“Maybe This Is Just The Way It Had To Be….All These Thoughts I Can’t Ignore, Thoughts That Whisper In A Quiet Roar”– Remedy Drive ‘God I Hope So’

**SELF HARM WARNING***

I had my ECT treatment yesterday….. about an hour into my sleeping when I got home, I received a text from my supervisor saying that the Director said she will keep me on staff at the same amount of hours until I find a new job, or they fill the new position. So I am happy in one sense, because I don’t have to continue to scramble to find something by July 1st and worry about new insurance (at this moment), but at the same time I am not happy at all. I feel a mix of emotions. I feel defeated and used. I feel as if they are only keeping me on because they want to help themselves….but yet I’m not good enough to keep on for the future…..only until I find a new job or they fill the new position. I feel angry. I feel alone, and I feel like none of this is for my own benefit at all. I can almost guarantee that if they find someone before I find a new job, they won’t give me notice, that’s just the way they are. As my title of this blog says though…….Maybe this is just the way it had to be. I don’t know, but I know I don’t like it. Honestly, I’m thinking of just walking. Just up and leave the organization and not worry about the medical bills and such until they come. But I know I can’t do that. I have to “tough it out” and take what I can get and be grateful for the opportunity to still be working while looking for another position. (Man I pulled those words out of my ass lol).

Tomorrow is Father’s day. I have a feeling it will be the last Father’s day we have with my dad’s dad, my grandpa. It hurts just to think about it. I can’t imagine life without him in it. I can’t imagine what it’s going to do to my dad, my grandma, ….all of us.

I’ve been having more self-harm thoughts/ impulses lately. More so the impulses…..as I have been dealing with the thoughts every day for a long time. The impulses though, those can be different. They are the moments I’m eating with a steak knife and all of a sudden wish I had used it on myself and not my food.  Or when I use a razor in the bathroom and it takes everything within me not to use it to intentionally cut myself. The stress from work hasn’t  been helping this either. I’m glad I had ECT yesterday though, because it helped to tame them down for now. They for sure aren’t gone, but it’s not the constant, overwhelming, ongoing impulses.

Do any of you ever just feel so down, so depressed, but so grateful and blessed all at the same time? I am going for a certification called CRSS, Certified Recovery, Support Specialist. Well, it costs $125 for just the test. It was $75 just in the application fee. Well, some people at my church, they are in my Adult Sunday School class, they had asked me last week how the process was going. I told them honestly I don’t have the money to take the test right now, so I’m hoping at some job interviews I can say I have applied and just have to take the test, and that the job would pay for it. Well, these people in my class, they responded with this, “We don’t have our checkbook today, but we want to pay for your test. We want to help you.” I received a check and a card on Wednesday this past week. I cried for a long time, I’m still baffled. I just can’t believe that they did that. That they saw enough hope, purpose, and whatever else within ME to want to do that. I mentioned in the last post I just don’t feel I have a meaning, a purpose, and I don’t feel much hope at all. The only thing I can be hopeful in is Christ, which really is all I need. I am so grateful for these people in my class, so blessed to know them, and just so thankful. I just am still having a hard time figuring out why they love me when I can’t and don’t even love myself.

I’m sorry this post probably means nothing to any of you. I just use this blog as more of a journal, a way to get things out and feel heard, but not feel like I’m going to be judged or get in trouble for what I have to say. I appreciate all of my followers, and I don’t know what I’d do without the comments, or likes you all leave me.

Thank you all.

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My Mind Is Racing And My Fingers Can’t Type Fast Enough To Keep up

Literally, the title of this blog is exactly what’s going on. Today at therapy the only way I could describe/ answer the question “how are you” was with the one worded answer of “crummy”. I have no other way to describe the tornado of thoughts and emotions that happen in my head throughout the days and weeks. I had an ECT treatment yesterday, the doctor asked how I was too, I told him I was struggling, and he asked if I wanted him to “up the intensity of the treatment”. I told him no because he was also telling me that it would make me more tired and forgetful for a few days, and I just can’t have that right now. SO for now we left the treatment where it was. It helped some, but this depression is getting worse. My psychiatrist is going to try a couple of small changes in my meds and see where that takes us, but I’m not the most optimistic about it. Truthfully, I’m not optimistic about anything in life right now………thus the depression.

