I’ve had so much taken from me in life, it’s a wonder I have anything left to give; but here I am, people wonder why I am the way I am some days… Monday, Jul 14 2008

What am I supposed to be all the time?  All sweetness and light, and sad and contrite?  Sorry, that’s not the way life works.  The only people who have the right to PHYSICALLY interfere in my life are my doctors, myself, and my PCA (personal care attendant.)  LET ME BE MYSELF, FOR FUCK’S SAKE.  I’m an adult, and a human being.  If less interference is run in my life, I’ll be a much happier person, definitely.

Wheelchair DOES NOT equal pathetic.  I have the right to talk to whomever I choose, whenever I choose, and in a medium (pardon the pun) both parties are comfortable with.  I’m sorry, but I’m in the driver’s seat on this one.  I’m the one with a mouth, and a good sense of judgement. 

A friend told me once, “Don’t let others steal your joy.”   and I’m going to add to that this:  I will cope however I need to at any given time.  The only person LICENSED to tell me otherwise is my therapist.  She is a trained professional who is damn good at what she does.

I have a few true friends on this journey, and by true I don’t mean those who solely take my side; these friends care enough to see past my mistakes and call me out in a respectful, and up front manner., and they know me, inside and out. 

I live with this giant pill (pardon the pun) of reality every single day.  I work, I attend school, and I am in active treatment.  I have enough reality in my face to last me several lifetimes, thanks, ever so.

Things will never be the same, because I have changed.  That’s the way life turns.  Very, very slowly I am regaining a much stronger sense of self, and I refuse to have that taken away.   By anyone.

I don’t enjoy being broken.  I don’t do this kind of stuff for attention.  I am who I am, and I have to live with myself and my actions every day.  There are days I hate myself, and think I’m a vile human being.  I don’t easily trust others, and I have a hard time forming new relationships; I constantly worry if I’m going to lose loved ones because I have emotional outbursts, or get angry or edgy.  So I push it all down, when I’m screaming inside for release.  If I don’t react, then no one will leave I think to myself.

People have made excuses not to be around me, or they edge away.  I stay by myself most of the time because of fear.  Fear I’ll do something “I shouldn’t” and people will judge me.

All I want is for someone to sit and listen, and help me through this, but when it comes down to it, the only real person who can help me, is me.  No one really understands unless they’ve been in my shoes or have a loved one that’s struggling with an illness or condition that can consume them whether they know it or not.

I’ve not been able to write because I’ve been silenced by the demons within.

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Quickie post while on break. Sunday, Jul 13 2008

I don’t have much to say these days, but probably later I have a post brewing, and it’s been on my mind for a while…I’m off for a drink and to collect myself, then back to work.

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The demon rises again Wednesday, Apr 2 2008

I have a lot of anger inside me.  Sometimes it consumes me like a dark flame; dancing, taunting, almost primal.  Begging me to give in.  I also have bitterness.  Mainly for what I’ve lost(that’s fading, thankfully), but lately, the bitterness exists because I see others achieve what I claw and fight for.  Healthy, loving, romantic relationships that include a home and children.  Each day that goes by drives the knife further into my heart.  I’m not getting any younger. Countless nights I fall into a deep, heavy, dreamless sleep, too tired to cry, and too numb to care.  The pain is soul deep, a dark shard is wedged there.  I can’t even begin to describe the hurt.

I know he’s out there.  But when he’ll show up, I have no the hell idea.

A relationship for me is NOT a cure all, nor is it a band-aid.  I just wish for someone to stand by me, and journey WITH me as I heal.  I’m working on happiness for and within myself, but having that someone special would be meaningful, and a gift I wouldn’t take for granted.

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Stress due to trauma Wednesday, Apr 2 2008

That’s the (broad) topic I’ve chosen for my term paper this term.  I love the psych class, my German class, and my time management class; I can’t STAND my math class.  But I resolve to pass, because I have to.

My anxiety and stress levels are slightly higher than normal but there’s a lot of numbing and disassociation; and that’s not good.  It’s mild enough I can work through it but strong enough it’s impairing my ability to concentrate.  I’ve not even had the inclination to write.  Why?  I’ll tell you, even though you may not care.

I haven’t been arsed to write simply because I don’t know how to put into words for a layman what exactly I’m going through without sounding like a whiny bitch or a self-serving prat;  I’m tired of hiding it.  I’m tired of pretending.  If you don’t like it, you know where the bloody “X” is on your browser. 

