April 24, 2017

Monday.

Monday.

Can’t trust that day.

In Monday’s defence, I have been in a terrible mood since yesterday morning, possibly even as far back as Saturday, I cannot remember.  Ugh. I knew it was coming.  I usually tend to de-fragmentate a few days in not 24 hours after therapy so making it until the end of the week is epic, it feels epic.  I just hate being back to I-hate-myself-and-everything-and-every-decision-I-ever-made mood.  I hate it.  I don’t even like being in my own brain when it’s like this.

I am sad because in even though I am moving forward I feel stuck.  I am currently stuck in my financial situation.  I am currently stuck in my housing situation. And for now, today, I feel as though I can’t do much about it [right this literal second].

I do have future plans/goals to pursue school (AGAIN!), and I hope that this ’round of college serves me better then the 2 rounds I already ran.  I am so worried about this ending up like those other times but at the same time I feel inner relief when I think about the courses I am looking to take.  This time it really feels like me.  I am choosing my path.  Not my mom, not my anxiety, not my million-and-one what if’s? It’s all me.  And if all else fails at least I am gaining my way back into society and I am learning new skills.  I like to learn and I feel I am yearning to learn, to learn a way out of the life I thought I was doomed to.

Today was a lovely sunny day and I spent most if it in bed, in track pants, not wanting to deal with the world. At all.  I managed to re-schedule a dental appointment so that was a win.  I don’t go until October now.  I am sure I will regret that come October but today I am pretty a-ok with it.  I try to keep ontop of my 6-month dental checkups but the dentist stresses me out BIG TIME.  Every couple of years (and good checkups) I let myself skip an appointment or 2 just so I don’t worry about the dentist.  Strange too because I have pretty average dental hygiene (not super-fantastic but not horrible either) and I have not had a cavity in well over 2 years now, I should not be worried.  But I always do.

I had a mid-afternoon nap.  HUGE MISTAKE. I woke up so cranky and anxious I was literally nauseated.  My love had a baseball practice I did [in theory] want to attend so I popped an ativan, got dressed, and off we went.  Again. MISTAKE.  I felt so out of it all the way to the field plus I felt angry, angry over things I have no control over right now.  I should have stayed home and had a bad or continued to nap but that is not what I did.  We got to the field and what was previously a pretty lovely day had turned into a pretty though VERY CHILLY evening.  I was dressed pretty well and I immediately knew I was screwed for warmth.  I had decided 2 innings into the practice that I was going to go sit in my van.  At least it would be warm there.

Who knows how many innings later and  I am still standing outside, fracking freezing. One of the guys lady friends came out late and being that we were the only 2 non-players we got to chatting and joking and I seemed to momentarily forget my horrid mood.  She was so funny and just kept me laughing that by the end of the game I had almost completely forgotten about my mood.  I have never met her before nor did I get her name but I liked her and I hope to see her at the games over the summer.  She has a great sense of humour which is top notch in my books.  I could use a baseball-watching friend.

Now it is almost 11, my kitty is laying beside me, I have had a few shots [of Disorronno – one of the ONLY things I will drink], I’ve got some warm comfies on and I feel better.  I don’t know what tomorrow morning will hold but for now I feel better.  I don’t feel so stressed or sad.  It’s still there, I am just not feeling it so much.  Tomorrow is a fresh day, a new start- might even be the day I actually APPLY for school *pretty please with a cherry on top*.

I don’t know what going to school will do to my future but I am too afraid to find out what not going will do so I know I want to go.  I need to try.

Well.  I have hit that wall of tired and I must crawl into my bed with my love and our fur baby.  I must think positive thoughts and stop dwelling on the past.  The past is long gone and the future is fairly near, and the future is in my hands now.  It’s up to me to put in the work to reap the reward.  Literally and metaphorically speaking.

Until we meet again my friends,

Take care & STaY GRooVY ❤

Therapeutic Blog Dribble

I feel that I have made my decision.

