Tired and Sad

Well, I am happy to say that I am finished with all of my Disability paperwork to date. It has been a long and arduous project. It started in January when I was on those heinous Tramadol pills. I ended up messing up that set of paperwork so much I had to just type them out. It's been crazy.

Last night I almost had a melt-down when the computer came up with a message that the file had become corrupted or was lost.

!@#$%^&*

Then I couldn't make Word work at all.

!@#$%^&*

Had I not been talking to my best friend Pablo I am sure I would have completely lost it and had a drama fit. After all of that work and I thought I had lost it all! It took forever to get the computer to shut down, and then forever to reboot, and then a short forever to get the file to come back up. Pablo held my hand virtually until it came back. I love that boy.

So today I went to print the thing off to mail and...ran out of ink.

!@#$%^&*

So, I had to go out to the office supply store and get some so I could finally put that thing in the mail. I am SO glad it's not here anymore, I've had enough of it, all the way around.

:) :) :) :) :)

But, I have to say that dwelling on everything in those reports has taken a toll on me. It took quite a physical toll, especially this last week as I have worked like crazy to get them finished and back to the SSD office. All of the typing and sitting for hours at a time really wreaked havoc throughout my body. This will be a short post, I think, as my hands and back already hurt so much.

But the other thing about filling out those reports--Work History, Function, and Symptoms--they really hit home the reality of how badly my body functions now. And that has put me into rather a sadness and I think a type of mourning for my losses.

As I filled out the work history, I went through all of my jobs for the last 15 years. The very first one on the list was as a Student Manager of my university dining hall. I loved that job, and I was really good at it. I could buzz around that dining hall from one end to the other and not miss a beat. I smelled like a French fry all the time, but I loved it. That was a really hard job and I did it well. And it grieves me to think I cannot perform even a fraction of that job today.

The function report saddened me as well, making me feel like I'm worthless. The wording of the questions was rather harsh, asking, so-what-DO-you-do-all-day kinds of questions. And it really hurt my heart to think of what I cannot do, and what my mother, who is twice my age, has to do for me most of the time. A simple task like laundry is virtually impossible at this time.

And I can't believe that I will be like this forever, I just can't.

I want to be a better me, and I am so frustrated at what I can't do anymore, and I haven't figured out how to cope with being the me that I am at this point. Everything I can think to do I can't seem to make happen. I don't know how else to be. I need to help myself, indeed, but the things I know I can do don't seem to be enough to get anywhere.

I SO don't want to wallow like I was doing last month. Oh, I don't! But my frustration is so great that I just feel like if I don't get it off of my chest I will sink even deeper into depression.

I don't want to stress out Pablo either, and don't want him to feel burdened by me or my struggles. He gets so sad when I tell him what's going on, and I know he wants to know, and cares what's going on, but I know there are so many things in his life that he has to deal with, and I hate the thought that I would be a source of pain in his life. He is always trying to think of ways to help me. I wish I could help him.

And my mom, God bless my mom, I don't know what I'd do without her. She takes care of me and so many things that I can't. It's so not fair that she has me to deal with. And I feel guilty, too, because I'm afraid that I won't get better, that I will never find a mate to spend the rest of my life with...I feel so selfish for wanting a husband when she has no one. I don't want to feel this way. I wish she would at least find somebody to love her like she deserves.

My father in no way treated her like she needed or should have been treated. He only hit her once in front of me, sending her sailing across the camping trailer with a thud. I will NEVER forget that as long as I live. I can still hear the sound her body made hitting against the cupboard, can still see her in my mind's eye sitting on the floor like a rag doll. Oh, God, I beg you, please send her the man of her dreams, she's waited a lifetime for him!!!

Anyway, all of this together combined with the report I just finished on symptoms...I surely feel sad at the loss of my former self. But you know, in the back of my mind I know there's hope. I know that there are things I am preparing for, or more accurately, that God is preparing me for. I have always defined myself by what I've done, or answered to where I worked as to what I was up to. I don't know how to answer right now. Nothing's making much sense, and I'm trying not to panic.

