Drowning

I woke up yesterday and immediately knew something was off. I didn’t feel right. I couldn’t tie it to anything I’d done the day before. I’d gotten a decent amount of sleep. There was nothing glaringly obvious. I vaguely recalled having unsettling dreams and waking up in the middle of the night. By morning, I couldn’t remember a single detail.

As I got up and started my day, the feeling in my stomach persisted. I felt empty, like there weren’t any emotions in me. I did some errands that proved tedious as well as obnoxious. I went to the bank to get quarters for the laundry. I like to get four to six rolls at a time. I waited for over an hour only to be told I could only have one roll due to a change shortage.

This threw off a phone call to discuss an upcoming event I was planning. I let the person know I was running late and they said they too were not quite ready. That should have washed away the feeling of being rushed, but it didn’t. This string in me was being pulled taught because my plan was going as it should have. I was no longer empty. The emotions surged up as I pulled out of the Post Office parking lot.

I was stuck in a few years of depression and this event is a big deal for me. I have slowly been leaving the house again for reasons other than groceries. (And we’re talking pre-covid not leaving the house.) I didn’t choose an easy topic to create an event around, but it was something that mattered to me and I felt pulled by a higher power to do.

The phone call didn’t go well for me. My mind was scattered. The person on the other line seemed bothered with me. Sometimes I annoy my sister and I know why. I don’t mean to and as soon as I get the sense she is annoyed I stop. I’m able to identify what I’d doing. I know some of my annoying tendencies.

On the phone call, I didn’t know what I was doing to annoy the other person. Was it me? Were they also having a rough day?

I like to think about things before I make a decision. When I am having an off day, I like even longer to make decision. The person on the end of the line wasn’t feeling this. They wanted to move things along. My logical brain knew where this person was coming from and that we needed to move forward, but I couldn’t get my anxiety to push trough the need to think about every aspect of each decision being made.

I got off the call with the event going in a different direction and feeling OK about the progress. The person I’m working with took charge and gave me an action step. I felt bad because this event was my idea and the person supporting me wasn’t supposed to be leading the show. Did she want to lead? Did I force her into a position she didn’t want to be in? Did she regret agreeing to work with me on this event? Did she like me anymore?

I dove into my task when I hung up the phone, but couldn’t finish. I cried. I thought about scrapping the event. I couldn’t figure out why anyone would want to come to it. There are plenty of events out there similar to mine, so why would anyone want to participate. My idea was disjointed, without a clear purpose, and I was annoying my partner who might end up leaving me.

I kept crying. My therapist has told me to let it happen and ride the wave of tears versus fighting them. So, I did.

But they wouldn’t stop. All day I kept having bouts of tears. A day has passed and I’m crying while I type this.

I was angry that I felt this way. I was angry that I could wake up and feel like I wasn’t worthy of doing anything. That no one would care about what I had to say at the event. That I was going to embarrass myself. That I couldn’t reach out to anyone for help because no one wants to hear me complain.

I lost the day. I didn’t go anywhere besides the errands I’d already ran that morning. I was now trapped in my apartment because I couldn’t face the world. I couldn’t fake happiness or contentment. I had to suffer through the rest of the day as best I could, go to sleep, and try again tomorrow.

I’d lost a day. I hate losing days.

I am actively in therapy. I have a psychiatrist I pay a shit load of money to prescribe me pills that are supposed to help me. I’m doing all this shit, yet still losing days.

I went to bed last night terrified. Thursday, I felt on top of the world. I felt like me. Confident. Content. Happy with my life. Cuddly with my dog. Friday, I woke up a different person. What would Saturday hold?

I set my white noise machine for seven hours. That wasn’t long enough because I was woken up by the people upstairs being loud despite two conversations about specifically what they are doing to create the noise and how to manage it. I asked for them to be extra mindful before 7am. Is 7am too much to ask? Can their large dog not pick up large bones only to drop them over and over again on the floor right above my bed at 6am? Is that too much to ask on a Saturday?

I turned the white noise machine back one. I don’t think I slept anymore, but I rested a bit. When I finally decided to get up because I wasn’t sleeping, I said a prayer to the universe.

Please let today be better. Please let me be able to go to the BBQ I was invited to. Please let me be the Emily that can be around people and engage like the rest of them. Please let me not melt into the couch because to get off it seems akin to moving mountains. Please let me not lose another day.

I’ve been told I’m bipolar, have major depressive disorder, or just a generic mood disorder. I’m a disorder.

This is what that looks like. I don’t wish it upon anyone, but it would be nice to have someone who understands those days when you wake up and everything is wrong, and not in a minor way. In a debilitating way. I don’t reach out to anyone because my friends say things like “cheer up” or “go for a walk” or “why don’t you sew something” or “it will be better tomorrow” or “I know how you feel” or “just think positive thoughts.”

Do you know how I feel?

