I'm scared, I'm very scared. I know I haven't kept up with my blog in over 3 years, but a lot has happened. Life has kept me busy—good and bad. For the most part, I forgot about this blog and just walked away from it. Maybe it was a trend, but as I sit down and write, I know the words will flow from my fingers as I continue to think.
Think long and hard about how my life has been turned upside down in the past two years.
In April 2015, we were told that my husband was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's Disease. He was only 52 years old. He had an MRI which turned out normal, but the neuropsychologist tests that were given to him is what showed otherwise. For now, he's walking just fine, you can speak to him with an intelligent conversation, and he's heavy into his workouts. But there are little things here and there that are noticeable.
Such as, occasional words that are mixed up or hard for him to think of. He can't tell you the date or sometimes the day of the week. He doesn't even know the year we're in. Otherwise, he seems very happy. As if nothing was happening.
In the few years leading up to his diagnosis, we noticed changes in his behavior. I couldn't understand why after walking in the door everyday, my husband would just be sitting on the sofa, just staring into space—no TV or anything. He was just sitting there as if he was in a daze. At first, I thought it was laziness; no motivation whatsoever or even depression. In retrospect, I wish that's all it was, because we could have taken care of it; we could have dealt with it. Only to be treated with one simple pill (and perhaps therapy) and he'd be OK and on his way to recovery. But unfortunately, with recent tests, that's not the case.
We were having our problems for 2 years prior to his diagnosis, to the point that I even contemplated divorce—even adultery. I felt our marriage was that far gone. We fought everyday, mostly because of my frustration with his "lack of motivation" about finding a new job. I couldn't understand why he wasn't going online everyday to look. I was looking for him. I was the one who sat down at the computer everyday to inquire and apply for jobs—for him.
I never in my wildest dreams thought it'd be as serious as early onset Alzheimer's Disease. He was only 52 years old. How could this be happening? It's so rare in the U.S., and it's only 5% of people suffering from Alzheimer's Disease that are early onset. It's something I never considered at such a young age.
I just thought—and hoped—he was depressed.
We were living in an apartment that depressed all of us. We were all anxious to get out, so after almost 2 years, we found another place to live. A single family home. No walking upstairs, listening to their music, or hearing their conversations. Just a freestanding house that was ours. All ours.
As soon as we moved, I noticed a huge difference in his attitude. He seemed so much happier—and still is. But the signs were still there. He still couldn't tell me the date, or the year. He didn't even know who the president of the United States was. And for someone who enjoyed watching the news every night, I knew this wasn't the norm. Even now, after over 2 years since his diagnosis, he still stumbles on his speech and with his sentences. It's difficult understanding what he's trying to say, but we make it through. He still works, but only a few hours a day. Luckily, his employer knows his situation and they work through it with him. His duties are minimal, and since his responsibilities are low, it's good for him to be there and get out of the house and interact with other people.
I know that one day, I will be faced with the most difficult decision of my life. That time where he will have to go to a facility to live out his remaining days. Being away from him, will be painful and it'll be an adjustment in our lives. Can you ever be prepared for something like that? I don't know. I just want him to be at home with us for as long as possible.
For now, that is my goal.
Showing posts with label marriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marriage. Show all posts
Thursday, September 21, 2017
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Finally feeling better, but not cured...
I got a job. I finally got a job. About a month ago, the week before Xmas, I was hired to start a new job at a local print shop. I never thought I'd work at a print shop, but as a graphic designer, it was always recommended that I do so. There is so much to learn, and I never thought in a million years, with the many years of experience in my field, that I'd be at a loss of what I'm doing. Obviously I was hired as a graphic designer / pre-flight specialist. Pre-flight? What's that?
That's what we do in the printing business as setting up files for the printers to execute for the client. I have a lot to learn, and right now, I'm clueless. I walked into my first day feeling confident, knowing with the 10+ years of graphic design under my belt, I thought I knew it all.
Not the case.
Everyday I'm learning something new. I know this is good not only for my psyche, but my experience as a designer. This is what I needed to succeed in my field. While in college, professors always recommended to their design students of either an internship at a print shop, or better—a job. Several months ago, I had interviewed for a design position at another local print shop, only to be narrowed down to myself and another candidate. But unfortunately, I was not chosen. I was disappointed because I knew this would have been an ideal fit for me, but it just wasn't meant to be. Then several months later, I still remained unemployed.
Until now.
