Pushing Myself Way Beyond Comfort

The past couple days have been pretty difficult. I’ve been pushing myself to do things that I normally wouldn’t do. I’m doing these things because I know that they would help my husband and mother-in-law. I know I don’t have to do these things. It’s my choice. I’m choosing to do them because I think it’s a way for me to love and support my husband and mother-in-law.

Saturday night, my husband asked me if I wanted to go play darts. I got ready and took a Valium. My husband really just needed to get out of the house. We had a good time. We met his best friend there and got to meet his new girlfriend, who we both like. The hardest part was walking into the bar and through crowds. I was okay once we got to the dart boards. There were a lot of people there. My husband was very helpful. He made sure to always hold my hand when we were moving around and he stood behind me when there were other people standing behind me.

This morning, I decided to go to church. It’s a Christian church. Again, I took a Valium because I knew this would be more than difficult. I knew it would make my mother-in-law very happy, and it did. About half of it was singing. My husband told me a few times that I could sing along (almost everyone did), but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to sing along with words that I don’t believe in. Honestly, I have no clue what I believe in. I know that there is a power greater than myself; I’m obviously not all-powerful. However, that’s really all I know and believe at this point.

Going to church today really made my mother-in-law happy. It put a huge smile on her face. She even thanked me for coming and acknowledged how difficult it must have been for me to do so. I’ve been trying to figure out why I decided to go to church. I’m not sure if this is a reason or not, but I chose to go because no one ever asked me to going. Everyone knows I have a hard time with church and God. I wasn’t pushed into doing something I didn’t want to do. I was accepted for who I am, and that’s why I went. I’m not sure if I will go again or not. Right now, I’m completely overwhelmed with life. I wish there was a way to simply pause everything.

I Went To A New Salon

I went to a new salon today to get my eyebrows waxed. I did some research and found out that their slowest time of the day is between 2pm and 3pm, so that’s when I went. The store is in a retirement community, so the people there will not make me as nervous as other younger individuals. I still had to take a Valium in order to go, but I did really good while I was there. The woman who I worked with was really nice and easy to understand. I plan on going back there from now on whenever I need anything done by a salon.

There is also a grocery store right next door to this salon. It’s a Bashas’ grocery store, and I know those stores because that’s where we went grocery shopping when I was in an alcohol/drug treatment center. I think I could possible be comfortable going to this grocery store. Plus, it’s a lot closer to our house than where’s I’m currently going. Maybe I’ll have my husband come with me the first time, just to make me feel a little safer.

I’m proud of myself for finally trying to go somewhere new. Anything new is extremely difficult for me, but I’m glad I’m not giving up.

Learning To Be Comfortable In My Own Skin

This is me, continuing to push myself. I am trying to get more comfortable in my own body, especially with my legs. I deserve to be comfortable in my own skin and I’m working on reaching that goal. Normally, I don’t even feel secure enough in my own body, even when I’m home alone, so I almost always wear pants. However, I’m trying to become a bit more comfortable with myself. Over the past few days, I have been wearing pajama shorts around the house and while on walks. I need to become more secure with myself.

I’m posting these pictures of my legs that I took yesterday. I need to become comfortable walking around the house and the neighborhood in shorts. I also need to become comfortable knowing that these pictures are out there. And like yesterday’s post, I know that people are not focusing on me and my legs. I’m not the center of attention (thankfully).

Emotionally Numb, Uncomfortably Numb

Do you ever feel stuck? As if no matter what you do or how hard you try, nothing will end up working out in your favor? That’s how I feel right now. There are too many things going on in life and I’m having a hard time processing them all. I’m emotionally numb; uncomfortably numb (not because of drugs, because of my mental health).

I’m weighed down with life in general. I feel like a failure; like I keep doing the wrong thing. I just want a break from all of the doctor appointments for a little while. I want a break from not knowing how I feel and not knowing how to respond when people ask me how I’m doing. Even my therapist has told me that I’m much quieter than I used to be, I’m not talking very much. That’s just because I’m so overwhelmed, I don’t know what to say.

