"Circling the Drain"

Most of us know the phrase "Circling the Drain" in reference to death.  I'm not talking about death. I'm thinking of it more like an emotional black hole. 

At the edge, the pull is not so great.  You can fight against the eddy and sometimes break free or at least slow the descent into each tier of increasing pull.  But at some point, your thin tether to happy thoughts, the frail rope of hope can break.  That is when you consciously or unconsciously choose to plunge into the darkness.

Once in the darkness, it's like the eye of the storm.  There is nothing to fight against and you just let everything fall apart.  You drop your pleasantries, your positivity, your hope and let that darkness overtake you. You are no longer fighting or straining.  You stop and collapse into a heap. 

Then the anger, the depression, the fears lash out like tendrils  and hurt the ones closest to you.  Once it comes out, you have no control and hurt those who are trying to love you. 

Looking at the mess left after the emotional storm has passed, you have a lot of clean up. So many apologies, so much to put back together or discard.   You've climbed out of that black hole and see your life broken, your world in chaos and you want to just exist in a bubble.  Every sound, light, touch is too much.  But you want people near.  You need people. The same ones you unleashed your emotional flood onto.  You feel depression and loneliness creep back in. It can be a terrible cycle.

So how can I recover?  

I have to choose to make changes, even when it's hard.  I have to make a plan and work on the areas I've been lacking in.  I have to communicate with my support network because I know I can't do it on my own. I have to remember this darkness so I can talk about it and find a better way the next time it comes.  

Living is more than going through the motions.

Right now I am in a huge struggle.  My life has taken some amazing turns and I am so proud of the person I am becoming.  I now have a good job at a wonderful company.  I love working for Womenspace inc.  I am relief staff for the safe house and I've really enjoyed learning and helping people.  

I am still living at my dad's house and that is stressful because I know he doesn't want me here.  It could end at any given time. People don't understand the stress I have coming out of my room, looking to see if there is a note telling me I'm not doing enough and it's time to move in just a few days.

And here's the rub.  I owe old complexes through the loss of roommates.  No one here will rent to me with that on my credit report.  I have found a few places I could afford if only I had the other places paid off.  So I am participating in the St Vincent de Paul Renter's Rehabilitation program.  It is a massive amount of work for anyone, especially a disabled person and you have to pay to take it.  I am to get my credit reports from all agencies, find out if there are any evictions in my names, find out what I owe to places and make arrangements to pay.  They want a budget and income info as well as short term and long term goals. I find it invasive and extremely difficult to comprehend.  

I have so many agencies and doctors I am supposed to meet with, I feel like I will never be able to accomplish anything.  I have work and I'm expected to spend time with my family, form friendships and renew contact with friends, take care of my health, eat and sleep on regular schedules, avoid the 20 things I'm allergic or intolerant of, remember my medications, save for moving, save for clothing, save for car repairs, pay my bills on time and generally be a functioning adult.  I have obstacles, like most people.  But with the excessive emotions, lots of pressure from myself and others and chronic illnesses, I feel like I have a little more against me than others.

I learned something about perfectionism.  That it can lead to self-defeating behavior, procrastination and giving up before starting.  Seems familiar in the way I think and act, though it's not a conscious giving up but a feeling that nothing is ever good enough.  I am the daughter of a brilliant man. The sibling of a smart, talented sister and a amazing, caring, smart, athletic brother.  When my mom and little brother were alive, I felt I had them. I felt they understood me a little.  And even though my sister wants to be in my life, she can be too much at times.

I know, suck it up.  Life isn't fair.  God won't give you more than you can handle... I know all those sayings.  I have all the skills and knowledge in my head.  But putting it into practice is where I fail so often.  Knowing what to do and say in a situation is one thing.  Actually doing and saying those things in a situation is a completely different beast.  Now I'm probably rambling.  But this is all stuffed into my head and my emotions are shut down at this point so I don't go into a full blown panic.  

I just need a little more.  Not much but more.

Full Circle

    I haven't written in a long time in my blog. Frankly, I forgot about it after I got so busy.  Now, I find myself in need of a place to just write and that is what I am doing.

    It's been two years since I returned to Oregon.  I am living at my Dad's house and helping him and Sheila when his heath is poor.  I am also working on getting my life together.

    After a year or so of working with my dear friend Barbi, I am now in therapy and DBT skills group.  DBT (Dialectic Behavior Therapy) is the only approved and proven treatment for borderline personality disorder. Along with this, I have a new primary care provider. My doctor is a Naturopathic Physician and has been working to treat a slew of food allergies and intollerences as well as my other illnesses.  It has been frustrating to say the least and expensive but I do feel like progress is being made.  I am also attempting to find a place of my own but I realized that I need to return to work, at least part time, in order to afford housing that does not rely on a roommate.  Since roommates leaving have been the primary reason for me moving so often, I am determined not to depend on anyone for my housing. I am working with Vocational Rehabilitation Services and buying a car from my dad in an effort to get back into the world and become more independent.

