Hehe, sometimes it is good to be a psych student and go through shit :-) But that is my brief thought on that. I woke up in less pain today...still sad, but less pain...interesting.

Later.

4-27
Well, here I am. Now where is here…I’m still unsure. Things are going relatively well…and not so good at the same time. I am feeling many, many emotions- and that I am unused to…especially sadness- I finally feel it, I really do, but now I don’t know what to do with it. And there is just so much going on right.

I had therapy Monday morning, I had planned on talking some good stuff…but the same old thing happened- I put up my stupid walls and even when the subject of my one kiddo came up, I instantly went to little intellectual Erin instead of the feeling one. When I feel the pain…my tears well up almost instantly. And the pain is there I know. Stupid eyes.

I’m sad at the prospect of losing this child I have fought so damn hard for. It really is ripping my heart to shreds. I know all the boundaries and professionalism…but I am also human, as every therapist is…I think everyone has their “Sweet Kiddo” (my name for him since I won’t be disclosing his real name). He slipped under my radar and his charm, his radiance, his fighting spirit, the light in his eyes, his sarcasm (pretty good for being non-verbal lol), the way he rose to the challenges I put before him to push him past others limits. What a child. So there is the freakin’ sadness.

The anger is at several things. The first…I guess the parents somewhat. I know it’s their child and all that jazz, but still. To just suddenly stop therapy, with the ONLY therapist that has been able to reach your child…just doesn’t sit right to me. So yes, I think I am a little angry with them.

And…I am very angry with myself…not necessarily because I went to the hospital…but what led up to it- why couldn’t I have stopped it, you know? What could I have done differently!? What could I have done so that this would not have happened? Part of me feels responsible for what is happening to that kid, that his parents are discontinuing therapy and that in the end he will suffer greatly for this. If I hadn’t fucked up, I’d still be doing therapy and helping him and giving him a chance at life. So I am a little upset at myself- damn me.

So right now, I am just trying to figure things out. There is much to figure out, I think. I mean, the issue regarding my little guy is hopefully coming to an end and I’ll get closure. But there are so many more issues. And why have they cropped up?

I am changing…a lot. Something clicked while I was in the hospital…some things that can’t be “un-gotten.”

Or as someone ;-) once told me, “And then one day, [s]he gets it, and [s]he shows you that. And you see that [s]he gets it in a way that can't be un-gotten.

And so I am a changing person, from the way I interact with people, to my outlook on life and the direction my life is headed. I’m not necessarily a completely different person…in fact, I’m probably more “me” than I have ever been. Which is a good thing…for me. But it may be hard for other people to come to this acceptance of me finally moving into who I am, who I wish to be and the direction of my life.

When I wake up in the morning…I do feel pain- for so much…not just the child I want to work with still, but for a lot of things…a lot of loss- from the semi-loss of real parents (though my Dad is awesome and has been a great support- it’s my mom and step father I’ve lost), from remembering my childhood and realizing…I didn’t get one, knowing that I grew up too fast and missed out on a lot of childhood joys, the loss of security- since I didn’t get that for most of my life, the loss of so many friendship, the loss in really living life- since I’ve been just surviving for most of it.

Before…I would have stuffed these feelings, I would have denied these losses…I would have not deal with them. And because of that, I’d go into depressions, with or without med problems. I woke up everyday just hating myself…not the situations that made me this way. And so many mornings I woke up just wanting to die. I remember lying in bed just asking God to kill me that day- let a car hit me or something- just anything- just make me gone. Or other days, I said to myself to do it. This reminds me of a song by Tori Amos, Crucify:

“Why do we
Crucify ourselves
Every day
I crucify myself
Nothing I do is good enough for you
Crucify myself
Every day
And my heart is sick of being in chains”

That’s what I did essentially (if you take the crucify definition as, To treat cruelly; torment or To criticize harshly). I treated myself cruelly; I tormented myself and of course criticized myself harshly for the most part. Why? Well…I did grow up that way, obviously, so it was what I was used to…even though in my late teens, only emotional abuse was left... eventually I didn’t need my mother’s words to degrade myself…I could do it all by myself because the words became ingrained in me, it was I thought was normal- it was what I was used to and didn’t know that I had the power to change. I accepted the fact that there was something inherently wrong with me and I should be punished for it. Bring in cutting and other self-destructive things- it did several things, from release the tension, to wanting to ‘see’ my pain, to punishing myself for being a fuck up and worthless…and to keep the feelings at bay. So…I crucified myself everyday, nothing was good enough…and I got to the point where I was sick of being in those chains (enter therapy…! Yes!).

