Jon

Let's talk about my friend Jon. Jon killed himself on August 16th. As close as my relationship is with suicide, I've never lost anyone close to me that way. To say I was shocked is an understatement. To say it's heartbreaking is a failure of words. I feel I should say that as he leaves behind his wife, Betsy, and two young boys, that it's unfathomable to think I could feel what they feel. And I'm not pretending I come even close. But I feel what I feel, and it is valid too.

I was always set on the side that suicide is not selfish. I've been in those dark and scary moments, on the verge of death itself, and I know how the mindset is when suicide is your only option left. However, when I walked in to Betsy's room the afternoon of the 17th, right after I found out about Jon, seeing her all alone on their bed looking so vulnerable, my first thoughts were "How dare you." I was so mad at Jon for leaving and abandoning his family, who so desperately need him. I was surprised at my gut reaction, and wasn't sure how to handle that feeling and those thoughts. I never thought I would believe for even two seconds that suicide is selfish. Like I said, in those dark times of fighting for your life, I never felt I was being selfish. And, I still don't. I understand in the best possible way the feelings and struggles of being suicidal, and I know in that moment you aren't feeling selfish. And that's how I was able to move past those initial negative thoughts towards Jon. The ones left behind suffer, greatly suffer. We can see that. But the ones who leave us suffer too. We just don't see it anymore.

I've had multiple suicide attempts. And in that way, I am jealous of Jon. Men succeed in commiting suicide much more often than women. Looking at my life now, I'm grateful I was never successful. Things get better. But I still live in those moments, and I am jealous he succeeded in doing what I so desperately longed to do. This makes me mad. It's confusing. Looking from high up my life has smoothed out and for the most part I am doing ok. But passing judgement on myself, I should be grateful I'm still here. Should I? It wasn't that long ago I was fighting to decide whether to live or die. I ultimately chose to get help. Then I hear of suicides, and my friend Jon dies of suicide, and I am jealous. Oh to rest. To just not exist anymore. It's still so... appealing.

I'm angry that this has brought suicide back to the forefront of my mind. I was slowly forgetting about it, trying to move on. And suddenly here in front of me I have to deal with someone I loved who didn't love himself. That's hard. I stay up countless nights thinking of Jon and what was going through his head the moments before he took his life. Was he finally calm? Something about it had to feel right. I know in my dark spots I longed to feel calm. To feel at peace. And then it's over. Are you still calm? Still peaceful?

Jon was a good person. He loved his family so much. He loved and accepted me into his home when he hardly knew me. He gave life while searching for his own. I hope he has found his peace. I miss him. I miss the complete family he made. I hurt for Betsy, for Sean, and Matthew. It stings knowing he's not there anymore. I miss Jon, I'll always miss Jon.

Go. Find peace.

Broken Record

I feel like a broken record. I don't feel like writing. Blah blah blah. I don't feel well. Blah blah blah. Nothing new to report. Blah. Blah. Blah.

This is being depressed. My mood is fine, it's stable. I don't feel overly sad. I'm not self harming and I don't feel suicidal. But I'm not functioning. I'm being very real here. I manage to eat. It's all frozen crap that goes from the freezer to the microwave to my mouth, but it works. Or I order a pizza and let that feed me for a week. That comes right to my door. But, I am eating. I can't remember the last time I showered. I think it was a month ago. I don't go out, and when I do I just throw on a hat. I brushed my teeth the other day and my spit was full of blood, lovely. I don't DO anything. I pass the time by sleeping, or watching wildlife documentaries on Netflix. It's something I enjoy, and that makes me feel peaceful. So there's good in that. It took me two weeks to do a little cleaning for my apartment inspection that's tomorrow. I sit up and my body literally doesn't work. So I lay back down. This is being depressed. And it sucks. I'm not being lazy. I just can't function. Not even when I want to. Something as simple as going to the store seems overwhelmingly monumenteous most of the time. I just want to cry, but I can't.

