Monday 8/21/23 Therapy

 I had therapy last Thursday and we covered a variety of topics: work, my physical health, art, and my best friend Lesley most likely moving out of state. My friend moving is what I want to focus on today.

See, I don't have many friends. People whom I consider good friends. Aside from my hubby, I have two. Yep. Only two. Beth and Lesley. And Lesley is my best friend. I've known her for 15 years. She's always been there for me, no matter what I've needed. And now . . . well, now she's probably moving out of state, back to Ohio. And I haven't really acknowledged this fact. In fact, I've been ignoring it and it's implications. Which came up with full force in therapy.

Becky asked me about my friends and other relationships. Most of my other "friends" are just people I'm friendly with at work - they're not people whom I consider friends. I casually mentioned that Lesley was going to most likely be moving and Becky asked me to elaborate on that. And so I did. And I got emotional. It took everything I had not to start crying which caught me off guard. See, mostly I've been frustrated with Lesley as of late. I haven't really thought of her actually moving. And apparently, this is going to be rough for me. 

Some back story on Lesley: she's an introvert. Very much so. She'd rather be at home more than anywhere else. Each year for my, Beth's, and her birthdays we would go out and get coffee. Give gifts. Have a good time. The past two years it's been like pulling teeth to get her to leave her house - even for this. We don't ask much of her - we know she's an introvert. But now it's getting worse. She's had a rough year - she lost two of her three dogs (her dogs are like her kids to her) and had back surgery, from which she's still recovering. I get that it's been a rough year for her, I do. But she's becoming even more reclusive because of it, if that's even possible. She's turning inward and giving in to her misery and isn't doing anything to help herself. She won't let anyone - including Beth and I - to do anything for her. I just see her getting worse and worse. If she didn't have her dog, Kevin, I think she'd throw in the towel. Which worries me, greatly. 

Since she's been on FMLA (which has been about 10 weeks, I think), it seems as though she's given up on life completely. She's giving up on everything she has. She's had a realtor come to her house, she's packing, she's making sure she has her nursing license squared away in Ohio . . . she's set on selling her house, moving back home to Ohio, and getting a nursing job where she doesn't have to leave her house. And she's being rather secretive about all of this. She's giving hints but isn't coming outright and saying it. I have to pry it out of her. I feel as though she's pulling away from us to try and make it easier on herself. 

All of this frustrates me and makes me angry. But, what I didn't realize, is how sad it's making me. Talking with Becky brought the sadness out. And I don't know what to do with it or how to handle it. Lesley leaving is going to be a loss I have to go through. We'll still text and send each other memes and face time, but it's not going to be the same. I won't see her at work. I can't just go over to her house or out to coffee with her. I'm going to miss her. And I didn't realize the impact of this until talking to Becky about it. The whole situation sucks. I want Lesley to be happy, but I don't want her to go. Which feels awfully selfish of me. 

Becky said I should write a letter to Lesley, telling her gently how I feel. And I thought I would. But I got home from therapy last Thursday feeling drained and I didn't. And then I swept my feelings under the rug and forgot about them. Or at least tried to. Until now. So here I am, writing everything out. I don't know what I would say to Lesley. I don't know how to put it gently. I don't want to make her feel bad. I don't want to make this harder for her. But my feelings matter too, I guess. So, here goes.

Lesley. You are my best friend and I love you. I wish you knew how much people cared about you. I wish you knew how much I care about you. I wish things were different and you hadn't have had such a rough year. But it feels like you're running away and giving up. It feels like you're pushing me away and not letting me in any more. It feels shitty. I want nothing more than for you to be happy but I feel like you're going about it the wrong way. And yes - I feel shitty and selfish for saying that. I don't want you to get to Ohio and still be unhappy, but now you have no support and no one that you know to help you. I'm going to miss you. Even though you drive me crazy sometimes, I'm going to miss you. Texting and face timing are not the same as seeing you in person and I'm worried that our friendship will suffer because of it. I feel it already has. I feel like you're not treating this as the big deal that it is. This is a huge life change and it's going to affect all of us, for better or worse. Most likely for worse. I don't want you to change your mind because of me. I want you to be happy. I just don't want to lose you as a friend and have you push me away because you think it'll be easier that way. It won't be. I'm angry and frustrated and sad. And I don't know how to tell you any of this without hurting your feelings or making you feel bad. I'm sorry for this. I just need you to know that you are loved and you are going to be missed. 

