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I feel as though I am stuck in survival mode! Go away, can’t talk, can’t feel, can’t cope, I’m not home – I’ve removed myself from my body mode.
But it is safe now. Safe to feel and share and be myself. I am trying to bring myself back. My heart is floating a little to the left of my body, and I just want to snatch it and say hey! connect again, love again, FEEL again.
My heart doesn’t agree yet. With more time, I am sure that it will.
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School started today for my siblings. David started KINDERGARDEN. I remember when he was born. I remember sitting in ninth grade science dying to go home to see him. I cannot believe how much he has grown in the last year. But today he went to school and made friends. He told us that tried a ‘wax figurine’ at lunch…. we think he was talking about licorice, but I’m not sure where he picked that phrase up. What a kid – probably the most kid I have ever seen in one little body.
I am so ready to go back to school. I miss taking notes and reading text books. What is up with that? Someday.. maybe next year.
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i lost my job. i didn’t think i had a whole lot more to lose, but i’m sure that more is coming. whoop.
there is really too much to catch this little white box up on. basically this summer has been one huge emotional/mental breakdown. i’ve crossed the line. i’m not going to pretend i haven’t.
the whole world thinks that i should be hospitalized. today, driving home, was the first time that i thought that they may be right.
the quiet part of me wants to hide – to get as far away from this self-destructive girl as i can get. but i am in bondage.
and though i am afraid right now, i am still not afraid enough to DO something about who i am.
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Things are all crazy. I’ve been taking 200 mg of Effexor for the past month at least, and I honestly just don’t really like how I feel on it. It’s not that it’s Effexor, it’s that it’s an anti-depressant. I don’t feel anything and don’t think.. I can’t write. I need to write.
Plus it makes me sick. So, I’m going to wean myself off of it.
Colorado next week!
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So I went and my doctor gave me three weeks Pristiq. I’m not really sure about it.. the first day I couldn’t eat, the second was ok, and since then I have not been feeling good. Wednesday was ok until that night, and I have been lower than usual since then. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to wait it out or if I should just go back soon. I can’t really get in until the Monday after next anyway, so I guess I’ll just finish this out.
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I went to an appointment last Monday with Jen, and I liked her. She’s different, but I could tell by the way that she talked and explained things to me that she knew and understood how difficult the whole therapy situation is. But it’s going to be hard for me to share with her, and I guess overall I fear her judgment, which is silly because she is trained to be a neutral person. I am so afraid of that, though, which is going to make this hard because if I even end up telling her that I am afraid of that, it isn’t fixed by a simple “I wont’” or “I’m trained not to.” But it’s all a process I guess..
Tomorrow I have a doctor’s appointment to see about getting on anti depressants/anxiety meds. I don’t really want to be on them, but maybe I should be and should give them a shot. I called my mom and asked her to go with me, but I didn’t tell her why I was going. I guess she’ll ask and I’ll have to tell her. I’m just afraid that it’s going to get to about 3pm and I’m going to start freaking out and cancel the appointment, so I need someone to go with me to make sure that I go. It’s kind of weird, but whatever.
I need to learn how to accept help, because I don’t really know how, so please pray for me.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: anxiety, beginnings, cutting, depression, therapy
Today I called Counseling Associates. There is a lady there that has been recommended to me. But my insurance doesn’t cover therapy, and this lady only sees people who have insurance. Therefore I cannot see her.
This is a big deal because I had it planned out, under control. So now I have an appointment with someone new. Someone that may or may not be a Christian. And I know nothing about her other than that her name is Jenn. How am I supposed to trust someone that I don’t know anything about? How do I know that she can listen to the things that I have to say? It has taken me months to decide to actually make an appointment, and it took all of those months to decide to trust someone. But more specifically I decided to trust her with the things that I have to say, that I have never said. I don’t know if I can do this now.
And now I am just a name. And I know about the system. Today I should have been honest, but where would that honesty have landed me? I didn’t want it to land me in a psych evaluation, but it would have. And after that eval, I would have been in their control. But they don’t even know me. If I say “Well, honestly I feel really exposed and out of control right now, and I do want to hurt myself” then they can pretty much do whatever they want with me. But I am always a danger to myself, but I am still here, right? I can’t trust anyone because I am afraid that they are just going to lock me up.
There is a lot behind those words. I am safe. I’m always safe. I’m always in control. I’m not a risk like they would think that I am. And if I had talked to someone today, I wouldn’t have had anything to say. All I really wanted was a friend. And I even called a friend, but I was misunderstood and most likely just a pain. So I feel like I am floating around with no one to hold my hand and come with me.
I guess that is life.
[Sometimes I'm not sure if what I type is ok, but today I just want to say that I don't really care about what anyone who comes across this thinks about me. If it's too personal, then oh well.]
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I miss kamp a lot right now because of the relationships there. I miss caring for my friends and being cared for. I miss laughing and talking about God and what He was doing in our lives.
I would do anything to feel like I even had one true friend right now.
But it’s all understandable, because if I’m being myself, or the girl that I am that day, then I’m not fun to be around. But to be fun is to be fake. And faking happiness is exhausting. But that’s the cycle. Depression, isolation, and then more depression.
I have had a dark couple of weeks.