And now of course I’m reminded of another Tori Amos song, Silent All These Years:

I got something to say you know
But nothing comes
Yes I know what you think of me
You never shut-up
Yeah I can hear that
------------------------
Hey but I don't care
cause sometimes
I said sometimes
I hear my voice

And it's been here
Silent All These Years
I've been here
Silent All These Years

After all these years…I am gaining back my voice. I think I began to find it maybe a year ago (hence while family things became rocky- they didn’t like what I had to say). But…I hear my voice; I know what it is saying. I’m tired of being silent all these years…it is time to make a stand and be me.

And it is more than just my voice that has been silent. My heart and soul has been quiet, hiding out in its dwelling. And the memories- put in a little box in my head (locked tightly with about 10 different locks (a.k.a. defense mechanisms)). I didn’t trust my heart and didn’t want the memories- I didn’t want to feel and I would have done anything to keep it that way and very nearly succeeded on making it that permanent.

When I entered the hospital, it then became a fight for more than just my life…it was my head versus my heart. The first week- the head won- I intellectualized, I used my mind, my intelligence…and was let out. But only to plan my suicide again. So in I went again…and this time- my heart won. My heart is ready to talk… my memories are ready to be told, the stories are ready to be told.

Honestly, at this point in my life…hell- I don’t have a damn thing figured out. I used to need to be so certain- have a game plan, know exactly what is going to happen. But now…I’m taking it one day at a time. I’m not graduating on time, probably an extra year is needed…oh well- I’m alive! I don’t know about grad school or where I’ll go with my company. But that’s okay- I love my job, I’ve very, very good at it, so part me is not worried about being able to keep doing that.

This is what I figure: I am alive each day…one day I will have a job I love, I’ll live in the city I call my home…and I will be happy. I am healing…I will make it to that picture I have in my head. I have lots of obstacles in my way at this time…but that is all they are- obstacles. Nothing that can’t be moved or go around.

It’s funny, when I’ve spoken to people about autism and ABA therapy…I’ve also told them that no matter what- if I’m given a program for a child and the initial way is not working…I have about ten different ways to teach it to the child- we will find out what works because in the end, something will (part of the determined, stubborn, persistent me).

Why I never made that translation into my own life, I don’t know! But I see it now. With these obstacles and problems in my life- they aren’t immoveable, they aren’t permanent and they will not kill me. I just have to find the solutions. And not just by myself- I’m learning to use my friends, my therapy as tools to find these solutions. I know in the end I do walk the road alone, some things I have to do myself, but I have supports to cheer me along the way.

I’ve been thinking about the therapy I provide to these little guys (my good ole little guy has kinda been on my mind a lot). And some good parallels can be made. Like the one I mentioned above. These kids don’t know where their life is going- there are so many variables, even I don’t know. All I can do is teach the skills and take them to their full potential (hehe and then some!). That’s what I need to do. Learn the skills to take me where I need to go- wherever that may be. I don’t know, and that’s okay. My kids, and their families trust me, to take their child step-by-step to wherever the road may lead us all…I need to learn to trust myself to some extent as well- AND trust the people that are helping me step by step, whether it’s my kickass therapist, supportive professors, and good friends.

I need to be able to trust them with my thoughts, with my life- with my vulnerabilities. Being vulnerable is probably one of the hardest things to do, at least for me. In the past, when I have been vulnerable- it has been scary. As a child, I couldn’t show any vulnerability’s for fear it may be exploited. (Warning- hard subject), with the sexual abuse, I was vulnerable…and well, we know what happens there…and it took several people doing this to me to learn to find my voice to say no more. And I locked up my vulnerability as far as those type of relationships go. With friendships, as a kid- you can imagine- I was quite spunky, upbeat, extroverted, charming etc…and had lots of friends. But of course a lot of it was a mask- no one had ANY idea what happened in my home. And I wasn’t allowed to speak of it, nor did I want to. Of course High School- everyone was judgmental and stuck up, so that is a no go. College- to some extent I tried it, but of course…everyone eventually left my side because it was too much. So showing any kind of vulnerability, so f’in hard. You have no idea.

But now…I’m trying. I did have a difficult therapy session this session, but not for many of the old reasons. It was difficult because I tried my best to be as real as possible, to let myself down a bit and really talk. There were points where I wanted to cry and probably could have, but just wasn’t ready to let go…in time I suppose. Haven’t cried today, but I feel it every second.

