My birthday is this week.

I’m going to be 27.

Having spent this month living in a physical rehabilitation facility – geared specifically towards seniors and geriatrics. … I know that I have only been around for a fraction of a lifetime. I’m surrounded by those who have led full lives. Careers, travels, marriage, children. They have seen it all…and acomplished so much.

I can’t help but feel lacking. I had so many goals that were going to be completed by now. I was going to be done college or university. I would have had at least one child by now; and hopefully in a stable, loving relationship. I may not have lost weight, have had the perfect job….or even the “magic” romance. Yet – I would have acomplished something. Becoming a mom.

I think that has been the reason for the crying lately. Everything is reminding me of what I haven’t done, what goals I have failed at, the children that aren’t there.

Logically – in an emotionally healthy way – I would be happy of what I do have, rejoicing in what I can do – not foxused on what I can’t. Logically. …

I don’t know how to be logical about this. I’m trying – really I am. Letting go of dreams is hard though.

When I was younger I had extremely irregular cycles; debilitating pain,  almost always sidelining me for the better part of a week. When they did an exploratory scope – it was determined that only one of my ovaries had developed fully and properly. That the one was small , with a large space around it (where they said cysts and hernias could occur), and they didn’t know if t functioned.

At 15 (ish) I was informed that I had half the reproductive capacity of the average female my age. I was told my irregularities were more then likely caused by this imbalance – and that it may have been caused by one or more of the psych meds I had been on for the past few years. And oh yeah – since most women had two ovaries, and the average start of menopause was the 50’s – they predicted that for every year after 25 I didn’t have children …. my chances dropped exponentially. Nice huh?

All I have *EVER* wanted was to be a mom. To have my own children. To share my knowledge, experience the joys and heartaches, to love and raise a child from conception – through birth – and the rest of life. I wanted those late nights. Those random cravings. The tears of frustration when they won’t listen, and the ones of joy because they drew you a picture. I’ve known – that if I did not acomplish any other thing in my life – I would still be complete.

Hearing this news put a giant ticking clock over my head. Half the time of my friends. Twice the chance of failure.( I have miscarried. That is a different story all together. )

I have been told not to worry. That it will happen in time, that I could get invitro or adopt.  That things aren’t as bad as they seem…

But – I have a mental illness. I have been on disability for the last few years. My medications can cause birth defects. I could never afford invitro on the small monthly amount I get. I would not get approved for adoption. Not without a job and probably not with my mental illness.

So I’ve tried. To get pregnant. Since 16 I have tried – sometimes actively (on my part) sometimes not. Always hearing that clock ticking away, faster and faster. There is one crucial part of the equation. I have been lacking though….sex.

It has been a little over two years since I have had sex. Over four since having regular and unprotected sex. Yes – I was in a relationship until this past October.  No that did not mean he would have sex with me. (Again – different story).

So here I am. Turning 27. Two years after my clock sped up to double time. Careerless. A college drop out. Single and on disability.  Celibate by bad luck….and childless.

So yeah, that could explain whats going on. Why I am having such a hard time looking for the good. Why I get angry when I see a parent getting mad at their child – when they are just being a child. Why I don’t want to talk about my life…and what I haven’t acomplished.

I’m crying because every day – a chance of fulfilling my dream of becoming a mother – slips further and further from my grasp. My heart is breaking every time that clock picks up , just a little more speed.

Yeah…..that explains it.


The worst day in months (TRIGGER ALERT)

I cannot be held responsible if reading this post triggers you in any way. After all – I warned you in the title!

Ive been debating back and forth whether or not I would actually write about what happened. I cannot stop going over it in my mind. Maybe writing about it will help.  I wish I could say the emotions are still raw… but well … meds…

First off – I have a horrendous sinus infection thing. It started as a cough, turned into no voice and now that I have my voice back my sinus is so swollen that my head feels like a giant pressurized balloon that is ready to pop.  So please excuse any run-on-sentences, grammatical errors and spelling mistakes that the spell check didn’t get.

This all happened Tuesday night.

The meds I am on seem to have three main side effects for me. Lack of appetite. Weight gain. Numbing of all emotional responses. Well not all. Anxiety and some depression still manage to get through. But no anger, no sadness, no real joy or happiness either – but I figure the numb has to help somewhat. (My previous posts were mostly anxiety driven and a statement of the facts. OK. Maybe my emotions are not as totally shut off as I would like to believe – but seriously – when I am in the situation I turn off and don’t have any response).

During the issues the last little bit – while they are actually happening I don’t actually break down. I don’t get mad. I  don’t really do much but try and not zone out. It is not healthy, but I think it has kept me sane for the most part lately.

Then I got sick.

