Buried Alive

I have been in a funk for quite a while now. Usually they don't last quite this long. I'm generally able to pull myself out of the funk by now, but for some reason I haven't been able to yet. It probably has to do with my crazy schedule at the moment and this stupid cold I've been fighting for a while...

But I feel like I've been buried alive. And I'm suffocating. I can't hardly even think from one moment to the next what I'm supposed to be doing, and that has lead to either too much or not enough sleep and me hardly eating at all. I've always been the kind of person who only eats when I'm hungry, but when I'm hungry... LOOK OUT. I haven't been hungry in quite a while. I can go most days without eating at all, but I have to cook dinner for my family, so I usually will at least eat that meal.

I don't know what to do to pull myself out this time. Nothing is helping, and some things I can't do because of circumstances at the moment, like exercise. I can't physically exercise right now because I'm constantly on the verge of an asthma attack thanks to this stupid cold. I get winded from simply walking up and down the stairs... I'm not about to step outside in the humidity and attempt to go running... or walking for that matter.

I haven't been able to clean my  home... yes I can pick it up and keep the general living areas okay enough... but I cannot wrap my head around the idea of cleaning. There's too much to do and not enough time or energy or focus and it's all so discouraging... I just avoid it all together.

I don't feel like writing. I have to force myself to write out my daily articles for the website and I have no more words left over after those 2,500... and it makes me a bit sad because writing used to help tons.

I need something to look forward to. Something to pull me back in. But everything I think of only makes me more anxious and depressed. It may be a bit before I get back into writing regularly, but hopefully I'll be able to come out of this funk soon and come back to reality. I really need to.

My Hell (Warning: May Trigger) (With UPDATE)

I sat down an hour and a half ago to begin writing out a story. This story is my story. It's terrible, and haunting, and makes me sick to my stomach to think about.

I am damn proud of myself right now. I just finished writing 17 pages worth. There is more to write but I cannot manage anything else at the moment. I have most of the major stuff written... kinda. I have more ideas and thoughts swimming in my head, but I'm physically, mentally, and spiritually exhausted. I feel as if I have been beaten up and broken and left bleeding on the pavement. But I'm still proud. A bit scared of what I may do til sleep comes and replaces the thoughts in my head with some much needed nonsense...

But I just had a thought... I'll probably dream about it, about what I just put on paper to try to help ease it all out of my head. I will probably dream about him. The more I've thought about it, the more literal my dreams have been... no longer verging on metaphorical, but being much more straight forward. And it's scary. I wake up most mornings feeling as if I had been molested during the night. It's hard to share a bed with my husband when that is going on. It's hard to sleep at all when that is going on. So I've been staying up til the sun is rising and my eyelids can't possibly stay open for another second. I know those dreams are just that... dreams. They are not real. The touching, abuse, and trauma from them is not real. But the feelings, the pain, the hurt... all that IS real. And it sticks around, ruining my days and leading only to more sleepless/nightmarish nights.

And here are the chills, up and down my spine as I think about it all, like his nasty fingers on me. The headache and stomach ache have been there since I first began writing nearly 2 hours ago. The chest pains have come and gone while I wrote, depending on where I was in the story.

I'm scared to even move. I know I'm on the edge. Do I try to take something to calm myself down? Do I wake Handsome and ask for his help in distracting me? Do I just accept that my night is going to be Hell and get on with getting it over with? It's difficult because I guess I knew this would come from bringing up so much of the story to the forefront of my mind, So I probably shouldn't be writing it in the middle of the night, so that I can protect myself from moments such as this. But at the same time, This is about the only time I can find the privacy and "flow" to write it out.

I need something uplifting. Something to completely redirect my thoughts. Something to get these images out of my head. Anything to get HIM out of my mind. At least tomorrow(later today) I will be able to see my therapist and hash some of this out. But again, that will result in keeping all this in the forefront of my mind, leave it swirling in there, and it will be a shadow on the rest of the day. And handsome will not be home tomorrow night to be my safety net to catch me if/when I fall to far into hell. But a friend will be stopping by. Maybe the whole purpose of planning our catch-up was divinely inspired, so that I would not be alone during this time.