“Well I know a woman with a collection of sticks
She could fight back the hundreds of voices she heard
And she could poke at the greed, she could fend off her need
And with anger she found she could pound every word.
But one voice got through, caught her up by surprise
It said, "Don't hold us back, we're the story you tell,"
And no sooner than spoken, a spell had been broken
And the voices before her were trumpets and tympani
Violins, basses and woodwinds and cellos, singing”

"We're so glad that you finally made it here
You thought nobody cared, but we did, we could tell
And now you'll dance through the days while the orchestra plays
And oh, you're aging well."
Dar Williams, You’re Aging Well

My spell has been broken…I can feel the difference in every bone in my body, in the way my heart feels, the hope and faith my soul has shown me, and the way my mind has surrendered. I do feel such contradiction with in myself- but that is okay- it’s comforting and uncomfortable at the same time. It’s comforting because this is where I know I need to be and I’m in good spirits because of that. It’s uncomfortable…I’m in territory I’ve never been in! So of course I’d be unsure of just about everything. I FINALLY made it here, people do car…and hell- I am finally aging well ;-)

So here I am. With so much yet to learn, but I have come so far. While before I described myself, after break downs as “not lost or found,” but I think now…I have been found at least to some extent. I’ve been described by a certain someone :-) as, having good insight, kind, generous, loving, intelligent, having humility, plucky, energetic, hopeful and driven. Haha, go me, those are all good things I’m guessing.

I am alive...that is not only a testament of my strength, but of my courage (yes, I’m actually complimenting myself haha). It was easier to run away, whether it’s numbing myself, or using self injury to hide or wanting to commit suicide. But somewhere, in all that horrible depression and my drive to die…something inside me did want to live. I know this because somehow, someway I did let people know my intensions. Even if at the time I didn’t mean to give something away, some part of me did. Some part of me always wanted to live- I just didn’t know how!

Until something clicked in my head, and that drive to die, became a drive to live. I wanted to die to end my pain, to yes, make a permanent solution to a temporary problem, to runaway because I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings or my obstacles- and most of all my drive to die came from fear…I was scared shitless…of screwing up, of making the wrong decisions, or not doing things “right” and screwing my life up. Scared of feeling feelings, of letting them lose- all of them…and facing up and owning up and being responsible for myself, my actions and my life.

But then…I wanted to live. Plain and simple. How did that happen- I am not a hundred percent sure- a lot of it was looking deep inside of myself…a lot of it was good counseling while in Snowden, and getting support from friends on the outside. And realizing that my worth was not dependent upon certain conditions. And seeing one of my kids while in there helped too. And thinking about them.

I love my job, I care for these kids fiercely and I fight for these children, who cannot advocate for themselves. And I refuse to set limits on these children because all of them are capable of so much; they just need someone to believe in them. And believe in them I do. And no, I’m not just living for them, because on some level they need me…but the joy I receive from my job and working with them. I do have some life purpose, at least part of it- is to help these children. I have been given a gift…and that is the gift to be able to connect and work with these children in a way that many people cannot. That is a wonderful gift to have, and one I don’t plan on taking for granted.

And I have other aspects that I do like about myself. I am intelligent- though my grades often do not reflect what I know (mainly because I know my life’s work, and I honestly don’t give a rats ass about human geography or music theory), but I know what I know. And I enjoy learning, mostly outside of the classroom. I had a hell of a time with my recent autism research project…and I’m right smack in the middle of a wonderful research project about Self Injury. And I have at least two books in my head that I hope to become a reality one day. I am curious by nature and have a great thirst for knowledge- I consider it an asset and something I really do cherish.

My passion is evident- I’m passionate about my work, research, psychology in general, children, hope, faith and I am passionate about life. After all the shit that has happened, hell if I made it through ALL of that- I was SO meant to live and I plan on embracing that!

By all rights I sometimes think I should be dead- from the times I have dangerously overdosed and not told anyone, or the bad self injuring, or the several suicide plans (luckily found out about), and the abuse I did take for so many years, it’s a lot.

But I am here, for so many reasons. I do have faith, I do believe in God, and though I rarely mention my own spiritual beliefs, I will here for a moment. There are just some things in my life that I can’t explain through completely logical reasons. First- the people that have been in my life and kept me going. I was, of course, in school, generally on great terms with the teacher. Though most never knew what was really going on, being able to talk with them about school (my curious nature- I just always wanted to know more), helped a lot- good distraction (I’m glad  I was a good student for most of my schooling!). The guidance counselor I had in high school- I know I would be dead without her. She gave me the strength to be vulnerable a little bit- enough to send me in a tail spin to get me help. And she didn’t leave (now that I think about it, my initial belief that everyone has always left…is untrue). We still talk to this day. I have no doubt she was there for a reason. And there was another staff member in high school who has remained in touch. Though I don’t go into my troubles with her, it’s good when I’m home for us just to hang out, be sarcastic and have some laughs.

