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Finally Grateful for Super Walmart

I’m sick.

I’m tired.

And I’m just recently ┬áback from the new super walmart less than two miles from my “country” home, and let me just say, I am so glad it is there. Because I am sick. And I am tired.

And now the cough will be temporarily suppressed in a town that a few months ago would have had me wait until morning to pick up some OTC stuff.

Out and About

I forced myself to go out today. Except for 45 minutes, I was gone from 9:00 a.m. to 7:00 tonight. It was a long, long day. But a fun day.

And I’m writing again. It’s cathartic. It’s raw. It’s personal. And it’s actually turning into something.

But I’m still exhausted. I’ll be glad when that lifts.

The Gradual Regroup

Life is moving forward. I feel more grounded. My meds seem to be doing what they are meant to do. I’m more even keel. Can now feel emotion without drowning in them. And oddly, I am suddenly ambitious. Honestly, I haven’t felt a lot of ambition in some time. I don’t know the reasons why. I just know I suddenly feel like chasing stuff. And things.

The first round of repair work in with classes. In one class, I am receiving an academic withdrawal. That means I’ll be taking the class over again, but it is as if this semester didn’t happen. It won’t count against my GPA. Honestly, this is my preference. I need to take the class again without the chaos of my mind cracking. In another class, with only two weeks left, the professor agreed to give me the grade I was making. It’s a 98. And finally, my 3rd class… I will be receiving the 3rd incomplete the professor has ever given out in her 20 years of teaching. I’ll have a semester to complete the remaining work. I asked for an academic withdrawal in her class as well, but she told me I was on pace to make an “A”, and would like me to consider the incomplete instead. I did. So, really, I will only be losing one class this semester. And I’ll have a full semester to change the incomplete to a legitimate grade. Not too shabby for a complete meltdown.

That’s all I have done. Just navigating professors and deans in hopes to get my education back on track. And just writing about it has be exhausted.

Just the Facts

Sorry for the disappearing act. It was sort of beyond my control. I certainly made the decisions to get to a particular point, but eventually, control was taken from me. I was hospitalized from Nov. 25 until 4:00 p.m. Friday. Someday, I’ll share that experience because I have been EOD (emergency order of detainment) before, but this experience was… I can’t even begin to describe it. And I’m not ready to reopen that door. I will say this is the most backwards state I have ever been in.

But, I am home now. Tomorrow I have to go to Tulsa for follow-up, which I guess means finding a psych doc who will continue monitoring medications. If I don’t get a grip, I will be court ordered into longterm care psychiatric treatment.

I don’t know where I am emotionally. I don’t know where I am educationally. I guess I feel numb and indifferent when I am not having brief episodes of intense anger.

I’m going to end with a favorite quote:

“You can lead a horse to water, and you can even make him drink, but you can’t change his point of view.”

 

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I’ve deactivated my facebook account which takes me even further away from everyone. I read Karen’s blog post, but all I could do was sob. I don’t even know why I’m writing now except I feel some twisted responsibility to let people know I’m not disappearing because I feel you all are insignificant. I’m disappearing because I feel so insignificant. And it stems from the present as much as the past, and it all just came colliding together so quickly… I didn’t… I couldn’t duck. Or protect myself from the onslaught of wounds that would open up and pour out.

Cryptic, but it’s not cryptic. It’s… I am so tired. I am so not ok. I have never been ok. I have faked ok. And the dam has broken. I want to be stronger than this, like one of those people who experience real, heartwrenching pain and pick themselves up and move on. But I’ve been picking myself up and moving on for so long, that I have no more strength to pick up the crumbling pieces of me.

I spent my early 20s in and out of mental hospitals because I always wanted to escape me and save the world from my toxicity. Whether I cracked, and was papered unwillingly, or I recognized the cracks and sought help voluntarily (which were … ok, that never happened.) It was always unwillingly. But all that does is buys you time. It buys you time to trick yourself into believing that the chronic cancer in your mind will be defeated, until the next flare up which is always worse than the one before.

And it’s stupid. So, so stupid that the mind cannot overcome the heart, and the heart can break the mind. But that’s where I am. My heart is aching. It is aching so deeply that I have been in constant prayer for it just to beat itself still. And yet, it beats. This fucking heart continues to beat, and I need it to stop. Because it hurts so much. And I’m embarrassed and ashamed that I feel this way, but I do.

I’ve grown though. Years ago, I would have hung myself with a rope. That’s an ugly situation. And can cause a lot of problems. And I survived it. I survived. And I have been angry about that every day since because I put perfect planning into it, where it should have been successful. Believe me, I was completely alone and felt confident no one would stumble upon me. But they did. And what I remember most is the snot covering my face from the sobbing before I had the courage to step off the wooden box. The next thing I remember was being in the hospital. For a long, long duration. But see, I’ve grown. Because I am fighting the urge to do something so profoundly permanent.

But this aching… this aching that causes someone to scream out and hyperventilate, and sob… these sounds that always catch me off guard because it is me. I need respite from the crippling sorrow. I am so tired. And so, so defeated. And ashamed. And I want my heart to beat itself still.