JULY 2004 RANTS

7-26
"Its hard to know when to give up the fight
Some things you want will just never be right
Its never rained like it has to night before
Now I don’t wanna beg you baby
For something maybe you could never give
I’m not looking for the rest of your life
I just want another chance to live

Strange how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I’m holding on underneath this shroud
Rain"

Honestly, I just want another chance to live. I deserve that, don't I?

7-26

7-25
Okay this is like my fourth post in one day...three from yesterday, one today...all in 24 hours. Wish I could talk this much. Bobb would probably like that.

So I was listening to this one song tonight, instrumental (heard it was good, but maybe not for driving with a lead foot), and was thinking about the title for the album, by Chris Thile..."Not all who wander are lost" and if you think about it...what a damn good title. I wander a lot these days...and I generally consider myself to be lost. But maybe I'm not. Don't know....that would mean I'm putting my faith and trust in the unknown and that somehow everything will work out...not sure if I can do that yet. But I also think about how I pretty much march to the beat of a different drum...then I guess a "typical" person. Just not wired the regular way. Which is fine for me...I prefer to be that way honestly.

You know...I really did have more thoughts on this...but when you take Seroquel and it hits you...you cannot string together much coherent thoughts. Brain kinda just shuts down. So I'm ending my thoughts.

I really wanted to write something good, since I have therapy tomorrow...but, just...whatever... my best thoughts are the three below this.

Night.

7-24
I wish there were easy answers out of all this...a magic wand to make all this hurt and this pain go away (or a nice money tree!). But...there are no easy answers...and life's not fair. So I have to accept that and move on...and hope that I find a path somewhere out there...that is right for me. Just like there is a right one for each of you. We will find it sometime...might take a lot of fight...a lot of searching- our blood, sweat and tears...but somehow...we have to find it. I have to believe in that. Or what am I fighting for?

I can't believe I would be made to go through all of this...and for it to be life-long. I refuse to believe that. I see the moments when I'm with the kids and the happiness there...and I know there has to be more of that out there. There has to be a time when I won't go to sleep and fear my dreams, or to be able to be in the presence of someone I trust and actually be able to talk freely, there has to be a day when I will cry...when I will grieve, when my past won't chain me to such dark thoughts and dark paths, when my past will just be my past and not indicative of my future, when I can see something sharp and not think of what I used to do...when I can look forward to each day and smile...because I made it to that day. These are the things I believe in...that allow me to be on my knees with the shit kicked out of me...and I go on.

Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. 
~Anne Lamlot

These are the things I hope...and that hope brings me to the next day, so that I may continue fighting.

7-24

7-24
Okay...does anyone else have a problem talking? I can write tons about how I feel, my experiences, my "stories." But when I sit in that therapy room, across from my therapist...I can't say jackshit. It is frustrating both of us. I even had notes this time...didn't bring them out, until the session was over. She just looked at me and took them...and sighed.

I feel like we are where we were a year ago. I was doing so well talking for a while there, and now it feels like I have taken a big step backwards. She'd ask me questions or ask me what I'd want to talk about...and nothing...I couldn't say anything of substance. Yet, my insides were screaming to be let out. But nothing.

She even asked me at one point, what do I get out of therapy. I couldn't even really answer that. Truth is...as much as I pay now...I'd pay way more to just be in the same room as that woman. How do you explain that to someone? I don't know what it is, but just being in her presence, even when I'm acting dumb, is healing, comforting , whatever you wanna call it.

But back to talking...how do I overcome this? How do I really tell her how I feel...and not just write it- but say it. I need to get back on track, but I don't know how. I just feel like I'm going in circles. And I need to stop myself before it gets worse. I mean...I am so freakin' sad most of the time...yes I can admit that in writing. And if only you could see my face while I'm writing this- it is SAD...I even took a picture of myself once to see what I looked like while writing all of this...oh man is that a sad photo. So where are the tears? WHERE ARE THEY?! Not to mention my rage...that just quietly sits there, waiting for me to find an outlet. I think I'll be hitting the batting cages soon. I was one hell of a hitter at one time (switch hitter at that)...it will feel good to whack a ball again.

But still...sitting in that therapy session...I wanted to say so much, but words got in the way. I wanted to tell her things, what my heart was screaming. But instead I'd laugh and switch up subjects or not talk about anything of substance. Riding the elevator back down and to my car, I just wanted to throw my hands up and say I give up.  What  am I supposed to do? What? I'm already a shitty client. Do I continue therapy and just be the awful client who does jackshit? Do I stop therapy and ensure my death? Do I figure something out...but what???

I guess I'm just angry and frustrated.

So...other than that, I had a good night (as funny as that sounds). Saw my favorite local band, who kicked ass. Heard my two favorite songs, so that is always great. Talked to the lead singer for a very long time...about music! What a passion music has turned out to be. It's just...incredible. And what an effect it has on me. So recently Julie Miller and Patty Griffin have been in heavy rotation, and Dar has not been so much. And Dar is always a main stay. But not lately. And lately, my mood has just sucked...and I just kept playing the sad deep songs. Not exactly healing music. So, good ole brilliant Bobb suggested to me, that I need to listen to Dar more. So, get in my car, after our session and pop in my all Dar mix. What song comes on first? What Do You Hear In These Sounds, "But she knows it's much better if I get if for myself." Hehe, I promptly flipped it to the other side. "After All" was playing, I could deal with that much better lol.

So...here I am at 3:30am. I'm okay, but still have those old feelings...just hiding them. I'm riding out my good mood from the music show. Because, damn it, I deserve one good night where all I have to think about or talk about are things that make me happy- kids and music. And that was nice...I wasn't Erin the self injurer, Erin the manic-depressive, Erin the abused little girl, Erin the girl in therapy....I was Erin...the music lover...whose passionate about children. I liked being that woman. She was fun...at peace for a few hours...and just enjoying life.

Yeah...so I'm here...wanting to shout my emotions from the rooftops...praying that when Monday comes...I can talk again. But at the same time...so very glad I saw music tonight and had a fabulous time...I deserve those happy times where I can just "be." I wish I had more times like that.

Night.
Song for night: (Who else but Dar)

I don't go to therapy to find out if I'm a freak
I go and I find the one and only answer every week
And it's just me and all the memories to follow
Down any course that fits within a fifty minute hour
And we fathom all the mysteries, explicit and inherent
When I hit a rut, she says to try the other parent
And she's so kind, I think she wants to tell me something,
But she knows that its much better if I get it for myself...
And she says

What do you hear in these sounds?
What do you hear in these sounds?

I say I hear a doubt, with the voice of true believing
And the promises to stay, and the footsteps that are leaving
And she says "Oh," I say, "What?" she says, "Exactly,"
I say, "What, you think I'm angry
Does that mean you think I'm angry?"
She says "Look, you come here every week
With jigsaw pieces of your past
Its all on little sound bytes and voices out of photographs
And that's all yours, that's the guide, that's the map
So tell me, where does the arrow point to?
Who invented roses?"
and...

What do you hear in these sounds?
What do you hear in these sounds?
-What do you hear in these sounds, Dar Williams

Yup...that's me and Bobb.

7-22
Well, another disaster has been averted, barely. I did not let my parents win. I would love to be in their head for just one day...and figure out where they come up with this shit. I mean, do they just look at each other and say...hey, what can we do to Erin this week to push her over the edge? I mean come on. They are my own parents, flesh and blood...and they want to see me fail??

My father had an interesting take on this and I think he may be partially right. He said that he wonders if they do this because my parents know I will turn to my father, and they are trying to set it up so that he would have to say no to me. They came close this time, since it was a large amount of money that I owed the school. However...lucky me I had been saving my money like mad and had enough so that I only had to ask my Dad for a little over half. Course now I am flat broke again and have to be extremely careful with my money until I build it back up again. Sigh.

So this weekend I'll be busy, I have a potty training! I have made sure that I have slept every night this week and ate food every day too. Last potty training I didn't sleep or eat well...and that weekend was pure hell. Professionally I was great and on par...but inside I was dying. I won't make that mistake again.

I do have therapy tomorrow, thank goodness. Good thing I have potty training this weekend, every thing I make will go to pay for therapy tomorrow and on Tuesday. There is so much to talk about with brilliant *Bobb* that I won't know where to begin. And hopefully...well...I'm just sorry for something.

I have been taking notes all week for myself...I didn't necessarily write up anything, but have just little notes to remind myself, because I did a lot of thinking this week. It's amazing what you can think of while driving hehe. Red lights are great for me, because I can write down stuff. Did lots of that...the car is one of the few places I do nothing but think...and listen to great music. And so I did a lot of thinking...about where my suicidal rant came from, why I wrote it, why I had such an extreme reaction to past rants...why I had such a reaction to what my parents did. And why I am just a mess right now period.

