Musings on mental health & the Connection issue

Written 8/23/2012

It’s very strange how the mind works.  In my numerous and wild experiences with mental illness, the shining beacon in the distance has been happiness.  I know now that it simply isn’t realistic to be totally joyful all of the time.  Even mentally healthy people aren’t that cheerful 24/7.  The goal is not to fix everything, to make everything perfect, to never be sad again.  The goal is simply to be stable and to live in moderation. 

Imagine, if you will, the mind and mood as a sine wave (because this is always how therapists and doctors have demonstrated this to me, not mathematically speaking, but as a visual aid).  Everyone’s mood goes up and down, up and down throughout the day, weeks, and other varying amounts of time depending on the individual, their experiences, and their mental health.  Healthy minds are, to the best of my understanding, like even sine waves.  Their moods travel between neat little hills and valleys.  My mood, however, is more like a tumultuous seismic wave flying way off the Richter scale.  Sometimes my mood swings are fast, which is very frustrating.  Other times I can count on being depressed for quite a while.  If ever my mind gains any resemblance to a tidy little sine wave, I know it will be parallel to, however below that of a healthier person’s mind.  Like I said earlier, stability is the goal, so even if it is a darker, less pleasant stability I will take what I am given and continue to try to focus on the positive. 

 

Seismic Wave:

 

The past week or so has been, emotionally, a blur.  I am stressed out because I’m starting college on Monday, and there is so much to do between now and then to get ready.    I doubt it will be, but I am terrified that it will be like high school – not the social aspect of it, but academically.  In high school I was depressed, unfocused, and self-loathing.  My lack of confidence in myself led me to believe that doing school work was just setting myself up for failure, which would make me feel worse.  I have to try so much harder now to be happy and focused so that I can get my work done.  College is so important to me!  This is the part of my life where maybe my dreams will start to come true.  I just have to keep it together, and not screw everything up. 

I’m looking forward to throwing myself into school and studying because I need something to keep my mind off how confused, depressed, insane, and frightened I am.  I’m confused because I have absolutely no idea what’s going on in my head, and I feel that I have very little control over my emotions lately.  Being depressed is a given.  I have been depressed since I was a child, so I don’t expect that to change any time soon, if ever.  I say insane because in the unpredictability of my thoughts and emotions, I’ve been doing some very strange things… for a few days this week I was distracted by work, but I was unable to sleep and stayed up until the wee hours of the morning writing letters, cleaning obsessively, spending hours organizing my shoes and earrings.  I have been living by ‘to-do’ lists because late at night while I’m scrambling to make my room look perfect I am afraid that I won’t remember what I’m supposed to do the next day to continue this charade of perfection, health, and stability. 

Today I didn’t have to work, and it has been a wild ride.  I woke up relatively cheerful, went to therapy and had a wonderfully cathartic session, came home depressed and binged rather than having a normal lunch.  I then when to the library, where I moped in a study room because there was someone on Facebook that I wanted very badly to talk to, but I didn’t have the guts to say hi and didn’t know what I would say if she had time to talk to me.  When I came home from the library this evening I was faced with the decision of going to group and being miserable in the presence of my ex-girlfriend and several people that I really don’t like, or wandering around downtown by myself.  I decided to go downtown.  I had a marvelous time there!  I walked around the street market, ate pizza, a crepe, and two of the most amazing cupcakes I have ever tasted in my life.  I went for a ride on a bike cab, which was utterly ridiculous and made me want to laugh out loud.  I went home feeling blissful and well satisfied with the evening’s adventures. 

Now I am in bed, typing up this post because I feel miserable all over again.  I’m depressed (surprise, surprise) and angry at myself for feeling this way.  I feel pathetic, out of control, and scared because I hate not knowing what will happen next.  What will tomorrow be like? I don’t like having a whole day with no plans , because when I am left to my own devices and trapped in my head things can get very messy. 

Shower Prayers

Hello, hello everyone!  I'm back!  I am now writing from my new city.  That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I have moved out of my hometown and my personal hell and am now living in a city 30 minutes from where I grew up.  I will be living in my gramma's attic for the next couple years while I study for my associate's degree in liberal arts.  I graduated on June 3rd, moved on the 6th, and I'm loving it. 

