Avril Lavigne - Nobody's Home

Well, I couldn't tell you
Why she felt that way
She felt it everyday
And I couldn't help her
I just watched her make
The same mistakes again
What's wrong, what's wrong now?
Too many, many problems
Don't know where she belongs
Where she belongs
She wants to go home
But nobody's home
It's where she lies
Broken inside
No place to go
No place to go
To dry her eyes
Broken inside
Open your eyes
And look outside
Find the reasons why
You've been rejected
And now you can't find
What you've left behind
Be strong, be strong now
Too many, many problems
Don't know where she belongs
Where she belongs
She wants to go home
But nobody's home
It's where she lies
Broken inside
No place to go
No place to go
To dry her eyes
Broken inside

Her feelings she hides
Her dreams she can't find
She's losing her mind
She's falling behind
She can't find her place
She's losing her faith
She's falling from grace
She's all over the place...

She wants to go home
But nobody's home
It's where she lies
Broken Inside
No place to go
No place to go
To dry her eyes
Broken Inside
She's lost inside,
Lost inside
She's lost inside,
Lost inside

Can't think of a title for this

So I had decided some time ago that I wouldn't only write when I feel like crap.  This post is a bit of both.  Although I have been having some very dark and disturbing thoughts that I don't even want to talk about, in other moments I find my thoughts drifting inexplicably towards optimism.  I have never been an optimist, a dreamer, rather than call myself a pessimist, I prefer to say realist.  Lately in those "other" moments I have found myself thinking that there is no reason that I can't enjoy life.  That despite the money problems which are often of our own making and my inability to work or find the confidence to sell my work, I can still find happiness here and there.
I'm still plugging away at this that and the other thing.  Having John home Mondays and Fridays (he has to use up his holidays) has been extremely helpful.   I've been crocheting hats, scarfs and shrug sweaters, I've been adding the finishing touches to my kimono wall hanging, I've tried framing a few things in frames I've found at second hand stores.  I may only work on one particular thing for a few hours at a time but rotating works for me.  Projects don't get boring and I have been finishing many.  These things are more enjoyable for me now, they don't feel as much like killing time, a distraction, as they did before.
I watched CNN's tribute to heros the other night and at first I felt inspired, like:  "I can do something like that, there are so many causes I really believe in and people I would like to help."  But as the show went on I started drifting into "I wouldn't know where to start", "I can't even get out to volunteer at a place that's already established", "These people are way better, smarter, kinder, more ambitious than I am".  Amazingly, these thoughts did not make me feel depressed, I just thought I am not cut out to start and run some big volunteer effort just the same as I have never been a salesperson or super ambitious.  Even in high school I always just wanted a job that would support me, not a career with big money, power, lots of staff and all that stuff.  Obviously it would be nice to have enough money to not worry, to do somethings we've always wanted to do.  Not there there is much that John and I have dreamed of doing, neither of us has much desire to travel the world.  We'd like to see Vimy, the Grand Canyon, a few NASCAR races but we're not the type to want to see all corners of the earth off the beaten path.  I'm too scared to do that and say what you want about that but I am and there it is. 

Jessica is thinking she would like to go to University and I think that is wonderful.  She and John are very concerned about money but I would rather she graduate with a mountain of student debt and earn a modest living doing something she enjoys, something she doesn't have to drag her ass into every day.  If she really wants to she will find a way and we'll help her as best we can.  I think there is always a way if you aren't too scared to try and I was too scared to try and as time went on I just got more and more scared and here I am.  I'm still very scared but maybe the first step in getting over that fear is to accept that it's there and not to beat myself up over it.  Does it really matter how or when I got here?  I read in a book written by a Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron, and one thing that she said comes back to me now.  Something about regardless of the journey (no, not it starts with the first step, although it does) it was about having to start where you are.  I've probably got all that wrong and maybe it doesn't make much sense to you, but I think I have to stop worrying about where I want to be and how I got to where I am and just accept that this is where I am first, before "moving on".  I have to learn to live "in the moment"  just the way it is.  It's funny how you can learn these things, hear them a hundred times, have people tell them to you, explain them to you and you think you understand but then one day, it "really" makes sense.  Sometimes that sense only stays with me a day or two, but it is those days I have to remember and hold on to.  That's what I'm trying to do and instead of pushing the dark thoughts away, because then I have to focus on them, I'm trying to just let them drift away.

Jinx!

I spoke too soon yesterday, my back is killing me.  Now I wish I could soak in a nice, deep, hot tub to sooth my back.

