Friday, December 30, 2016

Why the Holidays Nearly Kill Me Annually

I'm in recovery, I didn't have surgery or any major illness. Just people overload.
I feel like I need to explain myself, for those wondering, why I become so anti-social around October until close to February... And here it is.

I'm hungover. In a sense.
My social reserves have run dry.

Between Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve., Christmas Day, Christmas Night, New Years Eve, and New Years Day, I work around 20-30 hours of overtime per paycheck. I enjoy being able to pay the rent and utilities with one check. It takes its toll.

The social obligations drain me the most though. Family, more so than friends.

I always assumed the seasonal depression that nearly cripples me for the final quarter of the year was due to the weather, but with recent events of Christmas I realize.

It's too much social interaction.
A small peak into how my mind works before meeting some friends.

I go through approved topics, what they enjoy talking about, news, upcoming plans,future excitements, just small talk and catch up.
Planning on what we will be doing, how long, where, when.
What if time runs over? What if traffic is bad etc...

This is for one on one meetings.
A Party is different. The list adds

Who's going, who's not going, who knows what about me and my life, what is oversharing, who overshares, who undershares, who really wants someone to talk to just to talk, and who needs to be left alone. Added to the thoughts above for the one on one meeting with a friend.

Hanging out with a coworker? Rarely happens. I've had too many instances where coworkers used whatever happened outside of work against me. I have to be able to click with someone. Know what they like, how to talk with them, their sense of humor, etc. Then there's the constant ceonsorship of what I say, do, act.

Then there's family.

Mother's side of the family is far easier to talk to than my father's. The list is more like the friends prep list.

Father's side gets to be long. Add it to the friends party, hanging with a coworker, as well as, the inescapable feeling of having such a large family in a single home.

Case point: This Christmas, after about six tries to get the family together, and this is not even half of them.


Added to the individual, and the only questions being: Where do you work now? and... Oh wait...
We were told on more than one occasion "I hope you find something that makes you happy."
Yes I already have found it. Thank you. 

But this isn't a rant about my family. I love them, but they drain my supplies like nobody's business.

The crushing depression that comes over me after each party takes longer to overcome with the long hours of work. I come home and all I can really do is sit, eat, and then sleep. Wake up, force myself out of bed, to go to work or the next social obligation.


And that is what these holiday parties have become. Even for my smaller, more relaxed mother's side of the family. It still takes so much out of me. Most of these events happen after a graveyard shift, or very little sleep which only makes me irritable and impatient. My anxiety is already at a 7\10 on a daily basis, added to the holiday stress it comes to a 9, 
After Christmas Night's dinner, I was nearly in tears, shaking, and doing all I can to keep myself together until I crawl into bed again. 

It's been 12 hours of sleep on my days off, and I know I'll be recovering well until late January.
It seems contradictory, since I go to New Years Eve Parties, and have friends over early in the year.


I just need understanding, I'm not being antisocial on purpose. I just need recovery time. I have a social hangover, and the cure is a lot of sleep and recharge.
I usually get insanely sick anyway so that helps a lot. I just need to be myself, with the select few people who know me in this state. 

z

Monday, June 6, 2016

I'm Going to Get Real

I was at work, loading the ovens when this hit me. Pretty hard.


This year, I want to be the first solid 365 days where I do not harm myself, or attempt suicide.
It reminded me how there are oh so many "News" articles, going around about how to fight mental illness...

Most of them state finding a support system, and getting help.

The motto that was drilled into my head when I was in elementary school was "Suicide is a Permanent solution to a Temporary problem."
I can see where they're coming from in that regard. YES! Death is very permanent.

However, I disagree with the saying "TEMPORARY PROBLEM"


Take Me For Example:
I hate myself, I find most everything I do loathesome. I hate who I am, I hate what I have become, and I hate what has made me this way. My very issue is within myself. Not a temporary feeling.
Prime Focus: I took up a second job, because me being home alone so often was making me want to End It.
How can that be a "temporary" thing? I've had these feelings since I hit puberty. Since I was 12-13 YEARS OLD I have had this inner feeling of discontent. This desire to destroy myself.

Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem

But if your problem lives within you, and will always be your problem, as long as you wake up in the morning, as long as your eyes open. The problem is there. With every breath, and every blink of your eyes. The problem exists.
I'm not talking about the usual black cloud of depression that follows you.


My Adolescence  was filled with anxiety and doubts.
By the time I entered college I had tried to killed myself many times, and have taken up self harm.
The scars I had were small, mostly containable. Nearly invisible. I was wanting to Make a New Start.
But that ended badly. The first few times of having alcohol I was so Emotionally Repressed that I gave in to my addiction more so, losing all sense of self control. I couldn't hide my feelings of self loathing.
I took a razor for the first time and cut deeper than I ever had before. After I took A Handful of sleeping pills, my xanex and benadryl Hoping I would Never Wake Again.

But I did, Again, the scar on my arm, ran along my deltoid and bicep. My focus at the time was to cut along the muscles I loved so much.

That Was the First Scar That Never Faded.
After a few of those fateful nights, I thought I would take advantage of the schools, phone therapy services.