Last weekend I went to the United Church of Christ annual meeting. It was a great experience!  A lot of people from my church told me, It's all long meetings... you're going to get so bored...it's just church politics... On the contrary - I learned a lot and made some great friends.  I will, however, admit that my ass did get quite sore sitting through those lengthy meetings.  I got to learn more about the UCC, participate in a flash mob, and attend some great workshops.  I helped out with communion during sunday worship. 

During worship, a video of youth interviews was shown.  The footage was taken at our last weekend camp and each of the youth had been asked to talk about their faith journey and what the church meant to them.  My interview was at the end of the video.  I talked for the longest.  It was kind of embarassing to watch... I spoke about my eating disorder, my dying catholic faith, and how the United Church of Christ fostered new spiritual growth after my struggles with mental illness, and coming out.  After the service, several people approached me to thank for openly sharing the story of my faith journey.  I got a lot of hugs... and we all know, I love hugs.  It was a cool experience.  :)

I had a hard time eating at the conference.  Since I moved out of my parents' house, I've been struggling more with my eating disorder.  I have yet to get used to my new environment and routine.  I ate only one meal over the entire weekend at the UCC conference.  I talked to my youth pastor about it, and that helped.  She is my rock.  While we were in taize at the conference, I started to cry because the prayers we were singing touched me so deeply.  They were prayers for help, prayers for comfort, and that is just what I need.  I felt so connected to God and so in need of God's love in that moment... I had hoped that no one would see me cry, and I managed to be dry-eyed by the time taize was over and the lights came back on (we'd been meditating in candle light).  I had been seen though, and I was faced with a crowd of people wondering if I was okay and trying to console me.  I was mortified and furious with myself.

I booked it out of there... some of the youth were going for a walk, and I went with them.  I was in a foul, self-hating mood.  I didn't really want to go for a walk, but I also didn't want to turn down the opportunity to hang out with my church friends.  I walked with them for a while and then headed back to my dorm.  I went to my room, got ready for bed, and turned off the lights... I had a taize candle & candle holder in my room that a pastor had given me after my emotional episode.  I didn't want the damn candle, it was too much of a reminder of the humiliating incident during taize.  I took the candle out of my bag and I was going to get rid of it, but I discovered a chip in the glass candle holder.  There was a sliver of broken glass in the bottof of the candle holder.  I took it out and made a half-hearted attempt at self harm, but it didn't really work.  I wasn't trying hard enough; I didn't really want to cut.  I threw the broken piece of glass across the room as hard as I could and listened to it bounce off the opposite wall in the dark. 

I'm having a hard time adjusting to the new city and whatnot, but it's not all bad.  I have hard times still, and I'm really lonely.  I'm having fun though... I'm able to spend more time with friends because I'm close to them.  I can ride my bike all over town and I have access to the library, my church, GLYS, and various theaters.  My faith means everything to me right now.  I'm praying a lot for help with my mental illness and giving thanks for my new life. 

This morning while I was in the shower, I felt very relaxed.  I was very aware of how the water felt running over my skin, and the steam caressing my face. I lifted my hands a little, palms open, and said a prayer for help, for healing, and a prayer of thanks for my move and my good friends.  A warm, relaxing shower is a great place for morning prayer and meditation.  It's a bit like baptism, I suppose.  It's purifying. 

I'm going out to see Dark Shadows this afternoon with a friend, and this evening I'm going to an LGBT youth group meeting and then to a presentation at my church... some missionaries who have just returned from a year in Zimbabwe are going to talk to the congregation about their missionary work and experiences. 

I just rubbed my eye and probably totally fucked up my eyeliner... great. 

Dear readers, I have a favor to ask.  A friend of mine has recently come out but he is unsure about his sexuality.  Pray for him, send him vibes, keep him in your thoughts - whatever it is you do.  He's a great friend and I wish nothing but the very best for him. 

Create a beautiful day, guys...
xxx

A Sad Playlist for a Sad Day

Fiona Apple -Limp
Marina and the Diamonds -Teen Idle
Sia -I'm In Here
Elliot Smith -Between the Bars
Skylar Grey -Invisible

I would love for someone to grab my shoulders, shake me and say "I can tell you've lost weight. You look sick. What have you eaten today?" so I can have the satisfaction of saying "Absolutely nothing."

I don't think anyone has noticed, though.  And if they have, they don't care enough to do anything about it.

The Only Title I Can Come Up With Is: "Today Sucked."

