exhausting

Last night I made the comment that I wish we had video cameras in the house so others can really see what life is life with SPD and anxiety.  In particular, our family.  The boy child's engine was on high ALL NIGHT LONG, no matter what we tried for strategies.  And just when we thought he was coming down and was heading towards bed, he thought he heard a noise in his room.  This led to an hour long battle challenge of working through the "there's a monster in my room" issue. 

Screaming.  Sweating.  Rigid body.  Crying.  Hiding.  Fear.  Talking a mile a minute (although this isn't much different from other daily moments).  Back to terror.  Us looking at each other wondering what the hell set this off and how can we bring him down. 

Eventually we got him calmed down and he started off the night in his own bed.  Whew.  It was one of those anxiety moments that I wish others could witness.  It wouldn't make me feel so alone at times, especially when trying to explain it to family & friends.

a post with no name

i have been thinking of this post for a week now.  and i just had nor made the time to post.  i think some of it was that i was not ready yet.  but it feels necessary at the moment so here goes.  this will be a long post, a painful post, but it is something i need to do.  i need to put this somewhere and this is my space.  i will be writing about things i have barely said out loud to anyone. ever.  and here i am throwing it out for the whole damn internet to see.

i recently started seeing a therapist to help me deal with some shit that has essentially bubbled up in 2012 and it was getting to the point where i knew i needed to work on resolving things or my life would be taking a serious turn for the worse.  i fully am aware that working on shit that is 36 (almost 37) years in the making is not going to be easy and this is a commitment for the long haul.  but two sessions in and it is way more fucking difficult to face some of this shit than i thought it would be.  turns out that i have been swinging my way to depression and i am much more closer to it than i thought i was.

last year was a year of change and those changes i felt at the time were good changes, which for the most part they were.  however, there are byproducts of those changes that i was not prepared for and it has compounded things.  i left the job that i thought i was going to do for years to come.  a job that was becoming very toxic for me and was harming my health (physically, mentally, and emotionally).  i enjoyed working with most of the clients i had, helping clients facilitate positive changes.  yes, some were not pleasant to work with and others were just a plain pain in the ass, but for the most part i felt like i was making a difference.  with changes that happened and the atmosphere changing, things became toxic there and i had the opportunity to resign and find something else.  a part time job that allows me time to work with the kids and make all of their appointments without missing too much work.  i have looked at it as a good change, even though it was a hard one to make.  what i have forced myself to really look at this last week is how i truly feel about that and it is way more ugly than i want or like.  i feel like i failed.  i went back to school and waited for that job.  and i gave it up.  i forced my family to adjust to a much less income on my part.  the positive is that i do have more time to focus on the kids.  but that's usually not how i tend to look at things.

i am sitting here and the tears are beginning to fall.  the sense of inadequacy is washing over me in waves.  and i am attempting to fight it.  but it is so fucking hard.

at the urging of the therapist, i watched a movie called The Shadow Effect this last week.  and it struck a chord for me.  there is a scene that literally made me freeze and have a choking sensation....a young girl is at a mirror looking at herself with a sweatshirt on.  and she begins to put on another sweatshirt and another and yet another.  each sweatshirt has a word on it and each one represents a mask that she is layering on.  boy, oh boy.  if i fully admit it, that is me.  i have discussed this with J before and talked about the mask of being "happy."  no one can see the pain, no one can see the hurt, no one can seen the joy either ultimately.  the joy has been stifled.  the negativity is weighing me down, it is crushing me.  talking with her and watching that film has encouraged me to really take a deep look at what the hell is going on inside me.  not just my head, not just my heart, but in my gut.  in the deep recesses where i let no one in.  barely even myself.  and what i find is that i believe that i am unworthy.  that i believe i am no one and i have made choices this last year that sabotages my relationships so those who care about me have an excuse to leave me.  it is a deflection of protection because i do not think i am worthy of that person's care or love.  fuck.  that is incredibly painful to write.  but it is the truth.  where does this come from?  it is something i have always done, i can remember feeling guilt over things not in my control for years.  for my entire memory.  i shoulder blame on things that are not my fault.  i feel ashamed of mistakes that i made 15-20 years ago, things that are on no one's radar anymore and are very minute, but i feel horrible about it yet today.  it is a crushing feeling i live with.  and it has crowded out the ability to feel joy on  regular basis, to feel things other than negativity and pain and anger and sadness.  i have to work hard to feel happy.  and that is really sucky thing.  but it what it is.

