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Well. It's been a year since I last had the desire to write anything here. It's been a rough one to say the least. And not just for me. For those around me too.

I know I have... like... zero reason to feel the way I do.
Another person in my shoes might be happy as a clam.
They might have joy in everything they do and so much more.
But this? Me?

I hate my life.
I hate me.

I just... I don't want to try any more.
I've lost the point, I've lost my desire to exist....

I think the only reason why I am still around is because of my desperate desire to see a honest smile on the face of someone I love dearly. A smile that... well. Is well past deserved for her. She has been through a lot of shit in recent years, and is still pushing forward in spite of it all. Life knocks her down, she flips the bird and just keeps going, in spite of a desire to forget it all.
She's gotten me through several dark nights, though some she didn't even realize were there. She has LITERALLY saved my life on more than one occasion.....
She's just... amazing and beautiful. Fabulous and brilliant. Haunted, but a beacon of light in the darkness for those around her.
Above all, she deserves to be happy, even if she herself does not see or even remotely believes that.
I know there's literally nothing I can do to help her, but.... I still wish... I still hope. I love her dearly and offer her whatever I can do.
She deserves joy and so, so much more.

I don't know. I feel like I'm starting all over again in this stupid journey of mine.
Possibly pointless journey.

When I first met him, my new therapist recommended I start writing again. Recording my thoughts and my feelings.
Well... two and a half months later, here I am. Hoping something will come out of it.

Wish me luck.
And pray, pray for my dearest friend.

Distress in the Workplace.....

As the few of you that bother with reading this likely know, I am a second grade teacher. This is only my second year doing so, so I have a grand total of a year and a half's worth of teaching under my belt. I'm not going to lie. This year so far has been extremely rough. This group of students is quite a group and difficult to manage. And while I'm not the only one who thinks that among my team, since I am the newest teacher, the youngest among us, I seem to bear a great deal of scrutiny that... well. I'm not coping with well. 

It has been a while since my last entry. So let me catch you up before I get you into today. 

I have been in a downward spiral for a long time. A really long time. Before, I would moments of clarity, a week or two of sunshine in my life before I started slipping into the abyss again. Breaks, I suppose. 

Well, there hasn't been a true "break" that's lasted me longer than... I don't know, at most a day, but typically a few hours, in months. 

Back in October my symptoms went from bad to worse. 

I was suicidal. Nothing new, as I often wonder why the hell I'm alive, who would miss, and just wishing I was dead. But this? 

I had plans. Ideations. Scary ones. 

And on top of it... 

I was alone in my world. 

Yes, I had my family, but they were in the midst of other things in their life. I felt I couldn't turn to them for comfort. Not without confessing everything which, frankly, I had no idea how to explain. I STILL don't. 

But my friends? The very few I have here in person have been busy with their lives. I generally turned to the ones that I met online. Friends I've grown to trust deeply. 

Friends that... well. Sadly broke that trust in one fell swoop. 

I was in a horrible, awful way one afternoon, and turned to one such friend who, sadly I didn't realize, was tired of me. Of my depression. Of my misery. I confessed what I was feeling, and she tore me to shreds. I won't get into what was said here. I honestly don't remember all of it anyways, especially since I stopped reading it after a time. 

It was all I could do not to follow through with my ideations, to actually end it, once in for all. Because, hey. Why not? What was the point anyways?

Long story short, when I came back up a little, I was left feeling raw, empty. I had been seeking help before that, but not with much effort in the matter, but right then? I got on the phone and started making calls. 

My PCP refused to see me regarding my issues and their severity, and recommended I see a psychiatrist instead. 

The psychiatrist he recommended was a walk in clinic that only saw new patients at 10am, first come first serve. When the slot was filled, no more. The end! Yeah. Good luck getting in there. 

I called my insurance company who gave me a list of people in network that were in my area (which was good because the list I found online had the closest doctor nearly 75 miles away from location), but told me that most psychiatrists in the network will not see a patient who has not been definitively diagnosed as of late. I had to see a psychologist. 

