Missing Myself
Yes, I'm well aware that it has been a long time since I typed an entry, but I seem to have an issue, from time to time, of starting something and not sticking to it. Sort of like the diet and exercise routine I was going to start in my previous post. Over a year later and that has yet to happen.
Anywho, I chose to start back up with my blog because although I'm currently seeing a Therapist (yes, I will get into that.), I feel like I need a place to divulge my thoughts outside of a small room with 1 other person that my insurance co-pay allows me to talk to. Therapists are great, don't get me wrong, but being limited to an hour every 2 weeks to share my thoughts and concerns isn't helping me get all the madness running around in my brain out enough to keep me a notch below insanity. See, I'm currently seeing a Therapist for Postpartum Depression & Anxiety. I had my son 13 months ago, but even with the cocktail of medications I'm on, it's only helping a bit. I'm still fucked up more than I want to be...more than my usual self. Straight up shit-flipping, dragon lady, get out of my way type of fucked up. So, I was recommended to see a Therapist to hopefully get me closer to my norm. Granted I'm still crazy at my "norm", but it's what I would consider fun crazy vs. crazy crazy. Anyways, back to my train of thought (you'll notice that derailment is usual for me), I have dealt with PPD (PostPartum Depression) after having my daughter almost 4 years ago. I saw a Therapist at that time and got started on a antidepressant. After tweaking that dose, I finally felt "normal". I still had my up and down emotions, but it was my human emotions, not the drastic emotions that depression can bring on. I was happy again.
Now fast-forward to me having my son. I was still on those antidepressants from years prior. The dose was just decreased to accommodate my pregnancy. After having my son, they kept me at that lower dose in hopes to ween me off of them. I agreed because I hate being on a daily medication, let alone one that is supposed to make a change to my brain. This time around though, it wasn't the saddness & worthlessness as much as the first time around. This time it was a lot if anxiety and anger, with some of the sadness and worthlessness sprinkled on top. I was literally getting so stressed from my anxiety that I would flip my shit on the smallest stuff. Like scream at the top of my lungs at anyone who even asked me something while in the middle of doing something else. It's like I wasn't capable of doing the dishes and answering a question at the same time without my anxiety going into overload. Then being so anxious got me upset, so my anger peeked its ugly head out. I know I'm feisty as my normal personality, but it's more of a hard truth feisty than a raging bitch feisty. So, that being the case, I scheduled an appointment with my Psychiatrist again and had a medication added for anxiety to my daily dose of fun and the antidepressant that I was still on got upped back to the dose I was previously on before my pregnancy. It was a slow increase, but still I got back to 200mg of goodbye sadness. Fast forward to present day, I'm now on multiple meds for anxiety and depression, some that are meant to help those awful zero to ten mood swings. My doc has been teetering me off of some meds while he adds others to get me to my "normal". So far I've had improvement, but not quite back to myself. That's where my Therapist comes into play. My Psychiatrist felt that in addition to this medication roulette that we've been playing, it was suggested that I talk to someone. So, I have been doing just that. Talking my little head off every couple of weeks with my Therapist. She's a great listener and she makes helpful suggestions that I wouldn't have thought of, but twice a month just doesn't feel like quite enough and my wallet can't afford me going more than that right now. So, here I am, back in the blogging world to give myself a place to spew out my thoughts. I'm hoping to stick with it better this time around because I sure need it. I need that extra place to divulge my thoughts, concerns, etc. So blog, it looks like you'll be taking on the roll as my bestie for awhile...or maybe not since I suck at keeping my besties around. That's a whole other story for another post.
With that said, let me bring this to a close and plan to hear from my again soon... seriously.
I have the answers to the questions you have bedeviling your mind & soul. You may not think I do or assume to know what I have to say, but I assure you that you don't. Visit after visit we never talk. That is because I've been conditioned that no one gives a damn about what I have to say because it is too profound, too heavy, too spiritual. In other words, it's not fun nor brings laughter (so it is assumed). This is especially & most notably true within our family structure. Scripture states that a prophet is always rejected by his own. (Not saying I'm a prophet, but there is an element of truth to it that extends to what I'm here saying. As an aside to that, I'll bet most people reading this don't truly know what a prophet is.)
ReplyDeleteMuch of what you struggle with is the basis upon which I set out to seek the answers to life's questions when I was a mere 20 yrs. of age and that have since become what is the essence of our being. Not mine alone, rather all mankind.
As anyone familiar enough with us, the answers were long in coming. I had many demons to conquer along the way. So, getting answers alone is never enough. It is a journey; a process that melds knowledge, life experiences and our heart (emotions) into what quintessentially is, or becomes, our representative soul. The person we mold ourselves to being by the decisions we make & the roads that we take & the goodness or garbage we allow into our minds—especially if they end up dwelling there, which of course can be anything from ameliorating & epiphanic and mystifying & vexing. All, and more, at the same time.
