what i wouldn't give...

what i wouldn't give just to forget
what i wouldn't give to get some rest
so i can remember how to live again
i just wanna live again
-holly brook

woke up this morning unsure of my ability to survive the day. i scurried the kids off to school and asked boy child three to go upstairs and watch some tv for awhile. he asked if it was because i had a headache, i said yes. he hugged my neck and told me to feel better and disappeared up the stairs. this isn't my first 'headache', not by far. so i crawled back into bed, pulling all the pillows up over my head, and fell asleep with tears running down my face.

i tossed and turned with the ever vivid dreams of torture, doom, and impossible situations that push me to my emotional and physical limits. i woke up sweating and tense over and over. i finally dragged myself out of bed at noon.

i could go on and tell how the rest of the day went, but i'm sure you can pretty much assume. i hate this fight, this battle that exists inside me every second. my kids need me, my lover needs me. my house, my yard, and my responsibilities need me. i've got to push past it. but i'm so exhausted.

today sucked.

i have been looking forward to this weekend all week, but now i'm afraid i'll ruin it all. mark's mom has offered to take the kids tomorrow so we can have a night alone, especially since he starts a new job on monday. i've never not needed a date night. then saturday we get to sleep in, go get the kids, and enjoy our annual neighborhood block party/cinco de mayo celebration saturday night. i just hope i can muster the strength to pull myself out of this pit by tomorrow. i feel like my feet are trapped in sand, like i'm carrying a pack of bricks on my back, like i could sleep for a week, but my head won't stop spinning. thinking. obsessing. guilting. being filled with anger.

oh what i wouldn't give to just forget.
to get some rest.
to be fucking normal.

deflated

it's been progressively getting worse.
i've been talking about leaving.
out loud.
why why why why why.
please let me get through this summer.

darkness

my kids made me cry today. (but i didn't let them see) they just don't listen.
i was frustrated.mad.angry.
i wanted to walk out the door but i didn't. [that could be said for most days]
i want to scream.
i want to run.
running wouldn't be fast enough.
i want to fly.
how is this my life.

cheesecake and tears

last night we went to caffe capri. it was incredible, as always. william was our waiter, he told the hostess he wanted us. :) he's hilarious. wine, pesto ravioli, then cheesecake. holy hell. it was a little frozen in the middle, but somehow that made it even better. it was amazing. so was the company. i went shopping yesterday for a top to wear for last night. i found an adorable black sleeveless top with cream lace at the top. i wore it with a cream mini skirt. and got some new black heels. i wore a cream pea coat. i was freezing and had to shave my legs, but it was totally worth it. i love wearing black and white. i felt pretty.

after dinner we headed to northgate. got a few drinks, then met some friends at sweet eugenes. i left early because i felt bad. not sick bad, mental bad. i had a huge knot in my throat and felt like i was about to cry. so i came home, cried, took a double dose of sleeping pills, and went to sleep. i got out of bed at 2pm. then went back to bed at 4:30. then got back up at 6:30 to take nathan to school.

i hate this disease. this condition. this "lack of prayer". whatever the hell you want to call it. i hate this depression. i can't help how i feel. i feel great, happy, sexy, and fun. then i feel like shit. and the change is so violent and comes without warning. i hate it.

why can't i just be normal? sometimes i feel so bad, i can't even explain it. it's excruciating. it hurts physically. i curl up on the floor and shake. it hurts in so many ways. i feel like i might explode. like actually explode.

now that i'm off the medicine, i'm back to feeling completely zapped of any kind of energy or motivation. i've got a list down to my toes of things to do, and can't seem to find any kind of energy to do any of it. the house hasn't been clean in 2 weeks. when i first started the celexa, i sent nathan 20 texts one day because i was so excited i cleaned the windows. and the bathroom. and the kitchen. all in one day. and i dusted. i was so happy to finally have the energy to do things. now i'm back to dirty rooms, and unfinished projects everywhere. does this ever end?

please god let it end.

silent screams.

silent screaming

nobody brought me wine. :(

took mom to waco tonight, met dad there at panera bread. (dad's favorite restaurant...he never misses a chance to go! too bad there's not one in abilene.) it's been a hard week. i'm glad mom came, but it was hard having her here. it's hard to completely explain without sounding terribly mean. sooo lets just say, mom needs to re-take the course on 'helping your adult daughter deal with depression'. apparently she thought her job here was to keep me awake during all daylight hours (WTF) and tell me what i was doing wrong, and how if i would just change this or that, i'd be more 'positive'. hmmm. she has only good intentions, but it just further proves that i do NOT belong in the family i'm in. and that doesn't stop at parents. my whole family, both sides, extended and all...seem to be just right. i'm too cold. (and sometimes too hot :) either way, i just don't fit with the seemingly perfect family i fell into. and it's hard not to have someone on my side. oh they love me, but they aren't even close to understanding me. or helping me. they just don't know what to do with a daughter like me. sigh.

eh.

i'm very excited to be able to sleep in my bed again, though. it's been a WEEK. nathan and i have been sleeping on the couch. yes. singular. THE couch. nathan's been getting up at 5:30 or 6 to go work out (because he's got to train for his upcoming role as gi joe, remember? shit.) he's so disciplined. i'm lazy.

