Tag: mental health

I loved you, but I love myself more.

thirtyandcountingLeave a comment

I am worried about you.

I know you’re not going to believe that. I know you’re going to read this and immediately be filled with anger towards me. I know that, but I can’t stop being worried about you.

You aren’t healthy right now, and you need help. I know that nothing I say is going to make you realize that unless you want to realize it. The things you are saying, the things you are accusing me of, they are not true. I know they are real to you and I don’t want to invalidate anything that you’re feeling, but I also can’t keep receiving messages from you calling me names, swearing at me, accusing me of things that I would never do. Things that you know I would never do. Or at least…the *you* I knew…or thought I knew.

I am afraid for you.

Your mental health is important, and YOU are important. You deserve to get healthy, but that starts by realizing that you’re sick. It’s more than just depression. It’s more than just anxiety. You have lost touch with reality. I have watched your decline and it is heartbreaking. You come up with these paranoid ideas and no matter how much logic is argued, you cannot snap out of these delusions.

Your thought patterns and your speech are disorganized. You’ve said it yourself, there are times where nothing you say makes any sense. It’s hard to follow and impossible to understand. You are not making logical connections and you lash out at the people who love you the most.

You aren’t taking care of yourself. You don’t eat properly, you don’t follow a routine in your day, you sleep either not at all or way too much. You don’t take your medication properly, you don’t attend your appointments, and you don’t take any responsibility for your own actions.

I am afraid of you.

You aren’t a violent person, but if you had asked me a year ago, I wouldn’t have thought you were this person either. I never would have thought I would be in this position, receiving these messages from you, broken and alone and defeated by you.

Your behaviour has been escalating for months. It started with arguing with me over texts. It progressed to yelling, name calling, and accusations. It advanced to door slamming, silent treatment, throwing things. It developed into erratic driving, stopping on train tracks, throwing my seat back in the car. I got out of my own vehicle and walked two hours home because I was too scared to be in that car with you for one moment longer.

Who is taking care of you? Without me bringing you food, you aren’t eating. Without me making your doctor’s appointments, you aren’t going. Without me picking up your medications, you aren’t taking them.

I know it’s only a matter of time until you find a new woman to take care of you…and I only hope she can do a better job than I did. I am not stupid enough to think that I am unique. I am not stupid enough to think that I am the first one to put this much effort into you, and I’m not stupid enough to think I’ll be the last.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t want to give up on you, but I know you don’t want my help – or anyone’s. You won’t accept help when it’s offered, and you won’t make the effort to find it on your own. You will continue to blame everyone else for all the problems in your life. For now, it’s all my fault. Before me, it was your mother’s fault that you were homeless. Before that, it was your brother’s fault that you lost everything.

Any help that I try to provide will continue to be turned around on me. I’m the crazy one, I’m a sociopath, I’m dangerous, I shouldn’t be alone with my kids, you’re fearful for your life around me. This is all part of the reality you have created in your head – but it’s not the reality where the rest of us live.

All of the energy I spent on you was taken away from me and my kids. All of the effort I used trying to get your help could have and should have been used on myself. I know that I have my own problems to solve, and I’m solving them. I have a fantastic support system, I see my doctor regularly, I take my medications, I love the crap out of my kids and they know it. I have always said that I am their safe space, but I haven’t been lately. I’ve been focusing on being your safe space, and I won’t do it anymore. Everything I have done to try to help you, you have twisted it into acts of malice or whatever else supports the reality in your head.

So, this is me walking away. Even now, even after everything you’ve said and done to me and my girls, I’m still trying to help you. I’ve been trying to find ways to get you the support you need, even if it isn’t what you want. But it’s not my job anymore – it never was. You are a grown man and you have made your choices. So I’m withdrawing my support.

I hope that you do get the help that you need. I know the man you are underneath all of this…or at least I thought I did. Maybe I just knew the person you wanted me to know. Maybe none of him was real, and maybe this has been the real you this entire time. I’ll never know, and that’s okay.

I know the real me, and I’ve missed her.