This, too, shall pass, I know that. I'm surrounded by amazing people in my life who remind me daily how lucky I am. I just want to be a blessing. I'm hoping that I can find something to bless others with that I can do without a hitch. I haven't blogged at all like I planned. Life has gotten in the way a few times and tripped me up. I guess I expect perfect, and then when I screw up, I give up. But I don't want to give up this blog, and maybe I just set too high of expectations. I intended to write daily. I find I'm too tired most days to do it. But, like I did tonight, I need to push myself and do it anyway, but then make sure I don't push myself too far. It's difficult to come back from too far. I've already spent a whole hour more than I intended...time seems to fly by so quickly.

Anyway, I'm glad that is over with, and I know that this melancholy will subside. I hope in the meantime I can come up with something that will help me cope better and take some of the pressure off of me and those I love.

:) Jan

Talking to God

I need to talk to God more. That is such an understatement!!!

Who else could I talk to that understands every pain and every situation in my life? Who has suffered more, done more, seen more, said more? Who else could I turn to that would actually want to hear every last thing I have to say?

Why is it that He's the last one I seem to turn to?

I have to admit I wish I was one of those people who could say, "You know, God told me this," or maybe, "You know, I know God wants me to that...." I know quite a few people that say this, and for awhile I was quite upset with God because I didn't 'hear' Him.

"God, why don't I hear You?"

He must laugh at us, shake His head at us, marvel at our denseness. I know He definitely must have quite a show when watching me! I can imagine Him sitting up in Heaven, and there's something about to be revealed to one of us and He elbows Michael and says, "Watch this, you're going to love this!" I bet He enjoys watching those moments.

But you know, I realized that God 'talks' to me through books and TV. That probably sounds dumb, but I believe it. Every time I need to hear something, I hear it from one of those sources. It never ceases to amaze me how I always hear what I need to hear. Whether it comes from Joyce Meyer, David Jeremiah, heck Dr. Phil, I always hear whatever I need to hear when I need to hear it. It surely makes me realize that in a world full of so many people and so much to tend to, God still remembers me and that makes me special! Hard to even wrap my brain around, but it's true!

I battle so much with feeling like I don't count, I don't matter, I don't make a difference in this world, I'm not important, I'm not special. I know that it stems from how my father treated me and how I saw myself through his eyes. The incredible lack of self-esteem I have and have had my entire life often fuels my depression. The last several weeks have found me wallowing in depression and self pity. I would probably still be there if Pablo hadn't gotten fed up with my doom and called me out on it. Truly, everything was...suck. This sucks, that sucks, everybody sucks, everything sucks, life sucks, I suck.... He had finally had enough and said pretty much hey, get a grip, you have lots to be thankful for, don't get bitter.

I surely felt bitter. I had to head back to WVU to see the same doctor who had put me on that Tramadol and whose office had never even called me back about it. Why? Because my PCP's office said they really didn't want to deal with it, and really didn't even have time to make the appointment! But I've raved about the medical establishment enough, so I'm not giving that any more time. Suffice it to say that I'd had enough medical crap and thought it sucked....

Anyway, all sorts of things were happening around me, and I was letting them pile on top of me instead of dealing with them as I could and looking to God for strength. I actually had three panic attacks last week, and I haven't had those in years! The enemy definitely had me where he wanted me--helpless from being petrified and completely without hope. The devil is not an idiot. He's so good at his job, he knows us so well, way better than we know ourselves. And unfortunately I let him win the last couple of weeks. Well, praise God above He had Pablo smack me in the head, and then sent Joyce Meyer and David Jeremiah to remind me how God works to help us get back from where we've been.

And I hated where I was--no one wants to be miserable and make the people around them miserable. I had just gotten so low that I was below the horizon and ready to about give myself up to misery. Uff, that's not fun, not a fun place to be, not a fun place to stay, and I don't know when you get that low if you have any strength to pull yourself out of it. I truly think that it takes someone else to say, "All right, that's enough, you have to come back to the light." I don't think I had that strength, and unfortunately the only other person I was really talking to besides Pablo was in the same boat I was in. Hard to keep yourself from drowning when another person is drowning beside of you and you keep grabbing onto each other. There's no help in that situation!

