If it's not one thing, it's always another. So, I'm doing much better on eating. Doing a little too well. I'm eating too much now. I'm probably not intaking a huge amount of calories; it's probably close to appropriate. But they aren't great choices. I'm choosing items from around the house, so lots of frozen meals, so they have lots of sodium, and lots of "veggie meat" which apparently seems to be breaded and fried. I pulled some veggie chicken out of the freezer and it looks like a giant chicken nugget. Tastes fine, but it's a giant chicken nugget. Not really ideal for a dieter.
I'm totally lacking in fresh fruits and vegetables and have absolutely zero interest in hunting those items down right now. I know it's good I am eating, but I am also disappointed because I AM overweight and it just would have been a nice cheater benefit out of this whole "I'm too depressed and strung out on medication to eat anymore" thing if I could have magically gotten down to a healthy weight as a side effect of this. Just sayin'.
I don't think I am ready yet to talk about how I found out. It's not that it is really dramatic or anything, but it is long and I am afraid telling it is going to make me re-live it. For some reason... when I am telling stories like that about this whole thing, I start feeling like I am in the moment and I start to panic and get really upset. I don't like that...
Today was the four week mark, and I did survive the day, but I coped with food and about a five hour nap. I felt like I was just waiting for the day to be over. But when I looked at the calendar and realized it was already Tuesday today... the days go by so fast; this week is going by so fast. My LIFE is passing me by. But the days drag on. I don't feel like I have anything to live for or look forward to. I don't have a plan. My dreams are gone. They died with him. I don't know what my dreams are now.
I don't know what I want to be or where I want to go in this life anymore. But I don't feel lost either... more like floudering and flailing and just waiting for the Mama bird to come scoop me up and take me back to the nest and take care of me. I don't feel capable or qualified to make my own descions anymore. But I don't understand why.
I'm so tired. I just want to sleep. I want new sheets and a new bedspread. I keep looking online at things I can't afford. But I want some nice new cool sheets to lay on and turn on my side, and look at the window and stare. And not think. I am filled with so many feelings and memories and they just consume me. I want to pull the plug on the drain in this tub on my body and let them flow away and leave me empty again. How am I ever going to be "Me" again? I don't even know who I am anymore. I'm the woman who had an affair with some woman's husband? Even though I didn't know... part of my brain still tells me that's who I am. Is that who I am? Some adulteress? Some horrible person who broke up a home and a family? Or some stupid girl who didn't ask enough questions or push enough for answers? Neither of those people sound like me... not at all. But I don't know where I fit into this either. Today I have been replaying my conversation with Sydney (the wife) over and over again in my mind... Trying to remember everything we said, how she reacted or responded... There wasn't anything new buried there. The only thing I accomplished in replaying that memory was conjuring up a fantasy of more things I wished I could tell her or talk to her about. Things I forgot to say. Things I downplayed because I was ashamed or embarrassed in the moment. Things I remembered later and don't have to do with me... but I know she would have wanted to know. ...Wondering if I should tell her... Reminding myself that I need to mind my own business and if she wants to know anything, she knows where to find me.
I feel so numb. Not being in the outpatient program... I don't think it's a good thing. Instead of going to the groups and talking and learning... I'm eating all day and sleeping and not doing anything. Eating and sleeping all day and not crying and dealing with this... being numbed out and shoving it aside and pretending it's just another crappy day in my life... the urge to seek out help fades and the anxiety associated with seeking help increases... I start telling myself I don't really need help, see, because I'm not crying today. That's probably not right though, huh?
Not that I am having to deal with this issue at this particular moment, nor do I really think I look like hot stuff, averaging a bath about once every 10 days, but I want to be prepared should it happen... How do I fend off offers for dates or set ups or men who approach me? What is the politest, firmest thing to say? I don't do good with one liners... I find it hard to shut my mouth, so something a little longer, a two liner? Three liner? Would be better so I don't start babbling...
I guess the other indicator that I am not ok is that I absolutely do not want to date. Hence the above question. I don't want anyone close to me. The thought of being alone in a room with a man makes me very anxious. Even men I know. Even your husbands. It makes me want to back into a wall and panic. I just want to hold my arms out in front of me, straight out, and make sure they can't get any closer than arms length... and even then it is way too close. Just thinking about that makes my skin crawl. And it makes me extremely self concious of the female parts of my body. Like, I want to duct tape down my chest. Don't look at me, go away, leave me alone. Like that...
I don't know why. I think about it alot. When the bagger boy at the grocery store smiles at me, or someone holds the door open for me.... get away from me.... don't look at me... leave me alone.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
The Climb
I'm glad to see that there are a couple new people checking in with me here. It means so much to me. Especially since you are people I don't know in the real world. It just feels so much safer here. I don't know how to explain it, but I hope you can understand. Everything is just so humiliating... it's nice to know you are here, but to not know your faces.
