My Yard is Me

Since moving into my house in 2013, I learned how much I love plants and working in the yard.

Something is off this year. I walk outside and my yard says "death".  It feels like this death is just making its rounds everywhere.  It began with my daisies. They died before they bloomed. Then the grass started drying up. Then my irises started dying. My strawberries are dying, my lilies are dying. It literally is a cloak of death blanketing my yard. You might think we aren't watering enough.  Actually I started watering more when death started knocking. That extra water brought death to my maple tree. 

I've now come to terms that walking outside these days feels like I've stepped into hell. The blazing heat and the look of death brings an overwhelming sadness. 

This morning I drove up to my house and I thought maybe my yard is an outward symbol of an internal problem.  Maybe my yard tells my story. It tells the story behind the closed door. If you asked me what being me feels like, I could say "I feel like my daisy, a bright, happy flower that is dying before I bloom".  My outside feel like my maple tree, my leaves are browning, curling up and falling off.  My yard is my life. 

Yesterday I was at a subway when I noticed the girl making my sandwich had cutting scars all over her arms. I immediately viewed this girl in a different way and simultaneously felt terrible I was doing so. How could I possibly start judging a person that deals with similar stuff that I deal with. How sick and wrong is that? 

Life is weird

Isn't life weird? Sometimes I look at the people around me and I think "what's going on in your life?"  

We walk around day to day and interact with people and we never really knows what's going on in their lives. We scan our Facebook feeds and listen to everyone's shallow status updates. Do any of us really truly care about these "friends". If one of these so called friends talks about something uncomfortable on Facebook than we become weirded out and may talk about them behind their back. If we said to a strange "how are ya?" And they responded truthfully we would get all uncomfortable. 

I work every day with people, we talk and everyone seems happy. But what is their life really like? 

Why are we so shallow? Why do people's problems make us uncomfortable? 

Dear sis

I feel angry towards you today. Not because you've done anything, but my thoughts are reflective towards the 3 years I've lived close to you. 

You were 13 years old when I was born. You were my closest sister in age and by the time I was 8 years old I already had a niece.  I see how you don't feel close to me. You were pretty much checked out of family life by the time I arrived. 

That didn't mean anything for me though. You were still my big sister and someone I looked up to and have wanted a relationship with my whole life.  You moved an hour and a half away from us as soon as you had your first baby.  Your girls, my nieces, were the best. I have such good memories of you and me with your three little girls. 

Unfortunately, I began to age and My teenage years robbed the relationship I did have with my nieces. 

You were still there for me though when I went through hard times. I spent lots of time at your house and with your family. 

I remember after I got married and the hours we would chat on the phone. I even called you on my honeymoon to let you know I got my first varicose vein. I feel like we grew closer after I had kids and I matured. 

Then, it happened. My husband and I had the opportunity to live close to you. I couldn't have been more excited! Excited to own a house for the first time or excited to be out of southern utahs heat? Was I excited to live in a higher crime and small town? Of course not, none of those were the smallest of motivation.  My excitement came because it meant living close to you. So close In fact, we would only be 3 miles and 5 minutes from each other. 

About this same time, my depression and mental illness attacked me full throttle. Unfortunately, you also were attacked with physical ailments. We don't even see each other. I see you as often as my brothers that live over an hour away.  Because I only see you if there is a family gathering. Maybe you are hurt by me, maybe I didn't serve you in your time of need. The same way I feel about you not being there for me. 

Today after a situation, I am reminded of the hurt I feel. I feel hurt and because I don't want to feel hurt, I feel angry. 

I want a sister. I want a friend. For once in 23 years I live close to a sister. Nothing hurts worse than her not calling or caring about you. I feel uncared about. I feel lonely. I want to blame you. It's not all your fault, but it's easier to put the blame on you. It hurts sis, it really really hurts. 

Probably the most painful part is the possibility that maybe you don't call me because you don't like me. You shouldn't have to.  If we weren't sisters I am probably not a person you would associate with. Then, more pain settles in. How can I blame you for not enjoying me. I'm coming to the acceptance that I'm not an enjoyable person.  I actually thought recently that I don't think any of my siblings like me. I don't think people enjoy being around me.  

It's a lonely life. 

Depression is sick. It's a sick sick mind game.