there is that phrase.  for most of my life, i have told myself that.  it is what it is.  but i have not allowed myself to truly live by that.  this is my discovery this week.  for the last year, i have started to feel anger over things in my childhood.  it sounds ridiculous, but please understand that i have never allowed myself to feel anger, bitterness, or sadness over it.  i have always told myself it is what it is and i cannot change it, so i have to make the best of it.  and by not allowing myself to truly feel whatever i need to about things that happened, i have kind of fucked myself up.  at least that is how i feel.  *gosh, this is the really hard part to write....the crushing panic in my belly is overwhelming.  but i need to get it out.  i must.*  for most people that know me, they know that i was a child of a teenage, unwed mother.  that we struggled for many of the early years.  for those that really know me, they know that i had to grow up at a very early age.  for those that don't know, let me paint the picture.  i am the product of an unwed teenage mom.  and in my early years, we lived with either of my grandparents or moved around a lot.  by the time i was 18, i think we had lived in approximately 18-20 different places.  i attended the same grade school during that time, but that was really the only true stability i had.  my mom never neglected me in the true sense of neglect.  but if i am to truly look at things and accept how i feel, there are times in my childhood that could screw with my sense of who i am.  i knew little about my sperm donor (whom i have mentioned before) growing up.  i was told  a few tidbits here and there, but there were not so great bits of information.  he's a drug abuser and had been in and out of jail.  he came to see me in the hospital after i was born, but that was it.  i was told his name when i was about age 10.  and a few years later, i was told he may have taken advantage of her.  years later, i was told that when things went to court for paternity, he had his friends testify that they all has sex with her too.  and years later, it was sexual assault.   for court, the decision was made by my family to not take things further.  this literally is the gist of what i know.  even as i close into age 37.  i know so very little.  and apparently it has affected me more than i could have ever dreamed of.  that fucker didn't want to have anything to do with me  my biological grandparents didn't want me.  my grandparents & teenage mother chose not to fight for me in court.  (while that certainly may have worked in my favor as i grew up, no visitation, etc, it still fucking hurts).  i was also told that i may have half siblings in the area of his.  i have this other biological piece of me that wanted nothing to do with me.  awesome.  i have always said it doesn't matter and i was better off without him.  but it does matter.  it matters to a little girl who had to grow up being a single parent child in classes of children who have moms & dads.  it matters that there wasn't another set of grandparents to kiss my boo-boo's or see me graduate high school and then college.  it fucking matters to me that they didn't want me.  and it hurts.  terribly.  and i have never expressed that before, to anyone.  i have barely allowed myself to acknowledge it in the deepest part of my soul.