I will return to school.

Hopefully this coming September… I am now taking some time to weigh my choices and options and what the BEST choice and option is for ME to take.

I feel that this is a step in the right direction.  I need routine and reason back in my life and school would give me both of those things.  I need goals to work towards and I need to stay somewhat busy or [I find] I get bored and then begin to overthink everything and anything until I make myself crazy.  Though I am excited about the prospect of continuing my education I am trying not to overthink it.  I had to remind myself repeated times today that I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT, it’s up to me to provide the life that I want for myself and my family.  I need to stop worrying if I can and just try.  I am fearful of being the oldest person in my classes, lucky for me I look younger then my 33 years but still, I will know that I am older then most of my peers.

I want to be busy again and to feel that I have a purpose, that I am working towards something.  I want to take no more then 3 years to obtain a [new] College Diploma and I wish to find gainful employment before I am 40.  That gives me a little less then 10 years to put myself there.  I miss having control over my life and I wish to gain it back ten fold. I want control over my house, my car, my life, my bank account, my FUTURE.

I can almost pin point now where I fell off the happy wagon and onto the depressed train to breakdown town.  It was a year and a half into my first College Program, I want to say it was 2004.  My interest in my courses – and life for that matter- began to fizzle.  It all fizzled away to a point where I did not care.  By the Fall of ’04 I just quit.  I stopped going to school.  I stopped caring about myself.  I became very depressed.  I stopped socializing and started isolating.

I tried to bust out of it in 2007, going back to school for Dental Administration. Again, I craved the routine of school and the hope of a new and better career.  It worked well in the sense of getting me back out in the world and back to a positive routine.  It backfired in the end though because I really hated that Program and I knew I hated it from the first month.  Instead of choosing something else I was determined to finish what I started.  After I finished I felt very deflated and disappointed.  School had failed me and I had failed myself.  I became very discouraged with education after this time.  I was also discouraged and distrusting of myself.  I felt as though I had made a bad decision and wasted time and money on a Program that I have no use for.  I loathed Dental Administration so much.  I thought it would help me be less terrified of the Dentist.  It did not.  Now I know too much.

So now, another decade later and I have not stopped thinking about going back and I have decided it would be a good idea to try.  I feel I have nothing to lose, I just need to choose wisely.  I need to be smart in which program I decide to give my time and money to because I want to come out of it happy to search for a job in my field.  I realize I may not find a job right away and that is ok too, at least I will have upgraded my education and will be ready or more equipped to work.

In hindsight I wish I would have just started up another Program the September following my completion of Dental Admin.  I wish I would have just kept going until I found something that I could do/liked more then Dental.  I spent many years skeptical of College and now I feel like it is my only answer.  Without it I am destined to work another slew of low-skill level jobs that I will never be happy in. I know “they” say “people are never happy in their job” but I still REFUSE to let that allow me to be miserable in my job.  I don’t want to panic anymore about work.  I don’t want to throw up before every shift.  I don’t want to be stuck in another toxic job.  There is more to life then a horribly toxic job that sucks your soul out and never pays enough.

So, hopefully, here is to the new chapter of my life.  May the force be with me and may I make the right call in my Program selection.

Thanks for the Music

I love music.  I love it so much that a good tune gives me goosebumps.  I love all kinds of different music too, a good song is a good song.

I have to thank my parents, in particular my Dad for all the music in my life.  My dad introduced me to Classic Rock long before I knew what it was.  He would make me tapes off his records so I could ride the [horrendous] school bus with tunes in my ear.  He bought me my first Sony Cassette Walkman which I used until I could not use it anymore.  He bought me my first CD Walkman in 7th grade.  It was one of those super-bright, super-awesome Panasonic anti-skip CD Walkmans.  I think I actually still have that one.  That puppy had me ‘jammin all through high school.  Thank god.  Without my music I may have gone insane.

