Monday, May 29, 2017

Going back in...

I started taking Cipralex again this morning.  2.5 mg (1/4 tablet).  

I hate the startup side effects so I've been just living in my misery.  I hope the small dose and the fact that I've been on this before will make it smooth.

My last straw/deciding factor in starting up again was waking up feeling panic this morning.

Sigh.

Monday, May 22, 2017

Sad


It is sad.

Everything hurts me nowadays.  I don't know if I am invisible or just not important, but it really sucks.

Even the dog is against me.

I just can't keep up with it all.  😥

I probably should go back on my meds so I don't have to have feelings anymore.  It would make things so much easier.  However, I stopped using them because they weren't helping anyway.

I don't know what to do about that.

What I do know, is that I am so so very tired.

And I can't keep up with life.

And every new obstacle just breaks my heart.

And I don't know how to fix it.  The more I try to fix, the worse of a mess it is.  

Sad.


 

Friday, May 19, 2017

Lazy butt



I have been such a lazy butt these last two days.

Last Saturday I moved around all the furniture on the main floor.  Well, I hate it.  It has to go back to what it was.  But first we need to get rid of four pieces and find an apartment-sized sectional to replace the giant couches.  This is proving to be quite difficult.

I am so slowly chipping away at these tasks.

I am looking around the house and daydreaming about dragging everything to the dumpster and starting over.  There are three days of weekend left after today.  It could still happen.

But right now, I can hear my bed calling me for a nap before youth and connection groups start.  And I'm not one to say no to my bed.


Thursday, May 18, 2017

Yes, this


This quote says it all.  I feel every thing.  I consider every thing. It's all there...love, hurt, pride, disappointment...I hold onto it all; it piles up, and sometimes I overflow a bit.  And then people tell me what I need to do to fix myself.  

And I don't like that.

I don't like that they think I am simply broken.  A weekend project with a quick fix.  A multiple choice test with the correct answer listed right next to the c).

There has always been so much stuff in my brain.  When that got full, stuff started filling my heart.  Then it started to fill up my digestive system, then my reproductive system.  Now it is piling up in my joints.

Aching.  Everywhere.

And goblets, nowhere.

 

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Just let it go


I'm trying, I'm trying.

I have asked my family over and over for two things.

1)  Rinse your dishes.

2)  Clean up your own mess that your own self made.  Bad grammar, but I need to be specific so no one thinks I am tricking them into cleaning up after someone else.

And tonight as I stood at the sink in the kitchen washing by hand dishes that have been run through the dishwasher twice and not come clean...I was ranting. A little out loud, a lot in my head.  Two things I ask for.  Two.  No one does them.

I feel like I am the slave to a family of five.  An outcast in my own home.  Not part of the family.  

There is a show I used to watch where the matriarch realized one day that she had given all of herself away to her family, and it was time for her to do what she wanted.  So she went away, alone, on an extended art tour.  That could be me one day.  So very easily, it could be me.  

So as I scrub/rinsed the dishes and loaded them back into the dishwasher, my imagination took me on a trip, away from my house where all of me belongs to someone else and not to myself.  I smiled as I related my life to the little red hen's story, thinking about what my delicious bread will be.

And then back to reality I flew as my husband came in from symphony rehearsal. He made some noises of discomfort, mentioned that he remembered to pick up his prescription, and then left his dinner container, a sandwich bag, and all the prescription papers and bag on the kitchen counter on his way upstairs to take a bath.

After I cleaned the stuff up, I sat on the couch to watch a show with my teenager.   And why the hell not? Can't beat 'em, join 'em.

Just letting it go...letting everything go...so it can hang with the rest of the let go stuff, wherever it all goes when it is...let go...

Edit to add:  just came upstairs at midnight to finally go to bed.  Found dog's collection of crap he gathered from everyone's rooms, including a roll of toilet paper that he so kindly shredded all over the landing.

Slave to six, is what it should read above.  Not five, six.

 

Sunday, May 14, 2017

Less of me

from Pinterest  

Less of me, less of me, less of me.  A popular Christian prayer.  Less of me, more of you.  You, that is.  Capital Y You.

I used to say the whole thing.  But lately, I can't make it past less of me.  Less of me is what's happening.  Less of me, more of everyone else.  More of everything else. 'Me' has become so much 'less' that it's like there is none left. 'Me' is the reason that there could be more of anything else.  

Less of me means
Less joy
Less contentment 
Less love
Less right
Less success
Less hope
Less peace
Less.