i grew up as my mom grew up.  she was 16 years old when she had me.  a child herself.  and while i cannot hate her for the choices she made, i do finally feel anger over some of them.  those very close to me know that i held her hair while she puked from being drunk, went in the car the next morning searching for her glasses along side the road where she was sick the night before.  was with my grandma often so she could go out.  spent nights at her girlfriend's parents with her girlfriend's daughter while they went and partied.  for the very first years of my life, she had a boyfriend.  and in looking back, he was abusive.  he cheated on her.  but he was the first father figure in my life.  and one night while she was working, he touched me.  and i told her a bit later and she did nothing.  she brushed it away.  and i have always told myself it could have been worse and it was what it was.  but if this year it has bubbled up into one of those things that make me angry.  i don't view myself as a victim, but i am angry that when i was "hurt" she did nothing.  i accept that she may not have known what to do or was too scared, but i am allowing myself to feel beyond pissed about the situation.  that i have had to take care of her growing up.  remembering the time she had surgery when i was in 5/6th grade and i had to be the primary nursemaid, there was an ant colony that invaded our shit-hole apartment and i had to take care of it by myself.  that there were times she would have a male friend over and i would have to go to my room while she was with him.  or the time the guy wouldn't come over so we hopped in the car to pick him up from the bar.  that shit wasn't right.  and i am finally allowing myself to feel all of the feelings from my childhood.  that little girl who was scared and stability was sometimes an issue.  the woman i am today who struggles with control.  because when i am not in control i feel anxious.  but then i realize i'm not really in control anyway and i feel like i am about to lose everything.  and then i feel in my heart that i should lose everything because i'm not worth it.  i am unlovable.

i struggled greatly with perfectionism in high school.  i was very close to developing an eating disorder in my senior year.  i said that i let go of the perfectionist idea, but what i truly did was move it to a different avenue.  i became better at beating myself up privately.  i became a master at the masks. i have put on weight as a protection mechanism and while i have tried to become healthier over the years, i have not been successful because i don't believe i am worth it nor that i can actually do it.  i have sabotaged myself and made excuses.  and i have been afraid of taking a real hard look at why i gained it and why i don't want to lose it.  i have made my persona the 'plump chic who likes to laugh and make jokes" because it is easier to deal with others and what's inside.  laughter is used as a deflection tool for me sometimes.  i do not allow people to get close to me.  even my partner, who i pledged to spend my life with.  i drive him away sometimes, and at the time i am doing it, i am hating myself even more.  i have very few *close* friends.  it is easier for me that way.  while i am more of an introvert and recharge with time by myself, i also know that when i am feeling poorly emotionally, i shut myself down from many outside activities, especially if they are group activities.   even though in the days leading up to it, i want to participate...when the day comes, i just can't.  lately, it's because someone might see through the mask.  emotionally, things are bubbling at the surface for me and if sometime asks me how things are going, i cannot promise that i won't be able to turn on the happy face and say "things are great."  when it comes down to it, that's what people want to hear.  they don't want to hear that one is suffering or frustrated or whatever right now.

i sit here now with no tears, no snot streaming out of my nose, and the feeling of "oh shit, what are you doing" is gone from my gut.  i feel amazing that i wrote this.  that i expressed it.  and this is just the beginning.  i have a shit ton of work ahead of me, but i think i can do it.  i have to, there is no other option as i cannot keep functioning the way i was.

this is the end of the post with no name for now.  but i will be writing more as i make my way through the metamorphosis.  please be kind, please do not take what i have shared and misuse it.  please know that i am not, and have not been, suicidal.  i have kidlets i have to care for and simply cannot imagine leaving them behind.  should things become an issue, i will make the blog private and i don't want to do that.

as i covered with my therapist the first week, there appears to be a great deal many issues i need to work through:  childhood, pregnancy issues, trust & control issues, parenting issues, relationship issues, and whatever else comes bubbling up.  i wrote this post to express myself in what i consider my space and to work on opening up to others.  i am who i am, take it or leave it.  but i really don't want people to leave it.  i already have abandonment issues apparently, let's not add more.  :)   (see, there i go with the jokes cuz this is uncomfortable)

i am going to end each of these with a positive about myself.  and here is tonight's:  while i do not share my heart easily, i am a person with a big heart who is compassionate about those in need, whatever the need may be.

