tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45150129459867411122024-02-19T05:59:14.534-08:00Anxiety Ridden ManiaTwo Momma's and some CRAZY days!!Young Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02130063866026301539noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-34193901481093796262009-04-28T00:00:00.000-07:002009-04-28T00:00:01.077-07:00Talk It Out Tuesday: Haley<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">Anxiety and Depression as I know them</span><br /></div><br />I'm embarrassed to say that this post you're reading should have been available to you 2 weeks ago. Why? Because that's when I was originally asked to do it.<br /><br />But, almost a day after the request came to me...I was hit by the thing that was to be the subject of this post.<br /><br />Issues with Anxiety and Depression. The kind that make you shut down in the midst of your daily life....only to cause you immense guilt over all the things you're not getting done.<br /><br />No, I am not making that little antic up to make my post sound better or more believable....it's the honest truth.<br /><br />A truth I think most people probably face unexpectedly.<br /><br />So here are my thoughts and experiences with Anxiety and Depression. I am not a Doctor. I'm just a regular gal...so anything I say here is just for your knowledge. You should always discuss any feelings of anxiety/depression you have as well as ways you'd like to treat them with your Doctor.<br /><br />Also, it takes a lot to come out so openly like this...but I'm doing it in the hopes it will help people. Any comments or thoughts that you may have are welcome, so long as they are respectful and decent.<br /><br />First off, let me introduce myself. I'm Haley. I'm 25. I've been happily married to David, my college sweetheart, for 2 years now. We have a strikingly handsome little boy named Jackson who will be 2 in August.<br /><br />We are both currently in college. Dave is getting his M.A. in English and I'm finishing my B.A. in English (since I took time off after we got married and to have the baby). Dave also works for the college teaching Freshman English. I Blog and Review products <a href="http://www.lovelifefamilyandthensome.com/">HERE</a>, I sell <a href="http://youravon.com/hquarles">AVON</a>, I'm a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Stampin</span>' Up! <a href="http://haleyquarles.stampinup.net/">Demonstrator</a> and I sell things on <a href="http://subtlethoughts.etsy.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Etsy</span></a>.<br /><br />We are a busy little gang...but we wouldn't have it any other way.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">******<br /></div>So, what can I tell you about anxiety? Well I know more about it than I do depression. I have had some form of anxiety since I was about 3 years old. It may have started sooner than that, but that's as far back as I can remember.<br /><br />As a little girl I was always somewhat high strung (I think it's just in my nature and family history). But I think I really began to have issues with anxiety when I had to take extremely high doses of an oral steroid to control my severe asthma.<br /><br />In elementary school I spent more time in the Texas <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Childrens</span> Hospital than I did in the classroom. I was very sick...and one of the things that I am certain that kept me from dying (beyond many, Many prayers) was a steroid called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Prednisone</span>.<br /><br />I'm sure you've heard of it. It's used to treat various issues and illnesses. In my case it was to help my lungs regain their strength and immunity after being severely weakened by my asthma.<br /><br />This drug has many side effects..but the most noticeable one for me was the anxious feeling I got. Take an already high strung little girl who is stressed by illness and then throw in this medicine...for me it was a pretty crazy combo.<br /><br />***Before I continue..please know I am NOT speaking against this drug AT ALL! It has saved my life multiple times and I am ENORMOUSLY thankful for that! Even with all the anxiety it caused me, I would still do it all over again if I had to.***<br /><br />The best example I can remember of how it affected me is this: I was at an amusement park with my Mom, Dad, and little Brother. My mom and I had separated from my Dad and Brother to make sure everyone got to go on the rides they liked. Normally I loved all the fastest, highest roller coasters....but since I had been very ill several weeks before, and was still on high doses of steroids, this was a trip where I wanted tame rides only.<br /><br />So my Mom and I were standing in line for one ride when I spot my Dad and Brother going to get on a fast coaster. In that moment I completely fell apart, screamed, and proceeded to sob and tell my mother that we shouldn't let them get on that ride because they were going to die! (And it was a coaster I had ridden many times before!)<br /><br />At the times the anxiety came over as a little girl, it was almost always like the example above (although maybe not always as intense). It would always come over me quickly, and I would just come apart at the seams. I would also lose all sense of reality for a moment (which is so not like me! Even as a little girl I was pretty grounded normally) and just <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">spaz</span> out!<br /><br />By the time I reached my teens I had basically figured out that what I was feeling was anxiety, and could therefore handle it better. This was also when I figured out that if I felt anxious and went shopping it would make me feel better (temporarily), but the next day I didn't really understand the purchases I had made. This habit would lead to running up a big debt when I first started college (one I am still paying off).<br /><br />My Mom, who is an RN, has always been extremely helpful to me when it comes to living with my anxiety. In H.S. when I was experiencing teen angst in combination with my anxiety issues, she would stay up with me until the wee hours of the morning discussing what I was feeling and why.<br /><br />I guarantee that the reason why I haven't struggled with it too much, and why I never needed medication for my anxiety is because of my Mom's willingness to talk to me. Because she always really listened, and because she has a great understanding of psychology, she has helped me tremendously!<br /><br />As an adult I only struggle with anxiety occasionally, because I have become familiar with things I need to do everyday to keep my anxiety at a low point. Some of these include taking long hot baths, treating myself to something special at the store once a month, and eating things that I like*.<br /><br />*Let me just say that because this is one way that really helps me cope, I am happier...but my behind is also bigger...and that's something I have to deal with everyday!<br /><br />I also try to get time alone everyday (it doesn't always happen though) for just me! Not for baby or daddy...just me. I like to scrapbook and listen to my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">iPod</span> or go through and read blogs I love one at a time. Sometimes I'll even go out and catch a chick flick alone after Jackson is asleep and at home with his daddy.<br /><br />An important part of how I help myself feel good and less anxious or depressed is actually practicing self love! That sounds really silly and life-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">coachy</span>...but I don't mean for it too!<br /><br />Seriously, I think Moms more than anyone, tend to put themselves very last on their own priority list (I know I do!). But really, that makes no sense. If you can't be happy and take pride in yourself first...how can you be happy and take pride in all that you've created (your marriage, family, business...etc.)?<br /><br />So with that question in my mind, I am forever trying to love myself better. And I don't feel guilty and I DO deserve it. I find that attitude has made a HUGE change in my life and emotions from day to day. I used to just mope around and hate myself (more about that next) but all that has changed!<br /><br />Two books I recommend to help you feel good about yourself and everyday life are:<br /><br />Princess, You know who you are By: Francesca <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Castagnoli</span><br /><br /><iframe src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=lovliffamandt-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=0767910524&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=FFFFFF&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr&nou=1" style="width: 120px; height: 240px;" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" frameborder="0"></iframe><br /><br />&<br /><br />Normal is just a Setting on the Dryer By: Adair Lara<br /><br /><iframe src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=lovliffamandt-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=0767910524&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=FFFFFF&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr&nou=1" style="width: 120px; height: 240px;" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" frameborder="0"></iframe><br /><br />These books are full of charm and wisdom, and I turn to them any time I feel anxiousness or sadness coming on.