They recommended a few and I called to get an appointment. 

Went and saw him, told him my problems, and my concerns with my prior diagnosis, and additional symptoms I have been having since I was last seen. 

He ended up putting me through a battery of tests that seemed designed to pinpoint or rule out varying mental illnesses. After several sessions, and two months, I was given a modified diagnosis:

• Bipolar, Undefined type (or whatever it is called). The mania I have is extremely minor and lasts too short a time. As such, under the DSM-V, I do not qualify for a Type II diagnosis, which is what I was given a decade ago. Okay. I was never sure about a Bipolar diagnosis anyways. 
• Generalized Anxiety. A name for what I was feeling.... 
• Social Anxiety. This one didn't surprise me, but again, it was nice for the name. 

He recommended medication to help get myself under some semblance of control, and therapy. 

He gave the name of a psychiatrist, who unfortunately was almost booked solid for the next month (Holiday Season and all), but took me as a new patient as soon as they were able. 

He even offered to extend his office hours one night a week so I could still come see him, who I am already comfortable with, without having to leave work early. 

Major points for this doctor, right? 

The month was a struggle to get through, and I didnt want to start therapy until I had something to help numb my symptoms in my system. So just this past Monday I went to see the Psychiatrist for the first time, and she's putting me on Latuda for now, and Tuesday I started my therapy. 

Only time will tell how much they will help. 

(Oh, btw, there's a few new friends I have learned to trust more readily as of late, thank the stars). 

ANYWAYS

Where was I going with this? 

Oh right. My day today. 

So anyways, back in .... I don't know, late November, early December, when I went in for my evaluation with my principal, I was having a hard day. After we went through everything, which, was largely positive for a second year teacher I'm told, but still had some... hiccups in the classroom management piece, I confessed to her. I was on the verge of tears anyways and told her what I'd been going through recently, and what I doing to try and counteract it. 

She was supportive, which I appreciated more than words. 

But then... today. I dont know. Maybe its because I havent really been able to correct my errors yet..... That I was struggling with writing lesson plans that I had only had for three weeks... and they were disjointed... I don't know... I was asked to step sideways and write two other subjects, one of which I've only touched briefly before, but is still important. 

I feel awful for it. 

Like I failed somehow. 

I get it, logically. I do. Put those plans in the hands of an experienced teacher, as opposed to me. Okay, fine. Perfect sense. 

But when I was told it, I was told that if I can't handle writing these plans, that someone (idk who) would have to step in and take over.

.... 

yikes. 

Went and asked for input. Asked what I could improve upon in my lesson planning. Was met with a "they're fine. I have to tweak them for my kids, but they're fine" more or less. 

So I went and talked to my principal, who had made the call, and told me that they just wanted them in the hands of the experienced teacher. 

But then we talked about my management skills. And how they were lacking when she came through because a couple of my kids were acting fools. 

I was chastised, basically told I need to buck up and fix it, to find something that will help me get a hold on my kids because they shouldn't be acting like this anymore. 

Okay... Yeh... I'm trying... 

Just... not hard enough apparently. 

But then.... well. I had another teacher come visit, teach my class a lesson, which was great, as I was able to watch her and learn from what she was doing. 

Save.... my kids were angels for her. Well behaved, for the most part. 

Which... just.... they're not that good for me. 

They're not bad kids. I just have a GOOD portion of my class who lack basic impulse control, and they rile the others up with them. 

Anyways... After school, I went to talk with her, only to find out that what I've said to others in confidence has been spreading. I was meeting with TWO teachers.... 

And without much prefacing, I was told what I was doing wrong, what I should be doing instead. 

Which... is great, yes, I don't knock that. 

The presentation was sour... 

And what they were suggesting were methods that I had tried earlier in the year to no avail. 

And my input was being disregarded. 

