I guess I'm getting better, mainly I feel like I'm drifting through life right now, not doing much.  I don't think I'm depressed, I just really don't care about anything.  I'm not emotionless, just unmotivated to the point that I can't even care enough to get motivated.  Yes, I *want* to be motivated to do things, but what am I doing to get that way?  I'm taking my new prescription Prestiq like I am supposed to, but I even cancelled my therapy appointment yesterday.  I slept most of the day, even had a chocolate shake because, like I said, I'm unmotivated, I suppose even to stay thin? and just could not find the energy to drag myself into therapy.  I could not imagine what I would have to talk about. 

The last time I went, the time seemed to stretch on forever!  My therapist had just gotten back from vacation the night before and was very tired, rightfully so, and it was early in the morning and she was trying to stifle yawns, not very successfully.  There would be moments of silence where I had nothing to say and I'm guessing she did not know what to say to me or ask me.  I kept thinking how boring it was and wondering when it be over!  She does always leave me with a bit of insight, however.  We were talking about my memory and she was saying she thought it was my medication and gave a great analogy about my psychiatrist, how she was the "master baker".  Like a cake, my psychiatrist was trying to find the perfect amount of ingredients and I am the "test cake", so to speak, and I have to keep going back often until she finds just the right ingredients, meaning amount of each medication I take, and maybe what I take as well.  So I guess my psychiatrist, when I go, is "tasting the cake" to see if she has it just right yet and if not, what she needs to change.  I just want some cake. : )

So yes, my days are probably pretty boring, but everything still overwhelms me pretty much.  Mark has been asking me what do I want for my birthday, where do I want to go, have I made reservations there or should he, etc. etc.  Even that was too much pressure.  I finally told him to just surprise me - pick out a restaurant and make a reservation and we would go there.  I am usually the one to plan everything about birthdays, even my own, at least when it comes to dinner.  This year?  The thought of making sure it is happy and pleasant and special is just too much.  Just whatever, you know?  Get on with it, someone just take care of it and let it happen, or we can just sit home on the couch and I'll order Chinese.  That sounds very low stress and no pressure to me.  Not that I don't want to go out - picking out an outfit or going to buy a new one is within my capabilities.  I *think*.  I broke my running watch, never sent it in for free repairs.  I dropped my laptop, still haven't sent it in for free repairs.  Do I just not have enough time?  OF COURSE I DO!  I'm home all day every day!

I wish there was someone who just "got me".  I wish I would meet someone who understood me, if I explained myself they had felt everything I have ever felt before, they would just completely understand and maybe even be able to explain things to me as I could to them as well.  But this is a very lonely disease.  People don't understand what I mean about "feeling too much".  They only know what they know, and I get that.  You don't know what you don't know, which is true for me as well, I don't know what I don't know or haven't felt.  I don't know everything either.  But I just wish I could find a kindred spirit.  I think that is asking too much though and feeling lonely, no matter how many friends or people I know, will always be a part of me. 

One Day At A Time!

I'm feeling better but I still feel unmotivated.  I try to get one thing done every day like go to the grocery store.  Do laundry.  Today it is fold the laundry.  There are things I do every day like make dinner, feed the dog, those types of things but outside of that, I just choose one thing and try to accomplish that.  I take a shower every day, fix my hair, put on make up.  One day I went to the salon and got my hair colored and cut.  That was what I got accomplished for that day.  It's really all I can handle.  Why am I so unmotivated?

However, I have started running again.  I've run 4 times now since the whole Lamictal debacle and have started a new training program - it's to run a 10k in under 60 minutes, at least that's what the training program promises it will accomplish at the end, but I don't think it will succeed in my being that fast.  I *am* hoping that it will increase my speed significantly however.  Just any increase will be wonderful!  We're going through a heat wave in Chicago right now which would be laughable in Texas - it's in the upper 80's, lower 90's every day but so, so humid.  In Texas?  A heat wave would be in the 100's.  I don't know why though, but it seems like this heat wave feels just as hot as the 100's in Texas.  Is it the humidity?  Is it because ALREADY I'm not used to it getting so hot?  I have no idea.

I actually did something with a friend I made in Chicago last weekend and had a lot of fun!  We took a Segway tour of architecture in a part of Chicago that was really beautiful, very historically significant homes, and I think the girl and I are a lot alike.  It is SO RARE for me to meet someone that I "click" with, or that I actually want to hang out with or that I want to talk to or share anything with, but I feel like I could tell her anything for some reason, not that I have.  No, I certainly have not. 

I found myself laughing at things she was saying because it would be things I would be thinking but not saying and she would just blurt them out without thinking about what she said first.  For example, one of the Segway tours this company gives has something to do with chocolate, and the tour guide told us he was surprised that we didn't do the chocolate tour because that is his most popular.  She asked him what it was all about and after he explained it, she said, "Wow, so you must eat a LOT of chocolate and then just ride around on a Segway?"  I admit, I was feeling pretty lazy riding around on a Segway that day even though we could never have walked that distance in that amount of time, and then to put chocolate on top of it?  Even so, it sounded really horrible, right?  So we all stood there while her comment sunk in, and the tour guide finally said, "So what are you trying to say?" in a joking but kind of serious way.  I just laughed while she tried to get herself out of it because I knew she was thinking what I was - about herself, not him.  I hadn't really considered his weight before that - he wasn't overweight but not in shape either, it was just funny.

I went to the therapist's office on Friday morning.  I thought I was supposed to be there at 9 but she didn't show up.  My memory has been *horrible*, it's totally possible that I did not remember the right day, maybe the right time, I have no idea.  So I waited until about 9:10 or 9:15 with the door locked, knowing she was on vacation and I thought she was coming back that day, then left her a message telling her I must have gotten the day wrong and I would be back the next Friday at the same time.  I don't have a card with the day or time on it, so how do I know?  She just kind of tells me in therapy when my next appointment is, and with my memory being so horrible right now, that is not a good thing.  Actually?  I have no idea!  Maybe she did give me something with it on it! 