Quarantine Fun!

thirtyandcountingLeave a comment

What have you been doing to stay safe/sane/entertained during this bizarre piece of history?

I’ve been going through phases where I’m like… Oh my goodness, I can’t handle this, I need to leave my house, I need people, blah blah blah. I go through phases where I’m like… This is not so bad, I can rearrange my living room, I can redo my bathroom, etc. Really depends on the day, but I think it’s like that for everyone. I’m in frequent communication with my friends through texts and phone calls, so that definitely helps.

I’ve been playing my guitar a lot more lately. Although I mean, I’m working from home mostly so I’m looking right at it. And when I rearranged my living room I put up our three ukuleles and the child-size guitar. Two of my guitars are in my room, so that leaves one guitar without a hook. So it’s currently leaning against a chair in my living room. I am sitting on the floor in my living room with my work computer on the coffee table in front of me. And I’m alone which often results in singing ridiculous narrations of my daily life. Might as well as some music to it!

I’ve been going through my music. I have a binder full of songs I’ve collected over the years, so I’m playing through some nostalgia for sure. I also finally got my printer working again (since I have mountains of grade one homework to print out every day), so I’ve been adding to my collection of songs from different artists and genres to play. I’ve also been writing a lot more music – the aforementioned ridiculous narrations of my daily life.

I’ve been going back into the office a few days a week. I was scared to go for awhile, but also kind of scared to stay home? Anxiety is never fun. In my head I’m like…if I go into the office I will absolutely get the virus; if I stay home they will think I don’t need to be at work and I’ll get laid off. It was definitely tricky to try and balance that out in my head.

But I am glad I’ve started going in more. I’m not going every day, but honestly it’s so nice to actually have a reason to brush my hair and put on paints with a non-elastic waistband and go into the real world. My workplace is being really good with physical distancing and people are constantly bathing in hand sanitizer. So it’s safe, and it’s so nice to talk to humans. It’s nice to be able to text with friends, but having an actual out-loud conversation is really satisfying.

My kids are somewhat adjusting to this strange time. It’s still really hard for them – especially the older one – but we’re working on it. We’re doing school stuff when we can, but I’m trying not to stress out about it. It doesn’t get done at her other parent’s house, so I was really stressed about having to do 2x the work when she’s here. But you know what? We’re just going to do what we can do. She’s a really bright kid so I really don’t need to worry about her falling behind that much. Besides, we have the entire summer to work on it.

Last night after dinner we were playing outside. My girls were racing each other up and down the street. It was not a fair fight. Izzy’s friend was playing outside too, across the street. So they ended up both grabbing little child-sized chairs and sitting right at the edge of their properties, and had a conversation across the street. It was so interesting to watch. The girl across the street said, “Izzy, have you heard about this COVID-19?” And Izzy goes, “Yeah, I HATE it!” And they had this entire conversation. Whereas at a “normal” time they would have been running back and forth between houses, playing with dolls or on our trampoline. I think it was nice for my daughter to actually sit down and have a conversation with a peer. It was fun for me to watch, anyway.

I’m in the midst of adjusting medications as well. Not the best time for it, really, since I’m at home by myself most of the time. But it’s going well.

I’ve also been crocheting a wardrobe for an army of tiny dolls. My youngest is apparently a fashion critic though, as one dress I made was not good enough for her favourite baby. She goes, “It’s a bit cuddly. She needs a smaller dress so she doesn’t get too warm.” So particular, these kids. It’s fun though.

And in these times you really figure stuff out, you know? Who’s important to you, who thinks you’re important to them. Who doesn’t think you’re important to them. It’s kind of like a reset button.

(Covered the faces of my coworkers because not everybody wants their face plastered all over the Internet.)

(in)Significant Other

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Significant

sig – nif- i – cant

/siɡˈnifikənt/

adjective

  1. sufficiently great or important to be worthy of attention; noteworthy.
  2. having a particular meaning; indicative of something.
  3. relating to or having significance.

Insignificant

in – sig – nif – i – cant

/ˌinsiɡˈnifəkənt/

adjective

  1. too small or unimportant to be worth consideration.
  2. meaningless.