Sometimes taking it one day at a time is the hardest thing in the world to do. Yesterday was an oppurtunity for me to get back into the social scene a little bit. And I blew it- big time. This morning the tension in the air is thick and I feel completely responsible. But I'm not ready to talk about it with my husband yet, because Im feeling far too vulnerable and I think he's a little irritated with me.

Yesterday was the NFL Draft, which is a huge deal to Aaron and all of his friends. I had known weeks ahead of time that we'd be having people over, but yesterday morning the anxiety started getting to me. I tried to be a trooper- picking out a cute outfit, jumping into a hot shower, putting on makeup. All the normal things normal people do. But nothing would quell the anxiety in my mind. People began arriving at noon, and I was feeling incapable of being social. I quietly hung around until people started getting restless, and wanted to start betting on shuffleboard and getting their drink on.

I couldn't hang around and watch. I just couldn't. I was the only woman there, and felt out of place. My pain was increasing as my anxiety got worse, so I headed upstairs for quiet solitude.

I remained in bed until 8 am this morning. For hours I lay in my room, crying in despair, wondering why I felt so fucking freakish. Hearing the noise travel up through the vents drove me crazy because everyone was having a good time but me. In the evening, a few girls came, but by that time I was in no shape to see anyone. And the shame- I knew I was making things worse by isolating, but I felt powerless to stop it. Deciding to force sleep, I took my nightly sleeping pill, and hoped that I could at least get relief that way... And when I woke up at 4:30 this morning, I was so relieved to hear quiet.

And now come the ramifications of my pout fest. The tension in the air, the continued shame, and the worry that I will never get better.

PhD in Bullshit

The audacity!! Let me first say that in no way do I regret coming off of the painkillers. However, the doctor and his office who first set the ball in motion are just as difficult and rude as they were when I was threatened with detox.

I called in last week, to find out when the doctor wanted to evaluate me, since I was now off the meds. That was the plan- a new evaluation once free of opiates. Finally, today, (officially 3 weeks clean) Aaron called in to find out what the deal was, since my call hadn't been returned. Apparently, even though the doctor hasn't even seen me since he tried putting me into detox, he's decided that I don't need a new evaluation, but another cervical block. You mean to tell me that I went through hell, so that we could find out my baseline pain level and evaluate me, and now you're skipping that completely and shoving more needles in my spine???? That sounds completely fucking convoluted to me. This doctor kicks me out of his office 3 months ago telling me the only way I'll get off pain meds is by going to detox , and now suddenly he has decided on a treatment plan when he hasnt seen me since? That was NEVER what was discussed.

I didn't like this doctor before, and I sure as hell don't like him now. It is beyond frustrating. I want to kick some serious ass. And if I wasn't this measly 105 pound weakling, maybe I would:)

Balance

Think. Think. Think. I can't not write because my mind is overloaded, so I come to my place of solace to try and do some self examination.

I know where most of my behavior and thought processes come from. I know that I didn't learn to cope properly with my emotions from an early age, I didn't learn the proper social skills and the results have been at times, devastating... What kills me is that I am unable to sustain normal, healthy relationships with people. With the exception of my little sister, I keep virtually no contact with my family. It's too painful, is my reasoning. My friendships are usually intense and fleeting, often leaving me feeling like the most worthless person in the world, further feeding into the cycle. Losing friends is never easy, although with some it's been more painful than with others. But, people enter one's life for a reason, and that is the lesson I need to remember.


The word that keeps entering my mind is balance. I am on a quest for balance in my life. Another chapter ends as the next begins.

Revelations

I met up with my niece Gabbi and my girl, Tiff for a walk today. Gabrielle is the sweetest two year old I know, and for the hour were were at the park, it was like seeing things through the eyes of an innocent. Gabbi inspired me in a way I didn't expect. What a welcome surprise.

Spring is finally here. Outside, the air is filled with the scent of freshly cut grass. I've been walking every day, and each time I go, I marvel at the wonderful world around me. Simple things like children's voices and daffodils make me smile. Feeling the sunshine on my face warms my entire body and helps me feel strong.

After much contemplation and discussions with both my counselor and Aaron, I decided to go back on myspace. The decision to cancel my account was made on emotion, not reason. It's not that the page didn't represent me; it represented only what I was comfortable showing. But after days of no sleep and friendships gone awry, I really felt like I was done with people. I was hurting so much, and felt so alone. That was my reasoning. Completely counterproductive, mind you. Just another example of all or nothing thinking that I'm working so hard to reprogram. I want to be honest about who I am- the good and the bad.

Call it a family of crisis

My little sister wrote this hauntingly beautiful poem posted at the bottom. She is going through a very hard time, and has moved out of my mom's house into her dad's house- from a rigid environment to a lax one. But my sister needed to get out of there NOW, and I'm relieved that she did so. The emotional abuse my mother subjects her children to is a shame. I distance myself from her almost entirely, because we simply cannot get along. My 14 year old sister has more of a bond with my mom, but she still endures the same treatment I did...