I was a very shy and anxious child, teenager, and young adult.  I was also lucky enough to have been bullied since the first grade.  I don’t know what I did to invite the bullying.  I was always quiet and wanted nothing but some friends.  Somehow this made me different.

I wasn’t born here.  I was born in Newmarket, Ontario which is just north of Toronto.  I was born in the same hospital that I watched my father die in.

Newmarket was a lovely little town to [begin] growing up in.  I remember going to Grandma’s often, I remember Pre-School (and the sand in my mouth that I could NEVER seem to avoid no matter how far away I stayed away from that damn sandbox).  I remember trips to the Zoo and Canada’s Wonderland.  I remember being surrounded by love and care.  I also remember the night we left.

My parents never really got a long and by the time I was 3 it was long over.  My mom packed her Jeep up, put me in it, and drove for what seemed like forever into the darkness.  Little did I know I was headed straight for hell.

We moved 3 hours south to the Niagara Region.  I still remember arriving that night.  I knew instantly I hated it.  I hated the house.  I hated this new man I didn’t recognize.  Nothing felt right and after that night nothing was ever the same again.

My mom was too busy re-kindling a [bad] high school relationship to notice that I was falling deeper and deeper into despair.  I was a very lonely child.  I missed my father and my grandparents terribly.  I started to feel more like a burden, like I was more in the way then I was wanted.  All I wanted was a friend.  I made up a few imaginary ones.  They were nice, they always listened and never made me feel sad.  There was a time when my mother would not let my father see me.  To this day I don’t know if she even realizes how much that hurt both him and I.  She was becoming so blinded by her new boyfriend.

She married that boyfriend a few years later.  I was not a part of the wedding.  I got shipped off the the babysitters.  I was so confused and again, I did not get to see my father or stay with him.  My mom was busy planning her new life and I feel like my father and myself we just big problems she wanted to ignore.

When my (half) sisters came along I thought I would finally have some friends.  Someone to talk to and play with.  What I didn’t realize until they came home from the hospital is that they are babies and cannot talk to play yet.  I also learned that babies need a lot of attention from mom which meant even less attention for me.

It also meant there was more time for her “husband” to start playing with me.  By the time I was in Kindergarten I dreaded coming home.  I became a very terrified little girl.  I did not feel safe at home.  I never knew when he would come pluck me from my bed and take me to his to undress me and play with me for the night.  My mom would be out on some errand or with a sick sister at the hospital, he kept her busy enough so he could have me all alone.  This went on for years until one fateful July day in 1991 when I said something peculiar to my mom.  I must applaud that she did not waste one millisecond, she jumped into action immediately and called the Police.  I wasn’t even 8 years old yet.

I had to tell my story repeatedly to Police Officers, Investigators, and Family and Children’s Services.  It was all very frightening and embarrassing.  I did not know what he was doing was so wrong.  I hated it but I didn’t know.  I was just a child.

This incident turned my mom into a very angry, bitter, sleep deprived, and somewhat crazy woman.  Which is understandable, but she became more mean.  I was punished for any kind of emotional outburst.  I was made to feel bad for trying to express my feelings.  My mom was always yelling at me, thinking she was shaping me for the better when really she was yelling at a child who badly needed help.

By this time I was allowed to see my real father again.  It was glorious.  Through him I could escape.  Literally, mentally, and emotionally.  He took me away from this awful town on weekends.  We would go back to Newmarket where I felt safe and loved.  Nobody there made me feel bad about myself.  They encouraged me to be me, they told me I was their Princess, I felt wanted.  My grandma knit me sweaters that I would wear when my dad took me ice skating in the Winter.  In the summer Dad would take me to Wasaga Beach and we’d go camping by by Algonquin Park.  And there was always music.

