Love is …

Love is chit chatting over a favorite restaurant meal.

Love is agonizing over which scrabble word to play … when you have all vowels … and your partner waits patiently because it’s time well spent.

Love is sharing a bowl of jelly belly beans and picking the most awesome flavors (In my opinion, juicy pear and tutti fruiti.)

Love is trusting another person well enough to know they’ll be honest with you … even if it’s something you don’t want to hear. Love is also respecting the person in return to ask how they are processing that information.

Love is being quiet. Love is time.

Love is taking time to watch a movie.

Love is changing your mind to instead sit on the couch next to your friend and elbow them during the funny parts of said movie.

Love isn’t about gift giving, but the thought behind the gift … like a giant bottle of fish oil capsules given to coat the neurotransmitters in the brain in hopes that maybe I won’t feel as sad and can concentrate a little easier.

Love isn’t about giving a hoodie … but man, do I like when I get one. (Let’s be honest.) It’s like a hug all the time because it smells familiar.

…

I have been in a state of isolation the last week, aside from my time at work. It has pained me and scared me because the longer I go without a hug or a smile or a chat from a friend, I grow uncomfortably comfortable. The thoughts brew. I believe lies. I stare at my broken razor. I sleep. I sit in the dark. I eat junk food out of boredom and depression. I don’t eat. I don’t go out of the house. Life becomes a waste.

… It broke today. I made myself do errands. I spent time with a friend … much needed time, as documented above.

Tomorrow, I have a dentist appointment to get a cavity fixed. It will get me out of the house. Maybe I will end up at church after. Maybe I will go home with intent to isolate … or maybe just to rest or study. Maybe …

Maybe I can’t worry about every day and what failures or victories it may bring. Maybe that’s the most destructive behavior of them all, and the one I am most excellent at.

Can I just be?

I am home now. I am home now writing this … not hiding, but sharing … and letting myself be loved today.

Want.

I had a beautiful weekend with some very sweet friends. It was about 5 months ago my friend and I planned to go camping … to see it actually come to pass helped me gain a little sense of importance and confidence. Friends were invited but no one could give us an answer right away so I started feeling insecure and less valued. (Which is crap, yes … but I felt it.) It’s just a lie that I so easily fall into. Even writing this right now, it’s hard to convince myself into believing it’s a lie. I looked forward to this last weekend because it was “a plan” … 5 months in the making … looking forward to it was safe because it was so far away and I told myself in my head, that if it doesn’t work out, it’s okay because it’s 5 months away and things change in that time. But it did work out and it went by way too fast. I had bouts of anxiety … and tears … and realizations that the more time I spend with friends, the less content I am in everyday life. I voiced a very real, intense fear that this last weekend will be one of the last times I see my friends. It’s not just “seeing” though, it’s spending time with, talking, going to church functions, going to counseling … all of which I won’t have … all of which has helped keep my thoughts and addiction to self harm in check. I am so terrified of disappearing. I am afraid that I will pass up the few chances I might get to see a friend just because of sheer exhaustion from working 7 days a week. I am afraid that regret and isolation will lead me to relapse and fall hardcore. I am torn because I want to spend time with my friends 24-7 until October 7th (which is when my externship starts), but I also feel the need to slowly begin to close myself off and back off pre-emptively so maybe it won’t be so hard. Logically I know, and they tell me … “this is only temporary.” I tell myself that. I try so hard to hold onto that truth and claim my strength, but historically, I am extreme … and I know this will wear on me very, very quickly. I don’t want anyone to forget I am out there … I am scared … I am more scared than I have been with anything regarding my schooling, even when I went back to take my surgical assisting and anesthesiology classes. (And that was a doozy.)

The tears are flowing now. I need to calm my heart. I need a hug. And I so desperately need to stay connected and I need the people in my world to want to connect with me not just during my absence, but now to … even though I might push you away slightly.

sleep and apathy.

sleep …

it’s all i think about anymore … i crave it. i think about napping … i put my head down and can feel myself slipping away … but only briefly. i am tired. my energy … is limited. i go out to places and the surroundings overwhelm … exhaust me. my brain feels empty … my eyelids threaten to flutter shut when i’m driving …

i came home after bible study this morning … i felt content leaving. i was going to come home and study and take a nap … i am awake. i never took a nap … somehow, that’s just out of reach. i cancelled counseling … last week i was agitated about the appointment being cancelled and i needed my appointment badly. looking back, i don’t remember much from last week … i feel like i black out and am still awake … disoriented but awake. zombified. i am content … am i? am i contently depressed? am i depressed at all? i think i am just tired …

i managed to finish my research paper and presentation for thursday. i have finals next week … new classes start on April 1st. more classes … starting at the beginning … so close and yet, so far. i should be studying for a quiz tomorrow … should be studying how take radiographs of a fetlock … so when i go to the field trip site tomorrow, i don’t get kicked in the face. maybe then i’d sleep …

apathy suits me. it’s too exhausting to feel anything else. temptation to harm has been high … but i won’t get anything from it. i can’t be bothered …

i still don’t think i’m depressed. i’m not anxious. i’m tired of reaching … all i want is to sleep. is that so wrong?