In my first year of college I met an incredible professor. Our personalities were very similar and initial I told her nothing, but was just interested in knowing more about psychology- so she was a great person to just sit down and talk to different aspects of psychology. And of course our relationship evolved to where it is now (lol she practically knows everything, but that’s not the core of our relationship), where we are involved in so many projects and just love talking about life and psychology. And she is still here- she’s seen the highs, she has seen the lows…and just because she is my professor- doesn’t mean she had to be a support…but she stayed. She is a very special person and I think she has been put there for a reason (it was miraculous I made it into her class freshman year- psych is hugely popular and I was late getting classes due to getting in off the wait list). And there was another prof I got for English fresh year, so we met, and then last semester (junior year) she was prof again and when things begin to hit the fan and I went to Day Treatment…she was so incredibly understanding. But that semester, we talked more about her son (diagnosed with Asperger’s (in the autism spectrum), so I drew on my experience and helped her figure out where and how to get help for him. No coincidence again, I believe for both him and me. So this semester when things hit the fan, though I didn’t have her in class, she found out and called me often while there and was a support. What led up to all this, no coincidence. I’ll be working with her son this summer!!! He’s another sweetie!

And finally, my counselor (so much could be said). I called about five different ones…she was the ONLY one to call back. That is NO coincidence…you would think a counselor would call back, you know! No way was she put into my life without a little help.

And there are various other incidents and people that I have met, that leaves me no doubt in my faith. And, I have faith in the big picture- I am alive for a reason- there are things I need to do and accomplish. Perhaps I’m already doing some of it…the kids I work with- that’s a pretty damn big impact. So my life is going somewhere (just drives me nuts that I don’t know where lol). So I do have faith.

And finally…I have hope…I don’t know if I ever lost it, despite what I may have said. Honestly, I don’t think I’d be here if I hadn’t had hope at some level, no matter how small.

”Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come.” 
~Anne Lamott

You know, “I’m stubborn, determined and persistent” so I figure…hope must have shared those damn qualities hehe. Thank goodness. Hope pushes me forward…I think hope has made me look at my reflection in the mirror and see the good.

“I stood in the bathroom, looking in the mirror, and I didn’t recognize myself,” she says, recalling that fateful day. “It was my face looking back at me in the mirror, but my soul wasn’t there. It was just a body to me, and I didn’t feel part of it anymore. I felt I had lost control of my thoughts, my emotions, and my actions. And when you have lost control of everything, what do you have left?"
"Bright Red Scream" Marilee Strong

That is how I felt, exactly. But my stubborn hope did something incredible…it made me look in the mirror and see more than just a body: It made me see me. It put a heart and soul back into this face looking back at me. It made me smile and say, “this is me.” It is interesting, how I did look in the mirror- and it was just a body honestly…that reflection was nothing to me and so I refused to look. What was the point? It just reminded me how life less I was (due to stuffing and all that jazz).

Now that I FEEL alive…I can see it to…see it in my eyes (which give FAR too much away lol). I found the light in my eye again. Ready to take on the challenges before, ready to tell the stories, for they give insights into what does make me tick- to help prevent any future journey to darkness, and help me see what sometimes goes wrong in my life.

Now…I have hopes, dreams, wonders about the future, smiles and joy. I also feel much pain, sadness, anger, fear. But…that is natural…hope is allowing me to deal with both and to see both. I am alive, I FEEL alive for the first time in years…no that’s not right…This IS the FIRST time I have felt this alive.

Yes…right now I’m in a lot of pain…but you know, thank God for that. It’s about damn time lol. Weird to say, but it is wholly true. I want to feel this pain, I want to grieve this pain (still need to learn that though), I want to understand this pain, and then…I want to move on from the pain. And I must say, I think I can make a list of about ten major things causing all of this pain and I’ve decided…I’m just going to go through each one as they come, as I feel I can handle them. Instead of wallowing in it, I’m ready to face it one by one and come to closure, come to resolution. I can’t stay in pain forever. So it’s time.

Because….I also feel much joy. As much as it hurts to be in this mess with this one child- I have so many joyful memories that no one can take away from me. Ha- crying now…seems remembering the joy, brings the sadness. And there are other things to by happy about.

