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 :)

Today

Today has been a rough one.  Nothing in particular has happened, but with me nothing has to happen in order to have a bad day.  I think I'm realizing that I really am in this group home in east Jesus nowhere, and my "friends" are just as unstable as I am, if not more.  I'm extremely lonely and keep to myself.  My phone card ran out and I don't have any money to buy another one.  So, there's no real face to face contact, and no phone contact.  I don't say any of this in order to receive a pity party.  I'm just explaining why things are hard at the moment.  I'm back in school, which is a huge highlight in my day to day life.  I  love to learn and love to study (I never said I wasn't a dork). I guess I wish this could all happen on my terms.  I wish life would happen on my terms.  So much of the time I don't like the way God does things.  It's either too late, or too early, not good enough, or too hard.  But I'm realizing that it's not so much God as it is my hard-headedness.  If I were more submissive, let's say, maybe I wouldn't have so many difficulties.  Who knows??  I am the way I am, and I'm workin' on it.  Hopefully things will improve.  Until then, I'll probably stalk people on facebook, watch movies, and eat trail mix with Gatorade. Have a good night all.

I'm back...

     It's officially been forever since I last blogged.  These past few months have been painfully difficult, but I'm still going strong.  I live in a group home now with 8 other mentally ill people.  It's kind of like being in a hospital, but without the locked doors and the confinement that usually comes with being hospitalized.  I'm getting used to it.  It's definitely not a "homey" place, but it's home for now.  I get to go home whenever I wish. Unlike most of the others, I have my own room and bathroom, and for that, I am thankful.  I decided that I wanted to go back to school, and I start online classes tonight.  Honestly, I'm doing really well.  I'm in a place of acceptance about the adoption.  I got to see my daughter this past weekend.  She's gotten soooo big, I can't believe it! She is so precious and is doing really well.  My entire family got together at my parents' house for 2 days.  I love my family.  I'm also keenly aware that without them, I'd probably be on the street somewhere....they have given me so much love and support.  Agnes is doing well.  She has a new hair-do...mom and dad had her shaved for the summer...apparently she was a little embarrassed about being bald lol...she still looks cute.  I think I'll try to write here every day...it gives me a much-needed outlet.  Thank you to all who have stuck with me...I love you all!

How stupid I can be...

     Well, the night before Christmas eve, I decided to overdose on my medication.  I was in so much emotional pain and felt so alone.  It's amazing the lies that take over when you're in such a state.  So, the next  morning, my parents came to the house and tried to get me to answer.  I could barely stand up, and felt like I was gonna puke.  I finally made my way to the front door and was greeted with 2 incredibly worried parents.  They took me directly to the hospital emergency room.  I couldn't really stand up by myself and couldn't talk....everything I said made no sense what so ever.  They took me up to the Medical intensive care unit and had a sitter stay with me at all times as a suicide watch precaution.  I kept hallucinating more than normal.  I was so frustrated.  When I overdosed, it wasn't to take my life.  Instead, I just wanted to sleep longer than normal.  Instead, I ended up staying in the hospital over Christmas.  The doctor let me go under my parents' supervision.  If you want to feel helpless and frustrated at the age of 33, just overdose and then have your parents take care of you.  I'm ready to go home.  At the same time, I know they didn't ask for any of this.  It's enough that they have to drive me wherever I need to go.  I really feel bad for them.  None of this was their fault, and yet they're having to bear the brunt of my stupid actions.  I go to one of the doctors tomorrow morning.  I'm hoping that visit goes well. 
      Basically, I feel like an idiot.  Hind sight's always 20/20, yet I wish I'd not been in such a bad space that I would take that much medication.  Like I said, I felt really alone, and was missing my daughter something awful.  She doesn't want to talk to me right now because it's too hard for her.  So, I don't know when I'll get to talk to her again.  That alone is enough to break my heart.  I know I have to do what's best for her, so my hands are tied.  I didn't think that giving her up would entail such heartbreaking things such as having no contact, and her not calling me mommy anymore.  I have to trust that I made the right decision, but that's a moment by moment thing.  People always talk about taking things one day at a time...I'm having to take things moment by moment right now.  Since the overdose, I've realized exactly how many people love me and care about me.  When this was all going on, all I could think was that everyone would probably be better off without me.  I deliberately didn't take enough meds to commit suicide.  I just wanted to check out for a bit.  I used to think that life was supposed to be easy.  Now I realize that life is really hard, and you're lucky if you get to have a few easy spots.  I'm trying to wrap my brain around it, still, but I'm coming along pretty well.  Like my dad says,"life sucks then you die".  He means it as a joke most of the time, but I think it's true, at least right now. But maybe if we all help each other out, it won't be so bad.  Who knows?!  I hope you all had a good holiday.  After all, holidays are just normal days that have been made special by someone else in order to have a celebration.  I vow never to overdose again.  I hope you will too.  Thanks for reading.

