I'm fine.

I'm sorry for complaining so much.

I can only imagine how annoying it is, and no one needs to hear complaints all day. There is too much negativity in life as it is. So, I'm apologizing right now.

Things are hard sometimes. Most of the time. But that doesn't mean I don't have a WHOLE lot to be grateful for! I found my soulmate so early in life. He's my greatest joy. I get to spend every day with him. I have a largely supportive family. I'm looking forward to volunteering soon. I want to sign up for an ambulance ride-along. I'm in school. I'm gonna get a bunch of animals someday. I'll surround myself with them! I live in a pretty nice apartment and I don't have to worry about money too much, thanks to my husband. We an afford to eat well. We have running water and electricity.

Things are great, I'm just sick. I'm so sick and it's embarrassing to admit that, even though I try to be open about it for the sake of fighting stigmas.

Everyone has their struggles. I'm just not the best at handling mine. Everything will be alright.

Forthcoming

I have to be more forthcoming about my limitations.

I've said it before, but part of the deal with social phobia (according to NIMH) is "having a hard time making and keeping friends". NAMI puts it in a similar way: "An intense fear of social situations that leads to difficulties with personal relationships".

People must think I'm so flake-y. I thought I could do it. A new girl in the ward - very kind and fun by all accounts - has tried to hang out with me twice now. I keep saying yeah, but I freak out last minute. It's not that I'm trying to lie, I'm trying to push myself out of my comfort zone so I can make progress and get over this. I'm trying to please people, perhaps?

And that's why I'm awake at this ungodly hour - about to throw up, headache already in the early stages, close to tears.

I'm so frustrated with myself. And here are the tears.

Everything is a mess. I don't know how else to put it. I'm so frustrated with being controlled by this. By everything. Is it so much to ask to just be myself? It's as normal as breathing for everyone else.

I'm trying to figure out why I'm like this. And I think most of it was physical first and then I just felt more comfortable away from triggers, so I developed an aversion to people. Am I scared of being embarrassed - like most sites suggest/state? I don't think so. I think for me it was just more trying to keep my discomfort from showing. If people are as empathetic as I am, they'll know when I'm uncomfortable. And I think that drives people away. And maybe I'm just tired of that? Maybe I'm completely bonkers.

I don't know why it happens. I don't know why it's STILL so scary for me. I feel so stupid right now. And pathetic. And hopeless. And useless. And horrible. I just ditched someone 6 hours before we were supposed to hang out! How can I do anything like this? How can I be an employee or a mother like this? No freaking way.

Anyway, I figure I should just seem less flake-y and more b*tch-y to people by saying "no" flat out rather than saying yes and then ditching them. This is just wrong and mean.

One more thing...

I feel like I should explain why I'm so happy about volunteer training.

In my special parchment (as I've probably already mentioned a million times) it says basically that service will bring me joy.

That doesn't seem significant unless you read/heard the rest of my special parchment. That was the only mention of joy in the midst of warnings. All these warnings about how many trials I'm going to go through. Trials this, trials that. Three warnings of staying true to the gospel and how that will help me through my trials. The promise (one of the best promises) that Christ will be with me through all trials if I call on Him. What a blessing!

There was also a bit about what I'm going to do in life. Meeting Stephen, becoming a mother (and experiencing the joys and disappointments thereof), working with young women, being sealed. and God knowing me as a "choice and favored daughter" with a "pure heart and steadfastness to the gospel". < You can tell I'm super-proud of/SO happy about that!

Anyway, with ALL of that, the only mention of the word JOY or even happiness without the tagline of something bad, was that I will experience true joy in the service of others.

So this is really big for me. To finally do something worthwhile. To stop focusing on myself and my selfish woes and do something proactive...I'm just ecstatic.

So seriously, thank you for your prayers. It's gonna be amazing!

Your prayers worked!

My teacher was super cool with me missing two classes. In fact, he didn't even ask why. So I'm freaking STOKED to say that I'm gonna train next month to be a volunteer at the CWCIC! This is awesome. I'm extremely excited - in case you couldn't tell.

I slept through class today. Ugh. We were going to hear from a guest speaker about Trolly Square. He orchestrated police operations. It was gonna be awesome. And he probably knows my forensic science investigations teacher!

So I'm a little sad. Very frustrated with myself.

But I also splurged on a mall trip yesterday. I don't go to the mall, but I had some time before class, so I was like: MALL! I figured I'd get an outfit for Stephen (he really wants me to get into steampunk/goth-ish looks). So I went to Hot Topic.

I forget how much I love Hot Topic. The clothes are okay and all (sometimes very cool), but the staff are my people. Kinda. Bus people are my people, but these people are very kind and I like them. I get good nostalgia going there. Anyway, I saw some cute things here and there, but then I saw this dress and I HAD to have it. Preferably, it would've been an XXL, but they only had XL. I tried it on anyway. It's a little tight in a place I wouldn't like it to be tight at, but otherwise I love it. I felt good in that dress.

