That's it

If I have to spend one more minute in this house with these fucking children, someone's going to get it.

Blacklisted!

Today has been a very conflicting day. I didn't go to my group therapy like I was supposed to. When I showed up today, I was told that I had been discharged without my knowledge because I had missed two days of therapy. I was irate, not so much because of their policy, which is fairly reasonable, but because out of the three phone calls I received from the hospital yesterday, not one person mentioned the policy to me. So I told them I would be back today, and they said, "See you then" - nothing about automatic discharge. I got up this morning and hauled my ass to the hospital - an hour away - intent on getting to group on tme and working on my issues. So when I was unceremoniously kicked out of the hospital's program, I was really upset. It just seems to me that when someone is making a goof faith effort to improve her situation, it's hurtful to deny her that treatment. It seems like a direct violation of the "first do no harm" principle. But I managed to handle it really well - I didn't cry, I didn't yell, I didn't have an anxiety attack or anything. I was really pleased with my coping. I was a little... disoriented for a while. I wandered around Target for two hours, up and down every aisle. I kept putting things in my cart and then taking them back out. I finally ended up with a new winter coat. And scarf. And hat. And gloves. All of which I totally needed anyway, so no loss. I managed to talk through things with my husband, and I felt pretty good about it. We're trying to make some major life decisions right now - whether I want to make a career change (probably), when I would want to do that (now? end of the year?), whether we want to move (definitely), whether we can afford to move (of course not), where we would even move to (who knows where?), and what we can do to simplify our life for the sake of my mental health and wellbeing.

My kids are at my parents' house right now, and it's just killing me. I miss talking to the Bear. She's at a stage right now where she really gets into conversation. She asks a million questions, which is totally annoying, but really cute. She's amazingly bright, and it's so neat to watch her figure things out on her own. She's such a person now. Not a baby or a toddler. She's a little girl. And all I want to do is hold her and tell her I love her. She knows that Mommy is sick, that Mommy goes to the doctor, and that Mommy takes medicines to hep her feel better. It kills me that, at two, she knows all this already. I only hope that when (if) her turn comes, we'll be able to talk about it and get help if she needs it. There's such a strong marker for this in my family, I want her to be aware of it as she gets older. And I never want to hide my illness from her. And Mouse, I just want to squish her baby fatness, and watch her chase the cat, and hear her laugh, and see her clap her hands, and kiss her all over her face. She's such a big baby now, and after her bath, when she's just in her diaper, she's so wide and soft and smooth. It's killing me inside not to be with her. And yet, my house is remarkably peaceful right now. And maybe that's what I need to help work things out right now.

Musings

Rather than more blathering about my mental state, today I leave you with a poem (well, a fragment thereof, really) that has spoken to me in the past few days.


Oh build a special city
for everyone who wishes

to die, where
they might help one another out

and never feel ashamed
maybe make a friend,

etc.
You

who created the stars and the sea
come down, come down

in spirit, fashion
a new heart

in me, create
me again -


from "Fathers" by Franz Wright

Darkness

Today was a bad day.

I'm staring at the pills I managed to find - my husband tried to hide them, bless him, but he's not real thorough.

My coworkers have forgotten me, I have no close friends, and my family is stressful beyond compare. The new meds make me stoned all the time.

I spent the majority of my day in bed. I cried. I slept. I stared at the ceiling fan.

I can't imagine living like this for much longer. Is this all there is to look forward to?

On the other hand, I did shower and go out to vote - I'm not so far gone that I can't do my part to help the Democrats take the Senate. Maybe there is hope left for me.

Still. A bad day.

Navel-gazing

Today's goal: Deal with my anxiety without meds.*

Today is my first day of outpatient therapy. We come every day to continue the work we becan during our hospital stay. I was a little reluctant to come - I wasn't sure how much it would really help me. Everyone seems really nice and welcoming - a lot less crazy than the inpatient program. We'll see how it works out.

I called my boss and took a leave of absence from work. I told her I was going to take my 12 weeks of FMLA, but in reality I'm going to reevaluate at Christmas break. Maybe I'll go back - maybe I'll make a career change.

Today's self-reflection exercise goes like this:

1. One thing I would like others to know about me is that sometimes I put up a tough facade to cover the fact that my feelings are very easily hurt.

2. Ways my future will be different than my past - I will not direct my anger at my children, or at other innocent people. I will try to express anger at *situations* instead, and try to deal with it in a healthy, productive way.

3. My definition of morality is to act in the way that is most beneficial and least desructive to myself and others.

4. The best decision I ever made was to marry my husband.

5. My greatest fear is that nobody likes me.

6. A time in my life when I felt safe was when I lived alone in Chicago.

7. My definition of resilience is coming out of a situation stronger than when you went in.

8. A part of my past I want to put to rest is my compulsive lying from childhood, and my feelings of being an outsider after my move.

9. I am worthy of love because I try to be caring toward others.

10. Ways others are wrong about me: they think I don't care about others or about what they think of me.

11. I am not "damaged goods" because I am not a disease - I am a *person* who has a disease.

12. An alternative to self-blame and shame is learning to release negative thoughts and feelings.

13. My life isn't over yet because I need to raise my daughters to be strong, intelligent, independent women.

14. The forms of my creativity are very limited - I express them mostly through writing or baking.

15. My goals for the next 6 months to 1 year are to find satisfaction at work and to focus more on myself and making myself whole again.

16. I am not my mother; I am someone who admits my troubles, who seeks help for them, and who doesn't repress my emotions.

17. What defines who I am: I am a wife, mother, friend, avid reader, and queen of all trivial knowledge.

18. Compared to one year ago, my life is more unstable, but is on a positive trend instead of a negative trend.

19. It is my choice whether or not to forgive myself for hurting myself and my family.

20. The past does not control me because I can choose how I act and react in situations.

21. The next step after surviving is thriving.

22. I am addicted to routine.

23. One person who seems to understand me is my husband.

24. At this moment in my life, I want to learn to like myself.

25. I am allowed to make mistakes because I'm only human.

We talked a lot about false self vs. true self today, false self being the face we show to the world, and the true self being who we truly are. I made a poster contrasting the two, but I truly can't tell anymore which traits are really me and which are the ones I show to the world. I don't know who I am anymore, and that's sad to me. I wish I knew, or knew how to find out.


*Yeah. Not today. Vaunting ambition and all that, but, yeah. No.