Every once in a while, I get confused about all the different points in my life. What milestone is Ellie at, and should she be there? What is happening in Cameron’s mind now? When is Paul going to fix this? Why can’t I fix it? What else needs to be done today? Why can’t I just go back to bed? Where are Cole’s grades at this week? What is happening at Cole’s house?
Yea, you get why I can be easily side tracked now, uh?
So I have a notebook I carry around the house with me. That way I can write things down as I go about my day. If its on paper, then I don’t feel like I have to keep it in my brain. It makes me less “weighed down” I guess. Then I can feel more productive, because I am not constantly worrying about forgetting something, or missing something. I hate feeling that way.
Its because of this that I started to write this blog to begin with. A way to get my thoughts and life experiences out. So I don’t forget them. So I can help others. So I can still be me.
As I have gotten older, I have seen certain parts of me disappear. Some things are just the natural order of maturity happening. Things I thought were funny as a teenager or young adult, just seem stupid now. But other things are more, lost. What happened to the woman that never let anyone get her down? Who always kept a positive outlook on life? Who would never have dreamed that someone could make her feel worthless?
Some of this has to do with mental health issues. I know this. Am I happy about that? God no. It might be an answer to feelings and thought processes I have, but its not an answer I am ok with, or proud of (I really don’t know anyone who is). I am constantly looking for a different, more effective and homeopathic way of getting “Me” back. Some things work well and still do. Some things worked well in the past and don’t now. Other things never worked at all. I have taken prescribed medication and hated it, but it worked. I just don’t want to STAY on it. A few people, some who have the same problems or differences as I, tell me to embrace the meds if they work. It’s no different then someone taking insulin everyday because of their diabetes. That is true. I know that. I worked in the medical field for much too long to deny that fact. But that still doesn’t make me want to take that pill everyday. So I take them to get my head on straight and then I wean myself off and work at meditation and deep breathing and finding my “happy place”. It works for a while anyway. Then my thoughts start to get jumbled up again.
Then I feel lost. Where did I go? Why do I keep feeling like this? What can I do to make it stop?
I am not a good Mother, when I am like this. I am not a good wife. Everything is falling apart and I can’t fix it. Paul will leave me. My kids will hate me.
And yet, also in my mind, is the voice telling me that this is a chemical imbalance in my brain. I AM a good Mother. I AM a good wife. Paul loves me and (better yet) understands me. Nothing is falling apart. The kids don’t hate me. They are confused by my reactions sometimes.
All of this is running through my head. Both sides. As I type right now, I can feel the war, raging within my subconscious.
It’s ridiculous and I hate it.
I can understand Cameron better then anyone else, because I know what he goes through on a daily basis, to some degree. Mind you, his issues are different then mine in a lot of ways that I can not relate to or understand, but there is always the underlying depression and anxiety that we share. Its a painful reality that I face every time Cameron starts talking at a rapid pace. Because when that happens, I hear myself and my own mind, going too fast to stop it and make sense of everything.
There is a fine line between insanity and acceptance. I believe insanity is made up of denial and a lack of self worth. If you deny whats happening in your mind and are worried about those around you will think, then you are insane. Your insane to think that you will have any honest and meaningful relationships without being true to yourself. Letting others define your identity is insanity anyway. Accepting yourself, fully, is the only way to live happily. Trust me. I have been there.
Of course, the above paragraph might piss some people off, but I really don’t care. Because I lived it. That is my honest and true definition of what I believe insanity to be. I was completely insane to believe my ex-husband when you told me that medication was for crazy people and if I take what was prescribed to me, then I would be a worthless crazy person and he would take Cameron away from me. That no one would ever want to talk to me again and that I just needed to suck it up and get my ass out of bed and “deal with life”. Or when he said I was better off dead if I couldn’t do my “wifely duties”. I put up with that kind of emotional abuse for almost 7 years. I was insane.
After he left and I got control of myself, I stopped denying my issues. I went to the doctors and a therapist and worked hard at my life and my self-worth. I honestly love myself. And when that happened, I found the best thing that ever happened to me, other then my kids: Paul. He loves me for me and accepts me, for me. He tells me when I need to start thinking about calling the doctor for meds again and praises me for keeping my shit together when he knows its hard for me to do. He knows there was a time when I really was the mentally strong and capable person I wish, I still was. But he doesn’t care that its all a facade for everyone else’s benefit now. He still loves me.
And even though I still have rough days and I still hate the meds and I want it all to go away, I also know that its part of me. And that’s ok. Because what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.
Or something like that.