Back to the Beginning

I was reading a book last night entitled Changes that Heal by Dr. Henry Cloud. He brought up the fact that we often emotionally or spiritually get stuck in a point in life and can't get past it unless you go back and heal from it before totally moving your life forward.  Like you missed some vital skill you need and you have to travel back in time to pick up that skill. I thought about this last night while laying in bed and I wondered about my past. I also remember my Psychiatrist asking me how long have you been depressed and I was surprised when the words "my whole life" popped out.
I have heard that I was an anxious preschooler.  I guess I cried and never wanted to go but settled down quickly when I went there.;I don't really remember having any anxiety or being shy as a child.  I do remember times where pressure was placed on me at a very young age. My older brother is very intelligent and started reading thru the encyclopedias at age 7. I had my first grade gym teacher tell me that I would be a basketball star for the high school some day. The deadly combination of brains and athletisem. I also grew up in a family where emotions were not emphasised, encouraged or even discussed how to handle. It was almost like the don't ask don't tell policy of the military. I had a best friend and great grandma die when I was in middle school and I never cried. I didn't feel like I was supposed to cry.  I was tough. I grew up in the country with two brothers. I liked being outside, much of a tomboy. I also grew up seeing my older brother cry when my dad yelled at him and I was way too stubborn to allow my Dad's yelling to get to me. I had a competitive, killer instinct with no emotion at a very young age.  I felt like toughness was rewarded. To show emotion was weak and nobody knew what to do with it anyway. My older brother was always jealou of me because he thought I got more attention as we grew up. I remember he asked me to fold towels and I said in a minute. He put his forearm in my throat and put me up against the wall. He asked if I was too good to do chores. Well when I was freshman he was a senior in a high school of 500 kids. You can imagine we ran into each other a lot. He never recognized me as his sister. He never said hi.  To make matters worse I was promoted to varsity volleyball, basketball and softball. So now we travelled in the same circles kind of. I was pulling straight A's because there weren't any other options. I was involved in youth group at church and a perfect child at least on the exterior.  I enjoyed playing basketball the most and dreamed of playing in the Olympics, even though my parents dimissed that as a crazy idea and that I would never be good enough. I practiced basketball everyday.  Shooting, Shooting, shooting.  Dribble, Dribble, Dribble. My freshman year the varisty basketball team made it to regional finals against our biggest rivals.  The gym was packed and very loud.  I wasn't a starter because of an early season knee strain.  I am not sure what point of the game but one of the seniors got hurt and the coach put me in. I went on to help the team win the game. It was insane, crazy, fun all at the same time. I had made quite an impact in the game and so I had a couple of newspaper interviews after the game.  For a freshman I was riding quite a wave of excitement. Region champs was a big deal and I was happy to get to sectionals. The next time we had practice there were a couple of seniors not too happy a freshman "out shone" them. It was very physical under the basket and received a lot of elbows and hard fouls that I shouldn't have.  Coach didn't say anything nor did any other players. I took my "beating" and moved on. The next game we lost. I don't even remember how I played. I played varisty softball without much trouble.  My brother graduated 3rd in his class and was heading off to college. I was lost really with no class and friends to call my own.  I didn't mesh with my own class because I spent most of the time with the upperclass and they didn't want to hang out with me because they where going to college.  I guess I felt I didn't need support because everywhere I turned I didn't get support. My parents were happy that their kids were smart and athletic and "famous" in our small town. I had a goal of being a Division I college basketball player and for that I didn't need anybody I just needed to work harder.