I am so lucky to have the people at church that I have. I have specifically made friends with one couple, Michelle and Patrick. They’re my parents age, but they have given so much to me spiritually. The whole Adult Sunday school class has, but these 2, they have shown specific interest in me and my life and it means a lot to know I will be going into class and they will be there and they will mean it when they ask how I am, how my week was, and what has God been doing in my life? I feel comfortable with them. Talking with them, sharing with them. I truly believe God put them in my life for a reason, and right now that reason looks to be to give me something to look forward to each week and to give a fresh start to the week each week. I am truly grateful and blessed.

The self injury thoughts have been coming back……slowly but surely, stronger at some times than others. I say “coming back”, truly they never went away. I have had at least one thought of SI every day since the last time I engaged in it, but this, now? This is more it’s tied to my emotions, and my thoughts are more invasive and it’s getting harder to not engage in the behavior because honestly? I know it makes me feel better…..I know it works. At least for the short term/ in the moment. I know too, that it causes a lot of problems for me later. It leads to lying, betrayal, and feeling even worse than I already do. BUT like I said, it works in the moment to make the thoughts stop, to get the frustration out, to release the anger and to remind myself I am real, I am still here, that I have more control than my mind is leading me to believe. I just want it all to stop.

These are some of the thoughts going on in my head:
1. I’m worthless and no one, including myself, even know me.
2. People just pretend to like me while I’m around, if they really wanted to be my friend or were truly interested in me, they have my phone number or email at least and they could send me a message or call.
3. I’m ugly
4. I won’t ever succeed or meet my dreams– hell, I don’t even know what dreams I have.
5. The so called “dreams” I can think of, I’m not worthy of anyway.
6. I’m stupid
7. I’m unqualified– for everything I would ever want to do
8. I might as well be dead, because the way I’m feeling isn’t worth it either
9. I know my family would miss me, but I know with death, people manage to move on.
10. There is no hope in life
11. I’m not good enough
12. I just want people to like me……but how can they? I don’t even like me?

As you can see the list goes on…….I could keep going but no one wants to read a bunch of crap thoughts someone is having. I don’t even want to read it. I can give you reasons as to why each one of those thoughts is false, but the problem is I don’t believe it. I don’t believe in myself, and I don’t believe I ever can or will. I believe the world around me. I believe the words of others behind my back or the looks I get from people at times. I believe the way I am treated is a direct result of who I am. Why? Because people treat people the way they do based on what I know of them. People must not like me/ who I am because if they did I swear they’d treat me better. Now, there are people who treat me well. I can say I have a few friends. Like my friend Johanna. She’s someone who I don’t know what I would do without. She makes me laugh, let’s me bitch to her, and we both just vent whatever is going on. But I don’t have friends really around my age. I don’t have a boyfriend, and I don’t have a social life really outside of my family. I can say, I try my best to live a Christian life and treat others kindly no matter what because I don’t know what’s going on inside their heads, I don’t know what they hold in their pasts, and I will never know if I treat them poorly because that is no way to start a friendship. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand how so many people can say nice things about me, say I hold all these traits for good, but then just walk away and never contact me again. I don’t know what it is. Actually I do…….it’s ME…..they simply don’t like me.

I’ve wanted to cry the past week multiple times, but it was that feeling of I want to cry but I just can’t. Like my eyes just won’t let me cry right now. I don’t even know why I wanted to cry……other than the time I smashed my hand in seat of the car as it was sliding forward…..that was a legit reason to cry lol…..but seriously, I don’t know what’s going on. I’ve said it multiple times to my therapist, it’s as if the words haven’t been invented yet.

That’s all the words I’ve got for now…….talk to you all later.

“I don’t know”……Can’t That Be An Acceptable Answer?

My last post I told you all everything that had happened in the span of a week. Well….things haven’t gotten much better. My friend, the teenager who was pregnant, well, she lost the baby. I think it may be a blessing in disguise in many ways, but it’s still a baby and a life lost and that sucks. I feel bad for her in many ways.

My grandpa is still in the hospital, though he was transferred to a rehab facility to hopefully get him stronger so he could go home…..but it isn’t very hopeful he will ever go home. He just isn’t strong enough and grandma can’t take care of him and his mind just isn’t there. He rarely can even remember our names and he gets so agitated so easily. He’s a handful in the nicest of ways to put it. I miss my grandpa. The joker, the one who would laugh with us and make snide comments. I miss the guy who would tell us stories about his life growing up, and I miss being a kid that would get so excited to get a shiny penny from pa each time we’d go over to his house. I miss knowing he understands just how much I love him, and I miss knowing he believes it. I just miss the way it used to be.