<br /><br />And so that is how I handle anxiety now.<br /><div style="text-align: center;">*******<br /></div><br />As far as depression goes, I have far less experience. I really never experienced those kind of feelings until my pregnancy. I wrote a very long and detailed post about my experiences with it <a href="http://www.lovelifefamilyandthensome.com/2009/03/why-blogging-saved-my-life.html">HERE</a>, and you can read it if you want more info.<br /><br />But here's the cliff's notes version for everyone else<br /><br />As opposed to get Post <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Pardom</span> Depression....I got it before the baby was ever born. I experienced the worst of it between the 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">nd</span> and 4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">th</span> months of my pregnancy. I didn't take anything for it at the time, obviously because I didn't want to harm the baby. So basically I slept away 2 months of my life.<br /><br />And for those of you who know me....you know how much I like to get out and do things all the time...so yeah...that was just so bizarre.<br /><br />After I had Jackson I was very happy and moonlighting with him for almost 3 months...and then a slightly vague sense of depression returned because I was exhausted, isolated, and home alone most of the day.<br /><br />My first remedy for this was to get out of this house every afternoon. That helped <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">alot</span>! Sunlight is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">sooo</span> good for you that way! I did decide though to go on some medication once I had stopped breast feeding, because I thought maybe it would help me be more productive around the house and a little more perky.<br /><br />I got on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Cymbalta</span> (Not speaking badly against this drug either. Just because it didn't work for me doesn't mean it isn't for everyone). The first month was fine and I felt a little better. But then the second month was INSANE. My highs were there, and they were great....but WHOA the lows! By the end of the third month of taking it I found myself thinking crazy irrational (and kind of scary) thoughts in moments of everyday desperation.<br /><br />Having a fairly good self perception I caught onto this immediately and called my Mom who was also super frightened by what I said. She told me to quit taking the pills immediately...and I did.<br /><br />And things got better.<br /><br />The depression remained (and still does from time to time even now) but I slowly got outside more and found other things to do to help myself feel better. Many of them are the same ones I listed above as remedies for my anxiety.<br /><br />Another thing that has truly helped me is having something that I am passionate about and working towards it. In my case that is my AVON business and trying to make it bigger and better all the time. That kind of purpose and success has been so gratifying for me!<br /><br />So that's my journey.<br /><br />I feel like I've probably left so much out...and I could write so much more....but I think this is sufficient for now.<br /><br />I appreciate you taking the time to read it and I hope that it might help you, if only just a little.<br /><br />I blog regularly at Love, Life, Family...and then some and I would love for you to stop by sometime! If you have any questions for me, feel free to leave them in the comments...or if you'd like you can drop by my blog and leave one there.<br /><br />Have a great day!Young Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02130063866026301539noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-57975598964085448242009-04-24T03:35:00.000-07:002009-04-24T03:44:11.864-07:00They aren't helping... are they??I started taking my pills more than a month ago. I didn't feel like they were really working. It's not that I had any adverse reaction, I just wasn't sure that the pills were doing what they were supposed to be doing. I was only on a 10mg dose, after all.<div><br /></div><div>Then I ran out of pills and could not afford to get my refill. </div><div><br /></div><div>Five days later, I was having heart palpitations. I got sick and wasn't feeling well, and when my hubs had to go to work, I was almost in tears. I didn't want to be alone, I didn't want him to go to work, I was emotional and my heart was acting funny. What if something was wrong with me?!?!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> (knocking on wood)</span></div><div><br /></div><div>My hubby was sweet. "What happened the last time your heart did this??" he asked me.</div><div><br /></div><div>I went to the ER... and what did they do? They told me that I was having a panic attack. So what was my hubs advice?? <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Get some sleep.</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">lol</span></div><div><br /></div><div>He called in late to work so I could nap and get some rest. When I awoke, I realized how silly I was being. My heart was feeling better, and I was calm. I suddenly realized how emotional I was, and the idea of it made me even more emotional!!! When my hubs got home from work, I went back to sleep. </div><div><br /></div><div>The next day, my hubs scrounged up enough money to go get my pills.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'll say, that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">lil</span> 10mg has sure been helping. :) </div><div><br /></div><div>And now, when I went to my follow up, my Dr. wants to know if I want to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">up</span> my dose to 20mg.</div><div><br /></div><div>Do I... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">WHAT</span>??</div><div><br /></div><div>I just got used to the idea of being on them at all. And they seem to be working at 10mg. Can they work better at 20mg? Or do I just not fix something that isn't seeming broken?? I'm so lost...</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway - the drugs are slowly working their way back into my system, and until then, I'm still palpitating and stressing. Praying it works soon! :)</div>Young Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02130063866026301539noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-56539570396913176712009-04-01T18:03:00.000-07:002009-04-01T18:23:06.101-07:00And the hits keep on comin'I went to the doc today. I have hypothyroidism and possibly type 2 diabetes (more blood work needs to be done to determine if it's type 1 or 2, more than likely it's type 2). Both of these run in my family, yay for genes! It explains a lot though so I suppose I should be relieved right? Now I know what else is wrong with me, on top of Bi-Polar Disorder and PTSD...woohoo! Pills, pills and more pills...I remember when I was younger saying to my mom how I never ever wanted to be dependent on medication....boy, did I put the wrong message out into the Universe or what? On the bright side of this, I should lose a bunch of weight and will now be forced into eating way healthier :)....<br /><br />For more info about <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hypothyroidism">hypothyroidism click here</a><br /><br />**By the way, this is not an April Fool's joke, in case anyone was wondering since it is April Fool's Day...lol...**Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-68810097127203434992009-03-31T11:08:00.000-07:002009-03-31T11:16:18.672-07:00Talk it out TuesdaySo today we are doing our first feature! <div><br /></div><div><a href="http://twitter.com/phrogprincess">Laura</a> has decided to share her story with us, so show some love here and on <a href="http://phrogmom.wordpress.com/">her blog</a> as well! Thanks :)</div><div>--------------------</div><div><br /></div><div>If you ask my mother, she will tell you I have been hysterical since birth. I am not sure if that is true, or a projection of her mental state. To say my mom was tempestuous in my younger years would be an understatement. I can’t tell you how many mornings I stood out on the driveway waiting for carpool with her burning <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">hand print</span> on my face or thigh. My embarrassed blush never seemed to hide it. <br /><br />I don’t want you to think I am blaming my mom for my mental problems. I am sure she did the best she could. No doubt she spent a lot of time and energy hiding her own demons. My poor mom was trapped in a Junior League world where her only option was to produce two kids and an impeccably decorated home. All that mattered is that we, as a family, projected the image that all was well.<br /><br />I guess some of that rubbed off on me, because when I felt the darkness welling up inside me, I never thought to share with anyone. I saw my increasing mental discomfort as something to be deeply ashamed of and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">didn</span>’t seek the help I needed. <br /><br />What happened next is somewhat <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">cliché</span> in the bipolar world: self-destructive behavior, self-medication with alcohol and street drugs, and a string of nightmarish relationships.