Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Lean on Me... Except when I'm struggling to stand

I feel like the worst hypocrite ever.

I lean on my friends all the time for support and I am always there for them. I strongly value dependability in my friendships. One friend of mine in particular, B, has been with me since DAY 1 of my dark times (that catch phrase has a nice ring to it, no?). He lives in a different province and we met when I was living abroad in England. We communicate via fb and phone but haven't seen each other in person in a year and a bit. Anyways, he is/was also going through a tough time in his life. He got out of a messed up relationship and had work troubles. I have always been fine with counseling him when he counsels me. But the past few times? I really don't want to.

I want to be selfish. It's horrible. I don't want to talk him up and cheer him up about how great he is. Its so hypocritical because *I* want people to do that to me!!!! In the end, I do cheer him up and talk to him when he needs me but I just feel so lousy after it. Like it brings up all my insecurities and depression issues whenever we talk. I find him helpful when I'm upset, but yet when he tells me the same things I tell him, I get fed up. And to top it off, he always says he feels bad for "dumping" it all on me. :(

Now I'm stuck. I do want to help him and be there for him, but I don't want to get annoyed. How do I do that? How am I there for someone when I can barely be there for myself?

Monday, February 27, 2012

A Spoon Full of Sugar...

After two months of realizing that I wasn't feeling any better and after going back to therapy, I decided to go on medication. The big scary world of anti-depressants.

The medicines:
- Cipralex, daily, 10mg (daily) - anti-depressants
- Vitamin D & a multi-vitamin (daily) - for general health
- Xanax, .25 mg (as needed) - for anxiety
- Lorazepam, 5 mg (as needed) - for anxiety
- Ziploclone, 7.5 mg (as needed) - for insomnia

In addition to medication, i am doing talk therapy. When I went to therapy last year to deal with the Dr. X stuff, I worked a lot on CBT and with the book Mind over Mood (VERY recommended for those with anxiety related issues). This time around, it is more "talk" wise... getting everything off my chest, crying a bit, generally just telling somoene how I'm doing. I don't know if its as helpful as it was last year... but its better than nothing.

The results (so far):

I have taken Xanax for about 2 years and Lorazepam for 10 for my anxiety. I take them on a as-needs basis... which has obviously risen in the past three months than when I am normally experiencing episodes of anxiety. I started on Lorazapam because i used to just have trouble with sleeping in unfamiliar places. I don't use it that much anymore. Xanax is for when I have panic attacks and they help me calm down and (if I am focused and remember to: work on a CBT sheet).

I have been on Cipralex for about a month and I don't know if they are working or not. They say it takes 4 -6 weeks before feeling the full effect. I am becoming a bit more motivated (I swam laps last Wednesday for the first time in three months) but I'm still not "better". I have been told that they are like a brace or cast... they don't MAKE you better, but they allow the healing to begin. I hope my healing is beginning. I don't cry as much at least. My doctor when I went back after two weeks said that I was a lot less "weepy".

So that's where I am medically wise... Hopefully through the medicines, therapy, and venting on this blog, I'll eventually get back to who I was before I fell apart at the seams.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Hits you like a bag of bricks sometimes...

I am having a massive panic attack at work. Face flushed, heart rate pumping, scrambling around for my Xanax and then realizing I left it at home. Time to write this out, take a walk around the office, and try to calm down. Fuck, its so much harder to do this on my own without the aid of anti-anxiety meds. And what brought this on? ....My own stupidity.

I was killing time, deleting old emails until I came to one from my birthday.... Written a month before Dr X broke up with me. I shouldn't have clicked on it. I should have moved on, or deleted it. But...

A birthday poem to the women I love on her special day. I hope you like it and i hope you know i love you and will always love you because you are Susan and there is only one like you out there. Happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!! xoxoxox

Sonnet 17
by Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way
because I don't know any other way of loving
but this, in which there is no I nor you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep
it is your eyes that close




Wednesday, February 22, 2012


"yet" is the word i have to start saying more. I am not happy...yet. I have no motivation... Yet. I am defnity not over him, yet.

It's hard to let him go. I write here because I am afraid my friends will get sick of me missing him or being upset.

