Holiday stress – Hell Yes!

I felt sick yesterday. Couldn’t eat, just wanted to sleep. I thought it was the flu but I’m not so sure. In the evening I thought more and more about why I might be feeling ill and then it clicked.

I’m freaking out!

This time last year and the year before I’ve been holed up in the psych ward, suicidal but safe. This year I’ve been doing ok but no matter how positive I am I can’t help but recall flashbacks and fear going back there again.

I’m also slowly trying to get my house tidied up as my Awesome, super-lovable Mum-in-law is coming to stay for a bit. I’m really excited and I know she just wants to see us but I still want to make things special for her of course.

I’m trying to do some meal planning and feeling guilty I don’t do any of the baking I used to do before I fucked up my back. I want to make French-Canadian Toutiere (meat pie) as I have for many years like my Mom and my Grandmother but I’m cheating this year and not making pastry from scratch like I used to.

There are a lot of things I simply haven’t got the energy or mental wherewithal to do anymore and saying this at 38 because of mental illness and chronic pain is crushing no matter if I should be used to it by now or not😢 Lowering my expectations was never a goal I thought I’d make. Lol!

My social anxiety seems to have kicked into high gear lately which is super great because this is the time of year for visiting. Yeeeeeah!

Anyway, ignoring all these feelings and worries and then over thinking them sent me into a full panic attack last night. Luckily my husband was able to talk me down a bit and make me laugh. The anti-anxiety meds helped too😉

But good things are happening also, I visited a close friend and her adorable baby and we decorated cookies, and chatted, and played with the babe. It was really a nice way to spend an afternoon. I even tolerated the first Christmas music of the season.

Happy Greetings & Season’s Holiday!

K

The Point is Not to Please You, Dear Reader

I am forcing myself to write this blog entry. I just haven’t been able to get it together enough to string together even passable prose.

“I don’t want to do this! I don’t want to feel. At all,” is what my mind cries out to me lately. I feel paralysed. I’m afraid if I put it in writing my crazy will be naked and real, for all the world to see. Yikes!

For the last two years, right around now, I’ve fallen into deep, dark, grief-tinged depression with suicidal ideation and a side order of self harm.

Why does it happen now? My Mom’s birthday on Nov 21 (died 3.5 years ago) seems to send me reeling, circling the drain, sucked down with low self worth.

Following her birthday Christmas crap is everywhere reminding me just how much I miss her helping to lead the charge. It’s hard to cheerlead for something I don’t really believe in.

I just cherry pick stuffed stockings, shortbread, gift giving, dim sum downtown, spoiling my husband and Dad and wilfully ignoring much of the other Christmas nonsense and hullabaloo.

Even paring Christmas down to a very small size still eats away at me for no good reason. The last 2 years I’ve been admitted into the psych ward for a month or two before feeling safe and well enough to go home.

This year I have been feeling a lot better I think. I’m also really excited my Mother-in-law, whom I adore💜, is coming to stay with us and we havent had a Christmas together in about 10 years.

In spite of my better mood I do feel myself dipping lower into that deep, sad place. I keep my head above water though and I don’t go too far. I can still easily see the exit. So far I’ve just felt compelled to poke around in the dark here and there.

I haven’t been self-harming, although the thought has crossed my mind. I don’t know if it’s better to push all thoughts of my psych ward experiences down and away, try to unthink them, or if I should just calmly let them replay in the background while staying focused on right now simultaneously.

I feel like I just wrote a whole lot but said sweet fuck all. Sorry about that. The point was not to please you, dear reader, but just to practice the act of writing, prove to myself I still can.

K