being lonely is a habit, like smoking or taking drugs - I quit them both, but man was it rough

I haven't been myself for sometime now. Probably a few years, but particularly the past 2 years and most acutely the past 10 months. I know the reasons for a lot of this. It's just that I kept believing that I was in a funk and that I'd snap out of it. I mean, we all go down in the hole from time to time, don't we? The thing is, I haven't been able to crawl out. I am in deep. I finally decided it was time to give myself a diagnosis. Situational depression is certainly part of it, but the past 10 months can only be filed away in one place that I can see: Post traumatic stress disorder. I have nearly every symptom listed and it's all following a catastropichally horrid even that took place January 13th and has unfoled over the past 10 months.

Symptoms of PTSD fall into three main categories:

1. "Reliving" the event, which disturbs day-to-day activity
•Flashback episodes, where the event seems to be happening again and again
•Repeated upsetting memories of the event
•Repeated nightmares of the event
•Strong, uncomfortable reactions to situations that remind you of the event

2. Avoidance
•Emotional "numbing," or feeling as though you don't care about anything
•Feeling detached
•Being unable to remember important aspects of the trauma
•Having a lack of interest in normal activities
•Showing less of your moods
•Avoiding places, people, or thoughts that remind you of the event
•Feeling like you have no future

3. Arousal
•Difficulty concentrating
•Startling easily
•Having an exaggerated response to things that startle you
•Feeling more aware (hypervigilance)
•Feeling irritable or having outbursts of anger
•Having trouble falling or staying asleep


Just writing about this makes me want to cry. I've been hiding out in my house in the shroud of my fear as if my fear and vigilance will protect me.

I've realized that I have not got much faith. I mean, yes, I have always been a person who has prayed for guidance and help, for protection of myself or my children, to express gratitude. But I've never had faith that 'god knows' what's best, or that things happen for a reason or that if I just put my faith and trust into a power greater than myself that things will happen as they should. I'm terrified to relase that kind of control, even if that control is an illusion.

It's an angry circle that I can't get out of. I haven't even been doing treatments, if I'm to be really honest. I just don't care. I don't have the motivation to do anything than the basic requirements. I am miserable, but I don't know how to get out of it. I will make plans: get on the treadmill, sew something, do just one treatment for the day - but when the time comes, I just can't. I take my kids to school; I do the housework required of me; I teach my class and grade the students' papers. I do what I have to do, but that's where it all ends.

Quit moping. Get it together. You're crazy. It will be good for you. Just do it. you're selfish. Let it go. Stop living in fear. It's your own fault. If only you'd...

all these words swirl around me, in my own head and spit out by others. Some mean well, some are angry with me. Everyone is probably frustrated.

I am not trying to be like this. Honest to god. If I could afford a psychiatrist I'd go. Though meds, meds, meds. The answer to everything, right?

I just can't help it. Certain painfu episodes play over and over in my head. I imagine people gloating at my pain. I want to hurt somewhere besides my heart. I want to stop hurting. I think I've cried everyday for 10 months. That's like 300 days of tears. I hold my fear so tightly. I was doing OK, maybe up until we returned from Costa Rica and then things - precariously built up - toppled over and I've been stuck under the rubble since.

I don't want help. I do. I don't want someone to pull me from my bed and slap some sense into me, but maybe I need it. I have never been like this before and I keep waiting for it to end. But some of my thoughts don't have an ending that ends well.

If I didn't have my kids - as much as I feel like a crap mom - I don't know where I'd be. Maybe somewhere tropical, maybe dead. They are a buoy. They keep me here, grounded, but also they keep me here. Running away isn't as easy with two lives under your care.

I don't want responses. I don't want to hear anyone cares, I want to be me again. I want the hurting to stop. I want to stop being afraid. I wish for a faith strong enough to carry me through

"Jesus and Mary, can you carry us through this ocean into the arms of forgiveness."

Day in the LIfe

August 31, 2008

Wake up and do the morning routine: nebs, vest, computer time







The kids are off to Grandma and BopBop's for the day. Mommy is both sad and excited to see them go.



G is getting frisky now that we're alone







We take a shower (ooh la la), and I fix my hair for motorcycle riding.



G suggests we powder our thighs and butt so we don't get saddle sores (I don't think it was necesaary, but i like the bottle)



Breakfast first



This is why I think I am fat



On the road again



We ride into Amish country - I thought i had the horse and buggy behind me, but to no avail. Instead, my sunglasses



Visit Miss Lo, bike extraordinnaire, and give her a ride



She took our pic together lest this become a day in G's life due to a one man camera show



Then we head over to the smokiest bar in america to have a drink with my father-in-law. I swear I had tar coming out of my lungs at treatment time from this place. We didn't stay long.



We came home and took a snooze



Then headed over to my dad's to pick up the kids and have dinner



My whole family is there: granmda, cousins, bro from NYC and sister-in-lsw, aunts, unles, mom, dad, step-mom. It was nice



My boy helps his grandma pick some peaches from the peach tree before we leave



Nigh Nigh for babies

I take shot of my tired self



and end my day how it started, nebs, vest, computer (and a drink, afterall, tomorrow is a holiday!)

we never even said a word we just walked out and got on that bike

I woke up with a tickle in my lungs - that same feeling you get when you smoke realy good pot and it is literally cootchie-cooing your lungs. Yeah, I know I shouldn't know what that feels like, but it was honestly the only analogy that would work for what I felt this morning. Sorry. For the record, my smot poking days are over. Anyway, I skipped my treatmetns last night and so that's how I felt when I awoke. You should see the contents of my spit cup - yum!

I had more to say, but it eludes me this mornng. MY husband and I are going on a motorcycle ride today. There is actually a huge run that supports the MDA people this weekend. We have it each year and there are THOUSANDS on motorcycles. We're not going though as the last thing i want to do is idle on a 90 degree day amidst a bunch of other bikes. I think we should go to the beach or something equally romantic. We'll see. I found it is actually a little hard to breathe ont he highway once the bike goes over like 60mph. I had to position myself to get the wind out of my face so I could get a deep breathe. I would assume anyone would feel this way, but I don't know.

Maybe I will do a day-in-the-life today. We'll see.