Dark Abyss

I wake up

I'm stuck

I'm trapped in a prison

My personal hell

Those around me need me

But I am not here

I've been taken captive

My mind is a daze

My fists gripping onto life

My children acting out

They are lonely

I am lonely

My husband is lonely

Everyone needs me

I need me

I am gone

My eyes are blurred

I am spinning 

I am still

I reach out

"Help me", I scream

No one hears 

I am alone

I try to speak, there is no sound

Selfishness consumes me

Failure 

I am hurting 

I'm hurting those I love

What is love 

Where am I

Im in a hole

It is dark

I try to escape

My body is paralyzed

No one understands

It looks easy

There's a ladder beside me

I know where to go

But I am stuck

My voice is taken

I will die

This hole consumes me

No one sees me 

I am lost

It is dark

I will die here

All alone

I wake up

I try

I seriously try so hard. I wake up always with the best intentions. 

Today I went to a work meeting, it's a new class I'm involved in to teach us about leadership and development. My general manager is one of those successful people. He has read all the great books that inspire and he is just one of those people that has a real grip on life and self control. 

The class was inspiring. I felt like maybe I can be successful. Maybe I have the power to change and get what I want out of life. 

But then I got home. My daughter asked me to put her hair in a pony tail. I tried real hard to get it smooth, she freaked out about some bumps. So I tried again, extra hard. I failed again. At this point I say I'm done trying. She is hysterically crying at this point that I can't do her hair and how all the girls at school ask her why I don't do her hair. She goes on about how she felt excited that I've been able to at least put her hair in cute ponies and how this mornings fail has completely ruined everything. The thoughts that are running through my head while all this is happening is that I'm a terrible mom that can't even do her daughters hair. I then jump on the downward spiral of negativity and suddenly I realize how much of a failure I am. How I have never achieved anything I've tried. How change is an impossible feat and how I should just give up on life because I suck. I feel like I'm a terrible person with no return. My kids hate me, I don't know how to parent. My husban is unhappy with me. I'm just failing at life and I'm done with it. 

It's true...

Again from the book Bottled by Dana Bowman 

Manifestations of Zombie mom

A.K.A Me

 Excerpts from Bottled by Dana Bowman 

Anxiety

It's this energy that exists inside me. Almost like my insides are going to explode or are shaking. It makes sitting uncomfortable, except the thought of doing anything feels impossible. It's the complete opposite of peace and contentment. It's feeling like I want to curl up in a ball and disappear. It's the feeling of wanting to scream, but not wanting to say anything at all.  

An Addict fell in a hole

I love this story. Can a fellow addict walk by the hole I'm stuck in and help me out please? 

AN ADDICT FELL IN A HOLE and couldn’t get out.

A businessman went by and the addict called out for help. The businessman threw him some money and told him to buy himself a ladder. But the addict could not buy a ladder in this hole he was in.

A doctor walked by. The addict said, “Help! I can’t get out!” The doctor gave him some drugs and said, “Take this. It will relieve the pain.” The addict said thanks, but when the pills ran out, he was still in the hole.

A well-known psychiatrist rode by and heard the addict’s cries for help. He stopped and asked, ” How did you get there? Were you born there? Did your parents put you there? Tell me about yourself, it will alleviate your sense of loneliness.” So the addict talked with him for an hour, then the psychiatrist had to leave, but he said he’d be back next week.

The addict thanked him, but he was still in the hole. A priest came by. The addict called for help. The priest gave him a Bible and said, “I’ll say a prayer for you.” He got down on his knees and prayed for the addict, then he left. The addict was very grateful, he read the Bible, but he was still stuck in the hole.

A recovering addict happened to be passing by. The addict cried out, “Hey, help me. I’m stuck in this hole!” Right away the recovering addict jumped down in the hole with him. The addict said, “What are you doing? Now we’re both stuck here!!” But the recovering addict said, “Calm down. It’s okay. I’ve been here before. I know how to get out.”

I love this!  This is definitely true for me.  I would say if you have interactions with me you would never guess that I'm a complete mess.  I feel bad that my blog comes across as so negative and depressing. It's my outlet to to express my inner deepest thoughts, the ones hat I don't share in person. Only those that read my blog will know that my sock is falling off and the elastic is ruined and needs replaced. 

Binge and Purge cycle

Once you become deep within the binge and purge cycle it starts to feel impossible to come out of.  I don't know how other bulimics cycles are, but let me paint a picture.