Not much going on here

I think I have mentioned before that I really only seem to post when I`m feeling shitty.  I usually save my ``brave face`` for family and quite honestly when I`m feeling better, I try to do more constructive things something that I can hold and look at if you know what I mean. Today I feel reasonably well and am at quite a loss for words.  I guess when I look back and see the gaps in the dates when I`ve posted, I can say that there have been pretty long stretches where I was doing well.  Of course some of those gaps are because I was too unwell to post but there aren't that many of those.
As you know, I have been waiting for our upstairs bathroom to be redone for quite some time (a mere 20 years) and there always seems to be something that comes up that uses up the money that was being put aside - glasses, driving lessons, truck repairs etc., you know what I mean.  This time I am truly torn up.  I`m really the only person in the house who cares about the bathroom.  I wish I had a nice bathroom with a big soaker tub (which we already have thanks to D) where I could relax without looking at cracked tiles and peeling paint, blah, blah.  Jessica has moved in with her boy friend and my boys are in and out of there for their showers and don`t much notice or care about the state of the room as long as they have hot water.  However - I know, I know, there is always a but - The couch we have been using is an old sofa bed that was handed down to us from my mother in law.  You know the story, broken springs, flat padding, torn upholstery.  I was using sheets to cover it which actually was quite handy because I could just toss them in the wash when (not infrequently) Max tracked mud onto it or when something got spilled (also not infrequently).  Anyway, I could live with that but, I have been having back pain a lot, sometimes excruciatingly painful, so John suggested I use his recliner during the day.  I started to do that and noticed a significant decrease in the number of days that I was having back pain.  John started insisting that I sit there when he was at home but I know having his legs elevated and his knees supported made a significant difference in the amount of pain he experiences.  So I guess you can see where this is going.  We decided to start looking for a new couch.  I knew I wanted something that had no loose cushions, something that was easy to clean and something that had plenty of support for my lower back.  We started looking and concluded that leather is really not much more expensive than fabric.  I was asking if they had vinyl or naugahyde or something cheaper than leather and every single salesman looked at me like I`m stupid and then began to extoll the virtues of ``treated`` fabrics.  I`ve seen enough new furniture get ruined to know that that is crap.  Spills do not just puddle on top of the fabric and stains do'nt just wipe away.   The fabric covered furniture pretty much all have loose cushions and throw pillows and most of the stuff we did like had reclining ends on the couch.  Anyway, once again, I`m sure you can see where this is going - we bought a new couch and chair.  The chair is a recliner and the couch has reclining seats on each end with just a regular seat in the center.  I know some of you (D) won`t believe this but it wasn`t much more expensive than it would have been to get a couch and chair that I didn`t like as much.  We get the stuff home and it is significantly larger than it looked in a huge showroom at the furniture store and John`s recliner (a gift from his sister) is very large.  Our house is not that big so now our little living room looks like a barbie doll size house with cabbage patch kid size furniture.  The good news is that after a few weeks, my back is much better and I`m having very few problems in that department; when Max comes in wet and muddy from a walk I don`t have to try to keep him off the furniture because once it dries I can just wipe it down.  I have rubbed the whole thing down with a conditioner/cleaner that came "free" and it looks great.  We did pay for it, but obviously with the money that was supposed to be for the bathroom.  I have been feeling terribly guilty about it because we should be trying to build some more equity in the house but every time I sit down, or get up without back pain I'm relieved and happy we made the choice we did.  I also feel guilty that we ended up buying such an expensive item basically for my benefit but then John and Derek are enjoying it as well and I would be the only one enjoying a new bathroom - does that make sense or is it just me trying to justify the selfishness of spending the money on relieving my back pain.  Anyway... The old couch ended up going to Jess and her boyfriend which made them happy and that makes me happy.  I've had to put away a lot of the clutter I had out (not clutter but works in progress) because there really isn't room for a coffee table, just an end table  and that also means I have to get up off my ass more often because I don't have a bunch of stuff within arms reach anymore.  All in all, it's done now and here we are with comfy new furniture and a crappy old bathroom.

In other news, Jessica is working hard at school and a part time job and she's really enjoying both.  She's a little mixed up about where she wants to go in terms of school.  Her exposure to different things is making it a little more difficult for her to decide.  She's thinking journalism, as always, but she also seems very interested in public relations, communications (whatever that means exactly) and political science.  She has time to figure that out but I think she's a little surprised by the variety of things she's finding interesting.  We can only go by what she is saying but she seems to be getting fairly good grades and for sure she is really liking school.  She also seems to be budgeting her money pretty well because she is not asking us for any. 