The most random thing I can think to do to lift my spirits at the moment is a McDonald's Rolo McFlurry. I love those freakin things. And I want one, right now. My reward, for a hard job well done. But I'm afraid to go alone. If I'm alone, I will feel the shadows behind me in the car. Not even the radio on full blast will shoo them away. If I'm alone there may be thoughts of self-harm that creep in, and I'm trying to avoid them at all costs... especially after I lost my head a bit this evening and hurt my thumb in a fit.

So I could wake Handsome up and see if he would be willing to go get me one, or ride with me. Pregnant women do stuff like that all the time right?  I have one awful baby in my head that needs a McFlurry to calm down... Only I can't use the excuse that he made me like that, so he had to deal with it... The exact opposite is true. He tries so hard to be understanding, to help, to relieve as much of the pain as he can, to be exactly what I need him to be (though most times neither one of  us know what that is.)  So If I wake him up to help me, there will be guilt from him losing sleep. He has work tomorrow, and scout camp after that. He needs to sleep. I need to be stronger. But as I said before... I'm tired. That story wears me out... and maybe I should have stopped before I got too deep into it.

Regardless, I need to stop thinking about this and find a distraction. Not sure what I'll find yet, but something (anything) has got to help.

I also found this website tonight. (http://writingourselveswhole.org/)  If you're trying to write about traumatic experiences in your life, this is a great place to go and check out. It helped me get started tonight. Maybe it could help you as well.

****I've had a few messages from people on FB and emails and others just checking on me to make sure I'm doing okay. I'm great. I ended up waking Chris up and we went to McDonald's at 3 in the morning (and they were busy... WTHeck?)  Turns out they were cleaning their ice cream machine, so no McFlurry, but Handsome helped me get my mind off everything and we laughed and laughed and ended up turning on the Princess Bride when we got back home. So yeah... I'm good. Thank you all for your concern and for making sure I'm doing good. I appreciate it and love you all.

Depth of Feelings

I was thinking the other day about how bad I feel sometimes. It is overwhelming. It effects everything about me, my thoughts, my speech, my demeanor, my looks, my posture, how I treat myself and those around me... Sometimes it hurts so much that I would rather be done with life than to continue feeling that bad.
(I AM NOT SUICIDAL. AT NO POINT HAVE I WANTED TO TAKE MY OWN LIFE!  Hurt so badly that I ache for the pain to stop, however that has to happen, yes... but end my life on my own? Nope. And that's not what this post is about anyways.) I have numerous times felt so horrible all I could do was curl up and cry, and not just crying to myself, but down on the floor in the fetal position sobbing so hard my entire body is shaking.

I've had so many people think that I'm just sad sometimes. I'm not sad sometimes. The heartbreak that I feel is not like some teenage girl trying to get over a crush. My whole soul wrenches. It aches. It pleads for peace, for a moment's peace... just a millisecond of hope to help me get through. Nothing really helps in those moments of complete despair and darkness. I can pray, receive blessings, try to read scriptures, try to talk about it, but usually it just has to pass. All I can do is to endure to the end.

I am not a sad person. I am not a depressed person. I am a happy person who happens to struggle with a disease. But I am kinda grateful in some ways for that disease. Because I have felt such pain, heartbreak, despair, darkness, I can celebrate the times I have happiness and peace and joy and laughter. I can be furiously happy and laugh my ass off at the hilarity of life because I have known the opposite. And to be honest, I think I would rather feel the extremes than to just kind of hang somewhere in the middle. I've been there (thanks to drugs) and did not like it.

I will take the tears, the hurt, the ache if it means I can laugh til my stomach hurts, I can be happy for those days where my mind is my own. I can dance around my home like an idiot and enjoy how good it feels to just be alive with my gorgeous little girls and my incredibly sexy husband. I can love the things in this life that make me happy and not be embarrassed by them or by who I am.