And I bounce back and forth from emotions...sometimes numb, sometimes incredibly sad. I like it when I am sad...and I think it was Wednesday, or maybe sometime Tuesday...I was very, very sad. I just remember the feeling coming up and overwhelming me. Incredible. And...when I found out I had two days to come up with a large sum of money...I did almost cry. The closest I have come in a long time. Because I saw my life flash before my eyes...I knew if I didn't figure this out...I was done. Because if school was taken away from me...then my counselor would have been taken away from me, my medication...and my sanity. It's funny, my parents are the only ones I currently know that are trying to make their daughter insane. Most parents would rather their daughter to be sane. What the hell is wrong with them?!

And I really am...tired of the fight. I have been saying that for weeks now...so you know I mean it. I just want...to live...and just live...not have to fight tooth and nail for everything...not have to worry about the stupid shit I have to worry about. And I'm tired of taking the steps in front of me, and not know what they are. This whole putting faith in the unknown is NOT fun, very scary and I don't like it. But of course, stupid stubborn me is going to do it anyway.

Alright, time for bed, I need my rest. I'm going to post two old poems now. And to *Bobb*...I'm sorry...I didn't know what else to do, I really didn't...I'm sorry.

The Battleground

So many months past-
Thrown away with one blade;
It all happened so fast,
My heart, I’ve betrayed.
 
The skin is my battleground,
For words I cannot utter.
My body is bound,
To this broken cutter.
 
This pain has become numb;
I'm lost to the hurt inside,
To pain I’ve succumb,
I think it’s about time I’ve cried.
 
Red ran down last night,
Across my hand, across my pride;
Surely I’ve lost my sight,
Pain and numbness collide.
 
I throw the towel in,
The white flag departs-
Here, take my skin-
But you can’t have my heart.

Broken Cutter
"Hate me"
Carved into my arm,
Is this cause for alarm?

Cuts wrapped around my wrist,
Suddenly I feel lost-
I think of what the cuts have cost.

Definite stares at my arms-
They wonder why there is so much red,
I think I’d rather be dead.

I just would like to cry out why,
Why can’t I cry?!
Why can’t I just say goodbye?!

I’m just tired of staying strong,
I’m getting worn down here-
My life is being ruled by fear.

So I sit here and ponder,
Why I feel so much strain,
And why numbness overcame pain.

Why did I cut again?
Why have I thrown everything away-
Just for some thoughts gone astray.

So here I lay,
Nothing to utter
For I am a broken cutter.

7-21
This song fits:

All the pieces of Mary go round like a wheel of misfortune inside her brain
All the pieces of Mary go round, till she finds somebody who can take the pain
All the pieces of Mary go round, it starts with a stare and then she's gone away
All the pieces of Mary go round, maybe she'll be gone away for good someday
What's the matter, she's so fragile, she gets shattered, she goes crazy
From the clatter in her head, poor Mary
Mary

All the pieces of Mary go round like a wheel of misfortune inside her head
All the pieces of Mary go round, she can float and fly up above her bed
All the pieces of Mary go round, It's a cast of characters for all occasions
All the pieces of Mary go round, like a carnival ride in her imagination
Don't remind her she goes backwards
If you find her, clock is broken
It's much kinder, just to wait for Mary
Mary

Her amnesia is her only anesthesia
She's so glad her memory's so bad isn't it, Mary
Mary

All the pieces of Mary go round, she just can't remember what she can't forget
All the pieces of Mary go round, till she burns right down like a cigarette
All the pieces of Mary go round, now she's all grown up with no place to go
All the pieces of Mary go round, where they'll stop no one can know
- All the Pieces of Mary, Julie Miller

7-21
I'm still in a crappy mood, but I'm alive. Thanks to my father. Between the two of us we came up with enough money to cover the school expenses. I'm going to have to live on Romen soup for a while...but that is a small price to pay to be able to go to school. My parents called and left a message- we are so anxious to hear how the phone call with the school went blah blah blah...I'm not going to call them back and make them sweat it. They don't deserve a phone call from me. They don't deserve anything with regards to me.

I'm so angry I'm seeing red. They throw up road blocks as soon as I can tear them down. I keep asking myself...what have I done that is so wrong to warrant them wanting to see me fail? Am I a bad person? Have I done something wrong? What more do they want- I have an incredible job where I make a difference in a child's life, I volunteer my time to a river advocacy group, I run both this website and the message board, I am writing a research paper up for publication, I'm a great big sister to my little brothers...I go to college! What more could I do?! Okay, so I have mental health problems, I've been in and out of the hospital, I take a million meds and see a counselor- but it all keeps me alive. And hell, my mom is one of the main reasons for my problems. And I have over come them all to be where I am today.

What more can I do? I know the answer to that...it will never be enough. I just wish that didn't hurt so much. Why can't my parents love me (parents being mom and step father). Why? I'm not a bad kid, I know I'm not...but then why am I not deserving or worthy enough of that kind of love. And as much as I know in my head...that should be turned around...they aren't deserving of my love...I am still the child who wants to just be loved for once. I want something I will never get.

"It's hard to know when to give up the fight/Some things you want will just never be right"

I guess it's time to give up that fight...I'll never have a mom...they way a mom should be...I'll never have her love, the love and comfort of a mother. I'll never have that. Never.

"Strange how hard it rains now/Rows and rows of big dark clouds/And I'm still alive underneath this shroud"

It's raining hard in my world...a hell of a big storm right now in my life. But *I'm still alive.* YOU HEAR THAT WORLD?? I'M STILL ALIVE. I AM STILL RIGHT HERE FIGHTING. I AM STILL ALIVE.

I was kicked to my knees and then I had the shit beat out of me. And just when they walked away thinking I was through...I stood up and gave them the finger. And mouthed off a bit too. I am so ready to give up the fight, so tired of fighting...but I keep fighting. I don't quite understand that...I don't get how I do that.

Must be the stubbornness in me, that determination...that sarcastic side to me that would rather say an "F*** you" than stay on the ground. If they want to get the best of me...they are going to have to come out of their passive aggressive role and come out punching for real and go toe to toe with me. Because I WILL beat them every time they give me just a centimeter to work with. I have already been beaten, sexually abused, emotionally abused to the hilt, abused my own body through cutting, over-dosing and starving...I've been in and out of the hospital seven times...looked at someone and told them that I was going to commit suicide...almost lost school twice and god knows what else. And they still think they can toy with me? Make me come crying to them with my tail between my legs. Well, they have another thing coming to them.

Bloodied and beaten...I will always stand.

7-21
So my parents latest attempts to control me are winning. I figured out the loan stuff for school, go me. As soon as I told my parents that, a few days later they come back with something new. Someone from student accounts had been trying to get a hold of me for weeks now, even sent multiple billing statements home. I knew nothing until last week when they finally told me someone was looking for me.

I called today. I owe a lot of money that has to be paid by Friday at 4:00. Or...I can't go to school next semester at all.

Why would your own flesh and blood want to destroy you. School ranks up there with my job- one of the most important things. The one constant in my life. I love school, I love learning...brings me...joy. And they are taking that away.

So I made my statement:

If I fail in this, if I don't come up with the money- and they don't let me come back in the fall - I will not be alive any longer. I don't care if there is a plan B, I don't care if there are other options...I don't care about letting them win...because clearly they have more tricks up their sleeves than I do. So here is my last attempt at besting them.

Let's pray I win...otherwise, maybe I'll finally find peace.

7-21
Sometimes all you need in life is...*Bobb* and a certain blond headed little brother...oh and a sweet little girl that I work with. The first just...don't know how to describe it...has an effect on me? The second warms my heart...brings tears of joy to my eyes (figuratively...couldn't quite get 'em to come, but close enough)...and makes everything...better. He had a swim meet tonight...won first place in two events (out of four)...and is going to the Championships for the area!!! Next Tuesday night I'll be cheering him on. He did so well...shaved ten seconds off his free style time to go to the championship. Way to go bro. And he was so happy to see me there...he would be up on the starting block and grinning and waving at me. How do you not light up at the sight of that? Or how he hugs you when he's done and everyone asks if he heard them cheering and he looks up at you and says, all I heard was you (well...I do have a loud voice ;-)). And how his frown can bring you to your knees when he wants you to stay longer and you can't. But hehe, smiles again when you promise to spend the night after the champs. That smile...goes right to the soul.

And of course my sweet kiddo. She told me I sucked today, so of course we had a great session. I pushed her to try some things, she got a bit tempered. Oh and hehe...we set up a situation that she would normally get angry at, because we are trying to get her to stop hitting her siblings. So we were watching her favorite show, her sister turned the channel...well I was supposed to catch her before she smacked somebody, but oh man, so funny, as soon as it switched, she reached back and "WHACK." LOL...we had a loooong talk after that...and the more we did it, the better she got. So she did fairly well today. She talked to *Bobb* on the phone too, now that was funny. While I was talking to Bobb on the phone she kept asking to say hey, so I thought why not. She managed to say hey and state her age, which I thought wasn't bad. She talked about it from then after, saying that *Bobb was cool, and asking who *Bobb was etc. Fun.