My memory is getting better, but I'm still struggling.  I expect Mark to know what I am talking about sometimes.  Last night I found myself saying, "Did you get the thing out of the thing?" when we were in the closet.  I was just really frustrated that I couldn't come up with the words when I needed them so I just blurted out whatever to get it out.  Of course he looked at me strangely and said he had no idea what I was talking about so I had to stand there and think about words I was trying to say, and it was a struggle!  I was trying to say, and even now it is a struggle, "Did you get your laundry out of the closet that you put down the laundry chute?"  He puts his laundry in a chute in the closet upstairs and it goes downstairs to a closet next to the laundry room.  I refuse to do it because I'm not convinced something won't get stuck.

I did go to the grocery store yesterday and I didn't have to concentrate on where everything was just to get it all done.  I didn't forget the process of checking out like last time.  So...I'm improving. 

My mood is also so much better, I think mostly due to Pristiq.  I'm not sleeping all day anymore, yet...still so unmotivated.  Is that still because of the increase in Latuda and I feel sluggish, or just my mood?  I have no idea, no idea at all.

Today is day 8 on Pristiq, I guess my therapy appointment is Friday, no clue, have not heard from my therapist, and I go to my psychiatrist next Friday, I *think*, but she does send me an email reminder thank God! 

Dog Drama

I dropped my laptop onto the wood floor and am pretty sure I ruined the hard drive. I'm writing this from the Blogger app which doesn't let me see if I have any comments so if I do, I apologize!

I think the Pristiq is already working even though this is only the second day. No, I'm not all better, but I'm much happier and more positive, even more social. I must be more pleasant to other people because I've noticed their reactions towards me are different, more pleasant. It's so true, the way you are to others can often times be reflected back to you from them.

We have neighbors that live behind us whose dog just loves our dog, but our dog doesn't like theirs, he always tries to stay away from him. They often let him outside with no way to keep him restrained to their yard, and since neither of us have fences, if our dog is out, he just runs right over. They try to stop him, but he is very stubborn and doesn't listen to them. One time he stood on our deck beside me while I was holding my dog and growled at them when the husband was trying to call him down.

So I let Bailey out the other day and have been letting him out through the glass door in the sunroom so I can watch now.
I saw him pressed up against the glass door and by the time I walked over to let him in, the bulldog and his owner were right behind Bailey on my deck at the glass door. Bailey started growling at the bulldog when I opened the door because he's territorial and I was scared it was going to be a dog fight, but an unfair one between a 6 pound dog and a bulldog. I picked Bailey up and the owner said my name and was apologizing, so I opened the door wider to talk to him, and the bulldog walked right into my house! Not only that, but the guy was calling him, and like always, the dog ignored him. I told him he could come in and get his dog, how else was I going to get him out of my house without him coming in and physically removing him? But he didn't. It was like the time the bulldog was standing next to me on the deck, he didn't reach out and grab his collar or anything where if it were me, I would just pick Bailey up. Are they scared of him?

So I was trying to call the dog, without knowing his name, but I couldn't get close to him because I was holding Bailey who was upset and now I feel like he feels bullied, but I'm not quite sure how. He used to love being outside in Texas, now if I'm not out there with him he doesn't want to be outside and the first thing he does when he steps outside is look towards their house.

I want a backyard fence, this is ridiculous, but it can wait until next year. Soon enough it will be a cold tundra for half a year again, he will quickly do his business and run back in, but this has to stop. What is so hard about keeping your dog in your yard? Not once have I had to go over there and get my dog, not once has Bailey been in the backyard unrestrained. 

It's like fireworks and everything else here. Yes, there are leash laws and fireworks are illegal, but I guess because I live in this weird growing area where you drive by luxury subdivisions then corn fields, maybe people think laws don't apply. Oh, unless a builder comes into the neighborhood they don't think is reputable enough or anything about the appearance. But legality? Out the window.

New Item On The Menu: Pristiq

I saw my psychiatrist this afternoon - she has the most ADORABLE and sweetest "therapy dog".  I  just want to pet and love on her the whole time I am there!  As soon as I get there and bend down to pet her, she rolls over on her tummy for a belly rub!  How trusting is that?  I wish I could be so trusting - just roll over onto my most vulnerable side to anyone that tried to touch me!  Hmm, doesn't sound quite right coming from a human, though.  You get the idea.

She put me on an anti-depressant, Pristiq.  She started to put me on Effexor - she asked if I had been on it before because my last psychiatrist still hasn't sent his records.  He had seemed so anxious about my new psychiatrist having my records -  he actually wanted whoever it was to have them BEFORE I saw my new doctor for the first time.  I didn't like that at all, for them to read his analysis of me and get an opinion of who I was from his viewpoint before they even saw me.  And besides that, who knows if you will click with someone until you meet them?

So, I told her yes, I had been on Effexor before I was diagnosed with being bipolar and yes, it had worked for depression, but I was concerned about it because I remember as soon as it had been time to take my next dosage, if I didn't take it right away, and I mean RIGHT away, like within that 24 hour period, I would get very, very dizzy and start vomiting.  She said many drugs are like that, but she then suggested Pristiq, I guess because it didn't have as bad of a reaction as Effexor?  And OH YES DOES SHE KNOW that I refuse to take anything that will make me gain weight, she is very clear about that!!  I think I've been pretty clear in my blog where I now stand on that issue as well.  10+ years as a prisoner to weight gaining psychiatric medications is 10 years too long.

She asked why I stopped taking Effexor if it had worked.  I told her I was diagnosed as having bipolar disorder (when I was *my* kind of manic, where I am irritated and don't know why I can't get over something but don't really do anything about it, but it's just not a great feeling, you know?) and the new psychiatrist took me off of it and put me on bipolar medications.  Yet everything went wrong, I got way worse, way, way worse (swung in the direction of depression, so, so far in that direction) instead of better, and I ended up in the psych ward where I got a new psychiatrist and new medications anyway.

