Dear Depression: You Can Leave Now.

Depression takes a lot out of you. Not just emotionally, but physically. My eyes are literally trying to close on me as I type this, but I need to get it done for my own sake. I've really been battling depression for a couple of weeks now. Like, the low kind that comes from bipolar disorder. Yes, there really is a difference. I'm tired and frustrated, and discouraged, because of the physical struggles I am going through. The possibility of cancer returning does scare me.  The fact that my CEA cancer tumor marker level is elevated does make me angry. The simple truth that I don't have enough financially yet to make it to that next specialist appointment (and struggling to keep a roof over my head simultaneously) does cause me to just sit and stare at walls for hours on end sometimes.

Mostly, I just concentrate on breathing. I know that sounds a little weird, but I feel like if I DON'T concentrate on breathing sometimes, I might just stop altogether. Not intentionally, of course. No ideations here. Just exhaustion. Pure, total exhaustion.

I've definitely been crying more than usual, which actually makes me cry even more, because I hate that I'm crying so much in the first place. What a silly little vicious cycle I put myself through, albeit not on purpose. Depression is like floating in the water, just beneath the surface, and while you are there, holding your breath, you can see everyone else just above the water, walking, talking, breathing, smiling, laughing, moving.. and you can't move at all. You are in a completely different world, and though you aren't physically drowning, you feel like your mind is. You choke, spit out metaphorical water in your mind, gasp for air. You have that special kind of hearing that only occurs while under water, like you are in a tunnel and everything around you is just a muffled echo. You know that the sounds you hear should mean something, something you can make sense of, but none of it makes any sense at all.

This is where my mind falls apart. It goes from a whole brain of depression and just explodes, and all the little pieces go in every opposite direction you could possible imagine.  Thoughts are too many, too deep, and unwanted.  I struggle to pull it all back together, but the more I fight, the faster the pieces of my brain spin, like little spin tops set into motion on a thin sheet of glass. The fight is in me, it's just sleeping. Much like I should be right now.

That's what I'm going to do. Get some sleep. Worrying is getting me nowhere. Fear is a prison. Living is a decision I've already made to do. Dreaming is hoped for. Sucking is optional.

Don't suck. Just be Batman.

(yes, this is my arm... after back flow from an IV infiltration during hospitalization. #staystrong)

Dear Body, Mind, and Soul: (Sometimes In The Third Person)

I love you, so why are you fighting me right now?

I've taken care of you physically. I drink a lot of water; way more than I ever did before. I eat much better as far as food choices go. I do my best to completely stay away from processed foods and would much rather cook my own meals from scratch, with lots of veggies. I love fruit, too. I love Paleo. I try to base my diet on it whenever possible. Organic is amazing. I never thought I'd say that, but I'm loving eating natural, and even spending the little extra when I can to get farm-raised or grass fed meat. I will probably never not eat meat, so deal with it. I very rarely drink soda anymore. Fast food is practically obsolete, aside from the occasional Chick-Fil-A sandwich or extremely rare burger from Five Guys, because I'm an addict and there should be a 12-step program for both Chick-Fil-A and Five Guys. I even drink Almond Milk in place of dairy now. If someone had said that I'd do that a year ago, I probably would have thrown up in my mouth a little. I'm doing the best I can. Overall, I can honestly say I have that sense of "health" that I didn't have before beginning to change the way I eat. I'm also beginning to get back on track with exercise, too. I miss dancing, but at least my walking is becoming more frequent, and the more frequent it becomes, the longer I walk. Yet still, I'm so fatigued. My GI system is beginning to yell at me a little again, as if to say, "Remember me? Yep, I can still f&#$ you up! You can run, but you can't hide, little girl." Screw you, GI system. I'd beat you with a stick if you weren't part of my actual body. My lymph node reminds me daily that I might have something substantial to worry about. It teases me, whispering "You're so screwed. You can't get me biopsied so you don't even know what's in here. I might be wreaking all this havoc and you don't have a clue!" Whatevs, lymph node. I curse thee. My throat has been hurting for about 48 hours now. That's new, and when I say new, I mean literally 100% new since I was 9 years old new. The last time I had a severe sore throat was when I had excruciating tonsillitis as a child and subsequently had my tonsils removed when I was 9. I NEVER get a sore throat. I've never even had Strep throat. It's weird. The slight cough does not help much, which is also weird. Then, today I woke up with the worst headache I've had in a really long time. It took 6 Excedrin to even get it slightly under control. I'm pretty sure I shouldn't take that much. But, my head. It was yelling at me so loudly, I couldn't even understand what it was saying. Shut up, head. Calm down, throat. I've been so good to you, and this is how you repay me.