Blaming Myself Is Exhausting

If you’re anything like I am, you blame yourself for everything that goes wrong in your life. Every time that something goes differently than I want it to, I consider it to be my fault. The truth is, it may not be anyone’s fault, but I still blame myself. This is a very hard way to live life, and it’s very exhausting as well. I also tend to apologize to others for no reason. My husband is always asking me why I keep saying ‘I’m sorry’. I don’t know what to tell him. I do my best not to apologize for that; to be honest, I don’t know where this issue comes from.

It’s not necessary to take responsibility for everything that happens in life. Some things just don’t go the way you want them to; however, I don’t know how to express my feelings to other people without telling them I’m sorry. When my husband is in pain, I tell him I’m sorry. What am I supposed to tell him? When my friend is upset, what am I supposed to tell him/her? I suppose I’m just unsure how to express my emotions. I’m open to suggestions, if anyone would like to offer any.

Unknown Anxiety

I’m sitting on the couch, rocking back and forth. My arms and legs are curling me into a ball. Parts of me shake as I rock back and forth; it’s usually my right leg that shakes uncontrollably. Normally, I know the reasons for my anxiety attacks. In fact, I think that this is the first time that I don’t know what’s happening.

The only thing I can think of is that my husband and I both have appointments at Discount Tire tomorrow morning. I need two new tires and he needs a new one because he got a flat last night. New things normally cause me to have anxiety, but this shouldn’t be a problem because my husband will be with me. He always makes me feel safe.

I have a lot to do around the house. Maybe cleaning will keep my mind occupied and reduce my anxiety. Plus, my house could use some cleaning. I think it’s been over a week since I did a good cleaning. If cleaning doesn’t work, then maybe I’ll take a Valium, but I only like to take those when absolutely necessary. I could also try meditation once I’m able to stop rocking and shaking.

UPDATE: I started cleaning my house and my anxiety got better. I like seeing a clean house, it makes me feel relaxed. It’s nice to know that there are people in all parts of my life that are willing to help me though anything. Thanks for the suggestions and support.

I Did Well… For A While – My Life: Part 5

After working at the rehab for 9 months, I decided I wanted to move forward with my life. I applied for many jobs in Phoenix. I got a job as a receptionist for a legal compliance and ethics e-learning company. I found an apartment in Phoenix and moved there with a guy I was dating from the rehab, but that relationship didn’t last. I don’t know when our relationship ended, but I think we lived together for about a year. I adopted a dog and named him Cash (after Johnny Cash). He was awfully energetic and liked to chew on everything. I learned how to train him, and he started to behave properly. Cash came with me to AA camping events, which was a blast. At some point, I found a great AA club where I would go to the same meeting every day at 6pm. I don’t like change, so moving was scary. I like to keep a regular schedule. I made a lot of friends at the meeting, but I would only go to that one meeting every day. One of the guys I met was Brandon, who became my best friend. He had the same sarcastic attitude that I have and we got along wonderfully.

I was doing really well at this time in my life. I got a promotion at work, I was able to live on my own, make friends, and maintain my sobriety and my mental health. I took my medication and saw my doctors regularly. I was seeing the psychiatrist that was treating me while I was in rehab. Brandon asked me to workout with him. I told him no for months, and then I ultimately caved and decided to go with him. I was terrified because it was something new, but Brandon made me feel safe. After working out with him once, I was hooked. I loved it. We started working out together 5 days a week. It helped me get through my days at work. I would go to work, then workout with Brandon, and then go to my meeting (often with Brandon). I was happy with this new schedule; it was working well for me.

In the beginning, I wasn’t open about my mental health when it came to my AA meetings. My close friends knew, but that was all. Eventually, I ended up talking about my bipolar disorder in a meeting. I felt as if it wasn’t accepted. Several times, I was told that I didn’t have a mental health problem. It was just an issue to work on through step work. That was a problem for me. I didn’t feel accepted. My mental health was a huge part of my life. Even when I’m doing well, it’s still a large piece of my life. I was stable for years. That had never happened to me before.

