My New Mantra – Life Sucks

My therapist has been trying to break me of the way I view life when I’m happy or depressed. When I’m happy because things are going well and I’m accomplishing my emotional goals, I tend to think nothing ever bad will happen that I can’t handle. And then, of course, as soon as depression comes on or something terrible happens, I rate it as the worst I’ve ever felt and the emotions will never lift and I will never have control over my life.

I’ve got some pretty bad situations going on right now. For a year actually. I can’t believe I’ve made it as far as I have without cracking. I almost cracked a year ago over the summer. Rock bottom, thank god I’ve reached it and hopefully never have to take back that statement. I ended up in the hospital because of a practice suicide. I’ll have to explain that another time too, because this post is about reality.

I thought one day, a revelation of sorts, who ever said your life was supposed to be happy? It was actually a relief after I thought about it for a few days. I was always feeling like I wasn’t doing things right or failing getting my life in order.

Life sucks and then it gets better. I repeated it so many times and it blew my mind. The disappointment is gone when something bad happens and the joy of living in the moment when things are good is contentment. Imagine me, being content? If it’s only for an hour or so, I’ll take it! It is a brand new emotion for me. It’s rare for anyone I thing unless you are baby or a sleeping golden retriever.

So when I realized life sucks, etc, I created the “spiral”. I framed it and it hangs on my my wall so I can see it. The heart is there because one day I hope to love myself.

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Tiles for everthing!

Is it paranoia to suspect I have gremlins following me around moving things I have just put down?  I wasn’t paranoid before, years ago, but I didn’t have that problem then.  I’ve put “Tiles” on my two sets of keys and my purse, my most lost items.  I think I’ve already saved a couple of searching hours in the last month.

I’ve lost my wedding ring, my work keys, $1400 in cash to name a few. It’s like I spend time thinking where I should put these valuable items and then immediately forget. It’s like when I change a password, if I don’t immediately put in in my phone, I forget it. Then I have to change it a second time.

I know it is a side effect of my Bipolar condition. Memory loss. It feels more like memory slipping through my fingers.

I make jokes at work when something is missing, “have you looked in my safe place”. Of course there is no such place. More like a black hole of important never to be seen again items.

I did track down where I had left my work keys. I threw them in the trash with a plastic drop cloth I was using for painting. So now I have to lurk around waiting for another coworker so I can follow them in, or have to ring the bell. How humiliating.

Then there was the $1400 cash.  I had my furnace fixed and confidently when upstairs to get cash to pay the invoice.  I went directly to an old purse hanging in my closet. The money wasn’t there because the purse was gone, I had given it to Goodwill the week before! I frantically called Goodwill and told them my story and could they look for it.  The manager was wonderful and said she would do what she could.

While I was waiting for her to call back with triumph in her voice, I began to think. Round and round in my head, searching for a clue in my overworked brain that would lead me to another tenuous memory. Waiting for that revelation when the clues finally lead me to the money. I rummaged through everything for hours. Even places I knew the money couldn’t possibly be.

Then it happened (angel’s chorus).  I looked at the picture on my wall and all the gears slid into place. I had hidden the money behind the picture frame!  It must’ve taken it out before I put the purse in the pile for goodwill.

I love it when I am that smart! I just wish it wasn’t wasted on my scatterbrainess (made up word). I called up Goodwill and thanked them profusely.

I don’t think it’s going to end or get any better, and I haven’t come up with a system to fix it yet. Well, that may not be true. I haven’t tried attaching Tiles to all my important items with glue dots.

Simplicity…. Could it be that simple?

I’ve not been able to write about my life in a long time.  I realized that when I wrote down what was going on it brought it all back.  It turns out I am still a master at not thinking about things when I stay busy.  That sounds like a very simple strategy, but it works even better now that the “tricks” I’ve learned over the years are now finally embedded in my brain.  It’s a lot like when we hear repeatedly,”to lose weight, diet and exercise.”  I had decided not to believe that before (me and the people that spend more than a billion dollars on dieting.”  Well, it is true, it’s boring, but it’s true.  Turns out thinking positively, keeping a positive journal (no matter how fake and cheesy if feels in the beginning) works.  Trying very hard and consistently to not dwell on things you cannot fix – works too!

