The birthday blog
I hadn't realized that it's been 6 months since I wrote. I knew it had been a while but just not exactly how long. I apologize to anyone who isn't family who had been following along, but don't worry, I'm going to recap things and get everyone up to speed.
So Christmas was difficult. It happened on a Monday, so of course I had to work it. And there was a situation involving someone else who went missing for a day but I won't go into details since it doesn't matter anymore, but at the time the situation was very tense.
Fast forwarding a bit now, because at the moment I don't remember what, if anything happened in the intervening months. My daughter that we had given up for adoption was graduating from college and invited my wife and I to her graduation. Of course my wife was going. I... had issues. Not with my daughter, not like that, I love her as much as my other children. This took me some time to figure out, on an interrupted therapy schedule.
Therapy was thrown off course because I got suicidal. Like, I had a plan and everything. I was not in a good place. My meds weren't working well. I was drinking more often. My self esteem had dropped off the bottom of the chart, dug a hole in the ground, and headed for the center of the Earth. And now this is going to be a bit graphic. You see, since I had my spleen surgery, I have a numb spot on my belly. And my abs right under them, I can't control them anymore. My plan was to take my long, sharp carving knife, make it super extra sharp, and stick it in upward through my numb spot at an angle to try and skewer or at least nick my heart. Yeah, I had so much self-loathing that I wanted to stab myself and bleed out, as opposed to just OD'ing on any of the plethora of prescription drugs at my disposal, for example.
Needless to say, my therapist was not happy with this line of thought. She convinced me to go the to the local crisis unit for 3 days for intensive counseling and observation. Totally voluntary, could leave at any time. Changed my meds a little, learned a couple of coping skills, and I was done. For the most part I have stayed above-board emotionally since then. My therapist and shrink are both pleased with my progress. I even came to terms with why I didn't want to go to my daughter's graduation.
It all came down to self esteem. I felt like a fat, ugly, unlovable mass of negative emotions. We would meet and she would see me for the sham of a person I am. How could she love me, for all my faults and issues? As it turns out, this is called projection, and I was projecting my feelings about myself on her. Evidently I do this a lot. It contributes to my anxiety. That's part of why I don't like going out, I don't want to see people reacting to seeing me, or at least what I perceive as that.
And then we come down to today, my birthday. I'm 46 today. Not a landmark birthday in any way. I decided that I was going to take it easy today, be carefree and happy-go-lucky, not let things bother me. And my anxiety said, HELL NO MOTHERFUCKER! LETS GET THAT HEART RATE GOING! YOU LIKE HAVING THE SHAKES? YEAH YOU LIKE THAT, DON'T YOU, BITCH? REASON? WHAT REASON? WE DON'T NEED NO STINKING REASONS!
So I've had these pills for anxiety since my stay in the crisis unit. Never taken one before today. Honestly I was a little afraid of them and what effect they might have. They turned out to be fairly mild, made me a little dizzy but then so did the anxiety. And I guess they work, I'm still here at work.
So Christmas was difficult. It happened on a Monday, so of course I had to work it. And there was a situation involving someone else who went missing for a day but I won't go into details since it doesn't matter anymore, but at the time the situation was very tense.
Fast forwarding a bit now, because at the moment I don't remember what, if anything happened in the intervening months. My daughter that we had given up for adoption was graduating from college and invited my wife and I to her graduation. Of course my wife was going. I... had issues. Not with my daughter, not like that, I love her as much as my other children. This took me some time to figure out, on an interrupted therapy schedule.
Therapy was thrown off course because I got suicidal. Like, I had a plan and everything. I was not in a good place. My meds weren't working well. I was drinking more often. My self esteem had dropped off the bottom of the chart, dug a hole in the ground, and headed for the center of the Earth. And now this is going to be a bit graphic. You see, since I had my spleen surgery, I have a numb spot on my belly. And my abs right under them, I can't control them anymore. My plan was to take my long, sharp carving knife, make it super extra sharp, and stick it in upward through my numb spot at an angle to try and skewer or at least nick my heart. Yeah, I had so much self-loathing that I wanted to stab myself and bleed out, as opposed to just OD'ing on any of the plethora of prescription drugs at my disposal, for example.
Needless to say, my therapist was not happy with this line of thought. She convinced me to go the to the local crisis unit for 3 days for intensive counseling and observation. Totally voluntary, could leave at any time. Changed my meds a little, learned a couple of coping skills, and I was done. For the most part I have stayed above-board emotionally since then. My therapist and shrink are both pleased with my progress. I even came to terms with why I didn't want to go to my daughter's graduation.
It all came down to self esteem. I felt like a fat, ugly, unlovable mass of negative emotions. We would meet and she would see me for the sham of a person I am. How could she love me, for all my faults and issues? As it turns out, this is called projection, and I was projecting my feelings about myself on her. Evidently I do this a lot. It contributes to my anxiety. That's part of why I don't like going out, I don't want to see people reacting to seeing me, or at least what I perceive as that.
And then we come down to today, my birthday. I'm 46 today. Not a landmark birthday in any way. I decided that I was going to take it easy today, be carefree and happy-go-lucky, not let things bother me. And my anxiety said, HELL NO MOTHERFUCKER! LETS GET THAT HEART RATE GOING! YOU LIKE HAVING THE SHAKES? YEAH YOU LIKE THAT, DON'T YOU, BITCH? REASON? WHAT REASON? WE DON'T NEED NO STINKING REASONS!
So I've had these pills for anxiety since my stay in the crisis unit. Never taken one before today. Honestly I was a little afraid of them and what effect they might have. They turned out to be fairly mild, made me a little dizzy but then so did the anxiety. And I guess they work, I'm still here at work.
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