I thought it was the end--Part 2

Please read the first part of this post for this to make sense...
I am not sure if I had showered before I got in the car.  I had sweatpants, t-shirt and sweatshirt, no socks and a pair of tennis shoes on .   I thought to grab all of my current meds and throw them in my purse.   I took a xanax or was it ativan I  don't really remember.   I knew I had about 30 min to get to the hospital before the ativan kicked in and made me drowsy.   My legs where still shaking as I got in the car.   I drove right by Patrick's school where he was and probably for the first time didn't even  think about him.   At that point I just didn't care if I saw him again.  He was safe at school and my parents were taking good care of him.   I didn't
even say an "I Love You" as I drove by.   The rest of the trip I don't really remember.  The only thing I remember was the big office building on the corner, the CDW building,  off the exit from the interstate where I got off.  The car was on auto pilot it seemed.   I was going back to the same hospital that discharged me 4 days before.    I was taking a risk I knew because I would have been totally devastated at this point if they turned me away again.   I already didn't trust myself any longer.   I already was so hopeless that I didn't care if I saw my biological son and my husband again.   They were no longer a thought in my mind.   I had lost all desire to live.    I must have looked very distraught walking into the ER because I was processed very quickly into the triage nurses room.   I remember begging the nurse to not send me home again.   I grabbed his arm and begged please, please don't send me home you can't send me home.   He said it wasn't his decision but he would tell the Dr my wishes.   I was immediately taken to a room and asked to get into gown.(last time I went they didn't even ask me to change into a gown)  I was hoping this was progress.   My legs were just shaking like crazy as I lay on the gurney.  I begged the nurse again not to send me home.   I don't remember even giving a history.   I don't remember talking to the Dr.   I do remember that they drew some blood and started an IV.   I hadn't drank any fluids in at least a day maybe two, well at least not enough.    My husband showed up and then my mom.  I hadn't called anyone I guess my husband had.   I think he was scared, he knew how bad I was and he also knew he had to get me admitted.   I had gotten some IV ativan which had knocked down the panic some but I was still shaking.    My pastor came and prayed for me.   Then the social worker came in I was relieved it was not the same one who essentially told me to suck it up a few days ago and sent me home.   I grabbed her arm and once again pleaded with her not to send me home.   She asked me if I was suicidal and I answered by saying I don't want to live like this anymore.  She stepped out and the Dr. came into to tell me they were working on placement for me.   At that point I didn't care what that meant I just knew I was going to get help.   I started to relax a little.   I had pled my case and was successful.   There was a sliver of hope, like the first ray of sun thru the clouds in the morning.   I was given two options of places to go and made a choice.   The social worker made all the arrangements.   My clothes were bagged.  I said my goodbyes to my husband.  We were told that I would only be able to see him thirty minutes twice a week, phone calls were limited, and my blackberry would be taken from me.   He cried.    I began to shake again and asked for medication for the ambulance ride.   I was wrapped in a blanket and wheeled out on a stretcher into the back of an ambulance.  I remember looking at the lockers in the back of the ambulance bay.  I was placed into the ambulance facing toward the back.  The doors were closed and out we went.. The ride was about an hour or so.   The facility that I had choosen was further away but I felt overall better for me.   It was weird riding in the back of the ambulance backwards in the dark.   The two EMT/Paramedics were sitting in the front talking to each other.   It was cold, dark and lonely in the back.   I was trying to read the interstate signs out the back of the window of the ambulance to see were we where.   I was no longer shaking just numb and I had no idea where I was going or how this all worked or how long I was going to be there.  I just knew that I would be safe......
(It was very emotional to write this but therapeutic all at the same time.  Some of these details I haven't shared with anyone.   Finally nice to get them out of my head.)
More later.....I need a break.

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I thought it was the end....