These exact words were uttered to me countless times as a child, and now, I hear my sister repeating them to me, as told to her.

"You stupid kid!"
"Goddamn you"
" You're lazy, you're ungrateful, and you're disrespectful"
"Just run away from me like you always do. Go hide."
"I can't stand you, get out of my sight!"
"Can't you do anything right?"
"You are too weak"
"You selfish child."
"You're not depressed, you're just overreacting again."

I chose to retreat, and then, once I left for college, tried never to return. I came home for one summer after my freshman year of college, and when my mom caught me playing a silly game of strip poker with my best friends, she hit me, knocked me to the floor and called me a slut. I was given the silent treatment for days, and then was grounded until I returned to school. I was 19.

My sister has started to rebel, in a big way. Being 14 today isn't the same as it was when I was 14. I am afraid that because unlike me, she is acting out at a very young age. Her grades have dropped, she's quit her team sports, she's having problems keeping friends, and she's engaging in behavior that terrifies me.

I hate laying blame on anyone other than myself, I really do. I throw great pity parties, but I hate blaming other people. However, I am angry with my mother... I know she's had a hard life, and I know she didn't plan on having me during a very tumultuous time in her life. My sister was unplanned as well, and it's almost as if we've been made to feel guilty about just existing. My mother is the kind of woman you walk on eggshells around-all of the time. She can be very civil and put on a wonderful show, but she can also breed tension in a room full of people. She can be incredibly mean and cold. I, as well as the rest of her family, think she needs help. But she will never admit it, not ever.

I am scared for my sister... I don't want her turning out like me, and I got a late start. But once I started down the path of self destruction at 17, fresh out of high school, it took me years to realize that even though I never wanted to be like my mother, in many ways I exhibited her behavior. I didn't know any differently. At 28, I am climbing my way up from a pretty solid bottom. I've lost a lot, but I'm gaining a lot too, as I go through this whole process. But in all of that, I see my little sister, making bad choices, and hurting the same way I did, and still do. I'm powerless to stop it. I can support her, but I can't save her. And it tears me apart.





Awake in a dream



Sitting alone in the darkness,

Listening to the nothingness of the night,

I cry to shatter the silence,

It echoes off the walls and breaks the quiet,

Nothing I say will make it right.

I close my eyes and pray for sleep,

A prayer that is never answered,

I wish for the peace of dreams,

But apparently I am not heard.

No one answers,

Nothing changes,

And time drags on.

The hands on the clock hardly moving at all,

The nightstand says 3 in the morning,

And my world begins to fall.

I need the peace of an endless dream,

A nightmare far better than reality,

The sweet serenity of a scream,

And the sound of life around me.

I feel numb,

But not in a pleasant way,

Not tingly and warm and sweet,

But cold and hard and grey.

Like nothing I do will break,

This never ending chain,

Of false reassurances,

And promises to stop the pain.

I wish for the sun,

When the rain comes down,

But feel relief,

When the storm hangs around.

I open my eyes,

To look at the clock,

And realize the nightmare stopped.

The sun is shining,

In through my window now,

The morning has come,

Though I don’t know how.

Im awake in a dream.

Crazy Times

I had to inject a little humor, as innappropriate as it may be, into my life this morning. Cho Seung Hui has taken over the nation, and since NBC got a package from the 'pathological gunman' the networks are running the same disturbing clips over and over...

Everyone is saying something should have been done; there were signs that went ignored. I think it's very easy in a tragedy like this, after the fact, to point the finger. Every profiler and journalist has said that Cho was a timebomb, and no one did anything to stop him. From years before the shootings to the two hour time lapse where he apparently finished up his media package and sent it to NBC...

I agree that things could have been handled differently in this case. But it angers me to my core to see the same feed run over and over on every American news network. It's too late to stop him, and by magnifying Hui in the media, we are forgetting about the other victims. It's become a sick source of entertainment. By replaying the same clips, all the media is doing is giving more power to Hui and his so called 'sacrifice.' What about the other 32 people that were murdered? Why are we focusing more on the sick induvidual and not on those bright, talented students who lost their lives? Where is the balance?

I have so many mixed emotions about the worst mass shooting in U.S. history. It saddens and sickens me, yet I am following the coverage as I blast the journalists and networks for creating such a circus. What gets me the most is how they keep saying that kids out there seeing the newest footage of Hui may be inspired to commit their own heinous acts. Then WHY in the FUCK do you continue to show it, over and over again? What does this accomplish exactly?

Funny, Iraq is nearly forgotten as this country mourns... Yesterday 150 people were killed over there, and all I saw about it, was a blurb at the bottom of the screen! Jon Stewart devoted more time than that to the topic! Maybe I shouldn't be saying all of this, because really, I'm NOT an American, I'm simply an alien resident. Or maybe that's why I am in such an uproar about it all. But I can honestly say that I am fearful for this country's future... The mighty always fall.

