Social media is great… especially for people like me who are introverts, but want to keep in touch.
But it gets to be too much sometimes. So I step away. I put my phone on do not disturb, so I don’t constantly see notifications, and I just write, rest, or spend time in nature.
In the process of hurting my back, and doing the things needed to get it healed up, I was sort of forced into a break, but I slowly realized I was needing one anyway.
If you know my story, then you know I struggle with mental health diagnoses, and as much as I would love to be “even keel”, and emotionally leveled out, the fact is I’m not that way.
I’ve been working on my #jeepminicamper and that has been a source of accomplishment, and also a way to distract my mind from morbid thoughts, unrealistic fears, and some depression.
The thing about mental illness, for me anyway, if I don’t manage it right, all of the things I do to distract my mind, come creeping back up if I try to pretend that they aren’t there. So I just deal with it. I put myself in the very present, noting the things around me, what I’m doing, or not doing. What is actually real, and not some illogical thought process that is stemming directly from a ptsd symptom, or a cloud of oppressive depression.
It’s hard. It’s just hard some days. I get tired. I get frustrated, I get angry, I cry. I question everything, I question my life’s worth, I question my worth as a human being, I even guestion the things that bring me peace, wondering if I’m even worth peace.
Those things are the trickery and deception of mental illness. It comes to steal kill and destroy. Destroy families, destroy relationships, friendships, and in worst case it will take your life.
How social media forces me to step away, and the (my) cycle of mental illness.
I’m hyper vigilant…this stems from a home invasion, and domestic violence. But that hyper vigilance seeps into other areas… and compounds symptoms. If I’m going through a cycle of depressive episodes, that hyper vigilance will look for everything that is depressing in my life… logical? Absolutely not, but that’s the cycle some days.
So today’s ramblings are what I’m currently struggling with. I share because I know I’m not alone in struggling with mental health… although I am physically alone, I still want to be open and share, because someone else needs to hear that they are not alone.
You are not alone.
I may not be the best to talk to all the time, but I will listen, and be an ear. Sometimes that’s all a person needs.
So with that, I’m peacin’ out for today.
Thanks for listening. I’m working on a podcast, but it’s new territory for me, so please be patient. Also, please share, like, subscribe if you feel inclined, I would truly appreciate it.
THE LAST 2 DAYS HAVE BEEN A “WORK MYSELF INTO EXHAUSTION” EVENT. PTSD, MDD were kicking my butt.
The last 2 days have been a bit rough on the mental health side of my life. I started struggling on Saturday because it was my brothers birthday and I don’t know where or if he even “is”. He’s been gone for 12 years.
Major Depressive Disorder is described as having feelings of hopelessness, anxiety, irritability, and morbid thoughts, just to name a few. As described HERE via Mayo Clinic.
(click on any underlined word to get more details and descriptions.)
The mental health diagnoses that I have cycle. I’ll be good for a few days, then it’s like the dark cloud of doom arrives. I cry for no reason, feel like I have failed my family and friends, feel guilty for things that I haven’t done wrong, feel like I’m ugly, like my body is too fat, or that I walk funny. I understand where these feelings come from, logically, but I can’t stop them from happening.
So I cope. If the weather is nice I go outside. I go outside as much as possible to get out in nature and away from people and town anyway. These last few days, the weather has been nice and I poured myself into my Jeep mini camper project. I worked on hanging a new cattle panel gate that needed some adjustments. I got the tractor out and pulled up unnecessary t-posts to ready for new electric fence line. I moved a round bale in preparation for when Sadie finishes the current one.
I bashed my hand when the ratchet slipped off of a bolt… THAT hurt like a little whiney bitch…had to do some breathing to get through that. Whacked my ankle with the end of a log chain that I was using to pull up t-posts… that one hurt too. I’m a clutz sometimes.
The physical pain of those things oddly allows me to direct my emotional pain into something that I can deal with. I don’t hurt myself on purpose, but when I do, it’s like there’s something tangible for me to work through. A few years ago, I had picked up an unhealthy coping skill of intentionally hurting myself. I know, that’s not good, and I was able to work through that with my therapist and I do not do that anymore.