Love to all...

Thank you to those who have tried to help me through all this.  It will be over soon, I've decided.  I think that I cause too many problems for people, and I hate that.  Anyway, just wanted to say thanks for reading.

Please let Christmas be over...

     I've done my fair share of going out in the crowd all in the name of Christmas.  I'm not a holiday person.  Especially after learning in a non-so-loving way that my conversations with my daughter are about to come to an end.  What a great thing to learn.  This whole situation sucks.  The conversations are making her revert to old behavior, so it's best for her for us not to talk right now.  I wish that understanding completely over-laid the awful emotions that come with it.  I've never hurt like this before in my life. Hopefully everybody else will have a good holiday.  This one's not gonna be that great over here, but at least I know it.  It's better to know than to go into it clueless.  Take care everybody...

Hard Times...

     It's Christmas again.  I used to hate this time of year until I had my daughter.  Then, watching her delight at Christmas totally changed it for me.  I couldn't wait to watch her get excited about Christmas and Santa and giving Jesus a gift for Christmas, a tradition my family has taken on since I was a child.  I used to love Christmas.
     Now I don't like Christmas so much.  It's not that I don't like it, but I hate the way my Christmas has changed this year.  Not having my daughter has changed absolutely every inch of my being.  And it's changed Christmas.  I don't have her to watch the Charlie Brown's Christmas, so I leave my tv off instead of trying to myself get through yet another Christmas special where everybody makes it out ok and is really happy.  I should be happy...it's a happy time of year.  I try not to beat myself up for having a rough time, but it's hard sometimes.  I think that I should be fine since I take the lifetime supply of psychotrophic medication...ya know?  Oh well....another day, another time, right?
     I'm going to bed.  I hope you all have a good night.  Sleeping is my friend at this point. Thanks for reading

I just called to say I love you....