We were Rockin’ everywhere we went.  We drove to Ottawa (7+ hours) to see my cousin play squash.  We drove the Trans-Canada Hwy East all the way to Cape Breton to see Grandma and Grandpa.  We flew West to Alberta for Christmas ’99/NYE 2000.  There was always music a long the way.  He introduced to me Nazareth, ACDC, The Doors, The Rolling Stones … the list is endless.  The music made me feel free.  It still does.

It wasn’t long before I had my own music collection which became my armour and my saviour.  When I was sad and lonely, music was there.  When I missed Dad our favourite albums were (and are) a trot down memory lane.  When I felt no one understood me, music did.  Music has been my friend since I was a child.  It is the only constant positive I have had though out my entire life.

A friend’s mom once told my mom “Carla idolizes Rock Stars”, as if there were cause for concern.  Yes, I do idolize Rock Stars but not because I desire to be them per se but because their talent and music has helped me immensely.  If not for the music I don’t know that I could have lived through the last few decades.  I cannot thank my father enough for the music.  He let my ears taste many different types of music and gave me the tools to listen.  I also cannot thank him enough for leaving me his stereo, he knew I wanted it and I do cherish it.  It is priceless to me for so many reasons.

As I continue to struggle music is here to comfort me.  To tell me that I am okay, I am not alone.  It makes me feel sublimely happy to hear a good tune loud and proud.  For a brief time I can forget all the sadness and negativity that I am trying to work through and just be me.

recordplayer
My Dad died in July of 2013 from complications due to Pulminary Artery Disease.   He was 53. There are so many things I will never get to say especially THANK YOU.  Thank you Dad, for the music that will always be in my heart. 
  • FEATURED PHOTO is my own creation.  It’s a finished project from my Graphic Design Days, created for Typography class circa 2003.

The Careful Clouds of Doom

Thanks to early childhood trauma and and ongoing battle with anxiety and depression, I have learned to be entirely too careful.  With EVERYTHING.

I am worried if I don’t worry something bad will inevitably happen.

This, of course, is no way to live.  It takes the fun out of a lot of things.  It causes a lot of dark clouds to form and gather in my conscience.  The clouds build into a storm of doom that then follows me everywhere I go and influences everything I do.

I try to be careful enough to avoid the doom but sometimes I can’t.  It all becomes too much and it overwhelms me.

I don’t want to be SO CAREFUL all the time.  I don’t want to worry about things that may or MAY NOT happen.  I want to change my life.  But it is hard.  It is hard to change your thinking after over 30 years of learned thinking patterns.  This of course is one of the many reasons that I am in therapy/receiving EMDR treatment.  I don’t want to be stuck inside my head anymore.

I am sick of the voices of my past in my head.  And I resent those who put them there.  Now I am spending countless hours and dollars trying to essentially put those voices away.    As the voices and memories become reprocessed and put away I am seeing so much that I was too emotionally stunted to see before.  It is frustrating and liberating all at the same time.

Where has careful gotten me? Sure, it’s kept me out of trouble but at the same time it has kept me from living.  Careful keeps me at home or in bed all day because I am “safe” there.  But am I safe really?  I am starting to feel like I want to break the cocoon I surround myself with and see where it takes me.  I want to clear the careful clouds in my head and bask in the sunshine of making and achieving my personal goals, and ultimately loving life.  I feel as though I can see the sunshine peaking through but I am impatient, I want the whole damn sky to clear, like, ASAP.

There are rays of light breaking through and these rays are slowly starting to do something.  I have a few goals I would like to achieve.  They may seem mundane to some but their mine and I need not CARE what those who are not me think.  It is the first time in years, possibly ever, that I have real, genuine goals in mind.  I want a Cavalier again.  I love ’em and I feel good in ’em.  I want to get the hell out of this house.  The negativity here is suffocating.  I want to explore University.  I am now realizing if I want the kind of career I think  I want that I need to upgrade my skills.

I have absolutely no idea how I am going to get to where I want to be but I do know that if I continue to be too careful I will never get there.  This is terrifying but the thought of dealing with doom on my back for the rest of my life is even more terrifying.