<br />I made more mistakes in the past than I can count, but one decision I made had surprising consequences. <br /><br />When things finally got so miserable for me that I felt like I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">couldn</span>’t go on, I stepped out of the stream of my life, and went to graduate school for photography. In that environment of exploration, I was finally able to use art to process what was going on internally. I also found an excellent psychiatrist who cared enough about me to take the time to find out what was really wrong.<br /><br />In my final year of grad school I was finally diagnosed as Bipolar, and I began the work of reclaiming my life. I wish I could tell you it was all down hill from there, that the pieces clicked into place, that it all made sense, that I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">didn</span>’t have any more episodes of self-destructive behavior, and I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">didn</span>’t get involved with any more inappropriate men.<br /><br />The reality is that I struggled, and continue to struggle with finding the right medication. I have had trouble finding a support network of friends and family members who understand, and sometimes I still screw up. (That compulsive spending thing is a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">doozy</span> of a symptom for me) While I have worked to communicate with my parents about how I really feel, sometimes walls come up on both sides and we can’t connect.<br /><br />Here comes the happy ending! A little over two years ago I decided to try my hand at match.com. I figured there probably <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">wasn</span>’t a guy out there compatible with my particular brand of crazy, so what could it hurt? I dabbled for a while, alternately frustrated by a lack of tempting choices, and hurt because these guys <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">didn</span>’t seem to find me tempting either.<br /><br />Then lo and behold I decided to email a guy who sounded kind of interesting…we met a week later and got married in Vegas two weeks after that. Our two year wedding anniversary was last Monday, and our son turns one in five weeks.<br /><br />I still struggle with my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">meds</span>, trying to find a balance between effect and side effect. To be honest, if I could find a psychologist out here to chat with, I would probably jump on it. I still have days when I feel the darkness lapping at my ankles, and my spending problem is definitely enabled by all those dang cute cloth diapers out there. But you know what, I am happy. <br /><br /><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdTSnGR43647JWJmZkpQdRc9qKnqxUrqtEcOMdbWreDpY_k5cthXw2HsycRg7dG4CKPZvZ29_Fc4SOCSruGb3z_u0tKuyTCuexHr3huOc2PLH8Um8wRECufblk8krruDG-eBje_eRYQe1S/s320/bagpic1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319416172229887682" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 216px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFrgUjHKMVsOkb7B_jwgqYYkuMWHukCd9L_qBUjhA_JB1MgXT15o3qW5axH7rIVqZWBDSVwqEl1pA1QRTavvEC_c1x_8C2m_LbMpHW6xcviA1jBiV5kZggl7AJFVRjR0YCM3rU6zJu2-RX/s320/bagpic2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319416174186189362" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 316px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5T9haT1PslKyGEubQ9wGuwGC3MvkqnmY5KHfqCvvwd2Ri4webq82OEX0IwfA2yuhMkmKoEDBYfRtU7vL1zBr9plB88AveXp4gLoQKFAPquYD4hup5iCkGLZ1zfsKYH46xxNnT3C5ujJFH/s320/colorbags.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319416167961303602" /></div><div>--------------------</div><div><br /></div><div>If you'd like to be featured, just leave a comment here and let us know!!<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div>Young Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02130063866026301539noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-44863400343415887292009-03-27T16:01:00.000-07:002009-03-27T16:06:26.833-07:00Why do doctors....Always have a nurse call and say "we've got your test results back and need to see you right away...how's NEXT wednesday?" gee thanks doc, now I'll sit here for the next 5 days wondering wtf is wrong with me!<br /><br />Went for blood work, obviously my test results are in...now its pins and needles til next fing wednesday. I guess if I was dieing they wouldn't be making me wait right?<br /><br />I'm all about the drama these days..after I posted about not being about drama...what kind of crap is that? Thanks Universe for shoving that one right back up my nose! Geesh...a little warning next time would be nice...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-4755516300421698082009-03-19T15:08:00.000-07:002009-03-19T15:24:37.587-07:00Panic AttacksFear plagues me everyday. I have recently been reminded of a time in my life that was very traumatic for me. Obsession is a disease. It should never be taken lightly. There are people in the world that are dangerous because they can not accept rejection or separate themselves from another human, they try to become that person or punish that person for not accepting them.<br /><br />In 2001 and 2002 I was stalked by a man. I never met the man face to face until he decided to show up one day at my job, after he had already been stalking me for months.<br /><br />When you are the object of someone's total focus and obsession it is one of the scariest feelings in the world. You can not imagine the pyschological toll it takes one me. You ask repeatedly to be left alone, you ask that they not contact you, you tell them you have no interest in speaking them and yet it's as if you never said any of those things. They turn it around you, they act like nothing ever happened, they try to make you believe that their behavior is your fault.<br /><br />All of this is happening to me again, it's causing an excruciating amount of pain I can't escape this time..............Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-47821975967913817352009-03-16T22:58:00.000-07:002009-03-16T23:17:20.170-07:00ConsistentIt's strange. Even my hubs was a little shocked when I explained - rather, tried to explain - it to him. <div><br /></div><div>Through out my life I have lost and given things up. I've moved a lot and hardly ever been able to keep a friend<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> (not my fault, it's just life and moving makes it hard for friendships to flourish)</span>. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway - through out all the crap I've been through in my life, one thing has stayed consistent. </div><div><br /></div><div>My <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">panic</span>. </div><div><br /></div><div>I know when to expect it. </div><div>I know how to handle it - mostly. </div><div>I know how to prevent it - sometimes. </div><div>I always know it's there. I know that when one of my triggers happens, I can expect that creeping adrenaline and rush of panic as my mind swims and my nerves feel raw. </div><div><br /></div><div>I know it's <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">not</span> good. </div><div>I know that I want to get away from feeling this way. </div><div>I know that more than anything, I want to be <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">me</span> again. </div><div>I want to feel normal and healthy and have the energy and motivation to do things again. </div><div><br /></div><div>It's almost hard to realize it's going to be gone though. The one thing I've always known would be there, and kind of formed my life around, will not be there much longer if these meds work. I feel like I'm getting rid of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">part of me</span>.</div><div><br /></div><div>My hubs has the answer that settled my mind... although it's still hard to comprehend all of it.</div><div><br /></div><div><blockquote>"Don't think of it as getting rid of part of you. It's the same as going to the gym and toning up. You're refining yourself. Making what is already there, that much better."</blockquote></div><div><br /></div><div>I love him... He always puts things into perspective for me... :)</div>Young Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02130063866026301539noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-20333962657644639952009-03-15T16:03:00.000-07:002009-03-15T16:25:58.255-07:00Child of Chaos...No MoreIs it human nature to be addicted to drama? Or is it simply a matter of preference? Or is it due to circumstances beyond one's control? These questions have been burning a hole in my brain today. I used to call myself a child of chaos, because essentially that is what I was. Today, I no longer feel that way. Do I still enjoy drama? Only if it's on tv. I do not enjoy other people's stuff anymore, I will say that yes I used to love when people would call me up and tell me all their stuff and I would try to play mrs. fix-it. Some may say that this blog is still me trying to do that, I can gladly say that I am not trying to fix anything for anyone. I am here to tell my story and that's it. If it helps someone then that's phenomenal! I write about this part of my life to help myself. It helps me gain perspective on where I was and where I am. It helps bring control to my life. Yes, I am a control freak, but only of myself (and maybe my kids). I don't feel the need to control others and I certainly will not allow others to control me.