Today marks four weeks since I found out. The afternoon of Tuesday August 3rd is when I found out. I had laid awake that night before well into the wee sma's [wee small hours of the morning for those of you who aren't LM Montgomery readers.] worrying and wondering exactly what was going on. I honestly didn't know. I certainly didn't think that this was what was being kept from me. You can't make this stuff up. I can barely keep it all straight. And I lived it.
Here and there a piece of information or a date or something he said will come floating on a string through my mind and I will recoil or shake my head or shudder or just wonder what on earth he was doing or thinking. How could he do this to me? I loved him. I still do. How do you hurt the people you love?
I haven't yet shared how exactly I found out, and I have been going back and forth as to whether I wanted to do that today. I had been sitting on the couch the last few hours thinking I needed to blog because I felt so terrible and I need an outlet. And I need to talk to people. I need to hear from people and know that they are there and listening and I am not by myself. I have lots of friends, of course. But without Matt, knowing my life from this point on will be without him, when I had had so much faith that I would never walk alone again... knowing he is never again going to hold my hand and I am in this by myself.... I feel very alone. My soul, my heart... I feel very empty, alone, abandoned. I miss my partner.
I feel alone, and I feel trapped. I so desperately want to run. Literally and figuratively. If I didn't have this broken foot and knee injury, (which I can tell is getting worse from me laying around) I would literally be spriting on a treadmill or running and crying through a park somewhere. Mentally where I am at I think more about running away. Just getting in my car and driving hundreds of miles to nowhere. Just leaving and going somewhere and not caring about the consequences. But I can't. And I hate it.
I feel so trapped in this house. It's so messy and dirty. It's too small and there is crap everywhere all the time, even when it is clean. There is constant maintenance because there isn't room for anything. The trash overflows in a day and a half... my boy cat Toulouse (Tootie) thinks the litter box is a sand box to play in and flips litter all over the floor of the bathroom every day. But there's no alternative set up because of the size of my house.
I feel trapped in my job. I've been trying to find a job in another industry since the fall of 2008 with no luck whatsoever.
I feel trapped in my education. Every time I try to move forward with my graduate degree some disaster happens and I have to pull the reigns back... further trapping me where I am.
I feel suspended in time. My life was always moving, moving, moving. Growing and developing. and now I have been caught in a transition stage for almost 4 years and I can't seem to get out of it. Things were finally about to move forward. I was registering to take the LSAT again this fall and signing up for prep classes, studying... starting over with law school. Throwing out my old credits and starting from scratch. I was supposed to start class the Saturday after I found out.
Obviously, not the wisest thing to be taking an exam that important when I am not capable of bathing myself more than 3 times in a month, eating more than 300 calories in a day and cry endlessly or numb out and stare at the walls and feel nothing... because to feel anything would be so overwhelming I couldn't survive the pain.
I'll try and talk about how I found out tomorrow. It's a long story, but the short version is, I had no idea, no clues, no hints, nothing. We were together for a year and a half and although there were lots of bumps in our road, the way we felt about each other and the peace I eventually came to feel in our relationship... I "knew" this was it. Partner, best friend, soul mate... I meant those things. I still do. But when I realized he had lied about his name... that man I had known and loved... he disappeared like dust into the air.... just dissolved into space. And he's gone now.
All I can think is I just want him to come home. I don't know how to deal with this. Come home. Hug me, hold me, tell me you love me. That everything is fine; that it was all a dream. Wake me up from this nightmare. Please.
But he never comes.
Today marks four weeks since I found out. The afternoon of Tuesday August 3rd is when I found out. I had laid awake that night before well into the wee sma's [wee small hours of the morning for those of you who aren't LM Montgomery readers.] worrying and wondering exactly what was going on. I honestly didn't know. I certainly didn't think that this was what was being kept from me. You can't make this stuff up. I can barely keep it all straight. And I lived it.
Here and there a piece of information or a date or something he said will come floating on a string through my mind and I will recoil or shake my head or shudder or just wonder what on earth he was doing or thinking. How could he do this to me? I loved him. I still do. How do you hurt the people you love?
I haven't yet shared how exactly I found out, and I have been going back and forth as to whether I wanted to do that today. I had been sitting on the couch the last few hours thinking I needed to blog because I felt so terrible and I need an outlet. And I need to talk to people. I need to hear from people and know that they are there and listening and I am not by myself. I have lots of friends, of course. But without Matt, knowing my life from this point on will be without him, when I had had so much faith that I would never walk alone again... knowing he is never again going to hold my hand and I am in this by myself.... I feel very alone. My soul, my heart... I feel very empty, alone, abandoned. I miss my partner.
I feel alone, and I feel trapped. I so desperately want to run. Literally and figuratively. If I didn't have this broken foot and knee injury, (which I can tell is getting worse from me laying around) I would literally be spriting on a treadmill or running and crying through a park somewhere. Mentally where I am at I think more about running away. Just getting in my car and driving hundreds of miles to nowhere. Just leaving and going somewhere and not caring about the consequences. But I can't. And I hate it.