So, things are different. I made another appt. for Friday to actually tell the truth this time. And I'm calmer, just working through stuff. One thing of note...I didn't feel exhausted today...that was nice. Now Seroquel is pounding at my door...so I will sleep yet again.

To my sweet brother- thank you and I love you more than you could ever possibly imagine. See you in my dreams tonight.

Love you.

7-20
Just finished reading more of the old rants, ((sigh)). There are no words to describe...the person I don't recognize. I did notice it getting better. Like, before my current counselor *bobb* (hehe), the rants were...enough to make me very, very, very sad. And then for a long time thereafter...nothing. It was like I was the dumbest person on the planet. I look back and I wonder...how did people put up with me? Even more perplexing, how did my counselor put up with me...that could not have been fun.

And then that leads me to wonder...if I was that blind then...how blind am I know? Maybe what I'm going through is a joke...after all...I've said many of the same thing before. What makes this time any different. I might as well cut and get it over with...after all, that is my pattern...or how bout a suicide attempt...better do it sooner rather than later...sure, come on. What's the point? I have lied to myself over and over and over again...I don't have any idea what the truth is anymore. And I sit here sadly and wonder if I care now. I guess some things are different...if I had any doubt about being manic-depressive...I've laid that fear to rest. It was there in my rants...you can't deny it- I was clearly manic at times...and clearly depressed...and I couldn't control it.

But still...the pattern of crashing and 'healing,' and repeat. I feel like now I'm in a holding pattern...just waiting for the next crash...what is next? When is my next hospital visit...I'd like to know in advance. Get all my ducks in a row and whatnot. Or hell...let's just get it all over with now, and not worry about the repeat pattern. Forget waiting for an accident to kill me...how bout for once I have the guts to follow through on it. I have often fantasized this...what it would be like if I over-dosed while everyone thought I was feeling better. It's a sure thing for me to get caught when I'm depressed...but doing it when everyone thinks I am fine. There is a certain allure to it. To know ultimately I could fool everyone...and silently go into the night. But I guess some things are meant to stay in a fantasy eh? Maybe...maybe not. What does the pattern of my life tell me?

I'm upset...to put it rather mildly. That was not me writing those words. Then again...whose to say I'm me writing these words. See where I am going with this? Quite depressing if you ask me. I remember standing in my first psych ward, arguing with my parents, just screaming, "I am empty inside, can't you understand that, I am empty, I have nothing left." Those are very true words spoken. I was empty then...I am empty now. How do you fill up something that died so many years ago. I've been fooling myself into thinking I was an actual living, breathing thing...something that had a hope of healing. But clearly I was wrong. Because I've said the same fucking shit over and over and over again. Sooner or later I was bound to realize this.

And then realize the prophesy of dying young. I always knew I would. Maybe this is the beginning of the end? Realizing all of this. Seeing yourself...living the same life over and over and over again. Sure, I change some things, add things, take away things...but the core remains the same. A sad...empty...ghost of a person. I feel like I've been fooling myself with my warm exterior. That I use my charm to pretend that I am alive. My humor, my wit...to convince others I'm alive. But sitting here...reading so many entries...I feel like the life got sucked out of me.

I did water up...but nothing fell- I tried (even had the sad music). A living person cries, do they not? And I can't cry. I can watch a hundred sad movies and not shed one tear. I can look at my own tear-jerker life and not even close. Just bull. All of it. I'm so sick of it all.

So what is this rant exactly. If you find out, let me know. Here are the unhindered thoughts of a woman dealt a blow. Of me sinking to my knees, getting ready to have the shit kicked out of me. Can't wait. I think I'll go lay down now...don't know about sleep....but...I need to turn away.

Night.

7-20
What a good day...and a crappy day all at the same time. Good day because I spent a very good part of it with one of my favorite kiddo's...the girl that I work with. She had an update today, and then we did therapy. And good news...we actually upped her hours. So she'll be getting four extra hours with me a week. That is very awesome. I haven't been able to get through everything! And she actually spent over four hours with me today...and you know what she said at the end of the session? "Hey Mommy, Erin and I had fun today!" With a big grin, and a high five. That was certainly heart-warming. Especially since a year ago I'd walk into the house and she told me she hated me and I needed to leave. Now we have fun and she loves me ;-) Very cute.

And so my day went on. Talked to the mom of my favorite little tyke (the one I'm not doing for the summer, but picking up in the fall again). She is very frustrated with the summer programming. Our little guy had learned a ton in his time with me, mastered a lot of things. And he's also very particular about therapists. So when he started with the one for the summer, he wouldn't do anything for her (despite knowing things). So now, whenever he finally does do something, she gets all excited and thinks that she is the "shit" (mom's words, not mine), and gets all cocky. The mom is just like...uh, he could do that already. So he has learned nothing new. The mom has tried time and again to explain to them, that just because he didn't do it the first week for them, didn't mean he couldn't do it. He's done all this and more...so basically they've just repeated in my footsteps and not challenged him. And he is very bright and very sarcastic. If he thought he could get away with not doing much, and they are happy with that...well then he would give them that show. Hehe, I kinda laugh at that. My little four year old tyke is outsmarting some cocky therapists. Go him. Oh also what is pissing all of us off...this summer should have been the summer for verbal stuff, for language, since he is on the verge. They are barely doing anything!!! And wasting precious time! That is what I am very angry about...and when the mom mentioned it, they just skipped right over it, saying something about we don't want to get your hopes up if he doesn't talk.

You know what I told the mom in one of our first meetings? "Your son will talk, of that I have no doubt." And I will believe that until the day I die...and the first day that I cry will be the first day he says his first word. Which will be soon. So his mom just can't wait for the next three weeks...summer program ends, and we can begin again and really get him going.

So that got me all fired up. Really wanted to dole out some ass kicking. And then I find out my insurance is being stupid again with meds...and I couldn't get meds today. And I am almost out. So get this...now it doesn't even matter if I want to take them or not...I don't have 'em period. And I have been so good lately! I'm really upset about that. I mean, I haven't ever quit cold turkey since I've been on the new ones...and to all the sudden not have them period. I'm sunk.

Add in the stupid stuff my parents are pulling to get me out of school again. And I'm just in one hell of a bad mood. I still get that spikey temperature...half the time I'm nauseous...I fight for sleep...I fight for everything. So who wants to clue me in, as to when I can stop fighting? I have therapy in the morning...what in the world to talk about...there are so many things...which bad thing should I bring up. Oh wait, there are so many to choose from. Let's just throw 'em in a hat and see what comes out. Okay so this is my cynical sarcasm. Not quite as charming.

This is one of those nights where you just wish someone would take your life for you. Then you wouldn't have the guilt of doing it yourself. You know...just get in a car accident, come on someone hit me. Or the nice thunder and lightning...come on lightning strike me down. Or how bout an allergic reaction to advil. Fall down some stairs? Choke on something? Come on...there are so many ways to end it accidentally...why am I never the lucky one.

Well...guess we can chalk these rants up to one of the most pleasant ones. Which reminds me. I was re-reading a bunch of rants tonight. WHAT A FUCKING LOSER I WAS. There, had to get that off my chest. For so freakin' long, I just wrote about...NOTHING. I hurt, I'm in pain- blah blah blah...could I not talk about anything else? For freakin' sakes...I said JACKSHIT. I don't even recognize the girl who wrote all that shit. Who the fuck was that? It's me, but it's not. So lucky me...not only did my childhood suck so bad that I hardly remember it...but I wrote like shit and don't even recognize myself for what...20 years? So lost childhood...lost teen years...what else can I add to that. Is it going to be the lost 20 some years? How could...I don't even know what the fucking question is. I'm so tempted to delete everything...who wants to listen to that shit. I couldn't even get through that without getting rageful.

Rage...there is a word...I can not only say it, but it was carved into my fucking arm. Lest I forget that feeling. Or when I'm driving...I can look at "die." That's a load of fun let me tell you. One big barrel of laughs. I'm laughing right now, can't you tell?

Oh fuckin' hell. You know it's an interesting night when I'm cussing up a storm, which I normally don't do. I guess...I'm just a wee bit frustrated. That definitely comes to mind. I'm a little upset, just a little. I have a hint of rage in there. Of which I constructed a dam...that is holding back sadness...grief...guilt...shame...and all of those other wonderful words. So...what exactly...does one do with all of these little tiny feelings. BEFORE I FREAKIN' EXPLODE.

Have a nice night.