I knew during the interview that this is where I wanted to work. I knew right away after meeting the other designer and art directior, that it was where I wanted to be to further my career and experience. Then during the second interview with the production manager and the owner, it solidified my wishes. I walked out of that interview feeling more than confident, but assured that I would be offered the job.
And thankfully, I was right.
It wasn't even 30 minutes later that I received that anticipated call to start the following week. I was elated. I couldn't believe I was going to be employed once again. I knew I needed this to further my illness without feeling lonely and incompetent in what felt like eternal depression. I needed social interaction on a daily basis. I craved it.
Social interaction with other people out in the community than sitting by myself, everyday, in a dark loft waiting anxiously for my family to get home. There were days, however, that I admit I wanted to be by myself, but mostly I needed an adult conversation to further my intelligence. But, as any social person can imagine, speaking with my husband everyday and every night, only grew tiresome. Nothing against my husband, of course, but I wanted—and needed—to speak to a friend.
Once I started my job, it was apparent that this was the place for me. The owner of the company was always looking out for his employees, and my fellow co-workers were actually nice. They actually seemed genuine.They were considerate to one another. Something I just wasn't used to in my many years as an employee.
No cattiness here.
I was happy. I was actually happy. Could this be a feeling I have waited for for so long? For once, I didn't have that overriding feeling of negativitiy; something I have experienced for many months now. I felt confident and I actually have a good feeling about this place, as well as my employer (the owner).
As I continue to feel good about this job, I will work hard and continue to be social with my co-workers, perhaps going out and having the opportunity of sitting down and having a beer together. It's what I have needed for so long.
I need this to further my recovery, and although I have put my therapy sessions on hold, I will continue my medication regardless, because I want to feel good about myself as a person, as well as my job.
Dammit, I deserve this.
Bipolar Gal on Twitter
That's what we do in the printing business as setting up files for the printers to execute for the client. I have a lot to learn, and right now, I'm clueless. I walked into my first day feeling confident, knowing with the 10+ years of graphic design under my belt, I thought I knew it all.
Not the case.
Everyday I'm learning something new. I know this is good not only for my psyche, but my experience as a designer. This is what I needed to succeed in my field. While in college, professors always recommended to their design students of either an internship at a print shop, or better—a job. Several months ago, I had interviewed for a design position at another local print shop, only to be narrowed down to myself and another candidate. But unfortunately, I was not chosen. I was disappointed because I knew this would have been an ideal fit for me, but it just wasn't meant to be. Then several months later, I still remained unemployed.
Until now.
I knew during the interview that this is where I wanted to work. I knew right away after meeting the other designer and art directior, that it was where I wanted to be to further my career and experience. Then during the second interview with the production manager and the owner, it solidified my wishes. I walked out of that interview feeling more than confident, but assured that I would be offered the job.
And thankfully, I was right.
It wasn't even 30 minutes later that I received that anticipated call to start the following week. I was elated. I couldn't believe I was going to be employed once again. I knew I needed this to further my illness without feeling lonely and incompetent in what felt like eternal depression. I needed social interaction on a daily basis. I craved it.
Social interaction with other people out in the community than sitting by myself, everyday, in a dark loft waiting anxiously for my family to get home. There were days, however, that I admit I wanted to be by myself, but mostly I needed an adult conversation to further my intelligence. But, as any social person can imagine, speaking with my husband everyday and every night, only grew tiresome. Nothing against my husband, of course, but I wanted—and needed—to speak to a friend.
Once I started my job, it was apparent that this was the place for me. The owner of the company was always looking out for his employees, and my fellow co-workers were actually nice. They actually seemed genuine.They were considerate to one another. Something I just wasn't used to in my many years as an employee.
No cattiness here.
I was happy. I was actually happy. Could this be a feeling I have waited for for so long? For once, I didn't have that overriding feeling of negativitiy; something I have experienced for many months now. I felt confident and I actually have a good feeling about this place, as well as my employer (the owner).
As I continue to feel good about this job, I will work hard and continue to be social with my co-workers, perhaps going out and having the opportunity of sitting down and having a beer together. It's what I have needed for so long.
I need this to further my recovery, and although I have put my therapy sessions on hold, I will continue my medication regardless, because I want to feel good about myself as a person, as well as my job.
Dammit, I deserve this.