Will it be better tomorrow?

If I could cheer up, wouldn’t I have done so already.

I can’t get off the couch let alone make it to the sewing machine.

I’ve walked the dog twice today and I’m still sobbing into a kitchen towel.

I’ve lost control of my thoughts. All my coping techniques have escaped me and the shit in my head is overwhelming me.

So here we are. I walked the dog, sent some emails, did a load of laundry, sewed a new shape of mask, and typed this. I know I am better than yesterday, but the fear of losing this day is ever-present.

I’m scared and I don’t want to be.

Blood and Bone by Tara Brown

Yeah, I fell off. But I’m here now. I’m not going to even write about feelings. We are all up to our eye balls in emotions. There is nothing I have to offer that you can’t probably find online.

I’m going to take it old school and write about books. It took me a minute to get on the reading bandwagon. Many people in my FB book groups said they thought they’d sit around reading all the time since we had to stay at home, but didn’t. Most cited lack of focus as the problem. I rose my hand and said, “Yup. Same here.”

I wrote a post asking for book recommendations that weren’t apocalyptic/dystopian or too happy in hopes that would help. I couldn’t handle happy. I had two Emma Scott books on my TBR list and thought, “Oh noooo. That lady is the queen of making you cry then giving you a ridiculously happy ending.”

I’ve finally come to a place where I can burn my Sunday up binge reading a trilogy. And I found the right genre. The Mind Fuck.

The Blood and Bone trilogy by Tara Brown. OMG. Total Mind Fuck. I spent half the books unsure if I was in reality or not. Kinda like Never Never by Coleen Hoover. There is a distortion of reality going on with the characters and the reader is drug into it.

The MC is awesome! She works for some super-secret unnamed government agency. Sounds far-fetched, but her character is so bad ass it seems probable. She’s an assassin and very unapologetic about it. The point of the story is not that she change her ways. She is “an eye for eye” to the last page. I liked that about her and the way Tara Brown wrote her.

he was also  a bit fragile in private moments alone. The character wasn’t one dimensional. The reader gets to see that she has many sides to her and how life molded her into this person. She also has two different colored eyes that becomes critical to the story. Doesn’t make sense, right? That’s what is so cool about the whole series!

I def had a good amount of triggers and I don’t go too too dark with my romance. This series felt like it was often skirting the edge of my comfort level. Some may find it not a big deal at all. For me, I was always unsure if I could keep reading. It never went to a point that I had to put the book down. That skirted edge made the story much more compelling for me. Again, it may be chump change to some. If you can handle the Deliver series by Pam Godwin this will be nothing for you. I couldn’t handle that series which sucked because I like Pam’s writing quite a bit.

Anyhoo, there is a love story. It isn’t front and center, yet it was crucial to the story.  I’m putting the link below. It’s on KU if you have that. I can’t rave enough, but I have to go back to work. Booooo…..

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24862404-blood-and-bone

https://smile.amazon.com/Blood-Bone-Tara-Brown-ebook/dp/B00QBOD57E/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3J7CB1383ZIPJ&dchild=1&keywords=blood+and+bone+tara+brown&qid=1589478345&sprefix=blood+bone+tara%2Caps%2C165&sr=8-1

Winter, My Nemesis

I fell off the blogging wagon. Nothing I’ve written has been fit to put out into the world.

Lately, weekends excursions have consisted of grocery shopping and… grocery shopping.

I think many of us struggle in the winter. Going outside is a production of hats, scarves, boots, gloves, coats, and possibly a second pair of socks. It may not seem like a bit deal, but when you’re already depressed and don’t want to leave the house this is just one more barrier. 

It’s also cold (depending on where you live) and it seems easier to just stay inside where it’s warm. For me, this means my dog is the only interaction I get with a living creature. So, no actual human interaction. No one to talk with face to face.

Speaking of the dog, she isn’t getting long walks. They’re good for her, but they’re also part of my self-care plan. Being outside in nature makes me feel happy. I can’t explain why. Maybe it has to do with being surrounded by life. Maybe it’s not being cooped up in four walls. And if the sun is shining it’s even better. I tilt my face towards the light and full on bask.

I grew up in the Great Lakes region of the United States. It’s cold af around those parts. I grew up on the bad side of the Lake where lake effect snow is real and sucks. Sometimes we’d go weeks without seeing the sun. Even when I’ve lived in warm climates, I’d get depressed in the fall because I knew winter was coming. While living in Southern California, I got this hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach come October. It was still beautiful there, but I spent so long dreading winter that the fall became a traumatic event. 

Wherever you are, I hope the winter isn’t kicking your ass. And if it is, I hope you’ve not melted into the couch or bed. All my Great Lakes homies, you’re in my thoughts and daily meditations. Those of you at the top of WI and MI, I hope you still have all your fingers and toes! You guys are the definition of hardcore.