I truly want to help others battle these and other struggles. Whether the battle is depression, addiction--which by the way I lost another 1.4 pounds but I think I gained it all back plus more today. I had a day where all I wanted to do was eat. Luckily I don't have a lot of food around now that I can just scarf--gosh I wanted chocolate badly!!! But believe me, I did enough damage with high fiber bread and butter.... But the battle over these kinds of pressures is a difficult one, and one I know we can't handle alone.

I have been a solitary person most of my life. Since I was little--I think in part due to the molestations--I have kept things to myself or tried to figure out how to deal with them on my own. Pablo is the first person I ever really showed my real self to. And boy, it hasn't always been a pretty picture, that's for sure! But, I know what it's like to try to keep all the secrets, all of the battles, everything negative to oneself, and I know the outcome is never good. Even though I thought I was keeping the 'bad stuff' from Pablo over the last several weeks, I showed him the 'bad stuff' that was festering inside of me because of keeping it all in. We need to share our burdens, there's no shame in that, it's what makes us human--and that's not a bad thing!

An old friend wrote to me and said she's read some of my entries and always thought I was happy-go-lucky, and that she never had any idea what was really going on in my life. She was so right, as I did everything I could to make sure people wanted to be around me by being funny or seeming happy. In talking to my counselor I have come to realize that I have 'made' different masks to wear in dealing with people, all stemming from my interactions with my dad, mainly. I have an Entertainer mask that I wear a lot. Of course, the Happy Fat Girl is a pretty common image in the entertainment industry, and why is that? Because we're pretty common. Most of the women I know who have significant weight issues play the Happy Fat Girl role. It makes us pleasing to people who we do not want to consider us unacceptable, and as unacceptable as we feel to ourselves. If we can make someone happy, then maybe they can make us happy, too. Boy, I have a lot more to say about that when it comes to men, but I'll deal with that in another post sometime.

That happy mask is one that I had fairly well glued to my face until I met Pablo. I think he peeled it off...I surely didn't want him to see the real me. I'm so thankful that he did it, but it has been a painful process to try to heal what's underneath. And let me tell you, I'm not anywhere near ready to drop it! I don't know what I really look like underneath. It's weird to think I'm 35 years old and don't really know who I am. I know who I've tried to be, who I've pretended to be, but to let my mask down and just be me? I don't know who I really am, and I don't know how to drop the mask yet. More counseling needed....

Well, I don't know how I ended up here when I was talking about praying to God, but, I guess I needed to go through all of that. When I bring it all around it simply means one thing: I need to pray to God. Over the last couple of weeks I have been beating myself up for not changing, not being a better person, not thinking correctly, not having a good attitude. I was wondering what was wrong with me that I couldn't change. Well, Joyce Meyer was talking about change, and about how we try to change ourselves and others. She said only God can change people, we can't. What we can do, and should do, is do what we can do and pray for God to do those things we simply can't. Well, that was so good to hear because I keep trying to change myself and beat myself up because I don't change. I've been struggling so much with the battle and the worry that I won't ever change. What I haven't been doing is praying to God to change what I can't.

I pray all day long, whenever something comes to mind, but I haven't been very focused in my prayers. I know I need to talk to God and really be honest, and then He will change me in His time according to what I need, not what I think I need. I always beat myself up, too, wondering why I can't keep my mind focused on God and what I know I should do, but then, didn't the Apostle Paul wonder at why he seemed to be able to do the things he didn't want to do, but the things he knew he should do he didn't do? I know I often forget that even the heroes of the Bible were failures in living the life God calls us to. But none of us are perfect, and never will be. I don't know why I think I am the only one who should be and fails at it.

Anyway, bottom line is, I'm thankful for the life I have and I don't want to return to the self pity and depression mode I was in. I have so much that I don't deserve praise God, but then I have so much I need to give that I'm not doing, Lord please help me! I want to serve God but need to quit getting in the way of myself. I need to ask God for help, and ask others for help, because no one on this earth can do everything by themselves. And, if I truly want to change, then I need to seek God's help through prayer, and simply do that which I know to do.

God bless!

:) Jan