That's what everyone says I need to do. He broke up with me. He didnt want to try. I have no say. I know I can't make him love me or make him see what I saw in us.

I saw a future. I saw kids and marriage and relaxing on a porch. I saw family vacations and growing old together. I saw fantastic sex, passion and love.

How do I stop feeling like this? God, if I could just find other men attractive. If I could go on dates or flirt or just... Give up. I am a fighter, it's so hard for me to just lay down and accept defeat.... Even though I know I need to.

I know everyone says it will just take time. How much time! It's been three months and he hasn't tried to contact me. That should give me a kick in the pants! I am that easily pushed out of his mind. I am not important to someone who I love so strongly despite all the pain and bullshit he put(s) me through.

I am not over him....


Thursday, February 16, 2012

Sometimes, we are the lucky ones.

My good friend K's mom just passed away. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. She was in her mid 50s and K's little sister found her in the bathroom unconscious. They still haven't determined the cause of death. She sent a facebook message to us this morning.

It has really shaken me.

I keep thinking, how would I be feeling if that was me. I don't think I could handle it. I really think it would blow me apart. I love my parents so much. Yes, we fight. Yes, I'd much rather be living away from home at this point in my life. But I still care so deeply for them. I know that no matter how far away I travel, I will always want to have roots in my city because I want to raise my future family surrounded by mine. What would I do if they were gone? I really hope I don't have to go through what my friend is going through anytime soon, but we never know do we?

This is kind of a wake up call. I need to appreciate them more. I need to tell them that I love them. I need to skype my sister in Korea and tell her I miss her. Even if they know these things, I just want to tell them again.

God, I hope K gets through this. I hope I am a good friend and am there for her when she needs me. Sometimes, even if we don't feel it a lot of the time, sometimes we really are the lucky ones. I wish her nothing but strength and love.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Thank God February 14th is Over...

Valentine's Day is for those in love. I know people bitch about the commercialism of it all, but the romantic in me had always loved it, when I was coupled AND when single. But this year? I am jaded and bitter and want to throw punches at every couple I saw. No The Vow for me, I'd rather curl up to a Scream marathon. I hate how bitter he has made me.

This Valentines Day was the worst. That's right. You are now going to hear ME bitch about this Halmark Holiday. It wasn't just missing Dr X or wanting to brawl with those lucky ones in love, it was like I couldn't stand anything. I moped around the office ("You seem to be in a bit of a mood"). I was really excited to go hang out with my friend whose husband had to work so she was home alone for Valentine's Day. We were going to order Indian and watch non-romantic movies. Until she called and cancelled. Stomach flu. Can't fault her for that.

After struggling through the day, my mom picked me up on the way home from work. No good news when I got in the car. She had a fender bender and was really frazzled / upset. She told me that when she called my dad, he got mad at her and yelled at her and that upset her even more. We got home and my parents got in a HUGE fight. She said he yelled, he said she was lying. My dad stormed out mid cooking us a Valentine's dinner and they didn't talk the rest of the night. My mom was crying, my dad was pissed, it was just awful.

I kept feeling like it was my fault. I think that my Dad was still a little upset about the therapist calling him out on how he yells at us a lot so he was very sensistive to that fact. If I hadn't taken them to therapy, maybe they wouldn't have spent Valentines Day miserable. I'm dragging them down with me.

So while they were in separate rooms, I was downstairs eating my magnificent Valentine's dinner of left-over mashed potatoes and apple crisp while watching three plus hours of The Voice... It's actually kind of comical how ridiculously cliched and pathetic my day was.

That the freakin lord this holiday comes once a year. Maybe next year, I'll be back to my regular When Harry Met Sally loving self.

Monday, February 13, 2012

Mom, Dad. Meet my therapist...

The first time you bring your parents to meet your therapist is much akin to the first time you bring a new boyfriend 'round the house. You are nervous that they won't get along, or that one or the other will say something that the other doesn't agree with.... You're nervous about sharing a personal relationship - that of both your parents and of your therapist.

But tonight, I did just that.

My dad has been having a hard time dealing with my depression. He doesn't do well with me crying. IN fact, he says it makes him frustrated and angry at me for not being able to restrain my emotions. Both him and my mom have a hard time understanding why I don't just GET OVER IT ALREADY. So, my therapist suggested that I bring them to a session.

