Deep Breath and Prayer

I made it through the day. It has not been as easy as one might think. A large sum of emotions fueled by anger at myself. I will often say "I feel lost" to which we know the answer is, "I'm right here." Today, I didn't feel lost, I was lost. I think I still am. I'm "in a place" emotionally that is not familiar to me. I have been all day. I can't seem to describe it other than if I have been here before, I don't remember. It's hard to get help when you don't know where to send it. Whatever is happening, it is different that the habitual norm of my emotional downfalls. I have struggled today to keep things at some even level - no matter where that level would have been. Was not so much as highs and lows as lows and lowers. I have not been ok today. I am not sure I am yet. I don't like not being ok. There is a level of not being in control when you are not ok. I've gone through the day with a deep seeded feeling of sadness ...

It's morning. Sure came quick. Seems like when you get to bed after 2 you should be able to sleep past 8 am. I'm up. I ate. I have the emotional overload hangover. I looked around at my "this is your life" to-do list for today. I go sit on the couch which makes a snapping sound - it appears the patch job on the broken frame is seeing its last days. It's all a little overwhelming. If I were ever to get to that point where I could cry, this would be a good moment to do so. Tess snuggles up close, as if knowing I am distressed. I take a breath, "all is going to be ok" is what I tell myself. It was just a bump in the road. Just let emotions get the best of me. I just got too tired and let myself get off track. That's all. It is all going to be ok. At least that is what I am going with. Wags texts me. I know no matter how bad things may get or feel, I will hear from her in the morning. She tells me to go put ice on my hand. I tell her I can't, that wo...

I should be sound asleep right now. I should have been about 2 hours ago. I was (still am) exhausted, physically and emotionally. It's been a long week with a lot of things going on between work, home, and in my head. For the most part, I have done well balancing it all. There have been some moments, and still I did well with it. Then earlier tonight it started getting questionable. I made it through the panic attack from hell in Walgreen's. I used my resources and my plan. I got settled down, I was safe. Actually, I never let it get to a place where I was not safe or a danger to myself - whoo hoo, super big kudos. Even more exhausted, I made it home with no issues, did a few things, then off to bed. It is 1:15 am. I am eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Seeing that my stomach has been growling for the past hour, I do not feel guilty about it. I tried to go to sleep. There are times when I am so tired, I can't fall asleep. That was generally cured with a handful of ...

I have been avoiding writing posts. That is always a good sign that something is going on that I am doing my best to hide.  One might wonder why I do that. I have support and resources and I still am selective in my use of them. There are many times where I feel like what I am going through is my own issue. It is either a result of something I have done or it is something I have done. Yes, it is back to that again...I got myself here, it is my responsibility to get myself out of it. Tonight when I walked out of the building to go home, for a brief moment I felt safe. I was outside and I felt safe. Now it was just a flash of a moment and then things went back to my normal. I thought how it felt kind of weird and wonderful at the same time. I have been struggling with a lot of negative thoughts this week. Thoughts of hurting myself have been more in the forefront. I feel the desire and I see it in the flashes. I have not said anything because I know what is triggering them and theref...

If I were to go back in my posts, I am sure I will find it written...possibly several times...do not write narratives right before going to sleep. One would think I would remember that. Last night was a wonderful reminder full of dreams that supported the notion that I was not the person I used to be, that I couldn't handle simple situations, that I disappointed people. Ah, restful bliss!! Awoken at 2:30 am, I remember thinking among the anxiety, why didn't I listen to myself? Soon back to sleep and more dreams. I awoke this morning curled up in a tight ball, blankets pulled as close as they could be, having a panic attack. With my fist I continually rapped the side of my head, repeating out loud, "stop it, stop it, stop it." Ah, a beautiful morning experience everyone desires to have. Until I got myself fully awake it was a wave that kept hitting over and over, and even though I knew the cause, it was not something I was out to enjoy. I think about it now and I proba...

I was driving to my sister's this morning to keep her company during her garage sale, still pondering on things from last night. I thought to myself, "I am not less" and then as if someone laughing at me, I could feel the internal struggle between believing it and not believing it. Sometimes I feel like no one believes me when I say that I came out of the hospital a different person. I don't know if it is really a matter of coming out better or worse, I just came out different. Maybe people just are not able to understand or relate or something like that. All I know is that life was never the same. I will start back into the narrative here soon and start pulling thoughts, feelings, and memories out of that deep box. This has actually been harder to do than writing the other narratives that I have. Maybe because it just involves me. The whole experience was based on my choice. No one made me do anything, no one was a "part of it", it was just me. All positive...

It's well after midnight. I should be asleep. I sit here looking around my room. I will tell people who come over for the first time that my house is like a cross between a bachelor's pad and Ripley's Believe it or not. I tell them they could spend days in here and still not see everything. I have quite a collection of unique things that seem to reflect who I am. Sitting in my bed, I look around. In one corner hangs 3x5 flags for Argentina and Florida, a shout out to my mission. Closer up the wall, dance photos from my last few years in Charleston. A blank spot on the wall still awaits copies of my dance pictures when I was growing up. My Philadelphia Eagles memorabilia takes over half a wall and on another half, plaques and educational degrees. There's more, yet you get the idea. It all screams "accomplished" and "successful" and a whole list of positive an motivating words. It would be interesting to let a stranger come look through my house and th...