no other options…

no other options…

well there may be more, but enough is enough.

three years without steady meds for my anxiety/bpd/ and narcolepsy. been medicated with antidepressants and benzos for my teenage years through my thirties.

yes, i would run out at times, refills werent my top priority. by day 2 or 3, i’d have a false sense that i was fine sans meds and didn’t need them. i’d never make it a full week tho, due to paranoia, and withdrawals of anger/rage/sadness/etc. so i’d run back and start all over.

as years went on, the constant was always a paxil, zoloft one of the ssri or snri meds. the docs would take away my antianxiety meds due to addiction.(never been in a rehab, no medical or police records stating addictive or junkie use from me) so regardless of that argument-along with pointing out my clean tox screens, i’d still be cut off. by the same doctor i have seen on and off over a decade. i’d have to wait a month or two before she would prescribe me the benzo she knew legitimately kept me from living in my overactive mind.

ok fine, i should’ve been dandy, but she knew i lacked my baby dose of stimulant for the narcolepsy. 
don’t get me wrong i understand that scripting an upper and downer seems off. tho without abusing them or eating them together, she knew as well as i do, that the spread out amoung the day, was indeed not a cure all, but it’s no where close to this.

knowing i’m going to have to sacrifice my anxiety med for whatever medicine is deemed right for my narcolepsy. i’m attending online school and the moment it’s too much or i can’t comprehend the assignment, the self loathing cunt in my mind just becomes a loop of insults. anxiety meds easily shut the negative one up, but without that the insults become a mantra, in my case a very ugly lullaby, but one none the less. then the narcolepsy takes it as cue to sleep, no matter what.

so i’ve decided that after three years since i went cold turkey off paxil (didn’t think it worked and i felt i could just overcome the withdrawal) 

the first year is a blur. maybe year and a half. became more so reclusive. the same gal who was social butterfly, rather be out and around folks than home, is absolutely in doubt. doubt/embaraasment/shame. fear illogical things. know every worse case scenario before a story is even completely over.

i had worked starting at 15, all through high school. yea not mind blowing jobs but i worked for a living. always. well not in the last three and a half years. 

i need to not feel like this. i want to help my bf monetarily, even a pittance would at least make me feel useful. he’s amazing, aware my mental illness isn’t by choice, working or not we will make it by.

he’s a disabled veteran and we both sufffer mental illness with ptsd…completely different traumas but both ill. he’s medicated. tho ppl like us has been studied and proven it is hard to “adult”. imaginary world of “all will work out”

  1. it’s not. he’s amazing, but he isn’t seeing how him and i ration weekly food, so my son won’t be without on his weekend visits.
  2. two adults very much in love, unfortunately  both suffering mental illness

this is such a terribly hard decision. i know my life of social anxiety/fear and loathing of all/& isn’t going to be perfect. it never was.,

firstly, those meds have to build back into the system. 

second-takes sometimes months of messing with milligrams or even trying other similar options. meanwhile , doc is 6 weeks apart. Six weeks after initial visit for them to feel ok prescribing the additional med(antianxiety or stimulant)i take my headshriners diagnosis transcripts and meds scripted)

so no quick fix. not a promise, possibly quite not even a possibility, that i’ll be the hel i always hated on, tho i could speak on the phone. for hours,in my thirties to my childhood bff. even when i had wronged her in the foulest of forms, she had my kids back. then in my reclusiveness i just let her go. selfish? yes. but it’s all consuming. i’m not proud. i’ve shed so many tears from missing her. i could easily rectify with a call. my embarassment of not having that control is a shameful weakness. also little/no contact to my blood family, just my kiddos.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~i don’t see making it much further,  like this.  yea yea yea, common “DOOMSDAY THEORY from trauma” tho that’s not an option: i won’t fuk up my kids with that. 

this is where my decision to return to slave of big pharma. for as much as i hate what antidepressants & such did to my head. not once was i ever told that damage is done, insane withdrawal period, not allowing me to live without its chemicals. tho back in the 90s docs fed you meds and patients trusted them. 

