The Rash of Death

I flew back to the East Coast ( landing at BWI- Baltimore, my favorite cheapie airport) last weekend for a wedding in Northern Virginia, and got to visit some old friends/clients/"family" (kith), and do some shoots. It was a great weekend, very busy, but I had so much fun. It was definitely one of those weekends where I felt so incredibly grateful for the blessings my job as a photographer has had on my life. The opportunity to travel (even when my free time is so limited), and meet new people and see new things is amazing. As I dial back a little bit on the business as I continue to grow in my new field, I have been more able to recognize how precious this time is in my life. I am so grateful that I have been given this positive perspective, finally!

I am very excited to tell you all about DC and the friends I saw, but first, we need to get down to business. I have contracted the RASH OF DEATH.

What, pray tell is that?

I have no idea.

I spent Saturday an Sunday crawling around in the woods with different clients are various locations so it basically could be anything. When I got on the plane on Monday, I felt a little itchy, but nothing too bad- barely noticeable. Thought I had a mosquito bite.

Next morning at work, my leg looks like this:

Hmm... that's funny. Definetly a couple of scratches, but quite a few welts for it to be mosquito bites.


I slapped it with some creams and powders, and then my leg looked like this:

It was getting pretty itchy at this point, and as you can see, had spread/shown a reaction on the right leg now too.

Then it started looking pretty scabby. Hmmm.

Ideas about chiggers, poison ivy, and a variety of other ailments started being thrown around at this point. Meanwhile, I am treating with hydrocortisone, gold bond powder, Advil, Benadryl. Sort of a lot of drugs, right out of the gate.

Then we get to Thursday, when I already had an appointment with my PCP to go over my random body ache and general health.

It was here I was starting to panic a little. Two doctors and a nurse all discussed my legs and decided on chiggers or fleas, with the majority opinion swaying towards chiggers. They gave me a prescription for 60mg of prednisone and sent me on my way.

But the itch didn't stop there. It started waking me up in the night. I'd frantically begun texting my friends that I couldn't handle how itchy it was. I am not being melodramatic here. IT ITCHES SO FRAEKING BAD. It quickly escalated to unbearable and I started loading up on numbing spray and blister band aids in addition to what I already had been taking. Pain relieving cream is your friend here! Even so, that was still not enough. Getting out of a hot bath one night I scrubbed all my skin off until it bled. (It felt amazing). Then I got a washcloth to "dry" it, and of course, used that as a scratching tool too and scrubbed all of the pretty scabs my body had made.

Out of desperation, I decided to shellac my legs with clear nail polish, as many friends told me was the easiest solution and Dr. Google said was a very bad idea.

I appeared to have angered it.

This is pretty accurate as to what it looked like for most of Sunday and Monday.

Sunday night I couldn't fall asleep until after 5am, and then only slept an hour. What a miserable experience that was! I cried, argued with myself, texted people and generally speaking, got very whiney.

My friend finally got me to call the doctor again on Monday afternoon and they got me an urgent appointment with my PCP in 25 minutes. I was soaked in sweat when I got there after rushing in the car and then across campus and was totally disgusting looking. They kept asking if I had a fever, but no, I was just being gross and wearing dirty clothes in humid weather.

When we took off the bandaids on my toes, we got a lovely surprise!

Hello, infection!

(My nail polish is missing because I SCRATCHED IT OFF).

This time I got the benefit of FOUR MORE DOCTORS and ANOTHER nurse weighing in on my leg drama. They all poked prodded, examined me and asked a million questions. Everything from scabies to allergies was thrown around before they finally agreed on a diagnosis of poison ivy, and an allergic reaction to go with it.

The loudest doctor said the directional lines around my ankles looked precisely like the grass/vines brushing up against my feet as I walked through ground bushes. My PCP was concerned it was really mite tracking, not scratches (aka scabies).  It took them about 20 minutes to come to a consensus on the poison ivy, and then they went all out with treatment.

Extend the 60 mg/day prednisone, topical prescription strength anti itch gel, an oral antibiotic FOUR TIMES A DAY, a sleeping pill/anti-histamine to get me to sleep, gelly burn pads around the biggest points of infection, and a couple other things I have now forgotten.

I walked out of the office like this:

They bandaged both of my ankles like I had tried to slit my wrists. It was pretty attractive, I must say.

I managed to sleep last night with the help of the sedative, but I am still itchy. Less desperately so though, so that must be recognized as an improvement!

I still am not sure what this is. People who have had poison ivy say my initial rash didn't look like it. I have no idea. I just hope this works. We are on day 11 of this hell.  Anybody got an opinion?

I'm still here.

I hope I haven't worried you.

I just got an email from someone who wanted to make sure I was okay because I wasn't blogging. I guess it's been more than a month since I've updated and given the tone of most of my posts...I can see how that would give you cause for concern... I haven't blogged on my work blog in a week either, so I wasn't sure which blog they were referencing, (aka, the context in which they knew me) and even though I recognized their first name as someone I thought I knew from this blog, I wasn't totally sure... So I didn't want to launch into "where I've been" in case it was a client or "fan" of my work talking about my work blog. But I think I know who it was... but I wasn't sure. I don't know this gal's last name in real life, at least, I didn't remember it.