<br /><br />There are certain things that happen in my life when I put a thought out into the universe. I always get an answer and it's ultimately up to me on what I do with it. When it comes to chaos and drama, well I seem to be a magnet. I have learned now how to separate myself from those that are toxic. I have learned how to put protective walls up that help me to see through the BS of someone else. I also know how to keep those that I used to be close to, that are still drama filled, at an arms length, for my sanity's sake.<br /><br />I am not perfect, I am a student of life and I thank God that I am learning. I am stubborn and I am steadfast when it comes to my belief that I need to put myself and my family first. I am loyal to the people that I feel are good for me and the ones that are a detriment or make me feel less than, I keep out.<br /><br />So, children of the chaos theory, I ask you...is it worth it? Do you really want to stay addicted to drama? And to those that aren't, how do you do it? Just some food for thought.....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-8355137390681362682009-03-12T11:56:00.000-07:002009-03-13T21:36:20.745-07:00Mesa's Medication Update :) :)**Send some support Young Momma's way**<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><div><div></div><div>I have been MIA for a little while, just trying to get used to taking my new medication..fun stuff :). I also have a new psychiatrist who seems to think that I am not as Bi-Polar as the other one thought, which is really great news! So, my new medication...it's called <a href="http://www.lamictal.com/bipolar/patients/how_lamictal_can_help.html">Lamictal</a>, so far REALLY great! It has been a huge help to me, it's used to treat Bi-Polar 1 disorder and helps prevent the onset of a manic period, which for me is always severe depression, so since I use it along with an anti-depressant, <a href="http://www.cymbalta.com/alreadyprescribedcymbalta/managingyourdepression.jsp">Cymbalta</a>, I feel like I'm not followed by a black cloud anymore. I also take MiniPress for treatment of PTSD, basically it stops my nightmares and keeps me from having panic attacks in the middle of the night! </div><br /><br /><div>So what does all this mean, well let me say that when I first was diagnosed I was soooooooo scared, I felt broken. I went to the psychiatrist because I wanted to be fixed and his answer was medication, after seeing my parents addicted to pills my entire life I was more than against it, but I also knew that there was something very wrong with me and I couldn't do it on my own. I will more than likely have to take medication for the rest of my life, it's not an appetizing thought to me, I still haven't come to terms with that. I think a part of me still thinks I can do it on my own and since I believe all things are possible, then one day I will be med free. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>The down side to medications are side-effects and the possibility of it not working. I have gone through the trial and error process, but that's mostly because I wasn't seen by a psychiatrist first. The most important thing when getting help is getting it from the right source. Please see a licensed and practicing psychiatrist to get a proper diagnosis. I know that some doctors, like the one that saw me prior to the psychiatrist, was trying to help by throwing a pill at me, it didn't do me any good to go through all the meds that she kept giving me. My doctor assumed I was just depressed, depression and Bi-Polar while they go hand in hand, just an anti-depressant does no good. It can make things worse actually. Once I was seen by a psychiatrist all was made very clear to me about my brain and why I am the way I am, my psychiatrists name was Dr. Able, he was "able" to help me and for that I will always be grateful.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>To my partner in crime, I know you're scared, you have a right to be scared. Please do not let your fear paralyze you. Medication takes time to help, there are no quick fixes, and understand that because the brain is tricky and doctors still don't fully understand it, when we have things wrong with it, it can be a trial and error process to know who's chemistry is right for which medication. Don't give up, I am proof that if you find the right doctor, the right medication and a support system, you will feel better. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Even on days when I feel like this:</div><br /><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312895273897398770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 317px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGPE71uAdhlkqXw_x9PbmauETLVl899HQX8uhEwSR9sFbFsASoWROPyTEBOFGCcJcUNhHCgHqQzxC_t1wmmyHmF3CpeJzQUJMEf8CzNPpezg_DgY6F0jxVH5nzasViO9pxnZgDw5VRlG9f/s320/havingabadday.jpg" border="0" /></div></div><br /><br /><p>I know I'm taking the right steps to feeling like this:</p><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312897015832033314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhpA4r1YL2xwzUoYYJWXkbV5lfhrEWC1YeoizF0ByhyBDqYxp53t0UFHEVDJ1TU70B9o0NcTQH4uYfCKQjnv25x46jV7puetH0S86HMjVuZ0UzpiYAz3lCw87XB0_GEzWDUv1tvJwnh6m8/s320/a+smile.bmp" border="0" /></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-12726640591900429612009-03-12T03:08:00.000-07:002009-03-12T03:14:43.440-07:00Cita - what???So - you have to love insurance companies. <div><br /></div><div>My insurance doesn't cover <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Lexapro</span>. They don't cover anything that isn't generic. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Lexapro</span> costs $106. Yep... call the Doc.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've been prescribed <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Citalopram</span>. It's apparently the generic form of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Celexa</span>, which is apparently the "non-updated" version of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Lexapro</span>. The company who makes <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Lexapro</span> made <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Celexa</span> years ago. When the patent expired, they refined it, and made <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Lexapro</span>. Didn't wanna lose out on any cash, right? ;)</div><div><br /></div><div>Can I tell you that this in itself started a panic?? Why couldn't things just go smoothly? Ugh... I research <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Citalopram</span> - only to find out that it's basically more or less for depression. I'm not depressed though... call the Doc.</div><div><br /></div><div>He says it's also for panic - so basically, just take the damn pill already!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>Was I stalling?? Maybe... </div><div><br /></div><div>So - I was supposed to start with 5mg for six days, and on the seventh day take my 10mg pill.</div><div>And what do I do?? I'm so freaked and panicked about taking this pill that I took the whole damn 10mg on my first night. Now I'm freaking that my side effects are going to be awful and that I'm going to go all depressed and crap. What the hell was I thinking??</div><div><br /></div><div>What do I do tomorrow?? Go down to the 5mg or stay at 10mg?? I'm so confused and so freaking panicked!!!!!</div>Young Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02130063866026301539noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-47874640632180326972009-03-07T18:03:00.000-08:002009-03-08T15:28:49.752-07:00Am I giving in or taking control?<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 208px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DMlulvglNMglhR0c1xkGD8SFRbfEPO7K9OBP2__RAq9vsKm3PydNQvfPFT24mXodOFX14WCiUKsW9CxkYsUJyM9bksV0-G7u-ijxg23YGNNhm5VWvs4TxzUHf-K_Bu68O5rfgUDd1vBi/s320/3c55ee894926d9747734bca30b9e3c92.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310636455177287890" />That is the depressing image that comes to mind when I think of taking pills. Maybe that image doesn't seem depressing to some, but it does to me. It means this bottle will basically run my life. It scares the shit out of me. Along with all of my anxiety issues - I have control issues. A lot of them. Which means I like to be in control of my life, I like to know that I have control of my thoughts and my moods. I like knowing that I'm <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">strong enough</span> to do this, to be <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">okay.</span> <div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0UR3_0tqeHZjIGoI1rXSRjSxPyQsBJTZIe6BAJS7bTBvuCu30nzacWH_KO4-FTJ7OiXxwf-E-pAOR9vSEC_5mAw0CJ9nWLQqvBmcvVfE55XWNaHMH01KM5DxLUb6WN6XGRCZH4kXDNkys/s1600-h/lexaproani2-300x199.