I was essentially told that I SUCK as a teacher. My classroom management is awful, and because of that, my kids aren't living up to their potential. So, I'm a stupid, awful teacher and better fix it quickly. 

Right there. 

Needless to say I tried really hard not to dissolve into tears, being told this TWICE in a day. 

The second time by people I had not confided in. 

Which means others are talking about how badly I'm failing this year..... 

So now I'm sitting here, completely terrified that I'm going to loose my job come June. That I won't be asked to renew my contract and I'll spend the summer in panic while dealing with my newfound diagnoses, therapy, and medication trying to find another teaching job in another district. I'm terrified that my confession back in November led to uncertainty about my being in the classroom, and so I am facing greater scrutiny and judgement because of it. Should I really have not said anything about it? 

I just... 

I'm lost. 

I don't know what to do. 

I mean, I'm going to implement more strategies (some of which I had ran across last night while trolling the internet for ideas) to help me get my class under better control. I'm going to have to stop venting frustrations out to my teammates.... 

and I'm terrified to ask for help now too, since I know I'm facing judgement.... 

I just... want to crawl into bed and sob all weekend... 

but there's too much to do.... 

Some Pick-Me-Ups

Okay. I was in need of something to build a ledge in my cavernous hole so that I could hope to pull myself up onto it and breathe for just a little while. Music and songs seem to be a great help to me, when I can make myself focus on them, so, though I am still feeling like garbage, I wanted to try and pick up not only myself, but list a couple songs that will usually help remind me that, yes, things are bad, but it is still possible to overcome. Somehow.

This is a post I have written before in a different blog, yes, so some of the songs are repeats. Just so you know.

So let's start with a song that is almost always guaranteed to bring a smile to my face:

Mysterious Ticking Noise

Potter Puppet Pals

Yep. Not kidding. Though this song is almost a decade old (geesh, has it really been that long?), it still makes me laugh. Especially that Dumbledore moment. Definitely a great work of art.

Hold On

Wilson Phillips

I was only 4 when this song came out, but I remembered it from then. It would come on the radio, and though I didn't really know or understand it, I would sing along with it. The song, like they all do, fell off the face of the planet for a while, eventually coming on to the local soft rock station that, after my stint with the two warring country music stations, I listened to more often than not. this time, however, when it came on, I listened to the words, and understood a whole lot more. What a great message it has. Hold on in spite of everything that is stacked against you. One day, it will change, but you have to just hold on until that time comes.

Stand

Rascal Flatts

This is one of my absolute favorite songs out there. This song describes exactly how it feels. The world is overwhelming and terrible, but there is still something good that can come of it. After all, 'life's like a novel with the end ripped out'. We can write our own pages, our own destinies. We just have to keep standing back up.

I'll Be Okay

McFly

Another song that is surprisingly almost a decade old, scarily enough. Still, it carries the perfect sentiment. When the days are going just as bad as they possibly can, just get through the day, and don't to tell yourself that you'll be alright. Thing's really will be okay. Eventually.

1985

Bowling for Soup

Okay, I know. Strange song choice, but its really not the song as much as the AMV that went with it. It's an incredible AMV that just goes so well with the music, for this one in particular. I rather enjoy watching these though, with all my favorite series, simply because some of them are absolutely wonderful.

Shadows

Lindsey Stirling

I just adore her music. It's always a nice thing to come to. <3

All I Wanted

Dear friend - if you read this - please know I am not angry or upset with you. I was upset by the situation, outlined below, but I needed to get the story out of me to get to the root of how I was feeling. I love you friend, and this doesn't change that. 

All I wanted was for you to spend time with me. Was that so much to ask? Our distance, being 2000 miles or so apart makes it hard to get together in person, yes, I recognize and readily accept that, but with the blessing of the modern communication via the phone or internet, that distance doesn't really matter all too much. Scheduling conflicts make it difficult, yes, but not impossible. It just takes some finagling to make the time.