Bipolar Gal on Twitter
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Joy to Xmas
As I fill myself and my home with constant Xmas "cheer," a depression came over me like no other time of the year. It's expected to fill your tree (or in my case, a decorated ladder in lieu of a tree) with presents and happiness. For us, that wasn't the case. We were unable to buy each other gifts, nor were we able to buy the plethora of gifts that we usually buy for our daughter that has become a tradition every year. Even during Hanukkah, my daughter and I created a tradition of lighting the menorah as well as purchasing her gifts everyday during the 7 day celebration.
It was hard for me to not be able to adhere to this annual tradition this year. It's been a tough year, both financially and emotionally. Being unemployed as well as losing my unemployment benefits in early July, only made that worse for all of us.
They say that Xmas presents are not supposed to define us, as it's supposed to be about family and love, but when you're one of the few—although it feels that way—who cannot take advantage of the giving tradition, it makes you feel sad, thus inept of this holiday observance. It makes you feel inadequate. Especially when there's a child involved. As parents, you want nothing more than to provide them with gifts, only to see their face as they open the wrapping paper in anticipation of seeing what will be hiding underneath. Even if she did ask for such presents for her Xmas list.
This year only brought disappointment. If not for my daughter (at least she didn't show it), but for us. Both of us wanted to provide her with what we've given her in the past—a bright smile and an unexpected surprise.
As we both sat there and gazed at her 'amazement,' I felt as though I was being jipped out of something that typically brought me a smile. Because I had no gift to open, no gift to rip open the wrapping paper and shaking the small bright box, I was sad and disappointed, if only for myself, and not my daughter or husband. Again, I know Xmas is not about gifts, but about togetherness that a family brings, I felt despaired at the same time regardless.
Does that make me selfish? Shouldn't I have sat there and been happy for our love and health instead? On that day, Xmas day, all I felt was resentment. Resentful that my husband doesn't make enough money to provide us with a plethora of gifts and surprise, only to be felt as though we were nothing; we were nobody in comparison.
I love my husband very much, but the last few months I have felt unhappiness instead. A feeling of loneliness and forlorn. I miss our 'marriage' and I miss the happiness we once felt as a couple. Now it only feels like we're roommates; roommates with a child. Sex has become inconsistent and dissatisfying. It's a rare act that has brought me despondency therefore has only pushed me away from what typically brings love to a marriage. Divorce has permeated my mind everyday, but what would I do without him at the same time?
I don't know.
I know if I walked away, I'd end up being unhappy, or would I? Solitude has always been something I've enjoyed, but on my terms only. My husband has always understood this therefore allowing me to go away for a few days to visit friends or relatives. Whereas most spouses may not accept this as part of their marriage. Isn't that why we get married to begin with, to spend time with that person and include them in their life? For me, that hasn't always been the case. Obviously that changed a great deal once my daughter was born, but for the most part, it never changed how I felt.
Recently, money has prevented me from taking advantage of such feelings, so I've only gotten worse in my confinement and resentment towards him. I know this is wrong, and I know I shouldn't take this out on me as my unemployment and recent lack of benefits has been a large part of that, but I have felt as though I have been deprived of something that has been so meaningful to me over the past several years as a result of this.
I know as time goes by, with my recent job, that will change a great deal. It'll take time as we catch up with bills that have recently snowballed into a large sum of payment every month, into a normal American household. Paying our bills every month, living a happy fulfilling life on a regular, daily basis.
I must, and I will. If only for the sake of my family and my marriage.
Bipolar Gal on Twitter
It was hard for me to not be able to adhere to this annual tradition this year. It's been a tough year, both financially and emotionally. Being unemployed as well as losing my unemployment benefits in early July, only made that worse for all of us.
They say that Xmas presents are not supposed to define us, as it's supposed to be about family and love, but when you're one of the few—although it feels that way—who cannot take advantage of the giving tradition, it makes you feel sad, thus inept of this holiday observance. It makes you feel inadequate. Especially when there's a child involved. As parents, you want nothing more than to provide them with gifts, only to see their face as they open the wrapping paper in anticipation of seeing what will be hiding underneath. Even if she did ask for such presents for her Xmas list.
This year only brought disappointment. If not for my daughter (at least she didn't show it), but for us. Both of us wanted to provide her with what we've given her in the past—a bright smile and an unexpected surprise.
As we both sat there and gazed at her 'amazement,' I felt as though I was being jipped out of something that typically brought me a smile. Because I had no gift to open, no gift to rip open the wrapping paper and shaking the small bright box, I was sad and disappointed, if only for myself, and not my daughter or husband. Again, I know Xmas is not about gifts, but about togetherness that a family brings, I felt despaired at the same time regardless.