Take a hike Careful, you have done enough damage already.

via Daily Prompt: Careful

The Fighter in Me

The fighter in me is tired.

I don’t want to fight anymore.

I feel as though I have been battling my entire life and I am sick of it.  I am sick of hiding my true self and my true feelings.  I am sick of being someone else just to please those around me.  I want to live my life.

I am sick of feeling bad about myself for wanting to be myself.  I am sick of the anxiety and depression eating away at me, always reminding me it’s there and that it can and WILL ruin anything and everything.  I am sick of feeling like “the little engine that can’t”.

I have been off of work (and on Disability because of my illness) for over 2 years now.  It’s almost up and it worries me.  Part of me wants an extension, part of me doesn’t.  Disability, though helpful, really sucks.  I seem to have the case-worker who never calls me back and doesn’t seem all that willing to help me.  I want to be helped.  I want to be better.  Why do I always get the shitty case worker?

When I was first off work and looking into Disability, I had to temporarily go on Welfare whilst I waited (over a YEAR!!!) for my Disability claim to be accepted and begin.  While on Welfare I had a case worker – a different one then I have now.  I went on Welfare to get Disability (this is what they tell you to do) so I could focus on getting better and become a strong member of society.  My first meeting with my Welfare case worker I was told to “go on medication and try harder”.  Thank you.  I NEVER thought of that! I haven’t already been over-medicated, over-worked, and out of options.  I was literally treated like dirt on this woman’s shoe.  This is what we get for trying to help ourselves???  To add insult to injury I had to pretty much tell this woman against my will that I had been victim of sexual abuse as a child, my mom is crazy (not literally speaking) and my dad is dead.  I will never forget driving home from that meeting.  I cried the entire way home.  I seriously considered slamming my beloved red Cavalier into a telephone pole.  End it.

I perservered and I indeed was accepted to receive Disability payments until early 2017.  Great! The bullshit is over.  WRONGO!!!  I literally have to chase down my case worker via telephone if I have so much as a simple question.  I have had to get my local MP involved because I felt as though I was being completely ignored.  Here I am, a few months later, being ignored AGAIN.  I have questions I need answers to.  I have been calling and leaving messages for over 2 weeks and have yet to receive a call back.  Now I know not every case worker is like this, I just seem to have this incredible luck.  I try to help myself and I get these assholes who make me feel like I have taken 2 to 12 steps back.  I went on disability to help myself.  Is that not what it is for?

I have been crying all afternoon and some of the night.  I feel like I have completely screwed myself with all of this.  In a few months I will be kicked off.  I no longer have my beloved car.  I had to sell it because I needed the money more at the time.  The confidence I was hoping to gain is non existent.  I find myself wondering why the hell I even bothered trying [to help myself].  The fear, anxiety, and depression still cripples me and I am so sick of it.  I am sick of it all.

Something needs to change.  The system sucks all the way around.  I know this from a lot of experiences.  It’s not right.  We tell our children “it will get better”.  Why are we lying to them?  How does it get better?  You become an adult where nothing gets better.  The bullying doesn’t end, it just appears in other places.  Grow a thicker skin? Fuck you.  Learn some compassion and have some understanding.  My brain is already against me.  I don’t need validation from assholes that it’s right.

When my dad died in 2013 I promised myself I would make my life what I wanted because life is too short not to.  I still believe that but I am tired.  I have spent over a decade making decisions based on fear and agoraphobia (and what my mother will say but that’s another story for another day…).  I am tired of the fear holding me back.  I am tired of being afraid. I don’t want to cry anymore.

I feel as though I am either giving up or just starting to move forward.  I am honestly not sure which it is.  I have not given up yet but if I can’t get this ball rolling I can’t promise I won’t [give up].  I can’t live the next 10+ years the way I lived the last 10+ years.  I can’t because I won’t make it if I do.