My dad keeps asking me, “what’s wrong?” or “how you doing?” and all I can come up with to say is “I don’t know.” and it’s not a lie. I truly don’t know all the time what is wrong or why I feel the way I do…..or even what I’m feeling at all. It’s hard to describe, it’s hard to tell someone that on the inside you are just falling apart but you know you have to be strong on the outside for everyone else or else you’d for sure screw everything up. What I mean by that is if I were to let down my guard, I’d be crying all the time. I wouldn’t be able to focus, and I wouldn’t be able to work. I sometimes find myself driving and then I arrive at my destination and I have no clue how I got there because I was so much in my head instead of paying attention and being mindful of the car ride. I’m lucky I know, that I haven’t been in an accident. I sometimes find myself sitting at work not sure how I’m doing what I need to be doing or getting things done because my mind is not there. But I’m somehow holding it together because I don’t want this depression to win.

I had tried doing ECT treatments every 3 weeks for a couple of times, but just last week my psychiatrist and I decided now is not the time to be spreading them out and trying that. We had to go back to every 2 weeks again. I feel like a failure. I feel like I will never get to where I want to be, do the things I want to do……which honestly I’m not even sure what those things are, and I’m scared of my mind taking over my life. I feel as if I will never get any further than where I am now and I wonder if it’s even worth the effort of trying if failure is what will happen in the end. I just want to be normal, to not have these thoughts, feelings, and depression all the time. I just want to say I want to be alive and mean it. I want to be proud of me not just others be proud of me.

It’s a new year, and I just want it to be better than the past. I just want to say I matter, and believe it. I just don’t know when I’ll ever get to that point.

 

I’m not sure anyone is reading this…… 

For real, I only know of one person who actually reads this. I don’t get much feedback from anyone on here so it’s hard to tell how many people really are reading my posts. I suppose it doesn’t matter all that much, I just wonder sometimes is all I guess.

The past week and a half has been something else. Let’s just say,  I am really glad for all the supports I had during this time. Friday, May 12th, I finally took the step and went to the YWCA to meet with a counselor there to sign up for their survivors of sexual abuse group. I was terrified. I had been told about this group all the way back in October, but was just now able to make an appointment and go in. My last post was all about this meeting, so I won’t spend a lot of time going over it again. On the way to the meeting though, my boss decided to call me and tell me about a scheduling error I had made for that day. I felt dumb, useless. All I could tell her was I was sorry, I didn’t know how it had happened, and I would fix the schedule for the upcoming Friday’s when I got back to the office of Monday. She responded with a “Well I guess I’ll have to call and find people to come in today,” and all I could think was, “yeah, I guess so, because I’m not there and I can’t fix it from my car.” I feel like she called just to point out I had messed up, and that it caused her to have to take time time to fix it. I felt terrible, and honestly I thought about it all weekend. When Monday came along, I was so worked up, so anxious, I got to work and it wasn’t even 2 hours into my shift when I had to call my dad and tell him I was about to just start crying because I was so worried about what my boss was going to say to me about my mistake when we met in a little while. I just wanted to cry, run away from it all, even the thoughts of quitting my job came to mind. I know, I know, ridiculous, right? Everyone makes mistakes, and we all have to learn to deal with consequences and learn from them. Well, my anxiety and depression told me otherwise.

I didn’t run, I didn’t quit. I did go to the bathroom and cry, and I did stress out most of the day. The stressing out was noticed by a few of my co-workers, to which I just responded that I wasn’t feeling well and it was no big deal. Tuesday came and we had a speaker coming in to do a presentation that evening. I came in late for the day as I would be staying later in the evening. Again, I was stressing out. This time though, I really wasn’t feeling all that well. My cold/allergies were being wacko and I just couldn’t get my anxiety to go away. My boss noticed I wasn’t looking good, my face was red and hot, and I just wasn’t myself. She even told me I wasn’t looking so good.

After the speaker’s series, which no one showed up for, and we had to send the speaker’s away, I went home and just crashed into my bed. I woke up Thursday feeling ok physically, but so emotionally drained and beat that I called in sick. I told my boss I was physically sick. I was having physical symptoms, but I believe a lot of it was because of the level of depression and anxiety I was having. The same thing happened on Thursday too. So I only worked Monday and Tuesday last week, and took Wed/Thurs off (I have Friday off every week anyways).

I went to my psychiatrist on Wednesday, told her I felt terrible for calling in to work when I was only having emotional issues and not physical. She pretty much told me that “mental health” days are and should be treated just the same as “physical health” days. She told me she would write me a letter of necessity to give to my boss if I really thought I’d need it. She’s right. I shouldn’t feel bad for taking 2 days to just care for me, to give myself time to just BE.