so...i'm supposed to be tapering off the wellbutrin. but i kind of just stopped it. kind of on accident. i've been preoccupied with trying to not strangle my mother, cleaning up poop, and having strep throat. it got lost in all that. i haven't taken it in 4 days, i figure i should just ride this out and not take another one....we will see.

last night was a bad one. i was rude and snappy with mom and nathan all night. i hurt both of their feelings. nathan put on p.s. i love you at 10:30...i think he was just trying to be nice to me. couldn't have chosen a worse movie, though. i should have said something. it was really hard to watch. always is. i only watch it when i'm alone and really really sad. just uber sad. and want to sob like a baby for an hour and a half. so i felt like i was going to throw up most of the time, trying to hold in my bursting tears. luckily, he fell asleep half way through. so i put on my ipod, and cried on the kitchen floor for about an hour. did some silent screaming in the bathroom. then got in bed with aidan for 20 minutes. then came to the living room to lay on the floor, cried some more, drifted off to sleep...got on the couch at about 3:30. yeah...pathetic. kind of embarrassing to share.

silent screaming. you know, when you're crying so hard and hurt so bad, but it's 2am and everyone's asleep and you're within 10 feet of 4 people? yeah. silent screaming. anyone else do it? this is why i need a field. 

i wanted to run away. or just run. to feel something else.

run.

unless you've dealt with depression, i know you're just shaking your head at me.

this is what this blog is for. me sharing my intimate struggle with depression for my own benefit. and maybe yours.

it's such a daily struggle. struggle is a nice word. it's a fucking battle. on days when i just can't do it anymore, i stay in bed for 10 hours. or cry, sob, weep, for an hour. or throw things. luckily, i can hold up for 5 or 6 days straight, until nathan has a day off and i can just...die. escape.

i love nathan. i love the kids. it's just the situation i want to escape. 

this is just a giant gripe fest.

so the psychiatrist thing is going to cost a gazillion dollars. my parents said they'd pay for it. but. i don't know. dad thinks i'm making excuses. i'm not, i just have a hard time asking for a gazillion dollars. and, i'm not really thrilled about paying someone $200 an hour to pump me full of more medicine. so far, the medicine thing has been worse than the non-medicine thing. and that's saying a LOT. seriously. a lot.

eh.

i feel like i'm at a dead end. with a brick wall. and i see it, but i'm still moving surprisingly fast towards it. everybody should hide if i hit that wall.

i hate my suicide dreams. it's either me watching myself run a knife somewhere along my body and watching the black blood spill out. it's always black. or it's me watching other people kill themselves in different ways. damn my creative, dark mind. but i'll take the suicide dreams over the demonic dreams any night. i've had nightmares since i was 16. not running from the cookie monster nightmares, like scary-fucking-nightmares. like wet-the-bed-nightmares. the first one, i was 16, i saw myself dead in a different "suicidal" way, in every room of my house. it flashed the rooms through my mind like a scary movie does. i got up, ran outside, and ran down the street. my startled parents came out after me and asked me what the hell i was doing. except they didn't say hell. because they don't use words like that. but their faces sure said it. when i explained why i'd run out, my mom almost fainted. after that, i had suicidal dreams mostly until i was raped at 17. then i had rape dreams. then after pregnancy, i had the most horrid dreams about my children being hurt or killed. or me being pregnant and someone cutting the baby out and killing it. seriously, guys. awful stuff. the demonic stuff is the worst. that didn't start until this past year. most of them are me walking down a dingy greenish yellowish lit hallway with doors on either side. i'm terrified to open them, but i do. and there's a demon on the ceiling in the corner who lunges out at me. or an old lady who's obviously possessed. or someone sitting in a chair facing away from me. and i walk into the room and look at the person. and i can't even express what they look like. or the demons follow me and touch my hair, or i feel them on my skin...and i either wake up about to vomit, holding my breath, sobbing, always tensed up, and a few times i even have wet the bed. embarrassing, yes. reading that paragraph will probably give you a nightmare. sorry.

i don't watch gory, demonic, or otherwise "scary" movies. i can't. especially those demonic ones. i can't even watch the previews. anyone see that 'legion' preview? it came on before every movie i've seen in the past 6 months. GEEZ. terrifying. and i'm not...like that. i don't know. i don't think about stuff like that...but i go to sleep and dream all this stuff up. psychologist says it's because i'm struggling with so many dark, angry feelings, and i have a creative mind, and this is how it comes out.

so, thanks brain.

if you've read this entire thing, thank you. i tell you guys more than i tell...well pretty much anyone. except psychologist. and nathan knows all this stuff. but somehow it comes out better with writing. this is my outlet, i suppose. for now. and thank you, all of you who have shown interest in reading this blog. and who read every word of it. it really means a lot. even though i don't know you that well, or know how you feel about what i say...i see that you do read it. and i know you cared enough to ask to read it. so, thank you.

still not tired, but going to stop typing to spare anymore word vomit. next time.

and, sorry for the f-bomb. like twice.