So we were talking about how I was feeling and I was telling her about my crying jags, and she asked that horrible question that you don't really know how to answer - I mean, you want to tell the truth but then you think, should I?  What can I tell?  What do I feel safe telling?  She asked, "Have you been having any suicidal thoughts?"  I just kind of looked around the room wondering what in the world I could tell her because I wanted to be honest and I want to get better and I want help from her, but at the same time, I know there are things I just can not say and I don't know where the line is, especially now that I am in a new state.  I'm trying to say - I don't want to say something and freak people out again and end up in the psych ward. Right now, that is not the right place for me.

So, I decided to tell her truth because, from what I understand, they only get very concerned if you have a plan - and maybe a time and place, not sure, but a plan would not be good.  But, if that were all true, if I did have a plan and time and a place, OH MY GOD, yes, get me to check into a freaking psych ward if you care anything about me!  And I don't have a plan, not really, obviously not now, but in my darkest moments this past week or two, even looking up lethal dosages of medications, I didn't have a plan.  I was looking for one, but I didn't have one.  Yes, it would be nice to go to sleep and never wake up, that was an "idea", but the actual plan to do that?  No, I have never had a plan on how to do that.

So I told her...that yes, I had had suicidal thoughts, but only that the idea was soothing to me, that it was there, but I never had any plans or had decided to do anything about it.  It felt nice in my darker moments to know I had an option, but I never intended to actually do anything.  She nodded her head, wrote it down, seemed to understand, and we moved on.  BUT.  She asked the question, and looked at me so seriously, so intently, it seemed like a year passed while she waited for the answer and I thought about how to answer it while she patiently waited, staring at me, analyzing me.  I could tell she wasn't just watching me for the answer, she was watching for my reaction to the question, how I was going to respond, I'm not quite sure exactly what she was looking for.  But she was looking at me in a way that I could tell it was more than just what I said that she was looking for.

So...I start Pristiq tomorrow morning, 50 mg after breakfast. 

Oh, the sleeping all the time!  I thought it was depression, and maybe some of it is, I don't know.  I told her about that.  She said the Latuda was increased and that can be sedating, and that could be why I am so tired all the time, why I've been sleeping so much.  I told her I just feel physically exhausted, like I can't even keep my eyes open I'm so tired, so maybe that isn't depression.  And now that she has said that, yes, it is kind of a drugged feeling, I had never considered that, but I don't WANT to feel drugged again.  UGH!  So I don't know how I feel about that.  Anyways, she suggested cutting back on some of the klonipin before bed to see if that helps.  I don't think it will but, okay, whatever.  I think that a lot when a doctor tells me to do something but do it anyway just, I don't know, because, and am surprised when it actually works so, sure, I'll try it. 

I go back in two weeks.  Hopefully I'm fixed by then!  Think I can be fixed in two weeks?  It can totally happen.

I Just Want To Sleep

Wow, I thought I was getting better, now here it is Tuesday and I'm a slobbering, crying mess again.  I just sit here, listening to nothing, the television isn't on, no music, all I hear is whatever sounds may or may not be coming from outside, stare at the walls, and think, think, think.  How strange is that?  But I don't want to do anything but that or sleep.  I really want to crawl back into bed and sleep, I feel physically and mentally exhausted, I want it all to go away, but I have a psychiatrist appointment this afternoon and I can't miss it.  I was just there a week ago but I guess she isn't sure if I understood how she had told me to change my medication and wanted to be sure I was now taking the right dosages.  Well, and she also added she wanted to "see how I was doing", but I don't know if that was true or not.  I think she just added that at the end to be nice, but really she thought I was out of my mind because I couldn't comprehend simple instructions on a piece of paper.

I should NOT have done something, but I wanted to find that email - the one from my aunt that said she had gotten a copy of the toxicology report from my dad's death and how to get it for ourselves.  She did say what they had determined the cause of death to be - something about the heart, but was waiting for the toxicology report.  There must have been an email after that, or maybe I am remembering the situation incorrectly, but I could have sworn she gave my sister and I the address to get it ourselves which was not in that email that I found, and I thought she said she had a copy of the report and it strangely omitted what the report said and instructed us to get a copy, which that email did not say, so maybe I deleted it for some strange reason.  I mean, it was a very, very strange email, why would it be so clear in my mind, yet I read it and it is SO not what I remember?  I must have deleted it or I can't find it.

But that wasn't the trigger.  I have over 1000 emails in a folder I put after he died marked "Dad", most of them I have not read.  He would forward things, sometimes multiple things, every day.  I was working long hours most of that time every day and simply did not have the time to read jokes, articles, that sort of thing every single day.  So I picked through a few of them, and one was a meme, the kind where you delete the person's info that sent it to you, and fill in with information about yourself.  It was the standard one, things you have done, things you haven't, nicknames you've had, where you were born, and the things he had never done made me sad.  But that's not what made me start crying.

The last questions said: Person who will send this back the fastest.  His reply?  No One.  Really?  No one?  So then...I was always so curious about what his email address was.  It was "bupkis2u".  I had no idea what "bupkis" was, didn't bother to find out at the time, so I looked it up for the first time.  Literally, in Yiddish it means "goat shit", but first generation Americans use the term to mean "little or no value".  Wow, really?  That's what he thought of himself?

So I could feel myself start to cry, there's really no purpose in it, you can't change anything in the past, yet...I mean how could I have known?  That's what is so hard, you can't change anything in the past. 

And yet, maybe he felt that way about himself, but he made me feel that way about myself as well when I was a child and he abandoned me and moved to another state because, he even said this to me as if it would make me feel better? that it hurt too much to see me playing outside after he and my mother got divorced and we all lived in a small rural Kansas town.  So basically, yes, he did move away just to get away from me.  I missed him so, so much, would cry when I was so little, yet he had done that on purpose which of course I hadn't known at the time, and thank goodness for that.  My heart was broken enough.

But reading that email was only a trigger, I must still be very depressed after all.  Sure, maybe I would have cried a bit normally, but I wouldn't just sit here and cry and cry and after awhile forget what I'm every crying about and just be unable to stop and not know why.