Fear and Change

*note - this post is not for the faint of heart.*

Things became clearer this evening and although I am not at the peak yet, I'm ready (and scared shitless) to lay it all out there.  A friend shared with me a quote she heard the other day, "Be honest with yourself why you really eat."  And the being honest part is the total rub.  I can tell you that I eat because 1. I'm hungry  2. I'm an emotional eater 3. Because I'm bored.  Since I heard that phrase, it's been turning over and over inside my head.  And tonight as I watched another episode of EM: Weight Loss Edition and several themes in that young lady's life ran parallel to mine, the phrase kept repeating.  I have been trying very hard to not eat in the evenings as that is my "snacky" time.  But tonight I became edgy and ran upstairs to get some chips & dip.  I munched for about 5 minutes and felt sick to my stomach as I truthfully faced what emotions were really coursing through my body.  I took the snacks back upstairs and came back down.  And I cried.  I watched this young woman face the self doubt and loathing that I feel deep inside that I try hard not to let out.  I saw this beautiful child face the pain of having to be the grown-up in a parent/child relationship and it hit home for me.  A daughter with an absent father and as she tried to accept the less than perfect life and parent/child relationship, I watched as she took control of her life and accepted that she cannot change him and it is okay to not have a close relationship.  I saw a girl who had turned to food to comfort herself, to drown her feelings, and to create this self protective cocoon around herself by being 'big.'  I saw so much of myself.  And for the first time I accepted and welcomed the flood of emotions.  I didn't just stuff them.  And it fucking scares me to death.

I get that we all have our lot in life and we all deal with it how we deal with it.  I've always felt as if I do an okay job of dealing with it.  Except if I'm being honest with myself (and since that is the name of the game for this post), I am a stuffer.  I stuff the emotions and put on the happy face.  I do not want others to see what I am feeling or fearing.  And at times it has made me feel as if I am void inside.  True joy and happiness has not been felt on a regular basis.

I have always accepted the fact that my sperm donor is a piece of shit.  I knew from little on that my biological father did not want to be a part of my life and it was better off that way.  I know he was into drugs and that I have several half siblings in this world through him.  It never really bothered me much as a child, to be honest.  It was just how my life was.  I remember a time where my cousins and I had our photos taken and when the newspaper guy asked for our parents names, my cousin replied that I didn't have a dad.  It is my earliest memory where I can recall feeling that perhaps my life was "different."  My dad (step-dad) came into our lives when I was 11 and it changed our lives.  However because of my age and where I was at, I really did not become comfortable calling him my dad until I was an adult, and didn't do so in his presence until the last few years.  There have been times over the years that I have felt resentful that my sperm donor chose to be a douchebag.  I do not feel a huge loss (that I can tell) not having him in my life.  It does feel awkward that I have this other biological family in the area and as far as I know, they are just fine with ignoring the result of a night in which their son got his teenage girlfriend drunk and pregnant.  What I do have issues with is the information that has come my way throughout the years.  I was around 10/12yo when I learned what his name was.  Years later, I was told that when my grandparents attempted to take him to court for child support/etc, things came out in court that cause(d) my mom to have her own issues.  My grandparents apparently dropped the court thing after that.  And that makes me angry.  I can understand why they did it.  I can say I'm happy I did not have to be one of those kids who had to shuffle back and forth, but it still makes me angry.  And over time, I've just accepted that it's okay to be angry about it.  There are several other childhood issues that make me angry or sad.  Things that I think I have worked to accept, but also accepted that I can feel angry about them.  None of those things have ever been whispered to my mother.  I just cannot do it. 


I have made choices in my life that are not for everyone.  That is the beauty of choice, isn't it.  I grew up with a strong perfectionist mindset and while I do not display that outwardly in my daily life, if I am being 100% honest, it still has a hold of me.  I do not feel worthy.  I have chosen to take comfort in food and wrapping myself in a layer of fat, knowing that I do not like the way I look, but so fucking scared to take down the walls.  They are there to keep people away.  There is a reason I don't allow people to get too close to me.  I am working on loving myself, but the positive self talk is a struggle most times.  Allowing others to love me.  Boy, that is tough at times.  It makes me uncomfortable to have the praise of others, even though I'm striving to do almost everything they want me to do or expect me to do.  Learning to accept that I am who I am and if someone does not like me or my choices, tough shit for them.  If they cannot accept me, it truly is there loss.  I have positive things to give others.  I know it in my heart.  And letting the real me shine through and taking pride in myself has allowed me to become a stronger woman.  A woman who is accepting and proud of her convictions (most of the time).