So, to recap. I have a HELL of a LOT of feelings…but they aren’t in the box anymore, they are out roaming, waiting for me take care of them. But it’s not sending me into panic or depression- it’s sending me into grief…and much awareness and understanding. And I am in very good spirits…just taking things as they come and going on. Because life does go on, nothing has been worth dying over.

Okay, this is my very long rant that I do sometimes when I feel like I’ve hit a turning point. Don’t care if you’ll get stuck reading it and it seems endless- these are my thoughts, honest and truthful.

I’m here…I’m alive…and I’m living.

And all I could eat was the poisonous apple
And that's not a story I was meant to survive
I was all out of choices, but the woman of voices

She turned round the corner with music around her,
She gave me the language that keeps me alive, she said:

”I'm so glad that you finally made it here
With the things you know now, that only time could tell
Looking back, seeing far, landing right where we are
And oh, you're aging, oh and I am aging,
Oh, aren't we aging well?”
Dar Williams, You’re Aging Well

And a note for someone: Thank you to the “woman of voices” for giving me the language to keep me alive. Because you did, you know. I am looking back…but then looking forward. I have landed right where I need to be.

I finally made it here. Thank you.

Good night everyone.

4-25
As I was trying to catch my two hour nap, I was listening to my favorite music...Dar Williams and had a thought. She probably has one best voices I've ever heard...not to mention the lyrics are kickass.

I was listening to a live version of "You're Aging Well" and it was actually a duet with Joan Baez for this live version...and the only accompaniment was an acoustic guitar and Joan's voice. And the song was kickass...how many artists do you know that can sing and hold their own with just an acoustic guitar, and that was barely playing at that- not many. And she's the ONLY artist I know, where I can listen to her and never tire...literally- my favorite songs are in my winamp and in my car. There are a few Dar songs with duets or with Lucy Kaplansky and Richard Schindell. I also have several Lucy Kaplansky songs on there, I like her a lot (though could only listen to maybe at most four songs in a row before I'd need to have someone else in there), there are a few particular songs I like. I have two Sarah McLachlan songs thrown in there, as well as two Tori Amos, two Ani DeFranco, one Five For Fighting, one Tom Rush, and one Martina McBride...and all Dar. Pretty fuckin' cool if you ask me.

I think music is one of the best therapeutic tools ever. At the hospital, my favorite group was always music therapy. Though, I'm sure it helped, there was a kickass music therapist, ranks up there with my therapist...so that's saying something. I remember asking one of the counselors there how I could relax...I had done those little relaxation groups time and again, but they never helped...I'd try to relax and just when I thought I was all relaxed, suddenly I'd realize that I was STILL tense in some way (can we say hyper-vigilant?). So before I left, I asked how could I possible get this relaxation thing going. I'm great at deep breathing- piece of cake. But this is just another example of how I KNOW stuff, but don't feel or can't do something.

So she suggested I try it with my favorite music. So I think I will try that sometime soon. Not tonight, too wound up obviously. So yeah...felt like writing a little something...because I was just impressed with Dar again. lol. I keep waiting for August, I'll get to see her live- finally! Wahoo.

Okay...back to pretending to take a nap, but really just laying there listening to my favorite music. Music is good :-)

4-25
Well it's six am and I'm still up. My sleeping schedule is still way off. I think it's just because my life is way off. I mean, I had to withdraw from my classes, so no exams...what do I spend my time doing? Procrastinating from packing! Fun! I think I will resume a more regular schedule here in the next two weeks.

I was going to write a cool rant...but now I'm too tired...so I'm just putting up a poem I wrote yesterday. It explains where I was and where I am going. I like it. And hey, it finally got me out of my writers block!!! Anyway...enjoy as always. More late

This Day

Looking back there is so much pain,
She sees the darkness coming
And a frightened little girl that sits in a corner,
Unable to free her heart from the chains.

Now that little girl uses blood to heal
All those wounds suffered so long ago,
Her skin has become the battleground
For emotions she doesn’t know how to feel.

Though swearing to end all of this pain,
When life gets to be too much
She wants to know she’s still alive,
And uses the blade to remain sane.

She looks down at all those scars,
Remembering each time she lost control.
She frowns, as a tear softly falls-
Oh she has come so far.

She turns to feel the light,
As the sun casts a heavenly glow
Upon this beautiful woman,
Whose finally winning this fight.

She says no when the choice is before her-
She uses words instead of the blade,
She uses tears instead of those so crimson-
Her fighting spirit no one could deter.