I don't know what else to say. I feel what I've written is not very good. In all honesty, I don't think I would show it to her. Unless I showed her this whole blog post for context. I hate the situation. I wish she could be happy here. I wish she wasn't leaving. I wish it didn't feel like I was losing my best friend. 

And yes, I'm crying. 

 

Friday 5/29/20 Bets Off

Oy vey. I'm supposed to be at work today. I'm writing this so obviously I'm not. I was put on delayed start until one. That means instead of going into work at 7am, my delayed start time is 1pm - but only if I'm needed. If I'm not needed I'll be put on call. I have a sneaking suspicion that I won't be needed.

So I'm at home, trying to come up with something to do. I want to draw, I just can't come up with something to draw. So I figured I'd write instead. Listen to some music. See if I can get the creative juices flowing.

And so far it's not working.

Damn.

Mood wise I'm status quo: empty, down, numb, hopeless, pointless, etc. I have maintenance TMS again next Tuesday the 2nd. I'm hopefully going to talk to Dr. F and see if he's accepting new patients. I hope so. I pray he is. (If you read my last post you know why). I need something new, a fresh set of eyes, and I don't think I'll get that from Dr. M anymore. I truly believe Dr. M is done with me.

In other news, I hate my hair. I'm growing it out from a pixie and it's in this really awkward phase of being too long but too short to do anything. I'm so close to cutting it off again. I really hate it. And hair on average grows only 6 inches per year. This is going to take forever. Two-three years of awkwardness. Ugh. What to do, what to do . . .

I guess I don't have that much to say today.  Hope all is well with you.

Tuesday 5/5/20 Cinco de Mayo

Well, it's Cinco de Mayo and Taco Tuesday on the same day! How fun is that? Answer: not really all that fun. At least not in quarantine. Maybe if restaurants were open . . .

Yesterday would have been my normal day for therapy but my therapist and I decided to go 2 weeks this go around. So I don't see him until next Monday. Which actually kind of sucks because I could sure use a vent session. I'm not doing great.

I'm at the point where I'm not really suicidal but I wouldn't mind if I ceased to exist. It's not a good place to be. Everything just seems so pointless and stupid. There's no reason for anything. I hate feeling like this. Especially because suicidal ideation usually isn't far behind. I'm trying to come up with things to help.

I was supposed to work today but I was put on call and then released, so no work for me today. Which is a blessing in disguise. I was dreading work today because I felt so badly yesterday. So I did something with my time: I drew 8 pictures of sparrows. I still need to paint them, but I figure I can do that tomorrow or Friday (drawing them today was as much as I could handle). But that's productive, yeah? And I love sparrows, they represent hope to me. So I actually accomplished something. And that's good!

Except I feel that it was all for naught. Why? Because everything is pointless to me. What's the point in painting the sparrows? What does it accomplish? Do I feel better? (No, no I don't). I feel overwhelmed actually because now I have to paint them.

This pointlessness is killing me. I don't know what to do about it. Positive thinking, countering my thinking, isn't making a dent at all. Right now I'm just stubbornly pushing through. It seems it's all I can do. This is why therapy would have been nice. Maybe get a suggestion or two on how to battle my fucked up mind.

I just want to nap. It's all I ever really want to do anymore. I hate that. It's not constructive. It's counterproductive. It's hiding. But it's all I want to do, and sometimes all I can do. I'll get through this, I keep telling myself that. Depression lies. I've been a lot worse in the past and I made it through. I'll make it through again. 

Monday 3/23/20

It's been a week since my last post. Things have changed. My son's school is closed at least until April 17th, but probably for the rest of the school year. The "dine-in" portion of all restaurants are closed - you can only get take out. Gyms, movie theaters, bars, tattoo parlors, hair salons, spas . . . all closed. Our governor is call for a 50% reduction in workforce of all "non-essential" personnel. Everyone is to stay inside, social distancing they call it.