     Just kidding...I didn't really call to say "I love you"....I've been obsessed with the movie 'High Fidelity' as of late, and there's a joke about that record in it.  I've been making Christmas presents today.  I hate it that the spirit of the holiday is supposed to be love and joy and all that kind of stuff, when really you end up busting your ass trying to make everything perfect.   My dad put my Christmas tree up for me, and for the first time I like having a tree up.  It makes me think of my daughter.  Sometimes it's a sad memory and sometimes it makes me smile.  I had to go through the Christmas ornaments and give my daughter's to her new mom since she has her very own big girl Christmas tree.  That is one of the hardest things I've ever done.  I really didn't think it was going to be a big deal, but it was.  It amazes me sometimes the things that really upset me about this whole situation....things that I normally wouldn't get upset about and feelings that I didn't expect to come to the surface so easily. She loves Christmas, or at least she used to. On one hand, I'm grateful that she misses me and feels a bit out of balance.  On the other hand, it breaks my heart to see her heart broken.  She's so  much better about keeping a happy face on than I am.  I cry entirely too easily these days, and sometimes think that I feel things a little too deeply.  I'm glad that I have the capability to feel a myriad of emotions...I just wish that I could pick and choose what I feel and when I'm going to feel it.  But don't we all? 
     I know someone who is in severe pain but hasn't a clue that he feels that way.  He tries to hide it with humor, and sometimes it's almost painful to watch.  I just want to say, "it's ok...you don't have to pretend that everything's ok", but I don't.  He's a grown man and it's not my place to go there.  So, I back off and let him do his thing.  Maybe I'm keenly aware of his pain because of my own.  We have different stories, but very similar pain. I think we're all hurting in some way.  Most of us try to do something to cover it up.  I know I do...I'm technologically retarded, but I've gotten so into tech stuff, trying to occupy my mind and time with something other than thinking about everything that's really going on with me.  What do you use? Is it work? Or food or relationships? We all have something...I'm sure of it. 
     I have to tell you about a book that I downloaded (yes, I'm a dork) on my Nook thingy.  It's about the "bad" women of the Bible.  I love it.  Even God uses people like me - the bad Christian who cusses at any given chance and occasionally participates in illegal activity lol.  In learning about the Bible growing up, I always heard about the women who seemed perfect and normal and beautiful and all that.  I never identified with them worth crap and thought that I had to be like that in order to be loved.  So, I gave up trying at a pretty early age.  After all, I am your classic preacher's daughter - and the worst kind at that.  My family still jokes about how I turned into hell on wheels when I turned 16....I was awful! Why I'm going into all of this, I'm not quite sure.  I think I just want to communicate that you don't have to be perfect and all together in order to be of help to others or to be loved.  We were all made to be who we are for a reason.  I have mental illness and everything else for a reason.  What that reason is I haven't the first clue, but at least now I know that there is a reason.  And knowing is half the battle, to quote GI Joe lol. 
     So, this holiday season I want to allow myself to feel what I feel...even when it's inconvenient and hurts like hell.  I don't want to feel frantic about making sure that everybody is going to like what I've made them.  If they don't like it, tough shit....I've put a lot of thought, time and love into every single thing I've done.  I hope that this season, where the malls are packed with rats and frenzied shoppers, that you're able to sit back and get in touch with what's going on with you, whatever that looks like for you.  For me, it's sitting in the dark listening to Buddy and Julie Miller or David Gray, letting whatever feelings I have come up and hit me out of nowhere.  I hope you can find something that works, too.  Thanks for reading.

Another Day...

     I went to the doctor today.  My psychiatrist, that is.  She's wonderful.  She's been practicing over 50 years and really knows her stuff.  It's great to be with a doctor who tells me what to do instead of asking me what I think needs to be changed.  Isn't that what you pay the doc for? To tell you what to do? Yes. So I look forward to seeing her.  She always knows what to do and isn't weirded out by the fact that I have something like 550 different diagnoses lol.  I like the comparison my dad has been making lately.  He says that what I have is like cancer...good days and bad days...can't really control any of the symptoms, but you fight it like hell.  It kind of takes the pressure off, if that makes any sense.  I realized over the holiday that I was worn out because I felt like I had to be "on" all the time, even though my back was hurting and I was so tired.  I don't do well in crowds.  I've realized this.  So, I took my Nook e-reader thingy and played sudoku in between reading the old yoga text and Anne Lamott.  She is my favorite author, by the way.  I highly recommend anything that she's written.  Just when I think I'm the worst person ever who was somewhat Jesusy and crunchy, I read her work and feel right at home.  She's a bad Christian, too.  She always helps me not loathe myself so much lol. 
     My doc and I talked about me not having my daughter and how I'm doing in the transition.  I realized that I'm in an angry stage right now.  I don't know that I can actually say "stage" since my attitude can change within 5 minutes, and I'll do a 180.  Like today...I was going about my business doing just fine.  Then left the doctor's office pissed as hell at the child therapist for ripping my daughter away from me.  This, however, is not reality, and I realized that as soon as I started using the words fucking and shit while talking to my mother.  This is always a bad sign....though she was kind enough not to reprimand me while I was so angry.  Truth is, though, that when I get that mad about something, anything, it's usually because I'm hurting really badly about it or something related.  Don't you think you do that, too? If my reaction is a 15 on a 10 point scale, nine times out of ten, I am really hurting about something and find it way easier to be mad instead.  I don't feel so vulnerable or hopeless when I'm mad.  At least I don't throw things anymore...that ended several months ago lol...actually that is the truth.  I got so mad at a friend who owed me a ton of money, and I just about emaciated my phone after throwing it repeatedly because I was so "pissed".  What it actually was was that I was so hurt that he would borrow that money from me and then not pay it back, when I was a single mom on welfare, blah blah, blah.  It was all quite self-indulgent if you ask me - to lend him the money was my mistake, but I did it...that was my part in it...if that makes any sense.  Anyway, I'm tired of feeling angry now.  I think I'm going to try to chill for a bit before I have to go to bed.  If you pray, send love and light my way as I'm continuing through this journey.  Thanks for reading.