At the end of the road this day,
She turns to see her future-
She sees those dreams shining brightly
And smiles knowing she has found her way.

Ni...I mean 'Morning!'

4-24

4-20
Well...I had another GOOD day...it's fun having these in a row. My second day back to work and it was great again. Since it was nice outside, I decided to do therapy with one of my kiddo's outdoors. I have now had enough exercise for the next month. They have a long driveway, uphill from the house, and he likes to bolt up it, so I have to scramble after him because he will not stop when I ask him to. So guess what a new program for him is? Yup, a stop program. So his mom is downhill and I'm uphill, and I have to stop him whenever she says stop. Lots of running for me- LOTS. It is going to take a good three/four weeks for him to get this down- so I figure I've got my exercise for the next month now lol.

One of my other kids I saw today...I think she forgot how stubborn I was and was throwing a few fits about having to work...but we worked through it and she was her charming self by the end. Cute! I have missed them! And tonight we had a party, my company throws at the end of each semester. It was great seeing the families and my bosses again. I love my work :-)

Tomorrow I meet with one prof, so I'm starting the process on what to do about school. Thursday I meet with Academic Services to really find out what will happen. Hopefully good things. Tomorrow will be a long day! Meet with prof at 10, then I meet with an on campus counselor who runs the support group (she wanted to know how I was doing and what was up), then meet with my prof who I'm doing the SI research with. Then I might actually attend a class (depends on the prof, he will email me tomorrow)...and then it's work and then I have to write a final paper with my research team at night! Phew. Actually...the whole rest of the week is packed full. Go me. But it's slightly less stressful stuff, just figuring out what to do with school and stuff- so not too bad. And I'm pretty close to finding a place to live for the summer, so that is good.

So overall...I'm doing alright. There are still some things weighing on me, but I'll get through them. I'll see my parents this weekend, should be interesting (phone calls have been awkward, short and much silence). There is still some drama surrounding one of my kids discontinuing therapy- I have tabled that topic in my head until it is fully resolved, maybe then I will sit down, let the sadness over come me and cry...we shall see. Not ready yet. And a whole host of other issues, I'm just not thinking about right now- I have to get other stuff in order. So that is fine by me.

Alright, Seroquel seems to be taking over...in bed before midnight for a second night in a row- GO ME! Have a good night everyone.

Night.

4-19
So today while I was out walking (yes! Out in the sun, wahoo, fresh air!)...I had a picture in my head- a few years down the road- I'd be living in my town (and actually in town, not the outskirts), either in school or working with the kids full time...and in this picture I was just downtown, walking my dog and enjoying myself. I was happy...and I could feel that.

So I'm working toward that picture. I want that, very, very much. So I'll be taking it one day at a time, working through my shit, learning the fundamentals of fun, of happiness, of being at peace. I'm in a good mood now, been in one, just really looking forward to the future. I do know what it can be, I just have to figure out how to make it happen. My original plans are gone, so now I have to go to plan b's and c's and d's lol. I'm working my way to it...may not be the most direct route- but it's a route and I'm getting there.

So that is what I have to say tonight. I have that picture in my head and I will hang on to it- I'm working toward it...I will get there ( I am stubborn, determined and persistent after all). Alright, Seroquel is now kicking in, so I will say goodnight. And have a nice pleasant dream about that picture in my head.

Night.

4-19
I'm ready for my future. I'm ready to change the shit, I'm ready to be me...the real me inside, the one I feel, the one I know, the one I see when I look in the mirror. It's time.

4-19
Deleted Post- it was bad, it was wrong, and I don't feel that way anymore.

4-17
I'm falling back into my life. I've spent a total of 19 days in the local mental hospital. Planned to take my life twice. Even added more scars in this bought of craziness.

So what happened to lead to such a horrific breakdown? I think several things played key factors. One, meds were WRONG most definitely and thus I had nothing to regulate the up's and down's. Second, parents were screwing with my education and with my mind. Third...I didn't use the support systems in place. Fourth- my reality- just plain fucking wrong.

In the last three weeks, I have been in Mental Hell. Everything so screwed up in my head, I couldn't see or think straight. My reality was shaded in crimson; it was twisted and broken...and led me to want to end my life.

I woke up one day...just tired, so very tired of fighting. It is hard...to wake up each day and have to fight. It's something that most of us have to deal with. And yeah, it fuckin sucks, but it's something we have to do to remain alive. But the fighting was just getting too hard...and I will say this- I own up to it being my fault that the fighting was getting too hard. I was not doing things to make it just a little easier.

