Saying Goodbye

I am in Illinois with my mom for two weeks to see doctors, pack up everything, and say goodbye to the good friends who have made my life possible for the last 8.5 years in Illinois. I was in and out of the hospital more than 30 times during that time. My church, my family/friends, my friends have all walked that horrible road with me. They’ve seen me suicidal and helped me get through the moment and then take me to the hospital anyway. They’ve fed my cats while I’m gone. They’ve welcomed me back into the world without batting an eyelash. They gave me the opportunity to volunteer and give back in ways I could. They helped me feel less disabled. I can’t say thank you enough. And Goodbye is nearly impossible. I really hope I find cheap airfares to come back for a visit sooner rather than later, and regularly too. I’d like to keep relationships!

And saying goodbye to my psychiatrist and therapist was near impossible! They have been so helpful and accepting. I bonded so deeply to them. They are wonderful people.

I’m finding that the rending apart of relationships is so difficult, so very difficult, that I can’t concentrate on much else. My mom asks me questions about packing or donating, or whether these things are going to home or to storage, and it hurts my brain, literally, to make a decision. My concentration is so low that I’m forgetting basic routines like how to get ready for bed.

rootsI’m tearing apart roots that I haven’t had since leaving California after 30 years of growing up there. I hope I can make some shallow roots that deepen quickly in my new location in Dallas area. I’m a person that needs people and that needs roots.



New, and exciting? Depressing? Things afoot.

I need the support of my family to feel better and be more stable. So I’m moving from Chicago-land to Dallas area (where they currently live) to live with my brother and parents (who also live with him).

It’s rather sudden. I’ll be in IL for two weeks to see doctors and friends and to pack. My mom is coming with me, and my cat is returning with us. Now that will be an adventure!

Then two weeks later my brother will fly up and drive the moving truck and car trailer down to Texas. Before April I’ll be settled and a resident of Texas. ((((Ew, not a fan))))

A lot of friends will be involved in the moving. Thank you!!

And I will miss dearly all my friends and my mental health care team. It hurts.

It hurts too that I’m giving up my independence for my health, which, while probably the best decision, puts two strong values opposing one another.

I will probably move into my own apartment within six months about a mile away. I hope that physical closeness will provide support and independence.

So much is happening so quickly. My psychiatrist gave me haldol instead of Ativan to help with anxiety. It’s working. I’m in so much grief over losing relationships that just are not going to survive the physical distance. Don’t let it happen again.

Back with Family

My depression was spiraling out of control, and even though it was not an ideal flight, the price was right at $88. So I waited those few days, suicidal, until I could be with the support of my family continuously.

I’m here now and quite suicidal. My mom is supportive but doesn’t know what to do except remind me I’ve been through this and I’ll get through it again. But when I’m suicidal, it feels all-consuming and I’m not sure I’ll make it out alive. Even though I have before.

My therapist reminded me that I’m not overwhelmed – the sea didn’t crash over me – but state what is actually going on. I am having OCD visions of a suicidal nature that loop around my head. They eventually stop. I have to wait them out.

This is also not what I want to hear. I’m hearing truth. But I need someone down in the hole with me who is willing to be quiet, or share stories, or say “I hear you and I love you.” Being suicidal is a detachment from life. And anhedonia (not feeling anything pleasurable) usually goes along with it.

I’m miserable waiting for this to pass. I don’t want to go to a new hospital, but might have to.

New Year’s Thoughts

I made it through my riskiest time of year. I did get the Christmas delusion and grandiosity a day or so early and lasted for a few days. In fact I still have the fear of the mystical and mysterious that comes with the manic experience.

See, I grew up very religious. From the time I was 9 or 10 I had the experience that I was participating in the birth of Christ in some way on Christmas Eve. It manifested as a sense of the mysterious, mystical, numinous, though I couldn’t use those terms or images until I was a young adult. By the time I was in seminary preparing to be a pastor, the feeling was strong and the experience included the sense that I helped bring/was bringing Jesus into the world and I had a special mission to bring hope or joy or love or unity into the world through Jesus.

I know, a little over the top. I even thought most people had a sense of the mystical on Christmas Eve. It wasn’t until weeks of therapy around this time of year over several years that I knew in my heart and mind that it was a manic experience and that most people don’t have a mystical experience at Christmas Eve, and I couldn’t bring it out with my worship services.