It seems, as of late, the only time we're spending time together is when we're in the middle of an argument. Otherwise, I barely hear from you, because, as you put it, texting is not like IMing in that it isn't instant. It will be there for you when you get around to it. If you get around to it. It seems the only time I can hold your attention for longer than three minutes is when you get upset with me. Not always, I'll admit, but there is a staggering imbalance there. 

Last Saturday, when you mentioned in passing your schedule this week, I took the chance and asked, if you weren't too busy, if you wanted to do something together on your day off in the middle of the week this week. For once, you didn't give me a 'maybe', which by experience means that 99.5% of the time it wasn't likely to happen. You actually gave me an 'yeah', which is something I rarely hear from you when I'm asking you for something like this. 

I can't tell you how excited I was, how much my hopes were raised and my outlook was brightened. I had something happening in the very near future to look forward to with my dear friend. 

Wednesday came along, and I was still excited. You hadn't been feeling well in days prior, both physically and emotionally, but when asked, you said you were feeling better. That wasn't going to get in our way. Huzzah! I was certain you would have things you would need to do in the morning, but there would be at least a couple hours in the afternoon where we could play an online game, post in our online roleplay a few times, or even just curl up and watch a movie together while on the phone. I just spend some time together; I didn't really care how. I reminded you in passing what we had planned, scared to bring it up entirely, but you seemed to have remembered, promising to do it later because first you had to adult. I was okay with that, as I had things to do myself. 

I sent you a note at 3:30 my time, asking if you were done, and was met an hour later with a 'not quite' which, at least to me, means you were almost done, just needed some more time. Maybe another hour or so, and then we can play. I accepted that, and asked you to let me know. But at 7, I still hadn't heard anything, and tried again, knowing full well that the later it got, the less likely you would be to play with me as you would either want to spend the night on the phone with your boyfriend as you typically do, or pass out and sleep. Something. 45 minutes passed and you hadn't responded, my excitement and anticipation was turning to sour dread knotted there in my stomach. I finally put it out there bluntly: 'this isn't going to happen tonight, is it'. Surprisingly, you came back a couple minutes later, saying it was going to, but you were watching an episode of your show first while eating. The dread dissolved a little, and the smile returned. Okay. We were still on. 

But when you came back 20 minutes later and asked what I wanted to do, I gave you my first choice, which you almost immediately turned down because you were no longer sober (though, I'm still not sure I see the problem with that...). Pangs started through me again. You knew I had been waiting for you. You knew what would have likely been my first choice. But you were ready with an 'I can't'. 

Please don't let that mean what I thought it would mean. 

I gave you an out. Told you we could reschedule for another time. Another day off. Otherwise, I left it up to you to decide, because I didn't know what we could do, what you wanted to do. You suggested a game, followed it up with a maybe, to which I responded with a 'pick'. You asked me if I wanted to play yes or no, and I pointed out that you were the one that said maybe. I was game, and went to go log into the servers, and waited. 

And waited. 

Almost 30 minutes later, you came back with another excuse. Your internet wasn't working. It apparently, though you had said nothing about this before (though would you have? we had barely talked before, so I can't be sure), had been happening on and off for a while, ever since some bad storms had rolled through. You would need to call your internet company and have them come out and take a look at it. 

Our get together was canceled, and within five minutes you had vanished.

I'm frustrated, yes, but I'm not even mad at you. I might have been for about 30 seconds, but mostly I was disappointed because of how much I had been looking forward to that time with you. I can't tell you how much this hurt me. A part of it is your fault, yes, for canceling on me yet again, but I can recognize, however reluctantly, that things happen. The heavens must curse our prearranged times together because it seems something will almost always get in the way of them. That's just life. That's just how it works, sad and annoying as that may be. 

A larger part of the fault for the hurt is mine, and I fully well know it. Given the history of life picking on us, I shouldn't have allowed my hopes to get so high that when they were crushed, I came streaking back, speeding because of the distance, and left a sizeable crater in my heart. 

