About Me

My photo
Follow me on Facebook
Things I believe: There are no coincidences. There are no accidents. Everything is symbolic. Everything is relative. We're all a little crazy. "The truth is out there." There *is* something greater than us, only it's probably not other than us; it's more likely deep inside us. "The universe is shaped exactly like the earth, if you go straight long enough you end up where you were." (There's a Modest Mouse quote for almost every situation.) "All you need is love." (And food, things you enjoy and, occasionally, medication) That which doesn't kill us doesn't kill us. Breathe. Anyway you can. As long as you can.


Open Wounds

Today at 3pm I finished the last of my neuropsychiatric evalution (read: guinea pig water boarding). After the math questions, spelling tests, arranging blocks, counting change, "repeat after me, in alphanumeric order, then backwards" mind-boggling exercises spanning over three sessions - 3-4 hours each - was a series of questions about life history and experiences. Where have I lived, how did I do in school, what have my relationships been like, etc, etc, etc.

So, my biological father wasn't allowed to be involved in my life in any way and, now deceased, never will be; we moved a lot; my mother (whom one of my many therapists labeled as borderline a couple years ago) had several drug addictions and took her issues out on us at times; my dad hid from us when things were bad; my parents divorced; spent a good part of my childhood parenting my siblings and mother; was molested at age 13 by a friend's step dad who had been raping her repeatedly and she never thought to tell me; moved back and forth between parents; used drugs, wild hair colors, hidden tattoos and piercings to feel in control when I otherwise was not; have always been a workaholic or a total slacker, straight A student or skipping classes, am either a shiny, happy person or a cutting/depressive person (sound a little bipolar?); lost all sense of self-esteem after a horrible string of breakups and spent a year sleeping around trying to get it back; had a beautiful baby then got married and divorced; spent two years in debilitating pain after a work injury the insurance fought; lost my brother to drugs though I spent years trying to save him; attempted suicide; moved away from all of my friends to start over; remarried; spent a year trying to get pregnant again and have achieved nothing but constant pelvic pain; lost my mother who already stopped living when my brother died from the guilt and grief and finally busted my fucking senses in a car accident I caused that has my husband in legal trouble. I think that about sums it up.

It's really a lot worse than I thought. Thanks, Dr. P. for reminding me. I'm lucky I'm only half bat-shit crazy. If alcohol wouldn't make my headache increase ten-fold, I'd down a sixer of Oberon right now to forget it all again.

I'm totally worn out from the whole thing, and being on suicide watch at work, home and with every doctor I've come in contact with in the last 2 years. I usually try and keep that shit to myself. Now I'm in the spotlight wearing a sign that says "Handle with Care" and all I want to do is sleep. Forever. I'm not planning to kill myself though. Thanks to Lamictal and the shoulders of a few really great people, I'm on the upswing (I think) and don't want anyone getting hurt.

I don't want to be someone else's scar. Life is hard enough.

My sister is on her way from out of town and my husband should be home from work soon. Time to rest a bit and put on my happy face.

No comments:

Post a Comment