I feel so trapped in this house. It's so messy and dirty. It's too small and there is crap everywhere all the time, even when it is clean. There is constant maintenance because there isn't room for anything. The trash overflows in a day and a half... my boy cat Toulouse (Tootie) thinks the litter box is a sand box to play in and flips litter all over the floor of the bathroom every day. But there's no alternative set up because of the size of my house.
I feel trapped in my job. I've been trying to find a job in another industry since the fall of 2008 with no luck whatsoever.
I feel trapped in my education. Every time I try to move forward with my graduate degree some disaster happens and I have to pull the reigns back... further trapping me where I am.
I feel suspended in time. My life was always moving, moving, moving. Growing and developing. and now I have been caught in a transition stage for almost 4 years and I can't seem to get out of it. Things were finally about to move forward. I was registering to take the LSAT again this fall and signing up for prep classes, studying... starting over with law school. Throwing out my old credits and starting from scratch. I was supposed to start class the Saturday after I found out.
Obviously, not the wisest thing to be taking an exam that important when I am not capable of bathing myself more than 3 times in a month, eating more than 300 calories in a day and cry endlessly or numb out and stare at the walls and feel nothing... because to feel anything would be so overwhelming I couldn't survive the pain.
I'll try and talk about how I found out tomorrow. It's a long story, but the short version is, I had no idea, no clues, no hints, nothing. We were together for a year and a half and although there were lots of bumps in our road, the way we felt about each other and the peace I eventually came to feel in our relationship... I "knew" this was it. Partner, best friend, soul mate... I meant those things. I still do. But when I realized he had lied about his name... that man I had known and loved... he disappeared like dust into the air.... just dissolved into space. And he's gone now.
All I can think is I just want him to come home. I don't know how to deal with this. Come home. Hug me, hold me, tell me you love me. That everything is fine; that it was all a dream. Wake me up from this nightmare. Please.
But he never comes.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Meet me on Monday
I'm doing a "Big Girl" thing, a normal thing, I guess, and doing Java's Meet me on Monday, a kind of get to know me post.... Meet Java over here... http://nevergrowingold.blogspot.com/2010/08/meet-me-on-monday_29.html
And me here
Questions:
1. What is your favorite kind of potato chip?
This is extremely difficult, but if we are just talking straight up POTATO chips, I think regular plain chips, but ruffles. They are the bestest for dipping. (But cheetos are my favorite "chips.)
2. Do you make your bed everyday?
How about NEVER? Unless I have company... But since I am never having company again because he died, I don't think I will ever have to make my bed again. :(
(Am I a Debbie Downer or what?)
(Not my real bed. ;) )
3. How often do you go to the hair salon?
Like twice a year. I'm too cheap. I just get a quickie hair cut too. When my mom was footing the bill we went to "Ricardo's" and it was a whole experience but now since I'm paying I get the quick trim at Supercuts and the star treatment in my own bathroom at home with chemicals coming out of a target bag, if applicable.
Then....
Now....
(This is not what I really look like. I'm a little chubbier. And not as cute.)
4. What do you dip your French fries in?
Depends on what kind of fries we are talking about. McDonald's fries? I love them best straight up. In n Out? If I am being really naughty, gimmie that 1000 Island dressing... ooooh baby. When I was in elementry school we used to beg the waitresses in restuarants to give us thousand island for our fries. Locally we have this place called Jack's Urban eats and they have something called "Urban Fries" which has fries dressed up with bleu cheese dressing, bleu cheese crumbles, spicy chilli oil, parsley flakes, and some chilli flakes too. Oh my is that good!
5. Do you shop with coupons?
When I was really, really hard up last year and at the beginning of this year I did. I got around $100 worth of groceries, name brand for $20 at my best shot. It's posted on my blog here if you want to check it out! http://adventuresinemilyland.blogspot.com/2010/03/it-could-have-been-better.html
And me here
Questions:
1. What is your favorite kind of potato chip?
This is extremely difficult, but if we are just talking straight up POTATO chips, I think regular plain chips, but ruffles. They are the bestest for dipping. (But cheetos are my favorite "chips.)
2. Do you make your bed everyday?
How about NEVER? Unless I have company... But since I am never having company again because he died, I don't think I will ever have to make my bed again. :(
(Am I a Debbie Downer or what?)
(Not my real bed. ;) )
3. How often do you go to the hair salon?
Like twice a year. I'm too cheap. I just get a quickie hair cut too. When my mom was footing the bill we went to "Ricardo's" and it was a whole experience but now since I'm paying I get the quick trim at Supercuts and the star treatment in my own bathroom at home with chemicals coming out of a target bag, if applicable.
Then....
Now....
(This is not what I really look like. I'm a little chubbier. And not as cute.)
4. What do you dip your French fries in?
Depends on what kind of fries we are talking about. McDonald's fries? I love them best straight up. In n Out? If I am being really naughty, gimmie that 1000 Island dressing... ooooh baby. When I was in elementry school we used to beg the waitresses in restuarants to give us thousand island for our fries. Locally we have this place called Jack's Urban eats and they have something called "Urban Fries" which has fries dressed up with bleu cheese dressing, bleu cheese crumbles, spicy chilli oil, parsley flakes, and some chilli flakes too. Oh my is that good!