Triggers, they are everywhere, and I never know where they are going to come from.  I have been so careful these last few days, telling Mark not to talk about certain things or trying not to watch other things, trying to stay as positive as possible, listen to positive music, keep anything negative away.  Yet...the one possible chance sadness had to creep in, and it got me and I can't shake it.  I don't WANT to take klonipin for it, I am tired of putting it off for another time because it will just come back.  I wish it was like going through some sort of drug withdrawal.  It gets bad, and maybe worse, but you eventually you'll get through the storm.  Eventually it gets better.  And while yes, I know that is true, there is no facts or data to tell me WHEN.  No one can tell me that, there are no guarantees, there are no graphs, no soothing words anyone can say.

Yes, I realize I have a chemical imbalance, but like I told my therapist, how exactly does that change how I FEEL?  What I THINK?  Just knowing that...I mean, I guess that is supposed to give me hope, that my feelings aren't real, that the situation is not what I think it is, but yet...my feelings are real, what I believe right now is real. 

It is so confusing.  I just want to sleep. 

Progressing - Slow and Steady

After being SO incredibly depressed and now back on my medication, actually increasing the dosage of two of them, I'm feeling a whole lot better.  It's not been that long, I suppose two weeks since I ran out of Lamictal because I was an idiot.

I guess that proves I truly do have a chemical imbalance, not that I wasn't already sure of it.  And that I am taking the right medications.  There are countless times I have tried numerous medications and had to stop because they had horrible side effects or made me eat everything in the house (which is a horrible side effect as well) or sometimes just didn't work.  I know not everyone falls into a deep depression and comes out so quickly trying different medications - I certainly didn't when I was suicidal and ended up in the pysch ward in 2001.  I had tried several prior to checking myself in.

But the first night I was there, as much as I hated being there, as awful of a place as it was, there was some relief, a big weight off of my shoulders that I didn't have to go to work the next morning.  That was big source of stress for me at that time.  And I wonder...with my therapist and psychiatrist telling me I could not start school this quarter, how much of that has helped my progress mentally by lifting that stress off my shoulders as well?  Yes, I was devastated at first, that in itself caused me to break down for several days, but I had felt so incredibly overwhelmed about starting school on the 9th which would have been tomorrow, even before I ran out of Lamictal.  I had kept putting off enrolling until I had very little time before school started and the admissions counselor was really hassling me. 

Yes, I now I have to wait until September, but I can work on so many things to prepare for school now in these months every week with my therapist.  I can go online where I'm not constantly comparing myself against other people - I am SO COMPETITIVE!  I am constantly looking around to see how well I am doing compared to people around me, and in other courses, I was usually the best, got the highest grade, it was very important to me.  I have dropped classes because I simply wasn't getting the highest grade. 

In what I'm doing now, that is not the case, and it is really hard on me but I *thought* that was a good thing for me, to learn that I didn't have to be the best, to learn to be....mediocre, and that would be okay?  That could be enough?  Actually I don't know, I really don't know.  I haven't been in intensive therapy since my 20's and my therapist does not think it is good for me to be in a room where I am not concentrating completely on my work, but on how I am doing against other people.  I guess she wants to work on putting so much pressure on myself, being too hard on myself.  So weird, I still feel like I am way too lazy, I am not pushing hard enough, do not put nearly enough pressure on myself, do not do anything good enough, how can she not see that?  But even then, I guess I am comparing myself once again, to my husband.  Yes, I was already this way before I met him, but he is a constant 24-hour reminder that I simply "am not enough".  He pushes himself to the extreme, in everything he does.  If he decides to do something, he does it.  He doesn't let himself fail, no matter what.  It's actually quite amazing.  How can I ever live up to that?  Never call in sick when mentally, I *am* sick?  I watch him and feel so inferior, how does he do what he does, every day, all the time?  I'm not saying he's happy, not at all.  Just that...I rarely see him fail, he pushes himself to the limit in everything he does, he's never satisfied with mediocre or anything about his performance and pushes harder at everything he does, and that is very hard to live up to.  Even running, I can't possibly ever be as good of a runner as he is.  I mean it's just everything, he is so much more dedicated than I am!  How can I ever do that?  How could it not be possible to feel inferior all the time when you live with someone like that?  The *only* thing I can think of where I excel and it is his weakness is that he is an introvert where I am an extrovert.  I pick up the slack in that department, but that's not pushing yourself in anything.  That's just starting a conversation or being a social butterfly at a party.  It's something that comes natural or doesn't, but yes, in that area, to be good at it, he would have to push himself, where I just do it because it seems polite and am interested in people, usually, not always, and don't think about it.  But that's not anything special, not like working to achieve something.  It's just talking to people.  Wow, big deal, I'm sure that deserves a gold star.

So...three months of "working to get myself better".  I feel pretty good right now.  I've run twice, last time the whole 30 minutes that I've limited myself to, which normally is so slacking for me but after the hysterectomy, I am not trying to be so critical of my running abilities.  I just need to walk out the door and do it, just making myself do any running at this point is a success.  I've got to get back in any type of rhythm!

I go to my psychiatrist tomorrow after last week and not being able to read the piece of paper with the new dosages in front of her that she had written on a piece of paper.  I look at that piece of paper NOW, and wonder why in the world was that so confusing?  How did I not understand that?  No wonder she wanted to see me in a week to make sure I was taking the correct dosage and see how I was doing!  My therapist is on vacation this week and is coming back Thursday, had planned on spending Friday at home resting, yet she scheduled me for an appointment that morning.  I mean, what the what?  I am OKAY, yet, I know if I read back in my blog to a week ago when I was seeing them, no, I was NOT okay.  Combine that with people probably freaking out about my family's history of suicide, perhaps they are being overly cautious.  At least my new psychiatrist isn't trying to medicate me into a zombie like my other one did in the beginning, and for about ten years.  At least not yet. 

I'm Just a Little Unwell, But Doing Great!

I'm feeling SO much better!  And to think, just a few days ago I was looking up lethal dosages of all of my medications, crazy!  I'm not 100% - yesterday I couldn't find the word "reputation", I'm still having memory issues.  I'm still a bit emotional, but overall, a huge, huge improvement.