But worse, I started wondering what it was about me that was so repulsive. Why didn't you want to spend time with me? What was it about me that makes seemingly no one want to spend more time on me than the precursory, if that? People at my church, when I attended meetings with other young, single adults my age, wouldn't give me more than the 'hi, I'm fine' when I tried to strike up a conversation and make friends before turning away and ignoring me. Though I've since moved and started attending different meetings, I still struggle to find someone to connect to that seems to not mind my company. I don't really hang out with people I work with that I consider friends outside of work, though I am hoping that this will change this coming year. I meet up with my best friend from high school as often as we can, which has been steadily increasing as of late, thank goodness, but beyond that.... Seriously, what is it about me that people find repulsive? 

I kept asking myself that all night. I cried myself to sleep. I asked myself that same thing again this morning. No more tears left in me for this. I was numb, but I'm starting to feel it again as I finish writing this up. 

I know I need to expand my circle. I need to find people who understand what I am dealing with, what I am going through, who will stand by me. I am trying to do that, but I struggle with even how to do that. I'm looking for support groups. I'm looking for people around me that wouldn't mind my inevitable funks (that are a lot easier to hide in person, I'll admit). It's just taking more time as I battle not only the depression that plagues my life, but the crippling shyness and social awkwardness that comes with who I am. 

And I'm struggling to convince myself that the repulsiveness... the thing about me that makes people run for the hills... is all in my head.... 

That's a rough one to overcome.... 

Heart-Racing "Fun"

I haven't written in more than a week in spite of my self assertions that I was going to make myself write more often, with a minimum of twice or so times a week. That way, if I so desire, I can look back over these in a years time or so and see how far I've come already and move myself forward. Or, at least, that's the plan. Who knows? Maybe while I'm at this, someone will stumble upon this blog and find it useful in their own trek (If that's the case, please leave a comment? I would love to know that putting myself out there like this might actually help someone out).

Anyways, it's been a bit of a crazy week, full of ups and downs, though the focus had been on the later as I worked my way through the week. I will **hopefully** do better.

No promises there.

After that ridiculously hard day where I was insanely close to loosing it, the trip to St Louis turned around to an extent. We still had problems with behavior on occasion, including a rather tearful meltdown the morning before we were checking out of our hotel to head back to Oklahoma because she wanted to stay longer than I had the funds for, but we got through it. I managed, surprisingly, to actually have some fun during the day, though the evenings and nights were still beyond hard, and was overall pleased with the upswing in both my emotions and the trip.

Of course, that had to change, as things do.

Have you ever been driving down the highway, going around 80 mph, and literally have your tire blow up on you? I wish I could join in the masses declaring "No! It's never happened to us. What you talking about? Are you insane?" but alas, I would be lying. Maybe blow up isn't the exact description for what happened, but that's pretty much what happened when we were approximately an hour away from my niece's home, where I intended on crashing that night before driving the rest of the way back home since my other plans more or less fell through.

She was sitting in the backseat, playing a game (not sure which one, I didn't recognize the music for it) on her phone, while I was singing along to the radio we had just managed about 10 minutes before to pick up again when it happened. I don't know what caused it for sure, but all of a sudden there was an extremely loud BANG, like something under my car just blew up, my car jerking harshly from the sudden burst of momentum that had come from under us. It was a miracle that I managed to keep any control at all, given that I was going 77 mph when it happened. Luckily, there wasn't anyone immediately around us either, so I could react in kind, regain what surprisingly little control I lost in that moment and get us off the road onto the shoulder.

At this point, my heart is going about a million beats a second on its own, and I have no idea what even happened. I had seen, in my periphery, a rather large piece of tired sheer off, but I had never seen it sheer off in such a piece like that before. I got off the road, threw my car in park and hit the hazards, turning around to check on my niece, who looked just as confused as I was, thought not nearly as shaken up as I was. She was okay, I was okay, we were okay, but what had just happened? Did I not see a piece of tire on the road and it got tangled up around my wheel and that's what made the noise and forced the car to jerk? I didn't think so, but for a long moment there, I couldn't process what had happened.

