Like Falling Leaves and Spring Green…

A lot has happened in the past few months.

I’m getting more accustomed to my job and I’m starting to enjoy it.  That being said, the people who I work with aren’t so great.  They all seem to be out to get one another and look for others to make mistakes.  Once someone makes a mistake the managers will get a screen shot or email of the mistake.

I dunno…maybe I’m a little sensitive.  But, I feel that people are always going to make mistakes and that, instead of pointing out everyone else’s imperfections, one should take it up privately with the other person and help to correct the mistake.  However, it seems to be a never-ending cycle in my workplace.  One person rats out another and that other person becomes vindictive and does the same to another person.  I refuse to take part in that kind of behavior.

*SIGH*…Anyway, I have been doing a lot better.  At least, I feel like I’m doing a lot better.  I have never gotten back on my medications or gone back to see my therapist.  I’m great at my job and I even have another–more promising–job offer with a very well known company.  I hope that I will stay ok…  However, part of me feels like I must be in a hypomanic state and that I will probably end up crashing in a few months.  We’ll see…  I can never seem to commit to getting help for my depression.

Moving on…someone asked me what it was like in the psych hospital.  hmm…  I can only answer from my own experience.  But, I will get back to you on that…  It feels like a distant memory or a dream.  Yet, it was only six months ago.  It still feels somewhat surreal and I feel like a new person.  I feel like a part of me died off–kind of like the leaves on a tree.  I feel new and fresh now.  I’m different and I’m happy…

I think I can’t…

I’m feeling slightly better today.  I say “slightly” because I keep having these terrible mood swings.  They seem to be more frequent at night when I have a quiet moment to myself.  It’s frustrating and I’m thinking of taking one of my Ambien tonight to help me get to sleep…

Moving on…I’m considering turning in an official resignation letter tomorrow.  I mean, let’s face it, I’ve been miserable with this new job since day one.  I hate to keep bouncing from job to job, but I need to take care of myself.

Did I mention that I expressed to my boss that I was thinking of resigning?  Yes, I told her a couple of weeks ago and I got a raise.  Nonetheless, I’m still thinking of leaving.  It’s nice to have extra cash.  However, I wonder if this is the time when I should take a stand and leave a situation that is making me unhappy.  Maybe it’s a test??? I don’t know what to do and my husband tells me that I should leave if it’s making me so miserable.  *sigh*…  Maybe it’s me.   Maybe I’m the problem–not the job.

Obviously, I am part the problem.  I can’t begin to explain how frustrating it is to feel like this.  People don’t understand that I can’t just stop the mood swings and be happy.  I look back a few months, when I first got out of the hospital, and I was so happy.  It was the most wonderful feeling and I would love to be back in that place.  Hmm…maybe being off of my medication and not going to therapy has caused me to drift back to where I am now?  I know it’s part of the reason, but I’m still in denial.

This is what depression does…  Once it takes hold, it doesn’t let go easily.

Square 1…or whatever it is.

I feel like a zombie.

I thought I was getting better; but, all of my emotions feel so fake.  I’m pulling away from every one.  Yet, I act like everything is okay.  I still talk to my friends, go out, and do all of the things a normal person should be doing.  Inside, I feel empty.  I’ve become a robot and I don’t know what to do.  I just want to cry.  But, the tears won’t come.  I don’t know what’s wrong or why I’m feeling this way.  I’m so tired of this.

I’m tired of it all… It all hurts.  It hurts so much.

I feel cheated…

I’ve been very busy this week. It’s been sort of a tough transition for me to go from not working for a full three months to getting up early every morning and having a full day of work. I like my new job; however, I’m hating the reality of it. I’m not sure if that makes any sense. Anyway, I feel like I was sort of cheated and roped into accepting this position. I work a full eight hours and we don’t really have time for breaks.  I only get about 10-15 minutes to sit down and quickly eat my lunch. In between that eating, if the phone rings, or someone asks me to do something, I have to do it. I really feel like this is something they should have made more clear to me. It upsets me and I don’t know if I just need to stop complaining and accept it.  I feel like I don’t have an understanding of “the real world”…  I should get over it and stop complaining…

In other news, I have been so emotional lately. I still haven’t gotten around to taking my medicine or even calling in my prescriptions. So, as I sit and type this, I will call in every single one of my prescriptions. I will have my husband pick them up and then I will force myself to take them. Well, just my luck… The line is busy.

Back to me being emotional… My emotions have been all over the place. At times, suicidal thoughts pop into my head. At other times, like when I’m at work, I am bubbly and I don’t feel like I’m faking it.

I haven’t seen my therapist, psychiatrist, or gotten my thyroid checked out like I’m supposed to. I keep making excuses for myself and I don’t know why. I feel so tired… I’m avoiding phone calls, people, everything… I don’t know what has me so afraid.

Another cycle of change

It’s 3.45 am and I’m anxious. I have a job interview in about seven hours. I don’t know why I’m nervous. I always do really well with interviews and I applied less than a week ago. I’m pretty sure I’ll get the job. But, I dunno.

I had a really good job opportunity come up a few months ago and the woman doing the hiring keeps putting me off. She saw my husband on Sunday and told him to be looking out for a phone call this week. It’s almost business hours, Wednesday, for them. I wonder if I’ll get the call. I really hope I do. Both jobs are good, but I’d really like to hear from her. We’ll see.