5. Do you shop with coupons?
When I was really, really hard up last year and at the beginning of this year I did. I got around $100 worth of groceries, name brand for $20 at my best shot. It's posted on my blog here if you want to check it out! http://adventuresinemilyland.blogspot.com/2010/03/it-could-have-been-better.html
and then my pet fish died.
I got home from work awhile ago and the fish tank filter was pretty noisy because the water was low from the cats drinking all the water out of it, so I finally gave in and topped off the tank and I noticed something float up off the bottom so I turned on the light.
And there was my red baby betta Marlin. My one and only fish, my cat's pet, whom Matt and I picked out together with Tootie at PetSmart last August. We each picked out a fish and let Toulouse pick which one he wanted to bring home. This was right after our blue betta Dory died of old age... he was over 3.5 years old, maybe even 4. Lived a happy bachelor life in a big 10 gallon tank with some Finding Nemo plastic guys from the Disney store.
Marlin was all bloated and had a big bubble, an actual bubble, just attached to his side. I buried him in the same pot where Dory is buried on my front porch, with a flowering potato bush under a little frog with a silver ball sculpture.
And I am crying like a big, big baby. Because I needed just one more freaking thing to send me over the edge. Like I wasn't already over the cliff already. And now my fish is dead. And it wasn't just any fish, it was a fish we picked out together. Matt even held Tootie on the leash and managed to not look totally embarrassed to be walking a cat around in public.
Amelia is sitting next to the tank and watching it. She doesn't seem to have realized Marlin is gone yet. She must think he is hiding really good today.
:( :( :(
I want my fish. I want my boyfriend. I just want my life back. I hate my life right now. :(
Please don't let it get any worse. Please.
And there was my red baby betta Marlin. My one and only fish, my cat's pet, whom Matt and I picked out together with Tootie at PetSmart last August. We each picked out a fish and let Toulouse pick which one he wanted to bring home. This was right after our blue betta Dory died of old age... he was over 3.5 years old, maybe even 4. Lived a happy bachelor life in a big 10 gallon tank with some Finding Nemo plastic guys from the Disney store.
Marlin was all bloated and had a big bubble, an actual bubble, just attached to his side. I buried him in the same pot where Dory is buried on my front porch, with a flowering potato bush under a little frog with a silver ball sculpture.
And I am crying like a big, big baby. Because I needed just one more freaking thing to send me over the edge. Like I wasn't already over the cliff already. And now my fish is dead. And it wasn't just any fish, it was a fish we picked out together. Matt even held Tootie on the leash and managed to not look totally embarrassed to be walking a cat around in public.
Amelia is sitting next to the tank and watching it. She doesn't seem to have realized Marlin is gone yet. She must think he is hiding really good today.
:( :( :(
I want my fish. I want my boyfriend. I just want my life back. I hate my life right now. :(
Please don't let it get any worse. Please.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Always on the Edge.
I am always on the edge and I just hate it.
I am down to 175 now. Slowing down on the weight loss a little and eating a bit more so that is probably a good development. Probably the only one.
Tuesday night I realized that the appointment I thought I had at Kaiser on Wednesday was actually on Thursday and I flipped out and somehow talked myself into registering for the WPPI On the Road conference, which is basically a one day sampler photography conference, which if you go to it, you get free admission to the real week long conference in Las Vegas in February, which is really expensive. I definetly couldn't afford to go to the on the road conference but the realization that I was going to be home alone all day Wednesday just sent me over the edge and I went to the darn thing. It's the first and only photography education related thing I have ever been to and the only time in my life I have ever been around other photographers, which given the length and level of my success in this career, is totally bizarre.
The day ended up being half mediocre, a little nice, and a lot horrible. I made a big effort to eat lunch and I ended up throwing all of it up in the bathroom about 10 minutes after I finished and had a stomache ache the rest of the afternoon and had a sore throat from throwing up but I didn't want to leave because I had paid so much money to be there and if I left I wouldn't get the free admission to the big conference next year. Which, I don't even know if I want to go to, but if I end up wanting to go, I don't want to pay $500 or something if I could have gone for free!
Thursday I would describe as horiffic, and I was basically forced to graduate from the daily program I have been in, which scared the bejeezus out of me because now, how am I going to get any help? I ended up having a MAJOR breakdown with the psychiatrist, and was all over the place, crying one second and begging to stay and the next (still crying) shaking my head and saying I didn't belong there and I didn't want to be there any more. I felt like a lunatic and I told her so. I did graduate from the program with the understanding the the purpose of graduation is to set me up with more specific services to actually suit the needs I have right now to handle my problems. So that made sense and what she wanted to put me in made sense too. She registered me for a once a week group therapy thing with other people from IOP who had also graduated and then a 3 month class on how to cope with distressful situations.
