I almost died last year

We’re 9 days into the New Year. I find it hard to believe it’s already 2019, yet here we are, and I’m still pushing along. I look back on my last year and think about how amazing it has been. Even with all of the amazing, everything almost went terribly wrong. I almost died.

I wish I could say it was a car accident or something if the sort, but I can’t. I almost took my own life. Even with everything that was happening, all of the good, I was still suffering. My own demons, my own mind. Both were attacking me and pulling me under. I was holding it all inside for months, maybe longer. I was so happy during my pregnancy, but then I had her. She was perfect in every way, absolutely perfect. I would look at her, and just think of how perfect she was, but everything changed.

I’m not sure exactly when it all changed, but it was like I was in a room and I only had one light, and someone flipped the switch. It all went dark. And in that darkness I couldn’t find the switch to turn the light on again. I struggled so much. I couldn’t handle being near my new, perfect baby. I didn’t want to hold her, touch her, or even look at her. I forced myself; after all, it wasn’t her fault her mother had mental issues. We were having a home built, everything was going so smoothly, finally.

My husband had to go on a business trip, and that’s when my world came crashing down. I was changing my daughter’s diaper and my son was crying and I broke down. My simple break down quickly turned into a devastating mental break. I text my husband and told him I no longer wanted to live. Everything had hit me at once. He couldn’t help me, he was out of state, and I was alone. He was terrified I was going to kill myself. I promised I wouldn’t, but can someone take that seriously in this situation ?

A few days later I wound up breaking down to my mom and grandma. From that point on I was no longer allowed to be alone. People kept asking why I was so depressed and what happened. There’s not always an answer to those questions, what am I supposed to say ? I already had depression and anxiety from PTSD, add the post-partum depression to that and I was a ticking time bomb.

Every day I would wake up, and I was glad for that. I was so sad on the inside, but so very glad I hadn’t succumbed to the demons trying to steal me away from this life, from my children, from my husband. Fast forward to now, nine days into January, and I find myself here again; struggling. I was put on medication and now they’ve changed my dosage because the previous dose wasn’t helping.

How do you tell the people around you, the ones that love you, that you aren’t happy ? How do you tell them about your struggle, when they are so happy with life ? They couldn’t possibly understand, could they ? The mind is a powerful thing, something that works against me every single day. Sometimes, my mind is kind to me, helping me to see myself in a different light. Other times, it’s like a lion stalking its prey and it waits until I’m exposed, too vulnerable, and then it attacks. I can’t run from my own mind, I can’t combat the things it tells me, or how I feel. I can only pray for salvation from God. He has brought me through so much, he has healed me many times over, yet I still find my mind acting as a powerful weapon against me.

I will continue to fight.

I refuse to let my life be taken from me.

❤ LAFMommy

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In need of a reprieve

I went to church last week for the first time in over a year. My husband and I went and we let our son go into the daycare area, while we attended the service. 

The church has set up home at a local middle school, so they hold service in the auditorium. I’ve noticed this has become something more churches are doing. So anywho, instead of pews, like I was used to growing up, they had folding chairs set up, and we sat in the back row. Now, when I say back row, I don’t mean against a wall. There was plenty of room for people to stand and walk behind us, of course, this leaves someone like me open to an anxiety attack. And have an anxiety attack I did. It wasn’t one that everyone could visibly see, I don’t well with keeping it harnessed within myself, but I struggled. Eventually, I was able to calm down, the service ended and we collected our son. 

Tomorrow is Sunday and I intended on going to the service. The problem is, my husband has to work so I’ll be going alone. It’s a quarter after one and I’m still laying here, awake, and working myself into a frenzy, because I’m so worried about going alone. I’m having an anxiety attack before I even step place into the school for the service.

A place that I should feel safe and comfortable, and I can’t even get a grasp long enough to sleep and then go. I’m questioning whether I’ll even be able to pull myself out of bed early enough tomorrow to go now, because not only will I be tired from lack of sleep, but anxiety attacks are exhausting. My son had so much fun last week though, and I know he was looking forward to going tomorrow too, so I feel bad for possibly canceling his fun time at church.

I struggle like this everyday, with self inhibiting anxiety and stress. Will there ever come an end to it ? It’s absolutely frustrating and beyond draining. 

What am I supposed to do ?

❤ LAFMommy

Struggles

I’m contemplating on a new tattoo, or a couple. I’m behind on getting the semicolon tattoo, although it is something I have been longing to get since the Semicolon Tattoo Project began. 

I haven’t been able to make up my mind on exact placement nor if I just want the semicolon itself or anything with it. 

Suffering from PTSD and depression doesn’t come without thoughts of suicide and no longer existing in a world that can be so cruel. It’s a hard pill to swallow, but the thoughts are much more frequent than I would like to admit. Sometimes, it just seems it would be easier, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I have too much to look forward to, to let suicide take over. It’s permanent. I plan to experience every bit of Tristan’s life, and if I’m not alive I can’t do that. I refuse to give up, no matter how hard I struggle. No matter how hard my mind or my illnesses fight against me. 

My last major depressive episode was from January to almost April, the winter months are always the hardest. Seasonal depression. I fought so hard, but for a majority of that time I didn’t think I would win. It’s impossible to come out unscathed; with worry of the next time already etched in ones brain. I’m determined to continue fighting, even though the next episode, I know, will creep up on me at some point. 

To those that read my blog, if you suffer, you aren’t alone. Some days are hard as hell and feel like there’s only one way out, but then there are the good days. Those days are what motivate me to keep pushing. Keep looking for that glimpse of hope; grasp even the smallest light in your life and hold on. The fear and the episodes; they won’t last forever. 

And I’ll be someone you can reach out to, even in my own struggle. 