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 199px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0UR3_0tqeHZjIGoI1rXSRjSxPyQsBJTZIe6BAJS7bTBvuCu30nzacWH_KO4-FTJ7OiXxwf-E-pAOR9vSEC_5mAw0CJ9nWLQqvBmcvVfE55XWNaHMH01KM5DxLUb6WN6XGRCZH4kXDNkys/s320/lexaproani2-300x199.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310636461385354018" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This is the image that the pill company uses. Makes it look kinda fancy, doesn't it?? Like a world of wonder, almost?? I'm not sure. It <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">definitely</span> looks better than the image of the bottle. However, it still scares the shit out of me. I'm going to pick up my prescription today. I'm going to take my first pill tonight. I'm going to give in.... or am I taking control??? </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Why?? Why am I doing this??</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I'm doing this because for a few weeks I've been having migraines. I've also gotten motion sickness, which apparently has a lot to do with the migraines. I've also been having dizzy spells for about two weeks. Apparently, that's due to dehydration. Why am I dehydrated??</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I don't know... I've got my whole thought process on it, helped along by my doctor. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Apparently I was getting the migraines, which I'm pretty sure are due to the stress I've been going through with not having money and having unemployment issues. When I get stressed and anxious, I start to busy myself. A lot. I keep busy 100% of the time. I've also started to go to the gym. This is when the dehydration started. So did the dizzy spells. And instead of going to the docs, I stressed on it. Which caused more anxiety. Which made the dizzy spells, migraines, and motion sickness even worse. Are you seeing the pattern here???</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">When I finally went to the doctor, I was crying in his office. I was so afraid of him telling me that I had something wrong with my brain. Then they took my blood pressure three times. Once while I was laying, again while sitting, and again after they had me stood up. When I stood, my blood pressure dropped and my heart rate went up. I wouldn't have ever thought "Oh, I'm dehydrated." Nope. Where did my mind go?? "Something is wrong with my brain. What if I need a heart transplant??"</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It's awful. The way this panic overcomes me. The way I can literally <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">feel</span> the adrenaline being released and flowing through me with a warm panic. It's sickening. And then I panic more, because I don't want to panic <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">anymore.</span> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I can't control this... I can't be <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">okay</span> on my own... so....</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Am I giving in?? Or taking control???</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Join me on my journey to find the right medication.... and hopefully be me again. </div><br /><br /></div></div>Young Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02130063866026301539noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-61728013227523126802009-03-04T02:58:00.000-08:002009-03-04T04:19:39.308-08:00Sunday's IssueFor those who don't follow my blog <a href="http://perfectpen.blogspot.com">Perfect Pen</a>, here is an update explaining what this blog is about. <a href="http://perfectpen.blogspot.com/2009/02/sad-fact.html">A Sad Fact.</a><div><br /></div><div>I want to start from the beginning. For this story to be told right, I need to go further back then that Sunday. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've got a rocky relationship with a lot of my in-laws. For years there have been standing rumors that I made my hubs get married too young, have kids too young, that I made him quit school. There are even whispers from some of his uncles that I'm too controlling. That my husband has no back bone. That I'm a bad mom who neglects my children and doesn't cook or clean.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> (Where did this come from?? An uncle who visited our house the week I found out I was pregnant with #2, just 8mo after #1 - an uncle we didn't tell about the pregnancy!)</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Due to these rumors, I'm very iffy about being around the majority of his family. They all play nice to my face and talk shit about us behind our backs. Whenever my kids do something "wrong", they come to me. They don't ever tell my hubs anything. Seriously or jokingly, they come to me. They lay it all out for me. This is not something my hubs is okay with.</div><div><br /></div><div>The only in-laws that I am close with is my MIL, SIL, BIL and my hubs Tia & Tio. I've kind of dismissed the rest as people who I have to deal with on special occasions. I put on a fake smile and play the best mommy/wifey in the world. Over do everything and get frazzled as shit. </div><div><br /></div><div>That Sunday<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> (the day after Valentine's day)</span> was already a bad day for me. For too many reasons. Needless to say, my panic disorder was on red alert and going to spend the day with his family for his Tio's birthday party that night was making me sick to my stomach. </div><div><br /></div><div>First, my son accidentally spilt a soda and they all yelled for me to come clean it. Not my hubs, who was standing right next to me. I went to do it, and my son cried because they made a big deal out of it <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(which we don't do at home, accidents happen)</span>. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then one of my hubs uncles <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(who i have on-going issues with)</span> comes up to asks how I was. He then mentions to my hubs Tio "Oh look, she did her hair, just for your birthday!" Haha, funny funny. No, I hadn't ironed my hair. It was raining outside, why bother??? So, it was a bit frizzy. Seriously? We were out bowling, not at some fancy diner. Kiss my ass.</div><div><br /></div><div>Later that night he made a comment about my hair again. I had put it in a pony tail 'cause I got hot. He acted as if I did it because of the comment he had made earlier. Uhm, have I mentioned that he's <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">so</span> not that important???</div><div><br /></div><div>Let's not bypass the fact that we were bowling. The whole family. And their friends. Somewhere around 20 people. Hubs and I chose not to bowl. Mainly because my hubs knew that I was on high alert and may need to leave as soon as I started to feel too pressured. Also because the kids hadn't napped and were a bit frazzled themselves. But it was also because we wanted to be able to watch our kids as they bowled and ran around the bowling alley like crazy munchkins. How could we possibly do that if we were involved in a bowling game??</div><div><br /></div><div>Through out the night my hubs cousins girlfriends <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(got that?)</span> were playing with my boys. The two of them are like best friends, seeing as they will most likely be sisters in law very soon. I am close with one, but not the other. The one that I'm <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">not</span> close with was kinda stand off-ish all night. I just kept getting this strange vibe from her. Like I was bugging her by having my kids around her. It's not that I made my boys go with them. They like my hubs cousins, so they were obviously going to be near their girlfriends, right???</div><div><br /></div><div>So at one point I finally sit down with my MIL and she takes all three kids<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> (my two and my niece) </span>and bowls with them. Some lady at the party starts a conversation with me about how well behaved my kids are. I see my hubs come up and sit with my MIL, so I know that the three kids are well taken care of. I'm enjoying my conversation. </div><div><br /></div><div>Suddenly I see the girlfriend of the cousin <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(the one i'm not so close with)</span> come up and snag my youngest son and walk away with him. I don't know why she did it, but I'm okay with it, because she's been playing with him all night. Around three minutes later I look over to see her, and don't see my son. I become a little alarmed. Try to continue the convo with the lady. Look over at my hubs, no kids. Look to my MIL, she has my niece and oldest son. Where is my youngest??? As I glance back over to the convo lady, I see my Tia approaching me at high speed with my youngest held awkwardly in front of her. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Some strange man was just walking away with your son." As she drops him in my lap.</div><div>"Uhm... no... he was with (girlfriends name)."</div><div>"NO. He <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">wasn't.