deza | (no subject)

(no subject)

I am... not doing so very well.

The rug was pulled out from under my feet yesterday. I've told myself for years now that I'm ok, I've got it together, I can get through anything. Yesterday I found out that I'm mentally messed up enough to count as disabled on just that.

Well, that explains my writing, at least.

This has thrown me for a serious loop. I'm not ok. I'm not completely sane. I'm not even coping so well. Going through even a fraction of my past left me crying for hours afterward. Today, I'm emotionally spent. I've been crying off an on again, but for the most part I just feel dead inside. Andrew's tried to cheer me up, but his brand of morbid humor's been missing the mark on this. A for effort, though.

Gods, now I sound like the original Emo.

The psychologist asked if I'm suicidal. I said no, because suicide would keep my family from getting as much of a death benefit. I'm alive, but not for the right reasons.

This post brought to you be the letters W, A, and H.

Hopefully I'll be back to my normal self soon.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Little comfort, but, at least we can be mentally fucked up together. I mean, I have past rapes, assaults, parental abuse, and now, retrograde dissociative amnesia and major depression and borderline personality disorder (no wonder I want to screw everything that moves... but don't). And to think I filed for just Lupus and passing out...

Anyhow, all I'm saying is that it's really, really hard, but you aren't alone. You have a mentally messed-up friend who gets it, and gets how hard it can be. What I tried to do to myself two weeks ago... the urge is still there, and may always be, but I have to fight through it. If I can live with this physical pain, I have to find a way to beat this shit in my brain, too.

*hugs*

And what is normal, anyhow?

Hey you - happy "birth"day!

I miss sex. I used to think about it All. The. Time. It's one of the things that Andrew first liked about me, that I was overtly sexual and unapologetic about it. Now, I don't feel anything there. Whatever is messed up with my mental wiring, I just don't get signals from that area - no orgasm, no cue to go to the bathroom, nothing. It's one of the things that has been hardest to lose.

I don't know what normal is - I just know it ain't this.

*hugs*

Heh, thanks. A whole month old today. It's been a turbulent month, but... here's to a better second month! Amnesia, screw you!

I can imagine missing sex. I mean, I think about it constantly, it doesn't take much for me to (TMI) get off anymore - it's like my go-to fix. Not sure that's healthy, but, I'm not hurting anything. It's just that whenever I see hot guys, I act like an ass. I know it's part of the personality disorder, and need to get that in check with therapy. Anyhow, sure, I can imagine that's really hard on you, and hard on your marriage. I wish I had some solution for you, a way to rewire you so that you could partake in sex and enjoy yourself.

I wish I had a way to fix both of us, physically and mentally. Sometimes I wonder how this all happened - how people can be stricken so acutely by BOTH issues?

*hugs* There is no normal, at least not from what I've seen in 31 days. And I think I'm okay with that. I'm not some template. In fact, I kind of like being different (minus the illnesses, of course). I can't imagine myself as a 9-to-5'er, content to wear a suit and walk around with a fake smile plastered on my face. Is that life? It doesn't seem it to me. But that could be the 31 day-old person in me talking. However, that just doesn't seem happy, and shouldn't we strive for happy - especially if we're already in pain and deserve it?

*hugs*

I'm pulling for the DC and Maryland locations you came up with for your next house so I get to meet you.

You've been through a lot. I recognize the symptoms I was showing when my bursitis made it very difficult to sit. Think how that kills a lot of social interaction, not sitting.

I don't know how well you'll do with all of this, but I know you're much stronger than I'd expect to be in your situation. If we're ever in the same city, I want to wheel you around and show you what ever sights are at hand. I've got my heart set on the Roosevelt memorial.

I have great trust and belief in your strength.

Roosevelt - that's the one with the Scottie dog, right? One of my favorites. :) I've been to FDR's summer home in GA, and it is beautiful.

Right, the scottie dog with the shiny ears.

Hopefully, yes you will. If you aren't, you have damn good reason to ask for a chemical assist till you can get your emotional footing again. You have physical reasons for not doing well mentally, and past history shit can reach up and bite your ass when you least expect it. (trust me). You've managed to keep the mental uglies at bay your whole life, the physical uglies may have lessened your ability to do so. Be kind to yourself. Women may SEEM invincible, but we aren't. Friends are the people who declare "gotcher back, pookie". *hugs you good*

I tend to avoid the chemical assists (like that term!) like the plague. They kill my creativity, and not just while I'm taking them. Every time I've been on an anti-d, I've lost the ability to write for a year or so afterward.

It's a good term. They're no more than a cane or pair of crutches when you can't walk well, you know? And yeah, I understand the killing of the creativity. I told Himself at one point that if that damn doc told me ONE more time that I needed an antidepressant, I was gonna rip her face off. Funny, he found us a new doc shortly after that. ;)

What if this is your normal self?

deza, at the risk of sounding like a damaged record, I think you have endured better than most could, given your circumstances. For my money, if you don't get like this every now and again then something is wrong for sure.

I know I don't know you, and reading about your life isn't anywhere near the same as living it. But I think you're fine--the crazies get us all sooner or later. You are certainly under no obligation to those of us who do not walk in your shoes to be 'normal' again.

Just my two cents.

If this is normal, I'm scared. Really. I know I'm at a low, even for me, and it's intimidating that the only thing that keeps me from downing the nearly-full bottle of Ambien is not being quite selfish enough to hurt my kids that way. I'm pretty sure in the long run it would be a blessing for my husband, not to be burdened with me any more.

Please don't think like that. Everybody needs a hand sometimes, it's nothing you have to feel bad about. When I was going through chemo my eleven-year-old daughter had to take care of me and her two-year-old brother. It isn't something I would have wished on her either, but we all made it through. You will too.

There are reasons I think we'd be good roomies.

**hugs**

It will get better. Emotionally, if not physically.

I'm holding out for that. *hugs*

And I 'still' love you. *hugs*

*hugs*

Hon, you've been through a lot, and frankly, you're coping exceptionally well for a "normal" person. The best you can do is continue to fight the good fight because the alternative is unreasonable. It's okay to have times when everything feels wrong; it means you're still a thinking, feeling person.

Thanks. I'm just trying to get through the rough time.

Still my friend. Still love you.

I came up with the theory in High School that there is NO such thing as "normal" when it comes to people.

Besides, if having mental illness made you a bad person? I'm right there with you. Low-self esteem, social anxiety, PTSD, and whatever "Adjustment disorder" is.

*hugs* still love you.

*hugs*

It took 4 tries to type those 6 letters.

/hug

*hugs*

Hugs. Still love you a lot. You can call me anytime if you like.

Hoping Scott Pilgrim helps tonight, but I'll see if I can get over my phone phobia to do that.

I don't bite. And Scott Pilgrim was awesome.

:hugs:

Couple things:
1) usually you don't have to spend time dwelling on the suck things from the past. This time you had to, with a stranger.

2) I know a few people who qualify for SSDI from depression and PTSD. You know what? They handle a whole lot of stuff a whole lot better than I usually manage. SSDI isn't telling you you're a basket case. It's telling you that it's recognized that you're too disabled to be expected to hold down a job just now.

3) The physical things make all the mental things that much harder to cope with. Like Grail said, even a little physical disability can quite seriously mess with one's happy. I know how much just a little bit of a problem foot did to me.

i'm trying. I really am, and y'all pitching in is helping. *hugs*

I'm so sorry, darling.

*hugs hugs hugs*

*hugs*

I'm so sorry. Sending good thoughts and vibes.

All I can say is that I'm thinking of you and hoping for peace for you soon.

I have leukemia and get get disability. WTF.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only