It's like What Not to Wear when you come out and Stacey and Clinton are all happy for you and you feel great. That's how I felt. I don't remember clothes ever doing that for me. So this was neat. I got a couple of other things from that store too, but I think I found my style. I think Stephen was right. I like black. It's simple, pretty easy to match, and it hides PKD belly. Not that I really need that now, but maybe someday.

So, I'm looking forward to future mall trips for the first time ever.

Anyway, I feel much better today than I did yesterday. Thank you!

I went to church for the entire thing! So proud. It was quite alright. Almost as soon as I changed out of my clothes, I fell asleep. Now my sleeping schedule is even more messed up, but I guess it was worth it.

My life right now is just a struggle with myself.

I don't have the energy to explain every detail. You've heard it all before. I'm just frustrated with myself and my limitations. I'm frustrated that I don't have as much energy as most people my age. I don't have the resilience or the fortitude. Heck, a new girl in the ward wants to hang out with me on Friday and I'm sitting here crying because I'm so scared. Or maybe because I'm so suspicious as to why a girl like her (pretty and fun) would want to hang out with me? And I feel ridiculous for it.

It's ruining my life. I'm so mad that I've lived 23 years on this planet and what do I have to show for it?! My viola is gone. I have no piano. I have no animals to take care of. I'm unsure if I can even finish school at this point, and it's becoming quite clear I may never hold a steady job. I'm just so done being trapped in this body with this brain!

And I'm sure I missed an appointment with John, but I don't even care. I don't think he, or anyone else for that matter, can help me. I don't think I'll ever get better. I really worry I'm going to waste my entire life suffering by myself.

There is some shred of great news: I contacted a local shelter for women and children in crisis and they're training volunteers next month. I'm really excited for it! I'd miss two sociology classes during the training, but I think it would be SO worth it! Seriously, other than the missed classes, I see no downside and plenty of benefits.

I can do something worthwhile in my life!!!!!!!!! Service!! I can possibly gain experience with victims, I can get a resume booster, internship opportunities, and I can complete an extra credit assignment for my tech class. Who knows what else? How can I turn this down? No way.

So, I'm going to talk to my teacher tonight to see what he thinks. I doubt he'd discourage me from it. His main job is working in juvenile justice. But Imma check anyway.

Pray for me (after you pray for everyone who needs it more).

Restraint

It has taken me a long time to realize this, but my anxiety is the biggest restraint in my life. By far, it's my worst enemy.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

On my last visit with John, as frustrating as it was, there was something he pointed out that I hadn't thought of before. While describing the relief my medication brings (especially as far as the physical symptoms go), I noted that I still struggle with speaking. He asked when that started. 

I honestly don't remember. When I was little, it wasn't a problem. As a teenager, it wasn't a problem - even though I was anxious and depressed then. It was alarming. That just made it real to me that this has only gotten worse. 

I've always worried about things. When I was little, I worried about the weather. I worried so much I watched the weather channel all the time. I was especially worried about tornadoes (in UTAH!). I worried about sleeping on the top level of the house in case of a tornado or fire, but then when I slept in the basement, I worried about earthquakes. I eventually settled for the basement (since that is the last place intruders would look), but I kept my bed in the middle of the room so the walls had less of a chance of crushing me instantly. At least, that's how my brain thought it would go down. 

My worries changed as I got older. I became less neurotic (thinking I was being punished when it was windy and that it would only rain when I made God cry) and more realistic (the gas crisis, impending water wars, nuclear weapons, my health, and global warming) as far as "regular fears" went. 

But most of my fear quickly became socially-centered. I just remember feeling anxious for the first time in late middle school and it never went away. Things quickly became physical. I'd start getting a pounding chest and sweaty palms. Often I'd go home with headaches. For the later years in high school, my throat would close up, making my voice higher. I HATED that!!! Eventually, it got to the point where I could hardly speak at times. I'd start blushing when a teacher called on me - even when I knew what I was talking about!

And those are just the physical symptoms. Even with amazing medication, my anxiety is still to the point where I just don't want to go outside anymore. I missed about a month's worth of school last semester. I still get headaches. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. At least an enemy who has any ambition to function properly in the real world, make and keep any friends, or to have a meaningful job. It's just hard and exhausting. Like you have a unique, interesting, whatever person inside of you and you can't ever let them out. No one can see the real you. You can't even pretend to be a normal person because your body is betraying you.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

I don't know. It's been hard lately. I keep thinking of joining the workforce and I'm actually looking at jobs, but I just can't see myself working at all. Most of the time it's because I'd have to testify in court. Other times because I'd have to deal with people at some point. It's so incredibly scary. I always wanted to be something. I want a job. I want to be a contributor to a better world.