</span> Some man was just walking away with him." And she walks away, goes to a wall where the uncle who I don't like<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> (the hair guy) </span>is standing, links arms with him and gives me a smart ass look. </div><div><br /></div><div>I look over to my hubs. Tears are stinging my eyes. </div><div><br /></div><div>"It's time to go."</div><div>"Ok. Soon."</div><div>"No. Now. I'm fucking pissed. We are leaving. NOW." My voice was shaking.</div><div>"Shit... okay... let's go." </div><div><br /></div><div>He grabs my older son from my MIL and says we are leaving. She says that she'll walk out with us as soon as she sees my face. We walk over to say bye to everyone. We say bye to the cousin and girlfriend that I like. My Tia comes over and gives everyone a kiss and hug, including the son I am holding - but ignores me. I'm fine, whatever. Just hold it together. Another five or so minutes.</div><div><br /></div><div>I say bye to her co-worker and my Tia gives me a look. "Okay. Fine." She says.</div><div><br /></div><div>"What??" I am practically yelling with a cracked ass voice.</div><div><br /></div><div>"No, that's fine."</div><div><br /></div><div>I stormed out of that bowling alley, with my youngest in my arms. I tried to hold it together while hot tears burned my freezing rain soaked cheeks. As soon as I got outside I was hyperventilating and doing my best to stay erect while I held my son. I'm scared and alone in a parking lot in the late night. I'm worried about how I'm reacting in front of my son. </div><div><br /></div><div>My MIL, hubs and oldest son come walking out of the bowling alley and get me to the car. Kids in the car and me calmed down. I'm so furious that I'm screaming the whole situation to my MIL who just looks like she cannot even imagine what the hell happened. </div><div><br /></div><div>All I keep seeing is some strange man trying to leave with my son. Why the fuck did that <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">bitch</span> come take my son from my MIL - just to let him go without supervision?? He's TWO. </div><div>Why would my Tia come to ME and not my hubs? Why is it MY fault that my son wasn't supervised??? That night could have ended so badly if my Tia hadn't seen that man walking away with my son. And who was this man??? Why weren't the cops called for him trying to take my kid?? Why didn't something happen?? I'm so confused and barely holding my thoughts together. </div><div><br /></div><div>Not more than ten minutes into our drive home - my hubs cell rings. It's his Tia. She wants to talk to me.</div><div><br /></div><div>She's not mad at me. She was <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">joking.</span> She wanted to bowl another game and needed another bowler - she asked the girl who had my son and she said she couldn't because she had to watch my son. So she brought my son to me, said her joke and that was it. She was playing around. No big deal. She's so sorry that it affected me the way it did, she wont joke with me that way again. How could I be so upset???</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Because</span> I feel like I'm always being judged. I hate when my kids want everyone but me when we're at an event. It makes me feel like my kids don't want me and that people are going to think I'm pawning my kids off on them because I'm some sort of awful mother. </div><div><br /></div><div>She says how could I ever think I wasn't a good mother? Don't I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">know</span> that I'm a good mother?</div><div><br /></div><div>Uhmm.....<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">no.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>She enforces the fact that she thinks I'm a wonderful mother. Just look at how smart and well behaved my children are.... blah blah blah. I can't remember the rest, other than she said she loved me and wanted me to relax. </div><div><br /></div><div>So... I try to wrap my mind around it. My kids have fallen asleep by this point. I'm freaking out. I don't get it. No one tried to steal my kid?? I still can't get the image out of my head. It's haunting me. How stupid could I have been to let anyone watch my kid without me there?? I can't trust people that way. They don't know what it takes to keep watch of a two year old. Why would she say she <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">couldn't </span>bowl because she <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">had</span> to watch my son? No one asked her to watch him. He was doing just fine with my MIL. Did my Tia <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">really </span>just want someone to bowl with her?? If so, why didn't she go bowl? Why did she go lean against that wall with the uncle she knows I have such issues with?? </div><div><br /></div><div>A few days later my hubs talks to my Tia and she says "I'm sorry for making your life such hell the other night."</div><div>"It's alright." He's uncomfortable about the idea. I still hadn't talked about it.</div><div>"No... it's not. I'm sorry."</div><div><br /></div><div>What did that mean? Was she truly sorry for her actions? Or was she sorry that my hubs was married to some crazy over reacting bitch?? </div><div><br /></div><div>A week later - the girlfriend who was watching my son, calls me. About some author. Wants to know if I've ever read her books. No, I've never heard of her. "Oh, alright. Bye then." STRANGE. We don't ever really talk - except about books... and even that is usually limited to text messages. </div><div><br /></div><div>Fast forward two weeks. We go by their house. She wasn't around when we first got there. When she came in, she was bustling around doing stuff. I eventually say Hi when I get close. I got no answer. Then she ran to do an errand while we visited with my hubs Tio and cousin. We left before she got back. It was just too awkward for me. </div><div><br /></div><div>I tell my MIL that I'm a lil confused and hurt by it. She says that my Tia told her that I didn't say hi to her, so why would she say hi to me?? But that she did feel bad that we were gone before she got back from her errand. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm SO confused!!! This was two weeks ago and I'm still so unsure of how I feel.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm hurt. I'm hurt because the joke was just <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">not </span>funny. No one could possibly think that was funny. I'm hurt because I still don't know the truth. I'm scared because I know if I tried to find out the truth they'd tell me that I'm over thinking something that was so minor and to let it go. I'm hurt because I don't know if I should be mad at the girlfriend or not. What if she didn't really say it that way?? Did my Tia really need a bowler, or was she sick and tired of seeing her soon to be daughter in laws playing with my kids all night?? She did mention that she was a lil sad that I wasn't having fun and bowling that night - I know she picked up on my foul anxious mood. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm still so hurt. I feel stupid for having gotten so close to her. I've tried for a very long time to not get close to people. I've been let down and left too many times. After losing my mom, I had been broken to a point that I didn't think I'd ever recover. </div><div><br /></div><div> I don't want to say that I looked at her as a mother figure - but I did consider her as more than an in-law. In my opinion, family shouldn't judge. They should love you <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">for</span> who you are, not in spite of it. They should be able to say "This is my crazy ass niece who panics for no reason and is a bit controlling, but she's an awesome mom and makes my nephew happy, so we love her." Yet, I feel like I was judged on the one thing I'm most sensitive about. Being a mom. I felt like I was smacked in the face, on a particularly sensitive day. </div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe it wasn't a big deal, maybe I am over reacting... but I am so fucking hurt. To the core. When I think of going around her or talking to her, or of the event in question, I feel like my nerves are raw and exposed. </div><div><br /></div><div>What am I going to do???</div>Young Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02130063866026301539noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-68235658397190435002009-02-25T02:02:00.000-08:002009-02-25T02:09:21.637-08:00It's not "what I do"Like Mesa did yesterday, I'm posting about things people say that irritate me to no end. <div><br /></div><div>I've been having a mild freak out lately. Nothing too serious. But, I called my sister in law, because she is kind of an expert in the area of which I'm freaking about. </div><div><br /></div><div>When I tell her that I'm freaking out and want her opinion, she laughs and says</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"That's just what you do. Just stop."</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">UGH!!!