WHAT A WASTE

I told them that I was feeling isolated, my thoughts are very dark, and have been for a while, and when I drank I tried to kill myself.
Their response?

"Well Alcohol is a dpressant, so you should avoid that."

I stopped giving them information. It wasn't until 3 Days after my FIRST CALL that they tried to contact me.
Someone calling them saying "I want to kill myself more often than not." and they waited three days for a followup. I had voice messages, "Hi please call us back for a followup"


I came home for Thanksgiving break, and confessed to my parents that After social contact my mood drops dangerously low. My energy would be shot, and my thoughts turned to how useless I was in the world.
I was taken to a doctor.

After a very short "Emotional survey" he diagnosed me as borderline manic depressive and prescribed a mood stabilizer... To someone who was more depressed than manic. The prescription?

900 mg Lithium daily No he didn't test any of my blood or organ functions while on this medication. He flat out told me to Self medicate and adjust accordingly.

Let me repeat that...

900 mg Lithium TO SELF MEDICATE AND ADJUST ACCORDINGLY.
  Two entities whom I was supposed to trust have already failed me.
I went back to college dejected, but determined.
No surprise the pills made me sick, and made my depression worse. I would even out, my happy days lasted for more than one day. But, Eventually I had to increase dosage. I sent a message to my friend at the time.
It said "No wonder people on anti-depressants kill themselves" I crashed, after a few weeks of being level, I dropped. I hadn't felt lethargic until then.  

College was a low point for me. 
I gained an eating disorder
My anxiety was back with a vengeance
My self loathing was through the roof. 

My father had to get a heart transplant, and honestly focusing on that helped me get through everything. I came straight home.

My issues didn't rise up until I was found to be in a Toxic Relationship

But We'll touch on that later.

I did what I did in High School: I focused on other problems around. I didn't have the chance to Internalize my dislike. I focused instead on helping.
My identity became tied to taking care of the family.
I told myself: "Gotta Keep It Together for Them." I focused on keeping the family functioning. Through my father's sickness, and his recovery. It became who I was. 

Flash Forward a Few Months: My father is doing well, he received his heart transplant, and could drive and take care of himself. He was granted his full, complete, independence. As a Family We Were Overjoyed.

I worked at my internship I buried myself in my work instead. But feeling not as needed, my mind started to turn. By this time I had been on my prescription for over a year and was getting used to the side effects.
From working and hiking I was feeling like a newer, better person. Losing the weight from college helped me a lot also.

But there was still something missing.

That's When I found my Toxic Relationship.

It was a bad fit, but I wanted to please I needed to be Needed This was the start of my co-dependence. 

I didn't know I was Co-dependent at the time. My only aim was to feel significant.
It didn't end that way.
Within the first year of the relationship I added new scars, and attempted suicide more than once.
My cutting habits changed. I was no longer cutting out of depression, but anger..
I would cut deeper, more often, and feel nothing.

I became addicted to being numb.
I wanted to stop Feeling like a failure, and feel nothing.
I had hardships at work, I lost my job due to unfair circumstances.
I had friends tell my boyfriend that I had a habit of playing the victim.
After being out on my own, I was Facing the reality that my life was failing and I need to go home.
I found two jobs, but neither could Justify me living on my own.
I quit one to go full time somewhere else, and moved home.
I gained the courage through a strong and fantastic coworker to leave my toxic life behind.

Up until Recently, I still: Cut, contemplated suicide, hated myself.
I have a great life, why should I be depressed?
I stopped taking my medications after speaking with a thearapist, he didn't suggest anything. Just said that the dose was incredible. After a few sessions I couldn't push myself to open up more. all the professionals have let me down.


I still remember: the hollowed out feeling every morning I would wake after an attempt. The desire to not just feel pain, but to see the blood when I cut.
I NEEDED THE BLOOD to reset
Most people reset with the sudden pain, I need to see my skin part, to break blood vessels, to lose my life force on to whatever surface I can.
Scratching, or welts, biting, never had the same effect.
I need blood.


While I am in a better place, for the time being. I still have to do a lot to not get sucked into my dark thoughts.

I do anything I can to keep my mind off of me.
I worked two jobs, not for the money, but something to do.
I would rather be too busy than to stay at home.
I could never work from home, I can't stand being alone.

I hate feeling like I've failed.


While I still hate myself, I have found an awesome support system in friends, and loved ones.
I've started to look forward to the future. 

I am not the person I once was, I have changed, and while I may not like who I am. I know that others like me. 
As silly as that sounds, that matters more to me.
I still crave distractions, after an extended period of time, my co-dependent self turns against my independent self, and casts doubt.
Thoughts like
You're alone because nobody wants to deal with you.
Nobody wants to hear it when you're feeling down.
You're just playing the victim, nothing is wrong.
I have everything I need, why am I so angry with myself?
I don't deserve happiness.
I'll die at my own hands, or the hands of someone I love so why bother?
Living is pointless, life is pointless, all I do is disappoint.

I am slowly trying to fight these thoughts, but someone can only sleep, and work so much, before the anxiety of an unkept house, and homelife adds to the pile.

I will never win with myself.
I will NEVER WIN WITH MYSELF

So tell me, how is Suicide a permanent solution to a temporary problem for me?
I am the problem.