 I thought it was the end.   I remember the day like it was yesterday. The feelings are flooding back as I type this.    The end began on a wednesday evening.   You see I hadn't slept more then 3-4 hours for the last three months leading up to that day.   I spent a lot of time crying laying on the bathroom floor.   I used to put Patrick to bed and I couldn't handle the three older boys.   The house was in chaos and I was trying to be the glue that held things together.     I often just let them run the house at night.   My husband was working odd hours so I was left to manage things.  My husband had switched jobs but was now going to bed early to get up at 2 in the morning.   That thursday early morning, Patrick was at his dad's, and as my husband got up for work I announced to him that I was going to the ER for help.   I had spoke to a Dr. friend of mine the night before and he had arranged for me to pick up an anti-depressant the next day when I came to work.   My husband was concerned and offered to go with me to the ER.   I was fried.   My brain was so wound up that I could not shut it down.   Sleep was not possible.   I had been running on empty for too long.   If only I could sleep I was convinced that was all I needed.   One night, well maybe two nights is all I needed.   I checked into the ER and was placed in a room.   I was given an anti-anxiety medication that made me drowsy for awhile.   Not sure that I slept.   The social worker finally came in at around 6 am I think.   Essentially she told me to suck it up.   My life was tough now but would get better.   I left with prescriptions for ambien, xanax, and told to pick up the Lexapro from my Dr.   My husband was with me the rest of the day and the next.   That was comforting.   The ambien did not seem to work for sleep but it produced some really weird hallucinations.   I was still struggling.   Patrick spent the day with me on saturday, my husband went to Ryan's wrestling meet.    I laid in bed the whole day.   I think I fed patrick but I wasn't sure.   I was drugged up on xanax.   Anxiety was still present.   Sunday was supposed to be a family party.  I sent everyone and decided to stay home.   I laid on the couch watching the Bears games between xanax induced stupors.   I was so anxious by the time everyone got home.  Patrick was staying at his grandparents.   I planned to call Psychiatrists on Monday to get more help.  Monday the older boys went to school.   Patrick was safe at his grandparents.   My husband was at work and I was all alone.   After being unsucessful to get any appointments I felt hopeless.  I tried to make myself eat and drink.   I took a small bite of PB sandwich and couldn't choke down any water.   The school called to say Ryan was in trouble again.   It was more then I could take.   I called my husband....  I am going to the ER.   I will make them help me  I said.   I remember taking a xanax and walking out the door and getting into the car.

I need to take a break and get back into reality for a moment.   This is very hard to relive.  More later......

The Peak and Valleys

I got my husband back sometime these past few days.   He went back to the wonderful thoughtful sweet man that he is.   He made my birthday ever so special.   Getting him back has also brought me back to happier times.   He still can't see the dishes stacked up on the counter, the cereal bowl on his nightstand, or his dirty clothes stacked up on the flour in the bedroom and bathroom but he does the little things to make me feel special everyday.   On my birthday he got me my favorite drink from Starbucks, a new basketball and the weather was so nice we went for a walk in a garden I had always wanted to go too.   The basketball was an amazing gift because we just picked up a basketball hoop from a friend who no longer needed it.   I used to play a lot of basketball as a kid and that passion has been rekindled since Patrick has gotten interested in basketball.   I could be out there shooting all hours of the night.   I am sure my neighbors will appreciate that.   There is a sense of peace just out there shooting bucket after bucket.   I can actually still shoot pretty well still.  Today was an interesting day.   Church was good.   We did some family grocery shopping after.   Then I started to get a little cracky.   I don't get much time to myself sometimes.   Patrick was tired and more difficult to deal with usually.    My husband sometimes gets annoyed by this easily and then fans the crankiness of Patrick, leaving me to handle both of them.   Patrick went to his Dad's for the afternoon.   Usually my husband then wants to do a million things together because we don't have Patrick.   I get frustrated because where exactly is my downtime.   I mentioned this to my husband and he asked what can I do to help which was awesome and helped eleviate my crankiness.  
I hope to get to the real purpose of this blog in the coming weeks.  I started to blog to tell my story to help other people but most importantly to get the story out of my head.  I no longer want the memories to rattle in my brain.   I also want  to tell my story to continue to help me heal and to help prevent back sliding.   You see the fireworks of anxiety have randomly started to explode in head.  I have slipped into a pretty significant depression for about 2 weeks which is just starting to lift.    I have questions still in my head and heart.   Who am I at my core and how do I move forward.   Do I need different medications??  The journey continues.