 

crash

it’s not surprising that i seem to be plummeting mood wise … i had a small victory over the weekend … it’s not surprising that i will feel spiritually attacked …

i feel myself slipping into isolation … i don’t want to. i want to be close with my friends … i want to love them and be loved and be with them …

i am trying to make a plan for thursday before i slip too far … class in the morning …

i need to be with someone.

friday i will have completely free to, cause dad was scheduled to have his surgery  for his arm … which they cancelled … again. So, now I have a day off with nothing to do …

i need to stay busy. thoughts of cutting already coming back … i don’t want it …

i didn’t have counseling today either which probably has affected my mood a bit … i did however get my MMPI test scheduled for next tuesday at 2 … directly after my counseling appointment i’ll have. i’ve done the test years ago but i’m sure my results will be different … it takes approximately 2 hours to complete. i’m not really excited or nervous for it … all i have to do is be honest and consistent with my answers … i’ll learn more about myself i guess but i’m not sure i want to in that way …

i’ve been thinking about mom alot these days. i wonder how much longer i should wait to call her … or to see if she’ll contact me. i wonder how my grandma is doing in the nursing home that i drive past everyday. we’ve never had a relationship however … she is my mom’s mom … and neither are healthy. grandma helen probably wouldn’t even know who i was … i think if i visited her, it would affect me negatively … still i wonder …

otherwise, today was alright … went by fast … i went to bible study this morning. we are reading in hebrews. i have a difficult time staying in the present and find myself slipping. i offered to read the verses today … i was proud of myself for doing that … i’m glad i got through them. i found myself zoning out as i was reading … but i did good i was told. i felt shaky and short of breath when i was done but i’m glad i got through them.

i also finished a colored pencil piece i’ve been working on off and on for months … i’m glad it’s finally done. one step closer to selecting artwork for a display … displayed … that kinda wigs me out, but i feel honored at the same time.

i wish i could keep thinking of things to write about … makes me feel less lonely … like as if i were sitting with someone face to face and saying all these things … i think my vocal cords would go into shock if i spoke this much out loud in a sitting …

the end .. for now.

Women’s retreat + expanding comfort zone bucket list.

I went to MAG Women’s retreat this year. It was my first time … my friends have been trying to get me to go for approx. the last 3 years before this one. I didn’t go out of fear, finances, etc … but this year I made the choice I would and I absolutely needed to be there …

I sent an email to my ladies explaining how the weekend was for me … I won’t write all of that here, but I will take a most meaningful experience from there and share it here.

i ripped out all the pages in my book, had the blades in my hand … i had to do something … kristi came up with me to the altar and i left them at the altar because i didn’t want my only memories of retreat to be bad … i wanted to let them go but they wouldn’t let go of me. the altar call was intense … i was exhausted … i remember being so tense that i couldn’t move or breathe. there are moments i couldn’t make out what kristi was saying to me … i couldn’t make my body obey what she wanted me to do … i was out of control. i was bound … like something was sitting on my chest and throat. i couldn’t make words come out of my mouth. i couldn’t unclench my fists … i couldn’t stop thinking about cutting … and how the blades were surrendered once again and the feelings of regret and fear that came with it. i needed to hold on to the stage with one hand so i couldn’t hurt myself. i needed to pound my fists and i think at one point i remember kicking the stage … no control. i was pinned down and trying to break away and fighting for my life and sanity … if kristi wasn’t there, i would have passed out cause i don’t remember breathing … my heart hurt. she eventually was able to get me to sit up, but i couldn’t keep my head up anymore …. i was shutting down … i remember slipping away from myself and being brought back …

This experience took place on Saturday night. It was something that I won’t ever forget … the presence of God was there and I was fighting it but I didn’t want to. I couldn’t relax. The pages I talked about leaving at the altar were journal entries I had been writing since I got there on Friday afternoon. It was all negative … suicidal sounding … it was dark and hopeless … and I decided I didn’t want to keep those as my only memory of the weekend. I wanted to let them go … so I ripped them out and laid them on the altar with the two remaining blades I’ve been holding on to for a while. I am bladeless again … I imagine it’s probably been just over a week since I last cut …

The weekend centered alot around being transparent … I’ve been thinking about this and I want to work more on letting my humaness show. It’s scary showing imperfections and being honest about what you struggle with …

Since last night after getting home, I’ve had this short little list in my head about things I want to do that will help me with this …

