Vocabulary Vixen

July 8, 2009

Falling… into place…

Things in my life are beginning to fall into place. This is an amazing feeling for me, and I’m definitely okay with things sort of lining up for me. The planets are aligning properly, the sun and stars are smiling on me, and I’m just okay. It’s been awhile since I’ve felt this… okay.

Life is okay for me right now. I had a lot of bullshit to work through, but I’ve done it, and I think that the snakes and vines that had me in a tight, squeezing grip are going to begin to loosen. I still have to monitor the brain chemistry side very carefully, and figure out how to do that and how to cope with life in general, but I’m getting there. I’ve got a lot of wonderful people in my life that have helped me out thus far.

I feel that my most recent work on myself is the turning point in my battle with the illness. This is a battle that I have fought long and hard on for ten full years. Actually, over a decade now. A whole decade. A full ten years of having these weights on my soul. Even in the okay moments, those weights were always back in the dark recesses of my mind, waiting for a vulnerable crash when they could all come spilling out and launching an assault on me. Now, though, I’ve taken out those dark, gritty recesses and exposed them to air and light. The darkness is slinking away, and for once, I am in control. I can deal with this. I will deal with it. Y’know why? Because I finally dug deep enough to recognize what the patterns actually were in my life, and then, several months later, I dealt with the roots of those problems head-on. In-the-face, full-on smackdown of my issues.

I slowed down long enough to take the time to deal with this all. Granted, it had to begin on my last cycle and bout with PMDD, which came FIVE DAYS EARLY. Bitch. Yeah, so guess who didn’t know something was here five days earlier than anticipated and didn’t take the meds? Oops. Yeah, that was fun. I care not to delve into detail here. What goes on during the fights and crappy times will not be made public on my blog. The nuclear PMDD blowout aftermath led the way for more thought later on, though.

Then I got to dig deep. I dug so deep it hurt. It hurt all over. My soul hurt. But it was a hurt long forgotten and buried by my tendency to run away from life by immersing myself in 100 activities at a time. And I cried. I cried, cried, cried, cried my soul out, and then cried some more. This wasn’t an awful crying, though. It wasn’t the crazy crying. It wasn’t due to a chemical imbalance and all of the bad and evil in the entire world spilling from my brain onto my pillow, or into my wrists. This was a healthy cry. It hurt. It hurt so much that it hurt some more. It was the heart-wrenching, uncontrollable, hiccuping sob that only happens in a healthy cry. It wasn’t sanctimoniously angry. It was a cry that was angry that I’d been hiding for so long, sure, but it wasn’t the kind that would send me off the edge in a frenzy to end the pain and cut myself. It was the pain that I’d been running from and hiding from for so long. It was the pain that I’d been trying to avoid, and in the process, ended up on a lot of medication over the years and spent a year of therapy trying to get to. I knew it was healthy. It was grief, yes. Grief for time lost in my own disease. Grief for my granny, who died a year and three months ago that I hadn’t ever gotten out to see. It was acknowledging how much mental illness hurts, and how those left in the aftermath are adversely affected. I cried for myself. I cried for my mom. I cried for my husband. I cried for everybody that I had ever put my issues on. I cried for my dad. And I just finally let it all out.

My poor husband couldn’t do anything for me. He was frustrated, but the only thing that I required of him was that he hold me. I cried into him. He was sad to see me like this, but I explained several times over that this was a good thing, and that once I was through it and had fully grasped and dealt with myself and my situation, things would be better. I just had to get it out. I think I spent at least three days semi-existent at work. So semi-existent that I was exactly half a level above completely worthless. Yes, I was there all puffy-eyed and alien-like. I blamed that one on my allergies. Any coworkers, friends, or customers that may be reading this and didn’t know better? Yes, I lied. But it’s not right for me to bring my issues into the workplace and treat everybody as my therapist. I’ve got one, and she’s a damn good one, and that’s what she’s there for. I know that it’s taken a good three weeks to return to full functionality. Three weeks, a lot of ritalin, and a lot of caffeine to bring myself back to a happier, stabler state in my life.

And for now, I’m there. And I’ve got a new purpose and pursuit: Mental WELLness. For the first time in all of this, I’m finally gaining a foothold on this thing, and I am also gaining ground. I have reached my own personal Gettysburg. My turning point. I am now actively working on finding peace and happiness in my life. I think that for a long time, I was scared. Of everything, yes, but I was scared of life. I was scared to tackle these issues. I was scared to exist without them. I was scared to exist as a separate entity from my disease. The important thing for me to remember is that I am NOT my disease. My disease and illness does NOT define who I am. I was scared for a long time that it did, and also scared that without it, I’d have nothing. I see now that teasing apart myself from my illness and issues from me is one of the best things I can do in life. It is the key to the pursuit of happiness. Yes, there are bad days, but every bad day shouldn’t turn into a monumentally awful nervous breakdown.

Now, how do I do all that and still manage the chemical imbalances in the process? Well, I’m trying to figure that out. Stay tuned. I’m figuring it out as I’m falling into place, even if it’s by a tiny bit at a time. The point is that I’m finally gaining ground.



  1. Your use of metaphors/similes really paint a portrait of the effects of mental illness.

    Comment by Lori — July 14, 2009 @ 10:15 AM | Reply

  2. Thank you! Again, I think that people need a real, live look at what it does and how devastating it can be.

    Comment by VocabularyV — July 15, 2009 @ 5:44 PM | Reply

  3. are you on meds

    Comment by Lisa — July 28, 2009 @ 9:48 PM | Reply

  4. Absolutely. Without them, I would not be here.

    Comment by VocabularyV — July 29, 2009 @ 2:00 AM | Reply

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