Stephen and I would surely be sealed by now if I wasn't so afraid to go to church. It's not their fault. We're taught to be excited and encouraging when people come to church. So, when I actually do attend, it's always been awhile and everyone wants to fellowship us and everything. I feel pressure to do normal-people things like hanging out, chatting, talking about weeks, and having conversations that don't suck. It's hard.

And very recently I've thought of becoming an EMT again. I've visited this idea many times along the road as a complimentary or sole profession. I've just always dismissed it because...people. But I love people. I want to help. I especially am drawn to natural disasters. I'm a hands-on learner. I can eventually do death investigation with it. It's perfect!....except people. 

I want to be sealed. I want to have a stable job that I love and that makes a difference. 

I can't do that by running away. If it takes trying every dang medication, I'll grumpily go along with it because I deserve to be happy, if only while I'm healthy enough to work. Church will start in 2 hours. I'm going to be there. I'm going to be there for as much as I can stay awake for.

My viola

I'm feeling sentimental about my viola for some reason (maybe because I'm listening to some viola-heavy Shostakovich), so I'm going to tell you the story of my viola.

It started in 6th grade. At my elementary school, everyone was to play an instrument in either band, orchestra, or choir. I'd always fancied playing the fiddle - back when I thought the fiddle was it's own instrument and not a style of music. So, when this opportunity arrived, I signed up for orchestra without hesitation.

On my first day of orchestra, I discovered a friend of mine there, so I sat next to her. The conductor began going down the rows of students, asking which instrument they were going to play. "Violin, violin, violin, cello, violin, cello, violin, etc." Wow. I guess what I wanted was really popular. Then my friend said: "Viola." and I was like what is a viola?! He then called on me and, without thinking, I replied: "Viola."

It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

I love the viola. I couldn't have found a better instrument. I'd always naturally picked out the harmonic lines in music anyway. My fingers weren't fast enough, and my music-reading ability not good enough, to play the violin (in fact, it was probably easier for me to read the viola clef -yes, it has it's OWN clef - because I wasn't used to reading the typical clefs). So I'm more than happy I ditched that popsicle stand before I wasted any time in it. Turns out, I had an amazing viola vibrato. The viola was just...magic. I truly enjoyed playing. Orchestra was largely the only class I looked forward to in elementary, middle, and high school (I still loved it in college, but I had other cool classes by then).

The viola was my ticket to social interaction. In fact, it lead me to my most memorable high school experiences and it lead me to my college friends. My very first date was with the 1st chair cellist. I tried out for a very prestigious teacher in Provo, and she accepted me! I learned from other amazing professionals. I recorded. I went to Disneyland and had my first romantic encounter with a boy who is now my husband. I played in the pit orchestra for two different plays in high school. I got to play in the Ephraim community orchestra's Messiah concert. I played the viola in a trio in a college concert. All this and many other things. I just had a blast.

But life happens.

After what happened between me and my husband's ex, it only brought back bad memories and I deteriorated as a player. She married a violist I'd had a long history with. Mostly I just fancied him a lot, but we also played together in orchestra. It would always remind me of them when I picked it up. Like it was poisonous now. What used to bring me joy and relief only brought heartache.

I guess it was good I'd distanced myself from it because, in the winter of 2013, we were flat broke and starving. The rest of my family had fallen on hard times and forget his family, so we had as much help as they could give, but we were hungry a lot.

I made the decision to sell my viola. It was hard even then because I had so much value in it. My viola had scars and dents and I gave her every one of them. There was a story behind each - usually of negligence. But her value was nothing to other people. Those scars and dents and blemishes made her worth, in the end, about $250 or something. We paid at least $2,000 for her when we bought her new when I was 16. In all honesty, she was worth more than $250, even to people who don't care about her. Evah Pirazzi strings, Jade rosin, Kun shoulder rest, unique chin rest, nice tuning pins (on all strings)...she was beautiful!

She deserved better. I miss her. I regret it immensely, but we were fed for another few weeks and I didn't have to have another reminder of the worst event in my life thus far.

I met someone.

Something weird happened today.

Well, a couple of things. Firstly, I volunteered to stay after Criminal Investigations class to grade papers. I'm not sure why. I thought it might be good exercise to speak with people. And if I'm going to be comfortable speaking to anyone, it would be a cop. So I figured T.A.ing would give me that opportunity.

I wasn't sure about it. In fact, I'd walked out of the classroom and came back because I was scared. I had nothing to be scared of. In fact, I met a new friend.

Well, maybe not friend yet, but definitely someone I like.

She also volunteered to T.A. There was a lot to grade, so we were both welcomed. There was another girl in the classroom. As we were getting set up to grade, she fainted. Fell right over onto the ground. I don't remember ever seeing something like that in real life, but my first instinct was to run to her. I had to sequester that, because my cop teacher and the other T.A. (who I would later learn was a paramedic) were already there. Three people seemed like too much.

