Wednesday, June 28, 2017

The Gift of Anger

I came across something in a book I started, today - "The Gift of Anger", by Arun Gandhi.

Yep, that Gandhi.  His grandson, anyway.

He used to have anger issues, as a kid, so was sent to live with his wise, patient, loving, peace-promoting grandfather when he was 12.  He lived with him for two years, learning wisdom and lessons on life from someone who definitely knew how to teach it.

Anyway, I've just barely started.  Like, a few pages into chapter one.  haha  BUT, I've gleaned something from it, already:

"I am glad to see you can be moved to anger.  Anger is good.  I get angry all the time," he (Gandhi) confessed....

I could not believe what I was hearing.  "I have never seen you angry," I replied.

"Because I have learned to use my anger for good," he explained.  "Anger to people is like gas to the automobile - it fuels you to move forward and get to a better place.  Without it, we would not be motivated to rise to a challenge.  It is an energy that compels us to define what is just and unjust."

Anger is my biggest withdrawal symptom, these days.  I feel like a ticking time bomb.  I have had to avoid several things so I don't explode.  BUT, as I read further into this book, I'm finding the good in this experience.  I have a whole lotta bricks in my backyard that need relocating.  I think I might take advantage of my "drive" to get that done.  ha ha  Also, though, I'm using my repressed "energy" to fuel doing things around the house.  I'm controlling what I can because not being able to control what I can't will surely drive me mad if I fail to do so.

I'm finding more moments of non-anger, though.  That's a good thing.

Monday, June 26, 2017

I'm off.

I feel hesitant in posting, anymore.  I regret sharing.  All because of one person's reaction.

Things have been hard, still.  But mostly on my insides.  I feel anger towards a lot of things.  It's hard to control it, but I do.

My family and I had a family council, last night, so we could all talk about it.  I'm big on open communication.  I hate when people let things fester and go unresolved.  That's lame.  This was very helpful and I think we're going to get through this.

I wanted to make note of how my husband is doing with all of this.  He's standing by my side.  I'm pushing him, away, and he's just patiently waiting for the real me to emerge.  He tries to take over if something is starting to push me over the edge and offers to do things so I don't have to fall apart under the stress.  It's been nice.  Also, I've noticed when I loathe being touched and feel like a ticking time bomb, a hug from him actually helps.  Even the thought of being touched, right now, makes me want to punch someone, but strangely, it helps.

My daughter was avoiding me because she was afraid I would just yell at her, which would make me yell at her because I hated that she was avoiding me.  It was horrible.  But, we talked and I'm hoping we're getting past that, too.

My son was assuming that every time I yelled, it was because I was going off my meds.  I made it very clear that I still have anger rights.  If they're being idiots, yes, that will make me mad.  I told them I do have the right to be angry for legitimate reasons.

I hate this.  I hate feeling like I'm going off the deep end over dumb things.  I hate that I have to constantly keep my anger in check so I don't lose it all over people.  And, yes - I use the word "hate" quite liberally because that is EXACTLY how I feel.

Last night was the first night of not taking any of these meds.  So, it's official.  I'm off my meds, now.

I just re-read a post prior to this one, about being in control and having more power than I ever gave myself credit for.  I realize, again, that I do have a lot of inner strength.  It really is quite difficult to not beat the snot out of everything.  I feel like a three year old must feel - all these big feelings and no clue what to do with them, so I want to throw a fit.  I want to kick and scream and yell and hit and throw things and just be mad all the time.  But I don't.  I want to cry and give up and pout and sit with a blanket over my head and hide from the world.  But I don't.  I write this down because some day, when this crap is over, I'm going to want to do something big and I'm going to know I can do it because I did this.  If I can get through this, if I can get through postpartum depression, I can do anything.  I know I have it in me, because I'm seeing it, right now.  I know I have the Lord on my side.  Bring it, world.

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Damage Control

One of my more recent posts said some not-so-me things about someone I'm supposed to not say things like that, about.  Venting or not, I felt yucky about it.  So, I deleted it.  The rest of the post is still there.