I was very anxious before hand and a little uncomfortable during. It was bad timing as it was just after one of my dad's work shifts (he's a firefighter) so he was super cranky (he's always kind of an asshole when he's tired/stressed)... so he wasn't in the most responsive of moods. BUT he DID come and I really do appreciate and know that he cares about me, he just doesn't deal with me in the most productive way sometimes.

One thing that was interesting that came up was that my therapist pointed out how similar myself and my father are. We are both emotional, logical people. We sometimes are stubborn in our beliefs and we both have emotional outbursts. Its HOW we outburst that is different and causes so much tension. He yells and I cry and we can't understand each others reactions. This apparently "wasn't news" to my dad, but I think he may have been a bit defensive. My therapist also said that he'd benefit from some sessions and that definitely ruffled my dad's feathers. My mom said she liked the session but it was mostly focused on him and me. Maybe I should take them back a second time later on.

The car ride home was a lot of me trying to expand on my therapists points, but my dad not understanding / agreeing with it. I'm not sad or upset by the whole experience, i just felt that we didn't reach any sort of huge father/daughter hugging breakthrough.

But I guess some progress is any progress right? Maybe my dad has a little bit of a better insight into what's going on, even if he doesn't respect / understand my anxiety or ways of coping.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Glimpses of clarity

This weekend wasn't as bad as I had feared. Clearly it was a lot of my anxiety more than anything. I was so worried that I would be down and depressed all weekend and take away from the excitement of winning a prize and having a weekend away where I could learn a new skill.

My friend who I went with was great. Cheerful but not too wild. She has been with me the whole time I have been struggling through this and it was nice to sometimes just be silent or say "I'm a little sad" right now and she would understand. Reading the two comments on my blog the first night I was up there was really helpful too. Thank you to Santana & Sir_Prizes, your comments made me feel connected and that there really is something useful to be gained about sharing my struggles with others.

As fearful as I was about going skiing and having everything there remind me of him, there were a few times where he didn't cross my mind at all.Or at least, I was distracted enough to not let him in there. I had glimpses of what my old life used to be like, when I wasn't going through depression. When I was actually learning skiing: how to turn, slow down, walk sideways up a hill... I didn't think of him once. I focused my energy on run after run of the bunny hill. It was tiring and motivating. We even tried the "easy" hill (not so easy!). Surprisingly, I didn't think of him once.

But then...I'd see a ski ranger (he used to be one out West) or a ski competition (he used to compete in them), or a couple holding hands (we used to be that)... and my inner resolve dissolved in a poof! I didn't outwardly cry but a glumness seemed to descend on me.

But... for those moments where I didn't think of him or of how miserable I feel a lot of the time, it was actually pretty nice.

Friday, February 3, 2012

To ski or not to ski....

I won a contest in December for a weekend away at a ski resort, new skis and tons of ski swag. You think I would be excited about this wouldn't you? Instead, when I heard I won, I was hysterically sad. I had initially entered this contest so Dr. X and I could have a weekend away. He is an avid skier and even competed provincially in high school. I won all these Ski DVDs and he was the only person I knew who would get excited to watch those. So to hear that I had won a ski contest a mere week or so after Dr. X had broken up with me... devastating.

However, after many people pointed out that it was a good thing to win this contest and that I shouldn't let him have so much control over my happiness: I gave the ski dvds and swag to a cousin of mine and booked a weekend at the ski resort there with one of my girlfriends.

That weekend starts in three hours.

And all I can think of is how I wanted him to teach me how to ski. How it would have been so romantic to go skiing all day and cuddle by a fire at night. How I miss him and the idea of us, together. It would have been perfect. I am trying to get my excitement level up but I don't know how. I have been pretty good at keeping him out of my head, but how will I do that all weekend?

Well, I guess it can't be too horrible to go. I can't get too down until I'm there experiencing it. That's my anxiety talking. It's my anxiety and depression that are making me nervous about this trip. I just have to try and fake a smile when everything around me screams "hide in your bed til the spring".

The breakup.