I NEED THIS TO BE THE SOLUTION-The med i have adamantly fought for fouling me up for stopping it was working i got out, worked, helped my mom, had my kids living with me, tended house, wasn’t such a chump. scared of nothing yet feel fear , indeed real.  yes i still had paranoia and anxiety attacks. the me in my mind still hated me, but not constant. i feel this HAS to be my solution. 

foo.

sorry for rambling. 

it’s just an intense decision. what ifs with my beloved. he fell in love with this gal who never stops talking. a homebody. noncustody of my kids. but that’s untrue. i haven’t been mentally fit for full time 7 year old. though the fact he lives with his father and not me, is absolute torture. 

the fear that this may cause issue with my boyfriend, is a great concern. when one person has to “adult” it has a chance of escalating. i love this man ever so much. yes he’s a reason i need to get right. to help, to be here, in the now. i need to believe he will understand 

ill end it with a dark, yet inspirational quote from nine inch nails, trent reznor:

i used to be so big & strong, i used to know my right from wrong…i used to never be afraid..i used to be somebody…

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mothers pastor

so i’m going through my fb feed…and it shows your memories and i was reminded of this..

2 years ago my moms church was at a loss. in complete shock and awe. a man, their pastor, a husband, father of two young children killed himself.

it was quite a conundrum cos in the christian faith, you kill your self, your bound to hellfire. so i speak my words that he calmed his demons that were too overwhelming and such. blasphemy!!!!

but it was their pastor…can’t you give another thought to anything?  he was a pastor who was “closer to their God” i would assume. so why damn him to hell?

the church flourishes to this day, nobody crumbled and that pastor isn’t really mentioned anymore…kinda under the rug, kind of thing.  anything not to tarnish the already stained church walls. shame is all i have over that. i will throw in a tsk as well…

why is it so hard for people to hide and run from suicide or acknowledging it? why am i bothering to write this anyway?
it’s for myself…i’m really broken but not shattered yet. i need to know that people are awake and aware that suicide doesn’t discriminate. 

wake up folks, if you haven’t already 

later—-my mom texts me with her reaction, so i think it only fair to include:

Hi baby I as usual read the postings in your blog. Love to see the compassion you emanate on it. But sort of things I think i want you to know. The condemning to hell those who commit suicide is only in the Roman Catholic Religion. In order to commit a sin you have to do it with a 100% clarity of mind. Does a person in complete despair have clarity of mind I don’t think so. And that we have forgotten or don’t talk abt Robert is not true. He was a very very dear friend and pastor to us and we miss him like we miss those that have departed from our lives. We keep his mom around us all the time. We made sure she is ok, meet with her every Sunday and take turns taking her to what we refer to her as her son’s church. Even that Gus widow lives with her parents in Kentucky we talk all the time with her and we had the honor that last year Scarlett was baptized at our church with an entire congregations as sponsors in fact today is Gus widows birthday.

sadly true…

i’m trying to muster up this energy….i have my 2 eldest girls coming over for dinner & tattoo…one, may not be by blood but she’s part of me, turns 18 thursday. so she’s obviously getting a tattoo from me…well not by me…my bf got that part….

anyhow. it’s gonna be a houseful of my kids…not a thing that happens all that often…im a weekend/spring break/etc mom to the youngest.

so they’re at the store picking up last minute dinner stuff and i’m kinda not wanting to fake it. tho, i must. lately i’ve been much that of a recluse and stir crazy at the same time. how does that even happen? anyhow, i will smile and forget the seether as it’s bearing its weight on me. 

how flipping cool? cos that’s what it feels like-the veruca salt song “seether”. one of my favortist music band has the same name. where they have a song called “fake it”. where i took upon myself to call this blog by the very same name. 

thank you crazy brain of mine. for in writing i just got this super calm in my revelation. “can’t fight the seether”

kinda out of it

been a few days…haven’t really been in the mood.

tho, i’ve been searching facebook for pages of suicide advocacy, quotes, etc. so damn sad that there are hundreds of these pages.

looking thru pics and commentaries, i found so many stating that “no one is listening” or “no one cares”

that’s so true. unless it happens in your inner circle, where you are affected, suicide and overdoses aren’t real. or they are people who were selfish who didn’t care about anyone but themselves. 

i don’t want to say it, but just wait. if it hasn’t affected you or a loved one(whether the act or surviving) guess what? it will. will you advocate then? will you notice how fukd up it is that truly no one is listening? 

i’ve included some memes i found around my searches…please join these fb groups, they need our support too!