by Band Back Together | Aug 25, 2014 | Coping With Depression, Depression, Happiness, Major Depressive Disorder, Therapy |
This has been a long time coming.
Months – if not years – of untreated depression, followed by years of depression treated with therapy. Then an all-too-brief period of remission before a slip back into depression that happened both slowly and all at once, so I didn’t even realize it at first.
It was different this time. I looked okay on the outside to all but those closest to me. I wasn’t having a breakdown every day or pulling the car over on the drive to my friends’ house to cry or to throw up. I was going to work.
But this time, I was tired of trying.
I put all that effort into getting better through sheer will, and it didn’t stick. I was frustrated. And though I absolutely didn’t want to kill myself, I needed everything to stop. I needed to be done.
I didn’t let on how relieved I was when my therapist suggested we re-visit the idea of medication.
It took a few weeks, of course. The transition wasn’t that bad. An acute breakdown caused by stress at work, which was unpleasant but okay because I’d dealt with that intense depression attack before. Then a slide back into the all-pervading guilt. But then one day I woke up feeling happy.
A fluke, I thought.
Then it happened again.
And again.
I’m on day four now, and I feel like I can function. I don’t feel stressed, I don’t feel guilty about absolutely everything.
Some things didn’t change. My coworker still drives me insane. My friends can be boring. My dog needs too much attention. But these things don’t drive me to the brink of giving up. They feel like standard downs of life, to balance out the standard ups I’ve been re-experiencing.
The ups.
I love the ups.
I almost feel like I don’t deserve this, but I know that undeserving feeling will go away as the medication continues to work. It feels strange to be able to sit here on a long weekend, doing nothing, enjoying the cloudy, wet weather. It feels strange to enjoy doing nothing, for that matter. It feels almost too good for me to see a cute guy at church and decide to go talk to him. Do normal people enjoy life this much? I’d forgotten.
It’s a simple enjoyment, but it feels right.
I don’t want to go back to the way it was before.
by Band Back Together | Aug 21, 2014 | A Letter I Can't Send, Anger, Feelings, Loneliness, Love, Romantic Relationships |
We all have letters we’d like to send, but know that we can’t. A letter to someone we no longer have a relationship with, a letter to a family member or friend who has died, a letter to reclaim our power or our voice from an abuser.
Letters where actual contact is just not possible.
Do you have a letter you can’t send?
Why not send it to The Band?
Dear Nick,
Fine, I’ll be here for when you need some quick sex or someone to yell at. Don’t worry about my fucking sanity, all that matters is yours. You have put me through so much yet hardly want to own up to it.
I have told you things about me that no one knows. When I opened up to you last night about some things that my ex said, I thought that I would receive the same compassion and comfort that I give to you when all you want to do is die. But I was wrong. You had zero compassion, or love, or understanding for what he put me through. I don’t care about him, I really don’t. But it still hurts that someone I had given everything to told me that I don’t meet his standards. Can you understand that?
Do you know how much that hurt me? You don’t seem to care what I’m feeling as long as you get laid and have someone to comfort you. What the hell am I supposed to do if I get hurt? If you can’t say a few comforting words when I’m reliving a bad memory, what happens if I really get hurt? Why am I so willing to put myself through the wringer for someone who doesn’t seem to care?
by Band Back Together | Aug 16, 2014 | Anxiety, Depression, Feelings, Loneliness, Love |
Please remember, in the midst of all the tragedies happening in the world today and every day – that you – YOU – yourself – YOU – the individual – YOU are LOVED.
So many people suffer in silence. So many people ache with the feelings of loneliness and a longing for support. It is out there. WE are out here. Ready to hold your hand, read your words, make you smile.
And please, take care of yourself today. Every day. Whether it’s your history with depression, anxiety, shame or pain, or that of a loved one, a friend, family member, you’re allowed to walk away. You don’t have to read all of the things. You just don’t.
So take a break from Facebook. Stop clicking those links. Take a break from the Internet entirely if you must. Read a magazine, a book, a cereal box. Watch your favorite happy movie. Or sad one if you need that release.
Take care of you. Self-care is critical.
by Band Back Together | Aug 13, 2014 | Fear, How To Help A Friend With Infertility, In Vitro Fertilization, Infertility |
It’s not uncommon to see my clients struggling to own their stories; especially to own every single part of their stories. We can all struggle to own, accept, embrace, and maybe even like every part of our stories.
I’ve been asked, “How do you just put it all out there without any qualms or fears?” I make sure to be very real, very honest, and very brave. Owning all the parts of my story, even on my strongest of days, involves mustering up courage; this courage does not exist without fear.