    As I venture to live life and no longer just survive, there have been losses and stressors. My infant cousin was murdered. My father was hospitalized with a stomach bleed.  My health has been up and down and there has been loneliness. Surrounded by people yet still lonely.

    My health... Where to start... Diabetes type 2, have a full top denture and partial bottom, tested positive for Epstein Barr. I have Hashitmotos. Protein deficiency. Immune flare ups from cat scratch fever. Food aversion. Chronic fatigue. Food allergies that would make a vegan cry as well as my other health issues.  It's a lot. and it's hard to deal with but I am getting there.

    18 years ago, I left Oregon.  So much has happened. So much has changed and so much of who I am is different.  But now I am back and this woman is ready to live.

Living Apart

I have been living in Georgia since the 10th of November. I have a broken heart and a shattered brain.  Nothing makes much sense to me. But the saving grace that makes this mess a little more tolerable is being allowed to talk and email Sabine.

Not to discount my friends and family who have been wonderful. I just am incomplete without my soul mate.  It's more that a title or a pet name. It is the absolute truth. I cannot live without my hearts companion.

So we live apart. In touch but without touching.  It is hard and lonely and so very sad at times.  But we live.  We have each other to talk to and that is how things must be.

Torn from Your Flesh

We've all experienced it.  It hurts and stings.  The feeling of having a band aid ripped from your skin when it's on a hairy area or stuck to the wound is like no other.  Now, imagine that band aid on your heart.

The concept of a soul-mate means marriage for many people.  I like to think of a soul-mate as the one who is your perfect match, no matter the gender.  They could be your marriage partner or the very closest friend who is like your own flesh.  Both the Bible (King David and Saul's son Jonathan) and "The Epic of Gilgamesh"  (King Gilgamesh and Enkidu the wild man) contain stories of people who were loved above the love of a woman and loved like the person's very own flesh.  In both these stories, the loved one was lost and the remaining person was grieved to his soul.  Death had ripped their soul-mates from their flesh.

I have experienced much loss in my life.  Friends, family and beloved pets have succumbed to death while I was helpless to do anything about it.  But all of those losses combined, each worse than the last, were nothing compared to what my heart endures now.

A moment of insanity. The spark of anger.  The stubborn, head strong act of rebellion.  All could have been avoided if I had just listened and gotten my medication on time.  Now, I pay the price.  The cost is the loss of my hearts' companion, my missing piece, my soul-mate.  Not only is my heart broken, it is crushed.  I feel the sting of the ripping away of one who was as my own flesh.  There is a raw, open wound and I am in agony with each breath. 

I'm not being overly dramatic either.  I am just saying how I feel and what is going on in my mind and my heart.  And with this I give a warning.  Always get help before it's too late.  Before you lose more than your ever thought possible.  Never let anger or sin or anything blind you to the fact that you need help.  Maybe then you can avoid this kind of pain.

A Nomad in the Desert

    I always knew that I would be home where ever I was but I never knew home could feel so desolate.  I love the desert wildlife and the cacti blooming in after a rain.  I love the variety of birds and lizards.  But I never knew you could have a home and still feel homeless.

    Some of this has to do with life events that have caused me to move twice within the past year.  Now I find myself needing to move again.  Not a desperate push out the door but needing to get a place all the same.  I feel like every time I start to get comfortable and think I've finally found home, I have to pick up and go out again. 

    Each time is harder than the last.  East time I lose more of my stuff, more memories and more people I have grown to love.  I feel like I will be a nomad for the rest of my days.  I will never belong or fit in.  It is how it has always been in my heart but now my life reflects that.

'pressed

Today is not a good day for me. I am feeling really down and like no one really cares. I have all these friends on my facebook and they are people I know in real life, yet I hear no replies to my messages. It makes me feel even worse than I already do. It is not a great place to be in.

Maybe it's just a seasonal thing. Or maybe it's the poor sleep pattern. I'm not sure. But right now I miss my friends.

I love so easily and care so deeply for people. I think of nearly everyone I was close to at one time and i long for that closeness and friendship to be there again. But people get married, have kids, lose touch and sometimes there are issues that cannot be overcome. That doesn't mean my care for them is gone. But they move on and I am stuck in the past.

I hate this disease! It makes it so difficult to be happy. It makes it so easy to fall into the hole I clawed my way out of.

I am sure this will pass, just as it always does. But I am not feeling great right now. I am sad and lonely and a little angry that I give so much and do no seem to get much in return.