Archive for the 'Letters Home' Category

Needs and Reality Check

Published on March 18, 2013 in Anxiety, Emotions, Letters Home, Mental Health and Secrets and Confessions. 0 Comments

I have an overachievers spirit trapped in an underachievers body. I have great self expectations with sometimes limited mental resources. I am not superwoman in body or mind. I’m just Faith, and that’s going to have to be enough.

I feel as if I’m not doing enough and that I appear to be a slacker. A real look at the situation says I’ve unpacked faster than most people do when they move. One friend of mine said she knows how hard it is for me to have disorder by way of boxes everywhere. She’s right. I hate it.  It feels like clutter and even though they’re just boxes the place feels dirty to me. They’re just boxes but its not organized, things get arghhh everywhere and it starts to test my OCD. I can’t think and want to shut down.  My CNA said she can tell I’m ‘particular’ and that I like things ‘a certain way.’ These statements are true. They’re very true. I wonder if there is a way for me to learn to be more flexible and less dependent on absolute structure and order.

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When it feels like home

Published on March 12, 2013 in Anxiety, Emotions, Grief Sadness Loss, Letters Home, Mental Health, PTSD and Therapy. 2 Comments Tags: .

Today in therapy we discussed how I’d know when the new place feels like home. I’ll know when I dance in the living room with a cup of tea in my hand.

I hate musicals. I hate that people break out into song for no good reason. I hate it when they spring across the floor in fairy style singing about how great life is. I hate it! I see no reason to have girls in big feathery hats kicking in unison or young chaps singing before they go to war about lost love. Stop it! Shut up! Be a man and stop singing like that! I hate musicals. I truly hate them. I love ballet and opera but musicals are not for me. ……

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moving today- better footing

Published on February 28, 2013 in Anxiety, Emotions, Fear, Forgiveness, Gratitude Journal, Letters Home, Mental Health, PTSD and Trust. 1 Comment

its not been good at all. emotionally i’m a train wreck but physically i’m fine. i’m on the floor typing this so please excuse typos that don’t get corrected.

i packed this place alone. i had someone here sitting with me which was exactly what i needed, but i packed this place alone. i needed to do it that way. i needed the emotional support of someone just being here. i’m proud of what i did but i’m finding that it was not good enough for some who came to help move me.

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Twenty One

Published on February 3, 2013 in Gratitude Journal, Letters Home, Mental Health and PTSD. 3 Comments Tags: .

Six white stars

I started celebrating my Independence from an abusive household back in 1992, twenty one years ago to date.  Since this is the last one I chose to memorialize I wanted to do something a little different which ended up being a lot more emotional than I expected it to be.  I wasn’t sad I was just … emotional. Actually, I think I started getting emotional when I began to write a few words on each balloon just before my ride showed up. I knew I wanted to write a few words on them but I decided to wait until just before I left to do it. I wanted it off the cuff, not something I thought about way too much. I just wanted a few words on each balloon.

I hoped for a windy day and I hoped it would snow. The place I chose is a place I’ve visited often. They’ve got a wonderful koi pond, beautiful indoor gardens, art shows, free music concerts and plenty of flower shows. I’ve walked in that park with my dogs, took refuge there after therapy sessions, followed paths looking for art treasures and sat by the water watching the ducks go by. I’ve spent an incredible amount of time in peace at that park so it seemed a fitting place  to release 6 white star balloons.

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In a World Gone Mad

Published on January 13, 2013 in Anger, Anxiety, Emotions, Grief Sadness Loss, Letters Home, Lupus Fibromyalgia, Mental Health and Relationships. 0 Comments Tags: , , .

I’d better find some self control quickly. Yes, last night was horrible. It was absolutely terrible but I can’t be like everyone else. I can’t be the loud mouth, violent speaking,  yelling at a moments notice kind of person that fills this world. Around 4:30 this morning I was a woman with no self control. And it matters not that I had a hard night. It doesn’t matter that I was in incredible pain or that around 4 am I was finally able to put my body on the bed and manage that pain too. Only to those closest to me is that relevant.

Self control is the first line of defense in a world gone mad.

At 4:30 am a car pulled and parked outside my bedroom window which happened to be open. His radio was blasting so loudly that it woke me up. He sat there with his windows down and the radio blasting.  I jumped up and yelled out to him, “It’s 4:30 in the morning. TURN THAT RADIO DOWN.” Finally some guy came out, got in the car and they drove off.

There was no cursing, nothing like that it was just that I should have closed my window, period. I need self control, less impulsivity.

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Joy buried under anxiety

Published on September 6, 2012 in Depression, Letters Home, Lupus Fibromyalgia, Mental Health and PTSD. 2 Comments Tags: , .

If there’s one thing that stood out for me this evening at services its this: Do not bury joy under a heavy load of anxiety concerning things I cannot control.

Here’s what I think about that. No one said ‘give up, don’t plan ahead, don’t make strides, don’t attempt to solve problems.’  What I gathered from that is that we cannot become so anxious that we lose out on joy because of how anxious we are about what may or may not happen.

About this doctor that came to my house today:

What she did was completely stupid, stupid beyond words.  I need to process it and put it in its place. Its place is not at the front of my life. Its a trigger that happened, but it is not the end of me nor is it the end of my medical treatment. The woman is by far  an A-list  ignoramus, but she is no longer my problem.

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I don’t want to fight with you anymore

Published on September 1, 2012 in Anger, Anxiety, Art Therapy, Depression, Emotions, Letters Home, Lupus Fibromyalgia and Mental Health. 2 Comments Tags: .

Dear Brain, I don’t want to fight with you anymore. You can stop calling me names now. You can stop belittling me, stop reminding me of how much I disappoint you. Shut up. Your arguments are tiresome.

Thursday evening I made it to services. Its been awhile since I was able to go but I made it. While there, a few more people introduced themselves to me. One person introduced herself and said she has Crohn’s Disease. An older woman introduced herself and has RA. I also met a young woman in her twenties with Lupus. When I talked to her my heart sank.  I thought, they’ve got to figure out something so this child doesn’t do the next 20 years imprisoned in her body.

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