I have wondered over and over again why it is that I have to struggle with such a hard disease. It's not like there's one simple answer out there to make me better. Like with my Asthma, I have an attack, I use my inhaler, end of story. I know that cats trigger it so I stay away from them. It's easy. It's fixable. Depression is so much different. Yes there is medication, but often the side effects can be as bad as the symptoms. I have not taken an antidepressant in a month, yet I'm still having "brain shivers" from coming off of them. I don't want the meds. I don't want the side effects. I don't want to feel numb. If I have to feel this pain in order to feel the joy and happiness that I have had, then so be it. I will endure to the end. I will not give up, and I will also continue to appreciate the little things in this life that make me furiously happy.

The heart break that I feel sometimes is not just me feeling sad.

Where else can I whine but here?

This is MY blog after all, and I can whine if I want to.


Today sucks... For absolutely no reason at all. Okay fine... maybe there is a ton of shit on my  mind.


Want a list?

• I'm worried about my sister

• I need to call our car ins and switch it over

• I need to call the dr office to schedule my daughter's apt to get her up to date on shots

• I'm worried about the truck we sold to another sister

• I need to call the hospital to schedule payments

• I need to call a friend about writing for his website

• I need to finish cleaning my house... no REALLY cleaning... Not just picking up and vacuuming, but dusting and washing and scrubbing and organizing.

• I need to finish hanging up the laundry.

• Both my daughters are sick from how hot it's been (they're both broken out all over their faces and backs and arms in heat rash.)

• My yard is dead. I want a garden. I can't have one.

• I need to take my dogs out but they stink and I don't feel good enough to give them a bath.

• Hubby is at work so I'm left at home all alone to deal with this funk myself.

• I lost my phone so I have no ones numbers and don't really know who'd I'd call anyways.

• I need to finish a painting.

• I need to finish coloring the  name signs for my nieces and nephews.

 I've tried distractions. I've tried working on my list. Nothing is helping and I just keep sinking farther and father today. It's BOLOGNA! I can't see that word and not say Bo-log-nah in my head. Just can't.


I need good pick me up ideas. Comment and let me know what you do to pick yourself up. I need some ideas...


So 1...2...3... GO.  Comment.  What are you waiting for? Hurry Up! Do it! NOW. 


Okay, I'm sorry for yelling. I just hate feeling funky. 

Wait... Stop Everything. I'm not ready for the 4th!

Yeah yeah, I know it's here already... but I'm not ready for it. 

I'm having a bit of a rough morning. I'm trying to ignore the shadow of impending doom that keeps following me around this GOSH DARN house but it's hard. 

So I'm about to pop in "I Love You, Man" and start on another painting. 

Then off to a birthday party, then maybe home? Not sure what after that. 

I'm just hoping and praying that this shadow goes away. 

Do it for yourself.

I have a friend (I'll call her Sam) who is one of my three heroes. I met Sam about 7 years ago I think. I could go on and on about how amazing she is, all that she has endured and overcome, but most of it is pretty personal and I don't feel comfortable sharing it all on here, but in my opinion, she's had WAY MORE than her fair share of trials in this life. Seriously... It's unreal!!!

I went out to see Sam yesterday very last minute... I called on the way. She was welcoming as always. I love going to her farm.  Yes she has a farm! And it has everything a good farm has, cows, horses, chickens, rabbits, baby wild turkeys, a fully stocked pond with a dock to have picnics on... It's heaven on earth. My girls have a BLAST every time we go and it makes me ache to have them grow up in the country, but I digress.

When I first met Sam, we were instantly friends. Over the years she has become family. Every time I see her I know more and more that we were meant to be in each others lives. Yesterday, Sam and I sat in her room on the floor and talked for a couple hours. I had no idea how badly I needed that. 

Sam has been through much of the same things I have in life and has many of the same issues (anxiety, depression, etc.) I was telling her about my struggle and the ways I'm trying to overcome it. I told her about being molested when I was 14, and feeling so sad for that little girl I was then. Sam told me she had been molested as a child as well. She told me she calls her younger self the "Summer Child." I told Sam about how I want to get better for my Handsome, for my girls, for the children we have yet to have... Sam told me something amazing.

The only way I will truly get better is to get better for myself. I will only truly overcome this awful disease if I do it for my own  "summer child." I have to get better for that 14 year old girl who was hurt so badly. I have to get better for the 40 year old woman I will be someday. I have to get better for the 80 year old woman I will be. 