Anyway, I answered the note neutrally until I know how the writer knows me- from my personal life, or professional life, and then I can either spill my guts or give a professional answer and chuckle [professionally, of course.]

Where have I been?

I'm sure you'd like to hear about me lounging on a beach in the bahamas with a pina colada and a cabana boy and doing excellent, but that hasn't been the case. :(

At the end of the September a reader confided about some deceit she had caught her spouse in- explosive, like mine, although not the same situation, and it's really hard for me to be neutral or helpful because I just, well can't. I don't know how to help. I still have one more email from that person I keep meaning to open and haven't. I'm such a mess myself I don't know how to be a support to someone else. It makes me feel terrible because that's not who I used to be. I feel like I don't have much left to give, but maybe that's because I'm still trying to heal? On the other hand, I know how much it means to ME when other people share their stories with me so maybe I need to try harder. It's just SO HARD.

October was an incredibly rough month. I went off all but one of my medications. (I'm on three.) I ran out of my anti-depressants that had been perscribed to me when I had Kaiser last year (that I had hoarded) and was left with just my anxiety meds. This was not a good idea. I saw a psychiatrist for the first time since last fall and she officially diagnosed me as PTSD and tried to give me a Xanax prescription, she really felt I needed it, but as I have a sister who is a recovering addict (six years sober!) I am not comfortable taking any medication that is easily abused or is easy to become dependant on. We have multiple addicts and users in my family. My sister was a methamphetamine addict for 10 years. we are lucky she is alive, let alone a productive member of society with a great job, a partner and a college degree. I don't want to expose myself to medication that I may be prone to being "attracted" to, even though I have never abused or used drugs.  After explaining all of this to the doctor, she agreed and wrote me new Rx's for my medication. The problem was, with my new insurance, I lied when I applied and told them I didn't have any mental health issues because I believe that is why Kaiser terminated me, and I feared they would not accept me if they knew the extent of my problems right now. So I was going to have to pay for this doctor's appointment ($300) out of pocket, and these Rx's. I had to find a pharmacy, which was really overwhelming for someone who is off their medication and crying all day. The doctor also wrote the Rx for the wrong dosage on one medication, and wanted to call in the correct dosage into whatever pharmacy I used, rather than just writing me a new 'script, which if you know me, or at least how I have been since all of this has happened, that is just really overwhelming and upsetting. So before I could get my complete Rx, I had to find a pharmacy. I was officially "paralyzed" from doing anything because of this, if that makes any sense.

I was dealing with all of this stuff off my meds. It was UGLY.  Try coping with extremely stressful, emotional situations when you're dealing with untreated major depressive disorder. VERY BAD.  I thought about ways to "get out" alot. Calmly, rationally. Like, emailing people lists of things that needed to be done after I was gone. That's the kind of "clarity" that comes with being off medication. My therapist was NOT pleased. She gave me a deadline to find a pharmacy, which was Tuesday of this week- November 1st.

On Monday, Halloween, I went to Target and Walmart and got quotes for my medication. My anixety medication apparently runs almost $300 for a one month's supply in generic form. I have never felt so desperate. How am I supposed to treat myself, or take care of myself with a medical bill like that? Especially if I have to hide it from my insurance? I was surpringsly calm (I still had more pills of that medication left, I hadn't run out yet, and the other two medications were cheaper, $15/month and $60/month). I checked CanadaDrugs.com, but it was the same story... that one drug was really expensive.

Finally I thought to check Costco and that was a lifesaver. I got the two cheaper medications for $30ish bucks and the expensive one I think it only $60/month. DOWN FROM $300! How is that even possible?! It is such a blessing and a relief! Thank you Costco!

I started my anti-depressants again on Tuesday afternoon. They have me on a new kind of pill- called extended release, instead of suspended release (sustained release?) which means I only have to take a pill once a day instead of twice. I took it Tuesday and Wednesday and forgot today. :( It's funny though, by Wednesday, I was already starting to feel better...


The other bad thing that happened in October was at a wedding. I was... I guess... assaulted by a guest at a wedding I was working at. I was getting ready to shoot the first dance and had my back to him and I was looking at my camera. This man, a groomsman, ran his hands all over my body, groped me, and slapped me. I shoved him off me, and jumped away and told him to not touch me again. I started shaking really hard and started to cry, but by then the dance had started, so I had to start shooting. So I shot the first dance, crying and shaking like a leaf. As soon as it was over I went to the bathroom and cried. I texted my friend and told her what happened and tried to calm down.

I don't even like being hugged by men in my family. I get uncomfortable at family dinners sitting next to men I KNOW. In my German class, my teacher sends me out in the hall when we do group activities because I panic and start to cry if the men/boys in our class talk to me. This man... what he did... I don't know how they find me. I don't know how this, these things happen to me. Why? What have I done that makes people do things to me? I don't understand. I don't want to be a victim... But how do they FIND me?