Wednesday and Thursday came and went, and here I am at Sunday wanting, and not wanting to go to work tomorrow all at the same time. I know I should, I know I need to, but my brain and my depression is telling me to just stay home, stay in bed, and not do anything.

My psychiatrist raised one of my meds and we will be weening off of another over the next few months or so. So I know things will be changing and hopefully getting better. I just struggle, with my thoughts, with anxieties, and with depression. I just want it all to go away. I get tired of not knowing, not being able to describe, not having a definite answer to the question “What’s wrong?” or “What’s going on?” I know only one person who truly understands when I say the words for how I’m feeling haven’t even been invented yet. She knows who she is.

If anyone else reads this……how do you all get through the dark times? The anxieties? The depression? How do you all gain confidence in yourself? How do you know and believe you are worth it?

 

 

“A Journey Of A Thousand Miles Begins With A Single Step” – Lao Tzu

From the parking lot to the building was only a few short steps, but the one step it took to get in through the door was the biggest step I’ve had to take.

Yesterday I took one of the biggest steps I’ve had to take on my journey to recovery and healing. I finally took to heart what my co-worker told me about way back in October about the YWCA and all they have to offer for women survivors of sexual abuse. I have, for the last 6 months, kept his words and encouragement, and advice, in the back of my mind, terrified to call the YWCA and set up an appointment to do an intake and join their therapy/ Support group. I kept telling myself, “I don’t need that. I can do this with just my therapist, and I don’t need to put my full story out there to a bunch of strangers.” or “All it’s going to do is trigger me and make things worse.” Well, a couple of weeks ago I finally got to the point where I said to myself, “Maybe being around others who have experienced the same things and hearing their stories will help me. Maybe it will help me to feel not so alone, so ashamed, guilty, and dirty.” I picked up the phone and set up an intake appointment. Then I put it all out of my mind. Subconsciously hoping it might just all go away.

Yesterday was the day of my appointment. The week leading up to this appointment was full of anxiety, headaches, spacing out, and fear. I’m pretty good at putting on that mask of everything’s alright, and no one ever really truly knows what my mind is telling me, putting me through. There are even times I don’t even know. It’s like the words haven’t even been invented yet to describe the thoughts, the pain, the emotion in my head.

Yesterday came way too slow……but yet so fast. This past week was long, but not long enough either. I dreaded the appointment, scared of being judged, scared of being told my story wasn’t bad enough that I didn’t really need this group and I should just leave. I was scared I wouldn’t be believed, that the person wouldn’t really get it. Scared of, well, scared of how real it was all going to feel as I told the intake person my story, and my fears. I texted my best friend before the meeting, just to make sure she would be available when I was done, so if I needed to talk I would know she was there…….it brought a sense of peace and solace knowing she knew I was going into this meeting scared shit less and that she would be thinking about me and praying for me. I had this sense of not being alone and I can’t thank her more for that.

I told my dad about this meeting weeks ago, but I’ve been terrified to tell my mom, as I was scared it would upset her. I did finally tell her though right before I went to the meeting, she took it well, and I’m glad I told her about it.

I drove to the YWCA office. I got there early (go figure right? I’m early for everything) I sat in the parking lot with the music on in my car. I knew the music was playing but I didn’t hear it all at the same time. I couldn’t. I was so caught up in thoughts and fears and just didn’t know what I was doing. Should I stay? Should  I just go? I looked at the clock and it seemed as if the time wasn’t changing. I felt frozen in this moment, stuck in the fear, and yet feeling this overwhelming need to get out of the car and just do it. Just walk up to the building and go in those double glass doors. I sat there and I said a prayer. I said, “God, I don’t know why you put Mike in my life to tell me about this place way back in October, I don’t know why you finally put it on my heart to do this, and I definitely do not know why you have brought me to such an unknown and scary place. I do know though, that You are Great and will be with me the whole time. I know You won’t bring me to anything You can’t help me through, and I also know this sucks really bad. I am terrified God, just give me strength.” After I was done praying I got out of the car, stood next to it for what seemed like minutes when really it was probably just a few seconds, and I took those steps to the doors at the front of the building. The sun was shining down on my face and I could feel it’s warmth as I stood there, trying to lift my arm that felt like a thousand pounds, to open the door. I did it. I opened the door and I walked in. I stared at the receptionist and knew she was saying something to me, but I couldn’t hear her. I responded with a shaky “what?” and she asked me to sign in and have a seat, that she would let the counselor know I was there.