It's weird when I say it out loud, but I don't feel like the me right now is worth it... is worthy of me being better, of me feeling better, of me being happy. But when I think about that girl I was, I want to get better to avenge what happened to her, the hurt she felt. When I think about the future me, I feel like I owe it to myself to do this. 

I have tried to wake up in the morning and think, "I need to shower, shave my legs, fix my hair and do my make-up  for Chris. I need to make a schedule for my girls." Everything I try to do, I'm doing for someone else. But I need to want these things for me. I need to make myself feel worthy again. And by slowly doing things like getting dressed and dolled up for myself, and no one else, will help me rebuild the relationship with myself, help  me realize my own self worth, and hopefully, help me to stop the self abuse. 

Thank you Sam. You help me to see that I am worth something. You help me feel that I am not alone. You uplift me so much. I pray that I help you do the same. I feel strong because you can see strength in me. I hope you feel the same. Thank you for all you have taught me and for being my sister. I adore you lady. 

From now on... I'm doing this for myself.

If you're not broke...

don't read this.

I consider myself broken. I am not whole, perfect, or normal by any means. 

I look at women who have it all together, women who are pretty,  women who are tall, women who parent with gentle voices and don't threaten to eat their children, women who can work and take care of their house, women with clean homes, women with clean clothes, women with children dressed in the latest trends, women with their hair done, their nails done, their make up perfect... and I envy them.

I think they must be better than me, normal. I assume they think they're better than me. 

I judge them and I do it harshly. I almost kind of hold myself separate from them because I consider myself broken. They could never understand me. They would never be able to relate to my struggles or my issues or my trials. In some ways it makes me feel better to judge. Then I can feel a bit better about the fact that my home is not clean or my hair is not fixed because these women feel they are too good for me so I don't have to talk to them and let them judge me while I judge them in return.

Over the past month of me writing this blog I have received so many emails and messages from people, some of whom I have been judging. They said thank you for my honesty about my struggle and related their own struggles to me and it opened my eyes in so many ways.

We are all broken in one way or another. No one in this world is whole or even normal.

We have to quit judging. We have to quit comparing. We have to realize we're all just doing our best with what we have and what we can handle. We have to stop comparing our worst to others' best. If we saw each other at that lowest point, we would feel nothing but compassion and empathy for one another. So many women have shown me just that, compassion and empathy, because I am putting my lows out there for the world to see. I have felt so uplifted by their messages and their reassurances that I am not alone. 

I'm making a new goal for myself - NO MORE JUDGING.

I'm going to try not to judge those women around me who I think have it all and have it all together, because they don't. I'm going to quit judging myself based on some imagined "perfect mom" that I think I should be. I'm going to try to realize we're all doing what we can with what we have, and that's all that is required of us. 

I'm going to try to be more friendly and open to the women I meet. 

I think this will help be a bit happier, and love myself and those around me a bit more. Hopefully I can have more charity for everyone... after all... We're all broke. Every single one of us. And if we realize that maybe we can help fix ourselves and maybe others too.

Why me?

The pain in my heart at the moment is so real, I can hardly breath. I'm not quite sure that this is a panic attack cause my heart is not racing. I'm just so overwhelmingly sad... It feels good to cry though. The tears are kinda healing in some ways. They calm me down a little.  It's like I can just get it out through there and then I'm better.

My biggest frustration lately is WHY. Why do I have depression? What is it's purpose? Why do I have anxiety? Why do I have to suffer?

My conclusion is still kinda up in the air, and I don't know that I will ever really know WHY... well in this life anyways.  But here's what I've come up with so far.

1. Genetics. My mother has depression and anxiety issues. My older sister has these issues as well. My younger brother has had anxiety issues. I wonder if anyone else in my family suffers from these issues.  I think we all get some mental quirks from our parents. I can see mine very obviously. My dad has control issues... and can be a bit OCD and has some hoarding stuff... nothing that complicates his life. But I have those tendencies as well. And like I said, depression and anxiety from my mama.  But what I don't know is if this stuff is learned or DNA. I'm hoping more of it is learned than not... Because I am terrified of passing this on to my daughters. I really hope I don't.