Tuesday night. I have taken my regular meds, and a dose of NyQuil. I am sick – wanting to sleep and hoping the NyQuil will do its job. Instead I stare at the wall for 2 hours. Wishing to go to sleep. Trying to shut my brain off. Trying not to relive and replay every interaction for the last few months over and over. No go. I just cannot seem to shut off my brain and let the NyQuil do its magic.

That’s when it happens. I start to cry. Just a little bit at first. Small enough that I thought it would pass, I would fall asleep and it would all just be a bad memory in the morning. But something went wrong. I don’t know what thought or memory triggered it – but I just started to sob. Big, horrible, drooling, snot filled sobs. My whole body was heaving with the force of my tears.

It was like every thing i worried about or had been anxious about – decided to come to the surface and demand attention. Every fear. Every argument with J. Every perceived failure, every BPD trigger – EVERYTHING. Nothing seemed to stop it.

I was lost. Overwhelmed by months worth of emotional release I was a mess. I sat on the edge of my bed, rocking myself while I sobbed. Feeling such a sense of loneliness. I had no clue where to turn.

I called J’s cell. Went straight to voice mail.

I started to really freak out and panic. I knew that I wasn’t being logical – things couldn’t really be that overwhelming. I just needed to figure out how to calm down. I tried every trick I could remember from what I had done in the DBT so far. Each thing that didn’t calm me down just made everything worse.

Now I was failing at not only every other thing, but at this – my newest skills set – as well.

I knew talking xanax or something would help. The issue was at this point I didn’t trust myself not to take too many.

I called J again. Voice mail.

I started to look for my cut tool. By this time I was sobbing so uncontrollably that I could barely see and was having trouble breathing. This of course sent my anxiety and meltdown spiraling higher and higher.

I couldn’t find my tool.

I purposefully went into the kitchen and got a paring knife. I dragged it across my leg. Nothing happened. I dug my fingernails into my arms, my thighs, scraping them down  hoping that the non- skin breaking pain would work. The knife still didn’t do more then a few light cuts. Not anything that calmed me, or made the pain better.

I called J again. Voice mail.

By this time it is 230 in the morning. I had been sobbing, spiraling, freaking out for about 2.5 hours. I didn’t know how to stop. I sent J a text that said only one two words. Help me.I then went back into the kitchen and rooted around in the drawer for a better knife. I didn’t trust myself not to cut, slash or maim with a bigger knife. Instead I chose a steak knife. Serrated but still fairly sharp.

I returned to my bedroom and proceeded to slice my leg over and over again. Watching the blood well up was cathartic. It brought me down enough to know that if I didn’t connect with someone I was going to have to call 911. I felt that out of control.

With 30-40 cuts on my leg ranging from long to short, shallow to deep – with bruising and smearing already happening from me punching my leg in despair when a cut didn’t help – I called my mom.

I don’t like to call my mom when I am upset. She gets too emotionally upset because she cannot help. She lives in BC. I live in Saskatchewan. I have no family at all here. The ONLY reason I am in this province, this city is because of J. Yes I have S in Regina – but she would understand if I left.

My mom was my safety. She was able to breach through the fear and panic. It was her voice that helped me put down the knife and stop cutting. Her admissions of her love for me, her unwavering support and repeated chant of “It gets better. I know it sucks right now but it gets better”. The knowledge that she cared and didn’t want to push me away because I was broken in two at the moment helped me pull the pieces back together.

We talked for quite a while. Mostly stuff that was easy to talk about as I slowly stopped crying. Both of us knew if we talked about any of the issues going on it would have set me off again.

She made the suggestion that I play a video game – any game – where I could kill things. Take out my feelings on meaningless pixels. Make sure it was bloody and unmerciful – but to keep playing until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. Use it as a distraction.

I started playing while she was still on the phone and silent tears were still rolling down my face. When we finally decided to stop talking it was with the generalized feeling from my end of “I’m going to hurt these motherfuckers real good”.

I eventually fell asleep around 5 am. The sun was up and every light in my place was on. I made it through the night. I’m still here. Only mildly cut up. Still sicker then a dog.

I think this whole thing has sent me into a manic swing though. I haven’t been sleeping since. Ive spent money I don’t have on junk. I’m binge eating. Yet I cannot bring myself to care too much. I am not headed back down that rabbit hole again.

Good enough for me.

* Side note – J did eventually call. About 3/4 of the way through me talking with my mom. He was very groggy, said his phone wasn’t working right. He asked if I was OK, and why I was having an issue. What had set it off. I told him I was fine and thanks for getting back to me. That things were going to be moderately fine. (all this was said while trying not to let him know I was crying still) He did eventually call though. That counts for something.