On the good days, I say who I am, my choices, and my mistakes without skipping a beat; palms dry, voice steady, my light shining through.
On the harder days I say who I am, my choices, and my mistakes while stumbling over words; palms clammy and hot, voice shaking, and yet, I make sure my hope shines through.
It’s only been through my own brutal work with my therapist that the ownership of my story has strengthened. With this continued work, practice, fight for recovery, my shame slowly dwindles.
I will continue to own and tell my story to help and change myself and – hopefully – others. I can only do this with bravery, feeling the fear, and doing it anyway.
I was recently challenged about the amount I am able to own my story within the limitations of judgment. We all judge, some more so than others. We have all been judged, some more so than others. I’m not sure we’ll ever fully escape this human experience of judgment.
What I do know is that the more I accept, embrace, and own my story – all the parts of my story – including the really difficult, misunderstood, invalidated, and judged parts of my story is that this judgment doesn’t have any room to grow.
It is really difficult to truly judge someone who wholeheartedly accepts, embraces, and owns themselves and every single part of their story.
I am not sure there will ever be a day that I am not judged on my story:
Judged for not figuring out how to try more rounds of IVF, both financially and emotionally,
Judged for knowing and making it clear that we are not choosing to adopt,
Judged for accepting a child-free life while leading a very child-full life,
Judged for living this all out loud,
Judged for attempting to change the shamed silence of infertility,
Judged for authentically living my work in recovery,
And judged for being the genuinely vulnerable therapist that I am.
But I dare you to hold on to your judgments as you read my words let alone hear me speak my story.
I dare you.
I am a survivor of infertility and IVF.
I stopped treatments after two failed rounds, because for us that was enough.
I know adoption is not my path to a family.
I bear the soul scars of three never-to-be babies, and yet I am still a mother.
I accept a child-free life, while having a very child-full life.
I will spend the rest of my life finding the end to my story by giving people permission to break the silence of infertility, and to break the silence of any of their sufferings.
I am resolving to know more than one happy ending.
I am an open and honest therapist who fights for her own recovery.
And, I dare you to judge me.
I have faith and trust that when I own every single part of my story, through my fear, shame and all, your judgment will become uncomfortable enough that your world will open up.
You will learn. You will see me – all of me. With that sight, I can only hope you grow a little more educated, a little more compassionate, and a lot more brave yourself.
And, I assure you, I will not allow your judgment and your misunderstanding to dim my light.
I will own it.
All of it.
Because only then do I find myself again.
And, only then will this light shine bright enough to hopefully give others the ever upward courage to do the very same.
I dare you…
by Band Back Together | Aug 12, 2014 | Abuse, Adult Children of Narcissistic Parents, Depression, Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Boundaries, Guilt, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Panic Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder |
Thanks to Band Back Together posts, I’ve found many links about other adult children of narcissistic parents (ACONs). I’m learning a lot about who I am and what I need to do heal from the emotional abuse I lived through.
I now understand that through emotional abuse as a child, a person develops many challenges in his or her adult relationships. ACONs are unable to judge people (especially when it comes to protecting oneself), lack understanding what is bad and wrong, instead believing everyone is good. This is what emotional abuse does – it makes us magnets for abusers in our adult relationships.
Lacking the ability to act assertively and set healthy emotional boundaries is big deal of for ACONs. Since I’ve been to the clinic, I read about narcissistic personality disorder. I now understand that I need to put myself first, to respect myself, and set emotional boundaries. This is new for me: I couldn’t tell when it was too much until was too late. I still struggle but I believe that a part of me is learning to respect myself.
I made a huge step: a friend of mine was celebrating her birthday and was pushing me to go to a disco to party with her. It was far too much for me. I have panic disorder,depression, and struggle interacting in social situations.
I explained to her how I felt, but she continued insisting – she told me she wouldn’t come to my birthday party if I didn’t go to hers. I was about to go. I’d picked out an outfit when it hit me: I knew I’d feel distressed and exhausted. I decided to call her and tell her I wasn’t coming. This was incredibly difficult for me but I did it.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel guilty or fear punishment – I felt I needed to respect myself. If she is my friend, she needs to respect my feelings. She doesn’t need to understand them, but she needs to respect them. I’m so proud of myself.
I’m starting to understand what being emotionally abused by a very manipulative malignant narcissistic mother has done to me. I’ve had to learn that it’s okay to say no when one feels like it. I can do that without feeling guilty. This is self-respect, not failing with someone else’s expectations. I’m not hurting anyone by saying I’m sorry, I can’t – I don’t want to do that.
I know it’s a long road I’m facing to learn to say, “No! Don’t touch me!” To put a really angry face when I feel disrespected, and to develop positive aggression to protect myself from abuse. For that, I need to be able to understand my emotional boundaries.