</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Can I tell you - if it was <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">only<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">that</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">easy</span>!</span> I can't just flip this on and off like a light switch. I have no control over this. When I get a little mommy worry in my head, it turns into a full fledged panic over something being wrong with a situation, or with my baby, or with whatever it is that I'm panicked over! </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm still in the process of learning what this disorder is all about. My hubs is still learning how to handle all of it, as well. I love him so much. He's really trying, and he's incredibly patient. When I told him how it hurt me when his sister said this, he asked me "What would the right answer have been??"</div><div><br /></div><div>There isn't a right answer. All I wanted was an answer though. Not a criticism on why or how I act the way I do. Just let me know what I'm asking about. Don't call me out on how I'm wrong for even worrying about it in the first place.</div><div><br /></div><div>Am I never going to have his family understand??</div><div><br /></div><div>This is not something I have control over. This is not something that will just stop or go away. This is <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">me</span>. Love it or hate it. I am a panicked woman. I don't have control over my emotions, and half the time I'm lucky if I have control over my thoughts. </div><div><br /></div><div>This makes me feel like I'm always going to feel alone. On the outside and misunderstood. </div><div><br /></div><div>It's a shitty place to be. </div>Young Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02130063866026301539noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-77137548214113989212009-02-24T09:26:00.000-08:002009-02-24T09:57:30.658-08:0050-50I vented yesterday, it helped and surprisingly my hubs must have read it cause it got us to communicate. He is not an easy one to talk too, but then again sometimes neither am I. I am stubborn and it's my family's fault. Almost all the women in my family are stubborn, it's because of my grandma, she was the most stubborn of us all and taught us very well :).<br /><br />I am a work in progress, as you know, and because of my history I am learning how to be more of a 50-50 type person. Or think of it as treat others how you want to be treated, if you communicate with me I'll communicate with you, if you shut me out I shut you out, simple, right?! I'll let you know.<br /><br />**More of my story**<br /><br />My past is speckled with all kinds of colors, there was a time when it was black, with only one or two pinholes of white, during the blackest time I thought for sure there would never be color again. You see when I was 22 I met a boy, he was handsome, sophisticated, smart and super funny, oh yea, he was also an alcoholic, drug addict and gambling addict and EXTREMELY abusive. For almost 3 years I became this person who also became addicted to all the same things he was, I allowed him to take from me everything that made me ME, I became a shell of a person. I lost my daughter, my car, my home, my friends, a few jobs, and the respect of my family. I finally woke up one day and said enough, I had a guardian angel looking out for me, a girl I worked with offered me a place to stay and she essentially saved me. I was able to get my self together and then I met Mark. He brought back the color to my life, I had started and he added more.<br /><br />I think my life runs in cycles, sometimes there are more colors and other times there are just a few. Right now, I am adding and subtracting, the colors are indicative of people, emotions, goals and accomplishments. This blog and the co-author Young Momma are two of the most vibrant in my current rainbow, I am most grateful for this time in my life. As crazy as I am sometimes, it's moments like this one that help me to see the calm that lies ahead. '<br /><br />I think life is all about a 50-50 (with the occasional 60-40, when someone has to handle more of the load than the other) and right now I am at my full 50 :) and willing/capable to give extra if and when the need arises.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-12316315262056818452009-02-23T10:07:00.000-08:002009-02-24T09:16:50.286-08:00It's All In Your Head? Really?!Every couple has spats, I am aware of this. I am also aware of how a person's tone of voice can cause a trigger in me. I have a few major triggers, which thanks to the meds, I have been able to find out what they are and somewhat gain control over them. The worst thing you can possibly say to me EVER is "you're just telling yourself that, IT'S ALL IN YOUR HEAD" . I already live a majority of the time in my head so I know what goes on in there way better than anyone else and trust me I know what's real and what's not. Hubs said this very line to me last night because I got grumpy about the way he was talking to me, he does this passive agressive thing, where he'll ask a question in this condescending voice and without actually saying "yes, you did this wrong" he'll make a point of it to question me and the way it comes out is just like an attack. I have tried over and over to ask him to please not talk to me that way, to please be mindful of how exactly you word things or say things in a nicer tone, and he says "IT'S ALL IN YOUR HEAD- I DON'T TALK LIKE THAT or I DIDN'T SAY IT THAT WAY", when you say a phrase like that it causes this surge of anger and waves of sadness, I already feel crazy enough as it is and now you're treating me like I am.<br /><br />I am at a loss today, I just feel F.I.N.E (Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-26485399229956170762009-02-22T02:33:00.000-08:002009-02-22T03:17:30.646-08:00Back PackIt's hard to know <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">where</span> to start. Where exactly does <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">this</span> story start? If you study child development, this most likely all started <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">long</span> before I can even remember having a thought. Where do I remember <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">this</span> starting though?? I have <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">no</span> idea. <div><br /></div><div>I remember my mom putting me in counseling when I was 11 years old. I don't remember why. I think it's that I was fighting with her and my step dad too much. They were in the beginning stages of a very nasty divorce. </div><div><br /></div><div>I remember having my first panic attack sometime after I turned 12. I didn't know what it was. I even remember thinking to myself "Am I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">faking</span> this?" "Am I doing this for <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">attention</span>?" and then the sudden realization of "Oh, fuck. I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">can't</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">stop</span> this." </div><div><br /></div><div>I hate the term "cutter". I wasn't a "cutter". But I would dig and dig and dig at my skin until I bled. I forget how I got caught. I know it happened at school. I remember the police coming and having a woman teacher come in and watch as they asked me to lift my pant leg. I refused. They called my mother. I cried. I knew they knew. I knew something was going to change. Something big. I was either going to leave in an ambulance, tied to a stretcher and brought to 72 hr lock up or go with my mother to my counselor. I forget how my mom talked them into letting her take me. I was put into an intensive out patient group for suicidal, angry, depressed teenagers. I don't know if I hated being called suicidal, or if I thought it was hilarious. I do know that the IOP group made me realize that there were some crazy fucking kids out there - and I was <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">not</span> one of them. My issues didn't compare - by a long shot. I was in the group with girls who took blades to their arms. One girl had a line of scars. Like tallies on a score board. Another girl had talked of memories in a padded room where she did nothing but run and throw herself against the walls all day - for the fun of it. Another girl who swallowed a bottle of pills, for who knew what reason. A boy who had thoughts of throwing his grandmother down the stairs. It was scary. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Forget the fact that he became my best friend for a few years. Until he got </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">real</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> crazy.)