Derek is working part-time at well above minimum wage but is complaining he's not getting enough hours.  He is looking for a second part time job but is finding it a little bit difficult because he has to be available weekends for the first job and most part  timers have to be available to work weekends.  He had an interview yesterday at a local KFC and the manager basically told him that she thought he was too smart and ambitious for the job and that he would get bored and quit before too long.  I don't know if that's good or bad but I think it boosted his confidence.  On the bright side with the first part time job he is learning to deal with disappointment and containing his temper.  The first few times he felt he wasn't getting enough hours he did a lot of stomping around and bitching but now he seems to be taking it in stride and continuing the hunt for a second job.  He's almost finished his driving lessons and is anxious to buy a car.  I don't think he has any clue how high his insurance is going to be and he's talking about getting a car loan.  I know this is way too much for him to take on right now but I'm hoping it's just talk and he'll become more realistic once he starts actually looking for a car.  Our conundrum right now is that once he becomes a licensed driving living at this address he has to be added to the insurance on John's truck.  We don't think this is going to be a trivial amount but he will rarely be able to actually use the truck so do we make him pay the extra insurance?  It's not his fault he has to be added to the insurance on a vehicle he doesn't really have access to, but it's not our fault his getting a driver's license increases our insurance costs. 

Jeez, when they say that as your kids get older the problems don't get any bigger or smaller, they just get different they aren't kidding.  In any case, I'm very proud of both of them.  Anyway, that's the best I can do for good news so I will sign off now and get some housework done.

December 26, 1996

I feel like my life is beginning again.  Last year at this time I was in a psychiatric hospital suffering from a Major Clinical Depression.  Feeling suicidal, hopeless, like a burden to everyone I love.  Little did I know that was the beginning, or the end of the worst period of my life.

So much has happened this past year.  I’ve learned so much about Depression, me, my childhood, my children… the list is endless.  Today, as most days now, I feel hopeful about the future, and happy.  All the diary pages full of despair and hopelessness have been shredded and so begins my life as mother, wife and woman.  I can say with all my heart and soul that I love my husband and children unconditionally.

There is still much I have to learn about myself.  From that I will learn to cope with the kids and life’s disappointments.  The one constant is the endless supply of love and support from John.  He has truly saved my life.

I wouldn’t have made it without the love and support of (my mother-in-law) and (my sister) either.  (Friends) have provided the love and support they could.  I always knew they were there if I needed them.  And I know Mom & Dad have done their best.

I hardly remember how and when it all began.  The depression I mean.  I do remember the despair.  The feeling that my life was forever changed for the worse by the children.  I still have difficulty coping but how much they make me laugh!  And loving they are!  Truly my life has changed forever.  But it is full and rich with love and support.  I couldn’t ask for more.

The last two symptoms of my illness:  my weight and an overwhelming dept.  Now, some days, I believe that these too will sort themselves out.

After all the trials and tribulations this family has been through since Derek was born.  We are all better people.  We have brought out the best in our friends and discovered who were false friends.  Most importantly, I am a better person.  More confident, more giving and happier.

And so begins my new life.

What a load of crap.  It’s nice that I was so optimistic.  Reading that now (2011) I can see clearly that I thought I was just about cured and that before long I would live happily ever after.  I suppose it’s a good thing that I didn’t know then what I know now. 

Sharing my depression experience...naah

Because I have never really felt ashamed of my depression I have frequently considered speaking publicly to people about it.  In fact I did once speak to a group of administrative staff working for various fire departments in Ontario.  It went well and I think I was able to educate some people about the issue.  Recently I have been thinking about it again.  I wouldn't know how to go about finding people who want to listen but more importantly, I don't think I have anything positive to offer.  I can tell people about my experience, my ups and downs but ultimately I have no happy ending to inspire people to fight.  The real reason I am still here is because I have been required to live out of a feeling of obligation to my family.  I would never have wanted anyone to be angry with them for leaving (dieing), or for them to blame themselves because 1) they may feel something they did or didn't do was the straw that broke the camels' back or 2) they missed some major clue or indication that it was coming and they should have/could have stopped it.  Even at times when I thought I would have been doing everyone a favour,  I remember the words of two counselors in particular.  One said "She will blame herself" referring to my beautiful daughter and the second said "My mother committed suicide, your kids will not get over it".  I suppose the whole suicide thing is selfish because if you do it your family and friends, at least those that love you, will suffer terribly not just because of your death but the nature of it.  By continuing to live and do the best I can, I am the only one who suffers.  So this suffering offers no message of hope to people who have depression.  The people who need to speak about it are the ones who fight it and come out the other side becoming successful and happy and leave the illness behind, like cancer survivors.    I am doing what I can to give my live meaning but so far the only thing I feel like I've been successful at is rescuing Max and fostering dogs for the human society.  Giving them loving homes until they are well enough to be adopted.  We have so far fostered five dogs...five dogs, and I was first diagnosed in September of 1995.  Not much to be proud of.  What does it say about me and my self-esteem, self-respect that my deepest is wish is to be well so that D and John would not have to worry about me any more.5

