anxiety, bipolar, depression, writing

Tid-bit of Trauma from the past

the homeowner’s association sent two men to look at the leak in the roof. i was the only one home and having strangers in the house, even when my husband was home, scared the crap out of me. rain was predicted for the following day so we HAD to have them take care of the problem right away.

by the time they got there i was already a panicky mess. they pulled up in the driveway and got out of a really ratty station wagon. i had expected a truck with a roofer’s logo and workmen in uniforms with their names embroidered over the pocket.

i ran down the stairs with a lump in my throat and let them in. they started going upstairs after muttering something. i started to hyperventilate. they carried a ladder in, opened the door to the attic, which was in the ceiling, and climbed up.

i dashed into the computer room and shut my eyes repeating “it’s gonna be ok, it’s gonna be ok…” over and over under my breath. when i opened my eyes, a couple of minutes later, the ladder was gone!!!! the attic door was shut. their car was still in the driveway.

i heard them walking around above me, in the attic. i felt like i’d been punched in the gut. i grabbed my phone and called my huz. when he answered i was already babbling, sobbing high-pitched hysteria. he tried to calm me down, but it was hopeless. i begged him to come home. he agreed and i went and curled up in the bedroom closet.

when he finally got home he found me there with my hands over my ears. he told me they’d been on the roof all the time i thought they were in the attic. he sent them on their way and hugged me tight.


chronic pain upon chronic pain….

i was diagnosed with bursitis a few weeks ago for severe pain in my hip and leg. it didn’t get  better so i saw another internal medicine doctor. same diagnosis. they told me to go to my orthopedic surgeon. she didn’t think it was bursitis, so she gave me an injection of lidocaine in my hip as a diagnostic procedure. it didn’t help at all, so she ruled out bursitis. my PCP referred me to a specialist…a doctor of Physical Medicine. i hadn’t heard of that specialty. i read up and apparently they’re good at diagnosing problems that other doctor’s can’t figure out.

it’s not bursitis. :/ it’s sciatica. 😦 😦 😦 i have to have x-rays and an MRI to see if there are bone spurs, too. Dr. Lu prescribed gabapenton (for nerve pain) and diclofenac (strong anti-inflammatory). he’s checking with my endocrinologist to see if he can give me prednisone. all of that is supposed to help the pain, and if that’s not good enough, i can take narcotic painkillers. i really really hope she says yes, and i expect she will. i know from experience that steroids make everything feel better.

he said it might take months or years for it to get better and even then it will flare up now and then. he specifically spoke about chronic pain.

how depressing! i had no idea that it was coming from my back! pinched nerve/herniated disc in the spine. turns out all that stretching that my husband has been nagging me to do just makes it worse! lol

i’m so tired. i picked up the meds and took them, so we’ll see if  i feel any better. :/ :/ :/


unhappy anniversary, mom and dad

divorce. it’s something that never goes smoothly, that affects children and adults, that  leaves mental scars and that ruins people’s lives for at least a short period of time, or much longer for others.

my parents divorced when i was 15. they were married 20+ years, most of which was filled with anger, tears, and resentment. my mother was abusive to me, and you don’t hear about this much, but she was an abusive spouse as well. i couldn’t have been happier that they were splitting, hoping i’d be able to escape from my mother. no such luck. my father was in my life even less than when he was married to my mother. she was so angry and devastated by the divorce that she had to take it out on someone, or at least that was what was in her nature. she took out everything she would have liked to have done to my father, to me. she lied about every bit of their marriage and her life before and after the divorce.

we all suffered and everybody pretty  much ended up hating the other parties in the disaster. it was a messy ugly divorce, not that there could be an easy divorce ever, but this was epic.  i could go on and on but the fact of the matter is that they needed to be divorced, despite the pain we all felt.

i didn’t escape though. my father sunk himself into his relationship with my stepmother (their affair was what sparked things until the divorce was inevitable.) both parents were so involved with their nervous breakdowns to notice me or try to help me get through the nightmare. .

today, march 26, is their wedding anniversary, or what would have been if they’d lasted this long. *shiver of horror*

i talked to my father about it last week and he’d forgotten all about what day the anniversary was. i told him how upset i was and he seemed really surprised. am i the only one who got divorced? people tell me i’m too old to feel this way about it. it’s lodged in my mind forever. i haven’t had contact with my mother since i realized how the way she acted and the way she treated me was unacceptable. that was about 10 years ago.

today is a painful day for me. my dad and stepmother are leaving for their trip back to their house in england, brighton to be exact, today. it cuts me to the bone. i feel like mourning, there is so much wrapped up in this date. i hate it.

unhappy anniversary, mom and dad. :/


new technique practice

new technique test

this monstrosity is another ultra-detailed drawing in my moleskeine journal (anybody wanna buy a journal with several epic drawings and some ravings of a mad woman?? lol).

i don’t like this and the only reason i’m posting it is because my husband told me i had to, considering how long i spent on it. hehe

the problem is that this happened from a little doodle i didn’t expect anything from. the composition is crap because i didn’t plan it from the start. the colors are nice, the detail is pretty impressive, but it’s just a mess of squiggles to boggle the eyes.

there is no optical illusion or eye candy. the longer i drew, the more i could see that i could have made it work, but didn’t.

i’ve been mulling over some really tough stuff from my past recently. i think it’s memories i need to examine, but i don’t want to and i don’t like it. i have to come to terms with some facts of life and move past them. i’m clinging to past traumas. of course they never go away entirely, but after a couple decades of talk therapy i’ve figured out that some things have to be dragged out of the shadows and explored to ever be able to leave them in the past. i’ve succeed with that idea on several things.

this one hurts like hell but i’ll never heal if i don’t tackle this issue. after having a disturbing talk with my dad i started this drawing. all the time i was drawing this i was thinking about it all, intensely. working on the tiny details allowed me to do something that became almost muscle memory since i’d been doing them so long. i drew and i could focus on thinking.

i worked somethings out and when the drawing was finished i could set it aside temporarily so as not to be overwhelmed by emotional turmoil and was left with a very haphazard drawing.

i don’t think of it as a waste of time, i think it let me doing some growing without the fear and anxiety that usually takes over and keep that from happening. i like that i did it in my journal. it seems more like a journal entry than a piece of art.

i don’t know where i’ll go from here. i might start another tricky drawing to work on for hours, just for the therapy. it makes me feel good to see the journal get fat with pages of squirmy detail.