May 9, 2008 at 7:07 pm (Ramblings)
Tags: death, suicidal, suicide, truth
In the midst of the crap storm, what is Truth? What do I choose to believe despite how I feel?
Truth…There are people who love me and WANT me to stick around.
Truth…My children will be less screwed up if I’m around to screw them up personally than if I were gone.
Truth…Suicidal thoughts are NOT a desire for death, but a desire for the cessation of pain. Somehow, at some point, the pain will abate.
Truth…This too shall pass.
Everything else must wait. My ears must be closed to all else but these, My Truths.
+Charlotte+
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May 6, 2008 at 10:14 pm (Ramblings)
Tags: coworkers, decline, job, suck
I love my job, I love my job, I love my job, I love my job, I love my job, I love my job, I love my job, I love my job, I love my job, I love my job, I love my job, I love my job, I love my job, I love my job…
BUT…
Today is starting to suck. Two coworkers out sick, their job duties added to mine, 33+ projects to do, 2 HOT projects due today and tomorrow morning (not started one yet), and the announcement that one of my team is transferring to a different department in 2 weeks…
I am slowly becoming a very, VERY unhappy camper.
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April 30, 2008 at 4:31 am (Ramblings)
Tags: drown, tired, waves
I am a failure
And a disappointment
I live up to no ones expectations
Least of all my own
I am a lousy wife
And a terrible mom
I am tired
So tired
of climbing the waves
But who will care for my children if I drown?
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April 23, 2008 at 6:43 am (Ramblings)
Tags: cynical, depression, fear, hospital, shame, shrink
Charlotte here:
I have my first shrink appointment tomorrow. (At least, the first such appointment in almost seven years.) It’s possible they’ll send me over for a ‘vacation’ at the hospital. I hope not. Mostly. Part of me is scared of what will happen if they don’t. I have to dig out of this hole. I have fought and clawed my way up. I don’t know why I can’t climb anymore. Perhaps I’ve eroded the walls with my clawing. Or perhaps like the swimmer caught too far out, I just don’t have any energy left to fight.
Some things have finally started going right for us. But the 1 1/2 year onslaught has left me exhausted and somewhat cynical. I have seemingly ridiculous fears. But then, how ridiculous are they in the face of past experience?
I feel weak. My response to my own weakness has always been to fake strength until I could pull it off. Now that I can no longer fake it, I feel shame. Shame that I am as weak as I always feared I might be. Shame that I am as weak as someone once told me I was. I’ve wanted so badly to prove them wrong.
Damn genetics. Damn weakness. Damn depression. Damn loss of faith in myself.
I trust God. I don’t get Him, but I trust Him. I MUST believe He gets me – or it’s all lost.
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April 23, 2008 at 12:33 am (Ramblings)
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April 19, 2008 at 12:09 am (Ramblings)
Tags: facade, hollow, scream, strength
How loud must I scream before someone hears me?
“Say cheese!” In response, I smile. How do they not see that the smile is hollow – lips, not eyes?
I work so hard to protect those in my care. When I falter, they balk. Strength is my job. My façade of strength allows them the façade of wholeness. If I have no needs, they have not failed in meeting my needs.
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April 17, 2008 at 5:45 am (Ramblings)
Tags: authority figures, dreams
I’ve been having vivid dreams. Not sure if it’s the Lexapro or just life, but I’ve been having really vivid dreams. Some are just wild, but others are significant. Perhaps my subconscious working out how I feel about some things?
There are two that stand out to me. In the first, my hair is cut into a man’s haircut. I even have a beard. It’s me. But me groomed as a man. N has been cutting my hair and doing a great job. He’s cutting my hair, but I ask him to please shave the beard. “I don’t want it anymore. The haircut is okay, but please shave the beard.”
The second dream came last night. I was in a building at night. Although it did not resemble the ‘real life’ place, I knew what it was. I heard a man saying, “Is someone still in here? I was about to lock up.” This was a man I know, an authority figure ‘T’. He offered to walk me out. As we were about to leave, we could see through the glassed in front area a truck pull up. Dangerous looking men piled out of it and headed toward the door. T locked the door, but they came in through another entrance close by. The dangerous men told us we could leave. T walked through the door, but as I tried to exit they blocked the exit and locked me in. T looked back at me as I screamed in terror, then proceeded to walk away. I was raped. Survived only because I fought back myself. I woke up more upset about the feeling of abandonment than being attacked.
I have a pretty good idea what these dreams represent, but I wouldn’t mind feedback before I go into what I think they mean.
Signed, Charlotte
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April 14, 2008 at 10:47 pm (Ramblings)
Tags: depressed, disability, disabled, paperwork, The Secret
Thought I should introduce myself before I blather on about all sorts of things.
My name is Charlotte. I am older than 25 (by more than 4 years). Married to ‘N’. Two precious young daughters, ‘R’ and ‘O.’
This is the part where I say I feel stupid and am not sure what to write. A million dialogues filter through my brain at 3:00 am when I am laying in bed praying to relax enough to sleep. Maybe later I’ll reconnect enough with myself to remember them.
As to how I fit on this particular blog – I am occasionally depressed and, lately, frequently anxious. There are moments when I function normally. Other moments when I hole up in my house and hope the phone doesn’t ring. Lately, I have avoided most gatherings. I don’t want to pretend, yet I feel I must.
My husband became disabled last fall. When we see friends, the most common response is, “Well, we’re just going to believe he’s going to wake up one morning completely healed.” I want to say, “Good for you! You’ve just made yourself feel better while completely absolving yourself of any need to provide emotional assistance. Because you BELIEVE he’s going to get better. How very The Secret of you.”
I’ve been living in a strangely real, real world. A world that combines caring for two precious little girls — with caring for my previously patient, physically able husband. A world that combines starting a home business with filling out reams of paperwork for disability. Do you know how discouraging it is to know that all that paperwork will automatically be rejected the first go-round?
I guess I found a little of that 3:00am angst.
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