My psychiatrist decided to wean me off my meds slowly because I had been stable for such a long period. It was possible that my mental health issues were drug related, so we thought it was worth a try to get off medication. I was down to two medications, and then she took me off the Seroquel. About 4 months later, I started to fall apart. I thought it would be a good idea to go to therapy again because I started to remember things that I hadn’t previously remembered. These memories triggered what was eventually diagnosed as PTSD. With the PTSD coming up and the med changes occurring, it was like the perfect storm. I started having hallucinations and was shaking uncontrollably. My psychiatrist put me on Abilify, but that made it worse. I barely slept for 3 weeks.

My job let me work from home, but after a little while, I couldn’t even manage that any more. I went on short-term disability, which then turned into long-term disability. There were times that I struggled to feed the dog. My mom came out to stay with me for a little while, but she couldn’t be there all the time. I decided to move back to Connecticut because I couldn’t be on my own anymore. I’m lucky that she was able and willing to let me and my dog move in with her. My long-term disability turned in to Social Security Disability.

I thought writing my story would help my memory, and it has; but it has also become difficult for me. There’s a lot that I struggle to remember, and a lot of other things I wish I didn’t remember. I think I’m going to take a break from writing my story for a little while.

Getting Sober And Starting A Life – My Life: Part 4

I flew across the country at the end of April in 2004. On April 29^th, 2004 I was admitted to a year-long in-patient rehab. I was excited to go until I got there. Once I arrived, my fears kicked in and I told my mom that I changed my mind about going to rehab. She ensured me that I could do it. I trusted her; I always trust my mom because she has never given me a reason not to.

Rehab was very tough. I couldn’t talk to my family for the first 6 weeks. Then I could only talk to them once a week on Sundays for 15 minutes. There was a strict schedule that had to be followed. On Sundays we had to clean our living areas and everything had to pass inspection. I think that may be why I am so obsessive about cleaning my house. We had to make dinner every night for our houses. This required making a menu, grocery list, and assigning specific tasks. I had a therapist and a psychiatrist that I saw weekly. They managed my medication so I never missed a dose.

We were required to go to AA meetings that were put on by the staff members. A couple times a week we were allowed to go to outside meetings that were supervised by staff members. We were also required to have a sponsor and do step work. In the beginning, it was tough. However, as time went on, it became normal. The step work brought up a lot of issues that I was able to work on. The hardest part for me was believing in a Higher Power. I’m Jewish by blood, but I was raised Catholic. I never believed in what I was taught in Sunday school and I never related to anything I heard in church. I don’t like the word God for many reasons. Overall, I just don’t believe in God. Some people may not like to hear that, but I’m just being honest. The great part about belief according to AA is that you just have to believe in a power greater than yourself. I can admit that. I know that I’m not the most powerful thing out there. I’m not sure what it is, but I know it’s not me. I do believe in science and Mother Nature, which then became my Higher Power.

Family was invited to visit every 3 months for workshops, which helped to work through some family problems. My mom came every time. My brother, sister, and aunt each came for one of the workshops as well as my graduation. I was so amazed at how much my family supported me; especially after all of the crap I put them through over the years. Once I completed the year-long program (which felt like forever), I worked at the rehab for 9 months helping others get sober.

I made some friends from the rehab, but most of those relationships faded off. I did date one of the guys that I met there, and we ended up living together for a while. The school teacher from the rehab became a close friend of mine and we spent time together after I left. His wife ended up being my sponsor when I lived on my own. I even became close with their family.

The First Downfall – My Life: Part 3

Just before I turned 17, I met a guy and was immediately attracted to him. Jared had a personality that was appealing to many. He made friends with people easily, but he only let them see the side of his personality that he wanted them to see. For the first couple months of our relationship, he only let me see positive traits. Once we moved in together, everything changed. He became physically and emotionally abusive. He would tell me when I could see my friends. I had to have dinner on the table when he got home, or else. We did a lot of drugs together. I fell for every trick he played and didn’t stand up for myself at all. He had me convinced that I was lucky to have him; he made me believe that no one else would want me. The worst part of it all is that he broke up with me. He said I wasn’t happy anymore. I remember telling him he would regret it. I was devastated. I don’t know why I was so hung up on a guy that treated me like crap, but I was.