Does that make me selfish? Shouldn't I have sat there and been happy for our love and health instead? On that day, Xmas day, all I felt was resentment. Resentful that my husband doesn't make enough money to provide us with a plethora of gifts and surprise, only to be felt as though we were nothing; we were nobody in comparison.
I love my husband very much, but the last few months I have felt unhappiness instead. A feeling of loneliness and forlorn. I miss our 'marriage' and I miss the happiness we once felt as a couple. Now it only feels like we're roommates; roommates with a child. Sex has become inconsistent and dissatisfying. It's a rare act that has brought me despondency therefore has only pushed me away from what typically brings love to a marriage. Divorce has permeated my mind everyday, but what would I do without him at the same time?
I don't know.
I know if I walked away, I'd end up being unhappy, or would I? Solitude has always been something I've enjoyed, but on my terms only. My husband has always understood this therefore allowing me to go away for a few days to visit friends or relatives. Whereas most spouses may not accept this as part of their marriage. Isn't that why we get married to begin with, to spend time with that person and include them in their life? For me, that hasn't always been the case. Obviously that changed a great deal once my daughter was born, but for the most part, it never changed how I felt.
Recently, money has prevented me from taking advantage of such feelings, so I've only gotten worse in my confinement and resentment towards him. I know this is wrong, and I know I shouldn't take this out on me as my unemployment and recent lack of benefits has been a large part of that, but I have felt as though I have been deprived of something that has been so meaningful to me over the past several years as a result of this.
I know as time goes by, with my recent job, that will change a great deal. It'll take time as we catch up with bills that have recently snowballed into a large sum of payment every month, into a normal American household. Paying our bills every month, living a happy fulfilling life on a regular, daily basis.
I must, and I will. If only for the sake of my family and my marriage.
Bipolar Gal on Twitter
Thursday, December 13, 2012
The Stress of Marriage
As I start this post, I know there's a chance that my husband will read it, therefore causing more hurt than I intend. Since I started this blog, my husband has been respecting my privacy, consequently trusting me with the freedom of writing what I need to express here, allowing me to write personal words throughout its fruition. Is it difficult for me to write this? Absolutely.
Here I go.
The past few weeks have been difficult for our relationship, to the point that we have been fighting everyday as a result. I admit, it's been mostly on my part, not his, as I scream hurtful words towards him in hopes of a change. I realize that's not the right way to approach such a private affair, but at the time, it's what I know and how I feel to react. Even though I regret it immediately after, my stubborness disables me from apologizing, whence continuing the hurt.
Sometimes I don't know how to move forward with our marriage, and sometimes nothing would please me more. It changes on a daily basis and on occastion, I ask myself, is this what I want? Do I want to be married in hopes of being left alone? Or just fight through what seems like a rough patch? I know he is soon getting to the point of frustration, therefore about to walk away from it all. I don't blame him, I have put both he and my daughter through hell. It's not fair to them, nor is it fair to myself.
The love I feel for him is unquestionable, it's why I have been married for so long. But the resentment I feel is also undeniable. I resent that we are in this financial anguish with only hope to guide us. At the time that I am writing this, we have no food, and my dog hasn't been able to eat aside from scraps we have left over from the previous week's dinner. I look inside our bare refrigerator and ask myself, how did it get this bad? I know that my unemployment has caused a great deal of that, but how can we still not have the money to eat? Forget a xmas tree or lights, we can't even afford that. Our home looks unconventional during this holiday season and nothing displeases me more. I've always loved this time of year and always enjoyed the bright twinkly lights permeating throughout our home. Only to look at dullness instead.
I'm bitter, I'm very bitter.
I ran out of my Trileptal last night and since my "drug dealer" is out of samples, I don't know when I'll be able to refill my prescription. After days of withdrawals, I know that will only hinder my diagnosis, not get better like it's supposed to.
Everyday I look at my husband with disgust. I watch him work many hours a week just so we can have food on the table, only to see it empty instead. Here is an educated man working at a job he loathes just so we can have health insurance, and work for a company that has not given him a raise since he started 6 years ago. I plead with him everyday to look for another job in hopes of a better life, but I can't watch over his shoulder wondering if he's adhering to my advice. He's a grown man, and I know he only wants what's best for our family and regrets the position we are currently in.
