Yes, these things

Medicine

 Tonight I got so angry that I could have cried. I do not tell people that I take medicine, it is something so personal and private.  Growing up everyone around me that I lived with took medicine, lots of medicine and it was a big deal.  I always saw it as the easy way out.  I hated the medicine that my parents took.  I can not even explain all the reasons why, because some of them i don't even know.  But them taking all the medicine that they did made me angry, more than Angry.

Finally for me after fighting for a very very long time after doing the work, fighting the fight I decided that for the Depression and the anxiety I needed something to help because all of the things that I was doing just was not enough. And I hated that, I hated to admit it, I hated the fact that I could not do things on my own, that I couldn't just change things, I couldn't make myself, happy, I couldn't stop the anxiety.  It was bad,  there were mornings that I laid in bed and there was nothing.  It  literally felt like the great nothing.  So I made the choice I kept it quiet, I did what was right for me.  And it so made a difference.   Some of the weight of the world was lifted, I found myself less anxious and uptight with the kids.  It was a good choice, the right choice for me.  Just one medicine, and it made a difference. It was my personal decision and something that was more than important that I didn't for one second take lightly.

So all that to say these last few months I have not had my medicine.  I have to make an appointment for a refill, and the money just hasn't been there. In the grand scheme of things, that just is the last thing on the list. I can tell the difference, I can see the OCD coming out more and more. In my world things have to be a certain way,  things have to be in a certain place, things NEED to be a certain way.  That sounds crazy but I can't even explain it, the need for things to be clean and clear and have a place lessens some of the anxiety. I can feel myself getting more irritated. At little things, at the kids, at life, at people.   That sadness that doesn't go away yea that is there too.  But the world doesn't stop.  I have a house to take care of, my children to protect and nurture, my job to protect and nurture others kids so I can pay for all of the good things in life house, food, electricity ,water.  None of things go away.  SO I have not made going to the dr a priority, because there are so many other things that need my attention. I can feel the difference, and I feel the things that I hate more and more. I never ever even planned on telling her, but she found out back when I lived on creekview and saw it on my nightstand.  I never wanted her to know, for the reasons that I experienced tonight.


So tonight, I made a comment about the OCD and how I could tell the difference with my medicine and blahblah.  I was sharing because that was my life.  A part of me that I don't share, that I thought would be safe too share.  It didn't mean to come out like it did but my mom made some comment like yea,  what a difference, some comment that felt snarky, that felt like a jab,  and I told her that wasn't cool. The look the comments about how I yelled at her for getting water on the window behind the sink. I shrank in my skin.  And I was so angry I said something that I don't even remember and it broke my heart.  Because it's something that is such a personal thing and in that moment it didn't at all feel safe and I didn't feel supported or cared for and it sucked.   It just like a how's the weather, but for me its everything opposite its something so very personal .  So in all of this.  I will not share anymore.  I will not mention anything or anything that it has to do with.  I will carry it on my own.  I am keeping my fingers crossed that next month I get to make an appointment and I will begin to feel better, I will feel lighter.  I think I realized that still there is great SHAME in taking medicine that I can't do it on my own.  And that is hard.  That is really hard.  It doesn't make everything perfect, but it makes the sharp edges not so sharp as I keep fighting for myself and my family.  I will stop writing. If I write anymore I will start to cry and I am sure the tears will be many and may cause a flood.

I heart your heart .

Just to many everything, close to mid year