Anyway, she recovered quickly, and we got onto grading. The other T.A. I will call B. For some absolutely inexplicable reason, I found her extremely easy to talk to. She put me at ease, and I was also able to talk pretty clearly with my teacher. It was amazing to me that I could formulate complete sentences, and I was even audible. She's like a magician. She didn't even say that much either, but she was so open and matter-of-fact. It was nice.

I wish more people were as open as she is.

Anyway, we left the classroom together and I asked her about the other student. They've apparently already divulged to each other that they have PTSD. Apparently, the other student faints often because her anxiety is bad enough to make it so she can't even breathe. My anxiety is BAD, but I can't imagine it making me faint. I guess I've come close, but no way.

We started talking about B's PTSD. She was so open about it. I knew she had it before she told me. She's a veteran, and she was talking about how she had her pills in a Mon-Sun container in her car and she was put in custody for it. *If you didn't know, it's illegal to have pills outside of the prescription bottle in your car.* So...she probably takes a ton of pills to necessitate the need for that container, and she is a female veteran. Hello! A first grader could figure this out.

Anyway, my point is that she's been open about it, but she was talking to me personally about it. Someone she just barely met! She wasn't self-diagnosed, she had not yet used it as an excuse (and I doubt she ever would). I could tell, and I just trust the heck out of her anyway. I don't even know her!

I'm telling you, she's magic! And I hope she never sees this because she will be scared (anyone would), but I really like her. I look forward to seeing her again - as much as you can when you're me.

And my teacher was only a little nerve-wracking. I caught myself inching away when he turned his attention to me. Is it normal to stand really close to someone when you talk to them? I'm not sure, I hope I didn't hurt his feelings. I just...moved away. I'm sure he noticed.

Ahhh...social interaction. 23 years on this earth and it's still a mystery to me.

Dream Interpretation

Because why the heck not?

What I found actually makes a lot of sense.

Orchestra: 

"The complexity and beauty of the orchestra is almost universally appreciated. Even among those who do not like classical music, it is accepted that the orchestra is a very sophisticated musical machine. Dreams of being in the orchestra may reflect the feeling that you are in a place of either harmony, or profound disharmony, in relation to the world. There may be a facet of your life in which you are feeling a tremendous amount of performance anxiety. If the orchestra has a familiar conductor (a co-worker or boss, a family member, an acquaintance, etc.), the relationship between you and the conductor may reveal the area of anxiety."

Dead Kittens:

"If you have a dream in which you see dead kittens it means that you are going to have to worry about your innocence dying. Kittens are known for being the most innocent of all animals. They are nice and clean and they are thought to have no negative emotions (regardless of whether this assumption is true or not at all). This is why they are seen as a symbol of innocence. If you have a dream in which you are surrounded by dead kittens it means that you need to worry about the fact that your innocence is leaving you."
More:http://www.gotohoroscope.com/txt/dream-dictionary-dead-kittens.html

Chasing: 

"Psychologists tend to think that “chase dreams” occur when we are unable to cope with our fears and have trouble facing reality."

More:http://www.gotohoroscope.com/txt/dream-dictionary-dead-cat.html

Befriending an "Enemy": 

To dream of making up with an enemy symbolizes the need to resolve an inner conflict within yourself.

So yeah. I feel surprisingly vulnerable posting these, but they do make sense. And there is nothing to worry about. It seems I can't blame my nightmares on anything but my inability to jive with life. I don't see that changing anytime soon, but maybe now that I acknowledge the issues, my brain will stop sending me messages. Or maybe dream interpretation is for the birds. 

More thoughts

I have SO much. I am going to school, the state is largely paying for it, we just got a big bed (no more falling off the twin!), I live in a very nice apartment complex, I have food, running water, I don't have to worry about money too much, only a couple of medical bills to pay and that's about it.

I really do have so much and I do nothing to earn it.

Makes me feel like an ungrateful slob for not being happier than I am, but I know depression is more than that. Maybe this is God's way of making my life easier. I feel like I already have enough problems with my body and the organs inside of it, why should things outside of it be difficult?

They're not. And I'm so grateful for that. I have a very easy life right now.

I'm still getting nightmares. They just don't seem to stop - no matter what I eat, when I sleep, etc. And they consist of the same things over and over. For instance, my latest dream was, yet again, involving orchestra. Yet again was I in the back of my section. Yet again it involved my orchestra conductor and my husband's ex. Only I don't remember her being in it, it was her husband (which makes sense because I did play in orchestra with him in high school).

This time, I could play beautifully. I had my amazing vibrato and everything else. Everything was just as good as I was at my best. I even played on the way to my chair "warming up" and all. But, when I sat down, although there was music, I couldn't find the right page. I began to panic and asked what piece we were playing. Her husband turned around a little and told me who it was composed by, so I started looking for a name. I couldn't find anything. The orchestra began to play, and I hurriedly checked the other stands' page numbers. I couldn't find it, so I couldn't play most of the piece.

