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.

 

 

 

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Summer of Disappointment

My summer began on May 27th.  I left directly from work to drive 16 hours to a wedding in North Dakota.   John’s relatives were there, I don’t think further explanation is necessary. Emily and I had spent a huge amount of time trying on dresses and rejecting everyone of them, usually because they didn’t fit me well.  In the last two years I have gained another 10 lbs (oh, you know there is going to be some follow up to that bombshell).  I finally found one, but it still wasn’t flattering.  I tried not to let my vanity get in the way of a fun time, but that that was a hopeless exercise as you would guess.

Emily and family came that week also.  It was very hectic.  I didn’t get to spend as much time with them as I wanted because there were so many things to be handled before I went to England.

Alison and I left  England with my Dad for two weeks.  To be honest, it wasn’t the best trip.  My dad was/is still trying to deal with the death of his older brother, Pete, and honestly I wasn’t much help. Sometimes I miss cues.  I feel guilty for that.

When we got back from England I decided enough was enough.  Allison’s depression and anxiety were getting worse. Everything she and I had tried failed. I took her to a psychiatrist. Maybe her moods were a chemical imbalance. After all, all of her female relatives on my side from her great grandma down have suffered from some degree of mental illness.

I tried everything that I had any knowledge of, I had read about or other people recommended.  There was Myofascial Release,  gluten free, clean eating, essential oils, supplements, a natural light alarm,  therapy, EMDR,  Brain Spotting, etc.

Oh, but the story gets better! One night she had a seizure!  A smallish one at first and two weeks later a “tonic clonic”.  It used to be known as a Grand Mal Seizure.

My lovely enlightened husband then blamed the whole thing on me and Zoloft. Even though five medical professionals said it would be very unlikely. We had a few knock down drag out fights because of this. It has been a heavy burden keeping Allison’s struggle front and center and not my own.

She had an EEG and an MRI, both normal. The only bright spot is she was diagnosed with Epilepsy.  I know that sounds strange, but it just might be the answer to a lot of things in her life.

Now she’s taking an anti-seizure medication.  If it takes care of the seizures it could also treat her anxiety and depression.  I guess time will tell.