No one

A lot of people come to me with their problems. A lot of people get advice from me by the time we are done talking. A lot of people feel better after talking to me about what is going on with them and their lives. What a lot of people don't know is that I don't tell them my problems. Especially when they are telling me theirs. I think it is rude to interject my problems onto them when they are telling me their woes. 

I have been especially emotional these past few months. It was one thing after another after another. And when I would talk to someone, they would feel the need to tell me what is going on with them. Shutting me out, leaving me feeling like my woes are not significant enough for them to listen to. I have a tendency to feel what the other person is going through when they talk to me. I don't remember how long I've been like this, but it makes me feel like my problems don't mean as much to the person I am talking to. 

This past month, I haven't been able to talk to my friends or family about what I am going through and why I feel like I am in this deep, deep hole, and I can't get a grip to get out yet. I know I will. I always do. I know the only time I won't be able to get myself out is when I am no longer here. I try so hard to be the best I can be with what I can provide for myself. But with the emergency surgery and all the illness that has come with it, I am struggling to provide even the basic necessities for myself. Let alone for others.

Just once I would love for someone to give to me, what I have given to them, someone to just listen, and if they can offer any advice without interjecting their own problems, that would be the icing on the cake for me. But if all you can do is listen, then please. Just listen. Let me know that I have someone to turn to without having to turn off my feelings to help you. I just can't do it anymore. 

On all the time

Have you ever felt like you had to be on all the time? Like no matter what is going on in life, you had to appear like everything in your mind is in order? Like nothing outside of yourself is bothering you, because you are the one everyone goes to? The one everyone tells their inner most secrets to?

I've felt that way. I feel that way almost every day of my waking life. I don't know when it happened. I don't know why it happened. But it did. And once people started to realize how beneficial I was to them, I became their sounding broad. I became their confidant that they can tell anything to. And not worry about me telling anyone else, because I don't like others spreading what I told them in confidence, to another person. So I keep my mouth shut.

I've kept my mouth shut for so long, and for so many other people, that they do not ask me what is really going on. They do not wait for me to tell my side of the story. And when I do actually get to say something, it goes unnoticed or ignored by the one person that feels they can unload their life on me. 

When do I get a chance to tell you what is going on in my world? When do I get the chance to say, I am hurting so much inside, that it's overflowing into your world, but you're so consumed by your mess, that you don't see mine? Did you forget that I am only a human being, with only so much I can take, before I explode? Why don't you see that I am hurting inside? Why don't you feel my energy not being positive? I don't have the energy to be your overflow of your emotions. Most of the time I do, but now? Right now, I don't have it.

I can't keep doing this to myself. I can't be everyone's go to all the time. You have other people in your life that you can talk to. You tell me about them all the time. But when I finally get to say what needs to be said, you don't have time for that. You got what you needed off your chest. You get to feel better about your life. Have YOU ever stopped to think, what about Lorna? How is she really managing to hold it all together? Does my happiness mean as much to you, as yours means to me? If you don't know how to answer that, then maybe we need to talk about our friendship, and see if it really is a friendship, or just someone using someone else?

Livin' my life in a slow hell...

I was asked recently how I was able to live my life knowing I was molested as a young girl. Being treated differently by my mom compared to my sister. Knowing that I lived with the pain I endured as a child, alone. No one knew what I had gone through. No one knew I had been molested by family. No one. Not even my sister, who knows everything about me, knew. I kept my mouth shut and my head down.

I honestly thought everything that had happened to me was my fault. My fault for not saying no. My fault for allowing a trusted adult to hurt me, like I've never been hurt before. I thought, since it was done to me, it was done to everyone. No one spoke of any wrong doing to others in my family. Not until I was much older, and deeper in my pain, was it acknowledged, by anyone other than myself, that our family wasn't as "good" as we thought. 

I learned how to "act" around my mom. Everything I did though, was in vain. The hurtful words were said. The discipline was enforced. My sister don't know how deeply I was hurt until much, much later. But she knew I needed taken care of the only way a sister knows how. She became, not only my "mom", but a "mom" to many other kids. 

I don't know how to explain how I lived after I was molested, and hurt, but I did. And survived. Having a shitty life thrust upon you is hard to deal with. But nothing is impossible or unmanageable. You just learn to listen to your surroundings, watch and see everyone that crosses your path. It's hell on the mind, being so observant, but it's amazing what your brain can handle. 