The changes I've made was getting back on Lamictal after running out, my psychiatrist increasing the dosage of Lamictal as well as Latuda, I've stopped drinking, not that I drank much anyway, but in no way do I want any form of depressant to enter my body, and today, for the first time in a few months, I ran!  It felt SO NICE to be outside, in the sunshine, running...for about the first 20 minutes.  I don't know what happened after that.  Maybe it may have been the heat or just not running for awhile but I felt a little dizzy and didn't want to push it so I walked the rest of the way.  Normally I would never, ever quit, I would push myself no matter what, but I'm through with putting so much pressure on myself!

I walked in the door and Mark came to meet me to ask how my run went, I told him I failed, and he started examining me for scratches or evidence that I had fallen.  I told him NO, I DID NOT FALL!  I AM FINE! 

We went to the Goo Goo Dolls/Matchbox Twenty concert at the Ravinia for the 4th of July and had a great time!  The funny thing is - when you're not drinking, you realize how stupid people look, act, and sound all around you that are, which is practically everyone.  Something great is that while they might not feel so good today, I feel great and probably had just as good of a time as they did. 

The night was not uneventful however!  I scored a signed copy of the setlist of the Goo Goo Dolls for that night, I ended up in first aid because I was bleeding at one point, and I summoned security to make a man get his child off his shoulders so the people next to me could see the band on stage.  I mean seriously, you are going to sit in the first 10 rows, you're over 6 feet tall, and put your child on your shoulders so no one behind you can see?  I personally think it's even rude to wear a hat when you sit that close.  And people in the Midwest, I'm telling you, they are too nice sometimes.  I asked the girl next to me "Can you even see?" and she no, but that's alright, and she seemed to be one of Matchbox Twenty's biggest fans!  On top of that, the seats were awesome and not cheap!!  I had absolutely *zero* problem going up to security and asking him to tell that man to remove his child from his shoulders.  On my way back to my seat, people were high-fiving me.  It wasn't that difficult, people!

Mark has *never* liked concerts, but he totally freaked at this one.  I think he may FINALLY get why people go to concerts, he just simply had never been to see someone who was one of his favorite artists, which Rob Thomas definitely is.  He knows every word to all of his songs, I mean EVERY WORD.  He knew most of the Goo Goo Dolls songs too, which surprised me as well.  He was singing really loud, too, I was thinking "Oh my gosh!".  At one point, he was taking pictures of Rob Thomas, and some people are strange, they go to concerts, get these great seats close to the stage, and then just sit through the whole concert like a bump on a log.  Why not save money, stay at home and just listen to the CD's?  So he's taking the pictures, he's hot and sweaty and it's dripping, the guy in front of him is balding, and I see some sweat from Mark's arm as he's holding up his phone to take a picture drip onto this guy's bald head.  It was funny and horrifying at the same time.  Mostly horrifying.  I saw the guy put his hand up to wipe it away from the top of his head once, but I wasn't going to tell Mark to stop having fun.  Why would I ruin his experience?  This was his FAVORITE BAND.  And...the first time I have EVER seen him enjoy a concert.

Matchbox Twenty has a song called Unwell.  The fans seemed to know every word by heart.  It's so strange to me, I wanted to ask people, "You can relate to this song?  How?"  I know Mark loves it as well.  I think most people feel a little crazy and not normal sometimes.  It's *so* how I feel right now.  If I could try to explain to someone how I am feeling right now, this is it exactly.


Just Trying to Keep Up!

I saw my therapist yesterday, and as I was talking, she asked me to open up my notepad on my iphone and write down things to tell my psychiatrist when I saw her as we were talking.  They work closely together, respect each other's work a lot, and when I tell them one of them has told me one thing and to tell them that, they take it seriously, or they ask me what did the other say when I tell them something.  Not about EVERYTHING, just once in awhile.

So, because I have a horrible memory right now and have absolutely NO CLUE what she told me to write down in therapy, I will open up notepad and see what she told me to write down to tell my psychiatrist as we were talking.

Forgetfulness and inability to concentrate since missing Lamictal dosages
Should I be taking Klonipin when I get very depressed or something else?  (Because right now, I have absolutely nothing prescribed for that, I am using medication I have stockpiled over the years.  Klonipin is only prescribed for sleep.)
Tell her the incident where I almost got hit by a truck
The feeling of being hopeless

And that's it - just four things that she thought my psychiatrist needed to know when I saw her.  She helped a lot.  I guess the argument Mark and I had is a very common one she sees in marriage counseling.  The way I feel and what I said to him when he kissed me in bed is also very common, as is his reaction, when I thought I complimented him and he thought I insulted him. That does make me feel SO much better.

She did push for a bit of family history today, but not much.  As I was telling her about how my dad died, I remembered the really weird thing my aunt did after his death.  Maybe I blogged about how weird it was at the time, or maybe I didn't consider it weird at all.  People "assumed" he had died quickly of a "blood clot" in his head.  They found a blood thinner prescription at his apartment, and since he checked himself out of the hospital against doctor's orders, I guess they thought they knew what he had died from, I really have no idea.  I was kind of left puzzled and with a big question mark as to why he died.  When people ask me, I just say obesity related illnesses, because he did have a lot of them.

But, and I only get my information from my family who can be way too much of polly-annas, they were running a toxicology report just to be sure, maybe it was routine, I don't know.  My dad had just died.  They told me he had died because of a certain thing and it may have been the same day he checked himself out of the hospital, so I just went with that.

At least several weeks went by, and I got this weird email from my aunt.  She just sent it to my sister and I which us very weird as well. That may be the only email ever that anyone has sent to just my sister and  myself.  We barely know each other.  It said that she had gotten a copy of the toxicology report, gave an address to request one in writing and said how much it cost.  That was it.  Hello?  She HAD a copy of the toxicology report already, in her possession, why not just TELL us what it said?  And...since she had a copy of it, if it was normal, why did she think we needed to write and pay for a copy of it ourselves?  What was the purpose?

