The Basement full of secrets

Defeated,

I went beyond the basement

Greeted there by The END and Deeper.

We all sat awhile

I listened.

The END was so very strong but,

Deeper more convincing.

This time

Written on 4-4-22

Thinking I will add more

Support System Deficiency 

I’m told we all need a system of support, a safety net, that we can count on to help us through the rough patches in our life. My safety net died in 2004. My brother, my best friend in this lifetime. It’s hard to find the words to describe our relationship. Never judgmental, always supportive, kind, and loving. He kept me on my path. 

We spent most every Saturday together in the spa or pool which would morph into dinner then cards, games, or a movie. We shared our weeks happenings with each other. We held nothing back and no topic was off limits. More than anyone else in my life my brother taught me what unconditional love was all about. And then he was gone. Losing him created such a huge void for me.

I thought I was managing until the question was asked- Who is your support system? I had to really put some thought into this because my reality is I have no one. I am sure I could make a list with a few names on it who would help me with certain things, but right here and right now no one truly knows me and what’s happening. 

People say I will support you but I’m not sure what that means as I have been mostly alone during my journey with cancer and into my mental health struggles. It’s also often said that you isolate yourself when you’re depressed. I have to disagree because I have found that people generally don’t want to hear about the hard times. So am I truly self-isolating?

What does supporting someone mean to you? For me the term is holding space. It’s more difficult than it might seem.

I wrote an entire blog entry on being strong. I have been trying to redefine that word in my vocabulary because as a person who is genuine giver my choices for friends don’t always fulfill many of my needs. I definitely see how my tendencies have led me to this place of having so little support. 

Right now I am so thankful for the many different ways my therapist provides support. At the same time it makes me sad that this is where I am at and also conflicted at times because that is her job. It is for me a genuinely safe space that provides a ray of much needed hope.

Friends…More listening, less busy. Be willing to just be there..come as you are. 

I don’t know how my story ends yet. 

4-4-22

Awakening is a painful process. It’s brutal. Everything you thought you knew no longer is the way you know it to be. The sun looks different. Foods don’t taste the same. Conversations are held up to a new standard. Then, you find yourself on an island, raising your white flag, praying for another wakened soul to show you how to navigate your new surroundings. It is an unfolding of your soul. The pain is caused from ironing out the creases, trying to remove remnants of the former self. But it doesn’t work that way. The creases are scars, remnants of the journey you trekked to arrive at this destination. To lessen the pain you must surrender. You have to be ok with not being ok. Observe your unfolding . . . . For not only are you awakening to a new world, you are awakening to your true self.

~ S. Moultrup 

Longing for that awakening.

3-20-22

 

This is the only plan I have. Pretty wide open. 

3-10-22

 Struggling

I’ve really been struggling this week with wanting to give up. Everything I’ve gone thru and all that I’ve done to improve myself, my health, and yet I feel like there is so much left to over come. I get so overwhelmed and then lose hope. It’s still massive. I wonder if I am going to be able to find solutions. I can’t move forward until I solve a 50 year in the making lack of self love. 

Self-love: a state of appreciation for oneself that grows from actions that support our physical, psychological, and spiritual growth. Self-love means having a high regard for your own well-being and happiness. Self-love means taking care of your own needs and not sacrificing your well-being to please others. Self-love means not settling for less than you deserve. Self love means accepting yourself as you are in this very moment for everything that you are. It means accepting your emotions for what they are and putting your physical, emotional, and mental well-being first. 

I found the above in something I was reading. While it makes sense to me, it’s just not how my brain sees or believes and not how I have been living. I think most every person I know would not have a clue that outside of work I don’t really take very good care of myself and have very low self esteem. I have become expert at compartmentalizing all the different aspects of my life. It’s almost like I have a few different personalities and bring out which ever I need. I wonder if my brain broke because it became so confused. Maybe it’s just saying WTF. 

Searching for answers just keeps me finding more questions. This is not living. 

3-8-22

                                                          Going on is not a given

 Degeneration or Regeneration

I long for more moments to be able to experience that connection of body, heart, and mind again. Some days so desperate with almost irrational thoughts of how to create it. My feelings. Where have you gone? The memories from last weekend still with me. Life without feeling is death. 

My hope is fading. It seems at every turn all I find is more questions. At first it feels good to arrive and uncover. But those feelings soon give way to the reality of how enormously fucked up I am. I have so many doubts of ever being able to heal and overcome. It’s overwhelming. I don’t know how much longer I can continue to be here for myself. My days are becoming increasingly harder. I don’t mind the uncomfortable but I’m precariously hanging on to a thread that can snap at any moment. It’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when. 