At a party, I met a guy who was so sweet. Chris was the exact opposite of Jared, except for the drug use. I started smoking crack when I met Chris. Jared tried to get back together with me, but I finally stood up for myself and told him no. Jared started stalking me at that point, so I became terrified for my safety even more than I already was. Chris and I dated for several months. He kept talking about getting sober, but I wasn’t ready for that. I was completely addicted to crack that it came before everything. I was even with Chris getting high instead of being at the hospital when my dad died. That is one of the biggest regrets I have. Chris ended up getting killed only a few months after we met.

The loss of my father was exceedingly difficult, even though I knew for years that it was coming. He had been sick for many years with cancer and kidney failure. He ended up dying from an infection on October 10th, 2003. He was in the ICU for a while before his death. I miss my father and think of him every day. Losing him was like losing a part of myself. I wish I had been there to support my family, but I was too far into my addiction. I wish he could have seen me get sober.

My drug use was insane, I was almost always drunk or high on something. All of this made my mental health even worse. I was dealing with rapid cycling; I was either manic or depressed at all times. I didn’t want to spend much time with my friends, the few that I had left. All I wanted to do was die. This was probably my lowest point in life. I finally decided I wanted to quit drinking and using, but I couldn’t do it. I wished I was dead every day. I had lost so much in life, but the worst thing I lost was my self-respect.

One day, I had finally had enough. I went to my mom and told her I couldn’t take it anymore. I told her I needed to go back into the hospital. She told me that a behavioral health hospital would not fix things. I needed more than that; I needed to get sober. Apparently, she had already been looking at places to send me. She showed me some of the places she found. I was interested in this one place in Arizona; it was a year-long in-patient treatment center. It treated drug and alcohol abuse as well as mental health. I actually became excited; I finally felt a glimmer of hope. I was scared, but so enthused about the possibility of feeling better, that it actually lessened the fear. Most people don’t go to rehab willingly. I went not only willingly, but eagerly. I was also terrified; the thought of something new scared me, but the depression was so horrible that I felt my only other option was death.

I Feel Like Two Different People

I often feel like I’m two different people. This is the ‘pretend’ or ‘fake’ person. It’s not that I’m being fake, I’m just holding back. I’m one person when I’m around people I trust, such as my husband and my mom. I can fake being okay and my paranoia, anxiety, and fears decrease. This is the person that I make up; the person I let others see. I can also be this person around other people such as family members and friends. It’s just harder for me to keep up this person. But for some reason, I always feel like I need to put on this other persona. I don’t exactly know why, especially with the people I trust the most. Maybe, I’m just trying to give myself a break from the other person that I am; allowing myself to release some of my anxiety and paranoia. I usually need the help of Valium to do this with people other than my husband and mom.

Then, there’s this second person, the real me. I’m the person who jumps at every little noise. This is the person who sometimes keeps a baseball bat by the door and keeps a knife in my pocket when out for a walk, just in case. My paranoia increases when I’m alone. I have more auditory hallucinations when I’m by myself, although I’m learning to tell which things I hear are real and which are hallucinations. When I leave the house by myself, I’m constantly looking around, especially behind me, so I can see everything that’s happening. I never want to be caught off guard. I rarely ever take anti-anxiety medication when I’m by myself in my house. I prefer to use it when I leave my house or when I with others, that way I can be that other ‘pretend’ person.

I wonder if I’ll ever feel safe again when I’m by myself. Despite the fact that I’m pretending when I’m around others, I do feel safer than I feel when I’m alone. I feel like two different people. Each ‘person’ comes naturally. People I trust tell me I don’t have to pretend to be anyone or anything, but it just happens. For some reason, I don’t feel like I have control over which person appears, it’s just instinctive. Does anyone else have this issue or feel this way?

My Side of the Pole

Bipolar – Mental Health

Category: Insecure