Well it turns out you can only go to the group thing 3 times and the class won't start for over a month and I'm on a wait list!!! So what am I supposed to do now?!
After I graduated Thursday afternoon I basically went straight into the grad therapy group, where some other lady sucked up most of the time so I left feeling really tense and then I turned around and went straight into another group! I was at Kaiser from 840am to around 530pm or 6pm!
So the last one was a "re-entry" group to go to, which was very sadly organized and the leader was supposed to teach us about depression but he clicked through the slides so fast no one could even read them and he didn't even read them aloud himself or explain them! He was just like, ok, so this one is about depression, click and this one is on suicide, click, those are hotline numbers, click, click... I am so serious. THere were approximately 50 slides and he was done with the entire presentation in less than 10 minutes. The second he walked out everyone started complaining and exclaiming to each other on what on earth that was about. For me, the information was already stuff I knew, but I wasn't exactly pleased either and the other people in the class were pretty upset because it was new information to them.
After that we each got called individually to meet with either that guy or a woman, and the woman turned out to be my regular therapist. Well, while I was waiting to be called I was sitting next to another woman from IOP and was listening and chiming in a little on a conversation two other girls in the room were having about college- they were both biochem majors and both my best friend from college and my sister were biochem, so it is something I know a little bit about. One of the girls was going on a scholarship to a school out of state and someone asked her where.. Southern Oregon University. Where Matt went to school. And I triggered. Instantly.
I had time to say it, I said to Roberta (the woman next to me from IOP) that that was where Matt went to college, and then I started to hyperventilate, cry and panic. She grabbed me and grabbed my back and made me focus on the floor and started counting out my breaths and was telling me all that stuff they told us in class... You are in this moment, nothing bad is happening to you, you are okay, no one is going to hurt you, stuff like that. I would breathe a little bit but then I would lose it, start crying really hard and either hold my breath or start doing the shallow panting/hyperventilating thing. I can't even explain how awful this crap is. It is SO HORRIBLE. Somehow, Roberta kept me out of going into a full blown panic/anxiety attack and although it took a good 15 minutes she brought me back down. If she hadn't been there I don't know what would have happened. I probably would have run out the door and been flipping out int he parking lot like a complete lunatic. I am so glad she was there.
Tomorrow I have to go to work again and although I am not as anxious as I was last weekend, I don't want to go. I don't wnat to go by myself! I wish I had friends who could just go and be with me and hang out with me during these things, even to just drop by for a little while... They don't have to stay the whole time... Them being there at all is such a comfort.
I hate being here. I don't want to be alone. I just want to run away and hide and cry and I don't know what else.
You Utahians will be glad (or maybe you won't be glad given my current state of mental health) to know that if I do go to WPPI in Vegas in February, it does look like I will have a direct ride to SLC afterwards so I can come visit! Who wants me to come cry all over them and wipe snot on their shirt like a little kid first?
:(
I also finally bucked up and called LDS Family Services for therapy, since I am obviously not going to get what I need from Kaiser anymore and I am really now starting to get into serious breakdown stage (although I seem to be good at surpressing and stuffing my feelings alot of the time too) but they are SO expensive 9$112.50 initial appointment and $75 each after that! And really, I need to be seeing someone a couple times a week right now... at a minimum... I can't afford that!( and I need a referral from the Bishop and I'm not a member and the whole thing intimidates me and I tried to just find a regular therapist and there are so many and you don't know anything about any of them until you actually book an appointment and pay the money and meet them and they are so expensive too...
I am so overwhelmed and sad and I just want to hide. :(
I am down to 175 now. Slowing down on the weight loss a little and eating a bit more so that is probably a good development. Probably the only one.
Tuesday night I realized that the appointment I thought I had at Kaiser on Wednesday was actually on Thursday and I flipped out and somehow talked myself into registering for the WPPI On the Road conference, which is basically a one day sampler photography conference, which if you go to it, you get free admission to the real week long conference in Las Vegas in February, which is really expensive. I definetly couldn't afford to go to the on the road conference but the realization that I was going to be home alone all day Wednesday just sent me over the edge and I went to the darn thing. It's the first and only photography education related thing I have ever been to and the only time in my life I have ever been around other photographers, which given the length and level of my success in this career, is totally bizarre.
The day ended up being half mediocre, a little nice, and a lot horrible. I made a big effort to eat lunch and I ended up throwing all of it up in the bathroom about 10 minutes after I finished and had a stomache ache the rest of the afternoon and had a sore throat from throwing up but I didn't want to leave because I had paid so much money to be there and if I left I wouldn't get the free admission to the big conference next year. Which, I don't even know if I want to go to, but if I end up wanting to go, I don't want to pay $500 or something if I could have gone for free!
