For a few years, I have been unable to communicate. All the emotions have been trapped inside, at first packed like sardines, then the words kept piling up, laying one on top of another until soon all the air pockets were crushed and the light from even the smallest of space was blocked out and I find myself enveloped in darkness. Again.
I can still breathe, but shallowly. Most of the time I try not to focus on my breathing because when I do it feels almost as if I can’t get enough air. my chest grows tight and I feel uncomfortable, like I can’t inhale enough oxygen, and the harder I try, the less I can breathe, until finally; a deep breath gets in and I can relax for a while. Occasionally my breathing stops and the struggle will start all over again. I wonder in my head if these are anxiety, stress related incidents.
I’m so tired of the struggle.
I drag myself up in the morning, wishing hope against hope that I could just go back to bed, for just a little while longer. I try, I lie back down, knowing the alarm has been shut off my mind screams at me until I get up for fear I will fall back asleep.
I drag myself around all day, willing my mind to stay focused on my work. Begging my mind to stay alert and clear so that no one will guess just how bad this depression really is. I can’t afford to not work. I can’t afford to lose my job.
I try to think of things that I would like to do when I get home, things I would like to accomplish, but it all fails me when I walk in the door to my apartment, the cloak of darkness returns and I am weighted down with the heftiness of its emotion. My breaths coming in shallow gasps, I flop down in the recliner, where I am almost instantly drained of all energy and I beg for forgiveness and ask if he can get dinner one more time, if he could take Maggie out, just tonight. I’ll do it tomorrow, I promise!
The words got so overpowering in my head that I was so tense and taught, my jaws would not relax and the noise in my head was so extreme that I felt like screaming “QUIET!”, inside my head I think I did say it.
I am so tired of having to always be the strong one. I am so tired of being the one to keep it together. I am tired of doing all the work and finding no enjoyment for all my work because I am too busy worrying over the next battle that is looming on the horizon. There is one battle after another. I come out victorious on one, just in time to battle the next incident.
The noise in my head is quieter now, so quiet I can hear the bathtub faucet dripping from the bedroom. I’ll have to go fix that before that is all I hear, drip-drip…drip-drip…drip-drip-drip. The bedroom window is open a crack and even though there is snow on the ground and the temperature is still freezing, the cool, crisp air is refreshing to the stale, hot odors of the entire apartment complex. Someone had bar-b-que for dinner, someone else had onions with their dinner, and someone else had pizza. (I saw the delivery guy pull up).
I’m exhausted once again, but it is a good kind of tired. The kind of tired that permeates your whole body, oozing out of your pores, the kind of tired that lets you know that you have truly accomplished something for once.
Still around – just trying to figure out a schedule that works for me.
Still on Chantix and not smoking, although I had a relaps when I ran out of the chantix but got back on them right away.
Hope to eventually get back into writing. Its been on my mind alot and while my mind is full of words, my head can’t find the words to articulate them.
I took my first Chantix this morning. I’m a bit nervous about using this, but hopefully it will do what it is prescribed to do without all the problems it has been known to cause in some people.
My biggest fear with this drug is my already established depression issue. I don’t need it to get any worse than it already is. The Hubs will be watching me closely for any signs of added issues. It can also make you sleepy – I don’t need that either.
I take one pill .05 mg. once a day for 4 days, then go to one pill twice a day for 3 days before I move up to the next dose level of 1mg pill twice a day. After 7 days, I am supposed to be able to just quit smoking, the medication builds up in your system to target the nicotine receptors and blocks nicotine from being able to attach to them – your satisfaction from smoking is less and you have the urge to smoke less. I’m keeping my fingers crossed, because otherwise its back to the patch, or else live a very unhealthy life until I get emphysemia or worse, lung cancer.
I chose to get healthy.
I seem to have lost my words, if found, would someone kindly notify me at this blog.
I sure miss the ability to write.
The past few months have worked their way through my life as if they were someone elses that I sat by and watched. It isn’t that I haven’t been living them, but more so, actively surviving them. Surviving and living are often two seperate ways of life.
What amazes me most is life goes on no matter whether you are actively persuing it or trying to survive it. I am trying to define my priorities and shed the things in life that are not important and surround myself with the things that are most important to me. As I have aged – what used to be important when I was younger no longer seems as important.
Age is a funny thing too – I can no longer stand clutter, so I have been clearing my life with as much of that clutter as I can, enjoying the open space more. Maybe this is a way of whittling down ones own stuff so that when we die, our kids don’t have to do it for us. I laugh here, because there is one area of my life that I can’t seem to shed – my yarn. If my finances were more stable I would probably have more of it, so I guess blessings come in every form.
What little fall sunny days we have are numbered, I must say I am not really looking forward to winter – perhaps that is because we didn’t have much of a summer. Most of the trees are still full of green leaves and it will be interesting to see what they do now that it had snowed, and froze and now warmed up again. I expect them to just drop with no beautiful colors this year. Life is strange.
Steph’s baby that she is currently brewing will be a boy!! I swear that girl is so in-tune with her body it’s scary!
I wish I had time to post – a billion and one words stored up inside but I am off to work. Yes, I have a new job now and I will have to write about that hopefully some time in the near future.
Hi-ho!
Off to work I go!
tweet-tweet-tweet-toot tweet-tweet-tweet-toot Tweet-tweet-toot-toot.
(okay, so you gotta think about snow white and the seven dwarfs to get that tune)
and that’s about all I have to say. Not worth writing anyway.
I always hate goodbye, especially to my daughters and granddaughters. My heart feels so empty tonight, it echos like the walls of my apartment do in the quiet absence of those three very important people in my life.
For the past, mmmm…3 weeks I have had the pleasure of having my oldest daughter and her two daughters here with us from Casper, Wyoming. It has been stressful at times, but the joy of getting to see, touch, hug, laugh and love those three girls in my life on a daily basis has completely over ridden the stress.
This picture is of my two oldest granddaughters, they were sitting on the floor discussing what they planned to do and see that day at the Como Park Zoo & Conservatory. Kailie is on the left, she is Melissa’s oldest daughter (the one who lives in Wyoming) and Lexi is on the right and she is my youngest daughter Stephanie’s oldest.
Kailie & Lexi
It’s too bad I can’t seem to get all three girls to sit still long enough to get their picture together. The one below is my number 3 granddaughter Emily. Emily is such a lovable little baby and is for the most part the quietest child I have seen. She gets a little loud when her sister or cousin don’t let her have what she wants or tries to pick her up when she is hell bent on heading to a certain destination that they don’t think she ought to be at…but other wise such a beautiful, sweet baby inside and out. Of course, all my granddaughters are and I am NOT in the least bit prejudiced.
Emily
Stephanie is pregnant with her 2nd child, she swears up and down that she is going to break the chain we have going on here in our family and that this one is a boy. She hasn’t had that ultra-sound thingy where they can see what the baby is, but, while I hope for them if this is what they want that they get a boy (Daddy said he doesn’t care one way or another), secretly I am a bit fearful of her having a boy because I have been surrounded by girls pretty much my whole adult life and I don’t know if I can do boys or not. I’m sure once I hold the little one in my arms, my great-big Grandma heart will kick in and it won’t matter one little bit, my heart will be lost just like it has been on the other three. The baby is due at the end of the year, I have plenty of time to adjust.
