Downhill and so fucking close

couldn't even describe just how downhill life has gone.  but i suppose someone always has it worse.
Tonight I have sunk to a new low.
I am scared.
I'm internet searching to find the best cocktail of prescription drugs to od on.
I know that fantasizing about suicide is one of the last steps.  I was down this road 20 years ago.
I didn't write a note, at least not one that was addressed to anyone, and it didn't even make sense, it was more like an awfully written poem.
I am completely sober (which is even scarier) and can't blame this one anyone else or anything but me.
So now what?
I laid in bed tonight, my son feel asleep on his blankie on my floor so I piled on my bed between my husband and i.
I started crying.  Just thinking how much my husband hates me.  How not even a hug or kiss or snuggle or even whispered good night to me before he went to sleep.

Then looking at my angel boy who reach out in his sleep to just cuddle me.

I cried, and I cried hard

love is obvious when you see it.  And obvious when it is absent.

i cried for hours.

I tried writing, and well that didn't work.  I tried to sleep and just concentrate on the love my kids had for me.

that didn't work either.

I kept crying.  My husband kept sleeping.  i just wanted him to reach out to me.  anything just a small hand holding or something.

he laid there, he would deny it but I know he heard me trying hold back sniffles.  Because when I left the room because I was being too loud, he got up to shut off the light in the hallway behind me.
Cold.
I went back to bed, and looked at my son, (who again reaches out to me just to hold on to)  And then I thought how perfect it would be to fall asleep and never wake up, right there, looking at his angel face and knowing that there is some beauty in this world.
that made me cry harder, as the imagine of my girls waking up to a dead mommy completely sent me overboard.

So I scribble out my final babble. pulled all of my prescriptions out of the cabinet, and came here to find the perfect mix.

I know I wont do it tonight.  It's too late/or early in the morning.  It's something I would do when I go to bed, to make sure I get all the pills in my system for a long time before anyone notices.

I really don't want to die.  but I can't stop this pain.  Ive been in therapy for 4 years.  I get it.  I can't be fixed. I'm tired and I want to move on.  its my kids and my fear of death that are holding me back.  at this point i felt that fear of dying lessen a little bit.  And that scares me.

Another fucked up thought. I actually want another baby, and the thought that I won't have another one breaks my heart.  I know rationally that I am in no condition mentally to have another child.  However, it doesn't stop me from wanting one.  And it doesn't stop the hurt of knowing that won't happen.
Great more tears.
I'm going to go back to bed.  I'm satisfied that I have enough to od.  I have a dosage and mix in mind to slow down my breathing.
So now it is a waiting came.  Let's see if I can try and pull myself out of this messed up mental state before I go to the next step.  And that is a plan.

what a crazy week

talk about a roller coaster....
Last weekend we put a deposit on a puppy, and this evening I visited my puppy.  3 more weeks till we get our big ball of fur.  I feel good.  Prior to last weekend, I continued down the path of depression, I was very solemn, morose, even indifferent.
I read back my posts, as if there is a secret answer there, that will give me the key to get rid of this "cloud" forever. I can only surmise, that I am fragile.  It takes so little for me to be pleased, and so little for me to cry.  I'm not bi-polar or manic...I would think that someone that can go back and forth like I do, would be diagnosed as such.  But my moods are subtle, my face of happiness, is only slightly different than my mask of sorrow. Those who know me, can tell the difference.  I internalize everything, even these mood swings.  Someone who suffers from bi-polar disorder (or manic depression) would exhibit 180 degree emotions in a short period of time, responds like a time bomb, and has great emotion (one way or the other).  At least that is my knowledge/experience with bipolar individuals.  Me, When I am  in a social setting, (work, shopping, friends...) I am bubbly and full of spirit.  Regardless of my depression, at home, I will still smile, and appear pleased, even excited and interested..but all of this is a cover.
However, this week, this week I can say with confidence that there is a true happiness in my life.  I am very pleased with my excitement and hope and dream of my new puppy.  I love having something to look forward too.  And I believe I will be even more thrilled to have my handsome furball here in my home.
So while I am in good spirits, let me thank you for thanking the time to read this blog.  This is a form of therapy for me, a way to externalize my feelings....

Another sleepless night

I lay here, as I do most nights, restless and tired, but unable to sleep.  I'd take something to help me sleep but somehow my prescription ran out, a week before my doc appoint, (sigh) I'd like to know how that happen.

regardless, i sense something is not right, not necessarily with me (lord knows i could find a million things about myself that is not right).  but something really not right, almost like the faith smell of death is lingering around my home.  I am not psychotic, nor do i halleucinate...i don't think demons are coming to get me, or indulge in any weird out-of-my-mind scenarios like that.  it's like that feeling, moms know this feeling well, like when your child is just sick, you just know.  It's instinct or your "gut", telling you something.   I don't believe that my "gut" is any way related to predicting the future or some other crazy irrational idea.   But I do feel that something is off, almost like something horrible will happen.  And yet, I'm not anxious about it, or worried.  i'm curious.  of all things to be, i'm just curious.
oh and get this...what is adding to my morbid curiousity, is that i also feel as if i know something.  like i can't remember what it is, or a memory that is unclear.   i feel as if i know exactly what this creepy shadowy feeling is all about. this is probably the 4th night in the past two weeks that i have felt this. I've tried to ignore it before tonight.   i'm going to move onto happier thoughts.  the lingering shadow discussion isn't going to have an answer, its not a puzzle, looking to be solve, its just a circumstance.