Mentally, I keep you in check. I try, anyway. I give you the medication you are supposed to have to stabilize you, yet you still insist on going nuts on me sometimes. Actually, that infers I'm crazy, which I'm not. Okay, I am. Not. Whatever.

I do realize you aren't getting ALL your medication right now or the complete rest that you need, but do you really have to go into overdrive at the moment? Do you have to be repetitive in your incessant silent questioning of everything and everyone around? Obsessive, even? Worry much? Pfffffft. Did I say obsessive? Oh yes, I see it now. I said it. Typed it. Lalalalalala. O.o

You are beginning to tell me lies again: That life isn't worth it. The pain is more than you can bear. I am a burden to everyone I come across. I'm getting fat again or still need to lose at least 20 more pounds. I'm too screwed up to ever allow someone to love me; besides, I'll never trust anyone EVER anyway. I'm not lovable. What's love got to do with it, got to do with it?  I'm going to fail. I'm totally about to be homeless again. I have cancer again or any other horrible diagnosis I could possibly come up with right now. FEAR. Anxiety. BLAH. B-kawk.

You are thinking way too much and forgetting that thoughts are the first step to just about everything in life, and will dictate whatever comes after a thought if you let it. Medication or not. You are not letting go of the person who hurt you completely, because you are being completely idiotic. You aren't cooperating when I talk back to you and tell you that everything is going to be just fine; eventually. It will totally help once you get all of your belongings out of narcissist #2's "house," but until then you really just need to chill out. As the memes and t-shirts say, KEEP CALM. (laughing out loud)

Spiritually, do I not feed you? I pray every day. I have faith. I believe in God and know who He is to me, and better still, what He has done for me. I read my scripture every morning and journal my devotions, just like I journal my life. I get my worship on, turn my music up, and totally live in abandon for those moments when it's just me and God. No distractions. Music.. the one thing that helps eliminate outside distractions when trying to talk to God, because for me, music itself is never a distraction. So why do you still feel a little lost? Unheard? Forgotten, even? You know it's not true. You know you are nourished; are you just refusing to absorb. Is it because you've missed so many Friday's of Celebrate Recovery at church in a row now that you are beginning to feel detached? I'm not going to give up on you. I'm not going to stop what I'm doing. To completely lose my faith would be to completely sink a floating ship.

My head. If it would just stop pounding. Maybe I could think more clearly. I need anesthetic. Nothing is helping me.

This post is so jumbled, yet organized at the same time. I'm not going to proofread it, either. My body is protesting against me and I just don't have the energy for editing. For me to say that, actually says quite a lot.

Some pictures from the visit with my 18-year-old daughter I just talked about. She convinced me to let her twist my hair up in paper towel strips and let my hair dry like that... anything to make my kids happy, no matter how old we get! Then she let me do a new hairstyle on her. <3

Hope VS No Hope.

This might end up long. Then again, it might not. Honestly, I'm writing on a whim, so I really don't know. I didn't write at all on my 'vacation,' so I could concentrate on what could possibly be the only opportunity I had to do certain things with two of my children and have certain experiences. But now... I need to write.  I need to get it all out. The problem is... my words are gone. I feel so lost. So overwhelmed. So desolate, when just 24 hours ago I was still elated. How emotions can change in 24 hours. Welcome to the world of bipolar. I have come crashing down. I'm not ashamed to say so.

Before I go on with that, I do want to share some of the experiences and moments my son, daughter, and I had over the last 10 days. I always need to balance out my life, the good vs the bad. The last week and a half was definitely good. It was more than good. It was the most I have smiled in probably 10 years.  God gave me back a little piece of my life for a short time. Now I'm going to share it with you.

Most people come to Florida for vacation; we left it to go up north. Leaving the heat for a while was extraordinary.

We started in Maine.

Marginal Way; Ogunquit, ME:

Just me:

My son, Aspen:

My daughter, Andrea:

Then we had some time in New Hampshire.

Amazing Concerts/The Soulfest; Gilford, NH:

New experiences; Gunstock Mountain Resort:

Beautiful scenery:

Eventually, New York City. Somewhere I never thought I'd have a chance to go.

View from Central Park:

Time Square:

Then we made the long, rainy, treacherous, drive back to Florida.

I took the kids to their dad's.

And here I am.

The trip was amazing. I could write for days and days about our adventures, and I'm sure I will write about them, one by one. But, tonight... tonight my future is weighing on my mind. Or lack thereof. That looks in black-and-white as pathetic as it would have sounded if I'd said it out loud. "Or lack thereof." Really? How depressing. It's just how I feel. I'm depressed. I freely admit it. Bipolar roller coaster going down! Don't know how many loops are on the ride or how fast it will go, but it's definitely rolling along the tracks. Is it just a crash after having a wonderful time with my kids? Has a dam broken apart that has been holding it all behind bricks this whole time, just waiting to be set free in rolling, thrashing waves? Am I finally REALLY allowing myself to feel the weight of the world on my shoulders and firm reality for what it really is?