After a long moment of self inventory, checking on my niece and trying to figure out what was happening while trying to steady my heart rate, which had spiked to probably a dangerous place, I got out of the car, and started looking to see what had happened. Front Driver's tire was okay, good. I walked around the front of the car first, baffled. Had I hit something? No. No dents in the bumper, no smoke, nothing coming from there, Front passenger tire was good, and both back ones were good too.

What the fuck had happened?

I had gotten back to my door, completely confused, about to get in and keep going on our merry way, never to have an answer as to what had just happened. Clueless. Something I hated being, but as I ran my eyes down the length of my car, I saw it. I had been so focused on my tires, trying to see which one was now flat (surely that had caused the jerk) that I didn't pay much attention to the back of my car. My driver's side rear bumper was pulled away from my car. Confused, I approached it, still trying to figure out what happened while trying to make my mind work, and then noticed the rest of the damage.

The tire, amazingly, was still inflated, but the outer layer, the treads that were supposed to be on my tire, were gone. How it still held air in it, I haven't the foggiest notion. The edges of the tire were rough, showing that the piece of tire I had seen in my periphery as it happened had actually torn away from my own tire, and hadn't been something I hit, but the rest was smooth, just the inner tube that you fill with air. The explosion of the tire had been forceful enough to push off part of my rear bumper, and (thought I didn't see it until later, focused on the tire and bumper now as I was) crack my tail light while streaking a part of the side of my with black rubber.

Shaking, but now knowing what had just happened, and what could have happened (I'll admit here and now I didn't much care what had happened to me, but what could have happened to the seven year old in the back seat), I got back in the car, now worried about what to do. I have a spare, but I didn't fancy driving 30 down the interstate in the middle of nowhere. She asked what happened, and I explained, briefly, that we needed to fix the tire, but didn't give her any of the details, pulling out my phone (thank the heavens for 3G) and found a place that sold tires about 2 and a half miles away. Problem solved.

They suggested I picked up a nail, or the tire was a retread from the place I bought tires before, or something. Since I had just had the front tires replaced with brand new tires in February, I asked them to change both of the back tires. Sadly, as this was a smaller, local shop, they only had one of the size tire my car takes. I took it, and they got started while we waited. The inside staff even entertained my niece for a few minutes while I called her parents to let them know what happened.

They got us back on the road again within about 30 minutes, but that was no where near enough time to stop the shaking that was coursing through me. I drove home going below the speed limit, afraid that it would happen again and that time we wouldn't be as lucky. We made it back to her house after about another hour and a half, give or take, and that still hadn't been enough time to fully calm down.

I was scared.

How on earth was I going to drive home the next day? It's an even longer drive from her house back to my apartment in south Texas than it was from St Louis to her house. And there were less towns further apart along several patches of road. What was I going to do with 3 new tires and one older one that I was convinced was going to do the same thing?

My brother and sister in law had offered me their couch for a couple days if I had wanted to stay, and I gladly took them up on the offer. They lived closer to a larger city, so my odds of finding a place that could sell me a decently priced new tire to get me home the rest of the way safely was better. Though it pretty much drained the rest of the reserved money I had set aside in case of emergencies (though this was not the one I had in mind), I had two new tires.

Let me just tell you now, I left the day after I got my tire changed, so I could be home late late on Saturday night, early Sunday morning. I was still feeling tense and scared the entire way home. Throw that on a top of a definitive drop in my mental state and can you even imagine how draining that was? I was okay by Sunday afternoon, not nearly as nervous or scared when I got back behind the wheel to drive out to join my parents for a barbecue in celebration of an early Independence day. In retrospect, I probably should have stayed another day in Oklahoma to shake off the feelings there, but I needed to get back.