• I’ve gone to a group called Raiders of the Lost Arts. It’s our church knitting/crocheting ministry … and the couple times I’ve gone I’ve brought my drawing books and pencils and worked on my own thing. Well, even though I don’t think I’ll like it very much … I want to learn … or at least try it once. Maybe I am convincing myself I won’t like it because I don’t have very much confidence in trying to do new things. However, at this moment I would be open in being taught one on one …. the more I think about it, the more important it becomes to me.
• At retreat, I shared my lodge room with my friend Joan. She knows in detail about how I struggle with s.i. Very very few people have ever seen the extent of my scarring … it’s not something you show. However, hiding the scars keeps you isolated and ashamed. I wore a tank top around bedtime in our room. Even when I was by myself, I felt so very exposed when I wore it. For me to be wearing it when she was around, even though it wasn’t a very long period of time, was a huge step for me. I don’t know if she saw my arms at any point, but I felt safe in that room … and I feel a little bit less isolated now that I’ve taken that step. When it starts getting warmer outside, my desire for myself is to be able to be comfortable around those I am increasingly growing closer to … and to feel like I can wear clothes like other people wear and not be afraid of judgement. Again, cuts wouldn’t be fresh … just scars … and only around people that know me.
• Also at retreat, we had a game night … there was so much going on and I felt very over-stimulated so I mostly avoided being in there … Jenni wanted me to do the bungee run with her … I just now saw a photo of her doing it with another lady from church … I should have been running next to her, but because I wouldn’t … I became the keeper of her hat while she got harnessed in and ran. Looking at the photo makes me sad … it makes me realize how much fun I missed out on because I wouldn’t allow it for myself. I know how much fun it would have been because I’ve done it before and have had whiplash from it. Good times. So, because I missed out on this, I want to do something else completely silly with my friend Jenni … so we both can laugh … whether or not the two of us are alone or in a group. I might be open to a dance party of two in her living room. I don’t dance … I never dance …. I don’t even like dancing by myself. But I need to do it.
• I need to start using my stilts. I love watching youtube vids of people doing tricks and listening to awesome music. I think the only reason why I haven’t used them is because no one else around here has them. I am scared to use them in public and try anything for fear of failing. This spring when it gets warmer, I want to be gutsy enough to bring them to church and play in the parking lot. It will be a great outlet for me … mentally, physically, emotionally … all of the above. Self esteem wise, it could be awesome knowing that I have these crazy leg extensions that not many people I know are even willing to try. It feels good knowing I can do something that others aren’t willing to do … but that doesn’t mean I don’t want them to try! It would be nice to teach someone the skill … and feel useful.
• I am still wanting to take O up on displaying my art at church … this would help people get inside my head … without the fear and intimidation of me introducing myself face to face. My humaness would be on display … my struggles and victories … and my pictures could portray what can’t be put into words … testimony. I do okay one on one meeting people – usually if someone I already know and trust introduces me … than I feel like I can begin a friendship. Maybe my art can be a gateway to meeting new people … maybe even a ministry like Raiders can become of it someday …

I will think of more things … but I think the above list is a good start. Baby steps … I am glad I can take these steps now with the support I so desperately needed and lacked for so long. Now, I just need to try … one at a time … with one person … and allow them to help me bring my guard down and let others in.

I feel inspired …

I want to be right.

Ugh.

Temptations … I want to give in, but I know I can’t. I want it to be okay but I know it’s not.

I’m not okay … I just want to sleep and isolate. But that isn’t realistic.

I had counseling today. I almost skipped out. But I guess the hour was productive …

I have 3 homework assignments …

1. I have to talk to at least 2 women in my network about something … something that I don’t want to be honest about because I don’t want to think of myself in this way … makes me feel icky inside. Yea, that’s vague, but I haven’t decided who I’m going to talk to yet …

2. I have to put all my notes, letters, verses etc into a binder … so I have them all in one place and accessible …

3. Read the book of Philippians.

This is dumb. Not the assignments … just life in general. Choices –> consequences –> heartache –> endless cycle of shit.

Why does it have to be an endless cycle though? Why does a stupid blade or ritual have to be creeping under every wave of brain activity? Will it ever not be a coping reflex? I haven’t cut in a while. Yea, that’s vague too … I’m not counting. I won’t even venture a guess to how many days … weeks … or whatever. I remember the last place I cut. I remember how it felt before, after, and during. I know how I feel about it now … but that doesn’t take away the craving.