2. Hormones. Having my two daughters back to back threw me off. I am blaming part of this on my IUD as well. Mirena does have some hormones and I think I'm off balance.  But I don't want a baby anytime soon, so I'm not having it removed. There are other factors playing into my issues anyways.

3. Past Events.  There have been 3 major events in my past that have directly led to my issues with Anxiety, Depression, and PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder.) I was molested twice when I was growing up. One of those times I was very young and don't remember it. But that doesn't mean it has no effect on my psyche. Another one of those times I was a teenager and a family member molested me. That I remember in vivid detail... up to a certain point. Then it's blank... then I remember what happened afterwards. That one haunts me. I have forgiven those involved and tried to move past it as much as I can, but I have never seen a therapist for it. The third event was being kicked out of college. At the time, I shut down. I quit eating, my hair started falling out... So I moved. I changed my life to try and get me out of the funk. But it only got worse. The environment around me was not helpful and I kept slipping further and further. I finally came back home and got my shit together. That's when I met Chris and my life started looking up.

I know all this has led to my mental health issues.  Some of these issues can be corrected physically with prescriptions and regular exercise and sun, etc.  Some can't. Some will be with me through my entire life. They led me to where I am and to who I am, and though I may be broken in places... I wouldn't trade where I am right now for anything. I love my life and those around me. So if this is my burden to bear, then I will try my hardest.

Even though I am resigned to the fact that some of this will be with me my whole life does not mean that I am giving up and giving in to the depression. I will try daily to fight it. To strive for joy and happiness and light in the darkness.

One of my heroes, The Bloggess, said that those who suffer from depression are deeper people because of the suffering we have. I agree. I have a deeper sense of sympathy, of joy and of light. I can appreciate them more because of the pain I feel. I can laugh harder because of those times when sadness overwhelms me. Maybe that is the why... maybe it's so that I can be a deeper person, more grateful, more empathetic, more caring, more loving, and happier in times of peace. And if I have been called to suffer so that I can be this person, then so be it. I will be her. And pray that it is enough.

Nothing to be ashamed of!

I wrote this blog post on another blog and then out of shame deleted the blog. :/ This was my first post on the blog and it was very hard for me to write. After reading a blog post by my favorite blogger, The Bloggess, I decided it needed to be posted again. For anyone out there dealing with this craziness. I have depression, but it goes beyond that. I also have PTSD, anxiety, and I self harm. I may also be a bit ADD or ADHD. After reading the post by the Bloggess (link above) I realized how strong I am. I have been fighting depression off an on for 10 years now and pretty steadily for the past 3. I kick ass. And I can kick depression's ass. Anyways... this post needed to be put back up again. Judge away. I don't care now (I do but I'm trying to convince myself I don't... so let me pretend okay!) 

WOOHOO

Somewhere for me to finally post all the f'ed up craziness inside my head. It's hard on Facebook cause everyone's like "It's a status, not a diary." And it's not necessarily appropriate on the family blog... So here it is!!! YAY.

So lately my depression has been getting worse and worse. I stayed up until 6AM last night/this morning. Insomnia is a B-word.  (I'm trying so hard not to cuss... but some are part of my normal vocabulary... proceed with caution.) I was finally able to get the voices in my head to stop by sitting at the computer and typing all their bull crap out. Thought I'd post it here for the world to see... talk about airing dirty laundry.  Well this dirty laundry is covered with pit stains and skid marks... It's nasty.  Here goes.

12-1-11

Well, I have gone off the deep end again. My depression is back and it seems like it is back with a vengeance.  I was doing pretty well… not extraordinary, but well.  I don't really know what triggered this episode, except maybe my lack of drinking ASEA.  If that is truly the case, then HOLY COW.  That stuff can work wonders when I take it, but the lack of it… HELL.  I am up at 5:00AM. I have yet to go to bed. It's fine though, because I napped this morning from 8-11 or so… while all 3 kids (my 2 girls and the little boy I watch during the day) had to fend for themselves. I'm awful, I know. 