All in all, it made it hard when my emotional state dipped again just after that. My energy, my focus was elsewhere, and I didn't know what else I could do to bring my mind into a better place. I was struggling, and couldn't seem to shake it no matter what methods I employed. Even the talking myself up wouldn't shake the drained-induced (or whatever) bout I found myself in.

But... well. It made for a rather dark day, a long day really, of sleeping and resting for the larger part of Independence Day. I did get up and try to go see fireworks though, which was actually a plus on my end, since I had no desire to do so.

Points for that at least?

Overwhelming Day

A couple months ago, I started planning a trip for my niece and I this summer. It is my first chance to really get put and do something fun that requires some spending and advance planning. We settled on St Louis at the end of June, just the two of us, and I felt my excitement level picking up nearly every day as it got closer and closer.

I left my place in south Houston to pick her up from her parents in Oklahoma this past Friday. As planned, I spent the weekend with them and her little brother, checking out some of the things to do in the city. I took the kids to the aquarium on Saturday  so mommy and daddy can get some time to themselves, and joined them for church on Sunday, where I decided to make this blog and drafted the first post after listening to a lesson on trials (though the speaker wasn't talking about that. I guess it's just what I heard).  Niece and I left on Monday morning and arrived in St Louis that afternoon.

We went up in the arch yesterday evening and she clung to me at first. Though excited, she was afraid of the height. It was endearing at first, but was started to become a little trying when she started acting out in line, but once we climbed into the tram, the happy little girl I know returned and the night went peacefully. 

Now I love my niece dearly, don't get me wrong, but today? Everything was just too much. 

I slipped into a deeper darkness this morning and have since struggled to shake it. I was on vacation, it shouldn't have followed me here, right? Or I had my niece to think about. I can't feel like this when she's here ready to have fun at the City Museum, right? Surely getting up and getting going, moving forward will be enough to let me get a handle on things and today would get better right? After all I had been looking forward to this museum myself since I first read about it. It was going to be a blast.

I was wrong. 

St Louis' City Museum is amazing, and has so many interactive activities to explore works of art as you accidentally study different aspects of science (geology as you explore a man made cave that's ten stories high, gravity and motion as you run around in the indoor "skate" park, etc). I really was having a lot of fun at first, and had myself convinced today really was going to turn around. I would feel better tonight. 

But then it started unraveling. How do people fake it until they make it? I haven't figured it out and I really need to know..... Things  just started happening as soon as I got comfortable today, from misbehavior and a refusal to listen, to turning my ankle and smacking my head onto a bar, to a conversation with a friend that's left a horribly sour taste in my mouth and a burden on my heart, to more, and all of it just continued to drag on me and broke through my determined to be happy and enjoy myself facade. 

About 3:45 in the afternoon, I found myself sitting in the car, driving back to our hotel across the Mississippi, blinking back tears as I struggled not to start crying. I've made niece lay down to take a nap to try and combat her moody, obviously exhausted behavior, and had lay on my bed, feeling empty and lost all over again. What was I thinking, thinking I could handle going on a vacation like this?

I curled on my bed in misery, allowing the silent tears (didn't want to wake her up once she went down by bawling, which really might have felt good to let myself release) to stain the pillow cases for a while before I finally decided I had to try again. I had to. 

If I didn't, I was going to completely collapse and shut down, and then where would we be? 

I made myself get up and closed myself in the bathroom. My face was red, my eyes puffy but empty, my hair a sweaty haphazard mess, and in that moment, I hated everything about me. I hated my appearance, the fact that I'm 30 and feel as though as I've accomplished practically nothing in my life at this point, the fact that I'm 30 period. Most of all I hated all the thoughts running through my mind. If we hadn't been in a hotel, if my niece hadn't been sleeping in the other room, I might have tried breaking the glass with a hard punch to my blotchy, irritated nose and made other horrible choices with the shards.

I had to get it under control. 

