Words can not describe what is happening inside of my heart and my mind at this very moment.
I opened every window in my house to let the sun shine in and feel the breeze. I want to see the sun, I want to feel the breeze, I want to live again. My house is clean for the first time in months, I am already starting to cook dinner for tonight. I don’t have any desire to go back to bed, or to cry. I want to call all of my friends and tell them I love them. I want to go outside and play with my dogs. I want to wash my windows, I want to clean my car, I want to organize my closets. I don’t want to live in a dark, messy house anymore. I want my house to be a home again.
It could just be added shot of caffeine I got this morning, but something tells me things are getting better and I couldn’t be happier.
Monthly Archives: April 2003
Therapy, Day One
I started my “regroup” therapy today.
Hmmm, I don’t even know where to start, I need to process it all.
I’ll start by saying there are some preeeeeeeeetty interesting people in there. I admit, it is a comforting feeling to know you’re not alone. However, I did find myself wondering “how the hell did I end up here?”
I will be off of work for the next 3 weeks, and that is a good thing. I need some time away from that place and some of those people.
The best part of the experience was when a man I met there, I believe his name was Allen, showed me the dance he used to do “back in the day” and told me the story of how he used to do that dance all the time before he became severely depressed and he hopes one day he’ll be able to do it again “and mean it.” It was touching, and very cute, made me smile.
My gut feeling is that this is going to be a good thing for me.
Whatever it takes.
Sometimes I can’t control this urge to hurt myself. It’s like all the rage inside has to come out somehow. Today my husand caught me digging my fingernails into my legs, I have marks all over my leg. He gets very upset, not angry, but he doesn’t know what to do. He told me to try to control myself, but I told him he doesn’t understand. I don’t want to be this way, but I can’t fight it when I feel that way.
Tomorrow I start 3 weeks of some sort of outpatient therapy. It seems pretty intense, I have to go for 3 hours, 3 days a week. I can’t imagine what the hell we’re going to be doing for 3 hours each of those days, but I’m willing to try anything at this point. Perhaps being around others who feel the way I do will be helpful.
My psychiatrist feels this is something I really need at this time. He says I “obviously have self esteem issues if I’m beating myself in the head” No? Really? You think? Sigh…
I know I’m not the only one who fights these demons, so a small part of me is looking forward to being around others who can relate, another part of me is scared, but I try not to let fear stop me from doing things. I refuse to let fear rule my life. I tell myself it’s ok to be nervous and scared, but it’s something I have to do. I want to figure this all out and move on, you know? And if this is what I have to do, I’ll do it.
Boobs
We’re all sitting in the family room watching America’s Funniest Home Videos. There was a clip of a little boy taking the bra off of a mannequin. My boys went crazy, they screamed and were laughing so hard they couldn’t breathe.
After they finished laughing, I asked them “why do boys like boobies so much?”
Ethan (HE’S FIVE) says “because they’re just so sexxxxay.”
*laugh*
Andrew: Because they’re so big.
Ethan: Big and juicy.
Andrew: hahahahhaha
Ethan: Oh yeah and don’t forget because they’re so jiggly.
We were laughing so hard, then I farted and they all stopped laughing and told me that I was so gross.
Excuse me, *I’m* gross? you guys are the ones talking about jiggly, juicy boobs.
You’re all I ever wanted.
I have a secret.
A secret that is dying to be revealed because it hurts too much to hold it inside.
I toss and turn at night wondering what people would think of me if they knew this secret. I think people would hate me, hate me and laugh at me.
I am ashamed, yet at the same time I’m not. I can’t help how I feel.
I have to let it out before it kills me, I can’t hold it in anymore.
I looooooooooves me some N’Sync. Do you know how bad I want them to release a new record? I listen to their cd’s, even when my boys aren’t home. I know the dance moves to “bye bye bye”. I don’t care what you think. They can sing and they can dance.
Shattered dreams
I am always looking for the easy way out of things. I’m not proud of it, but it’s the damn truth. This character flaw of mine makes me a total sucker for infomercial products.
Imagine my excitement when I heard these words late one night while feeling sad about having gained weight WHILE eating chips and dip.
“Get The Body You’ve Always Wanted In Just 6 Minutes Of daily Workout!”
I put down the chips and dip, got out a pen and paper and grabbed the cordless phone.
I saw the device.
“This can’t be for real.” I thought. “That looks wayyyyy too easy. It can’t be true!” I continued to watch. They showed this hot chick with this piece of rubber in her hand, bouncing it up and down. It was working every muscle in her body. They even went into sssssllllooowww mmmmootttttiioooonnn so you could see how every muscle was being worked!
“I CAN DO THAT! I MUST HAVE THAT!”
I ordered it for the great price of JUST $100! (Or! Just 5 payments of $19.99! Plus tax and shipping!)
That’s right, a hundred bucks, but hey! Look at that chick! A body like that is worth $100.00 and SIX MINUTES A DAY.
I got it a few days later and opened the box up, all excited because in just SIX MINUTES A DAY for the next few weeks, I was going to look so good!
When the package arrived, I opened the box full of hope. All I had to do was flap that thing up and down–side to side and I would have the body of my dreams! But then, I actually held that piece of rubber in my hands and attempted to do it just like the hot girls and the buff dudes in the commercial.