7-19
Go me for Lithium test! By the way, I found out my most recent diagnosis (along with ADHD) :-)  296.63 Bipolar I Disorder, Most Recent Episode Mixed, Severe Without Psychotic Features. Phew...glad it wasn't with psychotic features :-)

7-19 - 9:15am
Hehe, in true Erin form...I found my Lab request for Lithium level...spilt mountain dew over half of it...oops. D-day time...

7-19 - 4:30am
A friend asked me the question tonight, "I don't understand how I can be in a different place...and still have these thoughts." A question I've asked for so long. It's so interesting being on the end to give advice...to things I wonder about. One of my counselors favorite tools in therapy to use against me...is if someone else was facing the same thing (especially kids), what would I do/say etc. It's the one I hate...because I will always care more about others, but not take the same advice for myself.  So my explanation to this one?

Suicide thoughts are there because at one point in our life, it WAS an option...thus when stress gets bad again...our mind and body reverts back to what it knew was there before...but as we get older...they will go further and further to the back of our mind and as we use other things to get on in our life. Okay...so not even a year ago...SI was an option...when stress came, when loss came, when your life was fucked up- you turned to SI...that was the first course of action- that is what both your mind and your body is used to...Finally, you learned other ways to heal, other ways to cope...and SI finally became not an option, the last option, however you have to retrain both your body and your mind that it isn't an option...that is going to take longer than six months... add in to that...you just brought up a new issues- your mind is screaming for the old best friend it knew...but YOU know better and are choosing different routes, so now the thoughts are there without the action and...one day...not even the thoughts will surface...as you get older, and time passes without it, but both of us...are still so close to the time we did do it...let's give our mind and body's time to heal eh?

"I don't understand....I don't understand how I can still want to die.....I don't understand how it can't be wrong to me....even when my life isn't that bad."  It's like you wanted to run before you even crawled, it's just like the SI...that was our escape, our way out...our first course of action, suicide...was not just an end to life because it was too horrible, it was a means to escape the pain, any kind of pain- even if we did have things to live for. SI and suicide is what we know...we can't un-learn it...just hope it fades with dis-use.

"Thats what I said last time....I signed myself in....I went through the hospital...I tried the meds...."
You are thinking the wrong way...instead of trying stuff and looking to keep going back ward...what about looking at what has worked to get you to this point...and what may continue to work. Look forward, not backward.  At some point you have to let go of the past and destruction and focus on the fact that you have a life, you aren't dead.

We are in very uncertain territory, nothing is set in stone, and we were given that thing called choices...and that is what we have as our weapon, our tool and we choose whether to use it or not...and unlike most wars...defeat is of our choosing...or we choose to win...no one else can decide that for us.
"I guess the problem is when I don't want those choices anymore."
It doesn't matter if you want them...we made the choice the day we self injured for the first time, or the day we decided to try and die, it was in that first step that we made the fight infinitely harder and we will live with that for the rest of our lives...the choices we make now...those choices we have to try and make things easier and undo what we did.

"I guess I can't imagine living through....everything that I've started bringing up..."

But you also didn't think you'd live to be 18, going to college... and think of it this way, you already lived THROUGH it...now it's time to process it...and make it your past so you don't have to live/think about it again. You want to make it disappear? Then let's do it...let's heal from it.

So those were just a small snapshot from our conversation. Pretty intense and heated. I still don't know the answer. Even when I held a blade to my arm and didn't cut...I can still sit here tonight and have an urge. How can I still have the urges, even when I know I won't actually be doing it? Is the thought itself needed right now? And then eventually I can get rid of that. Is it a process? It's a process I'm sick of. Like my friend, I'm tired of the choices. So sick and tired of them. But I made all of this a choice...when I took the blade some four years ago and dragged it across my wrist. And I'll hate myself for that for a long time to come...for making all of this so much harder. I know I didn't ask for or cause the abuse that happened to me as a child...but it was my hand that caused me abuse later on and kept causing it. I can't forgive myself for that. And that is what makes it sick...that I still want it. I whacked my head on a cabinet tonight...I did nothing to stop the blood, I just wanted to watch...and wanted to make it worse so badly. I am a very sick person indeed.

But most of all I'm a confused woman who has no idea what to do...two steps forward....how many steps will I be taking back? I'm so tired of the fight...yet I know I have to keep it up. I just want to see when it will end...what is the end product of all of this...when is it going to end? And can I make it to that point? I don't know. But it is nearing five am now...I need to put my mind to rest.

Night.

7-19 midnight
Have you ever searched so hard for an answer...without ever really knowing the question? I look every day for something...I search, I examine, I analyze...all trying to solve this puzzle that is my life. And there are pieces missing. But I don't have the luxury of having the box in front of me so I can see what the picture is going to look like. That's pretty annoying...especially since I really suck at putting puzzles together in the first place.

And that is the only metaphor I can pull out of my ass for now. Not bad, almost a whole paragraph! Must be tired. I just...I'm just tired on all fronts. Hell...I'm even tired of saying that I'm tired. I just feel stupid saying that again. I feel stupid saying, oh hey look- I'm still here- look what I survived. Just stupid. I don't want to survive anything. I don't want to remember jack shit...I don't want to have urges to harm myself...or urges to take the easy way out of things.

Tomorrow morning I decided to go get my Lithium blood levels drawn. I've been perfect on taking the Lithium for three straight days. So figured I'd be safe to take it. Then going to the pharmacy and pick up a Xanax prescription since I ran out, and I'm just about out of Lithium, need to get that too. Everything else I have more than enough I think. One of my kids cancelled for the morning, so I can do all of this. Then update and therapy for one of my little kiddos.

I ate fairly well this weekend...today I realized the value of left-overs. I was going to make something again but just out of energy, so warmed up the meal from the previous night. So I had a real meal and didn't even have to cook! Cool. I had NO energy at all this weekend...the only thing I could do was sleep and put myself in front of the TV. Weird. And I think it was my body rebelling. I had deprived it of sleep for quite sometime...so I slept literally all weekend. I didn't even stir until about eleven hours into sleep. And even when I did wake up...I couldn't function worth shit. Was able to eat and keep my body fed...so I didn't feel too nauseous. But, I wonder if one of the side effects of Lithium is my inability to concentrate on reading. I've been trying to read all night (and yesterday too) and I just can't do it. I read that a few people have had this reaction. Or maybe it's exhaustion or some other reason...I don't know.

Well, I was going to try to write some "big thoughts" up here tonight, but I got nothing. Just can't tap into it. I'm talking to a good friend online right now, and I think that is about all I'll be able to do.

Oh, (string of many, many cuss words). Night.

7-18
I went to bed at about 4:30am...and got up around 3:00pm. My kind of day. Got up, did some stuff on the net...then, ran to the grocery story, and check this out: I cooked. Yes, indeed I did. Garlic and herb tenderloin, some rice, some veggies- and you've got a meal. Made my roommate happy lol. He said he was glad to see someone finally actually cooking in the house. I told him not to get used to it. Tomorrow's menu is some fried up chicken with my favorite spices. And NO I'm not enjoying this...just felt like doing something nice for my body for once, since I've treated it like crap for so long. It's thanking me, I do not feel nauseous today.

So after dinner I went to a local concert...had to watch it indoors since it rained, would have been nicer outside...but still. The band was very awesome, I like them a lot. A cross between celtic and folk music. My favorites. And then I was inspired when I got home. Got out my Mandolin and played for a long while. It is freakin' hard to do chords I have decided. I  can play them individually, but then you have to switch! And I can't do that without like a five second delay...how do people do it? Then...finally...I got the nerve to pick up my violin. Which has two working strings...I sorta broke the other two I had (it's been a while since I've strung it up!)...but I played the two strings.

The power that went through me, gave me shivers. It had been six, maybe seven years since I had put that bow to that violin and played. And it was gorgeous, it was beautiful...oh I how I missed it! So tomorrow I am going to try and find a music store open and get those two strings again...and find some music to play too. My fiddle is pretty freakin cool. Now I'm excited again. I was afraid for a long, long time...but now I'm in to it. I think I can re-learn the violin, but I think I will have to go to some private lessons for the Mandolin. I just really don't know anything about a fretted instrument. I can look at the pictures and read how to do it, but I have a billion questions! Fretted instruments are much different from my good ole violin.

So the laptop is on my lap, violin in front of me, Mandolin next to me, music playing- pretty cool if you ask me!

I heard the song Rain by Patty Griffin a lot today. I just kept playing it over and over again. It made me feel so sad. So very sad. So then I'd throw on Give Me An Ocean to make it worse. And Ask Me, Letters to Emily...all the big sad ones. I was hoping I'd cry, but I knew better than to hope for that. But I did want to just sit there and be sad.

Okay, it's now about an hour later after I wrote the above. Just was chillin', I went for a drive in the rain and listened to music. There is just something very cool about hearing the song Rain in the car while you are driving in the rain. Made me tap into emotion even more.