I took a seat on the fake leather chair and just looked around and took in my surroundings. I noticed my leg was shaking and my palms were getting a bit sweaty. I sat for what seemed like forever, though it was really only 5 minutes, and then Erin, the counselor came out to get me. She welcomed me, shook my hand, and told me it was nice to meet me. All I could think was “don’t say that too fast, you don’t even know me yet, you may not think it’s so nice after we get done talking.” I have a lot of doubts about myself. I have a hard time finding myself worthy of being liked by anyone.

We went to a small conference like room with two chairs and a small table and we started talking about the YWCA and generally what it is for, who it is for, and what the group I was looking to join was all about. Erin talked to me like she had known me for years, she listened to me as if what I had to say truly mattered to her. It’s not something I’m all that used to. I mean, my family and friends and my therapist they listen, and they care, what I mean is this person was completely new to me, and yet she still had such an interest in me, my story, and my experiences. I told her a lot about things that had happened, but not everything. I even said at one point, “I don’t want to answer that question yet, I don’t really know you well enough to go that deep.” and she accepted that answer as valid and said ok, that she completely understood that.

She understood that. Wow, she understood that I wasn’t quite ready, that I had limits. This was a realm of unfamiliarity for me. I felt this meeting to be completely  non-judgmental and safe. We talked for close to 2.5 hours about everything and going over intake questions and paperwork and all that. I left feeling exhausted, worn out, and just drained. The first group is on May 30th. I’m terrified, nervous, but looking forward to it at the same time.

Taking this step really wasn’t all that big, but the impact of it already has been huge and it can and might leave a huge impact on my process of healing from the impact of the sexual abuse of my uncle. I imagine this is a lot like sky diving. You jump out of a plane, free falling, you see the possibility of the bottom, and you have confidence your parachute will open and the landing will be standard/ easy, but there’s that standing fear of what if my parachute doesn’t open? What if when I land I get hurt? But you still take the jump, because you know it’s going to take you on a path you’ve never been on before, and it could teach you so much about life and yourself.

 

Dip Into Depression and……Do Others MAKE Us Feel Guilty? Or Do We ALLOW It?

I know that was a bit of a long title for a blog post…..and maybe I could have split it into 2 different posts, but I’m not, because the two things for tie together. At least at this point in time.

I’ve put it out there multiple times that I have a mental illness. Part of my diagnosis is depression and anxiety. Well, things over the last couple of months have gradually been going down…..and when I say “things” I mean my emotions. I have been slowly falling into a depression and I didn’t even really notice it until just last week when it really hit me hard. I do ECT (electro-convulsion therapy) on a regular basis, about one time per month to help with my depression and keep me stable. It is in addition to my medications and has helped to keep me stable. I am so grateful for these treatments as I have tried over 50 different medications and over 100 different combinations of medications and they, by themselves, were not helping me enough to be a functioning human being in the world. So we added the ECT to help supplement the meds and since we started the treatments I have been able to stay out of the psych hospital for over 4 years. I bring this up because in May we decided to spread out the ECT , from once every three weeks to once every four weeks. I didn’t think much of it, I thought it would be great. I thought what’s the big deal, it’s only one more week between it can’t effect me that much right? Well, looks like it did. I knew over the last 3 months I was having more days that I seemed to struggle, but I was able to manage and get through and all that. I let my psychiatrist know, but we left the ECT’s where they were at every four weeks because I seemed to be managing. I wasn’t quickly dipping into a deep hole of depression and becoming unstable. I was just having more negative thoughts and urges to self injure but I wasn’t engaging and I was like I said, managing well.

Well, last week things started to really drop for me. I started not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to shower, and sometimes not showering at all for a few days, I was seriously considering self-injury as an option, rather than just having passing thoughts that I was able to cope with, and I began having suicidal thoughts pop up …..no plans or anything, just thoughts that wouldn’t normally come up at the times they were coming up. My dad said I was more irritable, and I was having this overwhelming feeling of wanting to cry, but for some reason, I just couldn’t, like my body wouldn’t let me shed a tear. I had cancelled my therapy appointment for this past Tuesday over 3 weeks ago due to a training I had at work, so I didn’t see my therapist this week, but I did have an appointment with my psychiatrist. I told him what was going on and he decided to adjust my meds a little bit, but also move up my ECT appointments to every 2 weeks for awhile rather than every 4 weeks.