Dr. Barkin is disappointed the switch from Olanzapine to Latuda hasn't been smooth. I wish it could have been. The only good is that I lost 10 pounds in the month I've been off Olanzapine. Olanzapine is a good med, it's helpful and does a lot of good for a lot of people. But it isn't meant to be a long term drug and the side effects are horrendous. They need to get it together because the best I've felt in years was when I was on Olanzapine.

I gave up on the DVR. I got a letter in the mail with an appointment set to go over how much money I could make and still get social security. It was set for Aug 29. Over two months away at the time. By then it'd almost be a year since I started the process and that's just completely ridiculous. So I quit them. I'm not capable of working right now anyway. Maybe I was a year ago when I first applied, but I'm not anymore. It's stupid.

In an odd turn of events, I hate my CPAP machine. I can't sleep with it on. It doesn't stay sealed on my nose unless I'm on my back and I've never been a back sleeper, ever. So that's really hard. Then it's so loud when it loses that seal that it wakes me up and I struggle to go back to sleep. So I hardly use it. I sleep better on the couch these days than my bed anyway, so I'm usually not even near it. I don't know how people sleep hooked up to a machine because I am really struggling with it.

Mr. Purrington is good. He usually snuggles next to me on the couch. Like akways, he's been a life saver. Though he's got into this annoying habit of biting my feet when he's decided he's hungry. It's very annoying and I hope he quits that quirk soon.

I've been thinking a lot about Maine. I'm going to get there. My lease here is up in another year and a half, then I should have the resources to get me to Maine. I'm scared to death. It's an awful long way away if something goes wrong. But I need this dream to come true. So I'm going to enjoy Washington for the next 18 months or so, then I'm heading out. Zach and I are planning it. He's very supportive and encouraging of my dream, which is super helpful. I've wanted to live in Maine almost my whole life. And now it's so close I can feel it.

Well I'm rambling. I'm good at that. I'm going to try and shower this week, but there's no guarantee. I figure it's a worthy goal at least.

Someday I trust my life will turn around. That I'll kick depression in the ass once and for all. It's been years since I've felt really good, and I'm tired. It seems when one thing starts going right, two things go wrong. All I want right now is to be able to function. To not feel like there a ton of bricks weighing me down when I stand up. That's all.

And that isn't too much to ask, is it?

I Don't Feel Well Today

Ugh. I don't feel well. I'm really bummed with how I feel, how I've been feeling. I'm bummed that taking me off the Olanzapine has had such a direct affect on me. I hate thinking I'm that dependant on medication, even though logically I know that shouldn't matter. Lots of people are dependant on medication, and it's ok that I am. But I don't feel that way. I feel I shouldn't be dependant on medication. I want to be able to feel good on my own, and not wholly rely on meds. But that isn't my reality. And it disappoints me. Dr. Barkin is increasing the Latuda while decreasing the Olanzapine, so hopefully that helps.

I haven't been able to get off the couch. My goal today was to pick up the trash around the apartment. I made the goal last night, and I still haven't been able to get myself to do it. I know in my head it'd be quick and easy, but I just can't get myself to do it. I have six more hours in the day, hopefully I'll be able to achieve my goal. It may seem small to others, but it's monumenteous to me.

I've had recurring self harm thoughts for a few days now. I don't like this at all. I haven't had self harm thoughts for many months and the fact that they're creeping back into my head alarms me. I don't want to go down that path again. There's been a couple urges, but mostly thoughts right now. I haven't acted on any of them, which is good. I just don't know what I'll do if they get worse and I can no longer control them.

I'm supposed to see Callie on Tuesday. I haven't made it to my last several scheduled appointments. I haven't been able to bring myself to go in. I'm going to try really hard to see her this week. Maybe talking will help. I just have to be proactive and be completely honest with how things are going, because she isn't very intuitive and if I don't bring anything up, she won't ask. She's a nice person, just not a good therapist. At least not for me.