This blog is about documenting my inner thoughts as I go through this trial.  It was never really meant for others to see.  I shared it because I wanted people to know why I've been flaky or overly-stressed and I got tired of having to explain myself.  I just wanted people to know.

I'm a very happy, optimistic, upbeat person.  I'm a good friend to others and love people.  I'm a good listener.  I have a strong testimony and try so very hard to be Christ-like.

Unfortunately, I'm not always so bright and shiny.  I'm flawed, just like everyone, else.  And I regret what I posted.

This is me doing my best to fix it.

The end.

**I know I said I wasn't going to let the Facebook world know when I posted things; I'm still not going to.  I just wanted to make this part of my thoughts known.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

I wanted to write about yesterday.  It was a good day.

I didn't have any anger outbursts and didn't cry over anything stupid.  I was in control and it felt pretty darn good.

I still had moments that threatened to push me over the edge, but I was able to keep it under control.  It was awesome.

I have an intense personality.  I always have.  I'm opinionated and impulsive and picky.  I'm hard to live with.  I write this down because I'm trying to remember who I was before I wasn't.  And, not being able to control my inner workings has given new light to the idea of "self-control".  I have more power over myself than I've ever given myself credit for.

I want all my days to be good.  I know crappy things are still going to happen, but I've been given the blessing of being able to see my way through those moments and living to tell the tale.

So, there it is.  A good thing.

Sunday, June 18, 2017

The Whole Picture

My last post was a bit harsh.  I was venting.

I started this blog to share with others what goes through my head.  Writing is very therapeutic for me.  But, I soon changed my mind and decided to not tell others about it.  I know some people knew, as I could see that I had readers, but I don't know who they are and don't want to know.  All I know is what I was writing was very personal and others might not understand.  Others might judge me for my words.  I didn't want that.  But I didn't want to stop, either, so I just kept it to myself.

Recently, I decided to share all of this.  I can't say I don't regret that.  In fact, after this, I'm going to stop letting people know when I post things.  If you still want to follow along, by all means.  You'll just have to find a way to follow without my lead.  Just don't judge me.  I don't sugar-coat things.  I keep it real.  This blog runs the risk of getting ugly or unpleasant or uncomfortable.  But that's just part of my story.

My last post is only about 10% of my day.  Sometimes more, mostly less.  Those moments are just intense in nature and tend to make up for lost time.  For the most part, I can control my emotions.  For the most part, I don't yell at people.  For the most part, I can keep my anger and depression and tears under wraps.  Every moment is a learning opportunity for me and those around me.  My son has learned how to diffuse a possible unnecessary argument between the two of us.  My daughter and I are learning to just walk away from each other because neither of us back down from a fight.  I am learning how to keep calm and control my voice, which effectually calms me, more.  My husband and I have a very open communication about all of this and, again, every moment is a learning opportunity for both of us.  We are working on this.  It's not easy.  It's not always hard, though, either.  My brain has been dulled by powerful mind-benders for so long, it needs a moment to regroup.  (Ok, I lied - I totally sugar-coated that last statement.)

I know what I'm doing and I know I'm doing the right thing.  I don't need others to agree.  I think I put that down there for my own benefit, mostly.  I'm starting to question my own sanity and feel like by me defending it, again only diminishes my credibility.  Which really just pisses me off.  I have been fighting more ugly thoughts in my head, but I'm learning how to keep it in.  I'm now thinking it would be better to do that, in general, anyway.  People can't handle what they don't understand.   I hate that I feel I should censure myslef in order to spare others grief.  I'm not going to.  Everyone has the choice of whether or not they read this.  I still need a place to let it out and work through it.   I'm just not going to share it so openly, anymore.

Please know my life is ok.  This blog is simply for the hard parts.  If you want the good parts, read my other blog.

Saturday, June 17, 2017

Venting, mostly.

I feel like I'm in Hell.  I hate this, so much.  My family is suffering.  They don't understand that I am, too.

My clarity is slipping.  I'm finding it hard to see that this isn't me.  I'm starting to question whether or not this IS the real me.  