Sun and Spring make me Smile

Today was a good day.    I did manage to have all of my coworkers mad at me but the funny thing it was not really my fault in anyway.  Oh well moving on.   I ran today during lunch.   The minute I walked out the back door into the sun I lifted my arms to the heavens and soaked in the warm glow.   I also felt God raining down peace, patience and kindness.   I am not a sit all day kind of person and I typically don't have a strictly sitdown job.   But today was completely different.   We were slower then normal so I had some quality at  my desk, about 4 hours to be exact.  About 11:30 I began to get jittery and felt like a caged animal pacing around.   I wouldn't say it was anxiety but more energy.   After the last couple of weeks of feeling depressed I felt good, too good.   Then I stepped out the back door and started to run.   I ran toward the lake with not a cloud in the sky.   Water to the east as far as I could see.   There  was a couple of people with dogs and a few other runners, we greeted each other with enthusiatic smiles and waves like we were living in our own secret world.   There were kids and parents feeding the ducks and the crane was out to start the process of  putting boats in the marina, hopefully soon.  I ran the first mile too hard but I couldn't help it.   I had too much energy, the day was too nice, I felt happy, and I was coming out of hibernation.   The second half of the run was a little harder but I got back to the office just in time to fix the chaos and even get to assist in a surgery.  No more sitting for me.   I chalk up today in the win column.  My family thinks that I am solar powered and I am tending to agree with them.   Why is it for me that God seems so close on the good days but so far away on the bad?   Like I am afraid to bother Him.  As I sit here tonight in my newly painted house, which looks and feels amazing, I am at peace.  Praise God.  

One Step Forward

You could say this weekend for me was a roller cooster of emotions but overall the ride was worth it.   Saturday was very interesting.   I saw a side of my husband that was so strange I did not know who he was.   He was such a stranger.   His reactions aswere way over the top on the smallest of matters and he seemed to be almost manic and uncontrollable.   I eventually asked him to stop being a Jerk.   As the day progressed he went out to run errands for us and Patrick went to his dads.   Finally I had a few minutes alone to process my thoughts.    I went for a run to try to clean my head and get rid of my headache.   It was a relatively nice day out for March, just a little windy.   The run was good.   I pushed hard.   Trying to erase my feelings and emotions.   I have always used exercise to run away from dealing with emotions.   During the end of my first marriage I once exercised 360 days that year.   I became addicted to exercise as a means to manage my feelings.   Punish myself physically to dull the pain.    This run didn't help do that.   You see I have let my husband completely into my heart.   There is not a part of me that he doesn't have.   I worked so hard to make myself open and available emotionally to him.   After my run I recorded my data as I am returning to triathlons this season and like to keep track of my training.   My legs started to shake.  Hmmm,  I hadn't run that hard.  I began to wring my hands.   Ah I remember this feeling panic attack.   I text my husband to ask where he was and to say I needed him.   He said he was getting paint for the house and would be home soon.   I told him I was going to take a shower to calm down.   When he got home I was still in the shower crying harder then I have ever cried before.   I was curled up in the corner of the shower, and the water was cold.    I was bawling, shaking and praying.    That got his attention.    We talked.   I told him that I felt alone and abandoned and that I needed him and our relationship in a deeper emotional connection.   We also talked about his behavior that day and he admitted that he just felt wired and couldn't control himself.   We ended up going out on a date just the two of us because Patrick was still at his Dad's.   God had answered my prayer.   My heart was starting to heal.    Sunday was an amazing day.   I got some sleep finally.   Then we ended up painting the house. It feels like a home now.   My husband was very attentive to my emotional needs and we just enjoyed the day very peacefully painting together.   Finally making the house ours and no longer just mine in feeling.   I don't feel normal yet.   The depression is still there.   The anxiety is gone.    I really don't like anxiety.   I feel like my medications might no longer be working as well as they should.   I just want to be me again.    My sleep last night was broken again.   I am chalking it up to the time change.   I am thinking about restarting Melatonin to help me sleep.   Note sure what demons are bothering me at night.