Perhaps I'm jumping to conclusions.  Maybe she wanted our minds eased that he didn't commit suicide, but couldn't she had said that it came back normal?  Why all the secrecy?  And you know, if he committed suicide, do I really want to know that?  He made an attempt just a few years before that - a true attempt, not a cry for help, so when I heard he had died, that was the first thing that crossed my mind. 

Why did she send that email the way she did?  Maybe she was still very upset about her brother passing away and didn't know what the hell she was doing, who ever really knows why people do what they do.

But...if anyone has as much suicide in their family as I do, I've never heard about it.  Certainly suicide is a taboo subject.  It's not exactly a topic you bring up at parties, and most certainly not something my family wants to talk about or have brought up.  I'm sure it's a very painful subject for them, and probably each of the survivors struggle with their own mental health.  I know I certainly do.  It would just be nice if we could TALK about it, but even if so, I'm not close enough to them to even have that conversation.  Like my therapist said today, "So really it's just you and Mark" when she was asking about how close we are to our families.

I deactivated my facebook page today.  I feel a big burden has been lifted off of my shoulders.  I don't feel obligated to "like" pictures of my cousin's baby, one of the millions she posts every day bragging about how cute he is when really?  I don't think he is a cute baby at all yet I don't want to hurt her feelings.  So many things on facebook I felt were social obligations.  Or social snubs.  I know so many people say, as I would defend myself as well, "it is the only way I stay in contact with my family and many of my friends".  If that is true, they have no other way to contact you, are they really close family members and friends?  I decided I no longer wanted to share my life with people that weren't really in it.  It's nice to see things and just ENJOY them, to be going to an event tomorrow and wonder if I should post it on facebook, that I'm there, who I'm with.  Why do I want people I don't even care about to know what I'm doing, who I'm with, even what I look like?  If they are not in my life, they no longer get to see those things, have morbid curiosity about how I turned out, if I gained weight, what I now look like, where I live, what kind of life I have.  That even includes my family members who only knew how to contact me through facebook, that includes Mark's family members who only saw updated pictures of us when I posted them.  You might say I'm isolating myself out of depression but I've been thinking of deactivating my facebook account for a *long* time.  I don't see how it enhances my life in any way. Now that a full day has passed, I haven't regretted it for even a second.  I feel liberated.

BUT!  The girl that basically broke up with me on facebook?  I replied to her message and then deactivated my account this morning.  Apparently she replied and then thought I blocked her because it wouldn't send the message to me.  She is someone who does know how to contact me outside of facebook.  She sent a text saying she was sorry if she offended me because I had blocked her and I responded no, I deactivated my account, so now she wants to be friends. Glad to know she really did like me for me, but...I don't know.  We texted quite a bit, never really found out why she broke up with her boyfriend except he betrayed her and this is a guy I have to see in social settings so I really don't want to know if it is that bad, I don't want to hate him.  Mark is going to be friends with him no matter what happened, so it's probably best if I don't know what a piece of crap he really is, and I'm pretty sure that's the case when it comes to relationships.  He is still in love with his ex-wife.  I really don't know where to go with this friendship.  And is this the best time for me to be figuring out something like this?  I don't think so!  I'm not exactly in the best frame of mind right now!

Tomorrow (well, I guess today, it's 4 in the morning) is the Goo Goo Dolls and Matchbox Twenty concert!  So excited!  I love Matchbox Twenty, but the Goo Goo Dolls sing one of my all-time favorite songs, from the movie City of Angels, although I didn't know it was from that movie until I saw it.  Such an awesome, awesome song.  WAY excited, although Mark isn't.  Matchbox Twenty is his favorite bands, but he claims he will feel the same way hearing the songs live from Rob Thomas singing them as he does when listening to them on a CD.  Really?  I wonder about that.  He has never seen a favorite artist of his in concert before.  I'm curious to see his reaction, whether he hates crowds or not.

So here is one of my all-time favorite songs, and I will go absolutely berserk when they play it!  I guess I'm more of a "poetic" type of person, I like a song more because of the words than the melody, although both are important.  Sometimes a song will come along and I'll think wow, someone else feels that way?


I woke up this morning and yes, I feel sad, but more importantly, I don't feel a connection with anyone, just really, really alone with my thoughts and feelings. Sometimes a person here and there I will share a bit of myself, but I always feel like I've revealed too much and if anything goes wrong in that friendship, it is because I am such a weirdo. I think people can relate to me and might say something hoping they can, wanting validation for how I feel, when really, maybe they just don't get it at all. Perhaps I'm too intense, too emotional, too depressed. So...it really is better not to let people see that side of me, the dark side, the real me. People don't want to see that. They want me when I'm happy, laughing, joking, making compliments, being fun. But all I want is a true friend, someone that I don't always have to keep on a mask for. I don't think those people exist and why would they? Who wants a Debbie Downer? But I'm not like that all of the time, just sometimes! I really am an extrovert and love to have fun and get excited easily, but when I don't feel that way, I wish there were people who still cared about me and wanted to be around me anyway.

Sure, I have a therapist to talk to now. But she is PAID to listen to me, and why shouldn't she be? She's the only one that can at least pretend not to be repulsed by me. So sad that you have to pay someone to pretend that they care.

I am very, very alone. Maybe not alone in the physical sense ALL of the time, but definitely emotionally. I'm a prisoner trapped in my dark, lonely thoughts, and maybe now I am actually feeling sorry for myself but that is how I feel. 

Alone.  Completely and totally alone.

Just, wow, I don't know.

I got an email from the one person in Chicago I thought I had made friends with - I was actually friends with her outside of my husband, even though it was my husband's friend's girlfriend.  I knew there was a very good chance they would breakup, but why couldn't we be friends?  Why would that matter?

So I haven't kept in touch with her since I cancelled on her the night after the Ravinia when I was in bed from my massive hangover - the four of us were going to do something together and I couldn't.  I was so sick.  It took me two days to get over that!  Then the Lamictal withdrawals, I've been a complete mess lately.