There are so many things I want to say and I never say them.  The reasons for not saying them are usually because I do not want to bring pain or sadness to another, yet I have no problem shouldering the experience myself.  There have been so many blog posts I've wanted to write but didn't because I was too scared.  Scared that I might offend someone or that someone close to me might think less of me after reading something.  Self censorship seemed easier.  But stifling oneself is a tragedy.  And it's one that I can no longer live with.  I can say (with some trepidation) that if you do not like what I have to say, then don't read.  I don't write for others, I'm writing for myself.  Something I have not done for a long, long time. In the last year, I have really been struggling to discover who I truly am and what makes me happy.  And in that process, it is difficult to be truthful that perhaps things are not the way you planned them to be.   To question what one can change and what one can accept in your life.  To know that outcomes of changes can have large impacts on those around you. 

It is time.  Time for me to take charge of my life and make it be everything I want and more.  To allow myself to feel without stuffing my face.  It is okay that I am scared to lose weight and be healthier, but that does not mean that I allow the fear to become failure.  That it is not impossible to commit to myself and my health.  Change is some scary shit, but it is so powerful and necessary at times.  In EM:WLE, Chris talks about how the year long process is a transformation.  And each episode I have watched has been awe-inspiring.  However, tonight's show took it to a whole new level for me and for that I am thankful.

“Your journey has molded you for your greater good, and it was exactly what it need to be.   Don't think that you've lost time. It took each and every situation you have encountered to bring you to the now. 

And now is right on time.”  ~Asha Tyson

The only way of finding the limits of the possible is by going beyond them into the impossible.
Arthur C. Clarke

A New Life

It's been one month.  One month since A has been on her medication.  Let me preface this post by stating that medications are not for everyone.  I can only speak to our experience and from our standpoint, medication for our child's anxiety issues has been a lifesaver.

Deciding to have your child medicated is not an easy decision.  It is one we made after much thought, months of therapy (which continues), and in consultation with a child pyschiatrist.  I was resistant to the idea for a long time.  And after a while I became more open to the idea.  After day in and day out fighting with her or her worries, not knowing what you say could cause her to explode, not sure if your child is feeling okay about herself today or if she wants to hurt herself.  It was exhausting.  And lonely.  I have shared some of our experience here, but not a great deal.  Many people who know A have no idea how far her worries go or ever see the "real" thing.  It took the experiences of others in similar situations, careful thought, and loads of discussion to make the decision.

And it was one of the best decisions we've ever made.  She is a different A.  In a great way.  I was intensely worried that she would be zoned out or changed in a bad way by the meds.  She's not.  It allows her to have her real self shine through.  The worries don't get in the way.  She's happy, not bogged down by intense emotions, and is able to handle talking with mom & dad without someone melting down.  Rather than having daily, or almost daily, incidents to deal with; we have once in a while incidents.  She still does have worries, still has self-esteem issues, still feels strongly about things.  But she can do so without having this extra "thing" tagging along.  That is the best way I can think to word it.  The "thing" does not control life anymore. 

The Dr. indicated she'd be on the meds for approximately 6 months and then we will wean her off to see where she's at.  She may need them for only 6 months, 1 year, a couple years, or perhaps forever.  We simply do not know what will happen as she develops into her pre-teen, teen, and adult years.  The hope is that if things can re-wire themselves she won't need meds long-term, but if she does, so be it.   As she grows, she can utilize and understand more tools to help herself.  We continue to use cognitive methods and tools to help her, and will continue to do so.

I love that little girl.  Fiercely.  And I know in my heart we made the right choice for her. 

Bird on a Wire

I am so frustrated.  And I do not know what to do.  My abilities as a parent are 100% failing me.  And I feel like a bird on a wire.  I am precariously perched on a small ledge and if I shift too far one way or the other, the fall has the potential of devastating consequences.  However, I am attempting to remain stalwart and strong, albeit ready to take flight.