Um…that shit was hard. And not hard in the way that a good workout should be. It wasn’t as simple and moving that piece of rubber back and forth, there were actual things involved that required a bit of skill. Things like “rhythm” and “not feeling like an asshole while working up to said rhythm because ha ha, am I really trying to get a sweet body by holding a giant piece of rubber in my hands?
I would alternate between fits of laughter (HAHAHAHA LOOK AT ME TRYING TO SHAKE A GIANT RUBBER STICK!), shame (I’M WORKING OUT WITH A GIANT RUBBER STICK.) and anger (DID I REALLY JUST SPENT ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS ON THIS GIANT RUBBER STICK?)
Needless to say, it didn’t work and that box is collecting dust in the garage along with my hopes and dreams of perfectly chiseled abs in just six minutes a day!
Not Normal
I was talking to my mom on the phone right now and I played her the recording of my dogs. She laughed and then said “no wonder you’re mental, that would make anyone crazy.”
I laughed at first, but as I sit here and think about it, it makes me sick to my stomach.
“no wonder you’re mental“…
Words can not describe what I am feeling at this very moment. She didn’t mean it as a put down, she was joking, but it’s the truth.
I never in my life thought I would end up “this way.” I never thought people would think of me as crazy or a “god damn psycho.” I always thought of myself as an outgoing person that people liked, because I have the ability to make people laugh, but now I feel as though I’m “ruined.”
All I ever wanted was to be loved and accepted, isn’t that what we all want? I never wanted to be this overweight, crazy lady who cries and sleeps all day and doesn’t want to go anywhere because I feel like some kind of monster. I never wanted to avoid my friends and family, not answering my phone or going places because I am ashamed at who I have become.
This is not the kind of person I wanted to be.
I am getting better, I am getting help and doing what I need to do to snap out of this. This isn’t me whining or wanting sympathy, it’s just those words my mom said sinking in and me realizing the magnitude of what has happened to me over the last few months.
Unbelievable.
Don’t ever judge people who are going through this kind of shit, and most certainly don’t ever say it could never happen to you, because you never know when life is going to take it’s toll on your heart, and when you’re heart isn’t right, neither is your mind, I’m living proof of that.
What the world needs now is to actually see me throw a burrito up against the wall because then you will laugh and not worry about the fact that starving children could have ate it. a sense of humor.
My appointment went well. I won’t go into detail, but it went well.
And for those of you who got all upset about the burrito incident, like Oprah says, don’t you realize it’s not about the damn burrito?? It’s about not being heard, it’s about the fact that after 12 years of being married the man doesn’t know how I like my burrito. And as for me going and getting it myself, I do but you see, I come home from work every night and cook a meal for him, so I don’t feel bad about sending him to get me a burrito or curly fries every once in a while. Apparently not everyone thinks me throwing a burrito against the wall is funny, sheesh, lighten up people, even the man laughs about it now.
*(thanks for the pic, Robyn)
terrified
I am on my way to my first appointment with a new psychiatrist.
I am nervous, and feel like I’m going to puke.
I hope this goes better then the first time. I swear, if he pisses me off the way the other man did, I will walk out this time and I will give him the finger on the way out the door, I’m not in the mood today.
Wish me luck, I’ll need it.
I know, I shouldn’t be eating them anyway, but that’s not the issue.
After 12 years of marriage, you’d think my man would get my fast food orders correct.
Ok, so I have issues with food. I am a psycho when it comes to food. I won’t eat the food he brings home if he didn’t get it exactly like I ordered. Example… One time he went to get burritos, I said “chicken burrito, no lettuce, no onions” (why I’d have to say this in the first place I have no idea seeing that he KNOWS I DON’T LIKE LETTUCE NOR ONIONS ON MY BURRITOS but that’s besides the point, really) So he brings home the burrito. SURPRISE! It has lettuce and onions. I look at him and, no lie, he hits his forehead and says, “sorry, I forgot to tell them no onions or lettuce.” I am pissed, I’m like “what the fuck? You know I don’t like onions! I TOLD you specifically to tell them no onions or lettuce and you still forgot?, I’M NOT EATING THIS FUCKING BURRITO, I’D RATHER STARVE THEN EAT A BURRITO WITH LETTUCE AND ONIONS!” Then I took the burrito and chucked it across the room, it splattered on the wall and slid down.
I told you…psyyyyyycho.
I’ve made no secret of the fact I love curly fries WITH RANCH DRESSING. So when I asked for curly fries with ranch dressing, you’d think he’d come home with curly fries and ranch dressing, right? Wrong. Curly fries, no ranch. He “forgot.” How the hell do you forget that? So, in protest, I threw them in the trash.
I could tell you story after story of the rage I get when I don’t get just what I wanted when it comes to food. (like the time he brought home the wrong flavored frozen yogurt and I squished the foam container with my hands and yogurt oozed all over my hands down my arms, an incident my sister refers to as “squish the foam”. I guess it’s because my whole life (until now, of course) I have deprived myself of so much junk food and things that I love to stay thin that when I do decide to splurge, I want it right. And then there’s the whole “you’ve been married to me long enough to know what the fuck I want” thing. I mean, how the hell does he forget to ask for ranch dressing with my curly fries?
Ok, I feel better now. Much better.
*thinks of digging fries out of the trash*