I feel a knot in my stomach, I feel tears that want to fall. I feel a hollow ache in my chest. I can't make myself get up. I am in survival mode; I've eaten, I've fed Mr. Purrington. Those are positives. I just feel so awful today.

Healing

I feel awake enough to blog! This is a big deal. Over the last several months I haven't been able to keep my eyes open throughout the day. Needless to say, I wasn't functioning. I had my sleep study done and they found out I stopped breathing an average of 38 times an hour and had a low O2 level of 82. No wonder I wasn't rested, ever. I've been on the cpap machine for a few days now. It's not an overnight miracle worker, but today I noticed I am still tired, but after an hour nap I have been awake the rest of the day!  I actually had to fix myself breakfast and lunch! So that's a super good thing going on in my life. Finally a solution and some relief to that giant wall of a problem.

I'm almost off Olanzapine. And my psychiatrist has put me on Latuda. It's a brand new medication. I've been on it for a few days now and I can already tell the difference. I was feeling pretty bummed there for awhile. I didn't like that. It was worrisome for me and I was getting scared. So I'm grateful for this new medication and for a doctor who listens and cares.

I've been able to have short text message conversations with my mom recently. This is the first time in years I've been able to handle any kind of contact with her without having an anxiety attack. I think this means I'm healing. I'm becoming ok with myself, and coming to terms with the dynamics of our relationship, or lack thereof, really as the case may be. I never thought I could get to this place. I never ever thought I could have contact with her and be ok with it. I am so proud of myself for taking the time and allowing myself to have the needed healing take place. Does this mean I want to be buddy buddies or see her, no. I'm not there yet. Baby steps, slowly. I'll always have a guard up, always be careful what I say or share. The wounds are far too great to allow any kind of close relationship ever again. I won't forget, but I can forgive. And I can be at peace with myself. I am grateful for a healing heart.

And a healing life.

Melancholy

I remember hearing about a man who was receiving some kind of service, I believe in a bank, when after quite awhile it was discovered that he and the teller had a common good friend. Then he said, "It's a good thing I was nice to her (the teller)." That's always bothered me. Why did there need to be a condition placed on being nice to another human being? Why not be nice because being nice is the right thing to do? No one likes a slow line. No one likes having unanswered questions. And no one likes another human being to be rude to them when they're just trying to do the best they can. I learned from that experience to always treat people above and beyond how I would expect to be treated, so in the end everyone wins. I feel better. And I've treated my fellow human beings with kindness, whether things were going my way or not. I know I did what I could to brighten someone's day. Or at least not make it worse. No conditions placed. No conditions needed.

I'm in a melancholy mood right now. I feel low, I think it's from coming off the Olanzapine. I don't feel bad. I feel a little sad, mostly just empty. I have no motivation. The smallest tasks are monumental in size. I take it easy, small baby steps. I moved from the bed to the couch. But I got out of bed, so that's a success. Yesterday I did my dishes. That was a huge success. This is what it is to be depressed, as I've talked about before. No tears, no panic, no harmful thoughts, no... nothing. Just existing. But I have to count existing as a success. And it's good that I can see that right now, that is progress. I just have a familiar melancholy ache in my heart right now.

I think a lot about the hospital, and my time there. That was a turning point in my life. People there just got it. I didn't have to explain feeling low, they just understood. I didn't feel alone there, though I was all alone. It was nice to be accepted as is. It was good to finally realize I wasn't alone in the battle. That people understood and cared and tried to make things better. And no one thought I was out of my mind. I'm grateful for my time at Cherry Hill.

It was supposed to rain today. Instead it is a beautiful, sunshiney day. A bit windy, but not a dark cloud in sight. I'm grateful for the sunshine. It reminds me that things get better.

And that life can shine again.

One Of Those Days

I think today is just one of those days. It's a beautiful day. The sky is a perfect shade of blue without a cloud in sight. The new leaves are coming out of the trees, flowers are blooming. It's an ideal Spring day. Usually my favorite kind of day. One I would be out and enjoying. But not today.