I realized something while I was driving. Despite the recent hell I have been going through, despite just being two/three months out of the hospital...despite the night terrors, the nausea and just the incredible hardships I've been going through...this has still been one of my favorite summers. Why? How in the world could that have happened?? Several reasons. I get to just work with the kids (no school) and I love that...I am working on a great paper with my favorite professor, I am seeing at least one music show a week, I am volunteering at a local river advocacy group and making new friends, I am learning two instruments...and I live in a house in the town that I love. I've been more apart of this site and the message board than I ever have been, and that has been so great. I don't feel depressed nor manic...I feel just right. So you see, despite everything...I can still smile...still enjoy the day...the fact that I am still alive.

Sure, I can list the bad stuff to- the memories, the nightmares, the nausea and just general ill feeling, the feelings of exhaustion, the urges returning...the daily fight I have to engage in. But...you put that up against the good stuff...and then you know why I am alive and kickin' today...you will know why I am not depressed...but instead just going through a rough time.

Yes indeed...this time is different. And for every winter...there still stands an invincible summer inside me. This little ball of light that sits just next to my heart and though at times it may dim and I seem to have been over taken by the dark...it is there, always. Haha, even when I don't want it there- that's when my brilliant stubborn counselor shows me that it is still there (haha, probably shines her Maglite). And anytime it may begin to extinguish it, she lights it again. You know, that stubborn part.

Okay...am tired now. Took Seroquel.

Night all.


7-16
Alright, another day down. I think I would consider this to be a good day. As I promised, I went to sleep last night around midnight with Seroquel’s help. I woke up at 8 first, but was like, ahhh I can sleep until 9 (I had a 10am therapy session). So then at 9, I woke up…and was like…well it only takes a five minute drive to get there, I can sleep for another half hour. So at 9:30 I woke up…and was like…hmm…I can sleep for another ten minutes. Finally at 9:45, I pulled on some clothes, brushed my teeth and rushed out the door…only five minutes or so late, phew. Probably worth the extra sleep.

Session went…(choosing words carefully)…well. My counselor was especially challenging today…particularly about daily living habits. Which are improving. And she did manage to find out one little secret of mine. See, for as long as I have been alive, everyone has always thought I couldn’t cook. Mainly because I burn things…but it is always due to inattention…something catches my eye or ear, and I forget I’m cooking. Once in a blue moon I’d pull something out of my ass and everyone just thought it was a fluke hehe.

But (grudgingly admitting), 21 years of watching my mom cook (she is like a Martha Stewart), well…lets just say you don’t watch someone for twenty some years and not learn something.

Counselor: So when you were little what was it like at dinner time
Me: Well…we had to all sit down, mom cooked big meal, we cleaned up.
Counselor: Uh, huh….and you can’t cook.
Me: NO, I CAN’T cook (caps for emphasis).
Counselor: Can’t…or won’t.

She had me there somewhat lol. I was so dead.

Me: Okay, so I learned a few things after twenty some years watching her prepare food. So it’s more like I don’t want to spend the time making a dinner that will take ten/twenty minutes to eat and a half hour to clean up. Makes no sense to me.

So I thought that made sense, end of story, frozen food better. Or so I thought.

Counselor: So when you have kids (I knew I was dead then), are you going to cook for them?
Me: Yes, of course!
Counselor: So, you will care enough about your kids to cook them a good meal…but you don’t want to care enough about yourself to take care of you.

Oops. So guess who is going grocery shopping tomorrow? But hey, these pizza rolls and broccoli taste great. Frozen food is still convenient. I figure maybe I’ll cook like once a month, the rest of the time I will find some nice, healthy frozen food. Because  I ca…won’t cook.

So that was that. I was thinking more about that vicious circle I keep finding myself in. I guess in part…it’s because half the time I just haven’t made up my mind.  Yes, I know the death and destruction that lies behind me. But, remember, staying in a depression is infinitely easier than crawling out of one.

So this is what bothers me. A simple act such as eating, or sleeping is a…FIGHT! Basic human needs are a fight for me. That is sick and twisted and I don’t like it. I should be able to lay my head down at night and sleep. What’s so freakin’ hard about that? I should be able to look at food and want to eat it. I shouldn’t even mind the time it takes to cook a “real” meal. But I can’t even get to that point, first I have to conquer- is that food going to make me sick.

So when you look at it…if meeting basic human needs is such a fight for me…what in the world awaits me outside of that. Some pretty intense and hard fighting, that’s what. And you fight and you fight and you fight…and just one day you wake up…and it is just too much fighting. And that is when you look at the road you’ve traveled, you look back to what is known and wonder if it is just easier to stay there.

But, if you are like me….you have this stupid stubborn side and this brilliant stubborn counselor to go with it…and you see the road ahead of you and the road to your left and right…nothing but fog, the unknown. So your stubborn counselor looks at you and says, “here take my Maglite.” My stupid stubborn self sarcastically smiles because she knows that flashlights don’t work in the fog ;-) However…it was a nice gesture. So again…I’m looking at the fog. And I have to continue to step forward in it and have faith that it is the right way.

As I take each step, only one step is visible in front of me, if that. So I have to use faith to keep me going. I have to have faith that my next step is the right one. So where is that faith coming from? What gives me the faith to keep moving?

I guess several things come to mind. First…I DO know the path behind me and it is a path of destruction, no matter how easy. So going forward has got to be better than what I left. And I guess only one other thing comes to mind…my counselor. Not sure if she’s ever been wrong…and she has led me here. If she thinks moving forward is a good idea, than it must be. I followed her out of a depression, I might as well follow her all the way to good times. What else do I have to go on?

I do believe in God…but as someone noticed…I’m lacking a certain faith, a certain trust…that He is leading me in the right direction. I am more of the opinion that he is putting certain people in my life to make sure I go in the right direction. Three people come to mind. My guidance counselor from high school- she…saved me then, gave me the first opportunity to trust someone, really trust them with secrets. And that saved my ass. My professor at my college, who I’ve known since I was a freshman. She really has kept me going all these years, not sure how, but she does. Just kinda like a silent (okay she’s not silent lol) driving force. And of course…my counselor. Who is the reason I am alive today, and I am moving forward.

So yes, there is a God…but I don’t see that He was there in my pain, I don’t see where He was when I put a blade to my skin, I don’t see where He was when everyone I ever cared for left me. I know the whole story of “footsteps” and how God carried that guy in his time of need…but I just…can’t have faith in that. Partly because I was an atheist for so long…partly because- I almost did commit suicide on numerous occasions. By that point…hadn’t I had enough despair to last a life time? Hadn’t I learned enough lessons? Hadn’t I had enough? Even though I was saved from that…despair did not end there. So yeah…there is something missing from my faith…maybe one day I’ll get that back…but right now I need to be certain of things to get me through and I’m not certain about that.

And yeah…I have a lot of trouble with trust…as most of you all have seen. Everyone I have ever loved or cared for has left me in some way. Everyone. And I don’t know how I can have relations with people even now, because I am so afraid that it won’t last…that I can’t trust them. My trust is…well it’s not given out lightly. And I can count on one hand the amount of people that even just have a little bit of it. And I wonder what in the hell is going to happen if those people leave. I’m so tired of the people that are going…I’d rather concentrate my efforts only on the people interested in staying. I’m sick and tired of investing energy into relationships where they only leave. And that has left me basically alone…but I’m alright with that, for the most part is on my terms. I don’t want pretending, I don’t the superficialness…and other stupid crap. And I want to be able to trust. I just don’t know how. It’s not something I exactly learned. It still has yet to be learned. And faith that relationships will work out…don’t make me laugh.

So here’s lonely little Erin, pounding out her thoughts…and it’s funny, Give Me An Ocean playing…I love the line, “love gave to me a promise it could not keep.” Great stuff. Explains things perfectly.

And am I still numb? For the most part yes…but I am now getting a tinge when I hear Give Me An Ocean, again. So that is progress I suppose. I guess…I just have all of this “shit” in front of me…it’s out of me…and now I’m trying to figure out what to do with it all. It all impacts me in some way. Perhaps I should just start to pick up pieces and go through them one by one and fix the impact they have had on my life? Maybe. I just don’t know, don’t have the answer.

Okay it’s late and I’m tired (HA, won’t hear me say that that often). I just finished reading a book for therapy and written a commentary on it. It was good, but I just don’t feel like talking about it right now. I think my mind is yelling at me to go to bed.

Night

7-14
Well, what exactly does one say, after everything has been said? I’ve written until I’m blue in the face. I’ve typed as fast as my little fingers would take me. I’ve analyzed, I’ve thought, I’ve written, I’ve analyzed some more. So what’s left?