In my eyes, we are living the life of poverty, only to not qualify for food stamps or the like. According to the state, my husband makes too much money to collect. Ironic. We're not big spenders, nor do we have a lot of debt (if any). It comes from bills and rent that must be paid every month, only to snowball with regular past due amounts and regular phone calls fighting after us.
I don't know what to do at this point with my marriage, he has been there with me every step of the way as I struggled with my bipolar disorder, but as I wake up everyday in a dark depressive state due to our finances, I sometimes think it would only be easier if I went off on my own. Leaving him with my daughter to raise her properly and not have to worry about me and my illness or an extra mouth to feed.
As we sat through my therapy session last week, letting out our frustrations and spewing the hurt, I know that what I decide to do will have to come to fruition quickly, or both of us will sink down into a state of sadness and unhappiness. But what do I decide? How can I move forward with my life with or without him? That is what I need to think about every single day.
But how?
Give me the courage, please.
Bipolar Gal on Twitter
Here I go.
The past few weeks have been difficult for our relationship, to the point that we have been fighting everyday as a result. I admit, it's been mostly on my part, not his, as I scream hurtful words towards him in hopes of a change. I realize that's not the right way to approach such a private affair, but at the time, it's what I know and how I feel to react. Even though I regret it immediately after, my stubborness disables me from apologizing, whence continuing the hurt.
Sometimes I don't know how to move forward with our marriage, and sometimes nothing would please me more. It changes on a daily basis and on occastion, I ask myself, is this what I want? Do I want to be married in hopes of being left alone? Or just fight through what seems like a rough patch? I know he is soon getting to the point of frustration, therefore about to walk away from it all. I don't blame him, I have put both he and my daughter through hell. It's not fair to them, nor is it fair to myself.
The love I feel for him is unquestionable, it's why I have been married for so long. But the resentment I feel is also undeniable. I resent that we are in this financial anguish with only hope to guide us. At the time that I am writing this, we have no food, and my dog hasn't been able to eat aside from scraps we have left over from the previous week's dinner. I look inside our bare refrigerator and ask myself, how did it get this bad? I know that my unemployment has caused a great deal of that, but how can we still not have the money to eat? Forget a xmas tree or lights, we can't even afford that. Our home looks unconventional during this holiday season and nothing displeases me more. I've always loved this time of year and always enjoyed the bright twinkly lights permeating throughout our home. Only to look at dullness instead.
I'm bitter, I'm very bitter.
I ran out of my Trileptal last night and since my "drug dealer" is out of samples, I don't know when I'll be able to refill my prescription. After days of withdrawals, I know that will only hinder my diagnosis, not get better like it's supposed to.
Everyday I look at my husband with disgust. I watch him work many hours a week just so we can have food on the table, only to see it empty instead. Here is an educated man working at a job he loathes just so we can have health insurance, and work for a company that has not given him a raise since he started 6 years ago. I plead with him everyday to look for another job in hopes of a better life, but I can't watch over his shoulder wondering if he's adhering to my advice. He's a grown man, and I know he only wants what's best for our family and regrets the position we are currently in.
In my eyes, we are living the life of poverty, only to not qualify for food stamps or the like. According to the state, my husband makes too much money to collect. Ironic. We're not big spenders, nor do we have a lot of debt (if any). It comes from bills and rent that must be paid every month, only to snowball with regular past due amounts and regular phone calls fighting after us.
I don't know what to do at this point with my marriage, he has been there with me every step of the way as I struggled with my bipolar disorder, but as I wake up everyday in a dark depressive state due to our finances, I sometimes think it would only be easier if I went off on my own. Leaving him with my daughter to raise her properly and not have to worry about me and my illness or an extra mouth to feed.
As we sat through my therapy session last week, letting out our frustrations and spewing the hurt, I know that what I decide to do will have to come to fruition quickly, or both of us will sink down into a state of sadness and unhappiness. But what do I decide? How can I move forward with my life with or without him? That is what I need to think about every single day.
But how?
Give me the courage, please.
Bipolar Gal on Twitter
Thursday, August 23, 2012
The End of My Tunnel
It's official, today I feel as though I have reached my threshold—the end of my tunnel. I feel as though my life is wasted and I am no longer challenged. As if I am oppressed. How do I overcome this? How can I excel within my soul and my psyche to fight this constant emotion? Is it even possible at this point, from someone who is in their late 40's? To some of you, that may seem young, but to most, it's beyond a mid-life crisis. I have been experiencing this for over a year now and I can't seem to shake myself from it. I wish it was like a bad dream and I could just wake up, instead of living it every single day.
