Wednesday, February 29, 2012


I've been meaning to get here for weeks to talk.  I've been going through some pretty intense withdrawal symptoms from reducing Respirdol for the last nine months.  My sensitivity to light is overwhelming.  Even with gray, overcast days the bland light reflecting off the snow and clouds makes being outside or looking out a window unbearable.  Depression has been creeping in, I'm struggling with racing thoughts and lack of sleep.  I also starting smoking outside to cut down and anyone who has ever smoked knows how crazy nicotine withdrawal can be. 

The worst has been the lack of sleep, I finally started taking a couple Valerian Root capsules when I can't control the zooming in my head.  They are herbal and don't knock me out or make me feel drowsy in the morning.  I don't even notice them working, they are that mild, but they do help me sleep better and wake up feeling a little more clear headed. 

It the midst of some rather life changing news, some old feelings have been stirring from my abuse and with this news they finally burst.  I have two days to figure out how to handle what I think is one of the most dramatic changes I will have been through yet.  And if the weather isn't enough to test my sanity, this change will certainly push every envelope that isn't open yet.  I've already slipped on my "smoking outside" quest this past week and that was before this bombshell was dropped.  One minute I think I can handle it, the next I think there is no way possible.  And whether I think I can or can't, it is happening so far to my knowledge.  I was already wavering on whether to follow through with this half dose of meds before this news and by this weekend I'm sure I will be questioning it even more.

This change challenges everything about my self-worth, competency, faith, and having to separate what I have believed myself to be responsible for in my past and having to be a mature adult.  I'm scared out of my mind and at the same time feel OK, until I start falling apart again.  This change will challenge everything I've learned so far and everything I don't.  Besides trying to get over the shock of what is about to happen, it stirs up every emotion and feeling from all the way back to all the way forward and it has been a lot to take in since yesterday.  As it always seems, just when everything seemed to be coming together is right when it all gets blown apart.  I keep trying to step back and take it in small chunks, but it is so hard not to get bowled over in the complexity of the situation.

Somewhere I keep thinking, there's a reason, a higher purpose, and that someone up there is watching over all of this with more love than I can imagine.  I guess if I made it through the impossible and still doing it, I can do this too.  At least I hope so.      

Friday, February 10, 2012


I feel like I've just run out of words.  Every time I try to come here, I sit and look and turn away.  I've been bipolar for as long as I can remember, I've been abused just as long.  I keep finding myself at so many different points and places through the day it is hard to know where to start.

I went to get dressed the other day, deciding between two pairs of jeans and just wanted to scream.  My clothes haven't fit right since I gained weight being on meds, because I'm bipolar, because I've been abused.  And it was like being hit by a freight train all over again.  The ramifications of what THEY did to ME.  It doesn't matter that I've done pretty good at losing the weight, reducing meds, eating better, exercising, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH!!!  It's the REASON I got that way in the first place.  WHY IN THE HELL DO I HAVE TO CLEAN UP THEIR FUCKING MESS??  AS IF ISN'T  BAD ENOUGH WHAT MY ABUSERS DID TO ME IN THE FIRST PLACE, THEN I HAVE TO FUCKING RELIVE IT IN ORDER TO HEAL???   WHY IN THE HELL DO I HAVE DO ALL THE WORK TO HEAL FROM WHAT THEY DID TO ME??  HOW IS THAT FAIR AND JUST??  WHY DO I HAVE TO LIVE BY A THREAD OF SANITY FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE WHILE THEY JUST CARRY ON??  WHY IS IT THAT NO MATTER WHAT, IT IS ALL STILL LEFT ON MY SHOULDERS??  IT DOESN'T MATTER IF I SCREAM OR SHOUT, CRY, GRIEVE, LIVE, DIE OR JUST PLAIN ACCEPT IT, IT WILL NEVER CHANGE THE FACTS OF WHAT THEY DID NOR THE FACT THAT I'M THE ONE WHO HAS TO LIVE WITH IT.  WHERE IS THE JUSTICE??  AND EVEN IF THEY WERE PUNISHED IT WOULD NEVER CHANGE ANY FACT OF MY LIFE OR THE HEALING PROCESS OR REVERSE ALL THE DAMAGE THEY DID.  HOW IN HELL DO YOU PROCESS THAT??

The jeans are just one example of many that I MUST deal with on a daily basis.  The doctor said I had fibromyalga (sp?), from PTSD, another living example the damage THEY incurred.  A constant reminder of the living hell I was put through, have "survived" and is still ramming me up against the wall today.  As if the abuse wasn't enough to begin with....I am still paying for THEIR price.  What the hell is wrong with this picture?