About this time last year I posted a very emotional and hysterical post about all the scary things taking place in the world. And at a later date after watching it again, I removed it.
I was embarassed by my tears and emotional video. What a difference a year makes. A year of the right phsychiatric meds. Today I feel all the things I did the day I recorded the video. My reaction to those thought is 100% different.
When I started this venture I promised I would post the good and the ugly. I wasn’t true to my word by deleting it. In the future I will do better at being honest and open about my behaviors. I hope that one day even just one of my post helps you in this very exhausting struggle to pretend to be normal.
The alarm goes off, I spring into action. Shower, brush my teeth, do my hair and makeup and tend to the pets. Wake up honey lets go have coffee I tell my husband.
Can we go see the grandkids today? I ask. Do you want to visit the cabin? It is so nice this time of year. I’m having a good day.
Alarm goes off. I say,”Will you shut that fucking thing off.”. My husband asks, ” Want to go have coffee? “. No. I just want to sleep. I do have things to do today. I want nothing to do with any of it. I am absolutely exhausted. No desire to even get out of bed, and definitely not going in public today. It takes to much energy to pretend to be normal, and I am just not feeling up to it today. These are the days I am most use to. And to tell you the truth I enjoy my days of sollitude as compared to the days I am forced to socialize.
I give 100% when it comes to being a mother and grandmother. I put myself in uncomfortable situations all the time when tending to my loved ones. It really takes a toll on my mental illness at times. It is truly exhausting attempting to be the perfect grandparent and parent, I never fail them. In the process I become manic trying to keep up. Everything that goes up eventually must come down. Eventually, I plummit to the ground. You would think after all these years with these mental illnesses I would be expecting it, NOPE. As always the illness sneaks up and bites me right in the butt.
I start all over again taking extra care to take medications and get the rest I so desperately need. It last a week maybe two and the vicious cycle starts all over again.
I always have felt lost. Everything has to change all the time. That’s the BPD a subject for a different day. I suffered depression for many years. But then when I entered into a very abusive relationship, I couldn’t do anything right. I was never the same. I was to fat, dinner didn’t taste good. you name it, I wasn’t good at it.
After some time I started having thoughts of running my truck into semi’s or cliffs. That went on for years. I divorced him after 14 years of abuse. What I wasn’t prepared for was grieving him like I had buried him like he had died. Plus I gave up my son 50% of the time. Eventually, all I could think about is how I was going to do it. I had to wait until the boys were gone. And the minute they were I was in such a hurry I left the car door wide open, door to the house and the knife drawer with knifes scattered everywhere.
I did it, I slit my wrist. Fortunately, I just did a bunch of surface wounds because there wasn’t a sharp knife in the house. I wasn’t allowed knives in the house for years. I struggled for several years with several mood disorders, and was being abused again. I was married to a monster. And until I got rid of him I had no family, and the grandchild I was about to have was not allowed to be a part of my life. He was dangerous. I felt trapped. If I left I had to fear his wrath. I was going to do it the easy way. I took a handful of pills. They made me sick but I am still here.
I still from time to time get thoughts of self harm, Usually after feeling I’ve let my loved ones down. I have a lot to live for, with mental illness we become blinded at times.
Our Roses Were Yellow 
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