This Is Me Maria

I believe that people give and take a form of energy from one another. I imagine that at this time I take a lot of energy from just about everyone.

I have found that my daughter is usually a giver. Hugging her and spending time with her is soothing and healing. She gives energy, sunshine, and love.

My son is a taker. He takes so much all the time. Sometimes it is physically painful to my skin to touch him because he needs so much.

I am sad that it is likely my own bad energy that is ruining him. I am even more sad that there is little that I can do about it right now. When I have a good enough day that I have something to give, I will hug him and I will feel him take everything he can. I will hold him as long as I can, as long as I feel he needs more.

I hope that one day I can feel like a real mom again. Right now I feel like a bystander in their world, watching everything unfold around me.

Caught myself singing several days ago.

Caught myself happily cleaning yesterday.

Caught myself skipping today.

This post about poop is dedicated to Lizzy.

Okay so I have heard a lot of wives say that they can do anything in front of their husbands, including the least flattering tasks. That is great that you are so comfortable together but I am here to say STOP!

Even though you CAN do something, doesn’t mean that you should. Ask your man, I am willing to bet that he’ll admit that he’d prefer to pretend that you don’t do those things.

Leave a little mystery ladies. Unless you are pooping glitter and flowers, just close the door. Just close it.

One of the things I have discovered that triggers my suicidal thoughts is fear. I recently uncovered the fact that I fear myself. I fear that my anger will get the best of me and I’ll do something I regret.

Also getting out of bed on the weekends isn’t easier yet. I can do a little here and there but with all of this medication switching I am not really making progress.

Still I am so lucky, I have like 10 phone numbers of friends on my crisis plan so far. As lonely as I feel, my crisis plan is proof that I am not alone.

As some of the darkest days of my life go by, it isn’t hard to imagine that I might question what I believe. I don’t know if anyone from the church I once attended, reads my blog (they might, a lot of them are on my Facebook). If they do, I gladly welcome a challenge to anything I write here. I would love for someone to convince me that the religion that I followed my entire life is still relevant to me to this day.

I believe in God, a God. Maybe not the God I once believed in but definitely someone. I have prayed to a God for as long as I can remember.

I won’t identify my church as I am sure they would not want to be associated with me at this point. Kind of sad isn’t it? In any case, here are the things that are holding me back from returning to the spiritual path I once walked.

1.) Not allowing women to speak in church (be ministers). Fear of sexual discrimination is what affects my reality more than any other of the “minority” groups I belong to. The amount of discomfort it causes me is greater than I can politely put into words right now. Furthermore the amount of chauvinism that I believe to be occurring throughout the church is unreal and it is the biggest reason I cannot sit peacefully in a room with these people. Perhaps my perception is skewed, I’d love for someone to open a different window for me to look through. I picture myself trying to sit through a service and at some point jumping up and screaming “THIS IS SO FUCKED UP!”. It is best I keep away until I can contain myself.

2.) Don’t believe in yourself. It sounds more negative than intended I am sure but it means not to rely on  your own interpretation of God’s law or the interpretation provided by other “men”. I can see why this is important. It is easy for the vulnerable and weak to be lead astray. However the best way to take power from people is to get them to believe that they cannot trust or believe in themselves. Perhaps it just means that you shouldn’t blindly decide what you believe but should seek council with God on each matter. Unfortunately I don’t believe this is what is being taught through out the church. While there are a few good men teaching guidelines in the church, there are others straying further in than is their right to do.

I could delve deeper into other things that I once believed and now question but don’t see much point in doing so as these two right here are deal breakers.

What is most difficult for me is that I feel as though the things I was brought up to believe that are ingrained in my soul, are interfering with me finding my way. The only way I know to recover is going back down the path I once walked. Unfortunately there are fibers in my being now screaming at me to question things such those listed above.

Depression is the loneliest place and I feel as though I am grasping at threads as I slowly drown in my own thoughts. Having some decided beliefs and a God that I am decided upon would make it a lot less lonely…

The other day I ordered an urn for my mom’s ashes. I did it because thinking about her makes me SO ANGRY but deep down, I know that her death ruined my life. I need to remember that if I die it could very well ruin my children’s lives. They are the innocent in all of this. They didn’t ask to be born but I brought them into this world. It is my job to take care of them and keep them safe. Can’t do that from the grave.

My friends thought I bought the urn for myself. That reminded me that they read these words and they worry about me. It kind of opened my eyes to the fact that I would be affecting other lives besides by own if I died.

I am trying to deal with my mom’s death so moments like right now when I want to throw myself out of a window and I curse the fact that the tallest building I have access to is only 4 stories tall - I will remember what my mom’s death did to my life and what my own death would do to my children’s lives.

Distraction is vital to staying alive. I think that is true for even non suicidal people. I guess that is what I’ll go and do now.

I thought that finding more of myself, meant that I would drift away from my husband. At first, that seemed to be the case. To my surprise I have found that the more I love myself, the more I remember how much I love Christopher.

Being with him, is being home. Being in his arms is like basking in the warmth of the sun. There is no place I feel safer than with him.

I suppose this makes me somewhat vulnerable, but then there is no one I trust more. It is wonderful to recall that I am madly and sickeningly in love with him still after all of these years. I am so lucky.

It is hard to figure out who you are when you are a smitten kitten for this enormous presence in your life that is your husband. Nonetheless, here are some things I have discovered about me.

I love to learn.

I love to read and write.

I love art.

I love the outdoors.

I love playing the piano.

It will likely take me awhile longer to figure out the rest. I’m working my way off of Celexa and back onto Lexapro.

I had a good weekend despite a day worth of dark thoughts. This is mostly because Chris was here for all but an hour or two of it. He put me to work to keep me busy. It was a nice distraction to be working along side him on the house all weekend. I am quite pleased with the results.

Of course this is the root of all my problems. I can’t be alone or complete when he is not here. This is what we talk about in therapy. I define myself as his wife. I feel as though I am part of him. I feel incomplete without him. I feel like a better person because I am married to him. Not better like good (quite the opposite actually) but better than you. And then when he is away or he is unhappy my reality comes crumbling down around me.

I am still trying to figure out why. I guess I’ll find out eventually. In the mean time, everything that happens while I am awake is a risk. I can’t stay in bed and hide out though. It seems that getting out bed and keeping busy is the best thing to do for now.

With all of the medication changes, my progress is slow but here are some things I am doing to try and not die. For some reason I keep trying not to die which is completely opposite of my thoughts.

I am also reading this book called A Secret Sadness in addition to How I Stayed Alive When My Brain was Trying to Kill Me.

I am trying to write a crisis plan.

I go to therapy every week (except next week since she’s on vaca)

I started buying aromatheraputic cleaning products. I get angry when I clean, the aromatherapy helps calm me down quite a bit.

I am trying not to be alone. I shouldn’t be left alone and I’ve told Chris that and he does his best not to leave me when alone when I am having dark thoughts.

Sometimes I am really discouraged, others I feel okay. I don’t know when this will end. Hopefully soon.