New Meds, helping???

I’m off the Latuda and trying Lamotrigine again. No more “crawling out of my skin” feeling, which is good. I think the Lamotrigine is helping a little, but the dose hasn’t been finalized yet. Slowly increasing it. I’ve also been dealing with a lot of pain in both of my legs lately. The doctor thought it was bursitis, but is now considering a bulging disc. The pain is horrible at times. At night, if I change positions, it feels like my legs have been stabbed with a knife, and the blade drawn down to my knee. I fall asleep crying and afraid of changing positions during the night. I’m sure this isn’t helping my depression! I’m dissatisfied with EVERYTHING in my life. Overly emotional (though I haven’t blown up in a rage in awhile!) Last weekend, I was driving with my husband and started crying. His reaction was, “Good Lord!” I know that it was just because he’s frustrated with me always feeling down. He’s been there with me through it for over 30 years, and I’m sure it’s exhausting to be around when you don’t know how to help.

I know my life is filled with blessings, and it’s easy to start naming and acknowledging them. But that doesn’t make a difference with depression, and I feel that most people don’t understand that. When I recognize that I am blessed, yet still battle with my depression on a daily basis, I again realize that it is a disease. Something is amiss in my brain chemistry. And this brings me back to my depression. I may receive treatment for it, but it will always be there … a part of who I am. Some days, I feel hopeless and wonder why I am still here.

I want to be exuberant and filled with joy at life and the wondrous world I live in. Will that ever be? I do have brief moments of laughter and happiness. But they don’t last more than a day or so. At least they do come round though. Most days, I hide my depression behind a facade. My smile doesn’t make it to my eyes. Do people even recognize this? I don’t know, but it gets me through the moments so that I don’t SEEM to be down so much. It makes me feel like I haven’t been a very good wife or mother.

I’m just SO tired of being sad and crying at the drop of a hat! Just writing this has me in tears. Saying good-night to my son has me in tears. I am very lucky and blessed to have him as my son. He is kind and generous and thoughtful … a good person through and through. I’m happy that I’ve had a part in developing those characteristics in him. I am fearful that he might develop some of my condition as he gets older. But I have to be mindful and in the moment. He isn’t like that now, and I have no way of knowing about the future. So I do enjoy and appreciate him for who he is today. And the time I spend with him.

On a different note, last weekend, I went with some friends to a place where they take you through the creation of a painting. Usually the painting was done by someone famous. We were all taken through painting “The Old Vineyard.” I didn’t recognize the painting, but the whole process was fun and a great way to spend an afternoon with a few friends. I’m hoping it will get me to pull out my paints and canvas and have a go of it at home.

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Sometimes, I just want to go to sleep and stay asleep. But i also don’t want to miss out on life. I want to see my son grow and have a good life and family. I hope to be a grandmother some day – and think I will be a good one. Those of you will know what I mean. I’m just so tired of being sad – for what seems like no reason. I want to live life fully, but am having a hard time doing so.

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Random Ramblings about my BPD

Bringing some of my blog title into a post …

Finding myself scratching my leg, and then i keep on scratching. There is not itch. 

Fighting to make my smile reach up and into my eyes.

Happily watching my dog, Chi, playful at last – after a month and a half recovery from ????

Fearful of words left unspoken. 

Wanting to take anxiety pills and alcohol and sleep, sleep, sleep.

Grateful the weekend is here and I don’t have to go to work. I want to work, but it brings up SO much. 

Cloudy thinking. Cloudy feeling. I don’t know what I want. 

I know I’ll be alone some day. When, I don’t know. It takes me into disassociation.

It is what it is. My own doing? Inevitable. 

 

Preparing for the rest of my assessment

I just go home from work (I’ve been working for a month now) and have the rest of my assessment by the county clinician this afternoon. A lot of anxiety and depression has surfaced since I returned to work. It’s a simple job, yet I don’t feel I’m doing very well. Constantly being “corrected” it seems, though probably not as often as it feels. I feel like I’m losing what spark I had in me. Falling flat. I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t always be UP if I’m to work on this. Without therapy, I ignore my illness while it’s behaving itself and staying hidden, not abusing myself or exploding at others. That hasn’t worked. So, I have to live with all the emotions right at the surface, staying there because I’m trying to do something about them. Without hurting myself. I really want to self medicate right now. Stuff it all down under numbness. So much pretending that my life is ok! It’s exhausting! My life is filled with blessings in the people who care about me. But I still fall apart at the slightest conflict. I feel very incapable. Feeling sad, scared and frustrated.

Evaluated

Yesterday I had a psychiatric evaluation. the hard truth was put before me. Yet another specialist has confirmed my having BPD. It hasn’t gone away, and doesn’t look like it ever will. I feel depleted inside. Empty. For the most part, the last few months have been good. Better that it’s been for a long time. But just when I realize this, something triggers me and my anger. I’m feeling really sad about this. The mountain continues in front of me. Upward and onward.

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bpd (Photo credit: Jackal1)

 

 

In Peace, He Passed

English: Photograph of a Monarch Butterfly.

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My father passed away early this morning. It was peaceful and his family was with him as he went. I am so very grateful for all the support I’ve had from fellow bloggers as it helped me to be in a place where I can more steadily bear this loss. If it had bee a year ago, it would have been a very different story.

Thank you all.

 

Fear and Loathing

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The river of life

I’m not at home right now. I had to return to my parents’. My dad is failing – as in death. I fear his death. His body has gone through hell over the years and it is a miracle that he is still alive. I loath this whole situation. My mom needs me, though, and I am and will be here for her. I love them both very much. This is a difficult part of life. A part I’ve never dealt well with. Mortality. There’s no coming back once the line has been crossed. I’m glad I never crossed it during any of my struggles.

This situation has caused me to reflect on all of my suicidal ideation episodes. I feel horrible about the emotional pain I have put others through over the years. I feel very calm about where we are at with my dad. He seems to be at peace and all that is left is tiredness. The hourglass has almost emptied. I’m confused by my calmness. All of my BPD seems absent. Am I in shock? I just don’t know.

Posting Suicide

Except for John the Aussie (as a regular) and an occasional other, no one seems to read my blogs any more. It doesn’t matter if I’ve been a regular reader of theirs- and commentar also, I’ve tried to write in different modes that might be more interesting. I’ve tried increasing the tags for my blogs, but still it seems that no one is really all that interested. Thank you, John, for continuing to check in on me. Some days I feel on top of the world and as normal as can be. But when I look at what isn’t happening, I again feel like the lost child that stays hidden in the background. I’m not complaining – it’s just an observation. I guess it’s an ok place to be for me. A good place to observe others, even if no one notices you. A lot can be learned from observing others. I see how lucky I am in the true picture of life. I may have my moments or even days of emotional dis-regulation, self harm, depression anxiety etc, but I know I am loved (even in the midst of arguing) and lovable. I know my depression will come and go and I will have days where I feel joy and thoroughly like almost every aspect of my life. So no one wants to read my blog. There’s not a Da#n thing I can do about that. I will write or not write, as the mood suites me. Is that posting or blogging suicide? Only time will tell.

Cheers all!