Therapy wasn’t so great this week. I read her a few of my posts again, but it didn’t seem to help. I’m feeling much better. I think that’s part of the reason. When I was really depressed, it helped to get out all of those negative emotions. The same issues are still present but, I’ve seemed to have buried them for the time being and I wonder when my next cycle of depression will hit.

In other news, my mother-in-law is coming down in a few days. I’m so excited about driving to the airport and showing her our first home. I love her. I think that I’m getting too much excitement in one week!

I had bronchitis all last week and it was horrendous. I was so tired and I could barely breaths. Good news though, I’ve been cleared to start procreating. So, I am very excited about the prospect of starting a family. I hope I don’t get to obsessed with it though.

That’s all. Just a happy post from a happy camper–nothing insightful. Take care…

The Sky is Starting to Open Up ♥

I’m starting to feel a lot better these days. My doctor increased the dosage of my medication and I’m starting to see the effects on my mood.

So often when I was depressed, thoughts of suicide would pop into my mind. But, I knew it was my depression that was making me feel that way and not my destiny. My faith in Christ and my past experiences with depression, left me with a sense of hope. I knew that things would get better.

I still haven’t gone back to work. I still have a messy laundry room. I still have few friends that I can open up to. But, I have hope for better things. I am a better person after getting out of the hospital and I have found a new path in life.

This month has brought about many changes in my outlook on life and my lifestyle. It was only a few months ago, that I was working long hours at a job that I hated. I lived a very sinful lifestyle and didn’t think much about God or my future. It seems so trite. Many times people reach out to God in times of trouble. I have been dealing with my mental illness for a little over 11 years now. I never reached out to God during those times. I thought, “How can I be sure that God loves me when I feel this way. Shouldn’t he be pulling me out of this depression and blessing me with great things such as money and happiness?”

That kind of thinking acts as a toxin. It did in my case, at least. I’ve learned that there will be many dark times. It’s not God’s way of punishing me or abandoning me, but we all have a path that he has ordained for each and every one of us and there will be times when we don’t understand.

I quit my job, went to the psychiatric hospital, and changed my lifestyle all in one month. At first, I felt a new zest for life. I adopted positive thinking and even with all of that positive thinking, I fell into a deep depression. The sun would shine brightly yet, I felt encompassed in darkness.

Things are starting to look up. I feel happier and motivated. My husband, who is in the military, is thinking about training for a new career field. I feel like good things are about to start happening in our lives. We may not become richer, but we will be happier.

For once, I have the desire to start a family. I grew up in a very critical environment and my parents were not the most nurturing. I always had the fear in the back of my mind that I would treat my children the same way that I was treated. I rejected the idea of starting a family. I rejected the idea of nurturing someone else and shaping them with my beliefs and world view.

I am loving life right now. I am loving my life. Even though I am still jobless and tight for money, I am loving my life.

I am loving my life.

Hajime: to start or begin.

I walked into therapy today, nervous and shaken. I had gotten into a rather trivial argument with my husband before I left. Nevertheless, arguments–even trivial ones–always seem to put me a little on edge.

I brought my homework, which consisted of my journal entries here.

Every time I walk into that room, it makes me think of Alice and Wonderland. There is a checkered couch–blue and white. It has a throw on it that someone’s grandmother probably made, and these dark blue pillows in some faux denim material. To the right of the couch is an old, white built-in bookcase. It has books, of course, as well as playing cards, old dolls, and board games.

My therapist is very slim. She has shoulder-length blonde hair and a smile. She looks like Glenda–the good witch.

Anyway, I sat down in my usual spot. I always sit on the right side of the couch and rest on my pillow. I told my therapist, hoping and praying that she wouldn’t ask more about it, that I did my homework. Of course, doing what a therapist does, she asked and I got up the courage to read her my first entry Letter to My Parents.

I was nervous. I hemmed and hahed for a few moments before I read. At first, I kept my composure pretty well. Then, my voice started choking, I felt wetness in my eyes, and then I cried. I cried as I read the letter. I hadn’t reread the letter since I wrote it. All of those old, little girl feelings, that I thought I had gotten rid of, came flowing out in the form of tears.

I’ve been thinking about that moment all day. I don’t think I cried when I wrote that entry. When people ask me about my past, why I quit school, I relate the story to them without emotion.

I want to get that moment back. I felt so comfortable. It was a very selfish moment. For once, my feelings in regard to the way I was raised, were out there. I read the letter as if I were reading it to my parents. I felt a release inside of me. The hurt is still there; however, only slightly.

It was empowering. I am an adult. I do not have to live up to their standards and wishy washy ways anymore. I love them. But, at the same time, I also love myself.

This road has been so bumpy. At times, I feel as if I don’t know where I’m heading to next. I’m learning to love myself, however. I learning to love me. I am not perfect and I never will be. Logically, I’ve known that for so long. But, now I can really admit it to myself.  I can admit it to the part of me that withdraws and is afraid to cry or have negative feelings.

I am not perfect. Flaws, quirks, this cackling laugh–it’s all me.

I can love myself. I can and I will. I’m already starting.

-U.M.