A new day...

     I've been thinking quite a lot lately about perspective.  Someone near and dear to my heart always reminds me that perspective is everything.  I haven't talked to my daughter since Christmas, and my perspective hasn't been all that great.  She is taking some time to let her heart rest, and I need to respect that.  But it still hurts.  My best friend took me to a movie yesterday to help pull me out of this funk.  Have I completely ruined her life? Will she be ok? Schizophrenia is one evil illness, and she and I both can prove it.
     So I must throw myself into other endeavors in order to escape the black hole that is guilt.  Sometimes a light shines down there but not today.  I need to write more and care less.  Music is forever my savior, giving me sonic shapes to fill out the canvas of what's going on in my head.  As long as I keep that perspective with my music, I think I'll be fine.  I want to be able to have a life and not feel guilty for feeling better.  I mean I want to have a life and have her not hate me for doing ok.  Does that make sense?
     Perspective really is everything.  As I find a job, create a schedule and get to work on this music, I hope I remember that.  Shifting my perspective can be so simple.  It just gives me different ways of looking at different things, and in turn I can shift my feelings to fit the new outcome.  I may not be able to do anything about not talking to my daughter but I can change the way I am affected by it.  That's all I can do for now.
     Thanks for reading...
    

A long time coming...

     I realized today that I haven't blogged in quite some time.  So many things have changed in the last six months.  Schizophrenia is no longer the albatross around my neck.  Instead I am reminded daily of how great life is without hallucinating.  It has been around eight months since I've had any psychotic symptoms.  Not only am I feeling better, I haven't been on a therapeutic dose of an anti-psychotic drug the entire time.  The question begs to be be asked....am I better?? Fortunately, I don't have the time or the energy to go there.  Instead I enjoy each day symptom-free. 
     Since my last entry I've moved to Chattanooga.  It's been great to finally be back home.  I've gotten to reconnect with old friends and make new ones.  I have visited places here that I'd only seen from a distance.  Music dictates most days and is a huge part of life again.  I moved in with my best friend and his mother.  They have the hugest of hearts and I am eternally grateful for their hospitality.  They helped me get back on my feet, find a doctor, and eventually find a place to live.  I am now in my own place, paying rent and am sharing space with a wonderful lady. 
     In short, life is great.  My perspective on life has changed completely.  The hopelessness is gone for a while at least.  Thanks for reading...

today's one of those days

I can't stand today.  I really can't.  I feel suicidal and severely depressed.  I wish I had the balls to do it, but I don't.  So you don't need to call my parents or anything.  I'll still be alive at least a year or so lol.  My money is all screwed up, I don't have enough for rent, my brother hates me and doesn't want to spend any time on me, my daughter is better off without me, apparently, and my parents won't get involved on any level.  That's why I hate today.  I hate it when I feel like this.  All I've done all day is lie in my dark room and stare at the wall.  It usually helps to blog, but so far I'm having a hard time seeing the screen for the tears.  When does it get better? When do I not feel like shit about my life? There's no cure for this stupid mental illness, and there's no cure for my brother's hatred.  I'm sick of being told to pray about it.  I pray, and nothing comes. I feel completely alone in this.  It's like I told my brother, I'm completely alone...I don't even have  my damn dog here! And yet I'm expected to just get over everything and smile.  Well, I can't do it.  I've tried, and it just made me cry harder.  Life sucks right now, and I don't know why.  Did I do something wrong to deserve all of this? Who will ever know.  I'm tired of feeling like God's guinea pig.  I hope whoever's reading this is doing better than I am.  There's no need for us all to be this screwed up.  thanks for reading

A change of heart...

This is probably a bit overdue, but I somewhat better news than I had in my last posting.  I "talked" to my brother via text messages.  I realized that the reason it's so hard to get difficult news from him is because he doesn't talk to me unless he has bad news to deliver.  His overall disinterest in me, in and of itself, is painful enough.  Then knowing that the only reason he wants to talk to me is to give me bad news.  It was more than I could bear, and definitely explains why I go from 0 to 100 when he gives me such painful news.  It would be just as painful without the lack of real relationship, but is even more so because he doesn't talk to me otherwise.  I brought this to his attention, and he said he would work on it.  That's really all I can ask for.  I know he's not perfect, but it's so hard feeling like he doesn't care in general, and only wants to talk to me when he gets to hurt me.  He and I used to be semi-close, but that hasn't been the case for several years now.  He feels that my feelings about missing my daughter are in response to the past, and that regardless of how they feel or how I feel, they're in the present right now and won't dwell on my feelings of the past.  I completely disagree with this, and generally don't agree with the way they've handled this, making her the only one to consider.  I struggle with this.  I know that as a parent, you have to put your child first no matter what.  At the same time, don't my hurt feelings count for anything? Doesn't it matter that I'm lonely as hell and am in excruciating pain? He doesn't treat me like a sister anymore.  I am basically a birth mother, and that's it.  Yea, I'm supposed to be "aunt" now, but I think that's bullshit.  Even she identifies me as her birth mother.  I guess I feel like the past 7 years have been completely discounted, they don't matter, and the feelings that go along with losing that mean nothing.  All I can do is go along with what they want in order to not have contact cut off completely.  It's like he holds that over my head...do this, or you won't get to talk to her...do that, or you won't get to talk to her.  That's how it's become.  I hate it desperately.  I felt better about it the other day, but the more I've thought about it, I think it's wrong.  But does that matter? Not at all.  I'm trying to use this shitty situation to learn something.  Is it patience? Is it just trusting that Jesus somehow is going to make some sense out of this?I really don't have a clue.  It's hard to feel or be optimistic about it when I am discounted in such a way.  If you think of me, pray.  If you don't pray, send positive and calming thoughts my way.  I can use all I can get these days.  Thanks so much for reading.

not a good day...