I checked my emails just a bit ago, and she said she was "sure I knew they had broken up" and felt it would be awkward between us now.  No, I had no clue.  If my husband knew, he didn't tell me, he has been majorly stressed out at work, and if his friend had called him, I doubt he had the time to return his call.

So she was my friend exactly WHY now?  Because she wanted her boyfriend's friends to like her?  She didn't actually like me for me?  Yes, she threw in a lot of complimentary things in there, but she completely shut the door.  I did reply and say I didn't think it would be awkward, but now that she already did that, I feel hurt.  It's the same old thing - everyone goes away in the end.  No one ever sticks around in my life, that's just how things work.  Most of the time I'm never quite sure exactly what I did.  I'm left saying "please, no, stay..." and it never works.  Just another big rejection.  Yes, I know that sounds terribly dramatic and such an over-reaction, I shared basically nothing with her, but rejection is rejection.

Mark and I had a terrible fight tonight.  What I meant as a compliment he took as an insult and I'm still confused about the whole thing.  I tried to explain myself and shared something very vulnerable about myself, and he just had the same uncaring look on his face, still upset with me, even though it made me start crying and crying by revealing how I felt which was so very hard to do.  To him, it was nothing, I guess it was silly, but to me?  I told him that the reason I did or didn't do certain things is because he was maybe the only person I have let in who has the power to really hurt me, and why would I expect him to like things about me that I can't accept about myself, and risk rejection, abandonment, something he knows is one of my biggest fears?  To *me* it was stupid what he was saying, that I was always moving his hand from certain parts of my body, I seemed uncomfortable, but yes, I am very uncomfortable with my body, he hasn't always been complimentary towards me and I brought up those times, and as guys always do, he accused me of holding things against him forever.  I'm sorry, but if you say ANYTHING negative about a woman's body, at any time, in any place, in any situation, they will remember everything about it forever.  Any woman reading this will SO know what I mean.    So being intimate with that person?  Is that going to go through my head?  Yes, of course, no matter how much he compliments me, no matter what he says or does, those two or three times ever he has said anything, THOSE are what I remember.  He said we have never taken a shower without me wearing my bikini.  NO, one time I took off my bikini top in the shower and it didn't seem like it pleased him much at all, he totally didn't care, I didn't see that it did anything for him at all.  And for him to say "NEVER"?  I've only done it ONCE and it was so insignificant, because I only did it once, he doesn't even remember THAT?  How am I supposed to feel? 

I am starting to think that *he* is the one with the problem, maybe it's not just me.  Sex does not equal love.  He kissed me in bed the other night then rolled over, and all I said was "it's nice to be kissed without you wanting sex", telling him what I wanted, what I liked, I appreciated getting MORE affection, and that was an INSULT?  Somehow I was saying that I did NOT want to have sex?  But yet, yes, he basically said he doesn't feel loved without sex, that is what love is to him.  We have sex on a regular basis, he is not deprived.  I said do you realize that is what girls who have been sexually abused at a young age say and feel?  They don't feel love unless they have sex?  They crave sex to feel loved?  Maybe I've got it all wrong, maybe it's a guy thing.  I reminded him of our frequency, he didn't care.  Of the things I had changed and all I had done that he asked, he didn't care. 

I told him marriage counseling was STUPID, all of those changes I made were for NOTHING, absolutely nothing.  It meant nothing to him, he agreed, marriage counseling was stupid and felt he had changed as well and things were the same. I just lost it.

You know, and really?  He knows what I'm going through right now.  He called me when I was at the grocery store today.  I was halfway freaking out because I couldn't believe how much attention I was having to pay just to buy groceries.  He even said he was going to let me go because I sounded very preoccupied and I apologized, I just had to really focus on buying groceries.  It wasn't just zoom down the aisles like I normally do without much thought and with a million other things on my mind.  I'll talk to him on the phone or do things on my phone while I shop, read labels, check prices, all kinds of things.  Today?  I had to concentrate on where things WERE, what I needed, what aisle they would be in even though I've been to this store so many times.  I was worried that people could see it written all over my face, that I was just totally clueless.  I even forgot the regular process when I was checking out at the same store I've been going to for years and years - even back in Texas.  I could swear people were looking at me like I was weird.

So, yes, we had a horrible argument, worst time ever to have an argument so bad, and I couldn't stop crying, and I started thinking...you know?  What do I even have in my life?  What is here for me?  Why do I keep living, what is there to live for?  Sometimes, in those dark moments, the thought of ending your life is soothing.  I can't say I was in *so much pain* that I wanted it to go away.  No, I know what that feels like.  I just didn't see a hope for any future, that things would ever get better between Mark and I and right now, he is all I have.  We would still be having the same argument for the next 100 years, I will still keep getting sick, who knows if and when I'll ever finish school, I'm sitting at home doing nothing, and no, I wasn't feeling sorry for myself, I just didn't want to exist.  I didn't want to go on another day.  I started looking up the lethal dosages of all the medications I have, which by the way, I found out the term is LD, but those that I can take enough of, there are too many possibilities of surviving with some sort of brain damage.  I don't have anything where I could just fall asleep and that would be it.  I don't want to survive and have some sort of brain damage for the rest of my life.  I also wasn't wanting it to be a cry for help - I was not wanting to make a cry for help, and even if I did, I didn't feel that anyone would care.  Mark sure didn't seem to.  I even told him later what I had been doing because he had been accusing me being on the internet and airing his dirty laundry in my blog and yes, sure enough, he didn't care.  He said he felt that way too sometimes.  Really?  He's looked up the lethal dosage of medications to take for the next day?  He seemed surprised that 50 Tylenol was a sure way so no, I don't think so.  Of course I prefaced it with "I wasn't really going to, I was just curious, sometimes it just makes me feel better to know there's a way out..." because like I said, I wasn't making a cry for help.  Someone who is actually feeling that way isn't really going to tell you.  It's a taboo subject, we all know what will happen if we say we feel a certain way, we have thought to make plans to do something and was serious.  I don't want to go to the pysch ward nor do I feel I need to right now. 