*****
I feel like I should end this on a high note.

(Why I have NO IDEA)

I shot a wedding today, and I wore... A DRESS. From... ANTHROPOLOGIE! And.... PATTERENED TIGHTS! I know, RIGHT? Amazingness! I felt so chic! And I stuck a headband in my hair too! And blowdried it, and straightened it a little with the curling iron! (I think the cat peed on my straightener, so I didn't want to use that... [long awkward pause] anyway... So exciting, right? Oh, and the dress had POCKETS!

It was super expensive, the most expensive dress I have ever bought, I'm pretty sure, but I was thinking I could wear it to every wedding every weekend and just wear a different sweater set over it for the next five years. What do you think? It was very comfortable, the fabric is just so nice!

 

This is the dress. Mine has straps though- spaghetti straps, but straps none the less. Maybe they are removable. Maybe I should look and see. I really liked it BECAUSE it had straps. Today I wore it with a pumpkin orange sweater and pinky raspberry poetic license modest heels- for a couple hours. Then my feet were killing me, so I switched to black flats with bows on them from Target. I really wish someone had taken my picture or that I had taken  a picture in a mirror because I really liked how I looked!

30,000 Foot Freak Out

My trip to DC didn't exactly start out so hot. First of all, I spent the two hour drive from Sacramento to Reno crying hysterically and wishing I could drive into a tree or off a bridge. But I didn't because I "didn't have time." Seriously. That was the thought I had. I didn't have time to drive off a bridge because I would miss my flight. Right. About an hour into my drive I realized I hadn't been taking one of my anti-depressants (Celexa) which sort of cleared up as to why I was thinking those thoughts and why I was crying so much, and I started kicking myself because I didn't have that medication with me so I wouldn't be able to take it for the next six days either. Great. It's the only medication I take once a day so it's easier to forget... I'm back on it now, and luckily, I seemed to settle down once I was on the East Coast and I was careful about taking my other medications right on time, which I'm sure helped with my mood.

I had pretty much calmed down by the time I got the airport and really forgotten all about my break down in the car by the time I got on the plane, right up until they closed the cabin door and a man in his twenties with an ipod plopped down in the center seat beside me. (I was in the window). My whole body instantly tensed up. I began to shake. It had never occurred to be that I would have an issue with this or I would have to anticipate an issue with something like this. Before I knew it, I was trying to breathe my way through a full-out anxiety attack and trying to decide if I should make a run for it right now as the plane is starting to taxi down the runway with this man who is absolutely terrifying me sitting next me, brushing up against me, making me jump every time he touches me, making me feel dirty and disgusting... I feel so violated... just so dirty... I want to get away. I have to get away from him... Or if I can get through the next 15 minutes until we hit cruising altitude so I can ask the stewardess to reseat me on this completely full flight. I start frantically popping my head out of the top of my row to make sure there aren't any other empty seats while my chest starts heaving, trying to keep my crying as quiet as possible, trying to keep myself from just totally losing it.

Finally I pressed myself flat against the window, shuddering and crying until the the blessed seat belt sign clicked off, at which point I ordered him and the woman on the aisle seat out, threw myself out of the row and ran to the back of the plane where I burst into tears in front of the flight attendant, whom I'm sure probably thought the plane was being taken over by terrorists or something. But oh, no, it's just crazy Emily having a panic attack because she cant handle sitting next to a guy on a plane for 4 hours. I finally got the words out between all my chokey sobs (just like a little kid) and she just promptly fiddled around in the cupboards for a second and ordered me to "Drink this and Take this" and handed me a cup of clear fluid and some pills. I followed orders and stood in the back of the plane while the flight attendants talked over a private radio about what was going on, found someone to change into my old seat, moved my bags, came back to check on me, found my cup empty, refilled it, told me to drink it and once I did, said I should sleep the rest of the flight.

I had started to calm down about this time; I had been standing in the back of the plane with my head between my knees for about twenty minutes but I started to feel kind of woozy. It was about then that I realized that the flight attendant hadn't just given me any old drink. She'd gotten me drunk and drugged me. OH. That's what that stuff was. OOPS. The pills? Dramamine. The beverage? White wine. Tasted like flat 7up. How I spent the rest of the flight? Drunk and drugged.  Those flight attendants sure do know how to get hysterical passengers to sit down and hush up. Which I did. I spent the rest of the flight passed out in an aisle seat next to two little old ladies planning a trip to Turkey. When I came to HOURS later, the lady next to me leaned over, asked it I was okay and feeling better and chatted excitedly about her trip. I mostly forgot about the whole thing after that.

[shudders]

You can bet I was pretty darn careful about where I sat on the next three flights I took the rest of the way out there and then on the way back. (And carefully sniffed every other drink they gave me... lol Um, drinking alcohol was really not on my plan, nor am I supposed to consume it with all the medications I'm on anyway!)