I have lost much of the feelings I had been feeling. As I’ve said before…I feel like a balloon deflated. And I just feel like I have nothing left. I mean, I still have stuff up there in my head…but it feels like anything that was unguarded or not guarded well- that is all out there now. What remains is the stuff that I keep in an air tight, locked container. And I don’t know if I will ever know how to access that. It’s hard enough finding the words to talk about things I let out.

I’m sure it doesn’t help that my living habits have basically sucked. The things I do to myself…and sometimes I don’t even know why. Things just happen once…and then they happen again, and the next thing I know, things are spiraling out of control. And it’s a vicious circle I keep leading myself into.

My body is raising the white flag right now. It is sick and tired of me hurting it. My stomach…that must be quite a mess. I’m hungry, but the thought of food makes me nauseous. I take my meds, and then puke them up. The thought of taking meds, makes me nauseous. Which I guess is part of my non-compliance. But I was reading and researching a few things tonight. I do take a lot of meds, it’s true. And hopefully one day I’ll whittle it down…but for now, these seem to be working. But…I’ve thrown caution to the wind one too many times. Especially with Lithium. As much as I know about Lithium, you would think I’d be more careful. I know that when my diet changes…if my water intake changes, or if I change the doses…my levels will get off. And my diet did change, my water intake did change. And so I do wonder if many of my symptoms that I have been having is due to the levels being way off in my body. Based on what I’ve been doing to it…I don’t doubt it. So for the last few days, I’ve been doing well with it…because next week I’m going in to get my levels checked…it’s time to see where it stands.

So my body is done with me…it just wants me to get it straight. It’s like…I destroyed my body and now I’m picking up the pieces again. And it’s a long and hard process…and takes some high level of dedication…of the likes I have never committed to. And why…have I continued to not heed warnings…to treat my body in this manner? I’m not a hundred percent sure…or maybe I just don’t like the answer.

And, so here I am again. The same old story, the same old song to sing. Actually kind of pissed at that. Around and around in a circle I go. After a while…that becomes old. I suppose I’ve come out of that circle every once in a while…but I drag myself back in. I’m curious about that...why do I keep dragging myself back in? As much as I know, as much as I’ve learned, as much as I don’t like the circle…I go back again and again and again. Now that is one question I’d like the answer to.

I know I have turned corners. You all saw my fight with self injury…a fight I won hands down. But I guess I will always wonder if I will win the fight. Like in my head it’s like…well next time... So then I am like- Does there have to be a next time? When will the next time’s stop? As I said before…I don’t awake each morning and wonder if I will fight…I awake each morning and wonder how hard I will have to fight.

And so I’ve arrived at this point. I’m standing in the middle of this journey and I am wondering where to go from here. I look back, and see the good points and bad points. I look forward…and I see its bad points and good points. I look left and right…and see alternatives shrouded in mystery. Every way is a mystery…well except the path behind me. I have traveled that road…and it’s gotten me here. And I know if I were to turn back now…it would lead all the way down and there would be no coming back. So I suppose my vision should remain forward or left or right. But still…what I left behind, there are enticing points to it. But, lucky for me…I have this thing called choices.

Those are basically my thoughts for now. Standing in the middle of the path, looking up and screaming basically. Where do I go from here? What is next? What in the hell is going on with me? Can I pick up the pieces? Is this a journey worth taking?

I suppose I do know the answer to the last question. But I still like to pose it in my mind…since I’m the questioning sort. I will rest my thoughts for now. I have some sleeping to do. Since I don’t do it often…right now I just feel like laying down and putting on my favorite music. I don’t know if I’ll sleep. I am not sure if I will use Seroquel. My fear in using the meds is that…I am so tired, it’s been so long since sleep…that it will super dose me and I won’t be able to function tomorrow. And I do want to function…not only for my kids…but I myself have therapy tomorrow…and I don’t want sleep to screw that up. So we’ll see how it goes. If by midnight I am not near sleeping, I’ll dose up. So let’s hope I will be asleep by then.

Night.

7-13
Well…it’s one of those excruciating nights again. I accidentally ran into something and started to bleed…and that is all I needed to be triggered majorly. When I went to inspect my wound…I jumped back from the mirror because of flashbacks…and I was super triggered.

Luckily a friend was online at the time, thanks Shelly, and talked to me some. That helped some. And then I picked up my Mandolin and tried practicing a bit. That worked for a while.

Then I puked my guts out…again. I think it was from meds. Since I’m not always compliant with meds…with one of them, starting back on full dose was NOT a good idea. At least I think that was it.

You know…I’m so tired. I’m tired of all of these flashbacks…I’m tired of taking medication to make me okay, I’m tired of the medication making me sick…I’m tired of having these urges…they tear me apart. You want to know what it’s really like on a bad night? I do have blades with me…sitting right next to me. I know I shouldn’t have them, but I do. Almost like a test…will I or won’t I? Can I stand this test? I even take one out and finger it, spin it around…almost like a taunt. Sometimes I put it to my skin, but do not drag it…instead I remember all the times I did drag it and I look at the scars that were created. I can remember each and every cut. I remember the time I was so angry that I covered literally every inch of my left forearm. I was not satisfied until there was a cut covering the entire area. Another time I cut so much and so deep that I was laying on the floor, half passed out…when my roommate found me. I remember, I remember, I remember. Can’t remember my stupid childhood…but I remember those. Hell I can even remember the feelings associated with them.

And so I’m tired. I’m tired of working so hard…so hard just to live. I have to wake up every day and wonder not if I’m going to fight, but how hard I will have to fight. I know if I knew how hard I had to fight now…I would have made sure my first overdose was permanent. It was hard enough living through my past…but now to live through this. This near constant bombardment of pain. And for what? For what? I drive myself to the edge and then taunt myself to go over. I go to the edge of the cliff and look over and wonder…is it worth it to take the leap…where will that get me? Is it the beginning of a downfall…or just a slip along the journey…three steps forward, two steps back instead of just one.

I look down at my hands…and know the damage they can cause…the damage they want to cause. It’s sick…it’s not enough the my abusers hands caused so much, but now…they’ve helped to turn my own hands against me. But still…it remains my choice to use them in that manner. At the end of the day…it is me that chooses to use them or not…no one but me is holding that blade.

And that is why I can set it down. I could take that blade and put it against the flesh…and not slide it…not cause pain or blood or scars. What a fight, to instead choose to lift it up and put it down. You want to know the fight- that is the fight, that it can get all the way to that point…AND STILL PUT THE BLADE DOWN. If that doesn’t prove the power of the choice…then I don’t know what does.

I want to slide it so bad that it hurts. Honestly, half the time I don’t know what keeps me from not doing it. I don’t know where that strength is emerging from. To not do it…to come that close and still be able to choose. I can honestly say, that I can go as far as you can go…and still not do it. I am exerting full control, right down to the wire. Just because I have the blades, just because they are in my hand, does NOT mean that I have to do it. And it hurts so bad…my scars begin to burn. I look at them and see nothing but sadness…nothing but anger. Nothing but a broken girl that was trying to find her way.

But somehow I am not that girl anymore, but an emerging woman, who has found her way…and that doesn’t include making more memories of pain, making more scars. It does include a woman who is tired…a woman coming to grips with her mental health and what it takes to be well…a woman just stumbling along the path, but still moving forward. A rider…riding out the waves, the urges, the impulsiveness.

Sleep…is elusive, I want it but I don’t. Tonight I will choose to sleep…Seroquel will be taken. I don’t trust myself through the whole night…so sleep it is. It is an alternative. My head hurts from throwing up and my stomach is in knots. I am a mess tonight. But still…I made it.

It’s laid down…the choice has been made. I don’t know how or why…but it was my choice…just like it always was.

7-12
Was emailing a friend tonight and talking to another. And the thoughts about feelings and numbness came up. And I've realized a few things.

I have now entered “blah” stage. I hate it. I could control my defenses for a while…but now I can’t feel anything, I can’t think…I can’t do anything, but go through the motions. The only reason I can think…my defenses switched to automatic to protect me. I hate it, I hate it…as weird as it sounds…even having nightmares and feeling pain was better than feeling numb again. It’s the numbness that killed me before…not the feelings. As much as I curse the feelings…they do keep me alive- because it is with them that I KNOW I’m alive. But it’s true. So not sure what to do to make myself feel again.

And that is why feelings...no matter how bad or painful...how intense or how strange they may be...that is why they are better...than not feeling at all. When I don't feel- I am that much closer to self injury, that much closer to death. When I don't feel...it makes it so much easier to want to die. It makes it easy to justify cutting...well I don't feel and I need to, so sure, SI would give me feelings.

But that is all bull shit...for as long as I self injured, I would NEVER feel...because the pain was displayed on the skin...rather than words. If I don't do it, then maybe I will feel...just need to figure that out. Just need to figure that out!!

Ugh...okay done now. Can't type- I can't feel my fingers- they are tingly. I think there is a reason why I take 300mg of Lithium in the morning and then 600mg at night...instead of all 900mg at once...causes this!