And then there was another dream about kittens and dead kittens and cats and something trying to kill me. The usual.

I don't know what more I can do.

Explanation

Well, maybe I was going crazy because, apparently, my period was on it's way. It's here now.

I'm not sure if women are supposed to be more "crazy" during periods or before, but I personally feel better now. Despite the horrendous back pain and constant, uncontrollable bleeding for 7 days, my bowels are working at max. It's amazing! I love periods. Also, since I'm not on birth control, it's a welcome sign that I've not made a terrible mistake.

Anyway, that was probably WAY more than anyone needed to know.

But my original point was that I feel way better now. But now that I'm in my right mind, I feel like the gabapentin isn't working as well anymore. My memory is being affected. I hate that. It's not as bad as it was with clonazepam, but it's getting bad. I'm just as dizzy, but less nauseated than when I started...

I don't know. I want to start taking more to see if it will still help. I'm so dang tired of the medication search. I don't think anything tolerable will work for me.

And I'm regressing, weirdly enough.

I don't even want to see John anymore. Or the psychiatric NP. I don't want to see anyone. I guess I'm happier living alone, but I'm not content. I still want to live a meaningful life helping people, but I'm not sure I can even work a regular job anymore. I have no desire to work a Mcjob and probably not enough energy to work a good one.

I'M SO TIRED. All the time! I sleep for 12 hours and I'm still tired. I'm exhausted!

Maybe it's because I get dizzy. Maybe it's because of the depression. Maybe it's the anxiety coming back. Maybe I'm being ridiculous. Maybe I'm just tired of being hurt all the time and the problems are deeper than I thought? I'm definitely less resilient than the average person.

Oh yeah, and today I officially had hypertension (135/91). I guess I should check it more often now, but it's usually only pre-hypertensive. It's only a matter of time I guess. For now, I can try changing my diet and exercise. It should help.

Anyway, sorry for the brain throw-up. Just getting my thoughts out.

I'm really distressed.

Can  you tell?

I've been asking for extra cheese on everything. I can't sleep without the TV or I get nightmares. I missed a class today. The second week into school, I've already missed a class! I slept through it but, if I was awake for it, I still wouldn't have gone.

It's incredibly hard to work toward a goal when you just don't care about anything anymore.

They say a pretty big giveaway for depression is not enjoying activities you once enjoyed. If what's happening to me is depression-related, then they minimalize the heck out of it. I don't care about anything.

Well, I still love animals but, for instance, I was playing with my friend's kittens one day. KITTENS. I was so stoked out of my mind! When I finally got to play with them, it was like...nothing. I was amused and all, and I loved them, but they didn't make me happy anymore. What the heck?

Anyway, the point in sharing that is that I don't even get much joy from animals anymore. I love animals! So...if the things I love are that affected, think of things I'm passionate about. Things I like. They don't stand a chance! And they haven't.

I just know I'm living a meaningless life. I'm not helping anyone. I'm not happy. All I can do is ask God to be patient with me and continue to thank Him for all that I have, because I certainly don't deserve any of it.

I just can't picture me holding a steady job if it involves any interaction with people. Sure, I'm not scared of them anymore, but they're so incredibly draining, confusing, and frustrating (and great and beautiful and wonderful, but I can't handle them!). I can't even explain it.

And that's the most frustrating thing. I can't explain it. And, of course, it's all in my brain, so it may as well not exist. That's how everyone else seems to view it. "Don't let things define you" as well-meaning as everyone is when they say that (usually accompanied by a story about someone who had way more disabilities and issues than me), it automatically makes it look like I'm not trying enough. Those people...the blind ones who climb Mt.Everest, the bum-legs who compete in the olympics, the dyscalculia kids who eventually become math whizes...they make me look bad.

My success is getting out of bed each day. Getting the dishes done. I'M IN SCHOOL (that's really all I have going for me). A pharmacist, a medical professional, was very impressed with that. I can hardly make it to school, and I can hardly earn passing grades, but I'm doing it. I am trying. I'm trying so hard and it's not enough - I'm not doing enough - because I'm not a typical success story.

It's very frustrating to say: "I want to do this, but I don't want to testify in court", "I worry about the math", or "I worry about lifting bodies." and get eye-rolls. It's just eye rolls and maybe a pep-talk about aforementioned people who make me look bad.

Those are legitimate concerns. I'm having a hard time in the most entry-level math class UVU offers. I have a dang official, professional diagnosis of SOCIAL PHOBIA. And have you heard that I have PKD yet? FYI: I also have an official diagnosis of major depressive disorder, IBS-C, and I'm heterozygous for a blood clotting disorder. It's not that I'm letting these things (especially mental illness) define me, they really affect my life. It's my brain, for pete's sake! You're telling me to suppress that?!

It's not like I want these! They make me a different person - a person I don't particularly like. It's so hard to keep a job like this. I can hardly keep the friends I have like this, and I'm losing them daily, it seems. I know my health will decline, my body is trying to FREAKING KILL ME!