I have mental illness.  It hurts for me to say that but it’s raw, it’s the truth.  It hurts because of the stigma.  Add to this the fact that I have a physical disability as well (Cerebral Palsy) and you’ve got quite the mix.

I live the best way I know how.  I’ve dealt with this since I was 21.  I’m now 33, and only just last year swallowed what little pride I had left, and sought help.  I’m now on medicine, and in psychotherapy.  Thank Gods for both, or I’d be dead.  No, really.

I’ve returned to college to pursue a Bachelors’ in Science in Psychology; gods willing after that I’ll be going for a Masters Degree so that I’ll be able to actually counsel.

For right now though, a bit of review and relaxation, then try to sleep.

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Hi, old friend…it’s me again, about to untwist the cap a bit more Sunday, Mar 9 2008

But before I do so, I want to put the word out there about a blog I read daily.  It’s called Polar to Bipolar: The Secret Life of a Manic Depressive

It’s a definite read for many, many reasons.

I’m struggling with a lot, and I feel like I’m sinking.  The PTSD demon has reared its head along with very, very intense emotions.  I can’t write it all down.  Head swimming.

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What I’m about to say… Sunday, Feb 17 2008

Is painful even for me to write.  Because when I write it down it makes it real and it’s permanent. Because then I have to say it.  I was talking to my roommate and between the two of us talking we were able to figure out exactly when the switch flipped, when I became cold and numb.  I remember the exact moment it happened.  It happened when I was stabbed in the back, betrayed, and judged by someone I considered a sister.  I trusted this person with my life; they were my friend only “because she thought she had to be.” rather than be a genuine human being towards me.

I have PTSD, depression, and anxiety.  It is NOT a crutch or an excuse.  It’s a fact. If you’d like to see my psychological evaluation, I’d be more than happy to provide proof.   These issues are in my face and on my skin 24/7/365.  I am on medication to STABALIZE myself.  You wouldn’t criticize a diabetic for taking their insulin every day, would you?

It was said to me once, “try exercising more.  you should do x and x because it will help increase your mobility.”  When I respond honestly by saying, “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.” it’s because I CAN’T PHYSICALLY DO WHAT YOU’VE ASKED ME TO.  Spend a day with me, see how I live, and then make a judgement. Don’t you DARE call me lazy.  EVER.  I will knock you out if you say that.  Don’t step up unless you can’t handle it.  Everyday tasks are my therapy.  Brushing teeth, feeding, putting on makeup, getting a drink, going to the bathroom, etc.  EVERY SINGLE task I do for my well-being is my therapy.  Not to go too much into TMI here, but I can partially dress myself, it just takes too damn long to do it in the AM when I have places to go.

I am getting the help I need.  I see a psychologist twice a week and take 150 mg of Zoloft daily.  Part of me has died irrevocably because of this; I no longer trust.  My world is even crueler now, but that’s how life goes a lot of the time.   I am going back to school, I’m paying my bills, and I am living the best way I know how.  Treat me as a human being, and I’ll do the same.  Anything less, well, you do the math.

I don’t whine, or complain a lot.  I have it pretty decently compared to some.  Yes, I could be better off financially; that’s a long road ahead of me and I’m workin’ on it.

And others wonder why I don’t deal well with people these days….

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Let’s try this again shall we? Wednesday, Feb 13 2008

Computers are crazy.  That is all for now.  Me go boom.

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For some reason Wednesday, Feb 13 2008

The web ate my post…

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Untwisting the cap a little… Monday, Feb 11 2008

While writing this, I was listening to “To Capture One’s Own” by Dog the Bounty Hunter

I am a DTBH fan; I have been since I started watching the show back in late ‘06.  I used to come home from psychotherapy and later that same night I’d tune in and watch. It was therapy.  Honest, down to earth; it was exactly the additional boost I needed. 

I’ve typed sentences and backspaced them three or four times so far.  I feel so disconnected from the world I can’t even begin to articulate what I’m feeling.  It’s been so long since I’ve written for me.  Pure from the heart, not caring what others think.

To do that I need to loosen the cap a little.  Talk a little bit each day.  I hold things in because of many reasons.  It’s what I’m used to.  It’s what I know.  Hopefully I can change that a little at a time.

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For people with disabilities in the USA… Tuesday, Jul 10 2007

Got something in the post from my chair vendor directing me to http://www.complexrehab.org/

and I can see why.  Best advice I can give is to go there, check it out.

In other words, Medicare and Medicaid are at it again, but this time, there may be hope…

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