Thursday I would describe as horiffic, and I was basically forced to graduate from the daily program I have been in, which scared the bejeezus out of me because now, how am I going to get any help? I ended up having a MAJOR breakdown with the psychiatrist, and was all over the place, crying one second and begging to stay and the next (still crying) shaking my head and saying I didn't belong there and I didn't want to be there any more. I felt like a lunatic and I told her so. I did graduate from the program with the understanding the the purpose of graduation is to set me up with more specific services to actually suit the needs I have right now to handle my problems. So that made sense and what she wanted to put me in made sense too. She registered me for a once a week group therapy thing with other people from IOP who had also graduated and then a 3 month class on how to cope with distressful situations.
Well it turns out you can only go to the group thing 3 times and the class won't start for over a month and I'm on a wait list!!! So what am I supposed to do now?!
After I graduated Thursday afternoon I basically went straight into the grad therapy group, where some other lady sucked up most of the time so I left feeling really tense and then I turned around and went straight into another group! I was at Kaiser from 840am to around 530pm or 6pm!
So the last one was a "re-entry" group to go to, which was very sadly organized and the leader was supposed to teach us about depression but he clicked through the slides so fast no one could even read them and he didn't even read them aloud himself or explain them! He was just like, ok, so this one is about depression, click and this one is on suicide, click, those are hotline numbers, click, click... I am so serious. THere were approximately 50 slides and he was done with the entire presentation in less than 10 minutes. The second he walked out everyone started complaining and exclaiming to each other on what on earth that was about. For me, the information was already stuff I knew, but I wasn't exactly pleased either and the other people in the class were pretty upset because it was new information to them.
After that we each got called individually to meet with either that guy or a woman, and the woman turned out to be my regular therapist. Well, while I was waiting to be called I was sitting next to another woman from IOP and was listening and chiming in a little on a conversation two other girls in the room were having about college- they were both biochem majors and both my best friend from college and my sister were biochem, so it is something I know a little bit about. One of the girls was going on a scholarship to a school out of state and someone asked her where.. Southern Oregon University. Where Matt went to school. And I triggered. Instantly.
I had time to say it, I said to Roberta (the woman next to me from IOP) that that was where Matt went to college, and then I started to hyperventilate, cry and panic. She grabbed me and grabbed my back and made me focus on the floor and started counting out my breaths and was telling me all that stuff they told us in class... You are in this moment, nothing bad is happening to you, you are okay, no one is going to hurt you, stuff like that. I would breathe a little bit but then I would lose it, start crying really hard and either hold my breath or start doing the shallow panting/hyperventilating thing. I can't even explain how awful this crap is. It is SO HORRIBLE. Somehow, Roberta kept me out of going into a full blown panic/anxiety attack and although it took a good 15 minutes she brought me back down. If she hadn't been there I don't know what would have happened. I probably would have run out the door and been flipping out int he parking lot like a complete lunatic. I am so glad she was there.
Tomorrow I have to go to work again and although I am not as anxious as I was last weekend, I don't want to go. I don't wnat to go by myself! I wish I had friends who could just go and be with me and hang out with me during these things, even to just drop by for a little while... They don't have to stay the whole time... Them being there at all is such a comfort.
I hate being here. I don't want to be alone. I just want to run away and hide and cry and I don't know what else.
You Utahians will be glad (or maybe you won't be glad given my current state of mental health) to know that if I do go to WPPI in Vegas in February, it does look like I will have a direct ride to SLC afterwards so I can come visit! Who wants me to come cry all over them and wipe snot on their shirt like a little kid first?
:(
I also finally bucked up and called LDS Family Services for therapy, since I am obviously not going to get what I need from Kaiser anymore and I am really now starting to get into serious breakdown stage (although I seem to be good at surpressing and stuffing my feelings alot of the time too) but they are SO expensive 9$112.50 initial appointment and $75 each after that! And really, I need to be seeing someone a couple times a week right now... at a minimum... I can't afford that!( and I need a referral from the Bishop and I'm not a member and the whole thing intimidates me and I tried to just find a regular therapist and there are so many and you don't know anything about any of them until you actually book an appointment and pay the money and meet them and they are so expensive too...
I am so overwhelmed and sad and I just want to hide. :(
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Making Myself Clear
I write on this blog to keep people updated, you know, so they know I didn't die or that I didn't kill myself or something, and so that they kept in the loop.
But there are boundaries here I want to make clear.
I am sharing my feelings. My deepest, most honest, hurt, painful feelings. I am entitled to those feelings. In the words of the psychologist whom I saw only yesterday, my reaction to this, and the time period for which I am experiencing this is right on target and perfectly normal. There are stages of grief, and I have to go through them. I am sure it is different for everyone; in fact, I know it is. For me, my whole life was shattered from one hour to the next. Look at your partner. Think about how you feel about them. Think about all of the things in your relationship which you know as truths. If in an hour you found out that everything you have known in your life together to be truth and fact is suddenly... NOT... how do you even fathom that? Can you even understand that sentence?
How does a person stop drooling and staring and realize that what they are hearing is actually happening? How long does that take?