Then I closed my eyes, forced myself into taking five deep-as-I-could-get breathes, slowly releasing each one. I washed my face with my deep cleansing cream and slowly repeated the deep breathes before allowing myself to look in the mirror again. I still saw everything I hated about myself in the mirror, but I was calmer, and could look a little past them in that instance. 

My bestest friend, Hope, had challenged me before to look inside when I'm feeling like this and find things that I like about myself. Well... challenge might be the wrong word, but now'she not the time. Though the fruits are hard to see because of the depth of the pit I'm am struggling to climb out of, I have tried this method before and it has soothed me during a rougher moment, especially when I've written down my thoughts to review later, but it's never had the power to pull me out of the cavern I was rapidly spiral down into. I had tried, but it hadn't even been able to slow the descent. I could never see anything I liked about myself that I didn't immediately start trying to rip apart internally, against my will.

Surprisingly, given how dark the thoughts and bitter the hatred, after the silent cry, those forceful calming breathes, and face washing, I could actually see things I liked about me. Things.... well, that helped me dig a little deeper to get a handle on myself. 

My eyes was the first one, though they were red and swollen at the moment, reflecting the emptiness I felt inside. The center of my irises were still the same light brown they always was, the outer edge the same dark blue, but the rest... a startling shade of blue that I love. A color that I rarely notice surfacing in the changing cycle that is my eye color. That alone brought a soft flutter of something there in my breastfeeding and I found myself looking for other things without having to coerce myself into doing it. 

The mental list was quickly up to ten in a matter of minutes, and I hadn't been trying to shut any of them down in spite of myself. I still don't feel good by any means, but I feel like the cavern I was careening down curved into a shaft with an updraft that blew me back up a little above the entrance to this hole.

So, Hope, thank you. I know I'm a horribly difficult person to deal with and be around when I'm getting these flare ups, but I appreciate you sticking by me. I appreciate your advice, and I'm sorry I don't seem to take them more seriously. This one, that I had all but written off during dark moments like these, has proved itself this afternoon. I can't say it will always work either, but if it can make this evening a little more bearable, and tomorrow a little brighter, then I'll take it. And I probably wouldn't have ever been able to do it if you hadn't introduced me to the idea and then made me practice, as if you knew this moment was coming someday. So really, Hope, thank you. For all that you do and so, so much more. 

Tomorrow will be a better day.

A Trek?

The word "trek", by definition, suggests a long, difficult journey that someone has taken up on ourselves. Most times, when a trek is mentioned, people are talking about some physical journey. Our ancestors have trekked  across oceans, mountains, plains and more to bring us access to more and more places in the world. In the future, our descendents will go on further treks and adventures as they carve out new places for humankind among the stars.

Not every trek, however, has to be physical.

My life is average. I am average. I am nothing special. I am not famous, or Hollywood beautiful, or important. There seems to be nothing unique in my life to distinguish me from someone else, and there hasn't been.

I know I am far from the first person to have suffered pain to my very core as I examine my life. I know my situation is far from the worst when we look around during at the injustices that plague our world. I'm probably the least qualified person to begin writing a blog like this, as my story doesn't have elements of interest see tragedy that I am set to overcome.

So why bother? Why am I writing this? Why am I putting myself out there, something I try to avoid like the plague?

Simple answer: I am determined to walk this path healing. While many would consider this a journey, a trip, a walk at best, to mr, this is going to be beyond difficult. I am setting myself up to hopefully overcome years upon years of personal abuse, degradation, hatred, and feelings of worthlessness to find an inner happiness, a personal peace, that I can carry with me through a life I can finally deem worthwhile. It is going to be hard, battling my own demons and confronting the person I despise the most. It's going to be hard going, overcoming all the things I have allowed myself on the path to failure and misery. The journey will be hard and I'll likely fail more often than I succeed, but I am hoping, praying, begging to overcome. Finally.

This is my own trek, my long, difficult journey.