I, being a nurse, am "essential". And I have been working more. I picked up an extra shift this week (tomorrow) and am on call today in addition to my regular shifts. Next week, so far, I've picked up an extra call shift. We've been busy. Lots of people having babies for some reason. We haven't had a coronavirus patient on my floor yet (that I'm aware of), but I know we do on the med/surg floor and ICU. I'm thankful that I work where I work and I'm hoping we don't see too many pregnant ladies with covid-19. I'm also hoping we don't get pulled to work other floors. To be perfectly honest, I wouldn't know what I'm doing. This is one of my biggest fears right now. I pray it doesn't come to fruition.

Depression and anxiety are running rampant through me right now. I'm fighting, struggling, to keep them both at bay. All I can do right now is suppress them, which I know is not good. They're both bubbling up, right under the surface. I'm supposed to have therapy on Thursday, but I'm not sure if it will be happening. I haven't heard anything from M yet as to it being cancelled, but the week is still young. For his safety and for mine he very well may cancel. I'm hoping not. I could really use it right now. And, if I'm being honest, I'm very pissed that I can't go get a haircut right now. I have a pixie cut and I could really use a trim. I'm going to look awful when they can potentially open up at the end of April. First world problems, I know. But little things like a fresh haircut keep me going. I need little things right now to keep me going.

Oh well. I have a feeling all of this is going to get much worse before it gets better. 

Friday 2/7/2020

Hey there, I'm back. It's been a bit. It's cold and snowy here in Colorado. In fact, it's snowing right now. An unofficial snow day (my son stayed home from school - we're both sick). Well, let's get to it.

I went back to work this week after having 3.5 weeks off for my surgery. I worked Monday and yesterday. Monday was hell - we delivered 9 babies. Not the welcome back I was hoping for (I was hoping for a nice leisurely day *laughs*). I was exhausted and cranky by the end of the day. Thursday I floated to NICU, which I hate doing. I don't work in the NICU because I don't like it, so why would I want to float there?? Second day back and I can't even work on my own unit. I was, again, rather cranky.

Why am I telling you this? Well, because work has become an increasingly larger and larger problem for me. See, I'm burnt out. I was incredibly burnt out before my surgery. I thought having 3 and a half weeks off would help the situation. I thought I would go back refreshed.

That's not what happened.

I went back to work bitter and angry and tired. I went back to work and learned there were more changes made that are out of my control. I went back to work and I struggled. I struggled to keep my head above water. I struggled to keep up. I struggled to care. I'm a nurse - I'm supposed to care. I didn't.

I don't know what to make of this, honestly. I feel like I need to get away. From everything. From adulting. Maybe that would help. Maybe I need a change. I don't know. I just know I'm not happy.

My black cloud is my ever close companion right now. I'm not enveloped - my cloud is on the sidelines, inching closer every day. I still feel the effects though. I thought, maybe this is why I'm hating my job. Maybe this is why I feel overwhelmed. But alas, I was feeling these things before my black cloud came back. The cloud certainly makes it worse, but it's not the cause.

I don't know what to do. I don't know who to talk to. Hubby? Obviously. Therapist? Of course. But who else? I work with my 2 closest friends (can't talk to other coworkers because of gossip). I can talk to my 2 friends but I don't think they'll get the depth of what I'm feeling. I'm not even sure I do.

I feel incredibly lost.


  

Wednesday 11/20/19

If you read my last post you know I'm struggling just a little. It's a silent struggle mostly - I'm not being vocal about it to friends or family. As far as everyone is concerned I'm A-OK. Maybe this isn't the best thing to do. Maybe I should speak up instead of silently suffering. It's just that, well, everyone wants me to be doing good and I don't want to let them down. TMS was the silver bullet to my depression - it worked. And to have my depression come back before I've even paid off treatment . . . well, I can't stand that scenario.

As of right now it's just little things. Like anger. I'm getting angry at stupid little things. And yes, I know, everyone does this from time to time. But it's becoming more frequent and consistent for me.