Weepy

I've been finding myself on the verge of tears, or bursting out crying, on a typical day, maybe upwards of 5 or 6 times. Maybe more. Usually I will be quiet and fine most of the day, and then late at night, working on the computer, tv in the background I find myself crying at every little thing.

The culiprit, and cause of this lovely habit has already been unearthed.

I had already been struggling to remember to take my medication a couple months ago. When I went to Vegas for my photography conference, I settled down to get organized and remember my meds. I packed my six pills a day into two colorful plasic cases and put them out in plain sight.

I did good. When I got home, I promptly forgot all about it and went right back to struggling to remember. I got a LOT of half doses as I'd remember at midnight I hadn't taken any medication that day. That is not good.

But it gets even better! (sarcasm) At this point, I'm pretty much off all of my medication completely, including birth control. I am obsessed with birth control. I might as well just tell you this now since I like to yell at anyone who will listen to me about it. (now I shall go off on a tangent internet...)

I HATE periods. I think they are gross, disgusting, messy, expensive and unnecessary. They also make you needlessly emotional. I am not down with ANY of that. So, since... early college? I have taken birth control to make my periods go BYE BYE. That's right. I suspress my periods. (or... I did.) After reading over and over and over again in various women's magazines and in health journals about how there is no medical reason to have a period, and a period while you'r eon the pill isn't a really period anyway, and it doesn't affect your fertility... Well.... BOOYA! I said goodbye to my periods and started taking the pill continuously (skipping the placebo pills) for the next few years. (Okay, more like... 8 years). Because I'm forgetful, I'd average at least one period a year where I will have forgotten to take it and I would end up with one on accident. I would always be bitter and angry and shake my fist in the bathroom over these little "presents" nature would bestow upon me. Periods are gross. Ew.

So, back to my medication talk.... along with my anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication I've been forgetting, I've been forgetting my birth control too. Being on BC really evens out your hormones, ESPECIALLY when you supress your period. (You can't do it on every type of pill out there... you have to be on a kind where you get the same hormone dose each day, something like ortho tri cyclen where the dosages are different each week is a no-no; you'll get breakthrough bleeding. Sorry for the TMI, but this is soooo my favorite subject. You only wish I was kidding.) So at this point, I'm totally off my anti-depressants, totally off my anti-anxiety, and for the first time in almost a decade, totally off birth control. It is not going so hot.

I feel like I'm working ALOT more, which, as I write this, I suspect may have something to do with the fact that alot of my medications make me sleepy. Maybe I've been so productive this last month because I'm not so sedated. That's good! Is crying up to 10 times a day a good trade off for that? Being hormonal and cranky? My anxiety medication I have remembered some of the time, and for that I know I'm not totally off it. That said, I'm starting to get anxious in stores again.

Did I mention this wasn't going well?

About a week ago I tried to start taking my medication again, and took all my doses as I'm supposed to be taking them... and I was laid up with headaches for two days.

Does that mean I need to like, wean myself on to them like they did when I was in the very beginning? Or should I just do my regular doses and try harder? What's the best way for me to help myself remember my meds?

Something else I think contributes to this is the fact I was turned down for an insurance renewal because of my mental health. And my new insurance... my Rx's aren't with them. So when I run out of medication, I have no plan of what to do. Because I've been forgetting, and because I tend to lose stuff, and then order refills because I lost my Rx... I have a small stockpile of medication here, but it won't last forever.

Do I really need to be on this? Maybe I'm just a weepy person as an adult. In my heart I think I know I need to be on all these drugs right now, and on the flip side, I think part of my resistence and issue with "forgetting" is because I am really, so, so ready for this trial to be done with. And it's not.  And it's still a long road.

BANG- HEAD- ON- DESK

This has just been a bad freaking week. I keep looking at myself, and thinking, "Hey, maybe you are really okay with this! I mean, you're not laying on the floor in the fetal position. Maybe this isn't such a big deal!"

The contrast from which how I handled the ending of my last relationship and how this process seems to be going is drastic to say the least. It's also funny because I have found myself lately wishing I could speak to David, my first boyfriend whom I met right as I graduated college, about some of the things that have happened. We broke up in 2007 after 3 years together. He is married now. When that relationship ended, I was a big slobbery, snotty, mucus filled mess.

It's not like that this time and I don't know what to make of it. Probably part of that is that I am on four different types of mood stabilizers. Another part of it probably has to do with the fact that beyond my heart being broken, I am also simply terrified, and that emotion is overriding everything else right now. It probably doesn't feel safe to cry and that primitive part of my brain shuts me down from doing that because I have to be ready to run at any moment because Matt the Ripper is going to come up on me at any moment with a gun.