** I didn’t tell my mom about cutting, or the knife. I told her about how out of control I felt and how I didn’t trust myself to not take more pills then I needed. I should have told her – but then she probably would have called the hospital… and who would I get to look after my animals if I was in the crazy ward? Honest to god. That was my reasoning for not telling her.

Today – Bank Rant – Money – COFFEE

woke up frustrated and everything kept making it worse…

Apparently I am “always like this” when the bf goes out-of-town ( if I am it is not a conscious decision who choses to be angry/frustrated?). But everything is bugging me. EVERYTHING, weather, clothes, cat …. here is a list of why I am frustrated.

1)It’s not sunny enough outside today. There has been too much rain lately and it makes me depressed.

2) The sun that IS there, is shinning on my computer screen, even with my blinds closed and making it hard for me to see shit.

3) Toast is annoying – she just keeps… being Toast. 😛

4) My pants are sitting funny, they feel weird on my leg.

5) My feet are cold – even with socks and slippers on.

6) I only have 40$ to my name and the bf doesn’t seem too upset – He  is out-of-town so I can’t get stuff I needed to buy this weekend bought – and since I forgot to make a list yesterday when he was here and we went shopping, im SOL.

7) I still haven’t been able to move my couch or lazy boy downstairs. I haven’t had anyone available to help move stuff. The bf has been working lots, and I cannot do it myself as it’s just awkward and there are too many stairs.

8) I cannot finish unpacking the garage until things like the couch and shit get moved and set up. Plus, I need some finishing nails/hammer/screws to steady the bookshelf before I put elephants on it. I forgot to grab some when the bf was here last, and only remembered once he was home again.

9) *edited for personal reasons.*

10)I didn’t get to see the bf before he left this morning. He had to leave earlier then either of us expected, and yes, I probably would have complained if I had been woken up at quarter-after-the-ass-crack-of-dawn to go down the street to get a bagel. THOUGH I might have liked a phone call. I really don’t know what my mindset would have been.

11) I need to cry. That harsh snot filled, chest heaving, stress relieving crying.

As for the money thing – I just can’t get over the idea that me only have $40 – as in not knowing where the extra 300 went!!!! – doesnt bug him and “isn’t something to get stressed over”.

*grumbles and growls*
I do bank online. So technically I would, at any other time be able to check my banking history, and probably not feel so stressed out. BUT…. see.. here is the BIG piss off/frustration:

My bank –(insert bank name here) — will not cash my work cheque without a 10 day hold on it. They tell me my limit is at 0$ and it will be a full year before they will be able to release my full cheque, as I will have to go in, every 4 months for evaluations. Apparently there is not enough activity in my account, as I only get paid once a month by the “job” – and the “job” does not do direct deposit, (With only 12 staff it doesn’t make sense for them, or something like that).

Therefore I have been going to the credit union where the cheque is from – getting them to cash it so that I can go deposit it in my bank. The credit union takes a percentage for cashing it… then I have to bus my way across town with a thousand dollars in cash in my purse to deposit it in my bank – AT a teller.  Of course being that I only get paid second last working day of the month – there is always a lineup as its usually welfare/old age pension/ei or whatever day.

My issue is that they never had a problem with my cheques when I worked on the rigs; even for the tiny companies, and those cheques were a lot more than just a measly (amount here). I don’t want to have to change banks, or open another account at a different bank just to deposit a cheque. Plus im trying to build a rapport with the bank anyways, in case one day in the future I want a loan, or a mortgage or something.

Back to the reason why I am short – this last time – it was a good 2 days before i could get to a bank because  they were closed at the nearest bank. The bf wasnt available to drive me, but told me that I shouldn’t go all the way across town on the bus, with my wallet full of cash. When I did get to the bank to deposit the money, there was 300$ less than what I started with. I have no idea what happened to the rest, I guess it got spent on something. (Wouldn’t it be nice if a person could have like a $1000 buffer in their bank account as a default? All persons got this amount when signing up at a bank?).

If I had deposited it right away I wouldn’t have had the tracking problem – I probably would at lest be less stressed about where the money went, hence the frustration of not getting to the bank right away.

And i am craving coffee. PLUS there is none here. I don’t even have a coffee maker right now.

Coffee is a food group.
unfortunately the bf doesn’t see it that way. He keeps telling me I need to cut back on the amount I drink. I personally think I am doing way better than when I first started drinking coffee. I am only drinking a few cups a day, not a few pots. There is a Starbucks and  a Timmies about a 15 min walk away…
But that costs money.

And I am grumpy.grrr.

Coffee is what stops me from murdering people who annoy  me. ( I don’t think I would latterly murder someone? But it does keep the grumpy down. 🙂 )

anyways that is all for now. I guess I shall get some clothes on or something. Or maybe go get a coffee.. or just go back to bed? BAH!


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