I know it must be hard for my family to be supportive when they're the ones who have to deal with the ugly.  But, this isn't fair.  Not at all.  I want nothing to do with my husband, these days.  I can't stand to be touched.  I hate that he thinks he can help me feel better.  He just makes me feel worse simply by being there.  

I'm finding it so hard to fake it.  I feel like I have to work, constantly, at maintaining this facade.  I just want to go about my life without anyone directly in it.  I want them all to go away.  I hate that they see me like this, because it makes me feel like they're just going to remember their mother as some psycho.  I hate being around them because they don't understand; they don't get that this isn't the real me.  I hate having to remind them.  To me, that just diminishes my credibility.  Like the crazy person who claims they're not crazy.  Yeah, right.  That's what they all say.  And the more it's said, the less true it surely is.  

And, Heaven forbid I should actually get angry about anything.  Apparently, since I have no control over my emotions, whatsoever, me being pissed at someone for legitimate reasons is null.  Me being angry with someone for being stupid is just me being my crazy self.  Surely, I must need to go back on my meds because I got mad at someone.  Shame on me.

I'm sure I sound bitter.  I am.  Quite.  I'm angry that I have to go through this.  I'm angry that others are being affected.  I'm angry that they're being jerks about it, at times.  I'm angry that I will be remembered as a jerk, myself.  I'm angry that for so very long, I have had to defend who I am.  For years, I had to keep reminding my husband that some of the things I did were not my fault - they were a product of my mental illness.  I'm angry that I never had said mental illness, I was just being made to think I had it because of the stupid meds I was on.  

I'm just angry.  So very full of rage, angry.  I could take a baseball bat to someones car or punch my fist through a wall, kind of angry.  Angry because anger is a withdrawal symptom.  Angry because I don't even know if I have a valid reason to be angry.  

Monday, June 12, 2017


Why hide who we are? I always hate it in movies or shows when someone is obviously suffering from something that is too hard for them to carry, but they never tell anyone. They even go out of there way to hide it. That's just lame.

I've been facing this thing. My kids don't really know. They just knew I took pills for something and was a bit crazy if I missed a dose. My husband only knows what I share with him, which isn't everything.

I'm a strong person. Why wouldn't I want people to know that? I have great faith. Why wouldn't I want people to know that? I'm relentless. Why wouldn't I want people to know that?

This has been a very heavy burden. There were moments I didn't think I could go on. There were moments it was all I could do to keep from giving up, from crumbling and sinking into an abyss it would be so very hard to come back from.

Why wouldn't I want help carrying that burden?

The Lord put us on this earth to love and help each other. He can't be here; we have to be His hands to help and love others. It's through us He takes care of His children. I'm always teaching my children that. Why would I want to deny myself that very same blessing?

I recently shared this blog on Facebook.  That was a scary thing, for me.  I did not want people to see me as broken.  

Whether or not they did, was something they didn't share.  Instead, I received an overwhelming response of caring and support and encouragement and even gratitude for being brave enough to share something others face, but aren't able to share, themselves.

We do not have to face our trials, alone.  We have the Lord, yes.  But, part of having Him is having those around us.  That's how He can accomplish a lot of what He wants for us - through the hands and hearts and prayers of others.  

So, if you're reading this and you're struggling with something, tell someone.


On another note, I'm still suffering from withdrawal symptoms.  I'm off one of the meds (of the two) and I am almost done with the other one.  Mostly, I have moments of tantrum-throwing.  Something will set me off and I'll be ready for a fight.  That's been fun.  (Yeah, right.) I also cry way too easily.  I just bought some waterproof mascara.  ha   

I'm still finding amazing clarity in my thoughts, though.  I am so amazed at how dimmed my thinking was by these stupid meds.  I was dulled to certain things.  I was dulled to myself.  I certainly was losing myself, just like I had feared.  Only, I wasn't being swallowed up by some mental illness, it was the medication.  It was snuffing me out.  I almost lost myself.  Man, I do not know how people who don't know they have the Lord, do this.  

Actually, I do.  Suicide.  That horrible thought kept trying to creep into my mind.  I knew that wasn't me - I don't think that way.  There was enough of me left to know I needed to get out.  Get out of what? My brain? The grasp of whatever was pulling me down? I don't know.  I just knew it was a fight or flight situation and I was NOT going down without a fight.  It's just not in me to do, so.