And I have been shocked. This entire story is unbelievable. And although I have been able to repeat the story several times, it doesn't mean I have been able to process it in any way shape or form. When it's not happening to YOU it is completely different. This is happening to ME. Not YOU. ME. This happened to me. I lost my partner, my future and everything I treasured in my life. About a year ago my friend's mom commented to me that all of my dreams were coming true. And they were. Do you know how precious it is to have your dreams come true? How special that is? How rare?
And where on Earth are you even supposed to begin to process it when you are suddenly informed those dreams are gone?
This is my blog and I am entitled to write, post, and leave pictures up however, and as long as, I like. (It is also too overwhelming for me to change stuff right now too. I'm not even looking at my blog, I'm just writing it.) It is extremely hurtful and upsetting for me to get comments, emails and IM's from people telling me I should be this way or that way and I need to do this or that. Not only is it upsetting, but I am now saying it isn't okay either. It doesn't do any good. You are all entitled to your own opinions and feelings and I am leaving this blog public, however, by sharing those opinions directly with ME -who is actually going through the experience right now, the worst experience of my life, you aren't doing anything helpful. You are hurting and upsetting me. This is something that has now happened with at minimum half a dozen people. This is what I risked by sharing what happened, but maybe if I speak up now, it will help other people put themselves in my situation and see perhaps what is and is not tolerable and unacceptable behavior/actions/comments/etc. We are all opinionated. But we have to remember that opinions need to come after empathy and sympathy. Because opinions serve ourselves and sympathy serves others.
I love Matt. I love the man that I knew, who took care of me, who thought I was beautiful, intelligent, the smartest person he knew. That there wasn't anything I couldn't do if I set my mind to it. I loved his hugs and smile and reassurance and the open way he shared his feelings and love for me. I have never been so happy or so secure in a relationship before. (Nor had I ever been so full of myself after all of his compliments!)
Despite everything, even with my intellectual and logical side chiming in here, I am still grateful for the relationship I had with the Matt that I knew because it taught me I could be happy. That I was special. That I was someone to be treasured. No one has ever made me feel as wonderful as he did. Honestly, in my entire life, I had never been so happy as I had been as when I was with him. It was such a weight off my shoulders, such a relief and exuberance of joy to finally KNOW what it was to be loved. That I could be loved! That I was loved! And it was amazing. And I felt amazing and wonderful every second of every day that I was with him, and I told him so!
Regardless of what was going on in his reality, the relationship he had with me WAS real to me, in every sense of the word, and I had never been so happy before. I remember smiling SO BIG and telling him just how happy I was! I didn't know, or have the faith that I would ever get that kind of joy out of my life, and HE is the one who gave it to me. I cannot emphasize that enough. I had never been so happy as I was in the moments I spent with him. Particularly early on in our relationship. The day we told each other we loved each other, I was over the moon. And you proabably could have gotten a tan from just looking at me, I was radiating so much sunshine!
But, the man that I knew is gone. He is not in that house with that woman and that child either. He is gone. He is someone that was dreamed up, or maybe what the real Matt wished for himself, maybe the kind of person he really wanted to be. I will never know. All I know, is that I truly loved Matt Timmons, and he has passed away from my life and won't be able to return to any place or time in the future or past.
For all intents and purposes, he has died. And I miss him dearly. And if that is how I chose to cope with this, and it helps me, and my psychologist thinks that this is healthy, and an appropriate reaction to this, then by golly, regardless of what anyone says, that is what is going to happen. Let me greive my loss. There is a process to this, and this is the first step. We can't just jump from Step 1 to Step 5. It's a process. I'm on Step 1. So let me be on 1. Let me sit here, on one, with my box of Kleenex, and my boyfriend's ratty old t-shirt and miss him. Because that's where I am and that's what I need to do to take care of me right now.
There is a time for anger. But it is not right now. I'm not an angry person to begin with. I never got angry with my previous ex and I had plenty to be angry with him about. It's probably more likely than not that I will eventually simply feel sad and feel sorry for the real Matt and whatever drove him to do this and hope that he becomes a better person in the future and truly repents his mistakes.
But my Matty? I loved my Matty. He loved my cats. He accepted me for who I was. And he even didn't mind that I put the milk carton back in the fridge empty sometimes. He thought it was cute.
Be kind... I love all of your comments and suggestions and I read them all and I look forward to hearing from all of you, but please be aware of the kind of state I am in right now and that unless it's going to help me, or soothe me, or even just make me feel not alone and know that you're there... save it for another time.
Thank you guys for sticking around and reading... even though I'm officially a mental patient with a poop-load of cats now. (=Crazy cat lady)
But there are boundaries here I want to make clear.
I am sharing my feelings. My deepest, most honest, hurt, painful feelings. I am entitled to those feelings. In the words of the psychologist whom I saw only yesterday, my reaction to this, and the time period for which I am experiencing this is right on target and perfectly normal. There are stages of grief, and I have to go through them. I am sure it is different for everyone; in fact, I know it is. For me, my whole life was shattered from one hour to the next. Look at your partner. Think about how you feel about them. Think about all of the things in your relationship which you know as truths. If in an hour you found out that everything you have known in your life together to be truth and fact is suddenly... NOT... how do you even fathom that? Can you even understand that sentence?