Oh well...it's about 4:30am...should probably rest now. Night.

7-10
Well, as someone remarked to me…I may have been on my knees this past week, but I still fought. How or why, I do not know. As always, there were two parts to me. The one part said that I was sliding backwards and I might as well give up now, it’s not worth the fight. But the other, and apparently stronger part of me, told me it would all be worth it, so keep going, keep fighting…and the joy at the end of this journey will be worth any hell that I had to walk through. So with this battle going on in my head. I went to see my counselor the other day.

She put the fight back in me. Took me from ambivalent (good word apparently ;-)) to making a choice. And of course, being me…I made the strong and challenging choices. I took a stand on things. She asked if we should pull back on certain issues…but I said no. We need to do this now…or it will be that much harder later down the road. I know I wasn’t stable recently, but I’m getting back on my feet. Screw not being stable. There is a line I’ve drawn…and I have not crossed it and will not.

And like I’ve said before…suicide was taken off the table. Sure, I can talk about it...sometimes wish for it…but honestly…it doesn’t hold the same appeal to me…it simply is not an option. And neither is self injury. So that means I need to get the rest of my life to fall into place.

I am walking through hell right now. I don’t want the memories and nightmares. But I know if I don’t face it…if I don’t walk this walk…then that means more trouble down the road. Think about it- bad stuff as a child…and still I have to go through it- I want it over with…not drawn out.

And so I was called a spitfire today lol…hmm I told my counselor she was annoying today…and she said I was irritating lol…so we had a great session (no that is not sarcasm, I’m serious). She pushed me and I pushed back. Luckily she pushes harder. And I did open up so… I did have flare-ups of emotion. Which is not typical of me- so that was good.

What was weird- at several points I did almost cry…I knew it was coming…but in the end they would not fall- I’d laugh…and with the laughing I could stop it. And my most brilliant counselor with her own eyes welling up... pushed me even closer. I had to look away. And find something not so hurtful to talk about. And laugh.

You know my defenses are sky high when I am laughing the whole time. But at times…I did get mad at whatever I was talking about. Like friends and abandonment…or my mom. Or having to go through all this. I have plenty I can be angry at. Now I just need to learn what to do with that anger…because clearly, I’m not doing it well lol.

So her session gave me what I needed again…a second chance to pull myself up and out of this. She pushed my buttons, as she often does, but she knows the ones to push to keep me fighting. And she knows my love of music, and therefore told me about a band playing a hour north of here.. I had seen them play once and loved them.

It was an hour drive, but I told her I was going- I needed this. And I did. And for over four hours...I smiled the entire time, I laughed, I talked music with people...and was touched by the music. And that was...just no words can explain it.

So, I may have still been crawling when I got there, but when I left I was standing and ready for a fight. During the drive home…I told myself I would take Seroquel and go to sleep. And I did just that. I slept…for the first time in pretty much over 7 days.

And previously in the day, I finally went grocery shopping…went to the frozen food sections…but did not buy pizza rolls- taking my counselors advice…Got some frozen veggie’s (I don’t cook fresh food lol). And some breakfast food.

As hard as it was to do that…I had my counselors voice in my head…and I know without a doubt she was right. That’s a funny thing…when you trust someone more than anything or anyone. She is the only one I trust like that right now. And I’ve had two years to know…she is right a lot of the time lol.

And so I’m working on the change again. If I am unstable right now with what we are talking about…then I need to get my body at least healthy- fed and if I can sometimes, sleep. Maybe then I will have even more strength.

Am I still on my knee’s ? I was when I went to the concert…but when I left…I was standing. And you KNOW how hard it is to just get me on my knees…so that won’t be happening for a while, if again.

Here's a song that the singer dedicated to me also while I was at the concert. Thought that was pretty cool.

"You've been taken by the wind
You have known the kiss of sorrow
Doors that would not take you in
Outcast and a stranger

You have come by way of sorrow
You have come by way of tears
But you'll reach your destiny
Meant to find you all these years

You have drunk a bitter wine
With none to be your comfort
You who once were left behind
Will be welcome at love's table

You have come by way of sorrow
You have come by way of tears
But you'll reach your destiny
Meant to find you all these years

All the nights that joy has slept
Will awake to days of laughter
Gone the tears that you have wept
You'll dance in freedom ever after

You have come by way of sorrow
You have come by way of tears
But you'll reach your destiny
Meant to find you all these years

You have come by way of sorrow
You have come by way of tears
But you'll reach your destiny
Meant to find you all these years"

That song always hits home. So yeah...I'm here- AGAIN. You know, you all are probably sick of these, "I am stronger" messages lol. But hell...I am still here, you know. Standing...and fighting.

7-9
It's amazing what the human mind and body can endure. I have not slept in over a week...other than an hour here and an hour there. Yet I am functioning fine. Even went to a meeting this morning and after no sleep, was still sharp.

Add in that I really haven't eaten all...really lost a lot of weight...dangerously. I should be dropping down from weakness, from fatigue...but somehow I don't.

Maybe this is indicative of my mental fight? I'm getting beaten down, I was beaten down...sometimes I feel like I'm drowning and can't come up for air. You all have seen me at the depths of despair. When I was so sure I was going to die. When I was so sure I was going to cut.

But I'm here...without both of those things. Somehow I am still here and functioning. Despite the abuse, despite the no childhood, despite the self destructive things I've done to myself.

This week has been pure hell for me. Pure torture. And yet...here I am writing a post titled it's amazing. I should be yelling, crying or cutting right now...based on what's happened to me this week. The things I've said, the things I've seen...the nightmares that haunt me.

But holy shit...I'm here and standing...well not standing-  I am on my knee's begging for mercy. I live by the fact that I will see my counselor at 12:00...to know that someone can help me really make sense of all this. I live by the fact that I have you guys...who love me when I'm in my darkest hour and lift me up. I live by the fact I am me. Who apparently is one stubborn, plucky...and determined woman. That is one aspect of my personality I can never get rid of...and because of it...I have lived.

So it's amazing...what you can survive.

7-9
How I feel:

Pharmaceutical wonders are at work
but I believe only in this moment
of well being. Unholy ghost,
you are certain to come again.

Coarse, mean, you'll put your feet
on the coffee table, lean back,
and turn me into someone who can't take the trouble to speak; someone
who can't sleep, or who does nothing
but sleep; can't read, or call
for an appointment for help.

There is nothing I can do
against your coming.

When I awake, I am still with thee.
Credo- Jane Kenyon

"We try a new drug, a new combination
of drugs, and suddenly
I fall into my life again
like a vole picked up by a storm
then dropped three valleys
and two mountains away from home.

I can find my way back."
Back- Jane Kenyon

"Often the test of courage is not to die but to live."

"Abuse victims are always the best actors. They have to be, to live their whole lives with the pain and shame, pretending there is nothing wrong. It's the greatest performance of all."

"The turning point in the process of growing up is when you discover the strength within you that survives all the hurt."

"The salt inside my body ruins
Everyone I come close to
My hands are barely holding up my head
Oh I'm so tired of looking at my feet
And all the secrets that I keep
My heart is barely hangin' by a thread
Hangin' by a thread"

"I can't figure out how to live in the world after preparing to give up for so long, how I'd gone to the edge and thrown all of my tools over, how the choices involved with living overwhelm me, how I just need to lie down on the old unit and rest for a little while until I feel ready to move back into my body."

"And it has occurred to me since that perhaps what we call depression isn't really a disorder at all but, like physical pain, an alarm of sorts, alerting us that something is undoubtedly wrong; that perhaps it is time to stop, take a time-out, take as long as it takes, and attend to the unaddressed business of filling our souls."

"I did not go to therapy to understand, or to get through, an episode. I needed to understand and get through my life."

7-9
Well...it has begun again. At about 6:00 I felt myself getting warm- temp. at 99.5 five. About ten minutes ago at 7:45 it was 99.8. This is bizarre...and I now consider my body crazier than me.

So today was interesting. I wondered how it would play out after my super thoughts. Didn't get but maybe two hours of sleep, so I was just...exhausted. Mentally exhausted because I laid just about everything out last night- thoughts poured out of me, mostly unhindered. So now, I'm digesting it all. Honestly, I hardly remembered what I wrote, had to go back and read.

But anyway...I saw my one kid with Asperger's...and for most the session it went very well, he's making good progress. But one area he has trouble with is emotions (go figure...that's why we get along lol)...and we did some emotion cards and making faces etc. I was so happy because he was participating. But the aftermath was not so good...rest of session went badly- he got super, super emotional. My heart went out to him- I knew how hard it was...so that was just hard. But on a good note, I think it was progress...I learned that I needed to tread a little more lightly with the emotions, go a little slower, and bring it in slowly.