Ari has tried many activities....T-ball, tennis, tae kwan do, swimming, and now Brownies.  T-ball was a nightmare.  And is when we discovered activities that has her focusing more on individuality rather than a full team is better for her psyche.  She can do team approach somewhat, however the counselor warned that she feels responsible for a loss if she feels she made the slightest mistake.  Okay, no "team" sports.  She tried tae kwan do over the summer the other year and was excellent at it.  J signed her up for the remainder of the year and quite frankly, ended up pushing her too hard and she stopped wanting to go.  Talk of tournaments and a rigorous 3 times a week schedule was too much for her.  Tennis was a 6 week program at school.  She made it two weeks.  Swimming is the only thing that has stuck for her and she is quite good.  It challenges her  and yet allows her to interact with other kids at the same level.

And then she wanted to join Brownies this year.  She was so excited, couldn't wait to get her sash and earn badges.  And here we are, the second week in a row, that she doesn't want to go.  She states she has no fun at Brownies and the meetings are too long.  I let her skip last week as many of the girls do not attend each and every meeting.  However, the December and January meetings were canceled due to weather.  She's sold the cookies and had fun.  But she says she's done now.  So, in a fit of anger, I told her if she didn't go today (touring the fire dept at which she's been too before) then after she gets her cookies, she's done.  It's not fair to the other participants if she isn't willing to give her best towards it.

I'm on the fence about forcing my children to attend something they signed up for.  Part of me dictates that if you sign up for something you follow it through.  The other part of me knows how she is and that it will be a disaster if we force her.  I don't know what lesson to teach.  That you follow through or that it's okay to quit?  Can I teach her both?  That if you try something and don't like it, try something else and keep trying until you find your "thing?"  Or that you sign the line (and mom & dad invest $ into), you keep going whether you like it or not.

She sits here now asking me to play Pokemon with her.  I cannot and will not.  This is the time that she is to be at Brownies and I will not be spending the time playing a game with her.  Not sure which lesson I'm teaching at this point, but it feels right.  Of course, it has led to her crying and hitting herself, screaming "I'm so stupid" and "I"m no good at anything."   I feel desperate to fix her.  To tell her she is worthy and have her completely believe me.  I don't know how to best help my child today.  I am struggling and frustrated.  My patience feels as if it's nearing empty and I do not not how to replenish it.  I am so tired of the struggle and I do not know what to do next to best help her.  Is this just her personality?  Or is something else going on?  I know she will always struggle with perfectionism, worries, and self-esteem.  I just want her to be the best Ari that she can be, that's my job as her mother.  Right now, I am at a loss at how to do so.

Sometimes words fail me

My dearest A,

You are such a bright shining star in our lives.  We have been through so much with you in your 7 years, and I can only imagine what's in store in the upcoming years.

You are special, unique, and amazing.  And there are times that words fail me when I want to describe the very essence of you.  Because you truly are that special.

We have "official" news on you.  Something that we already pretty much knew, but it helped to have someone with that PhD behind their name confirm it.  And much to my relief, no diagnosis of bipolar or related disorder.  The doctor told us yesterday these words, "You have a highly intelligent little girl.  Who happens to be a perfectionist.  And has anxiety."

Like I said, we already knew that.  But this gives us direction.  Direction on what to do to help you, how to help us while we help you.  My major goal as a parent is to assist you and your brother be the best "you" you can be.  Quirks and all.  Dr. M made the comment that you are too smart for your own good, and that is so true.  You are very curious and that sometimes leads you to gain knowledge of something that you fail to fully comprehend and then you become anxious.  And it's okay.  We're here to help you.  You have anxiety.  You are often fearful and worried and many times it's about things that we do not understand.  I promise to do better when helping you, to listen fully, to console you when you need it, and to encourage you to make mistakes and celebrate your quirks.

I love you, worries and all.

Love mom