How does a person stop drooling and staring and realize that what they are hearing is actually happening? How long does that take?
And I have been shocked. This entire story is unbelievable. And although I have been able to repeat the story several times, it doesn't mean I have been able to process it in any way shape or form. When it's not happening to YOU it is completely different. This is happening to ME. Not YOU. ME. This happened to me. I lost my partner, my future and everything I treasured in my life. About a year ago my friend's mom commented to me that all of my dreams were coming true. And they were. Do you know how precious it is to have your dreams come true? How special that is? How rare?
And where on Earth are you even supposed to begin to process it when you are suddenly informed those dreams are gone?
This is my blog and I am entitled to write, post, and leave pictures up however, and as long as, I like. (It is also too overwhelming for me to change stuff right now too. I'm not even looking at my blog, I'm just writing it.) It is extremely hurtful and upsetting for me to get comments, emails and IM's from people telling me I should be this way or that way and I need to do this or that. Not only is it upsetting, but I am now saying it isn't okay either. It doesn't do any good. You are all entitled to your own opinions and feelings and I am leaving this blog public, however, by sharing those opinions directly with ME -who is actually going through the experience right now, the worst experience of my life, you aren't doing anything helpful. You are hurting and upsetting me. This is something that has now happened with at minimum half a dozen people. This is what I risked by sharing what happened, but maybe if I speak up now, it will help other people put themselves in my situation and see perhaps what is and is not tolerable and unacceptable behavior/actions/comments/etc. We are all opinionated. But we have to remember that opinions need to come after empathy and sympathy. Because opinions serve ourselves and sympathy serves others.
I love Matt. I love the man that I knew, who took care of me, who thought I was beautiful, intelligent, the smartest person he knew. That there wasn't anything I couldn't do if I set my mind to it. I loved his hugs and smile and reassurance and the open way he shared his feelings and love for me. I have never been so happy or so secure in a relationship before. (Nor had I ever been so full of myself after all of his compliments!)
Despite everything, even with my intellectual and logical side chiming in here, I am still grateful for the relationship I had with the Matt that I knew because it taught me I could be happy. That I was special. That I was someone to be treasured. No one has ever made me feel as wonderful as he did. Honestly, in my entire life, I had never been so happy as I had been as when I was with him. It was such a weight off my shoulders, such a relief and exuberance of joy to finally KNOW what it was to be loved. That I could be loved! That I was loved! And it was amazing. And I felt amazing and wonderful every second of every day that I was with him, and I told him so!
Regardless of what was going on in his reality, the relationship he had with me WAS real to me, in every sense of the word, and I had never been so happy before. I remember smiling SO BIG and telling him just how happy I was! I didn't know, or have the faith that I would ever get that kind of joy out of my life, and HE is the one who gave it to me. I cannot emphasize that enough. I had never been so happy as I was in the moments I spent with him. Particularly early on in our relationship. The day we told each other we loved each other, I was over the moon. And you proabably could have gotten a tan from just looking at me, I was radiating so much sunshine!
But, the man that I knew is gone. He is not in that house with that woman and that child either. He is gone. He is someone that was dreamed up, or maybe what the real Matt wished for himself, maybe the kind of person he really wanted to be. I will never know. All I know, is that I truly loved Matt Timmons, and he has passed away from my life and won't be able to return to any place or time in the future or past.
For all intents and purposes, he has died. And I miss him dearly. And if that is how I chose to cope with this, and it helps me, and my psychologist thinks that this is healthy, and an appropriate reaction to this, then by golly, regardless of what anyone says, that is what is going to happen. Let me greive my loss. There is a process to this, and this is the first step. We can't just jump from Step 1 to Step 5. It's a process. I'm on Step 1. So let me be on 1. Let me sit here, on one, with my box of Kleenex, and my boyfriend's ratty old t-shirt and miss him. Because that's where I am and that's what I need to do to take care of me right now.
There is a time for anger. But it is not right now. I'm not an angry person to begin with. I never got angry with my previous ex and I had plenty to be angry with him about. It's probably more likely than not that I will eventually simply feel sad and feel sorry for the real Matt and whatever drove him to do this and hope that he becomes a better person in the future and truly repents his mistakes.
But my Matty? I loved my Matty. He loved my cats. He accepted me for who I was. And he even didn't mind that I put the milk carton back in the fridge empty sometimes. He thought it was cute.
Be kind... I love all of your comments and suggestions and I read them all and I look forward to hearing from all of you, but please be aware of the kind of state I am in right now and that unless it's going to help me, or soothe me, or even just make me feel not alone and know that you're there... save it for another time.
Thank you guys for sticking around and reading... even though I'm officially a mental patient with a poop-load of cats now. (=Crazy cat lady)
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