I am the kind of girl who always tries her hardest to put on a happy face, and takes off this mask only when she is sincerely unable to smile.  For people who know me, you may think that this isn't entirely true - or on the contrary you may think that I really am happy all the time.  It depends on how well you know me and how much  of my personal struggles I am willing to share with you.  Either way, I feel that most people don't have a clear perception of who I am and what I feel. 

Tonight is one of those times when I physically cannot smile.  Too often I say, "I'm okay, it's okay. Don't worry about it!" and don't let anyone know that I'm actually hurt, or angry, or sad, or confused.  I tend to let people walk all over me.  Sometimes this is a good thing, but sometimes its too much.  I need to write about this.  I need to get it off my chest and hopefully feel better as a result.  I don't intend to hurt anyone's feelings, place blame, or make anyone feel bad.  If I do, I am very sorry and I really don't mean to do so.

Ever since my first spring play, I have looked forward to being recognized as a senior in my final spring play.  The director gives each senior a card and flowers.This year was my turn for that, but I missed the boat... I went back and forth debating whether I wanted to be in the play.  I didn't try out, but got a part.  I only wanted a small part, but felt that I wasn't living up to my potential and that I would disappoint someone if I didn't take on a larger role.  So I switched from a one-liner to a more substantial supporting role of a character named Clougheïe.  I wasn't enjoying myself at practices at all.  I was depressed, self-concious, and felt like an outsider with the rest of the cast.  My depression got the best of me and I quit the play. 

Weeks later I felt bad that I wasn't a part of it anymore and went to one of the final rehearsals, hoping to put my time and talents into a backstage job.  I was assigned to helping out with makeup.  The first night of the job, several girls in the cast made it very clear to me that I was not wanted there.  They didn't think it was fair for me to quit and then come back and expect to be able to participate.  I don't blame them...

 I made sure one of the guys who was helpless with makeup got ready, and then moved on to lights.  The other kid on lights treated me like I was an idiot and when no one else was around he told me he felt good about his job with lights and curtain, but he was really worried that I was going to screw up the whole show.  That didn't make me feel very good.  I am just as capable of running sound and lights as he is. 

At the end of the show, the I went up onstage at the end of the curtain call with the other guy on lights & curtain.  There were three seniors on the stage.  Two of them were recognized, given their hug, card, and flowers.  I was not. 

I do not, in any way blame the director for forgetting about me.  It's my own damn fault because I quit.  I should have toughed my way through it even though it was hard.  I am really disappointed in myself for giving up my role.  It was a stupid move.  Yes, I remember exactly what my sadness and discomfort felt like when I was in the play, and it was awful.  I've felt like that in other plays as well, but I stuck with it in the past.  I'm furious with myself for not doing so in this case. 

I ruined this evening for myself, and I am not looking forward to going back tomorrow.

Today is a terrible day.

I'm supposed to be taking notes right now, but I just don't feel like it.  I don't care about much of anything at present.  I would give anything to be in the sanctuary at Peace church right now.  I'm tired and sad and run-down.

I miss my girlfriend.  Oh sorry, I mean ex-girlfriend.

I feel empty, void.  There's a blackness in my chest that won't go away. My insatiable need for affection is eating away at me.  Having such a tremendous need makes me feel pathetic and very irritated with myself.  I'm so frustrated with this neediness, wanting, and sickness. 

I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself! I don't want to, but that's how I feel right now.  I have lots of good reasons for this, too, so it's hard to convince myself that it's alright, I'm alright.  I am behind in three of my six classes, and owe make-up work in two more classes.  I'm trying to ask my supports for help, but I'm talkng in circles.  It's damn near impossible for anyone to help me in the state I'm in. 

I'm really hungry.  I've been indulging in "target behaviors," whatever the hell that means...  I've been reading memoirs about anoretics, and all I've eaten today is 4 oz of fat-free yogurt.  I only ate that to appease someone who's concerned about me.  I feel really bad for making people worry about me.  I'm such a stupid, worthless piece of sh*t. 

I wish Sarah would stop staring at me.  To the students sitting around me while I'm blogging in class: Yeah, I get it. We have a ten page paper to work on, and I'm already behind schedule.  I honestly don't care, though, so leave me alone and quit looking at me like I'm a hopeless bum.  I am a hopeless bum, but it's really none of your business.

The school counselor is unavailable for the next two weeks, and I only get to go to therapy once a week.  I'm screwed. I need someone to talk to.  I need someone to help me eat.  I need a hug. 

I wonder if we have play practice tonight. I can't remember. Rachel...?

I need some serious inspiration and motivation here.  I'm going nowhere fast. 