I sit here at my new job bored and unchallenged. I feel as though my life is being wasted and everything I worked so hard to achieve while in college and beyond graduation has escaped me and slipped through my fingers; it has become out of my grasp. Everything is out of my control, including my bipolar disorder. It's clear my medication isn't working as I had hoped, and only creating a constant depression that is beyond anything I had ever imagined. A deep decline within my soul.
I should be happy, I should be grateful and I should love my life. I have a loving, wonderful husband and a beautiful healthy daughter—so why can't I appreciate this and just accept it as being a part of my life? Why can't I just realize that the majority of the population is worse off than me and just move forward and try to make the best of it? To continue on as part of my personal life cycle.
'Why' seems to be the question of my life these days. It seems I am always asking 'why.'
I'm tired of asking this question, and instead, I want an answer. Nothing embellished, I just want to know that everything will be OK and my life will persevere regardless of what job I'm at or whether or not we're ever rich or even if we're poor, that life will still go on and I'll be happy. I'll be thankful for my life and appreciate and relish my family time everyday instead. But I can't. Alternately, I dwell on my life and it makes me even more depressed than I had ever imagined.
This slump that I'm in won't go away and it's making me exhausted; I am emotionally exhausted. I never thought in my wildest dreams that repeating that phrase would ever escape my lips or even an emotion that would ever be consummated in my life.
But it does. Every single day for the past year. Or, at least it feels that way.
Last night I had a long discussion with my husband about my job and how unhappy I was. He understands, but at the same time, he doesn't. He's trying to wrap his fingers around why I am like this, because I know for my husband, he too is emotionally exhausted just from living my personal hell along side me. It affects him too. He knows that in all the years we have been together, I have never reacted like this or have ever let a job affect me the way this job has, in this manner; I have never been this depressed.
He asks that I give the job some time, at least until he can accumulate a clientele from his new position as a personal trainer. I promised him I would, as I had no intentions of just easily giving up and walking away. I've always been responsible that way and I always seem to think logically, which I was told just the other day from my psychiatric nurse—who I like to refer to as my 'drug dealer'—that my logical thinking and planning is a "gift." Maybe an attribute I should grow to admire, instead of criticize.
I will try and honor my husband's wishes and trudge everyday at a job that I loathe and a job that I come home depressed from, I will do it and I will make my husband proud. For our finances, it's a necessity. It'll give us that one little freedom of paying our bills and our attempt to live like the rest of society in an honest manner.
Bipolar Gal on Twitter
I sit here at my new job bored and unchallenged. I feel as though my life is being wasted and everything I worked so hard to achieve while in college and beyond graduation has escaped me and slipped through my fingers; it has become out of my grasp. Everything is out of my control, including my bipolar disorder. It's clear my medication isn't working as I had hoped, and only creating a constant depression that is beyond anything I had ever imagined. A deep decline within my soul.
I should be happy, I should be grateful and I should love my life. I have a loving, wonderful husband and a beautiful healthy daughter—so why can't I appreciate this and just accept it as being a part of my life? Why can't I just realize that the majority of the population is worse off than me and just move forward and try to make the best of it? To continue on as part of my personal life cycle.
'Why' seems to be the question of my life these days. It seems I am always asking 'why.'
I'm tired of asking this question, and instead, I want an answer. Nothing embellished, I just want to know that everything will be OK and my life will persevere regardless of what job I'm at or whether or not we're ever rich or even if we're poor, that life will still go on and I'll be happy. I'll be thankful for my life and appreciate and relish my family time everyday instead. But I can't. Alternately, I dwell on my life and it makes me even more depressed than I had ever imagined.
This slump that I'm in won't go away and it's making me exhausted; I am emotionally exhausted. I never thought in my wildest dreams that repeating that phrase would ever escape my lips or even an emotion that would ever be consummated in my life.
But it does. Every single day for the past year. Or, at least it feels that way.
Last night I had a long discussion with my husband about my job and how unhappy I was. He understands, but at the same time, he doesn't. He's trying to wrap his fingers around why I am like this, because I know for my husband, he too is emotionally exhausted just from living my personal hell along side me. It affects him too. He knows that in all the years we have been together, I have never reacted like this or have ever let a job affect me the way this job has, in this manner; I have never been this depressed.