So, moving forward.  

Thursday, June 8, 2017


Yesterday turned out to be a bit rough.  I know I'm doing the right thing.  I know I have to go through this to get back to who I really am.

But this sucks.

I mostly hate that not everyone knows I'm doing this.  I hate that I feel like I either have to explain myself/my behavior or suck it up and hope people don't form a negative opinion of me.  Either way, I feel like a loser.

My heart feels fragile, this morning.  I was so glad I wasn't feeling depressed; I read it was one of the withdrawal symptoms people experience.  I'm hoping it's just because I stayed up a bit too late, last night, and not a thing.  I prayed if it is a thing, that it passes, quickly, and that I can get through this without giving in to the ugly.  I'm making note of this because I want something to read, if I have to, reminding me I'm not really depressed, I'm not really a failure, people are going to think what they think but that doesn't make me who I am.  My life doesn't really suck.  Just this moment does.

I almost wish I could retreat from the world until this passes.  I've yelled at my poor kids so many times in the past few days, then had to explain how sorry I am and that it's not their fault.  I hate that I still have to go on as though nothing's wrong.  My house is a mess.  My brain is a mess.

I feel like I need to make a PSA to the people of my world - Please know I'm doing my best.  I'm sorry if I fail you or forget something or punch you in the face.  My brain is temporarily out of order.

Or maybe I can just put a sign around my neck that says, "Please Excuse the Mess".

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

Clarity. And more withdrawal.

I have been on quite a ride over the last few days.

Tears.  If I had a dollar for every time something small or seemingly insignificant made me tear up or all out cry, I'd be able to go on a small vacation.  My daughter makes fun of me.  It really is quite comical.

Irritability.  Don't tick me off.  I'll let you know you did and won't back down because I'm ready for a fight.  Bring it.

Brain buzzes.  I mentioned these in a previous post - it's like my brain is a guitar string and it's being plucked... frequently.  Mostly just weird.

Slight dizziness/loss of balance.  There have been a time or two I thought gravity was going to get the best of me.

Insomnia.  Sleep has evaded me.  I think it's passing, though, which is good.

Bizarre and memorable dreams.  I read nightmares are part of the withdrawal symptoms.  I don't usually remember my dreams with such detail, but I've been having quite vivid dreams, lately.  Not nightmares, thankfully, but I think that's made up for with the next one...

I have had this fear of some evil presence lurking in the corner of my bedroom.  It's been there, before - I've posted about it, here, which happens to be the same post I referenced, above.  I've seen faces/profiles, at night, in other parts of my house, too.  I told my husband about it.  I have a hard time being alone in the dark.  It makes me think of biblical times when the mentally deranged were thought to be possessed.  Weird.  **As I'm re-reading this post for editorial purposes, I can't help but think the adversary has something to do with this - he doesn't want me to be the true me.  He knows my strength and that I don't. back. down.  I've got the Lord on my side and good always wins.  I'm so winning this.

Craving for country music.  I grew up listening to country music because my mom loved it.  It was the music of my childhood.  My dad introduced me to Queen, The Eagles, The Beatles, Dan Fogelberg, James Taylor, etc., but country music was what we most listened to.  Why, out of nowhere, is this what I crave (seriously, crave)? Interesting.  I listen to it whenever I can, though.

Passion and clarity and the ability to choose how I deal.  I still feel clear on my thoughts.  I feel more empowered when it comes to controlling my emotions, or at least how I handle them.  I can control whether or not I give in to depression or become manic.  I am truly starting to believe that it was, in fact, the meds that were making me feel like I needed the meds.  I started taking them for postpartum depression, but I don't need them, anymore.  I haven't for a while.

Exercise and scriptures.  That's what the Lord, for years, has been telling me I need.  Those are the only meds needed to make my brain function as it should.  I am my father's daughter and my son's mother.  Knowing this has been so liberating and I couldn't be happier for the Divine inspiration I've felt in this come to Jesus moment.

Makes me all teary just thinking about it.  ha ha