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

Advertisements

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

Accomplishment

I got out of bed today.

In the first blog, “The Start of Something Beautiful,” I wrote about how, of all my experiences, being a mommy was my greatest accomplishment. When I say greatest I mean, the thing in life I am best at doing. I have accomplished many things, but this is, and always will be, my greatest.

Then, there is my hardest accomplishment. Getting out of bed every day. When I wake up, I do not get out of bed for myself, because believe me, I could find it easier to stay there. I get up, simply, for my husband and my son. Tristan cannot take care of himself. He needs me. Marco needs me, even if he is a grown man.

I open my eyes, I see the sun has risen, but I close my eyes again and pretend it is not a new day. I escape into the back of my eyelids, for just a little longer. I wait. I wait for Marco to roll over and say good morning, I wait for Tristan to wiggle around and announce his presence. I lay there and I wait to be told that I need to get up, because others need me.

As easy as it could be to stay in bed all day, every day, I get up. I could give up and give in to my mental diseases, I could let them consume me. They already almost have, so why not give in completely ? The truth is, that I do not want to disappoint my family. The two people in this house that would do anything for me. And if they would do anything for me, then I cannot lay in the bed, wasting away, and do nothing for them. Every day though, I feel myself giving in to the desire of staying there.

It is always an uphill battle. I refuse to let my battle win.

❤ LAFMommy