I'm OKAY, I'm not going to do anything, and it's true, the thought that I COULD is soothing in dark moments like that, to the point where I am looking up LD of my medications just in case, to prepare, but...I'm not sure how serious I really am.  At that moment, I was sort of serious, my idea was to do it tomorrow when no one was home and I didn't care if Mark found me, he was so upset and unhappy with me anyway, why would he care?  But my dog.  HE would care.  HE would miss me.  HE would be unhappy, and he would be here when it happened and I don't want that.  A sad little dog, wondering what is wrong with me.  He gets very upset when something is wrong with me.  And I relate to that little dog more than anyone.  He doesn't trust hardly anyone, either.

Wow, this is such a negative post.  Yuck.  Am I really in that dark of a place?  No, I don't think so.  I'm okay, or am I?  What is okay?  What is normal?  Are you depressed when you are crying all the time, which I'm not, or is it normal to get so upset that ending your life is soothing? 

I have no idea.  I really don't care.

Music That Never Goes Away and What Do I Not Know!!!

I've had this problem in my head (well, obviously, but not what you're thinking) ever since I can remember, and I assumed everyone had it as well.  But lately, it's gotten pretty bad, and I asked my husband if he experienced what I did, and he said no.

All of the time, I mean all of the time, music is going on in my head.  But it's not always a song I just heard, it can be COMPLETELY random, and I always wake up with a VERY random song in my head.  I remember a long time ago, I would try to dictate what song I woke up to and tried to fall asleep listening to that song.  It never worked.  For some reason, that is not how my brain works.

Yes, I know the whole phenomenon about "catchy tunes".  You hear something and then can't get it out of your head.  Sure, I get that too, but that is not what I am talking about. 

For instance, this morning I woke up, and Kenny Rogers "She Believes In Me" was going through my head.  I mean seriously?  Do you know how long it has been since I've heard that song? 

It just seems like it is particularly bad lately, and maybe it is BECAUSE of what songs my brain is choosing that it seems like it is bad, or maybe the volume in my brain has been turned up.  I realized it *might* be a problem when I woke up to the song "Without You" (Badfinger/Harry Nillson/Mariah Carey/tons of people have covered it), which is NOT GOOD!  I was already so depressed, that song is SO FREAKING depressing, I had not heard it in YEARS, and I know what happened to the writers of the song.  They committed suicide!!  That was totally the absolute wrong song that needed to be stuck in my head that day.  That may have been the day I started crying, couldn't stop and took klonipin and it knocked me out for hours for some bizarre reason.

That was also during a period where, for maybe 3 or 4 mornings in a row, I woke up to break-up songs, and I'm not going through a break up?  That is the only one I remember right now, I just remember thinking "ANOTHER break up song this morning?  What is going ON?" 

So...I thought everyone went through this.  I've even said to Mark before "I've got such and such going through my head", and he would reply with what he had going through his head.  So the other day, I was curious.  I asked him if he ALWAYS had music in his head.  He said no.  I said if you don't always have music in your head, what is going through your head?  He said numbers.  Huh?  I don't get that.  How can numbers be constantly going through your head?  I said "So it's like you constantly hear the number 7 over and over?" Of course I knew that was ridiculous, but I had absolutely no concept of what he was talking about.  He explained it to me, but I still don't get it.  How can numbers go through your head?  Constantly counting things?  I don't understand.  Maybe he doesn't understand me, either.

Of course there is always that internal dialogue on top of the music, but the music is always there, and I have absolutely NO CHOICE in what is playing unless, like everyone else, I happen to stumble on a "catchy tune" that won't go away.  Yes, that it annoying, but so is every other song, like Kenny Rogers right now.

I still don't know if I'm well or not, but Mark seemed to think I made progress yesterday because I folded at least the laundry I did over the weekend (but not what I did last week yet, we are still picking through that if we need something from there), and I took Bailey to the groomer.  HOWEVER:

Mark got his little *toy* and the low tire pressure light won't go off.  I followed him to the dealer and he pulled into the parking lot and as I was making my turn into the dealer, I TOTALLY did not see a semi truck coming my way and he almost slammed into me.  He laid on his horn for a really long time which was probably out of fright because I was already into the turn, there was no way to go back and I was right in front of him.  It was up to him - either he could stop, or he couldn't.  All I could see was a big grill on my side and that the outline of the grill was yellow - I just knew it was something monstrous. 

Well of course Mark saw the whole thing.  He said "Did you not SEE that truck before you turned?  Do you know how lucky you are that he was able to stop that quickly?"  What am I supposed to say?  I am a very, very defensive driver.  The dumbest thing I have ever done is text and drive in stop and go traffic and had a fender bender on the freeway.  Other than that, it's been people hitting me - and just fender benders and I've always been very gracious, hoping others would be the same to me.  However, yes, I do know there are very dishonest people out there and once someone tried to take advantage of me, or should I say my insurance company.  Had that not happened, it would never have occurred to me not to trust people in those situations.

ANYWAYS!  So, I don't know how I'm acting, how I appear to others, if I seem okay, but I don't think I am 100% yet.  Apparently last week, I had sex with my husband and have absolutely no recollection of it, and also apparently, I didn't enjoy it.  Then maybe on Thursday?  I thought wow, we haven't had sex in awhile and mentioned it and he said you don't want to, you don't like it, you really hated it last time.  I was so confused, we hadn't tried in so long because I wasn't well and then he told me and said WHAT?  Then I asked him what I was wearing and he said I had come to bed and not put on a nightgown that night, I had on the red t-shirt I was wearing that day.  That is SO not like me!  I just simply WAS NOT THERE and he said yes, he had thought it was strange. 

But then even THAT night, I did weird things.  Like I climbed into bed and took off my underwear and shocked him so much he mentioned it.  I didn't even realize I had DONE that, I NEVER do that, so I started wondering why did I do that and how did I not know I did that?  What was wrong with me?

So see, all of these weird things I'm doing, I don't even realize I'm doing them unless someone tells me I am.  What else am I doing that I don't know?  I don't know what I don't know, you know? 

It's so very confusing to me and...since I don't know what I'm doing that is wrong or different or weird, it is quite scary.

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