❤ LAFMommy

Post Surgery Feels

So I had my surgery yesterday. I’m still fighting with the lightheadedness, but yesterday I couldn’t shake the nausea. I’m having some pain, but the painkillers are helping a lot. I was struggling to eat; my mom made me toast last night and it felt like a huge chunk of cotton. 

Anywho, I found out I do have endometriosis. The doctor said we’ve found it early enough that I have some good options, which include; medicinal or surgery. I don’t have my follow up appointment for 2 weeks and we’ll go over everything then, but I’m leaning toward the medicinal option, of course. I don’t particularly want to have another surgery so soon. 

As much as I hate knowing I have this.. condition, it makes me feel better to know that there’s actually something going on and it isn’t in my head. I have days where I’m curled up on the floor in so much pain, I can’t even voice words to explain what’s going on. I knew it was real, so now others do as well. I’m just hoping the treatments will help so that I won’t have issues getting pregnant in the future. 

I’m just thankful it isn’t any worse than it is, because I know it could have been so much more. Now, if only this lightheadedness would go away ! 

❤ LAFMommy

Escape

I started my blog in November of 2015. My initial intention was to post regular updates of my life with post traumatic stress disorder, however; I found this a rather tedious task. You see, it’s difficult to remain focused on something, no matter how important, when you suffer from something like this. Then there was the issue that I felt I was posting too much negativity and that I needed to post more “happiness.”

Nearly two years later and I find myself wondering why I don’t post more of the hindering, mentally crippling days that I have. What if someone is going through the exact same thing I am, but I failed to post it, so they think they’re alone ? I could post brighter days too, when I have them. I need to use my blog more, I should be using it to jot down my thoughts, feelings, and my every day surge of emotions that I typically struggle through. I suppose I find myself embarrassed by the sufferings I go through due to the PTSD.

So now I ask myself..

Why not use my outlet as an escape ? Why not let my mind be free for a few moments a day ? I need this. I deserve this.

❤ LAFMommy

Night

Lately I have been more anxiety ridden. There’s plenty going on in my life to bring upon these anxious moments, as there always is. However; lately, it’s been moreso.  

Along with the anxiety and the frequently appearing panic attacks, are nightmares. Not the normal nightmares that one can recover from quickly, but the ones that leave me fighting for air and covered in sweat, or tears; I haven’t deciphered which it is yet. Possibly both. The nightmares that leave me with internal screaming that is begging for release. The nightmares that keep my eyeballs from seeking refuge behind their lids, that has me staring into a dark abyss of black, feeling as if the walls are slowly closing in on me. I’m left to inhale my breaths as if they’ll be my last, as if I can’t get my chest to expand further to accommodate my need. I fight against my own body, or it fights against me, in whether to lay still out of fear, or to run because the anxiety makes my body ache for movement. Laying there, praying that I’ll forget the last nightmare or that maybe it’s the opposite and I’ll remember this one to know what caused the turmoil this time. I close my eyes, just for the terror to begin again and again and again, until eventually, the sun is coming up and I’m beyond exhausted. Or I close my eyes, and envision new nightmares, new anxieties, or the same ones with different scenes. Each time they grow darker, more frightening, more crippling. Nightmares so vivid I wake up still seeing them, as if they exist again or for the first time, right there in front of me, they’re happening. 

Fear is real for me. It is a never ending cycle, that grasps me like a predator searching out its prey. One day, I fear, it will grab hold and never let go. 

Is there truly an escape from these fears that become so real in the night ? 

❤ LAFMommy

Depression can suck it

The world is full of two kinds of people; people pleasers and those waiting to be pleased. 

I used to be the type of person that wanted to be pleased. Of course, I went into the military at 18 and had that knocked right out of me. In the past years, I’ve become the person that pleases everyone. Literally. Everyone. No matter who the person is, I feel like I have to make them smile, like when they leave from my presence or mine theirs, they should be happy. A person could be horrible to me, and I will still try to make them happy. I bite my tongue, I hold back my anger, and I no longer do anything for me.

Where does it stop ? I feel like my depression and anxiety have played a big part in this. I felt like I would be happy if everyone around me was. I felt like it would help the depression melt away. I found this to have the opposite effect and it doesn’t help me at all. 

The last few days I have been reflecting on my life and trying to decide what I want to change. 

After I had my son I fought with PPD. I loved my baby, and I hated everyone else. I cried over anything, I was like a jack in the box; my handle was turning and turning until I finally popped with emotion. I would look in the mirror and hate who was looking back at me. I always found something to be disgusted at: my hair, my skin, stretch marks, being out of shape because I just had a baby; anything. 

So today, I made the decision to start working out. Now, I don’t particularly like going to the gym, it’s too busy, and it sends my anxiety on a wild roller coaster, so going alone was definitely not an option. I decided to grab my weights and hit the living room. I’m out of shape, so it hit me quickly, but just that 30 minutes helped me feel better. My son even joined in, and let me tell you, his squats are the cutest I have ever watched. I’m sore, but it will help in the long run. 

Part of my decision was made because I’m in physical therapy. My trauma and having a baby caused some muscular issues so I’m doing pelvic floor PT. I won’t go into detail, but it’s like having a masseuse and chiropractor in one. I need to strengthen my core and start feeling better about myself in order to help my PF so I made up my mind today. Everyone has to start somewhere, right ?

Anywho, everyone around me seems to be working out and on “health trends,” but I didn’t want to do it because of everyone else. I needed to do this for me. So I am. It took time for me to finally make the decision to work out, but I already feel great about it. 

I’m trying to be someone that is not a complete people pleaser anymore but also not a person that is sitting and waiting for people to please me. I just want to be someone in the middle. 

I want to be happy. 

❤️ LAFMommy