So then I had a half hour to my next kiddo...so most of the way there I was questioning my skills as a therapist and all that jazz. My sweet little girl that I work with, didn't help much. When I walked in the door, she said she didn't want to work, had some tears etc. However, after about twenty minutes to a half hour- she was good as gold...really doing good work...and my saving grace lol. She seems to bring that out in me, even when I'm feeling like shit. She made me a bead thing for my key chain a few sessions ago...picking pink because she knew it was least favorite color (she's very good at sarcasm...go figure). And I have it on my key chain and will never get rid of it. Every time I have my keys, it makes me smile and I hold it a little tighter. And a smile is good these days.

So parts of today were okay, some parts weren't. Was still angry at times. And most of the day I hated life...still hate it. I'm just very angry...about what happened, about the people, about myself...and right now just about everyone.

You know, some part of me (okay a big part of me) wants to go back to denial...forget everything that happened. It is too painful to remember and obviously causing problems- no sleep, little food, flashbacks, nightmares, maybe fever is related. Part of me- just...just wants to forget...doesn't want to go through it anymore. Stop all mental health stuff, stop therapy. But then, that would be like my past. Abandoning things and people before they have the chance to abandon me.

Then, the now small part of me, wants to proceed further. Get everything out, remember everything, ride this out. Learn, understand, experience. And hopefully one day cry...sleep without nightmares...and not hate life so much.

Hmm, listening to "Give Me An Ocean" by Julie Miller...I don't know what it is about that song...it speaks to me...and actually gets me close to crying (yup, I'm listening to it constantly). It is a sort of sad song, but a song reaching out too. And I guess that is how I feel right now. Just feel so...beaten. If that makes any sense. Beaten, tattered and torn. Broken. Exhausted and tired in every way.

Sigh. Big sigh. Ugh, just took advil- body automatically wants to reject it. Like all my pills. But I've been good- I got one of those 'old people's' pill thing that has the days and nights. So now I can keep track of the pills...but also keep track of the ones I've missed. I've been pretty good this week. All my pills are taken from Monday on...except forgot Concerta on Tuesday. So not too bad. I had half a sandwich and some little chef borordee thing. Not too shabby. Plus I've had to add Advil sometimes, really bad back pain sometimes...and headache with the fever. Dumb body.  And I'm looking at my forearms...don't know if it's my imagination...but they seem smaller.

See my body is dumb. For acting like it is now...for acting the way it did in the past. I want a new one. Ugh.

Okay...so the biggest event of the night...was pretty big. There is a friend of mine (internet, met through my site), and we've known each other for about two years on and off. Been through rough times and made it. Well she has been struggling, as I have with sexual abuse stuff. Painful to remember...worse to speak of it out loud. While I have answered yes to the question, "have you ever been sexually abused," my friend has not. But she has to me in our conversations. Tonight, in an effort to both help her and myself...I asked her if she wanted to talk more about it. She was scared...so I said I would share and then she would share etc. It got a lot out of us...and one thing in particular that I have told no one- not written about it, not told my counselor- no one. But I did put words to it tonight. That was so hard, my hand was shaking over the key board. I don't know how to share it again. And maybe that's why I don't sleep. If I slept I might have more nightmares, and I can't take them anymore because they are getting worse and more detailed. And so...I get an hour here, and hour there...and that is it. I am still functioning...though I don't know how.

I've written a ton, been glued to my laptop. I've been the most active ever in my message board. And posting things I never would have posted. But I've learned the value in reaching out. And the support I have received has been immense. Incredible really. I know I am not completely alone...I have so many people here, online...something I hadn't quite realized. And while it may seem weird, I do have friends. The alone feelings come from the lack of any physical presence. I can't just call someone up and say let's go to the movies. And what I hate is there are so many people here that I know would do just that, it'd be great. But some of my closest friends are states away. That just bites.

There are several things my message board has shown to me. First that people care-really care. Second, in my struggles they do find strength. They do see me struggle so hard...but I do make it. They are part of the reason I do make it. Part of me doesn't want to let them down...I'm called the role model there. I must make it, not only for myself, but for them. The great and honest things my members have said to me...incredible. They do look up to me so much, want my opinions...and gain strength from all that I do. What an effect to have on people...and so many!! When I started this site and then a year later the message board...I never imagined the effect it would and could have on people. It has grown so much...and meant so much to so many people. I take a step back...and do say wow. This site has actually touched people...it has actually helped people to stop cutting. Someone told me tonight she had been cut free for six months, thanks to the site and boards. And there have been many more. This site isn't just a site...it means something. And I'm glad to have been a part in it's creation (okay the only creator and manager lol). So there, my one compliment for the night.

I'm still...a mess. My head is filled with nothing but bad things. While I want them out, at the same time I don't...because I don't want to talk. It is far too painful. Far too much hurt. But at the same time- I'm not sleeping, nor eating well...every night since Tuesday I've had a temperature ranging from about 99.8 to somewhere over 101 degrees. Don't know what the hell is up with that, but it is beginning to bother me. Just seems like things are falling apart, that my worst nightmare is coming true- that I am falling backwards.

Not too mention the fact I don't want these memories in my head. I want them back in the, 'do not remember box.' Remembering seems to be driving me nuts. As I stated what is going on above. I know they are not unrelated- I'm not that dumb, nor in that much denial anymore. I just wish there was an easier way to get through all of this. No one told me it would be this hard...wish they might have. Maybe then I could have chosen what I wanted to do. But then again, at that stage in my life...if I knew exactly how hard it would be...I would most likely be dead.

But still...choosing to remain fighting...to keep on choosing life...it is a very, very hard decision to make. It's saying that you will go forward, you will remember, you will talk about it, you will get it all out...and that you will endure nightmares, endure nights without sleep, endure the torment of every day life sometimes. And it's saying that you promise to have the strength to endure all of that.

But what I failed to realize was how tired I'd get. How I could feel my strength waning...that this would test every once of strength I had...and to keep going even when I felt I didn't have strength. And keep going even when you hate life. And that's what I hate about myself strangely enough. That I am willing to go through all this and not take the easy way out. It really isn't my nature and because of that...hope saves my ass constantly (often through my counselor). And sometimes that makes me angry. So many times I wish...I wish people could have let me just die. And fall into nothingness and I wouldn't care about all the things I do now.

I guess at this point I should say don't worry- I did take suicide off the table. That has been interesting. Like I can still have ideation, but truly know I'm not going to do it. But at times I question- do I truly know? Or is it another delusion. Sometimes I don't know what is real, and what is twisted. I guess that is why I ask now. But I hate that too...that I don't know the difference. That my normal is far different from everyone else's normal. Why can't I just live life...really live it. Instead of having to go through the most painful experience of my life to get there. Haven't I gone through enough...honestly! Why is it that people who have been hurt so badly...it doesn't end when the abuse stops...sometimes it feels worse...to unravel, undo what had been done so long ago. We have to go through our own private hell, up in our minds...to somehow one day experience life. Not only do we get tormented as children...but it continues to lead us to being 'healed.'

So when does the torment stop. It seems never ending. Sometimes I can't see beyond the day I'm in...I know it will be a long night...I may or may not sleep...I don't know what will happen in my mind...but right now, mostly bad. And...like I said...I'm just tired...beaten...broken. I feel like I'm laying down...begging for mercy and just shouting, "what's next." And wondering if it will keep me going forward or if I will lose.

Where is my light...where is my hope that keeps me sane and keeps me going? How long will I have to fight? Do I have the strength to keep fighting? Just...so tired. Maybe because it's now 3:00am.

This song is dedicated to everyone who has questioned the way I live my life. It is my life and I'm living it the best way I know how.
Sometimes I may stumble...but I keep moving forward. "This is heaven to no one else but me/And I'll defend it as long as I can be/Left here
to linger in silence."
Yeah, that's about it...enjoy the lyrics- parts in bold are important to me.

I love the time and in between
The calm inside me

In the space where I can breathe

I believe there is a

Distance I have wandered

To touch upon the years of

Reaching out and reaching in

Holding out, holding in

I believe

This is heaven to no one else but me

And I'll defend it as long as I can be

Left here to linger in silence

If I choose to

Would you try to understand

I know this love is passing time

Passing through like liquid

I am drunk in my desire...

But I love the way you smile at me

I love the way your hands reach out and hold me near...

I believe...

I believe

This is heaven to no one else but me

And I'll defend it as long as

I can be left here to linger in silence

If I choose to

Would you try to understand

Oh the quiet child awaits the day when she can break free

The mold that clings like desperation

Mother can't you see I've got

To live my life the way I feel is right for me

Might not be right for you but it's right for me...

I believe...

I believe

This is heaven to no one else but me

And I'll defend it as long as

I can be left here to linger in silence

If I choose to

Would you try to understand it

I would like to linger here in silence

If I choose to

Would you understand it

Would you try to understand...
-Elsewhere, Sarah McLachlan