Still can’t. But I’m learning every day.
I now feel comfortable about cutting ties with my ex-boyfriend. I can see that he’s a crazy narcissistic abuser and that the best thing to do was to cut him off. I’d been feeling very insecure about dealing with him as he keeps sending me kind messages. I ignored them, but I was very insecure that cutting him off. Now I know that’s the right thing to do.
I’m loving this new found freedom. I can easily cut out all the abusers in my life. It’s been tough, though. I now see how many narcissistic people I’ve had around me my whole life. How I’ve been abused by friends and that all my ex-boyfriends – without exception – are narcissists. How I let them abuse me without realizing it. I’d get hurt and try to tell them, but they would never hear, I couldn’t see why they’d hurt me. I’d used to think it was because they didn’t realize it. I struggled, trying to make sense of their abuse. So naïve.
Of course they knew it! They just didn’t care.
I’ve got to protect myself.
by Band Back Together | Aug 11, 2014 | Marriage Problems, Stress |
You know, reading books and watching movies you often see the protagonist face a crucial decision. Would he or she become the large-hearted, generous person he or she should be? What would be the outcome of not doing so? What should he or she hold on to? What are the priorities?
And while they say “Fancy please, all I want is everything,” the real world is made of bleaker atoms than that.
Something has been disturbing my peace of mind, and while there isn’t much that I can do about it, there is much fretting that I can still do.
Let me pen portrait the background first. My hubby and his brother had a complicated upbringing (as is my perception of it). Both the boys grew up to be very different even though they have a very strong bond.
My husband is the diligent one. My brother-in-law is the happy-go-lucky one. Both of them have some complexes, and they are different. My husband is his mother’s baby. His brother is father-mushy.
My husband had a hard beginning in his career, but he is a saver. He never splurges more than his means, and always makes sure we are adding to the savings, even if they may be minuscule amounts. And I work. There are two incomes, and that makes the cushion stay.
My brother-in-law has worked at better places comparatively, and ended up living in a big city for a couple of years. The cost of living was high, and his lifestyle habits and demands of the city put a hole in the wallet. His wife stopped working after the first baby arrived. There was no cushion. They lived paycheck to paycheck, and with unexpected expenses shooting in, they looked to family to help them out.
I have never interfered with the monetary and other offers of help extended to the family.
When my sister-in-law got pregnant again, she chose ostensibly to not tell our side of the family till her sixth month (which has permanently dented my desire to communicate with her). During her last trimester she shifted to the hometown for the last stretch.
Then, my brother-in-law lost his job.
His wife was pregnant, and he knew that she will eventually deliver, but my brother-in-law did not pick up the tab of his wife’s labor and delivery charges. My father-in-law did.
And then he was pittied because he had lost his job. He too shifted back to the hometown and began looking for another job.
My sister-in-law stayed with her mum, and conveniently got the older child enrolled in the school that was a stone’s throw away. My brother-in-law lived with his parents, and both of them became bigger martyrs for not being able to stay together.
In the mid-2000’s, we had bought a duplex in our hometown. The next year we rented it out to a family. The rent we received helped us pay our home loan. We were lucky to have very nice tenants, and the same family still inhabits the house.
The house of my in-laws is ancient, and situated to the ill-convenience of everyone. Also, it has now become difficult to manage for my mother-in-law who doesn’t want to hire paid help for household work. My brother-in-law floated the idea of selling it and moving into a smaller flat, so that things would be better. My father-in-law asked for my husband’s opinion. My husband was against selling the property. He did not mind the move but did not want the parental home to be sold. His brother does not have the money to buy a flat on his own, and the idea died a natural death.
Now a new idea has mushroomed. Since my niece has now shifted to a senior class and the building is closer to our duplex. we will give up the rental income and my husband’s family will shift in. My brother-in-law said he and his wife would move in first and then a few months later, he would shift his parents with them.
I cannot change my husband’s decision to get the house vacated, but I made it very clear that the house was not meant to be occupied like this. I don’t want my husband’s brother to move in, unless my in-laws are moving in at the same time.
Now the entire burden of the loan payment will fall on us. My husband’s income is not consistent. We often spar on money related matters. I don’t need a crystal ball to see that he will eventually realize that the drain on him has increased and it will irritate him, even if he does not believe that his family has contributed to his stress.
I can’t make him remove his rose-tinted glasses for his family.
I know I have to let this go, and accept the change, but I am feeling selfish over handing the house to them. I am trying to find the frame of mind of being very generous, but I am struggling.
What would you do if you were in my shoes? Am I being too petty?