I feel it only right to give you a solid background as to why I am feeling so miserable as of late. It all kick started with a break up that left me confused, hurt, and in all essence broken.

I am a hopeless romantic and still was when I met Dr X in August 2010. For anonymity sake, lets call him that as he is a chiropractor and telling you his real name makes me feel uncomfortable. I believed in love at first sight, happy endings and that love can fix everything. This mentality was my downfall, for I met him at a most inopportune time, a time when he was already in a relationship with someone else. Most happy, healthy people would have gone running in the opposite direction, but I seem to lack that common sense. He made me feel desired, special and had a knack for making me melt into a pile of giggling goo. I knew what I was doing was wrong but I got so high from aromas of love that I refused to listen to my friends and family’s disapproval.

We continued this for a few months until it got to the point where I couldn’t handle it anymore. My self-esteem was taking a hit and reality began to take over. Why didn’t he want me and only me? We went on a romantic weekend away to Niagara Falls! All his excuses of how he didn’t know how to tell her or how he could hurt her fell flat on the floor. He was already hurting her by being with me. He told me he loved me! What was so hard? True love is supposed to be true. None of this sneaking around bullshit! So I made him choose and surprise, surprise, the “he’s going to break your heart” dogmas that my friends had been sprouting since the summer, came true. It broke my heart.

I won’t get into the mental hell that heartbreak entails. The questions of why you weren’t good enough, what you could have done differently and the pure shock of it all is enough to rock even the strongest wills. I thought he was going to leave her for me. I didn’t understand why he didn’t fight for us. How he couldn’t feel as strongly as I did. Did he not fall in love at first sight too?

I wish I could say that I became a stronger person because of that experience. He ruined my Christmas and turned me into a skinny, unsure, blubbering shell of my former self. But two months later, he came back. He came back with answers to the questions I had been pondering the past few months and I decided to give him a second chance. After all, with true love, you have to be conciliatory right?

We went through our ups and downs the next six months. I left to go to England for some head space and employment, he stayed behind in Canada to finish his schooling. He even came to visit me in London and when I returned to my homeland, I went out east to meet his parents. I was able to look past all the heartache, mistrust and tears because all I could see was so much potential. He would be a great father one day; he wanted to marry me; he was going to be a successful doctor; he had times where he made me feel so special and loved.

But, the fights ended up being too much for him. I am someone who speaks her mind when she is upset and I was upset a lot. I became too demanding and he became too inattentive. The long distance tore him apart. He said that our relationship was based too much on trying to do things. Him trying to win me over, me trying to win him over. We were never just “being”. But I didn’t understand how we could just “be” if we were living in different places? We got away from the trying to make each other smile and laugh to the constant serious talks and it was too hard for him. I heard these things and agreed, I was willing to work on my faults to make us stronger and better. He is someone who doesn't like confrontation so he never made me think that he was serious about ending things if we didn't "change" things. So I argued for change. I wanted to try. He didn't. He gave up. All those promises of him changing, of how he was a better person now and loved me so much fell out of the window. He was so calm and sure of himself. Meanwhile, I couldn’t breathe. The love of my life no longer loved me. One night, almost a year since the last time he broke my heart, he did it again.

26 and Lost.

I am not a special girl. There are no distinguishing features that make me stand apart from most others my age. I am neither wealthy nor poor. I have led a comfortable life with a family full of love and friends across the globe. I went to university, got a degree, and lived abroad. Why then, could such an average middle class girl, feel so hopelessly lost and alone.

I find it kind of selfish, to think that the problems and heartache I feel in my life are so significant that it is worth writing about or even yet, worth reading about. But I have always been one to analyze and explain my feelings. Perhaps by writing this down, it can help me get through things and return to that enduring cliché of “my old self”. It may be the catharsis I need. Perhaps by sharing it with others, it will help them feel connected to me, to understand that they are not alone, or to hell, even be entertained. Grief works wonders in creating masterpieces, maybe my story will be mine.

So please bear with me and know that I do realize I have been dealt some good cards in life and that I am not in the worst possible situation ever. But at this moment in time, my future is a haze of uncertainty and negative thoughts. I am 26 years old and lost.
Hyper Smash