Sleeping. I'm starting to sleep entirely too much. Sleeping in, naps, you name it, I'm doing it. I wake up around 5am and feel awake. So what do I do? I go back to bed until 8 when I have to take my son to school. When I get home from that I tend to go back to bed until 10 or 11 before I get up and get ready for the day. If I don't know what to do with my time I'll nap. This happens every day I don't work. It's becoming obscene.

Negative thinking. Negative thinking and I go way back, back to my childhood where I never thought I was good enough. But when I've been feeling better I've been able to manage it pretty well. Well, not anymore. Negative thinking is taking over in a no-holds-barred match. It's like, if I can put a negative spin on something, I will. Now, keep in mind these thoughts are automatic - I'm not purposefully doing this. But they're there, and as much as I try to counter them they seem to be winning out.

Motivation and inspiration. My motivation for virtually anything is long gone. I'm still getting my butt to the gym, though not as regularly as I'd like, because of my lack of motivation. I also have no motivation to do things like keep my house clean or shower. Sometimes I have a hard time feeding myself because I just don't care. Part of me really wants to draw and paint because that's one thing I really enjoy. But I don't have inspiration for what to paint or the motivation to accomplish it. Just yesterday I sketched some jackrabbits and thought that maybe - just maybe - I'll come up with an idea for a painting I can do today. Well, that didn't happen. Here I sit, blogging, having slept in until 11am. No motivation. No inspiration.

Little things. Little things either piss me off or bring me close to tears (mind you, I haven't been able to cry since TMS). For example, I have a pilonidal cyst (a cyst on my tailbone). It's very painful - very painful. I'm having a hard time handling this. I feel overwhelmed and near my wits end because of this. Another example - I dropped my spoon this morning. I yelled, cussed and nearly cried. Because I dropped my spoon. Little things are getting to me. I just can't handle them.

Now for me, these all seem like warning signs of early depression. I so far don't feel depressed - at least how I feel when I am depressed. But it makes me think (and overthink) and worry that I'm in for a relapse. Sadly I don't have therapy again until Dec. 5th. Don't see my psychiatrist until Dec. 10th. So I guess I'mm winging it until then. :(

Tuesday 11/5/19

I'm sitting on the couch wanting to blog but not knowing what the hell to blog about. I'm currently frustrated. Frustrated beyond belief - I'm almost shaking. My anxiety is through the roof and I can't seem to get it under control.

So. Yeah. A few weeks ago hubby and I bought a 2004 Toyota Sequoia. It had all this work done to it, was owned by a Toyota master mechanic, and was supposed to be a good vehicle. Well, It's been in the shop the past 1.5 weeks having work done on the brakes (can't seem to get them working properly). We found out today that the frame had been damaged (bent and welded - poorly - back together). This essentially makes the vehicle unsafe to drive.

What. The actual. Fuck.

Now we're stuck with this gigantic fucking SUV that we paid $8,000 for and we can't do anything with it. I mean technically we could sell it but hubby and I don't feel okay with doing that knowing what we know about the frame.

Just . . . seriously.

In other news, I went to the doctor last week to have my left hip looked at. It's been causing me a lot of pain and has been getting progressively worse. My doc thinks that I have arthritis and that my tendons are too tight. She ordered X-rays, prescribed maloxicam and physical therapy. She said if after a month of physical therapy and meds my hip wasn't notably better we'd need to do a CT scan to check the soft tissue. I got the X-ray results back today: normal. No arthritis. Which is good, but means they don't really know what's causing my pain. Which is not good. So we're staying the course with meds and physical therapy and I follow up next month.

It's just frustrating. I thought the X-ray would give a definitive answer, we'd have a course of treatment and BOOM! It would be better. But instead we're blindly stabbing in the dark for something that might help. Don't get me wrong - I'm sure physical therapy will be helpful - I'm just frustrated.

So that's my post. An obnoxious rant about what's frustrating me at the moment. I was hoping by getting it out I'd feel a little bit better. I don't. I'm still shaking and I feel like crying. Maybe I should. Maybe that would help.

Cheers.