Now that I’m aware of all this, I get anxious as I anticipate this manic experience. I try not to anticipate but I do. I avoid my church during the weeks leading up to Christmas (Advent) because the focus is waiting for The Christ Child to come again and our participation in the peace, joy, and love in the world. Even though I didn’t grow up with this liturgical rhythm, you can see how it would be Not Helpful. Not only do I lose my church support system, I am faced in my mind with what I’m missing. So it’s hard not to anticipate the delusion and grandiosity.

Today is New Year’s Eve, and I am still scared of the mysterious and mystical. I’m glad the weather is bad enough I can’t travel to a New Year’s worship service. There might be too much of “opening the mystery of a new year” or that’s where my thoughts might go. Not Helpful. I’m still scared.

In the new year, I’m hoping for mental stability and the ability to ask for and act on help when I need it. I hope I don’t need the hospital. I’m also hoping to find that special someone.

Welp. Win Some, Lose Others

Good news! I haven’t been so suicidal that I haven’t had to go to the hospital! I’ve been increasingly suicidal the last week. But I’ve promised myself I won’t follow through, even when tempted to follow through.

My mom came back with me on Halloween for a few weeks, then extended to a month to help me adjust and get settled and give me moral support for the routines I need. I sadly got bronchitis so I haven’t been able to exercise, which would have helped my mood and my routines. I did adopt a cat! Charmer.

After a lovely Thanksgiving with my mom, she left and I was able to adjust for a time. Then my finances fell out from under me and my bank was not helpful. I was totally destabilized emotionally and mentally. I got help from my family and from my church and a friend’s church. One of the problems was an increase in intensity in one of my medical diagnosis and needed medical supplies and drugs.  And I would run out of food at the end of the month.

So, my family is taking me back to their house again, for a few weeks to stabilize emotionally and mentally. The rest of my life seems ok. Getting over bronchitis so I can exercise, making meals, finances stabilized. But I’m not.

I feel broken, inside and out. My mood was destabilized and it’s not righting itself. As my psychiatrist pointed out, this is a difficult time of year for me and getting family’s support would be helpful. She also wants me to practice self-forgiveness for all the financial mishaps. And self-compassion that I need help. She increased my anti-anxiety med too, since I feel more anxious too.

I feel like a failure for needing help. I feel like a failure that I let my finances blow it for me. Just when I was getting on my feet after my mom left. And now I’m going back. GRRRRR.

It’s Time

I have come to the end of my time with family and becoming comfortable with healthy habits. That was the goal, and it took a few weeks longer than expected, but I made it. I feel ready to go home to try my hand at healthy habits and routines in my own environment. 

The only way this step is possible is that my mom is coming home with me for about two weeks. We get home on Halloween and she will keep me from getting overwhelmed those first few days with everything that needs to be settled. 

I’ve already paid bills and picked up meds for the month. Just need groceries (thank you Peapod for delivering most of them), a stationary recumbent bike from Play It Again Sports, and car care. Plus I have appointments with my therapist and with my psychiatrist. 

A busy first few days with trying to stay/establish working out routines and cooking routines. 

I’ve been on and off anxious, even knowing my mom will be there. My therapist is encouraging me to think of this as opportunity rather than anxious-making activities. I have the opportunity to remake myself for the better. 

So that’s the growth mindset I’m trying to have.

Turning a Corner

With my ever-wise therapist, I have decided to buy a plane ticket home. Two or three weeks out. It’s time to transition into my own space and my own rhythms and routines. 

This scares me to death. How much of my mood will destabilize? (Probably labile between 3 and 5 for 3-4 weeks. 5 seems to be my baseline.) How will I deal with all the anxiety? (I’ll probably get up to 8 and 9 which is dangerous/suicidal for me. Time to pull out the Ativan.) How will I deal with the fear that I can’t do this? (Repeating true things about myself that I believe: I am competent to take care of myself; I know when to ask for help.)

You can see all the work we did today. Homework is to buy the ticket. Set up time with friends now that there is a date to work with. Other things are bonus.

I’m still scared to death. And crying. Definitely crying.
Pic from time in Texas: 

My brother