I absolutely know that all of the people out there who know me will remind me about my children.  They are good people, funny, smart and I hope with all my heart that they will be happy.  These things are true but I feel that they are true in spite of me, not because of me.  Jessica does not want to have kids because "look what happened to you when you had kids".  I truly believe that my depression was inevitable and that it was triggered post partum (even though it was more than a year after Derek was born) was chance.  My anxiety has always been pretty out of control and if I had progressed in my career as a legal real estate clerk from residential to bigger and bigger commercial real estate which I envisioned happening, the pressure and responsibility would have caused so much stress and anxiety that I would have cracked up anyway. 
In the end, even on my good days or what I would even call episodes of happiness, I am more or less a shell.  I don't know my parents, my siblings except D, my kids.  I really don't know their full stories and histories; their beliefs about life and spirituality, their feelings about their families of origin and the families they have created with spouses, partners and children.  For the most part I don't even really know what they do for a living or what they wish they were doing.  I feel terribly isolated emotionally from pretty much every one except for D and John.  I know my mom would like to be closer but I don't know how to tell her where I'm at that won't make her feel responsible.  She has already mentioned that she is to blame for my genetic predisposition to depression.  It is as it has always been, I feel if people really wanted to know how/where I am they would sit down and ask me honestly and not offer the "So, how are you?" that rolls off the tongue so easily when speaking to someone.  At the same time, I really want to know the truth about how others are but I feel that asking would be prying and that if people want to tell me the truth of how they are, they will tell me.
In the meantime, my creative endeavors are keeping me busy and Max and the occasional foster dog are continuing to get me out of bed in the morning and out for a walk most (not every) days.

Feeling a little paniced

So I just wrote most of this post and then somehow deleted it.  The second telling will not have my heart in it. 

I have been teetering on the edge of an episode the last few weeks.  Some days are excruciatingly painful with death high on my list of  possible solutions, some days are just bad days. I have been unable to find purpose in my life and given my tendency to disassociate, much of my energy is being spent trying to stay present.  Surprisingly, playing solitaire on the computer has proven to be my "check out tool" lately.  Saying it is my "drug of choice" is a little overdramatic but it is nevertheless essentially the same thing. Since I realized that I wasn't "just playing solitaire", I have been trying to stay away from it but I am finding it surprisingly difficult.  Particularly when I'm alone.  When John is here it is easier to stay present with him although there are still times when I want to just say "Stop talking to me, can't you see I'm in pain over here"  Of course he knows, not always how much but he always knows when things are not good and it breaks my heart because he tries so hard to cheer me up and he wants so desperately to fix it for me. 

I have been trying to keep up with house stuff but as is typical, that - in particular cooking and eating - has proven difficult.  Fortunately, I have been sleeping fairly well so that's one thing I'm not worried about.  Unfortunately, and surprisingly, the lack of bone dragging fatigue has not over come the general lethargy and disinterest.  I have completely lost interest in any art/craft I've been working on.  They all seem pointless - the planning, the work, the assembly, the finishing - of any project seems stupid.  I try to do a little work on stuff every day whether I feel like it or not just to keep moving, going through any motions in order to not lay down and...I don't even know what to call it...dissociate, check out, vegetate  - whatever, I can't do it.  It only makes things worse.  John would call it progress that I can see it happening and be conscious enough to try to stop the downward spiral.  I'm sure he's right (as usual) but that's not making it any easier, or making me feel any better.

I am going to have to find a way to pull it together because John is having his knee surgery on Monday and we really don't know how long he will be off his feet. 

I need something to change.  How many times have I told myself this?  Every time I mean it with all my heart and every time I try to find a way and every time I fail and slip back into this rut.  I'm not sure how many more times I can do this.  I actually made arrangements to do some volunteer work but when the day arrived, I was unable to bring myself to go and be exposed to people, things and places I don't know.  Essentially I chickened out so here I sit writing this and telling myself once I hit "publish" I need to put the computer down and switch the laundry over, fold the load in the dryer and clean out the fridge, etc. and not play "just one game" of solitaire.  Another of my fall back positions which I will employ today is make a list of things we need to do before John's surgery, meal plans, groceries, etc.  A list is always a comfort to me because on paper the list always seems less daunting than when I'm trying to remember everything and it just swirls around in my head. 

Today Spanner, I am not in pursuit of happiness, but the will to live.