He asks that I give the job some time, at least until he can accumulate a clientele from his new position as a personal trainer. I promised him I would, as I had no intentions of just easily giving up and walking away. I've always been responsible that way and I always seem to think logically, which I was told just the other day from my psychiatric nurse—who I like to refer to as my 'drug dealer'—that my logical thinking and planning is a "gift." Maybe an attribute I should grow to admire, instead of criticize.
I will try and honor my husband's wishes and trudge everyday at a job that I loathe and a job that I come home depressed from, I will do it and I will make my husband proud. For our finances, it's a necessity. It'll give us that one little freedom of paying our bills and our attempt to live like the rest of society in an honest manner.
Bipolar Gal on Twitter
Monday, June 25, 2012
Woes of Anniversary
My anniversary this past year was a tough one. We got married on November 5, so since it is around the holidays, this past anniversary turned into an unhappy one. Leading up to these months were tough for all of us, myself included. I had been through a lot, and knowing that our anniversary and the holidays were rapidly approaching, it was devastatingly scary for me. I knew I'd have to face it, and I knew I couldn't run away from it. It was right there in front of me like a shark at the depth of the ocean. I had nowhere to run and I couldn't escape.
For many years, I loved celebrating our anniversary. With the exception of my daughter's birthday, it was the one day of the year that was most special to us. Although we couldn't afford to travel or buy lavish gifts for each other, we still celebrated it with excitement and angst. Once we chose the restaurant we were both happy with and felt would be enjoyable for our celebratory evening, my husband was eager to call and make the reservation.
Throughout the years for our anniversary, we would get a babysitter and enjoy it on our own, but the last 2 or 3 years, we decided to bring our daughter with us. We realized that she was a big part of our lives and felt she was why we were here and why we were together. She always enjoyed it as much as we did and took pride in participating with us. It brought us happiness.
We decided to eat at a local oyster & seafood bar that had recently opened several months prior, and it was only a few blocks from our loft. So aside from convenience, we figured we'd enjoy the new surroundings and experience. Since I had been wanting to eat there when it opened, it was the perfect choice. But something always came up, whether it be money or just time, we could never go. It seemed like there was always something; always a deterrent to keep us from going.
We didn't know how expensive it would be, so we ended up being conservative and would ultimately choose a more modest restaurant instead. This time, for our special day, my husband knew it'd be the perfect locale to honor our anniversary. He wanted to make me happy and make it unforgettable.
I didn't want to be there and I didn't want to celebrate. I just wanted to curl up in a fetal position and cry. I wanted to be alone. But how? How could I be alone on a day that involved another person? It wasn't my birthday and it wasn't another frivolous holiday, it was OUR anniversary; it was our day.
Maybe on most occasions I could pull off the self-pitying fetal position, but this year was different. I really wanted to go, I really did. But with how I had been feeling the prior months, I knew it was a risk being there and bringing our daughter to go with us. But how could I say no? They were both trying so hard to make me happy and they wanted so badly to bring a smile to my face. So I did what any mother and wife would do during these circumstances—I sucked it up, and I went.
This time, willingly.
What I would give to have it end there, but it didn't end happily. Not this time. At that point, I hadn't started hitting myself, so going home was not a scare nor was it a concern. However, my unhappiness was. Nothing could please me by this time, and nothing was "good enough."
All I did was complain about everything—the service, the food, the prices, the drinks—all of it. I couldn't find anything good about anything. As we were waiting anxiously for the check, I was sitting there tapping my leg as if I had to make an emergency run to the bathroom. I look back on that evening today, and realize how much I crave for a nice quiet evening such as that fateful night on our anniversary, and it saddens me. It only makes me realize how much pain I was in at that time. It was out of my control; it wasn't me back there.
But is it too late to make amends with myself? Give myself some peace?
I don't know. I honestly don't. I realize that having bipolar disorder is out of my control; it's something I can't change. All I can do is continue my medication and realize that everyday will be a challenge, a challenge that I am ready and willing to embark on. A new day.
I now think to myself how lucky I was for having the luxury of spending a lovely evening at a delicious restaurant with my family, and how evenings like that are too few. After recently coming home from my father's funeral, I realize how he can no longer enjoy a delightful evening with his wife, or take advantage of a delicious meal at a sensational restaurant—these are things that he loved to do on many occasions, and can no longer do so.
That breaks my heart.
Is it a cliché to continually remind yourself of a common sentiment that "life is short?" Or should we actually take this advice and try and see the good in everything and everyone? Is it unrealistic to have such a positive attitude, or just absurd?
