Maybe Tomorrow

I have been sitting here staring at this blank page wondering what to say.  Hard to believe I would struggle with something to say, I know.  But, alas, there it is.  There has been a lot of activity of late; birthday parties, visitors, and everyday life adjustments.  But somehow through it all I have maintained a strong sense of detachment, and that is not good.

I know that stress is playing a role in my disconnect. I am very aware of this, but the disconnect still occurs whether I am cognizant of the fact or not.  Events happen in my life whether I give them permission or not, and right now my way of coping is to put a barrier between all that is going on and my mind.  

I know that hope remains.  I know that this funk I am in, compounded by life stressers, will eventually shift.  I know that even though every time I think we are getting on top of things and something else goes wrong like someone ends up in the ER, our lawnmower gets blown out, or one of our animals gets hurt, it is just a hit and will not last forever.  I get it. That still does not negate real time.

I attend a Bible study on Wednesdays, and it is very good for me and my hubby.  But I gotta say it gets old when some person in the group starts spouting off platitudes about freedom and victory, especially when he or she is 20 years old.  I have, thus far, remained silent in response, because I know the person means well.  But when, after the meeting, and elderly woman comes up to me and is in tears because she knows she is doing something wrong, because she is unable to be victorious in the midst of massive change, my blood begins to boil.

This woman lost her husband a year ago after spending most of a lifetime with him, and now on top of all that adjusting, she has another big change she is working through.  I just hugged her and told her that victory comes at many different points, and she is not failing because life sucks right now.  She is simply moving through the process, and that is where grace and hope factor in.  They get us to victory.  I assured her I am right there with her, and looking for the positive does not mean pretending things aren’t bad.  

I have known people that seem to skate through life with little or no diversity.  I do not understand how that happens, nor can I identify with it in any way.  I simply choose not to try to figure it out, but what amazes me is that it is often those people who feel they have the answers for everyone else. 

I know.  I know.  Try to speak to the good in life; that which is working, but here is the thing, sometimes, you have been in certain place for so long that it is difficult to see anything but what is right in front of your face, those things that are demanding, no screaming, for your attention, and they are not happy things.  They are not positive things.  They are crisis points. 

For me, after too many such crisis points that continually pop up for, say, half a year or more, I become extremely mentally fatigued.  It is difficult to remember things.  It is a challenge responding with anything other than emotional flat line, and I begin to get very claustrophobic in my life situation.  Everything I do becomes manual, and I struggle to function at the most basic of levels.  I am very frustrated with myself, because I, am once again, not normal, and no matter how many years go by with this illness, I will be forever reminded it is alive and well.  Case in point...

We had a barbeque with a couple of families in the neighborhood.  It took all day Saturday to get things ready.  I knew that the stress of getting things ready and then interacting with people would be a stress on my mind, especially right now when I am already dealing with depression.  But it needed to be done.  My family needs interaction, and it is not their fault they live with a recluse. 

I made it through the day.  It was a total God thing, and I only had one close call with a panic attack.  Very good for having 12 people in close quarters.  But since then I have been worthless.  I can hardly function mentally.  Sunday I could hardly rub two thoughts together.  Yesterday I slept most of the day, and when I got up, I was still exhausted.  I know what is going on.  I know that being over stimulated in combination with having to be social is just really hard on me, but the knowledge does little.  

So, I am reminded, once again, that I do not fall within normal parameters.  I never will.  I will always have limitations for coping with life in this world, and no matter how healthy I am or how well I plan, I will never experience recovery, as our mental health model is so fond of purporting.  I cannot recover, because it does not go away.  There is not room for recovery, because it is not possible to get back to a mind that is unaffected by mental illness.  I do damage control, and I maintain.  That is the way of things with an illness that has no cure.  Ask anyone with diabetes.  They will tell you the same.

Today, I have a list of things to do, a few of which require that I leave the house.  I may as well be scaling Mount Everest.  But I will do it in spite of the agoraphobia that wants to hold me hostage in my house.  Leaving the house and getting into the car will take a Herculean effort, but I will do it, because it needs to be done, and I need to keep forcing myself to keep pushing the disorder back into its place so that I don’t lose all the ground I have gained.

I will continue to force myself to respond to people in exchanges, because it has to be done.  I will smile when cued, respond appropriately when the conversation flow denotes it, and I will express emotional responses even though I do not feel them; have no emotional connection.  Then I will sleep a lot, because having to manually trigger myself in social situations is absolutely exhausting to my mental functions.  This is how I get through times like this until things balance out.  It is easier to attempt to appear somewhat as usual to people in my life, so that those relationships are not harmed overly much.  I can do things manually for a time.  I just can’t do it indefinitely.  

I suppose I should attempt a positive note here, but I have to be authentic in my writing, so I will express the only thing I know absolutely to be true right now, and that is that Abba is with me.  He never leaves me alone, and even though I see no point in life and continuing it, I know that he can handle what to do with my life and where to take me whether I see a point to it right now or not.  Today that is what I am hoping in.  Maybe tomorrow there will be victory.

L