I'm angry. Hurt. Sad. Afraid. Unsure. Discouraged. Resentful and bitter, even. All things I need to get rid of, let go of.

Hopeful and hopeless at the same time; so contradictory. 

I am, indeed, a walking contradiction. After all, I have bipolar disorder. 

I sit here on my mattress, once again. I look around me, and I see the dog cage and the front door to a house that is not mine, to the left. I see a book case directly in front of me as I lean against the wall behind me and prop my feet up on the little pink flower box I have sitting on the floor just beside my twin mattress. To the right is the chair I sit in when I work, with the little white table that usually holds my laptop, what seems like a thousand blue Post-It notes, my anxiety medication, and empty Coke bottle with my daughter's name on it, my camera, and a frame that I have stuck pictures into the corners of to remind me every night that I have to keep fighting. I have to try and stay alive. Beyond that little table is another wall, my clothes, and a few other belongings; and that's it. This is what is "my space" right now, and I can't even really call it that. It's the front hallway of someone's house. This is where I "live." This is where I take up space. 

I am still essentially homeless. I may not be sleeping under a tree again or in my van -I don't have a vehicle anymore- but I am still homeless. Don't ever tell me that just because I have a corner to sleep in under a roof that I'm not homeless. I am. You'll never understand and you have no right to judge me or make any such conclusions unless you've been through everything I've been through. I AM THANKFUL FOR MY MATTRESS. I've said it before, and it remains true. I really am thankful. Yet fear is so powerful. Fear tells me I could be sleeping outside at any moment. Fear tells me it's happened before, it can happen again. Fear tells me that I should have known better than to trust someone and get comfortable in a home for 3 years, thinking I would never have to worry about being homeless again, and just like that, overnight... literally... I am.  YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER IS unless you have it. 

I have it. And I'm feeling the weight of it. Combine it with my bipolar disorder and the depression part coming on, and I'm turning into a very large ball of tangled string and I can't find the end of the string. Even if I could find it, I'm afraid if I began to pull it would only knot further.

"You have so much to be thankful for." I'm aware of my blessings, thank you. I do count them. But don't; please just don't say that to me. You don't know what I feel like inside. You don't know the frustration of feeling like you are running in place. Yes, I took my vacation with my kids, and I've already explained that it was mostly paid for before I became homeless again, and that it was an opportunity that I was not willing to pass up. Again, do not judge my decisions unless you fully understand the reasons behind them. If you were me, you would have gone, too. I can promise you that. My priorities are straight. Taking that vacation didn't chance a thing about my situation. It gave me a chance to breathe for a little bit and be with the ones I love the most in this world. It gave me a reason to smile and laugh for a little while. 

It made me feel like my life was normal again. I was a mom, with my children, doing stuff that families do. I put aside my worries for 10 days, and if people want to hate me for that, by all means.. HATE ME. But it won't change a single thing.

I am back. Back to working my butt off as of tonight. Starting from scratch. I don't think people realize that I've lost everything in my life, except that... my life. Even that's been close; unintentionally and intentionally. I can't help but think if I were walking one night and went to cross a busy intersection, and just kept walking, right into oncoming traffic, if anyone would notice. Would they see me step out? Would they brake? Would they just keep going? Would anyone be called? Would they even care? My struggle has been so long and the light seems so far, there are some nights, like tonight, where I do not feel like I have the strength to even care, myself. I have an ex-fiance who kicked me out of a house while I was laying in a hospital bed, because he "needs to prove to himself he can be alone" BUT "still loves me." [That's not love. My opinion.] I have 4 children, but only 2 of them talk to me. The other 2 pretend I don't exist. If you aren't a parent, you wouldn't understand that pain. If you are, you just might "get it." I have no home. I have no transportation. I have no family here, except for a sister that has her own life to deal with and struggles to face. I love her dearly and it isn't her fault we can't spend more time together.

What frustrates me the most right now is the people who made promises that they would help; they haven't. I don't feel entitled. Please don't get me wrong. As I have said, the world owes me nothing. However, promises mean something to me. If you tell me you are going to do something, you should either do it, or should have never said it to begin with. You don't understand what that does to people who suffer from the illnesses and struggles that I do. You don't realize it is enough to CRUSH me when that promise is broken. Whether it's something as simple as saying you will share my fundrazr website so more people can see a brief part of my story and decide whether they want to help or not, or whether it's something more complex or meeting a specific need. I have no expectations; unless you make me a promise. How is it wrong to expect someone to keep their promise(s) or their word? It isn't wrong. This world is just so stupid now that promises mean jack to most people and integrity has been all but lost.