Carnage

The mood in this country is somber this morning. Cho Seung-Hu, a 23 year old resident alien from Korea was identified as the gunman behind the massacre at Virginia Tech yesterday. I have been following the story, as I'm sure millions are, and I feel such an intense amount of sadness and can't imagine how difficult it must be. All of the major news networks have descended upon this small college town, and quite frankly, many of the journalists are going straight for the jugular. Aren't people angry, they want to know. There was a two hour time lapse between the first shootings and the rampage that followed. Why was nothing done?? Everyone from Nancy Grace (who I'd like to slap) to Paula Zahn to, of course, Bill O'Reilly were demanding answers instead of greiving and allowing due process. It sickens me. The American media is a joke. In fact, America is quickly becoming a joke.

I mourn today for those I don't know. I shake my head and wonder about the human condition.

I deleted my page on myspace yesterday... It felt very strange. I did it because I no longer felt like it represented me accurately. It was a place for me to show off and try to feel good about myself. To pretend that I was just this fun, happy girl looking for friends. And for a while, it worked. But now, all I see is a popularity contest on a major scale that I'm never going to win. If something makes me feel bad about myself, what's the point in engaging in it? Most of the 100 "friends" I had were people I didn't talk to. I was lucky enough to meet a select few who were in my life for a while, and for that I am grateful.

I still don't know what to do about this blog. Right now, it doesn't matter. All I really wanted to do was talk about the tragedy in VA, and I went off on a tangent. But 33 human lives were taken yesterday, and we have a war where troops are dying every day, as well as a fucked up politcal system. For the time being, I just want to engross myself in caring more about that.

Clearly Confused

I’ve been reading over my blog from the beginning. It’s pretty heavy stuff. I see cycles over and over; I’m constantly in a state of flux- either fighting for change or stuck in misery. All so black and white.

Sometimes I wonder if I should continue publishing this on the web. I mean, I need to write; it’s a huge outlet for me. But I’ve been so candid, and I wonder, is it too much? It’s not like I have lots of people reading this- it’s more for personal use than anything else. But I’m fighting intense feelings of guilt and shame, so when I read some of my emotional baggage, it just makes me shake my head.

I am my harshest critic. And while I can say that I’m thinking more clearly than ever, my emotions are still fragile. When my emotions are fragile, my logical thinking skills tend to suffer. Often, without me realizing it until after the flood of feelings has run it’s stormy course.
I guess I just don’t know if I want to document any more of the same bullshit. Maybe it’s time to stop writing about the demons every time they come up… Or maybe now more than ever, I need to keep doing this for myself. Again, I just don’t know.

Acceptance

There's a country song called "I'm Movin' On" that has always touched me. I was raised on country music and it holds a special place in my heart. Anyway, the song is all about change and getting through the challenges life holds. Lately, each time I listen to it, I start to cry, because it captures the tiny glimmer of hope that I get in my heart for a fleeting moment in time.

Honestly, I am barely holding on. But I know it. I'm doing what's right anyway. I never imagined the profound feelings I'd be going through during this whole ordeal. I take the prize for being an emotional rollercoaster type of girl, but the extreme despair that I've felt while withdrawing is unlike anything I've ever experienced. And I've been at some pretty low points in my life. My wounds are still open, and for the last few years, I began trying to self medicate the pain away. I think that's why I felt so much shame about being on so much medication and hearing the word addiction. Because I didn't want to be lumped into a category that I wasn't comfortable with. But I see with painful clarity now, that I needed those pills to function... That's a scary thought because I wasn't functioning. What a complete contradiction.

What makes this so hard on my mind is the pain... The physical pain that got heaped onto so much existing baggage became so hard to bear. And the uncertainty of not knowing when it will stop can be incredibly overwhelming. I may feel miraculously better without that crap in my body. I may have to learn to accept pain as a part of my life and use healthier methods to deal with it. I may have to get surgery. I may decide that I need medication again at some point.But I won't know my baseline until I've actually reached it. Signals are going crazy in my body and it's going to take some time for my chemistry to adjust.

I know one thing for certain. As hurt as my ego was on that fateful day at the doctor's office, he was right about one thing. I was overmedicated. It's one thing to need a pain pill or two for chronic pain, but it's another to be on so much medication that my body needs enormous amounts to feel 'normal.' When you feel pain through the amount of pills I was consuming, there is a problem.

So that's where I stand today. Still don't know what tomorrow holds, besides a much needed therapy session. But right now, I'm actually eating half a bagel and out of bed. Aaron and I have counseling in an hour, and I'm sure emotions will continue to flow. Just gotta accept that for now.

Clean.

The snow is falling softly on this Easter Morning. I am five days free from any painkillers, and hope that the worst is now over. The withdrawals you see in the movies?? They are real. I can now speak from experience. The pain has been steadily increasing, and I'm having to tough it out and treat with only heat packs and topical ointments. I don't sleep much, and the circles under my eyes magnify how beat down I look. I get angry at life. I want to scream at the god I don't believe in as I sip on an Ensure shake, wishing I could force real food into my body.

I don't know what happens from here. I take it a day at a time. And pat myself on the back for doing what some asshole doctor said couldn't be done.