I wouldn't talk to anyone, I kept my life super stressful, and I didn't listen to advice given to me. And so now, the difference between getting up and fighting three weeks ago and today are vastly different.

I feel much freer these days. I have decided that I will not graduate on time. It would just be too hard and too stressful to do that. I would have to take summer school, which for the average person may not be so bad, for me, after what just happened- I need a breather. I need time to just be me. So I let go...I let go of that one stringent fact that was a major load on my chest.

I had a family meeting where I was completely and utterly honest with my family- it went very badly of course. But I needed to know where my parents stood one way or another and I got that closure. They of course were all good and I was all bad, but hey, at least I know where I stand with them, so now I can work on how to handle them. They won't change, but it IS within my power to change how I interact with them.

I am on lots of good medication that together is working:

Lithium, Lamictal, Effexor, Seroquel, Xanax, Concerta- It's a lot, sure, but each helps a different component within me...if it works- I don't care if I have to take a hundred meds.

I have a support system and family in the town that I live in. I didn't really get any visitors while I was in the hospital, but I did get at least six phone calls a night. My counselor called almost everyday, two professors called everyday and various individuals called. It actually awed me. I never knew I had such support here. And now I know I can use them. I can pick up the phone and call someone when I feel like shit.

And damnit, when one of my kids (that i work with) came to visit with his mom...right then and there- suicide was NOT an option worth exploring anymore. Hugging him, looking in his eyes, hearing his voice, seeing his smile- broke my heart. He doesn't talk much, but when he first got to the courtyard at the hospital he kept calling out my name looking for me. And another child, who is higher functioning, I talked to her on the phone and she was so excited to talk to me and it was just great. I can't leave them.

So, I fall back into my life again. I am stepping out and away from death, from darkness, from the past...and stepping up and in to life, to love, to living a hell of a life.

I'm sorry that it has take me a few days to post since I was released from the hospital (well post more than just: I’m alive), but I needed time to gather myself together. There is this one quote that says,

“Did he know from the outset that ten days in a mental hospital, at least the first time, is only enough for the coming apart altogether, and that the putting back together, if it gets done at all, will be prolonged and in some ways more dangerous than the collapse itself. Perhaps not.”

My 19 days in the hospital for sure was the full coming apart- and I yelled and I cried and I came apart...and now, from the last two days there to now, I am coming back together, building myself together again, to someone I like and respect. To someone I can actually look at in the mirror. What a gift that is.

In the coming weeks and days, I'll post more about my experience and what I have learned. This was my sixth hospital visit in three/four years and I am only 20. I think that is enough.

It's time to stop just surviving life...but time to start living life.

4-15
Just a quick note: I am alive and well. Had to go back to inpatient- long story that I will explain later. I am utterly exhausted at the current moment. Just know that I am safe and very much alive.

It's time to stop just surviving this life...and begin to live life.

4-5
"I asked the habitual partygoer just how high she thought she'd get,
And I asked the ethereal girls if they were floating yet

And so I asked the light of the day, what's this rush for heaven,
Then I saw a bird fly away, and I could not ask again.

The tabloid-tainted actress knows the myth of higher ground.
The thing she got from playing a nun she got from sleeping around.

And so I asked the light of the day, what's this rush for heaven,
Then I saw a bird fly away, and I could not ask again.

And I've been running uphill, panting, punching at the air,
Fighting what's been pushing me down, as if it's really there.

And so I asked the light of the day, what's this rush for heaven,
Then I saw a bird fly away, and I could not ask again.

And I saw all this climbing, climbing, just as far from heaven,
Then I saw a bird fly away, and I started climbing again. "
-Dar Williams, I Saw a Bird Fly Away

"And I've been running uphill, panting, punching at the air,/ Fighting what's been pushing me down, as if it's really there." I've been fighting and fighting what has been pushing me down. I fought last week in the hospital, I'm fighting this week in Day Treatment. But I'm still stuck in frustration.

Everyone is saying I am better blah blah blah. How can I possibly be better when I'm STILL ending up in the hospital. I don't understand that. Isn't being better supposed to stop me from being in the hospital?? I'm just so sick and tired of everything, most especially of fighting. Today, for the first time in probably forever, I wanted to break down and cry. I was so angry and so upset that I was shaking in group. I snapped at one group members comments, mainly because he was "full of shit." And I snapped when it came to my turn. I was literally shaking I was so upset...my voice even shaking as I talked. It was so hard to remain calm and have composure. And I'm still angry and upset.