So why? Why the judgment? Why the lack of understanding? Especially about mental illness?

It's like having this giant monkey on my back, but everyone ignores it and tells me to ignore it too. Yeah, that would be ideal. Even better, it would be nice to get the monkey off my back, but I can't. I'm trying, but...jeez. They just have no idea, and I can't blame them, but I'm so tired of people expecting the same things from me that they expect from a "normal" person.

Well, newsflash, I'm not.

But I'll continue to pretend, because I still have the desire to live a useful, philanthropic life somewhere in here, and I can't do that without education. I just worry I'll waste all of this time and money on something I can't even use because of my health (mental and otherwise).

AND I'M A HOT DANG MESS RIGHT NOW!!

In-laws. Again?

Oh. MY. GOSH.

I never wanted to be here. Growing up, I thought it was really stupid and catty when people would complain about their in-laws. Especially, for some reason, daughter-in-laws about their mother-in-laws. I was determined to never be one of these people.

And yet, it happened.

I totally get it now. I piss them off without even trying. And they don't say anything about it, so I'm left being passive-aggressive'd at until I get the hint and ask them directly. And even then I get some roundabout answer that doesn't even explain it.

For instance, my husband's twin is treated noticeably better than my husband. It's gotten way better as of late, but golly...for awhile there I was beginning to wonder if he was some sorcerer who put spells on people to like him.

Anyway, he got married recently and, in much the same fashion as us, gave everyone short notice. Hell, even shorter notice. Less than a week and many people hadn't even known he was in a relationship. So yeah, it was ridiculous. We actually told people when we got engaged (and got real rings) and we tried to give as much notice as possible - to everyone (even their dad, who was entirely left out of this one).

And what do we get? Well, his mom ditches out entirely on the whole thing -except she made it to the actual wedding, managed to send us an email telling us that we were being horrible, and to tell everyone that we were getting married in the most depressing, non-emotional way. She did later explain that she "just wasn't all that excited about it." so I guess that makes sense. I barely remember her speaking to me on our wedding day. His dad was calling us everyday beforehand to tell Stephen not to do it, his grandma threatened not to come at all because she was not personally invited, and his aunt freaks out at him on our wedding day.

The one apology we did get was from Steve's mom for not going to our bridal shower. Everyone else? Nothing. Not even an explanation. His mom did eventually mention that she felt left out. From what?! I f@#$$& don't know.

And this time around, everyone is ecstatic (or pretends to be in an attempt to rub it in) for again, no explicable reason. I ask my husband's mom and she says: "Maybe it's because he's involving everyone?"

First of all, NO he DIDN'T. Second of all, NOT ONE OF THEM offered to help us. EVER. NOT ONCE. How am I supposed to involve anyone who doesn't want to help?

So yeah, ever since then, it's been a f#$#fest of retardedness. They all expect me to just pretend it didn't happen when I don't even know why it happened.

I can't. I'm still mad and hurt and frustrated. I don't know what the hell I ever did to them. I hardly even spoke around them - for a perfectly logical reason that I couldn't help at the time.

I just can't understand that family. They pride themselves on dumb things like "having a high pain tolerance" (according to everyone, everyone has a high pain tolerance) and "not caring what other people think."  Yet they get offended at NOTHING and say NOTHING about it, so they must care what someone thinks.

I just can't take it anymore. I mean, my husband's mom and I are on speaking terms now, but I just have a really hard time wanting to have anything to do with nearly all of them. They can't even be honest with me about anything. I can't get a clear answer from them. I'm just frustrated to my whit's end. What was the original problem? The reason most of them decided to collectively ruin it for me? I don't know. I'll never know. I can never get my wedding back. It's so pathetic because I still cry about it (2 years later!!!) and I bet it never crosses any of their minds. I just can't.

I can't I can't I can't I can't. I can't do it anymore.

Hot Mess

Today, much like most other days, I was a very hot mess.

It was hard for me. I was really looking forward to talking with John. I had to get up early for my 2pm appointment with him, but I was excited to get some things figured out. I even brought my handy dandy John Journal.

I didn't even open it. I was too nervous and embarrassed to whip it out. Like everything I wanted to talk about was too deep somehow. We started out by discussing how my Christmas went. It was something I was dreading, and he remembered. He asked about my in-law situation. He seemed to always remember strange details about what I'd said. But this time, those were basically the only things he remembered about me.

He gave me advice about jobs, which I appreciated. He told me to talk to the psychiatric NP about my medications again "only be upfront about it". Which I was sure I had been, but I'll try harder? But then he asked what I wanted to talk about again. And he told me I should start an exercise program. I told him I have started exercising, and it was like it didn't even register. He continued to say that it was proven to be effective in people with mild to moderate depression.