But I have no will power. I will probably give in and sleep half my day away and wake up feeling like SHIT and have to apologize to my 3 year old daughter for not being her mommy today.  Hearing her say "It's okay mama," and then my lies about doing better tomorrow break my heart. Crush it, rather. I truly hate myself. I even kept my 4 year old home from school today because I couldn't stand the thought of having to get out and go pick her up at the end of her school day. 

Do you think I need a shrink?  Ha!!!! I can't afford one, so I get to suck this up on my own. I feel like there is no one I can go to, except my Savior. But even then… I had a conversation with him in my head tonight. I sat and thought about this… this back and forth I constantly am doing. Depressed then not, paralyzed with fear, then superwoman. I realized that this is probably going to be the rest of my life.  I will do this up and down, back and forth, happy and sad, joy and pain for the rest of my life. I can't do it.  I honestly can't. At least I don't want to. That's not how I want to live my life.

 But how do I change it? And also, how do I keep my children from seeing this? My 3 year old is to the point where she is forming her first memories that she'll have for the rest of her life.  Will she remember me sleeping away our days on the couch, unable to move because of how much I HATE myself? I say to myself, "I HAVE TO CHANGE FOR HER." Yet I do nothing. I have the best intentions. I start to clean, I start projects to teach her, help her learn and grow… then I slip back into my cave, back into depression, back into the darkness. I'm so sick of it… I don't know what to do.

Should I take up drinking? Not so that I can deal with it all, but that I numb the pain and hatred enough to fake being the mom I need to be for my girls. I love them to the ends of the earth and back.  They ARE my world… but I know I'm failing them and I can't do that. 

I'm not depressed about my life… I love my life. I love my family. I am blessed beyond belief. I have the most perfect husband in the world. I couldn't have dreamed up a better man. I have two absolutely gorgeous daughters who are so good… so sweet… so kind… so well behaved… who are best friends. We have a great home. My husband has an amazing job and I'm able to stay home with my children. I have no excuses for my depression… according to some people… yet my depression is not about the life I live in… It's about inside. It's about the hate I have for myself. It's about the difference in who I am and who I was meant to be. 

My depression is not what I've heard others talk about anymore. I don't want to kill myself. I don't want to run away from my life. I can laugh and find the humor in life. I still enjoy doing some things and I very desperately want to do those things. But I don't. I just want to have the strength, the courage, the will power to do the things that I envision… To get up and have a clean home, to follow a schedule, to do fun things with my kids, to continue to date my husband, to be the right kind of mother, the right kind of wife, the right kind of Latter-day Saint. 

I know I have a Savior, that he can help me through this… but how? How do I give this to him? How do I quit hating myself? How do I gain the strength to get up and make breakfast every morning? I didn't feed my kids dinner tonight until it was just 30 minutes or so before their bedtime. WHAT THE HELL!!! I've been hiding how bad it is, even from myself. I lie to my husband and family and friends. They know part of it. But they don't know how bad it is. When I tell my husband that I just napped a little bit… he doesn't know that the only reason I got off the couch at noon was because he was coming home, that a 2 and 3 year old had a complete run of the house on their own until then. And if he doesn't come home, then I don't get up until 1 when I have to put clothes on to go pick up my daughter from school. Even simple things like showering and eating are chores to me… not worth doing… or I'm too lazy. 

I'm so disgusted with myself. I cannot believe that this is what I am. I really feel like a monster. I wonder if this is what a nervous breakdown feels like… I'm sick of hiding how bad it is, but what do I do to make it better? Who do I go to? I keep thinking of some magical place in the future where I no longer struggle with this… but is that a reality or a dream? I've been day dreaming about my 30's for a few years now, and I always picture them as just perfect.  We're in our home… Chris has an amazing job that's steady but has freedom as well, the girls are in school and maybe we even have a couple more kids, I can sew and clean and take my kids out to the park and playground. The girls do their homework as soon as they get home, we have family prayers, family home evening, and even read the scriptures together daily. I am happy and my kids don't have any clue of the depression I USED to struggle with.  But is that even possible? If I am still struggling with depression then like I do now, that dream isn't possible. 

I truly feel bad for Chris and the girls. I feel like because of who I am, they got cheated.  I feel like God did them a disservice by placing me in their lives. It's not fair to them. My depression doesn't just affect me, obviously!!! It is a burden on them. It is NOT fair! They deserve better. They deserve more. WHY CAN'T I DO AND BE THAT? What the hell is wrong with me? 