</span></div><div><br /></div><div>It just kept going from there. There is so much that I went through, I don't know where to begin. Or what is worth mentioning. I want to leave a lot of it for later posts. To give you a real idea of how these things effected me, rather than a list of my roller coaster life. </div><div><br /></div><div>One time, when I was in counseling... somewhere around 17 years old... I had a counselor ask me to do a project. I refused, and I don't remember why. But that project has stuck in my head ever since. I still haven't done it... but I think this blog is - in it's own way - a part of this project. </div><div><br /></div><div>She said that she wanted me to make a timeline of my life. From the day I was born to the present date. For every traumatic thing that had happened to me, she wanted me to mark the age and a title. Then she wanted me to write what had happened. At the end of it, I was to make a sort of "back pack" and decide what of that I wanted to keep with me and what I wanted to leave behind. What of it I thought was worth keeping, because of the ways it changed me. And what of it wasn't, because I didn't feel the changes were good or necessary ones. </div><div><br /></div><div>I question these things all the time. What in life can you <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">really</span> regret? </div><div>Do you love yourself today??? Is it in spite of or because of the things that you've gone through?? They've all, in fact, made you who you are today. So, what would I take in that back pack??? I don't know. Maybe this blog will help me figure that out. </div><div><br /></div><div>I can tell you that I have been diagnosed as having an <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anxiety_disorder">anxiety disorder</a>. I'm sure the diagnosis would be more exact if I could afford to see a professional. Sadly, all I can afford is a doctor who continues to want to push pills down my throat and another who doesn't think I'm "at that stage, yet."</div><div><br /></div><div>If you ask <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anxiety_disorder">Wikipedia</a> - I've got generalized anxiety disorder, panic disorder, phobias, obsessive-compulsive disorder, and post traumatic stress disorder. Gotta love wiki, right?</div><div><br /></div><div>I can tell you that I know for a fact that I have been anxious since I was about 14 years old. It might have started before that, but that's when I remember having panic affect my day to day life. </div><div><br /></div><div>I can tell you that I tried medication once, have been prescribed medication at least three times, and am currently trying to cope <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">without</span> medication. </div><div><br /></div><div>Some things I can state, easily enough, because they would be known by any of my followers from <a href="http://perfectpen.blogspot.com">Perfect Pen</a>. Stories about them can be found on that blog.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't have either of my parents. I lost both before I turned 19 years old. I have no grandparents. I have some aunts and uncles, but none that I'm close with. I try to have a close relationship with some of my in laws, but we all know the twisted shit that goes into that. I have two younger brothers who I sometimes think are more of a headache then what our relationship is worth. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(I know, that sounds awful, but I just am so exhausted by them.)</span> One of them has an<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anxiety_disorder"> anxiety disorder</a>, the other is diagnosed as being <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schizoaffective_Disorder">schizoaffective</a>. Both are drug addicted alcoholics. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have been with my husband since I was a child. I have two children. The three of them are the best things that could have ever happened to me in this life. I have a faith in God that hasn't always been strong, but that is growing stronger as I learn more about myself.</div><div><br /></div><div> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">All</span> of this takes some sort of roll in my anxiety and my healing process. </div>Young Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02130063866026301539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-37481479693952769032009-02-20T17:33:00.000-08:002009-02-22T10:37:50.373-08:00What it's like being Bi-Polar, a wife, a mom and friend***Part of Mesa's Story***<br /><br /><br /><br />Hi to all that are support seekers or givers! I'm so glad you stopped by :). I hope that you will find some peace and comfort here amidst the Mania that causes Anxiety, Depression, etc..etc.. I am sharing a part of myself with you that not many know. I was diagnosed as being Bi-Polar a litte over a year ago, I also have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Seasonal Effective Disorder (SED..instead of sad..lol) and Anxiety! Let me tell you <em>IT IS A LOT OF FUN</em> being me, kinda..haha.. I tend to use humor to downplay the seriousness of my "illnesses". If there's 2 words that I wish could be banished they are Mental Illness, for those of us that have issues, and know that we have issues, calling us mentally ill puts a stigma on us, most of the time it makes me feel like I should be locked up (which maybe I should be?? That will be determined at a later time..although if you ask my closest friends they would whole heartedly agree..hehe).<br /><br /><br /><br />How did I get to be this way you might be thinking? The short version is my up bringing or environment to which I was exposed. The long version, is well, quite a bit longer, so how about I just make it a medium version..compromise..gotta love it (again with the sarcastic humor..I know). Anyway, back to why I'm a maniac (singing the maniac song in my head), my father was bi-polar, my mother was depressed ALL the time, and they were both drug addicts. I saw at a very young age just what drugs can do to people and how violent they can become, I watched some beatings take place that have forever scarred me..hence- the need for counseling now at the age of 30! I knew growing up that something was a little off about me, but no one ever caught on, not until I was 19. I had my first BIG freak out. I will not go into all the details I will only say that I was crying out for help and no one could hear me. My second BIG freak out happened at 22. I have since then learned NOT TO FREAK out the way I had those 2 times and am now becoming better. I suppose I should give a definition to the BIG FREAK OUTS=Suicide Attempts. I knew the first time I tried that I wasn't going to die, it was just a cry for help. The second time well I thought maybe I might, however, God had other plans for me. I'll leave that for another post.<br /><br />I had originally written a very long post doing a kind of chronological order of my past, but I chose to delete it because it was long and I felt that I should save some of that stuff for a later time. What I know about life right now and my purpose for sharing this story with all of you is stuff like what Young Momma and I are going through need to be talked about. I think that the longer people sit in silence the worse they become. Having 2 psychiatrists these days has been a big help for me, I have one that regulates my meds and one strictly for counseling. I take 3 different medications, Cymbalta, Lamictal and Mini-Press. The 3 combined are supposed to help keep me stable, some days they work, some days they don't. I'm still on the fence about them. I don't want to be chained to them for the rest of my life, but I might have to be. That is an on going event that will be explored more later.<br /><br />The biggest thing for me is that I have always craved stability in my life, my marriage to Mark has by far been the best thing to have ever happened to me, along with both of my children of course :). SOmetimes I feel completely alone though, not having my mom, or my grandma has been the hardest things for me to deal with lately. I'll write more about that later too. I will end this post here for now...Thanks for reading.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4515012945986741112.post-48277909360118215852009-02-18T18:32:00.000-08:002009-02-18T18:42:15.467-08:00Welcome!!!This is a new blog by me, Young Momma (<a href="http://perfectpen.blogspot.com">Perfect Pen</a>) and Mesa (<a href="http://mesa1978.blogspot.com/">The Bush Family</a>). We've started this blog to help ourselves and others. Recently I posted about having to decide if I thought medication was the right path for my anxiety disorder, and Mesa was right there to help me. As were a lot others. Mesa and I thought it would be an awesome idea to start this blog. We could vent and share our stories. We could hear from other women/men about what they've gone through and how their coping. Things they've tried, what does and doesn't work. <div><br /></div><div>We're still in the process of figuring out a "schedule" of sorts, but we'll be trying to post as often as possible. We also plan on featuring different <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">bloggers</span>. We aren't sure if it will happen once a week or once a month, but it'll happen. If you want us to feature your blog, comment us here and we'll e-mail you letting you know what to do! :)</div><div><br /></div><div>We're looking forward to seeing where this blog goes and what type of feedback we'll get! </div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks for stopping by, and please don't forget to follow us! :)</div>Young Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02130063866026301539noreply@blogger.com5