Working myself into a dither is a thing I do sometimes to get emotions out. It’s probably not the healthiest, but I am in fairly good shape for my age, so it doesn’t “hurt” me, and allows my mind to shut the fuck up, and my body to expend energy, and I get shit done.
The joy from these past few days? When I’m out at the ranch working on things, I let Sadie out for her walkabout. She’s got 180 acres she can run around on. I sometimes just sit and watch her, and she’s always watching me and what I’m doing. When she’s feeling her oats, she’ll take off and just run…. I love to watch her do that with her mane and tail flying in the air. One of these times I’ll get it on video, but most of the time I just smile and it fills my heart with joy.
Also all of our cats at the ranch… they are like little dogs, following me around, hanging out in my jeep when I’m working on it. That brings me joy as well. The birds singing, the crow I’ve befriended caw-cawing at me to bring him or her a snack. The other night I had my jeep set up enough for me to stay in it, and I opened the back hatch, watched the sunset with no interference from buildings, and after the sun went down, heard the coyotes singing the song of their people.
Even though I’m physically exhausted, I feel somewhat emotionally calmer. Or not as depressed and not having as many morbid thoughts, like I’d be better off not on this planet.
My therapist and I have worked out coping skills for when this happens, and these are a couple of them. In almost 8 years of therapy with the same trauma therapist, I know now that I will never be able to eliminate these mental health issues. (Ptsd, cptsd, mdd, bpd, gad, and tbi from head trauma). So we’ve set up a list of ways I can cope, with protocol when things get really bad and all of the tools in my toolbox aren’t working. I have crisis on speed dial.
And that is ok.
Accepting myself the way I am now, is something that I am still working on, but getting better. It does get frustrating to know that this is just the way I am, and that I will have to always have these cycles of ups and downs, morbid thoughts, anxiety, flashbacks, etc.
It just gets tiring sometimes. Some days I’m so tired of fighting it. So so tired.
But I’ve been given another day on this planet. So I’m accepting it with a grateful heart, and taking it one hour, one minute at a time.
If you or someone you know is struggling with crisis, or suicide, please text 988 for immediate help. 988
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Trigger Warning! Mentions of r*pe. I lost my virginity to r*pe. ***NOT FOR CHILDREN***
This is hard to write. Even though I’ve written about it before and have mostly processed the details, when I bring it to the forefront of my mind, all the feelings of humiliation, embarrassment, and pain all come back at once. I’ve worked hard to bring my logical mind forward in this instance, and not let my irrational mind take over. But it’s still a struggle.
When I was 17, my friend and I got permission from our parents to drive to Colorado to go visit some friends. I didn’t really think I would know anyone other than one person, but it was set to be a fun time, and my first ever trip as a “grown up”. Ha, I say that lightly, because I was far from grown.
We left and drove all night, listening to silly music (think “Do the mashed potato” or whatever it was called), and made it to our destination safely. I can’t remember what town it was, Estes Park? Not sure…I’ll probably remember later after I write this post.
When we arrived we walked into a fairly loud, filled apartment with music playing and laughter. I thought, ok.. this is going to be fun. I quickly realized that we were the only two females there. No worries, I had hung around with guys with no issues, and it was comfortable because they didn’t care if I wore makeup or had on the latest fashion trends.
We started drinking beer and just hanging out. I felt safe and was having a good time.
At some point my friend said she was tired and was going to go to bed. I felt the same, and was planning on crashing on the couch. Earlier in the evening I had seen one person that I new, who lived in the town that I lived in. I thought, cool.. I know three people now, my friend I came with, and her friend, and now this person….As I was getting ready to try to lay down and sleep, this person, man, asked me if I was coming with him. I thought, ok, he’s got a better place than the couch to sleep, and assumed with much naïveté that was what was going to happen.
We went to a bedroom to the back and he said that there was a makeshift bed on the floor at the end of a water bed that I could sleep on. I thought, cool… the rest of the crew was still partying and it was quieter in here. So I laid down.