It’s hard living with depression. It’s hard living in this world in general. What makes it harder is when people say things to you that lead to feelings of guilt and shame. I am putting this in the same post as the other stuff because this person and her words are not only leading to feeling guilty and shameful, but those feelings are just compounding my depression. My mom had a hard life, most of her 7 siblings died before the age of 50 and her dad died when she was a baby. Her mom always told her she was the ‘good one’ that she made her feel so good when she was around her and stuff like that. In other words, my grammie had a way of saying things to my mom that led her to feel guilty, like she was never doing enough, that she had to be perfect. Well, my mom has started doing those things to me. Just the other day for instance, mom asked me if I wanted to go to a couple of stores with her. It was my day off of work and I was tired and I honestly just wanted to stay where I was on the couch and relax. I told mom I didn’t want to go, to which she responded by sighing loudly and saying “you never want to do anything with me, or go anywhere with me” and then she started crying and went upstairs got her shoes and proceeded to leave the house without saying goodbye. Her doing that, left me feeling really badly. I felt like I wasn’t good enough, that I was hurting her, that I HAD to go with her next time or else I’d upset her again. I don’t like upsetting mom or dad, or anyone for that matter. I know it’s not true what she said, but the way she said it and how she reacted, it made me feel like a really bad person for wanting to just stay home for the day. I know that sounds pathetic or whatever, but that’s how I felt. I wonder, is she MAKING me feel this way? or am I ALLOWING it to make me feel this way? I don’t like the feelings of guilt and shame, I feel like I have no control over them, but I in a way feel like I should have control over them. I don’t know, what do you all think? All I know right now, is that with the depression being where it is right now for me, this guilt and shame feelings are even harder to deal with, and I just want it to go away.

 

 

Changes Can Cause Us To Look At Ourselves, And Sometimes Make Us Feel As If We Have Fallen Behind……………

I just posted right before this about how my cousin had her baby earlier this week. I cannot even begin to express the amount of excitement, pride, and just joy this brings to not only me, but every member of my family. We are all so happy she is finally here. So happy she is healthy. So happy to have an addition to the family. Grandma is is just ecstatic to finally be a “GG” or Great Grandma. My Aunt and Uncle are so proud to finally be grandparents, and I am just so excited for my cousin, her fiance, the family, that we have a new addition to the family as a whole, and I’m excited to watch her grow up, become her own self, and to discover everything there is around her.

I have all this excitement, but at the same time I am finding myself looking at my own self, my own life, as a result of this new beginning and change. Please don’t get me wrong, I love this baby with all my heart, I am so so so happy to have her in this world, to be part of her family, and to have the opportunity to be part of her life. All I am saying is with all this excitement going on, I have started to look at where I am in my life compared to where my cousin (who is 2 years younger than I am) is in hers. I know, I know, we shouldn’t compare ourselves to others, but I have, and I wanted to just let it out a bit. I am 30 years old. I still live at home with my parents because I haven’t been able to work for a long time due to my mental illness. I just started a part time position about a year ago, and it is going really really well, I can only hope that eventually it will lead to a full time position and I will be able to make enough money to be on my own. Anyway, I don’t have a boyfriend, and like I said, I live with my parents. I spend my free time helping my grandparents and doing things for my parents, but I also have a couple friends I occasionally go to lunch with or spend time with. I also have found a new church home and have really been trying to become more involved there. I can’t complain about where I am in life, I am lucky to even be alive. I attempted suicide multiple times in my past and I have fought hard to get through all I have been dealt. I just naturally, as anyone would, wish I was further along. Wish I was somewhere else in my life. I wish I could meet the standards that society sets for where I should be at this point in my life. I wish I had a boyfriend, I wish I lived on my own, I wish I was at a point where I was starting my own family like my cousin. I guess in some ways you could say I’m jealous of my cousin. Jealous that she is where I want to be. That she doesn’t have a mental illness that makes life that much harder. I don’t really know where I’m going with this post. I just know that I wish my life were different. I know my story and my struggles have helped many people, I know this illness happening to me has it’s purpose, and I know I need to trust God and His ways and His plan for my life. I guess I just wanted to know, does anyone else ever feel like they are behind where they should be in life? Am I alone in this feeling? Is it wrong to feel this way?

I absolutely love Abby, the new baby. I cannot wait to be able to hold her and love her, and spoil her. I cannot wait for all the life lessons I can teach her, and even more so the life lessons she will most likely teach me.