When all this shit happened, I thought it would be a good thing to have a plan for my kids. What to do if I get hit by a bus, who to call, all that jazz.
I managed to get them set up with cell phones, and I set myself up too. We programmed in emergency numbers.
I don't know, is that the modern equivalent of an emergency plan?
I wanted to write it down for them. Maybe it's because I've worked as a paramedic before and I've seen the horrible things that take people by surprise but I wanted the piece of mind that comes with the knowledge that my kids would know what to do in an emergency. Call this person, call that person. This is where this piece of paper is, this is where that piece of paper is.
I'm glad I don't have a plan right now.
A plan gives a person piece of mind, but right now it also gives permission.
To have your stbx cheat on you and molest your child and demand money from you when you are holding yourself together with bubblegum, your family together with silly putty, and your life together with those little tiny bandaids that always come off and are absolutely ridiculous, is a little too much to take. When you used all your money to pay off bills and fix the house and you're being treated like you took a Carribean vacation is maddening.
Going into the bathroom at work once to fall apart and curl into a ball and completly lose your shit may be understandable. Doing it three times is a little frightening. Heading home and being forced to pull off the road because you couldn't see any longer due to crying and coming to the realization that all you want to do is disappear and too bad you didn't have that plan in writing and...and...and...
Up to now, I've been able to latch onto things that I know will keep me going. The very basics. My kids. My pets. My friends.
Dear God, all I want to do is disappear.
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5 comments:
First, I want you to believe me when I tell you I'm only coming from a place of caring. Okay?
You need to get immediate psychiatric care. This is becoming serious. Really serious. Group therapy is insufficient for what you're describing. Counseling is insufficient. You need some antidepressants, maybe some anti-anxiety meds, and a consultation with a real brain-chemistry professional. And you need it RIGHT AWAY. Don't wait to make an appointment. Go to the emergency room at St. Lukes. They've got psychiatrists on staff.
I know you're worried about the cost, but do it anyway.
I know exactly what you mean! Not having a plan gives you a reason to stay standing.
I agree that an emergency plan in your situation includes giving the kids a safe alternative to call.
I think you are more sane and emotionally healthy than people who stuff their emotions deep inside and damper the expression with a variety of medication.
You are already in therapy/counseling and have a solid group of supportive friends and neighbors. You are strong enough to know you need to pull to the side of the road when you can't see through your tears. You are grieving through years and memories. You are not numbing yourself out anymore. And much like Michelle Obama's biceps, a strong, positive, and healthy asset for ANY person, the public opinion bears enough weight to make her cover her upper arms when in public view. And so it is with your raw pain and anger and emotions. Surely you must need to spend time in lock up while your kids are free to ...? What? It is just not an option, is it?
So unless you are really ready to flop and your friends aren't answering their phones anymore and the Corgi's are hiding under the bed and you are eying up the razor blades with less than creative visions, then you have to make like brick and endure. Another day. Another sunrise. Another commute. And so on.
You are on one of those funny little pathways with tall grass, lots of cliffs and few road signs. You get to make your own map. Lucky you, right? But that's the way it is and you deal until one day you wake up and the birds will be singing and the bees have returned and the sky is so blue... and your kids that you worked so hard to raise well and happy and healthy are all growed up and living well. And then maybe there will be art shows and grandbabies...
It's also called living a full life.
The ER is a last resort when you just can't twist that knife out of your back by yourself and you really want your kids to get their sleep for school the next day. Yes, use it if you really need to (peace of mind? to know it exists) but you are still pulling strong and clear.
Go Tina!
You do not know me; however, I am a fellow Duluthian, if that matters for anything. I know for a fact that if you are not on anti-depressants, if you begin taking them (at least during this difficult period in your life), it will make life seem much more tolerable. Consider asking for them for your and your children's sake. You all desire some peace.
Yes, go for the chemical restraint. Sedate yourself with some calming Prozac or Celexa. Better yet, for those unmanageable moments when you are ready to climb through walls, try a little Ativan or Valium.
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