Then he laid down next to me. I asked him what he was doing, and he said he was going to sleep here with me because it was quieter. I thought, well, ok. I knew the guy, nothing was going to happen, and the place was crowded with people. Male and females can sleep in the same bed together as friends and not do anything. That is what I thought at the time.
The next few minutes are traumatic. Traumatic to even think about, remember, and feel. He quickly started groping me, grabbing my breasts roughly and trying to kiss me. I told him no, that I didn’t want to do that and he said, “I won’t do anything, we’ll just snuggle”. Something in my mind realized that I was in trouble.
At this point he was on top of me, and had my arms and hands pinned down. I struggled to get away but could not over power him. He then held me down, and somehow got my jeans and my panties off, and forced his penis inside of my vagina, all the while holding me so I could not get away. I kept saying “No, I don’t want to, Stop, No”. But he told me to be quiet and just “relax”.
There was a point in time where my mind left my body, and I went into a dissociative state. I stopped fighting him, and checked out. What he was doing to me was rape, and somewhere in my mind I knew that.
I was a virgin. I lost my virginity to rape. I lost my virginity to rape. I say that twice because this was not what I was told how sex should be, and part of me is still angry, and sad about it. But because of my other traumas, issues, inability to recognize what “things” were about, this is how it happened.
There is talk about fight or flight state, but there’s also a “freeze” state. It happens in animals as well, I’ve seen it with horses who have been abused when they can’t run, or fight, they freeze. This is what happened to me. I froze.
Here’s where the victim blaming kicked in.(Underlined link cited). I thought it was my fault because I had chosen to drive to Colorado and go to the party. I had not said “no” when he initially asked me to “come with me”. I thought it was my fault because I had drank some beers, but was far from drunk. I thought it was my fault period. And I made excuses for my self to self soothe at the time, because I didn’t know what else to do. I told my friend (who was a female, and who I had driven with) about it, but left out certain details, like how I kept telling him no, and that I didn’t want to do it. I made it sound like “I wanted it”. Deep down I felt like a failure, I felt violated, my body physically hurt, I had bruises on my arms and wrists. But I shared none of that.
Another way predators keep their victims in line; the man that did this to me would come around and continue to rape me. And I let him, because he was “nice” and he showed me attention, but only in the form of forcing me to have sex with him and telling me that it would ruin his life if I said anything. I was being groomed, and didn’t even know it.
It wasn’t until YEARS later that I was able to assimilate what had happened to me, and to forgive myself. It WAS NOT MY FAULT. I did not ask for it, and it was done against my will.
I lost my virginity to rape. I can never get that back. I can never recreate a loving relationship and have a do-over. It set the stage, along with other traumas, for many future dysfunctional relationships for me, and at least three other rapes. I had no idea how to love in a healthy way. Then I turned to substances when the emotional pain got to be too much, and my previous post (click here to read that post if you want) shared one of those occasions where unhealthy coping skills could have killed me.
I share this now because I understand the psychology behind the things that happened. I don’t feel like it was my fault anymore. The feelings of embarrassment, and shame do sneak in now and then, but I’m still human, still a work in progress. But it’s getting better.
I recently became aware of someone that I know, who has been struggling with addiction and mental health issues. This is close to my heart.
I have struggled my entire life with depression and suicidal thoughts. (Since the age of 9). This is close to my heart, because I have made it through the rough parts. But not without work and many failings and falling down.
When I found out about this person, I wrote a poem for him. He is no longer with us, and I wish I had paid closer attention, because I KNEW there was something going on behind the scenes. I saw it in his eyes. Lesson learned, I’m going to ask, friend, or foe, if I see something. If they reject, then Ok, but at least I tried.
Below is the link to the poem I wrote. I have a couple of sites, and try to publish poetry, writing etc, on two major sources, here and Medium.
Rest In Peace.
Please click the picture to read the poem. It’s a safe link, I will never post a link that is unsafe.
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