I had my first anxiety class yesterday. We talked about the primitive brain thing. What's it called? Your amaglea... amagdlea? (too tired to look up spelling, sorry) It's some section of your brain located at the back, it's very primitive and basically it just keeps us safe. It tells us we aren't safe, kicks the adrenaline into overdrive and tells us to flee. That's how I feel all the time. Right now, sitting in my house, with all the lights on, watching the cat walk around the house carrying his baby blanket around in his mouth (did I mention it's pink?) and sitting at my desk.... my shoulders are pulled tight to my neck and hiked up close to my ears... my upper arms ache from being held tensely all day... my legs are perched in this chair and I keep looking out the front window to see who is there... Even thought it's almost 10pm and of course no one is there.

When I lay in bed at night, I curl up tight, and really nothing changes. My back, neck, arms, shoulders all ache. I hold them tight all the time now. I just can't stop clenching. I'm nervous. Jumpy. Twitchy. I'll hear noises in the night in the house and wake up startled, scared. 9 times out of 10 I think someones in the house. I used to be a heavy sleeper. Now the cat jumps on the counter and I'm looking for my machete. If I had one, anyway.

(Anyway have one I could borrow?)

When I was in that anxiety class they had us do a relaxation exercise by listening to a CD where we systematically tighten and release specific muscles in our body until we are totally relaxed in our chairs.

I had to get up and move seats before we even started because I felt afraid because there was a man sitting diagonally behind me in my seat. I kept turning and looking at him to make sure he wasn't close; finally I got up and moved to a seat surrounded by women on all sides. One of them had terrible BO but I felt much more secure there.

Once they started the tape.... Oh boy. It was not good. Every few seconds, I would jump out of my seat thinking something was coming up behind me. I tried really really hard and I managed to sit through the whole darn thing but I was so anxious by the end of it I was about ready to run a marathon and scream for an hour I was so amped up. And FREAKED. But it did give me an "ah-ha" moment. I'm afraid to relax because I don't feel safe. I don't feel safe anymore. (...gettin' upset...) He took away my feelings of safety. I was so blindsided by all of this that now I feel like I don't know what's going to happen next. Anything could happen and I don't know how to anticipate it. The behaviors and actions of the people around me, particularly men are completely unpredictable, so how and why would or could I ever relax or let me guard down again? Something really bad could happen. I know this is really distorted thinking, but I didn't even know that this is what I HAD been thinking until yesterday when I realized I didn't feel safe. He took my sense of safety and he took the trust I had in myself with him when he left. I think a part of me is angry, but not a yell and scream angry- a crying angry.

Other things he said to me while we were together have jumped out at me this week.

While we was wooing me, talking about marrying me... he told me his wife could have anything she wanted. ...I think she already does, Matt.

I told him I was a little hesitant to be fully honest with him because he seemed to pull away when I did so and he replied that if we didn't have honesty, we didn't have anything. He was just trying to help me open up, but now. What the freak was that supposed to have meant?

**Edited to Add**
He also told me his ex-girlfriend from college whom he had been engaged to but whom cheated on him a month before the wedding so he broke it off (chew on that- cheating is intolerable to him- whether he made that story up or not-- but he expects his wife to put up with it???) contacted him out of the blue 5 years after they broke up a few months after we started seeing each other. She asked him if he was seeing anyone and he said he felt very smug in being able to say yes, and that she didn't say anything else to him after that. (Via text). He also told me last December that she called him out of the blue, again, after over 5 years of no contact to tell him that her mother had died of cancer. He said he had been very close to her mom but that since they weren't together anymore the conversation was awkward and then he had to deal with the grief of losing the ex's mother alone.

I'm guessing all of the above is probably false.

He did tell me a couple of good things. In the scrapbook I made for each of us for Christmas last year, I included notes we had written each other. In one of them he told me that I shouldn't ever give up on my dreams for some guy, and that my wishes and dreams should be respected no matter what.

More recently, late last winter after we had made amends and we were trying to decide whether we were going to put a label on our relationship again or wait until he was back on his feet (he felt like he had nothing to offer me as a partner and it wasn't fair to me to tie me down when he was "worthless" at that time, as he said,). I told him I loved him and wanted to shout it from the rooftops, tell everyone, post it on facebook, etc. And he told me, if I changed my status, I might miss out on my perfect guy because he might see that I wasn't dating and move on. I said something like, I already have my perfect guy, but.... You know what I mean thinking about that statement now.

I wish I knew why he did this. I am starting to feel used. I am starting to feel tossed away like a piece of garbage. Like a piece of trash or a toy he took out and played with and then threw under the bed when he was done with... only to dig it out again when he got bored. How could one person do that to another human being? How can you have so little respect for someone else? How could he have so little respect for my life and my feelings? Does he not understand how much he has messed me up? For his own selfish purposes? WHY? What is wrong with him that he would do that? How could he dare swoop in here and represent himself to be someone and something that he most definitely was NOT? And how long would he have kept up this charade? Would he have married me? Had kids with me? How can you consciously choose to cause psychological damage to another person? And look at how much of my life I have WASTED on this person!

This fall I was supposed to be taking LSAT prep classes, taking exams and going back to school! And now where am I? In the same exact place I was two years ago! In the same house, doing the same thing, unhappy and feeling absolutely trapped. And now a whole new set of issues, this time so much more serious that I don't even know where to begin to cope with them. What is wrong with him? What is wrong with people? Why would you choose to hurt someone? How can you make a CONSCIOUS CHOICE to mess up someones life? WHY?