Beginning from my divorce, I’ve slowly lost all the relationships that have been the center of my world. I’m not going to rehash the details, but I will begin to write how I’m dealing with it.

From what I’ve learned so far, simplicity.

A Pig With No Name

In the beginning of my divorce I bought a ceramic pig with wings. It was meant to symbolize how I used to think I could only leave John “when pigs fly”.

I set it on the floor of my car and before I even got home it’s ear had broken off. I glued it back on and again, thought about how it symbolized mending my life. I usually name things, and was waiting for a name to come to me.

Shorty after I moved into my new place I knocked the pig over and his other ear broke off. I didn’t have glue so I used packing tape to fix it temporarily. Again more symbolism for the particular divorce hell I was going through and I was doing my best “taping my life together’

The dog knocked it off about 3 months ago (had thought I’d moved him to a safer place), I taped the ear back on again. I still couldn’t come up with a name.

Last week I was taking a frame off the wall and it fell on the pig and he lost both ears.

So now I have a different view. That pig had become the Dorian Gray of my life. Looking good on the outside, but in reality, rotting, hidden from view. Even fixing him each time didn’t work. And after its last accident and my last post, I think it’s time to get him out of here!

Rock Bottom, Hit

Have you ever been so sad that you can’t move?  Feeling so depressed and rejected that even moving your face to cry is impossible?  Tears just roll down your cheeks? Chest unable to heave?

The feeling of unimportance finally proven to be true?  That all along fighting the thoughts of being unlovable were in vain?

All of those coping skills learned, all of the meds, all of the triumphs to succeed in life against incredible odds fail?

The betrayal so overwhelming and complete that your broken heart can’t move you?

The only way to tell these feelings is in a blog, because telling anyone else just makes you look more pathetic than you already feel?

This is the place I usually insert the last line of hope or whit not to worry anyone that I might finally crack.

This morning sitting comatose on my couch for the first time in my life might just be a step closer.

 

 

 

Is this rock bottom? Nope, not yet.

Time for some honesty.  My life has been hell for the last two years.  It wasn’t that great before divorce, but never like this.

My oldest daughter and I used to be so close, but since the divorce, it has changed.  She doesn’t text back, return phone calls or emails.  There are plenty of ideas going around that have nothing to do with me, but the evidence is irrefutable, it’s me.

My youngest daughter, who came out to me last summer, is transgender.  I’ve been coping, adjusting and trying to understand.  He’s moved in with his dad (and woman he was cheating on me with) last month and has cut off all contact with me.  If you will remember, his dad is a raging narcissist and still will not stop tormenting me.  I suspect Caleb is a border line.  Might as well throw that in to my family; border line, bipolar, narcissist….I’m surprised any of my children are functioning.

I have also be cut off by my beloved sister.  I guess mental illness and the drama of my marriage, divorce, transgender child was just too much for her.  I’ve sucked her dry.

My therapist is actually just trying to keep the boat afloat.  Trying to give me ways to cope, because facts are facts, all this shit is happening and I can barely come up for air before some other event occurs.

I had to call 911 on Caleb before he moved into his Dad’s because he threw a tantrum and was destroying my bedroom and bathroom.  Glass was everywhere and due to his mental health I was afraid for him.  No one from my family has asked me, what happened and how I am.  I am totally shut out.

What the hell is going on?  I am alone.  I’m supposed to be depending on my friends according to my therapist, but I’m not there yet.  It’s not the same.  I’ve never lived alone.  As with most mothers, my family has been a huge part of who I am and now they are all gone.

I’m sure it looks bad for me.  I must have done something.  I must be something to drive everyone away.  The only thing I am is … well the only thing I think I am is unimportant and not worth the effort.

I feel like shit right now.  I feel like shit everyday.  I’ll make it though and eventually get to enjoy my life.  I’ve been telling myself that for 52 years.

 

What would you do for sugar?

When you really need sugar and by accident find these under your bed! They weren’t all chewy sweet tarts though.

Can you find the ibuprofen hidden in the chewy sweet tarts?