It usually begins because I feel like over eating and/or eating something that is on my forbidden food list.  Maybe I wake up one morning feeling extra hungry and I eat a bowl of cereal.  After my bowl I still feel hungry so maybe I'll eat a second bowl or a piece of toast.  "What kind of person eats two bowls of cereal" runs through my mind.  The extreme, debilitating guilt begins to sink in.  I can't possibly sit with what I've just done.  Sometimes before throwing up I may plan to just throw up enough to account for the second bowl.  Except, I remember that I have probably already absorbed more than the first bowl and the only way I can think to get out of this is by getting rid of all of it.  The relief comes and I feel better about myself now.  It's okay I tell myself.  I will make better decisions at lunch time.

Then, the period of time between breakfast and lunch creeps up.  I was starving when I woke up and even though I may have absorbed some of the calories and sugars of the food I ate, I have no fiber or substance in my belly.  As far as my body is concerned I haven't eaten yet.  So hunger sets in quite quickly.  

Eleven o'clock rolls around.  I'm starving physically and mentally.  At this point the cycle starts to begin.  I either eat something knowing I'll just throw it up or I go into the meal with good intent to keep it down.  If the second option is the one that occurs, I usually eat lunch with the best intentions.  I may even eat something healthy like a salad. Problem is my sweet tooth (that is an addiction all in itself).  As soon as I eat a food I usually crave a sweet after.  So I eat my salad and maybe a Popsicle.  Maybe I crave an ice cream or some pieces of candy.  Either way, the morning starts to haunt me.

  "What if I absorbed all the calories of those two bowls of cereal and now I just ate a big salad and a treat". 

 "What if I've already consumed a 1000 calories or more?"  

"If I want to lose weight I can only have 1300 calories".

  "I will definitely eat more than that at this point."

 " I must rid myself of the calories I just consumed."

  My body feels full and disgusting.  There's a feeling in my gut, a feeling that is familiar.  It's the feeling of fullness.  I don't like it.  I want to feel empty again.  I want to feel light. 

You get what comes next?  So what now?  I've now ridden myself of all the fiber and bulk of breakfast and lunch.  My belly is empty, my physical part of me feels better.  Except the hunger still haunts me.  My stomach is hungry, but my mind is being consumed and haunted by the thoughts.  Now I am thinking 

"shit, I've now possibly absorbed a 1000 calories, yet I'm still hungry".

So I eat again.  Maybe I eat something small, maybe I eat another lunch again with intentions of finally just keeping it down.  As you can probably guess, the rest of my day continues in this cycle until I can finally go to sleep.

The problem is, I am now in a cycle.  I wake up the next day still with guilt from the day before and the unknown amount of calories that I may have absorbed.  I'm hungry.  My body feels yucky to me, yucky to look at and yucky to touch.  The hunger.. the day repeats itself.

This is my binge and purge cycle and the only way to break it is to FINALLY accept my hunger and fullness.  I must accept that I'm hungry and my body wants food and if I over eat then oh well.  It's the only way.  Until I can give my body some nutrition.

The problem with purging and absorbing calories, yet still getting rid of the bulk.  Nutrients are absorbed in our intestines.  If I never let my food get to my intestines I become malnourished.  Nutrients feed our bodies and our minds.

I need those nutrients :(  I need out.

Dear husband

If I died today I'm afraid of the memories I might leave you with. I'm afraid that no one sees me, that my actions over power who I truly am. I promise my heart is good. I have love and a big heart that is masked by an ill mind. Our kids have been robbed of their mom. I can easily fall into thinking they would be better off without me. I feel like every day causes more damage to their Innocent souls. They too would be left with memories that aren't pleasant. 

My dear husband, if only you knew 10 years ago what you were marrying. I'm sorry.... I'm so....so...sorry.  I know those words feel empty.  If you could see me, like really see me, you would understand..

Stress

Why can't I seem to handle stress? Specifically financial stress. I feel like a heavy weight come over my body and it makes me feel like I'm drowning. The feeling is so heavy I hardly feel like I can continue breathing. But why? So what if we are in debt? What if we are late on a payment? What if we spend all our money before payday? We aren't going to die. We aren't going to be out on the streets. Everything is just fine.  I need to remind myself these things. It's going to be ok.