No words.

I'm having a rough day.  I feel empty.  Something is lacking.  As usual, I have no ideas, no reasons for why I feel this way.  When I have a bad day like this and there is no reason for how I feel, it seems like some part of me that I'm unaware of is in control. 

I have no words for this.  I can't even think straight.  It takes a great deal of effort just to put together a coherent sentence. 

My mom is a headcase.

Good morning! Today I am wearing boots, a convertible dress by Lapis, and studded faux-leather accessories.  To sum it up, I look haute :) Despite the incessant quarreling with my mother, I'm actually in a pretty good mood today.

Last night at 11:30 pm my mother came storming into my room saying "Where is your cell phone? Where is your cell phone?!" I was rather crabby about being so rudely woken up. 
"Why?" I said, "What do you want it for?"
"I want it to be downstairs, just give it to me," she hissed.
"It's in  my backpack," I said, and started to look for it.  It was actually sitting on top of the stack of books I have beside my bed, and I picked it up and gave it to her. 
"You little liar!"  She was practically growling at me.  "It wasn't in your backpack!"  She stormed downstairs with my phone in her hand. 

Are you confused yet? Because at this point, I certainly was.  I didn't know why the hell my mom was so set on putting my cellphone downstairs.  I certainly wasn't happy that she had woken me up in the middle of the night to take my cell phone from me for no apparent reason and call me a liar. 

I got out of bed and waited for her to come back upstairs.  When she came stomping back up to her room (it's a wonder my dad managed to sleep through this episode) I stood in the doorway and said, "I am not a liar."
"Your phone was in your hand! It wasn't in your backpack!" She said. 
"It was on the floor next to my backpack! I'm sorry it wasn't inside my bag, I forgot that I left it out.  What did you take it for?"
She just went back to bed without answering me.  I was so pissed off that it took me ages to fall asleep again. 

If anyone has any idea what the fuck went down last night, please enlighten me because I am so confused!  I wasn't using my cell phone, I was sleeping, so I don't know why she took my phone away.  This morning she didn't talk to me much, but she acted like nothing had happened.  I know she wasn't sleep walking.  She was very awake, and very pissy.  I just don't understand why.  She keeps getting angry at me for stupid little things, or for no reason at all.  I'm really sick of it and I cannot wait to move out in a few months! 

My mom is fucking mental. That's all I have to say.

Bonnie

When I was still a part of the Catholic church I had a fabulous confirmation teacher.  Due to my pent up, secret anger with God and disbelief that God existed I clammed up and didn't allow her to teach me much about my faith.  Outside of the church, however, she was a huge inspiration to me.  She, like me, had also struggled with an eating disorder in her past, and was familiar with the misery of mental illness. I used to go for long walks on summer evenings and would "coincidentally" end up at her house.  She could usually be found out in her front garden with her dog and cat enjoying the weather.  We stood outside in front of her house and had long conversations about mental illness, faith, our interests, and homophobia in the church.  She helped me through hard times.  She was always there to give me a hug when I needed it, she understood my pain but she also understood my creativity and encouraged me to put it to use when I needed emotional release. 

Unfortunately, her mental illness came back to plague her.  For nearly a year now, I have not spoken to her or heard from her.  I don't even know if she ever leaves her house anymore.  When I've tried to contact her, she says she has too many mental & physical health issues to reach out to anyone and that she is focusing all her energy on getting well and taking care of her family.  I understand and respect her decision to pull away from her social life to focus on what's really important to her, but at the same time I can't deny the fact that I miss her so much.  My heart is breaking for her because she means the world to me and I can't stand to imagine how much pain she is in. 

I saw her tonight - just a glimpse when I walked past her house with my aunt's dog.  Her hair is longer.  I can't tell if she's thinner or not.  She turned around for a moment before walking behind her house and I don't know if she saw me or recognized me.  I really wanted to yell her name, make her see me, and insist on giving her a hug; a healing embrace.  I have to respect her needs, though. 

I might write a letter, just to let her know what's going on in my world and remind her how much she means to me, and let her know I'm thinking of her and praying for her.  There's so much I want to tell her.  I want to share the news of my new found love with her, let her see my blue hair as well as show her photos of when my hair was purple.  I want to let her know I'm here for her, I will listen, and that she is worth the world to me.  It's very hard to let go and wait for her to come to me. 

I plan on inviting her to my graduation party.  I really hope she comes.