What's happened to me? Why has my mind suddenly taken this turn for the worst? I do not know. All I do know is I'm tired. Really tired. Am I safe to be in Day Treatment? Probably not. Right now the only thing that is keeping me going is that I don't want to let my research team down and my professor. We have a major presentation to give Thursday afternoon on a project we've worked hard on. I know if I did anything right now it would destroy their chances of giving a good talk since I have a major component of it.

But after Thursday, the talk etc...all bets are off. If I feel like shit then, I'm going to do something about it. I'm sick and tired of being like this, and I'm just sick and tired of being sick and tired. Call me a coward, go ahead, I don't give a shit any longer. I made a promise to myself about six months ago...and now I plan to make good on that promise.

Sorry for the crappy rant...but I do tend to tell the truth...unfortunately (or fortunately?) I am honest almost to a fault...so here's my nightly dose of honesty...love it, hate it- I don't really give a fuck.

4-5
"Oh my fair North Star, I have held to you dearly, I had asked you to steer me,
Till one cloud-scattered night, I got lost and in my travels I met Leo the lion,
Met a king and met a giant, with their errant light,

There's the wind and the rain, and the mercy of the fallen,
Who say they have no claim to know what's right.
There's the weak and the strong and the beds that have no answer,
And that's where I may rest my head tonight. "

My favorite song. Another day has gone by. Another day of frustration and anger. I begin the count until I can finally lay my head to rest. It's so close, peace is so close.

4-3
Sad. I am very sad right now. I just got back from the hospital. A friend of mine overdosed yesterday and is in the ICU. We met while I was inpatient in the hospital. We clicked right away and helped each other heal...or so I thought. He was in good spirits when he left the hospital, even called me while I was still in. We emailed each other Thursday/early Friday. Then I was in day treatment on Friday from 9-3. He called me at 2 something and left a goodbye message. I heard the message about 8:00pm, after I tried calling him numerous times. I was a wreck last night.

I got a hold of his brother this morning and found out he was in the ICU etc. I went to the ICU to visit him. I was there when he first woke up lucid. He stayed coherent for about an hour and a half. Then he fell back into incoherency, confusion and hallucinations. But I stayed with him until he fell asleep for the night. So I was there over eight hours or so. It was tearing me apart. I wish I had my cell on when he called. I was playing a game for my last group session, meanwhile he was thinking of suicide and leaving me a good bye message.

Could I have done something? Should I have called Thursday night instead of email? Is there something I could have done??? The guilt is killing me. It was hard enough trying to keep myself safe- this weekend has been extremely anxiety filled. I miss him and for once...I'm on the other side of suicide. It's an interesting perspective. To be caring for the one whose attempted suicide, rather than the one who attempted.

Personally...I don't like either side. So I hope he gets better soon...give him a good ass-kickin. But anyway. I better get some sleep. Going to get up and get to the hospital tomorrow morning and stay until I have to meet with my research team. I will be praying tonight, so if anybody out there prays as well...please pray for my friend. Thanks. Night.

4-1
A week in the hospital and I'm safe and sane again. I'm pretty exhausted, as I got out tonight, so I won't say much tonight. But...it's good to be back. I am still in partial (day treatment), probably for the next week.

I need to thank a few people who helped to save my life: First and foremost- my counselor...without her, I'm sure I would have been dead by now. Thank you for your kindness, caring and support. A close second is my professor. She called everyday and one day in particular, really helped to turn my thinking around. I thank her for her kindness, caring and just...for being there for me for three long years and really caring about me, and for teaching me so much, most of it outside the classroom. I thank one of the patients I befriended while inpatient. His first day in, he told me I was "full of shit," and I told him to "go to hell, you don't know what the fuck you're talking about." That was the start of a great friendship! His kindness, his insight and humor- helped me so much. I'm very much indebted to him. And finally, I do thank the staff at the hospital (well, besides one asshole counselor)...they were pretty great and they've put me in a good position to be safe at night and continue treatment in the day.

And so- those are my thank-yous to those that really impacted my treatment and are responsible for me being here today. I will write more on what transpired...but for now- I'm exhausted and need to try and sleep. Talk to you all soon.

"Well, life is as hard and as easy as they say
Walking the steps we've chosen on this day
Some will be outrageous, some have rarely shown
Some will walk in couples, some will walk alone

As I think about the world I see
They stare and smile at me, at me

It happens every day at the crossing of the street
Walking out to see what's new and what is just the same
And the only word for love is everybody's name
And that will always stay
It happens every day"
-Dar Williams, It Happens Every Day