Not Unless You REALLY Want To Know Me Right Now

Here we go again. I have a new psychiatrist now. Not by choice. My insurance ran out and to see Dr. Hudepohl at the hospital is almost $200 a visit and I’ve been going once a month. Fortunately, Rhode Island has some pretty amazing health resources available. I’ve been seeing a psychiatrist at the Butler Residents Clinic and due to my uninsured status, it is free. Without it I would be going without therapy and without medication and I think we all know how that would turn out. I’ve only had a few visits and I haven’t made up my mind about it, but it’s different than the visits I’m used to. She doesn’t necessarily agree with a diagnosis of bipolar II but also said she wouldn’t rule it out. It’s possible it’s because the medication actually has the manic depression under control, but I still don’t feel right. It sucks because you feel on the up-and-up, start to feel more like yourself again, and then next thing you know you live in your pajamas again and are completely useless again. She thinks there’s definitely depression in some form at work, but she thinks I don’t need as much psychiatry and medication as much as I need regular therapy for anger issues. When she first told me that I thought that was so stupid and there was no way she was right. I monitored my moods and behaviors after she told me and I realized she MIGHT be right. I had told her that I’d been having issues with impulse control.

I’m not even sure how long ago I started writing this post. I’m guessing about a month. I stopped because writing about this is so emotionally exhausting for me. I think I’m struggling more and more. I don’t feel like a worthy human, a worthy mother, wife, I feel unworthy of trying to bear God’s name. I don’t want to get out of bed (but I do) but find myself not wanting to go home if I’m out by myself. Not to go anywhere. But to just be on my own. I’ve often thought of driving down to the ocean and listening, partially because the ocean holds so much peace and partially because I’m curious to see how long it would be before my husband called to see where I was. I feel like I don’t even know how to be human anymore. I’m constantly overwhelmed inside my mind and I’m often confused and scared. I feel like the alien bug from Men in Black that takes over Vince D’Onofrio’s body and keeps asking the wife for sugar water. A fake person in a human skin trying my best to pass as functional. I often want to cry, but I can’t anymore. I haven’t in months and even when I want to, I try to but it won’t come out. It’s like when you have a sneeze and you have that stupid look on your face until the feeling either goes away or you actually get it out. I haven’t been able to get it out. It’s hurting my marriage. It’s hurting my relationship with God. I haven’t been able to pray properly. I try and my mind goes elsewhere and my heart doesn’t know what it needs.  I haven’t been able to think straight. I’ve had headaches for three days straight, I haven’t been to work on time probably since I went back to work. I’m continually waiting for a reprimand from my boss and preemptively trying to come up with a way to explain that I really am trying but I guess I can try harder? Maybe that one time when I tried to get there early because I knew we were going to be super busy. I didn’t manage early but I did manage on time that day. I can’t stop spending money that we don’t have. On nothing in particular either. DVDs. Lots of DVDs. Clothes for babygirl, though to be fair she didn’t really have warm enough clothes in her size. Small furniture purchases. Lots of miscellaneous stuff from Amazon. I just want to be okay again.

The Bad Time

Here we are. The two year anniversary of the worst day of my life. Honestly, it may have even passed me by unnoticed except for the posts in remembrance of my grandfather. But since I have been reminded, today has been tough. I wonder who Atticus would have been by now. He would have been 16 months old. I’ve been trying to keep super busy at work and I’m playing loud, fun music. Now I’m sitting down to lunch and it’s quiet except for my munching. I don’t like it; at least not today.
I do think my subconscious knew what was going on. I’ve had my head up my butt all week, making big mistakes at work, which are rare for me. I’ve been scatterbrained and kind of sad all week. I’m in what I call “manic panic.” It’s not anxiety or a panic attack, but a high energy feeling like I have to rush for no reason. Like adrenaline, maybe? I’m moving too fast and causing myself problems. Maybe once today is over I’ll go back to my version of normal. I hope so because this sucks. I’m not used to being a train wreck at work. My boss bestows the honor of The Knucklehead Award when you screw up. I’ve always been able to reason my way out of being the knucklehead of the day, but I’ve earned three that I couldn’t argue with this past week. (Don’t worry, it’s all in good fun. It’s basically an informal way of saying, “yeah you screwed up today. Try to do better tomorrow.” Even my boss has earned it.)
I have an extremely casual relationship with my boss as well, so I told him that I figured out why my head has been up my butt all week. When I told him why he responded that it did sound like one of the worst days he’s ever heard of, losing a grandparent and unborn baby the same day. he followed it up with a statement I’ve heard quite a bit: “You’re looking at it the wrong way. If you hadn’t gone through that you wouldn’t have Fb. You’re probably a stronger mom because of it.” I love Fb with all of heart and would do just about anything for her, but she didn’t replace Atticus. If I could have both right now, I would. I think people that have never lost like that have a hard time wrapping their heads around that concept. They would never say it if he had been born, but because he wasn’t born, he was never real to others. He was real to me, he was real to God.
Forgive me, but I just needed a self-pity party for a little bit today. Hopefully I can snap myself back to the plastered smile and too-loud happy music again. Fake it til you make it.

Meet the Little Red Hawk

Hello, everyone! Welcome to me, the Little Red Hawk.

I figured I'd say hello, tell you a little bit about me, what this blog is (hopefully) going to be and whatever. 

My name is Heather. I have a husband, Jonathan (aka Jon, Jawn, or Lovie); 

 2 cats, Krieger and Marceline;

and two chickens, Toast and Butters. They're not really pets to me so  I don't have current pictures of them. They're buff orpingtons and they provide my breakfast every day. I work a regular job every day framing artwork. It's a pretty good time. I consider myself moderately health-conscious, fairly bookish, and very unphotogenic. I'm an amalgam of all my experiences and choices made into one person. I don't know, I think I'm pretty okay. 

So what's the blog about? Oh, let's be pretentious for a minute and call it a lifestyle blog. I'll be talking about things I do in my life to improve myself, products that I like using, foods I like to eat. I'll tell you, this blog is brand new, so obviously I'm not sponsored. Any product that I plug is something I'm familiar with and believe in enough to want to share it with you. Even if at some unfathomable point this did become popular enough to be sponsored, I would still only plug something I believe in. You can hold me to that. 😉

So we'll see where this goes. Hopefully it'll be a fun cathartic exercise for me to start writing again. I'll be writing real blog posts post haste and you'll see what I'm really all about. Until next time!