Sunday, August 17, 2014


I am just feeling like a big mess. A big, raw puddle of nerves, sadness, pain, longing and despair.  I am not ready to work. I'm not ready to pretend to be ok. I am terrified and I hurt, all the god damn  time. I feel crazy. I feel small. Incapable. Useless. Terrified. 

I visited my brother's church today. I sobbed through all of the songs... they all reminded me of him.

I don't know how to be alive anymore. I hate waking up in the morning.  The only peace I feel is at night, when the darkness matches my mood. 

My kids start school tomorrow. I start work Tuesday. I see my pain management doctor friday. My soul is pleading: Please let me be ok. Please let me handle it. Please let me find a routine again.  Please help me keep my kids safe and happy.

I'm surrounded by love and support and I still feel so alone. So lost. So broken. 

Please. Just, please.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

All The Things

Summer is almost over. So far, here is how mine has gone:
80 bazillion trips to the emergency room.
Days upon days of laying in bed, or, if I'm feeling especially sassy, laying on the couch.
Complete and total nervous breakdown.
Cycling through doctors who a.) Don't believe me b.) Don't care to try and help me and c.) Think that I enjoy birthing a stalactite through my pee hole every two weeks.
Battling suicidal thoughts. Like, daily. The internal monolouge telling me that I am a waste of space,  worthless and undeserving of grace is loud and terrifying.
Isolating myself from the people I love, simply because I can't even stand to be in my own skin.
Constantly having to break the few plans I did try to make because the angry weasels that live in my kidneys decided it was time to party.
Gaining weight while simultaneously having absolutely no appetite.
Doing absolutely none of the projects or creative pursuits that I was looking forward to getting done.
Becoming increasingly agoraphobic, to the point that going anywhere by myself is extremely difficult.
Yeah. Things aren't good, but there are good things happening.  I enrolled in and will start college classes in a few weeks.  I'm double majoring in hospitality management and health care administration. I have 28 classes to go until I get a piece of paper that I hope will allow me to be self sufficient and maybe not have to spend 16 hours a day on my feet.
I'm in outpatient psychiatric care with a team of people who are really helping me to face & deal with the emotional trauma I've experienced. It is helping, little by little.
I've found at least one doctor who is compassionate,  caring and seems excited to learn more about the disease I have. Though he is limited in what he can do for me, he has gone to bat for me and pushed through red tape to help me get the care I need.  
My relationships with my family have grown even stronger. My kids are ok. I am honest with them about how much I am struggling & hope I am setting an example for them in self care and growth. I'm leaning heavily on the help I have.
So this is where I am at. I know I am alienating people,  people who only want me to be ok. But I can't - and won't - pretend.  I am not ok. I will be someday and that someday may be in a year or it may be in 10 years.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014


Tomorrow Jason would have turned 40.

I miss him so much. I don't know what to do... how do you celebrate a life cut too short? How do you give the day meaning when that person is no longer there?

He never liked fuss. Never wanted a big to-do, though I always ignored him and did it anyway. Secretly,  he liked it. He was just like that, stoic.

So I will cry again. I will lament & wail & weep and hope that in the years to come celebration may outweigh despair,  even just a little.