And why did he have to pick me? Why me? After all the other things that have happened... why did I have to go through this too?

I hope so, so SO badly that I won't have to experience any more major things in my life like this. I am so tired. I feel hopeless. I feel like there is nothing to look forward to. I feel like the future is just one big black blob of nothingness. And that isn't anything to look forward to anymore.

Angry.

But not for the reason you think.

Once again, I got attacked by one of my "friends" because I still have pictures of Matt and I together on Facebook. She said, and I quote, that it was "sick."

I told her if she couldn't refrain from being rude or nasty when speaking then she needed to not say anything at all. She didn't answer; didn't acknowledge it.

I don't care about the context or how she "meant" it to be intrepreted. She essentially called me sick. She knows better. She is a divorced adult with adult children. She knows better. And she called me and my choices sick. What is wrong with her? I think that is just mean! I object to people saying anything at all, but if she was going to butt in, that was a totally inappropriate way to do it. And ineffective I might add. It makes me want to tattoo that picture on my forehead and stand on her front porch so she can stare at it or something! Do you know what I mean? When I take it down I want to do it because *I* am ready and because *I* chose to! Not because someone dictaited orders to me.

I am mad and I keep getting more upset about it. It happened last night.

Yesterday afternoon I played with the idea of taking down the pictures, or at least changing my profile picture. MOST of the people in my life have no idea what happened. MOST people don't even know anything happened at all and think we are still together. The people that matter know, and that's really all that matters anyway... it's not really any one else's business. I wouldn't typically say something like that, I am really open. But given these particular circumstances, I don't want it known to everyone I know in the real world. It's humilating, and again, I can't deal with questions right now. The questions and comments of the important people in my life have been awful enough. Being ignored entirely by people I thought were my closest friends is equally bad.

I love him, I miss him and I feel like a part of me died too. I lost yet another part of my innocence by now becoming more skeptical and less trusting of people in the future. Of now becoming frightened and further intimidated by men... things won't be the same for me. I will have to carry this on my heart for a long time. It will always be there but I pray the burden will be lightened over time. I hope. Right now the constant pressure in my chest from the anxiety and upset and constant verge of hysteria is exhausting and horrible. I want it to go away and stop. And then I hear a siren or a loud noise that doesn't stop and I am triggered and there I am in that house again and not able to escape and scared out of my mind.

I HATE this. I can't tell you how much I hate this. I say that with tears runnning down my face and an exhausted body falling out of this chair; afraid to go to bed, and not able to do anything during the day because I am so paralyzed of what might happen if I do something. If I'm triggered. Or worse, my real fear. That I will see them. Or him. I saw three CHP patrol cars on the freeway on Thursday and I about smashed into the center divider each time I saw them. Luckily I was in stop and go traffic so I was pretty well protected. I feel afraid all the time. I don't know where he works.. So I don't know how to avoid him. I feel like I can't protect myself and I also feel like I can't trust myself or make my own decisions... I feel incompetent.

I am afraid of that man, that husband, that man in uniform. But I cry for my Matty to come home and for everything to go back to normal. I want to be loved, I want to be in love again and feel protected and secure and happy in that relationship that was so at peace and delighted to be in.

Why do I have to deal with this?

Driving to my appointment to check up on my medications with the NP I started freaking out, crying and talking loudly, not quite yelling, at myself in the car. WHY did this happen to me? WHY do I have to deal with this? WHY ME? Why did he pick me? Why do I have to do this? I don't want to DEAL with this! It isn't fair. I don't want to deal with this. Why can't I just have a normal break up like everybody else?! Why did yet another bad thing happen to me? Why did this happen to me?! WHY?!

The NP blocked off a big chunk of time to talk to me which is really unusual. I think the most amount of time I have ever had with her was 20 minutes and I am pretty sure this went over an hour. She said that when someone goes through IOP the entire psychiatry department works as a team to coordinate and moniter my care, because, essentially, I am considered high risk. I can't really disagree with her on that.

She had read all of the notes in my file and knew everything that had happened so I could talk about it without actually having to tell the story which was a huge relief. She talked to me about PTSD- Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which no one had actually talked to me about yet. In fact, no one has ever told me what I was ever diagnosed with so I really don't know. I will see the therapist in another week and I will try and ask her then. I myself had wondered about PTSD because I have flashbacks and panic attacks and of course the constant anxiety, but I'm not a medical health professional so I am obviously not qualified to diagnose myself.

She also told me that part of my "fogginess" may be attributed to the fact I've struggled with eating and drinking. She said both low blood sugar and dehydration can cause that slowness in thought so I needed to try harder to regulate my blood sugar and intake more water so I don't become hypoglycemic. This woman is extremely hyperactive but she is so knowledgeable. She pins things down before you even finish explaining the situation. (Practically).