I worked last Sunday cleaning kennels. This particular young cat is very scared so you have to be very aware of her body language and go slow and keep calm. When I was putting her back in her kennel, I thought I was in the all clear … but she got me at the last minute. 2 nasty gouges in my palm and 3 in my forearm. It happened quickly and stung and bled. Once I got over the initial shock and cursing … I was pleased how it made me feel. I got to feel the sting of a cut … or two … or three and see the blood … and I didn’t have to feel guilty about making a choice. I guess it was a mental relapse – relief without the guilt …

I am tired of having to continuously consciously make a choice to not cut. I need to start provoking more cats.

Pfft.

…

words up mixed distant floaty flitting freeing flying
up high looking down dried up tears raining freezing
numb emotion contradicting bored silence in eyes longing
displacement in reality fighting to stay free unimaginary
dust caked stoic statue face save me with grace

As of today, I’m not counting.

I’ve decided that I’m not counting my days free. It makes me justify my relapses. I know when I don’t cut for a few days, I start getting the itch … than every day is a battle and I just keep counting them until I think the temptation will pass, all the while knowing by a certain day I’ll cave … than somehow I just make it happen. It’s dumb really. I’m not counting. Screw that – it’s not worth the pressure I put on myself.

I feel very strange … I’ve somewhat made it a goal to talk to someone every day. I kind of would like to see someone every day to … but I can’t obsess over that. I have to keep my distance … boundaries. I get fidgety thinking about that because than I start feeling intrusive. I don’t want to get too close to fast because than I’ll scare people off … I want to make sure I’m not being too needy. I asked someone that today and it was highly uncomfortable for me … asking it made me feel pathetic and miniscule – like I can’t take care of myself. Like I need a babysitter … ugh.

I don’t know what I need … the lines are blurry and I don’t know if I’m stepping over into reality or imagination …

The above video makes me think of my panic attacks … and the paranoia that sometimes accompanies them.

I’m in an Evanescence mood apparently.

I don’t feel anything else. Anything.

Lifehouse – “Simon”

The song I heard when I started crying in O’s office … it’s a good song, just must have struck a chord … for obvious reasons if you listen to it.

Isolating is just going to make all of this worse … isolate or cling … I just want to be somewhere in between and quit running back and forth from one extreme to the next. 😥

[Day 8] It would be safe to say …

… That I am upset over a massive pile of bullshit right now …

• I am feeling volatile. I want to hiss, spit, and smack people. I want to lash out with my words.
• My doctor wasn’t upfront with me in the beginning about the maintenance needed for my meds. I will not and cannot pay for lab work every month to make sure my liver isn’t failing and my blood cells aren’t vanishing. Something that I finally got comfortable with again is being ripped away from me.
• I’m frustrated that I want to cut. I want to lacerate and bleed all over the fucking floor and drain my body of the resentment I am burdened with.
• I’m frustrated that I listen and even sing to worship songs that should touch me deeply and break me … but I can’t cry.
• I am scared of progressing and every time someone says they’re proud of me, I feel ashamed because I know it’s only a matter of time … at least, that’s what I feel in my gut.
• I am probably going to isolate for the next couple or few days, because anything that comes out of mouth is likely to hurt.
• I am mad that Buckley got hurt in the microwave … I have to bandage his leg and it’s my own fault. He won’t be going in the microwave again. It was like a bad omen … it felt like I had hurt Jenni and I can’t even bear the thought of that. Because she gave him to me and he signified a great deal of love, I attached myself to it. I attach myself to inatimate objects … blades, movie ticket stubs, text messages, stuffed animals, even a grass ring that I kept for 5 years … the list is endless. I get highly upset and can’t handle it when they get damaged or lost … it’s like losing someone abruptly that I’m close to … and I’ve already had that happen enough.
• I want to isolate so I don’t hurt anyone else. I want to isolate so I don’t have to say goodbye.

Other than all of this, today was okay … I went to lunch with O but my anxiety levels were high. It was just me and my brain blowing things out of proportion. Lunch was good and I was trying hard to pay attention. Bananagrams was fun to … increasingly hard to pay attention near the end … mind was elsewhere. I sat in her office for a while and worked on the stupid art piece I’ve been trying to finish for at least two months. I’m close to being done but I’m so tired of it that I want to quit, yet I can’t because it’s unfinished … I’m starting to resent the art. It makes me chuckle because it’s so ridiculous. Maybe I resent it because for the last couple days I’ve been having a hard time without cutting and the art is a healthier way of coping … like that awkward friend that you don’t particularly like but have to play with because your parents arranged it. I sat in her office for a while and had to get up and walk out because tears were starting to flood my eyes and I couldn’t see. I didn’t want to be inconvenient so I left. I didn’t want to cry … it happens when I don’t want to and never does when I need to. When I had calmed down a little, I went back, got my stuff and left … no hug. Something screamed inside of me to get the hug but I resisted it, otherwise I’d cry again and/or panic.

So, from this point on until further notice, I’m officially isolating … I have to … it’s safer … for everyone involved.