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Brokenhearted

I hurt today in a way I have not really experienced.   Emotional pain is not something I have ever made myself deal with.  I was never equipped with the software to be emotional.   Growing up emotions were not really stressed.   Now I hurt in my heart.   It is broken in a million pieces by a man who I never thought would do this.   I don't really want to go home tonight.   We have texted today but nothing of importance, the usual.  Tears have wanted to fall multiple times today but I have choked them back.  I don't know how to face him or what to say.   I trusted him with my emotions.   I let him in to my heart in a way I never have anyone before and I can't close it.   God is challenging me to keep it open to him.   Just love him.   I have prayed so hard for this pain to go away.   I have prayed for his and my heart to be in harmony again.   I need him so much.   I can't do this without him.   The box of depression is back and the lid is closing.   I just want to be loved and supported.   I know he has pain too.   I know he has stress too.   How much can I ask him to give to me.   I don't want anything but to be paid attention too.   To act like I am something other then the maid, cook, mom and multiple other duties.   I am so sad but not beyond healing.   I want to curl up and sleep but I am too exhausted and I have Patrick to take care of and work and things around the house.   There is never a break.   I feel empty.   While biking today I was listening to Christian music and there was a reprieve in pain.   I had some peace.   I am putting my hope in God to ease my pain.   I am trusting in the One who can bring peace.   I am scared though.   I don't want to go back to the hospital not because it was bad but because I don't want to feel what you need to feel to get there.   My son needs me.   Please God ease the pain.

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I have been here before, totally crushed.

It started tonight as a typical Thursday.   Counseling and dinner out just the two of us.    We started counsel pretty soon after we got married.  You see approximately 75% of second marriages fail so we wanted to make sure we were doing everything we could to be in the 25% success rate.   Counseling started with the usual banter, how are things, how was your week etc.   We moved onto financial stressers because we seem to have a lot of those these days.   Ryan was sent to a group home for troubled teen boys and that isn't cheap.  We owe the IRS money and oh yeah the washer flooded the house this week too.  The fingers of depression have been grasping at me very strongly again.   I feel alone, unloved, and that i have to handle the house, child, bills and oh yeah I work full time in a stressful job.  He has been sleeping a lot lately his job is stressful too.   He gets up early and takes very long afternoon naps leaving me to fix dinner and play with Patrick all at the same time.   The biggest issue is that i feel like he has checked out.   I asked him today what we talked about yesterday and he said his work, radio show and politics.   I asked him how was my day yesterday and he got defensive and started defending himself in a loud voice.   Mary, our counselor, stepped in to diffuse the situation.   I was shocked by his reaction.   I wanted him to hug me and say babe it will be okay.  I am here for you and we will make it work.  he reacted the opposite.   I was shocked.   I choked back tears and that familiar pain in my head and stomach started.  My breath quickened and I wanted to run out of the room.  I felt unloveable, abandoned, sad, depressed.   I turned to him and I said I need you to be my husband to support me because I am falling.   I am afraid.   I don't understand why he has emotionally turned his back.  I need his support in my life.   I don't want to get so depressed I end up back in the hospital.  Is there something wrong with me?  I have been down this emotional abandoment the first marriage.   I have never feltso hurt in my life.   We left counseling and headed out to dinner.   We talked in the car.   He was mad and probably still is, he is sleeping.   i told him i needed a hug but that didn't happen.  Is it too much to ask for help.  i cried in the car and said again i needed him because depression was closing in ever closer and closer.   it is so hard because i know God brought us together.    i pray that God works in both our hearts to bring us back in harmony.  I think I am off to bed.   I no longer feel like crying I am numb.  i will kiss patrick goodnight and attempt to sleep.