So I've been asked to make another heart-wrenching change.  My brother and I talked yesterday.  The only time he talks to me is if he needs something, and that something usually means that I have to make another step away from my daughter.  This time, he asked that I erase all pictures of her from my facebook page, quit referring to her as "my daughter", and allow her to call me "aunt Jenny" instead of Lucy.  I have, to date, done everything they have asked me to do.  I've relinquished my rights, I've given up being called 'mommy', I've quit hugging her too much and talking to her.  Now I'm supposed to answer to "aunt" instead of Lucy.  It's amazingly hurtful not just because of the requests.  It's crazy hard to heal this wound because the only time my brother even thinks of talking to me, it's when he plans on pushing the knife a little further through my heart.  I told him that I didn't feel comfortable with that.  He proceeded to send my parents a text stating that since my name isn't on the birth certificate, legally she's not my daughter.  As if a damn piece of paper can override seven full years of my life as a mom.  Then he went on to say that they would cut off all contact if I chose not to cooperate.  I am in hell right now.  I don't know how to get out.  I try to pray, but I feel like my prayers hit the ceiling.  How they can be so cold-hearted, I don't know.  My daughter's biological father found my sister-in-law's fb page, and now they're blaming that on me as well. I don't mean to sit here and play victim, but this really is what has happened in the last 24 hours.  I want to scream out of pain.  I want to kill my brother, and really have nothing to say to my sister-in-law.  I miss my daughter like I'd miss my right arm, were it gone as well.  He doesn't even care.  I guess it's that much tougher, too, because he doesn't even validate me in what I'm feeling.  My texts go unanswered except for one...he must have had a momentary lapse of kindness.  I wish things weren't the way they are.  I wish he cared for me, but I have to give that up.  He cares about his wife and his kids.  I don't  understand and honestly I'm pretty pissed at God.  I trusted my brother with my heart only to be sorely let down.  I won't make that mistake again.

today.....ugh!!!!

     Today has been one of the toughest days I've had since I've been in the group home.  The thing is that nothing's changed.  I can't stop crying.  I have this deep sense of hopelessness, but nothing's happened.  I think I'm realizing that I'm really here and I'm not going anywhere for a while.  The comic relief here is definitely found at others' expense.  Like today, I got to see dumb and dumber try to sweep and mop their floor.  They're the two sickest guys here guess you'd say, but they're clueless and definitely weird. Having mental illness myself, I feel like it's ok to pick on them a little bit.  it's a little like dealing with 5 year olds.  But they're the happiest people here, and I'm the one crying in the corner.  I even started crying when one of my pigtails (I'm growing my hair out) was out of place! Some would say that it's hormones, but I wouldn't know.  I had to have a hysterectomy 5 years ago, and don't know if I'm 'hormonal' or not....I think being able to blame your actions on a temporary hormone imbalance is a bit overrated and overdone.  None the less, today is a really hard day.  I'm homesick...I miss Agnes and I miss my daughter.  I miss being able to keep things in perspective.  I'm not going to be here any longer than a year, thank GOD, and it really could be a lot worse.  I try to keep that in mind as I'm typing with tears streaming down my face.  Sometimes the reality of my life really hits me.  I had such great things I was going to do with this life I've been given.  Where did it all go? Maybe it'll be better tomorrow.  Thanks -

Sunday musings...

     So, it's Sunday again.  Sunday has always been a conspicuous day for me.  It's hard for me to enjoy it because it's always a reminder that the next day is Monday, and I don't like Mondays.  I realize that I do this in a lot of other areas of my life.  It's kind of like the last day of vacation: it's hard to stay relaxed because  you know that it will all be over tomorrow.  I wish I could take things one day at a time instead of projecting into the future.  I have a therapist here at the group home.  I asked her Friday how long she thought I'd be here.  She said it would be a year, tops.  Now some people might be encouraged by this news, seeing as how the average length of stay is around two years.  But I, of course, threw a fit internally.  I want to leave today.  I don't want to have to wake up before the crack of dawn to have my breakfast and take my medication.  I want to live in a place where I can make it to the YMCA and swim if I so wish.  I don't want to live with eight other people who are as crazy, if not crazier, than I am.  I know that God has me here for a reason.  I've been able to kind of accept this.  My mom said that the reason might be that these people here need me.  Instead of taking that on, I decided that I didn't want the responsibility. How selfish is that? I want to be responsible for myself alone, and let them live their lives the way they want.  Life here gets really lonely.  Maybe I should remember that when I say I don't want to be responsible for anyone else.  I am, truthfully, the highest-functioning sick person here.  Granted, I've been fortunate to have had a lot more beneficial therapy and treatment than they have, simply because of socio-economic differences.  In other words, my parents saw to it that I received the best treatment.  For that, I am eternally grateful.  Today I'm going to work on getting out of myself and trying to be there for other people.  Maybe it'll make the time go by more quickly.  Who knows?? Maybe I won't feel so lonely.  Thanks for reading :)