I watched the Mormon ad video the other day about men's hearts failing them, and the apostle spoke about that meaning fear. I don't know that I'm necessarily afraid of anything, but I do feel that my heart has failed me. I have no strength. I have no courage. I have no will power. My weakness is more powerful than any strengths I possess. But God will give us nothing we can't handle… I know I can endure. I can keep dragging along, going around and around, but that never gets me anywhere. I’m not progressing. I’m not learning. I'm damned. 

What am I supposed to do? What will help? I'm trying to go back to before I was a monster. Remember before I was bad… Have I always been this way? Does it go all the way back? I remember happy times… but I feel I've always been bad, like a sinner, or maybe just damned… or damaged. 

Madison said something that terrified me last night. She said Heavenly Father didn't love her. Why does my 3 year old feel that way? Have I taught her to feel that way? Have I taught the exact opposite of what God wants me to teach her? Words cannot express the failure I feel in my heart and soul. It is just black. Not even evil… just void of anything good or pure. And I long so badly for peace, for comfort, to feel as if I've done an okay job. 

I don't expect to be perfect in this life. I DON'T. But I expect to do my job, and do it well. And I'm not doing that. I want to do that. I envision it. I plan. I have all the right intentions, but I never get there. Okay now… So I think I'm very nearly out of words… or too exhausted to continue this right now. So what to do? Show this to Chris? E-mail it to my bishop? Send it to a friend who shares my disease? I don't know what the freaking hell to do. But just simply writing it, acknowledging it has made me feel a tiny bit better… and worse at the same time. Because there's hope that comes with that tiny bit better. Then I realize it's a vain hope, because I will never overcome my depression. I think it will haunt me until I become completely paralyzed by it all.

So dramatic much? YES! I am.  But that's honestly how I was feeling last night. After I wrote all that out I chugged about 6-8oz of ASEA. I went and laid down for a bit. I got up this morning, gloomy, and got Taylor dressed. I laid on the couch... woke up to get Madison breakfast and turn on the Lion King for her, and fell back asleep. Doing my usual lazy mom thing, but I gave that to myself this morning. I don't feel guilty for it today because heck, I was awake until 6AM! I have to give myself some allowance, because I know I'm not perfect. That was my break for today (plus my facebook games... I'm saving pinterest for after I'm done cleaning my room.)

I did print out that journal entry or whatever the heck it is and show it to Chris so that he knows how bad off I've been. He told me he wasn't clueless to how I was doing. I know he wasn't but I don't think he realizes how bad it gets inside my head. How can he? I'll share bits and pieces with him, but never the whole truth. At least not usually. But writing that all out and sharing it with someone helped me to feel tons better.  Just getting it OUT of my head helped I think. Putting it in writing helped to quiet the mean people in my head who never leave me alone. (Seriously, there aren't people in my head and I don't hear voices.  I'm talking about talking to myself in my head... not outloud, cause that's crazy.  I'm crazy, but not that crazy.) I also drank a ton of ASEA this morning, so my brain is working like it should and letting me be in control instead of it controlling me. Sounds strange, maybe ridiculous, but someone somewhere must understand what that means. 

I'm excited for this evening, for the motivation I have right now to get things done. It's keeping that excitement that is the key to pulling myself out of this funk. I have to make the cleaning an indulgence. Get me a Dr. P, put on 'My Fair Lady' or 'Say Anything', and then get to organizing my crap. 

Okay, so massive post. I'm done now. Just want to put down for future reference 3 things about my depression I realized last night.

1. Being honest with myself and others about what's in my head helps me to get over it.
2. Writing out what all those voices are saying helps to quiet them down, and helps me sleep better.
3. ASEA really does help. It really does work. Every single time I've quit drinking it in the past year and a half I have relapsed back into my depression, and I think each time, I drop very low before I realize I haven't been doing what I should. 

I highlighted those because I want to remember them, so the next time I start to relapse, maybe I can catch it before I'm in too deep. At least today I'm hopeful. And that's a huge blessing.