HOLD UP. "Is my depression mild to moderate?" Because he made it sound very serious.I suddenly felt completely invalidated. How in the world are so many people with depression even alive if mine is only mild? He replied: "To be honest, I've forgotten. I'll go get your chart."

It's moderate to severe. Well, he said severe at first and said: "Well, I shouldn't say severe, you aren't hospitalized, but it is high. We should probably make another appointment then."

This is the first time this has happened, so maybe I'm getting ahead of myself, but I felt like he was not listening to me at all. Not at all. I was so incredibly disappointed. I felt like he wanted me out of there as soon as possible. I felt so useless and even abandoned in a way. I try to hide my depression because I think mopey, complainy, self-diagnosed people already give us a bad name, but just because I smile and try to remain positive doesn't mean it isn't there.

I've also been extremely agitated lately, and I worry the effectiveness of Gabbapentin is wearing off. I have an appointment with the psychiatric NP soon, so I can talk to her about it.

And maybe I'm dissatisfied because I'm learning that what I really want from John is not something he can give. He's a school therapist. He probably just wants to advise people on how to do better in school, talk about things that bother them, and help them get rid of stress or have someone to talk to.

I need someone who can help me fix myself. I'm not this way because I have gnawing problems with my in-laws or the fact that I can't hold a steady job. Those are effects from a cause. The cause being mental illness. The cause of that being....? I don't know. That's what I need someone to figure out and then help me get over so I can be healthy.

I'm not sure that's John's job. Or maybe I've just been doing all of it wrong by not bringing up the deeper problems myself and he's frustrated with me, but he won't say anything because he's nice or he wants me to take us there. I just get nervous. Still.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Anyway, I just feel extremely alone. And I know I chase people away now. I talked way too much about myself today because I don't really know how to converse with people. I thought this was how people communicate - by sharing experiences. They just do everything so effortlessly. When others talk about themselves, 95% of the time, there is nothing selfish or self-interested about it. They just add things about themselves or their own experiences and it works.

When I do it, I feel like: Wow, that's TMI. How was that relevant? Why did I even say that? No one is responding. No one is reacting. They must be turned off by what I said, they didn't hear me, or they're ignoring me. 

People take the ability to communicate for granted. Maybe I do too. I find myself wishing I couldn't speak, because then people wouldn't expect me to. But I can't wish something like that. It's ungrateful.

I'm trying to sift through what is mental illness and what is Vanessa. It's so hard. I feel like I'm a very good person inside, but I'm incapable of showing it. I hate being around people because I'm tired of being hurt. I'm tired of being betrayed, underestimated, judged, bullied. I can't take it anymore.

To be honest, I'd be perfectly happy with my current schedule of staying home all day. I'd be happy to not have to go outside, to see anyone, or to be around anyone. Ever. But my anxiety is keeping me from going to church. It will surely keep me from doing most jobs I'd love to do. It would keep me from living. And I would raise absolutely broken kids if I lived the way I do now.

But I'm worried that maybe what's keeping me from people is not anxiety. Because, even though I'm being treated, I still don't want to leave the house. When I look at people, I notice that I feel nothing from them anymore. I don't even know if I feel anything for them anymore. Like nothing they say means anything - it's all lies. They're empty. Of course this isn't true, and I know that. People are beautiful and wonderful.

But I just don't fit in with them. I can't connect to them, I can't even communicate with them properly. Honestly, they may as well be aliens from another planet. I'm lucky I have what friends I have and I feel like I'm losing them too. I'm ruining what relationships I have with them slowly but surely.

I don't know what to do anymore. I want to give up on trying to assimilate myself into society, but I still have dreams. I still want to live a full life and see what everyone's talking about. And I love people. How could I stay away from them?

Change?

I love Frozen. I like all the songs, I love Kristoff, I love the animation, the detail, Olaf...

But there is one line in the troll song that gets me bugged every dang time.

"We're not saying you can change him because people don't really change." Or something like that. I don't know how to preface this, but it's just plain wrong. People do change.

And it's beautiful! It's so awesome that we all go through things, good and bad, and we come out better, stronger people from it. Most of the time anyway.

That's it today. Just that irritation.

Dream

I had yet another dream about my husband's ex.

It's probably because I was editing my Forgiveness post in Vanessa Loves.

Anyway, I say "dream" because it is. It, of course, occurred directly after a nightmare of sorts where I was being chased and tested by some (or multiple) horrors - I always have the same theme in my nightmares and I always have nightmares. So I must've woken up and gone back to sleep.

It started out on the stage of my old high school. My high school orchestra conductor was there, doing his thing, only there were WAY less people in the orchestra (like...10 people?), and we were in the center of the stage, in regular semi-circle fashion, kinda facing the backdrop. We were clearly practicing for a concert. I was in the back, which I was a little surprised by, but as soon as I started playing my "instrument" I could see why. It was a recorder. A freaking recorder. And I was very bad at it.