I'm not only homeless. I'm sick. I'm tired. I have a lymph node that has needed a biopsy for longer than I care to mention now. I don't even know if it's related to possible returning cancer or if I just have some sort of autoimmune disease, or maybe an infection. I'm not sure I care anymore. THAT'S HOW TIRED I AM.

I'm so tired that I fall asleep in the middle of work, or during the day. I work from my laptop as a medical transcriptionist, and I get paid by production. Anyone with a mental health disorder can tell you how hard it is to concentrate. Anyone with depression can tell you how hard it is to care. Anyone with an autoimmune disorder or physical illness that deals with fatigue can tell you how hard it is to stay awake. Try combining all of it with the worry that you aren't going to make enough money because you get paid by how much you work to EVER be able to get transportation so you can help your 18-year-old daughter who was born legally blind and desperately wants to be with you more, or EVER be able to save enough just to have the deposits and first and last months rent and money to get started over again even though you know once you are finally in a place you will be able to support yourself, or EVER be able to go to the freaking doctor and get the medical care you need so you can stop feeling so tired and in pain, and just maybe feel like you have quality of life again. TRY STARTING OVER AGAIN AND SEE HOW HARD IT IS JUST TO START.

I hate asking for help. I'm not good at it. I never used to be good at sharing, either, but I stopped caring what others thought of me, so here I am.. sharing my heart out, even though the above probably has tons of horrible typos, grammatical errors, pitiful crappiness, and tiredness written in the stars.

You don't have to help me. You really don't. You can read this and just close your browser. And that's fine with me, because you never promised you'd share. The link to my fundrazr site is RIGHT HERE - JUST CLICK ME. If you do want to share it, awesome. I will be adding a video to it at some point tonight. I also won't be asking for help again. It's the last time I'll be posting the link, so no worries. I'm not going to turn into a beggar; but someone told me recently that I don't reach out enough. So, that's what I'm doing. I'm showing you my reality as of this very moment, and I'm reaching out. And I'm letting you know that despite my past mistakes, I did not ask for this in my life right now; I'm not homeless through fault of my own this time; I'm not asking to be supported for the rest of my life. I'm asking for help starting over. I have hope there are good souls still out there, who like to see people have another chance at life. I feel hopeless right now because I feel alone. The two don't go together, but at the same time they do. I'm a firm believer of paying it forward. That's exactly what I plan to do; because I know that the day will come when I'm in a position to do so. 

I'm at a standstill. A hump, if you will. This is my transparency. Pray for me. Send positive thoughts. Give a little, give a lot. Whatever it is, just do it from your heart. True love is all I ask for.

Signing off.... with hopeless hope.

My Happy Thoughts.

I've had such a rough couple of weeks that seem to only be going downhill, as far as the way I physically feel, I thought I would be proactive in trying to remain positive by making a list of things that make me happy, things I love, and things that bring a smile to my face.  I've been so exhausted, thinking it's just because I've been working a whole lot and life has been stressful. But, unfortunately, when combined with a few other things that are going on physically (everything minor by themselves, but as a whole creates a completely different and unexpected picture), it's much more than just simple exhaustion.  I refuse to give up, to stop moving; I refuse to completely give in to the tiredness. There are always things that will bring me joy or just make me close my eyes and take me to another place.

• The sound of the ocean waves crashing and smelling the saltwater in the breeze.
• Compassion.
• The number 7.
• The smell of fried chicken cooking.
• Coffee. <3
• Being able to breathe deeply.
• Hearing my children laugh.
• Listening to music.
• Playing the piano.
• The color blue.
• Painting my nails.
• Writing long letters to people I love.
• Reading books while cuddled in a warm blanket.
• Sitting by a fire on a cold night.
• Helping someone in need.
• Road trips.
• Talking to my mom.
• Singing.
• Making sure other people know that they aren't alone in this world.
• Creating a piece of art.
• Restoring old furniture.
• Going through picture albums.
• Photography.
• Taking hikes through the woods.
• Camping.
• Canoeing down a river.
• Riding a horse.
• Tattoos.
• Eating mint ice cream with just a hint of chocolate.
• Making dinner from scratch.
• Curling up with my cat and napping.
• Watching movies all day.
• Playing with my daughters hair.
• Bringing awareness to mental health and suicide prevention.
• Telling someone "I love you."
• Cool gusts of air on a hot day.
• Roller coasters.
• Disney World.
• Window shopping.
• Going to places I have never been before.
• Meaningful hugs.
• Fresh fruit.
• A nice fitting pair of blue jeans.
• Camo.
• Cowboy boots.
• Hats and scarves.
• A thousand pair of earrings.
• Random acts of kindness.

If you want to help me get through some of life's obstacles, and read about what you'd be helping exactly, even if it's just a little bit... this link will lead you to the information. <3