I lost my father in 1978. He was a mere 47. We had a tumultuous relationship, mostly because he, as well as my mother, had their own demons that infected their lives which in turn affected (even infected) us, their children, as well. This is even more true if God provided one with a particularly sensitive child, which my sister & I were. Despite how I felt about my father, I still to this day pine to have known him better, especially as an adult. To see the essence of his soul & the demons that were stalking him. I know some of them, yet surely not all of them. To know that which made up his psyche was to know the man; the person; the human being that he was. To know the things of his heart. I never got to know that man. Being so, I have never had a mentor nor a person in my life that I can look up to (besides those from (non-music) radio, books & the Book) and from whom to learn the ways & means of life. That said, I’m not bemoaning it, for such by all means is a very common occurrence. It’s simply to make a greater point.
Left to my own devices, I made it my life to know the things of life. Not by happenstance, rather as scripture paints it, to seek it out as if it were the most precious pearl one could possess, surely worth one’s time & effort to attain regardless of how much of that it takes. I'm not bragging. I don't even take credit for what I know. Because accumulation of knowledge is the easier part. Assimilating it all to make sense of it all; to get it to a place of cohesiveness & coherence is another matter. To raise one’s senses above the furtive phantasmagorical ideologies of most (or simply, their farcical ideas of proper living & virtues), which mostly go unnoticed because of their dull sense of true realities, priorities and who-the-heck they really are in this magnanimous universe of existence. Without this cohesion & coherence, confusion governs our life & existence regardless of how much our ego & pride hide and suppress this reality & truth from ourselves. One could even say demonically guard us from it.
(Cont.)
Is this too confounding in itself? It ought not to be. These are things that should ache in the soul of all. These are the things that if not answered to the best of our knowledge & ability will always leave a vacancy in one’s essence of being. Many never feel it because the noise in their life (their lifestyle of willful ignorance + a pathetic disposition of priorities) deafens their senses to its stalwart stillness. To me it is bewildering that so many are content to be the ancestors of apes, be it willingly so or not. Yet for those with the eyes to see, it is clearly depicted in their way of life…which of course, is unperceived by them. And they all seem so ordinary and are indeed so. Leaving virtually everyone thinking that there is nothing to see therein beyond the ordinary. It is said that the devil’s greatest ploy was in convincing people that he does not exist. Nothing to see here…there…elsewhere…anywhere.
ReplyDeleteThere are teachings and “facts” taught by humankind that we cannot fully understand and yet we have as a people come to accept them simply because they come from perceived “professionals”. Most notable of these deals is in the area of the mind. These higher-educated human mindbots follow a formula as was classroom prescribed to them, whereas unfortunately, such cookie cutter measures cannot ever resolve the conflict that goes on in the soul of a human being. It is WAY TOO INTRICATE & COMPLEX for these mere programmed bots to resolve. (I want to note that my intent is not to dehumanize such people, they are merely victims of a system. It is their programmed perceptions & the dispositions thereof to which I am referring; to their mechanized minds. Nonetheless & for whatever reason, they don’t have the drive nor inclination to, ironically, see beyond the surface of things. Thereby they are culpable for their own ignorance. Also to be noted (only for those too ignorant to come to their own conclusion of this), relatively speaking, few things are 100% true. There will always be exceptions. How much so? Who can say?!)
I don’t challenge the existence of PPD anymore than I would PTSD (albeit it seems a far more prevalent issue these days because, among other noteworthy things, we have psychologically accepted it as defined by the “professionals”). Those psychoses exist. The problem is in the prescribed methods of resolution. I will not get into the whole of it here (it’d be impossible anyway), but as just mentioned, since there is a lack of true & profound knowledge about such things, the remedies for these psychological conditions is no less the equivalent of the ancient tactic of barbaric barbershop bloodletting. Have no doubt. The barbers sincerely believed in what they were doing…as do today’s psychotic professionals who can likewise be compared to witches & warlocks who hex, vex and offer you their magical potions to mask the profoundly deeper issues in play.
And now here you are, struggling in the manner to which you are and financially enriching some people for their feeble humanistic placebos that may work on our physical aspect of existence to mere & varying degrees, but do nothing to heal & cure one's psyche; one's spirit; one's soul. One could say they cover up the badly baked cupcake with charming icing to make it look good; to provide a temporary attractive cover of it. That is, until one bites into it getting past it’s alluring sweet shroud to get to the truth of the dry, crumbling & burnt bottom matter at hand. That their cupcakes suck.