Didn't say this before but I did call the Bishop for the LDS church to ask for a referral for counseling and apparently he might be able to adjust the cost to something I can afford. I called on Wednesday and left a message but no one has called me yet so I am still waiting.

I took a bath today for the first time today in over a week. It was VERY difficult to get out the tangles in my hair. I curled and hairsprayed my hair for that wedding last week and it apparently turned into a big rat's nest. I literally pulled out chunks of my hair... My hair also falls out when I am stressed so I guess I will be bald soon. I had to put so much conditioner in my hair to get out the knots that now it feels super greasy... sigh... I am going to have to wash it before my next wedding tomorrow. :(

I have weddings on Sunday, Tuesday and Saturday. Then my Dad comes in for his 50th HS reunion and then my mom comes to visit during the week... she's staying here so I have to clean my house. Can you imagine what my house looks like at this point? I look like a candidate for "Hoarders" I don't know how I am ever going to make it through the next week.

I'm tired. Confused. Lonely. Lost.

Sigh.

When I started eating again I gained just under 2 pounds right away so I stopped weighing myself so much, but I started struggling again with eating earlier this week so I stepped on the scale today- I thought it would still be up. I was 175 at the lowest and bounced up to 176.8 as soon as I started eating better. But when I checked my weight it was only 174.8. On the one hand it pleases me and on the other hand it's a problem. If I worry about it, I feel silly because I'm overweight, and if I feel pleased I feel guilty because it's not healthy. (Throws up hands.)

Pooping Uphill

This morning as I was driving into class I saw a Golden Retreiver squating on a relatively steep, albeit small, hill next to the sidewalk, with just about all of his weight on his front paws, and trying to go potty, you know, uphill. He looked like he was about to do a handstand.

I hope it all came out okay.

My weight is down to 175.8. But I have good news about this. I met with a case manager today and although I have now discussed the food issue with several professionals in my program, the woman I met with today reminded me that my new anti-anxiety medication that I was put on when I started the program 2 weeks ago causes weight loss! I was so relieved! So it is not all just me! The doctor told me that when she perscribed it but I completely forgot with everything going on. It is probably not all the medication given how rapid it has been, but Theresa (the psychologist I chose to cry all over today) told me is supresses appetite, so WHEWHOO! It is not all totally in my head and that is a relief. It was causing me some additional worry and I really dont need that right now.

Today I ate some crostini (kind of like a big crouton) with some apricot and almond goat cheese, which was really good. I got that from the grocery outlet and I definetly need some more of it! I also had a whole greek yogurt (well, I didn't eat the fruit on the bottom.) And I made some pumpkin raviloi with salt. So in total, I probably got almost 500 calories in me, which is more than I have been able to eat in awhile. I didn't even cook a whole serving of the ravioli and I couldn't finish it, but I am going to try again in awhile when my stomache settles down. I get really bad stomache aches when I eat now, which may be from my body not being used to eating, but two psychologists I've talked to have both told me they think it's from the anxiety.

So, Saturday I shot that wedding. I would describe it as horrible. The ceremony, which is something I hadn't even really thought about, particularly the vows were really personal, and people cried. The groom's sister sang Norah Jones' "Come Away With Me" and she can actually sing. I had to turn away and try to think about something else and basically imagined driving pencils into my eardrums so I wouldn't have to hear it. I loved that song. It made me think of him while we were together and I don't want to hear it right now.

From the couple's perspective, they didn't know the difference and everything went fine and they had no idea, which is the ultimate goal. From my end, I probably took half as many pictures as I usually do, family pictures took 50% longer and I forgot to take pictures of the bride and groom alone before it got dark. I have no idea why. I didn't feel like I was shooting any less, and the groom's family is large, but I am used to wrangling large groups. I don't know. Bottom line, the couple will never know the difference, only I will.

Yesterday and today were really bad. Particularly yesterday. Like I told my dad... it's like you got run over by a truck... after you wake up, the first thing you ask is, "What just happened?" Which is what I have been mumbling for the last couple of weeks. (That and "Huh?" ) Yesterday I started thinking... "...Did I just get run over by a truck?"

I had a panic attack talking to my dad on the phone on Friday night. He said a particular word, and it made me react but I controlled it... and then he said it again and I triggered. I started panting and raised my voice and told him I couldn't hear that because it put me back "in that house" and I couldn't do that. And he was like, "What house? What are you talking about?" And I was all, "WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M TALKING ABOUT?!" It made me SO mad (after the fact), I mean come on, this is the ONLY thing going on in my life right now that I am dealing with. What else would I be referencing? But, I was hysterical, and I am completely hypersensitive and I know that. I ended up hanging up the phone and it was a good 15-20 minutes before I could calm myself down. I couldn't stop crying, I couldn't breathe, I felt like I was dying. At one point I caught myself slightly rocking. That freaked me out. That's what crazy people on tv do. It was awful.