I'll think about tomorrow, about doing something special with the kids.  :) this is a big deal, for me, as with a mental illness such as mine, thinking about the future, even the next day, doesn't happen that often.  (unless of course its anxiety related).

I think i will hold onto this happy thought for as long as i can.  its is wonderful to feel something, my kids always know how to bring a smile to my face.

Protection

The anxiety has become a frequent obstacle for me.  For a few months, even about 1/2 a year, I think the medication has had it under control, panic attacks were less frequent and severe, the general worry that shadowed me, and incessant walking on eggshells feeling, has diminished.

Yet for the last week - week and a half...my mind has started to fall back into that pattern.  I feel myself subconsciously forgetting to breathe, and finally gasping as if breathing through a straw, the tingling in my fingertips, and when its at its worst, the tingling in my face as the blood drains from my head making me dizzy.  Lately, I have been building up my walls of defense, brick by brick, I shelter the fragile child from the outside world.  Your words are the glue or mortar that holds my bricks firmly.

I feel desperate, yet I am not sure why.  I blink back tears, so my children won't see.  and I rarely speak to my husband for fear of rejection or criticism.  Then comes the nausea, like a lump in the back of your throat were you can't swallow past it.  recently the nausea has become so physical, that I find myself hanging over the kitchen sink gagging.  

My newest drama, is the "cringe".  I actually find myself tensing up and holding my breathe whenever my husband opens the bedroom door to speak to me, or enters a room and says my name in that monotone parent scolding voice.  Internally I cry and beg and plead, please no more hurt, please, don't tell me what I have done wrong, or impose a new rule on me that I must follow and remember.  Please don't tell me disappointing news, or something else that will make be worry.  Don't ask me questions that you won't listen to the answers, I hate that.  And please don't give me another chore to do, I'm not going to do it right so why bother.

But outside, my response is "yes" and "ok", and I give you that blank stare as if I am listening to your every word.  When really, I'm just trying to swallow the lump in my throat or get the feeling back in my hands.

When I was younger I remember these same motions and habits.  I remember standing there, in front of the firing squad being yelled yet.  And the same blank stare, the same nods of agreement, when inside -  my brain was sounding the alarm, Like a castle pulling up their drawbridge, and archers lining the walls... my mind falls into protection mode. It shuts down my emotions, piece by piece, protecting the frail child from pain.

Each time I go "under", a small piece of me doesn't come back.  You see, depression is not always about sobbing everyday, and moping and feeling sorry for yourself.  The deepest depression is the loniliness.  Where your true self, is so far locked away from the world, so deep inside, that no one can get to you.

humiliation

to feel humiliated, is self imposed.  You see, you can't be humiliated, unless you have preconceived notions about social norms, and personal expectations.  You also have to care on some level to experience it.  so if you can feel humiliated, you know that you are not yet at the bottom because you give a rats ass about something.  I believe that once you feel nothing, then that is the bottom, and the risk you off yourself is the greatest.

Today I was humiliated in public, by my wonderful husband.  Thank you.   The best is that when he asked me why i was "silent" and I stated " you humiliated me in that store.  His response was "I didn't humiliate you"  Thank you again, because now you can control or at least attempt to state how it is I feel.

God I love this, I never have to think because he does it for me.

I tried

but couldn't put the words down....had so many thoughts - tried to type and then....I don't know so sorry

Why?

Sometimes I wonder why this life was chosen for me, why my set of circumstances, why the reality of each morning I face.  I try to think logically - well I make my own choices, isn't that what God gave us all, a choice? But the harsh truth of it is that no one controls the outcomes, that is where I have failed.  The most anyone can hope to do is to increase the odds of success in our favor.

What is buried deep inside is a hurt child, unable to make herself small enough to disappear.  For those of you have at one time or another, heard their parents fight when they were young.  If you were lucky enough your parents fought after they believed you were sleeping.  And there you would lay, listening to their words, as you held your head on your blankets, praying that you wouldn't be caught listening, praying that they would stop.

I spent most of my life with my head under my covers.  The most horrible things I would hear them say, and I wish I could shut so many of those words out.  My stepfather was the worst of them all.  Again - they always believed that I was sleeping, but I heard way too much.  I heard that I was a slut and a whore, and should probably start "serving men" to start paying the bills.  (let's just say servicing men was not the term that was used).  How I was a manipulative B^tch and how my mother better take care of me, give me a good whooping or he would.

I was about 13.

I recall some of my offenses, not taking dinner out of the freezer for the 100th time, coming in the house to see my stepfather passed out with his penis in full view, oh yes the time when I came home 20 minutes passed my curfew.  (I believe that was one of the times  I was told I was a whore).  I stayed a virgin for a very long time, terrified to have sex, and I never wanted to be one.

This is the first time, I have ever spoke of these events.   I don't know if I feel better, but I can say, that this is not the worst of my memories. (close but not the worst).

So yes, I spent much time, hiding under the covers, hoping that my mom would stick up for me, hoping that they wouldn't come in and yank me out of bed, or wouldn't make up some crazy punishment to enforce on me the next day.  Usually something to humiliate me.  It was nights like these that I prayed God would take my breathe....and I always wondered, why me?