For me, the answer isn't that clear yet, but I hope it will be someday—soon! I am very anxious for that answer. I need clarity in my life. Especially now.
I desire nothing more than sitting in a restaurant with my family so we can enjoy the time we are spending there together, not look at what's going wrong, or what's right, just enjoy it; embrace it. Whether or not the food is crap, service is slow or if the drinks are overpriced, will be irrelevant. I will only enjoy the time that I'm there with my family and take advantage of the precious time we have now and will continue to enjoy for the future.
Bipolar Gal on Twitter
For many years, I loved celebrating our anniversary. With the exception of my daughter's birthday, it was the one day of the year that was most special to us. Although we couldn't afford to travel or buy lavish gifts for each other, we still celebrated it with excitement and angst. Once we chose the restaurant we were both happy with and felt would be enjoyable for our celebratory evening, my husband was eager to call and make the reservation.
Throughout the years for our anniversary, we would get a babysitter and enjoy it on our own, but the last 2 or 3 years, we decided to bring our daughter with us. We realized that she was a big part of our lives and felt she was why we were here and why we were together. She always enjoyed it as much as we did and took pride in participating with us. It brought us happiness.
We decided to eat at a local oyster & seafood bar that had recently opened several months prior, and it was only a few blocks from our loft. So aside from convenience, we figured we'd enjoy the new surroundings and experience. Since I had been wanting to eat there when it opened, it was the perfect choice. But something always came up, whether it be money or just time, we could never go. It seemed like there was always something; always a deterrent to keep us from going.
We didn't know how expensive it would be, so we ended up being conservative and would ultimately choose a more modest restaurant instead. This time, for our special day, my husband knew it'd be the perfect locale to honor our anniversary. He wanted to make me happy and make it unforgettable.
But this last anniversary was different. So very different.
I didn't want to be there and I didn't want to celebrate. I just wanted to curl up in a fetal position and cry. I wanted to be alone. But how? How could I be alone on a day that involved another person? It wasn't my birthday and it wasn't another frivolous holiday, it was OUR anniversary; it was our day.
Maybe on most occasions I could pull off the self-pitying fetal position, but this year was different. I really wanted to go, I really did. But with how I had been feeling the prior months, I knew it was a risk being there and bringing our daughter to go with us. But how could I say no? They were both trying so hard to make me happy and they wanted so badly to bring a smile to my face. So I did what any mother and wife would do during these circumstances—I sucked it up, and I went.
This time, willingly.
What I would give to have it end there, but it didn't end happily. Not this time. At that point, I hadn't started hitting myself, so going home was not a scare nor was it a concern. However, my unhappiness was. Nothing could please me by this time, and nothing was "good enough."
All I did was complain about everything—the service, the food, the prices, the drinks—all of it. I couldn't find anything good about anything. As we were waiting anxiously for the check, I was sitting there tapping my leg as if I had to make an emergency run to the bathroom. I look back on that evening today, and realize how much I crave for a nice quiet evening such as that fateful night on our anniversary, and it saddens me. It only makes me realize how much pain I was in at that time. It was out of my control; it wasn't me back there.
But is it too late to make amends with myself? Give myself some peace?
I don't know. I honestly don't. I realize that having bipolar disorder is out of my control; it's something I can't change. All I can do is continue my medication and realize that everyday will be a challenge, a challenge that I am ready and willing to embark on. A new day.
I now think to myself how lucky I was for having the luxury of spending a lovely evening at a delicious restaurant with my family, and how evenings like that are too few. After recently coming home from my father's funeral, I realize how he can no longer enjoy a delightful evening with his wife, or take advantage of a delicious meal at a sensational restaurant—these are things that he loved to do on many occasions, and can no longer do so.
That breaks my heart.
Is it a cliché to continually remind yourself of a common sentiment that "life is short?" Or should we actually take this advice and try and see the good in everything and everyone? Is it unrealistic to have such a positive attitude, or just absurd?
For me, the answer isn't that clear yet, but I hope it will be someday—soon! I am very anxious for that answer. I need clarity in my life. Especially now.
I desire nothing more than sitting in a restaurant with my family so we can enjoy the time we are spending there together, not look at what's going wrong, or what's right, just enjoy it; embrace it. Whether or not the food is crap, service is slow or if the drinks are overpriced, will be irrelevant. I will only enjoy the time that I'm there with my family and take advantage of the precious time we have now and will continue to enjoy for the future.
Bipolar Gal on Twitter
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