So I asked to see a case manager Monday and I ended up getting held after the program for about an hour crying in this womans office. She told me we needed to assess if my needs were being met in IOP and if I needed a higher level of care and she talked to me about going to a voluntary in-patient facility for awhile. ...That really scared me and I told her I was too scared to do that.

So today I saw another case manager (Theresa) and she commented while I was bawling my eyes out in her office that she had noticed how distressed I had looked the day before and that, basically, I looked like I had been run over by a truck and based on how I held my body and how shallow my breaths were that it looked like I was on the verge of a panic attack and ready to run just about all day long. She also told me that I am greiving and that this is a loss and that this is ok. This is what I am supposed to be doing. Nobody has really said that before. No one had mentioned the 5 stages of grief to me until yesterday and that was mentioned to me by a friend! Then Theresa mentioned it again today and another therapist approached me after class and said the same thing. Theresa reccomended that I read some books on loss and losing a spouse. That that is how this feels. But that this is almost worse, because, when a spouse dies, they aren't rejecting you. They didn't deceive you. You can just love them and miss them and its simple in that respect. This is more complicated. But she said the first step in this is greiving him and the relationship and the loss of our future and our plans together.

And that is how I have felt. And people jumping at me with "You should be angry!" and Why do I still have pictures of him and ordering me to remove them (literally, I've receiving emails and IM's in caps saying that), so many people have told me what a horrible person he is and have listed every negative adjective in the book to describe him. But the man that *I* knew never hurt me. He loved me and cared about me. That's it. And... he went away. Or he died. And all I really want is for him to come home. And I need to figure that out first before anything else. It's been haunting me all day.. He's not coming home. I always thought he would come home to me. And he isn't going to. He isn't coming home.

Sick

I am just plain old sick. Not sick with a cold. But sick in that I feel horrible- it's the depression stuff. I had a really bad time a few weeks ago and it was REALLY bad, and then gave me a second medication to try and help me. Which it was, but today I got swept up in some drama with Matt ( maybe not drama, but it made me upset, so that's what I am calling it.) and I completely forgot to take my medication all day, and I am supposed to do two separate doses twice a day of two dierent kids of medication and I forgot all of it until after 10pm, when I was feeling really weepy and awful... and then I remembered. I wonder if just missing it one day like that could make me feel that awful that fast. I don't know. Anybody know?

Anyway, I just feel horrible. Really down, really sad, weepy, unmotivated, exhausted. I'm just so tired. And today it was worse because I laid down and I fell asleep for a moment and instantly woke up startled, like, I jumped a foot off the bed kind of thing. That happened every single time I started to fall asleep. I'd drift off and JUMP! One time I like punched my fist, or hit myself, or the bed, or I don't know what, but it was weird. It was hard to not feel good and then not get relief from taking a nap.

I didn't talk to Matt yesterday, and he started messaging me first thing this morning, and that was great. But after an hour or so he dropped a bomb on me, that he needed to save money because he might buy a house. I got really upset, and he didn't answer my messages for almost 2 hours. I called and left messages and texted and said he needed to call me. And he called and he said, well 99% of the reason he moved was for his dad but it was also because he misses him family and being there these 6 weeks has made him even closer to them, and he wants to keep his options open and save money so he can buy a house, and then he will sell this one.

I feel really deceived. All this time I have taken him at his word that he has been too busy, and that he is miserable all the time and work is awful. And then today he told me he doesn't miss his old office at all and that it is great to work up there because it is so beautiful there, and that he has more friends there than here, because there are family friends there. And being there these 6 weeks has brought him so much closer to his family and if he is down here he can't see them whenever he wants.

I feel like he is forcing himself into choosing between me and his family and that is ridiculous, he doesn't have to do that. If he lives here he can see them whenever he wants. But he says he can't. I don't understand.

I am really, REALLY upset. I picked wrong again. How did I pick the wrong guy again? As a person he is perfect for me, and yet he is so overly involved in his family he would rather be a single bachelor for the rest of his life and live down the street from them than try to build a life and family of his own with me- and still see his family. He can have it both ways... he just can't have it up there like that. If he feels this disconnected and distant from me and so close to them after 6 weeks that he has already gone back on what we discussed about not buying a house there at least until the 6 months were up and only if his dad was in bad shape.... if he is already like this after 6 weeks... how could we possibly be together these 4.5 months he at least has left if he has already pulled away so much? He needs to change what he is doing, since he apparently could call me and communicate with me more than he has. He told me today he is a bad communicator. No, really?

He told me on Friday that his dad is getting back to his old self and is much better.

I feel heartbroken. I don't know what to do. Why does this keep happening to me? What am I doing wrong? How am I picking them wrong? He is so right for me. He was everything I wanted and more. He would be a wonderful partner and father and provider, and he loves me. And... I don't understand. I am so upset. I feel lost. I don't know what's going to happen. I didn't know I could be in a relationship where we were both crazy about each other, and loved each other and someone could tell me things like they love me and think I'm beautiful and want to be with me forever... and then tell me that they are considering moving 2 hours away so they can see their family every day and just cut us off, just like that.

I am so hurt. :(