The darkness and emptiness still surrounds me. The castle that I put so much effort into constructing layer by layer turns out not to be that fairy tale for retirement, but instead more of a horror film. I have become a POS- prisoner of self. There are no doors; they have been blocked for many years. The windows have not been clear enough to see through and light only graces the inside because of the exposure of minute cracks due to age. 

Broken brain. Escape is but a dream. I can’t find my way out of the nothingness. The walls collapse, crushing my soul.

3-6-22

Going outside the lines

A recent group of thoughts made me realize that I haven’t looked at myself in a mirror for many months. The last time I did, I had no real recognition of who that was looking back. The longing to find any semblance of myself has made me even more open to taking risks. 

I did a thing. I cried.

To feel actual tears flowing down my cheeks

A true release

Pink Floyd to ELO to Prince

I sang.

so loud I scared my cats

and then fell off my couch in laughter

I fucking danced, not well, but

I fucking danced! 

A whole gamut of emotions came and went

Every single one savored and fully experienced.

I went in search of answers but

Instead found feelings

Unexpected.

Magic.

Wonderfullyintensivelyoverwhelmimglyexcitingmassivelyunendingdeliciously 

challengingultimateemotionalconnectionawarenessfullspectrumexperience!!!

Holy fuck. 

Yesterday I did a thing. It’s been decades. For a few precious hours I actually felt something- my heart and brain and body and mind were reunited. To experience that comfort and contentment when it’s been absent for so long is not a single word I have in my vocabulary, thus my ode to Mary Poppins Super-cali-fragil-istic-expi-ali-docious! above.

The only thing absent at the end of the day was a hug.

2-27-22

 

You can be the side effect

I’d rather be the dope

-Prince-

 Broken Brain continues

There’s so many frustrating things about having depression. One is making it  all the way into this current state of Zombie. Pretty devoid of true emotions. Such a shitty place to live. The second thing is why I can’t figure out how to fix myself. 

I’ve been transparent with the fact that I’m currently in therapy. It’s been super difficult to know that I need to trust someone else to help me. It’s taken me awhile but I have been able to reveal things about myself that I’ve not ever told anyone. I do trust that I won’t get hurt there. Uncomfortable sure but that’s expected. You can’t heal what you don’t reveal. I read that somewhere and now try to repeat it to myself prior to my appointments. Trying every week to allow more truth to come out because I know how valuable insight is to my provider being able help me.

The picture that I posted says so much to me. If I answer the question truthfully it’s because it’s hard to give a fuck about much of anything right now. My lack of caring for myself has been at an all time low. I forget to eat or just don’t. I don’t remember to brush my hair or teeth everyday. I wear the same clothes a lot. I haven’t done my laundry in over a month. Finally washed my dishes after a month. I could go on as it’s ugly but it’s my current reality. It’s incredibly tough to admit these things to myself let alone put them here for all to read. I’ve deleted and rewritten this several times but ultimately decided to share. A new level of low. For me. If it’s part of this illness, it truly sucks.  

What does all this mean? Am I giving up or is it just part of this fucked up brain of mine? Will it all come crashing down? Will I step off the ledge?  I don’t have the answers. I’m still searching. I just don’t want it to be desperately because I think that will be too late.

2-19-22

Broken Brain

Jethro Gibbs rule number 28: When you need help-ask. 

 

Depression. If you’re lucky you could also get the bonus of episodes of high anxiety and flat out panic attacks. I say this in jest but it’s been my reality for months now. Trying to navigate this new reality everyday is challenging to say the least. Every single day is a struggle. Some days demand me to find every bit of energy I can just to navigate the day. 

It’s so frustrating because I think I should be fixing myself and I can’t figure out how. Believe me I try. I’m trying hard to allow the professional to utilize the training and expertise they have to help me. I just keep telling myself I could truly do more harm than good to myself by not listening to them. It’s still difficult to trust and depend on someone else but I’m getting better at it.

So what does it feel like to be depressed? Here’s some of my thoughts as I’ve been dealing with it:

Like shit. Like nothingness. A big black hole. Hopelessness. Frustration and inadequacy. Empty. Worthless. Failure. Drowning. Massive. Messy. Endless. No future. Zombie. Heavy. Shame. Prisoner. Overwhelming. Done with life. Suffocating. On an island full of darkness. Lonely. Loud. Painful. Confused. Sad. Nobody’s home.Life sentence. Trapped. A horror film that I can’t wake up from. 

I’m living with no joy or pleasure or sense of worth.

I can’t get out of my own way. 

I’ve fully lost myself with zero idea how to find me. 

Life without feeling is death. 