As I was fiddling around, trying to get my fingers on the right holes, I noticed someone in front and to the right of me. It was definitely the back of her hair. I can't remember quite what I felt, but I think it was anger...confusion...a need to start playing better so I could make her feel bad about her lack of skills? It was not gonna happen, by the way. I was terrible. But she was actually extremely good at it. She played the recorder too (which dream-brain identified as a flute).

Before long, my teacher ended the session and I barely noticed him speaking to a bass player before he came to me. He was angry and took the recorder from my hands and said I couldn't play in the concert. I think I was sad, but then I noticed her leaving out the door. I followed her.

There was a lot of white snow outside - in the air and on the ground. There were plenty of people doing their own thing. I somehow managed to identify and get into her white van (that looked like a rapist van on the outside, but was a regular mini-van on the inside). I guess I was trying to pin her so we could finally resolve what happened or so I could punch her lights out. One of the two. Hopefully the former.

But she and her husband (who I played viola with and had a crush on in high school in real life) got in, somehow noticed my presence without looking, and started driving toward his parent's house. This is when I tried desperately to get out of the car. Maybe through a window? But that only lasted for a second. As if I was panicking. She and her husband introduced me to her little girl who was sitting in one of the middle seats. She looked just like her mom and she had bangs just like her mom. I said so. I then remembered that we'd already made up and I wasn't mad at her anymore (since my last dream of her).

The next thing I knew, I was at her husband's parents' house. Just the location, actually. It was "her house", but in the real geographic world that was almost directly simulated into my dream, it was the actual location of her husband's parents' house.

It was very sunny and summery there. Which is odd, now that I think of it because it was snowing at the high school. I felt such immense peace as she began talking to me as if we'd always been friends. We didn't even talk about what happened. I learned more about her and her family. Her dream/real life mom was beaten by her dream step-dad. I felt sorry that I hadn't been there for her. I could understand that she was sleeping with everyone (including my boyfriend, whom she knew was dating me) because she had low self-esteem and a role model at home who was unable to get out of an abusive relationship. I felt sorry for her.

She introduced me to one of her other two kids. A baby boy with red hair. And then I remember standing outside in the sun being unshakably happy. I felt resolution and peace.

Then I woke up and, as always, realize it was only a dream.

Every single time she is in my dream, we're friends. I'm happy, she's happy, and we're friends. She'd apparently always had a problem with me, but I wish I knew that. I wish I could've been friends with her. Maybe it would've saved me a lot of grief. I wish we could be friends now.

I almost left it like that. We almost parted on good terms. In fact, we had at one point. I actually met with her bishop one day to tell him about what happened. I didn't believe she was fit to enter the temple and I was deeply concerned she hadn't told her fiance at the time. It would be unjust of her to do that. But it was EFFING crazy and improper for me to do what I did so...hindsight.

Anyway, it turned out that she had been seeing her bishop. He was not told Stephen's name. He was unaware of what happened, but I was just so relieved to hear she was telling him some things. And her husband knew some things.

I was so ashamed of myself that I immediately bought her some roses and took them to her house. She was not there, but I came again another day when she was there. We talked as if we were at least acquaintances. We had a really good time and a really good conversation. Maybe it was a tad awkward. She still didn't apologize, but what happened was good enough. I was so relieved. We actually hugged as I left.

I wish I could have that back. One day, a few months later, I was having another episode of utter devastation about what happened, and I took it out on her. I left angry messages, I demanded apologies, all that stuff. Quickly, I was only able to converse with her husband who denied that she did anything wrong with Stephen and said that we'd just have to believe our own spouses. He then agreed that I'd been wronged (?), but that I didn't need an apology and I'd "get over it".

I ruined everything in that particular moment of weakness and despair. We were on good terms. I had the happiest ending I could've hoped for from her and I blew it. I could've nurtured our budding relationship. Maybe I'm just being psychotic, but I think we could've even been friends. I lost so much when that happened, but I could've gained a friend.

I honestly don't know why I keep having these dreams, but every single time they end in us being friends and I'm indescribably happy. I wish I could have that.

Resolutions.

I hate chronically negative people.
They ruin everything.
It's like they think no one else has gone through things.
Like no one else suffers or has trials.
They're poison.
They're infectious.
I'm done being one of those.
And I'm going to rid myself of those.
I'm going to find the best in everything and everyone.
Even the chronically negative ones, when I am healthy enough to handle them.


I'm going to do more service.
It will make me a happier person.
And I'll do something productive with my life.
Probably the most important thing you can do in life.


I'm going to spend less money.
I live far beyond my means.
I waste too much on things I don't need.
More groceries, less fast food.


I'm going to pass all of my classes.
I'm going to get good grades, in fact.


I'm going to prevent any further heartbreak and disappointment.
I'll do so through love and forgiveness rather than shutting others out.
But I'll be firm when it's necessary.


I'm going to be the best me I can be.