I missed my psychiatrist appointment this week, I couldn't get out of bed. I'm disappointed I missed it. I rescheduled for a couple of weeks, but still. I really needed to talk to her about weaning me off the Olanzapine. I can definitely feel the difference being on this lower dose. It's so difficult because I like the medicine, it was working for me, but it's increasing my heart rate and I'm gaining too much weight being on it long term like I have been. So I don't know what to do, which is what's wanted to talk to Dr. Barkin about. Now I just need to wait a couple more weeks.

I have my sleep study on the 7th of April. My original appointment got cancelled due to staffing issues, so that sucked. In glad I could reschedule, but in the mean time I'm stuck not sleeping or suffocating while I do.

I've for sure picked a job coach, Tami. I really like her. I've filled out a volunteer application form for the county and am waiting to hear back from that. Volunteering seems to be a good way to get your feet wet in the job setting again. But I'm still so wary of working.

Anyway, schematics.

It's supposed to be nice all week. Maybe I'll get out one of these days and soak in some sunshine. But for today, it's ok to not be ok.

Power

One of the greatest things ever said to me came just a few months ago, in a therapy session. We were talking about the way peoples behaviors affected others, the way behaviors were affecting me and how much power they had over me. I was asked, "who are you giving your power to?" Never before had I heard a phrase that struck me like that one did. At that time I was giving all my power to others. I gave control of my feelings to others. Immense control and power. And it weighed me down to the point that I could hardly function. So who? Who had my power? MY power. It certainly wasn't me. I was not in control of my own life. I gave all my power to those who hurt me and let them wield that sword in deeper and deeper. For years I had given all my power to others. I had never accepted it as it was, my own. In truth I had never thought of personal power, of keeping it or giving it away. It wasn't until that session that I realized I had power! And I didn't have to give it away! I could be in control of my thoughts, my feelings, my actions. I can't stop outside influences from happening, but I could take back my power and make it my own. It was the most liberating moment of my life. No more did I have to give others power if I didn't want to. It became my choice. And that's the key.

Yes life is hard, bad things happen, undeserving things. But the power is yours and no one else's. Do things still hurt, yes. Some things are still raw. But I visualize my power and I keep in my hands and in my heart. I am in control. And it does make life a little easier. I can't control what people will do, what they'll say, but I can choose to maintain my power and not let others hold my power against me.

I wish I'd understood this concept of power years ago. It goes by other names, control is used a lot. It's easy to let others control all our thoughts and feelings and for us to feel out of control. But control is a hard word at times. Too often lives feel out of control and even trying our best we can't regain control, can't see it or feel it. Control lends itself more to others. But power, power is yours. Even when life is spiraling out of control, you have power! And you can keep power, hold it close to your heart. It's yours and yours alone.

I have power. I am powerful. And I am SO grateful for being asked who I give my power to. It's changed my life. I hope it can change yours, too.

One Year

As I'm sitting here lying in bed I realize it's been one year since I started my blog. I also realize I'm getting the itch to write again. I haven't been in a writing mood for awhile now, obviously. But I think I'm ready to start again.

I'm doing ok. One day at a time. My medication is working well, and I can feel a difference since I've started on vitamin D supplements too. I'm still not a huge fan of my new therapist here in Port Orchard, but I feel that I'm doing well enough that I don't need intense therapy right now, so I'm choosing to just leave it and continue seeing her. It isn't worth the hassle of switching. At least not right now.

I've been talking with vendors who work with the DVR and have met with one lady I really liked. I'll probably choose her as my job coach. She was so kind and excited to see me and help me integrate back into the work force. I'm having a lot of anxiety over working again, and she seemed to understand that and is willing to help me through it.

I went to a sleep medicine doctor this last week. I'm going to do a sleep study in a few weeks. He said it sounds like I have apnea. I can't wait to do the study and hopefully find answers and some solutions to my sleep problems. They're affecting my whole life, not just at night time. So I'm happy that's moving along.

Other than that things are moving right along. I'm grateful. And I'll just keep on keepin on.