Livin life on my terms. Not life's

So. I had a question asked of me last week that got me thinkin'. Can I live life on life's terms without medication. No I can't live life without meds. I know what I'm like without meds. And it's scary deadly. 

Initially I got on anti-depressants to ease pms symptoms. Then it helped with the depression that I was trying to hide with booze. But I didn't work on myself then. I just thought I was "cured" and didn't need to drink because I was on Prozac. That turned out to be a big fat fucking NO! I was not cured. I was not anywhere near healthy. But I insisted I was. Even tried to get others to stop drinking because my life was so much better without booze. 

The truth is, an anti-depressant alone isn't enough. I needed to work on why I used, and what made me tick. I was so fucking scared to face my demons and hurts that I didn't want to even pack to go to treatment. But my sister being my sister, knew that I wasn't going to do what needed to be done. And so she packed my suitcase for me, and had me finish up by choosing my shirts that I wanted. 

Treatment fucking sucked balls. Seriously. I was a mess the first two and a half months. I let everyone know what happened to me growing up, and I've heard that others were able to heal by hearing my story. But once I was able to admit I had an addiction that I could not hide behind anymore, I started my healing process. And now I am able to face my predaters face to face and not bat an eye. They mean nothing to me now and have no power over me. 

I know that gradually tapering off an anti-depressant is an option. But it sure as hell isn't an option on going to consider so soon in my recovery. And I sure as hell won't get off birth control anytime soon either. But that is a whole other story that I won't get into this time around.

So will I live my life on life's terms? Fuck no. 

2-10-14

*huge sigh* Long time no blog. It's been years since I've seen you. Not that I didn't want to see you. It's just that I didn't want to see what's inside myself. That's what I use this blog for. Looking within to find words and feelings I've lost in the jumbled mess of my brain. 

I have gone through a lot of changes since the last time I was on. I had started drinking and drugging again. Gone through treatment and ceased drinking and drugging again. This time though, I am facing my demons, fighting through each agonizing and treacherous memory, thought, feeling - sober. 

I never in my wildest dreams would have thought I would be able to face my past sober. I thought I would just go through life a drunk, pain killer induced being running from my fears. But I was slapped in the face by my past and woke up in a place I never thought I would, the ICU, detoxing from the drugs that I ingested, trying to make the pain go away.  That is when I realized I needed more help than just myself, and the wine I used to numb the pain.

I've come to the realization that there are many things out of my control. The words my mom uses towards me. The way others perceive me, no matter how open and honest I am. I can only control myself, and my thoughts and actions.

Most days I don't even want to leave my apartment, or shower, or even eat when I am hungry. I can blame it on my depression. But I can also put it all on myself because my depression does not own me. I cannot let it consume every waking minute of me. Easier said than done, right? Wrong. All I have to do is go to the kitchen and make myself something to eat. Go to the bathroom and take a shower. Work on the packet that has been sitting on my floor since I brought it from my last meeting with my clinician. I physically tell myself to do these things, then do them. Easier said then done.

It's not easy being me. It's not eat knowing there is a world of people I can call, or text, or message when I am feeling down. Once I feel this way, it's hard for me to tell others what is going on with me. I don't want them to know I can't get out of bed. That I can't bring myself to eat when hungry. I don't want anyone to know how human I really am. And that thought frightens me. 

Partyin is not the way....

I thought this weekend was a blast from the past. Turns out it was just shit. All. Fucking. Weekend.

I did things that I thought I would never do. I can't take back what I did or undo the things I said. I just want to wollow in my depressed mood. Just sit here and be miserable. I just can't though. I have too much riding on my life at the moment to just let things be.

My actions caused me to step back from life and see who my real friends are. I'm not sure how things are going to go. I'm not even sure I will have the few really good friends I have after what has happened. I did not mean to upset anyone but I have and am paying the consequence.

My dad

We usually are at the gravesite today. But my sister had to bring Adya out to hooper for the funeral. There are many unanswered questions my sister and have about our dads death. But no one will tell us anything. It makes me wonder what really happened that day. He had two of the most awesomesy babies in the world. I dont see why he couldnt just live for us. I understand where he was in depression, but I've always been able to pull myself out of it. Why. Why wont anyone tell us what happened.