I still go to bed and hope I never wake up. Broken brain. Fucked up mind. Simply existing. I don’t know who this is inside my mind but I’m giving my best actress job to most. Not a place I want to continue to live. 

Depression sucks! 

I wish…..                                 

2-2-22

I enjoy the  drawings in this video. 

https://youtu.be/z-IR48Mb3W0

 Trying to rest today. Not just my body but my mind too. Always a hard week. So much attached to the memories. 

 

 The topic of suicide is not exactly something that many people are willing to discuss. I certainly can understand how uncomfortable it may be and maybe hard to understand for many. It’s been on my mind a lot. 

So many changes for me the past two years. Almost everything in my life plan has been altered. Honestly I don’t recognize myself much these days. The darkness and emptiness, the lack of worth, of purpose, and most of all joy; struggling everyday for a reason.to want to continue. For me, like many others, thoughts of suicide are not really about wanting to die but instead about not knowing if I want to live any longer. 

They say suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. But is this always the case? I was reading an article entitled “Rational Suicide”. Just the title intrigued me. The article was about how older adults, especially those in assisted living facilities, have been gathering outside of their facilities to discuss options for suicide. They are creating a plan to choose when they die prior to dementia or Alzheimer’s taking their choice away. At these meetings they share different methods of how to end their own life. These meetings take place away from their residences as apparently this topic is not allowed on the inside. Why? Because the facilities can be punished by Medicare for suicides that happen there. 

As a long time health care provider I don’t have an issue with wanting to be able to die when we choose. I see so much suffering. We should all have this choice. Not just the terminally ill. Protecting life at all costs has never made much sense to me. It’s one of those just because we can doesn’t mean we should. The dilemma seems to be is taking your own life ever rational? 

I’m not sure I can truly answer that question. I say yes it can be. But this is broken me talking. Are my thoughts on this right now rational? Again I feel like they are but….. Right now I am trying to figure out if I really want to keep living. That’s the honest truth. I’ve not put a time limit on it but what I can say is the way I am living right now I cannot sustain forever. Life without feeling is death. 

On a recent pod cast I caught, the psychotherapist was saying that suicide is all about anger and hate. While I could see where he is coming from, for me it’s about some other emotions too, especially pain. The pain of feeling the nothingness and the hopelessness. Not knowing if I’m willing or even want to fight my way through. These are feelings I’ve not had before so who is to say I can be fixed. Doubts easily creep in. 

As hard as I have been working to deal with my physical health issues, I still have so much more I have to go through to get my body well. Then there’s this fucked up mind of mine. This all has taken a massive toll on me. This depression and anxiety and panic attacks. It’s all so foreign and overwhelming. And I’m still so tired. 

The hardest thing is trying to care >>>>>> about myself. I’m not sure if I even know how. 

1-14-22

This happened on 1-15-22

 2022….It’s a new year. I wish I was feeling the happiness that is supposed to come with the start of a new year. I’m just not there. 

I started this blog to share my health journey, my navigating breast cancer. The one thing I am leaving behind in 2021 is the actual cancer itself. There is always a risk of it returning or getting it in the other breast but while it will be in the back of my mind it’s not at the top of my list any longer. So what is? Physically that would be chronic pain from hips, back, and headaches. But my number 1 priority right now is my mental health.

While mental health care has certainly been out in the public eye thanks to people like Simone Biles and Michael Phelps, I never, in my wildest, ever would have seen myself here. Depression, anxiety, panic attacks, and thoughts of suicide have been a daily reality for me. Most people do not understand that you don’t just wake up and get over it. This is all new to me. I  don’t feel like I’m coping well. Broken. 

I am sure that I have been depressed for much longer than I am aware of. I seemed to manage it until events in my life just overwhelmed me and my ability to cope was interrupted in a big way. I get frustrated because I have been able to find answers and solutions to everything that I have encountered in my life. I’ve depended upon myself for so many years. This is so different and unfamiliar. I don’t know how to fix this for myself. 

To be clear I am seeing a psychologist as I recognize I need professional help. Accepting the help and trusting the process takes time. I have never been in therapy before except for a short forced stint as a teenager. I have no idea how it works or what to expect. It’s very peculiar telling someone things about yourself that you’ve not ever told anyone else. Fixing anything is never easy with no exception for this fucked up brain of mine. It is at times uncomfortable and I must force myself to be honest. I try to remember that my therapist is not judging but they cannot help if they don’t know. I can’t heal if I don’t reveal. 

What I do know is every single day is hard. Every single day is painful. I am tired. I am struggling. My current reality is truly unknown. This is no place to live. 

1-9-22