Dear God Letter...

      I have schizophrenia.  I also have a few other things, but schizophrenia is definitely there.  That's why I had to give up my daughter.  I am grateful that she's with family, but it's still hard.  Last night, my entire immediate family was here, and all of the grandchildren.  I love it when we're all together.  My brothers make fun of all of the bad and crazy hairdos that I've had...the bald heads and mohawks, though one brother had a mullet at one point.  I'm not the only one with bad taste lol.  Anyway, my mother played this damned song that absolutely wrecked my heart...it's actually really good, but I can't listen to it without bawling.  It's called "A Baby Changes Everything".  I don't know who wrote it, but Faith Hill sings it on her Christmas record I guess...it's my mom's.  I started crying, thinking about how different my Holiday is going to be this year.  How different my life is right now, and how much pain I'm in today.  Her new mother told me that my daughter is writing letters to God right now...telling him that she cries sometimes because she misses Lucy.  I was already crying about missing her....this just tore my heart out.   Though somewhere in my heart a little light shined in some tiny space because I am not forgotten.  She is not clueless about how different things are and how hard they are.  She is going to have an amazing and painful story to tell when she gets a little older.  I hate that it has to be a painful and difficult one, but I'm realizing that we connect to each other best when in pain.  Don't you think you do that? I know I do...there are some people I never thought I'd be involved with who can connect with me and help hold me up because they've been there.  Somehow or in some way, they've been there. 
     Anyway, I told my father as he was driving me home.  He suggested that I might want to write some letters to God too.  I'm still not sure if God is a He or a She, but I decided that "they" wouldn't care that much.  I hope not at least.  So, I decided that if I'm going to really be up front and honest about where I am, I would let you read  my letter to God.  I didn't get too deep, but figured I'd share, hoping that I'm connecting with somebody:

   Dear God,
     I know that I'm throwing up shotgun prayers right now...my heart is broken.  I'm starting to see a little light through the cracks, but it's all so painful still.  I wish that it could've stopped when I signed my rights over as her mother.  Couldn't the giving have ended there?  So much is frequently asked of me, and I give for the well-being of my child.  I give for hopping that if I do the next right, albeit hard thing that more light shines.  It may just be a tiny space filled with light, but it's more than I had.  Bless the people who endure mindless babble from a crazy girl.  Bless that baby that 'changed everyting' for me.  Let her know how much I love her...thanks.  Oh, and please honor these tears I cry for her.  Let me send her light and love and then drop it so I don't end up in that ocean, punching at the waves, trying to get somewhere more peaceful.
                              Amen

Happy Late Thanksgiving

      So, how was your Thanksgiving? That's probably not a proper way to begin a blog, but I always want to know how other people spend the Holidays.  I spent mine with my father's side of the family in a cottage on the beach in Florida.  This was the first time in 15 years that we were able to make it...the "we" being my mom, dad, and me.  I still don't have clearance to drive, mostly because I suck at it, so I rode with them.  Unfortunately I spent a lot of time in bed because of my broken back.  It gave me plenty of time to think, though, sans computer and other web capabilities.  We stayed from Tuesday until today.  I was ready to get home, back to the dog and all things familiar.  As I was laying in bed, though, I tried to maintain a positive attitude by thinking about the things and the people for whom I'm most grateful.  I read quite a bit...a little Anne Lamott and a little from an ancient yoga text.  The latter was extremely confusing and not nearly as entertaining as the first.  My brain seems to serve me well lately, as I haven't had an episode in several weeks now.  I welcome the reprieve with somewhat open and tentative arms.  I can't help but wonder when things will go downhill again, and I hate that about myself.  I wish I could enjoy the break without putting one foot into tomorrow's possible breakdown.  I don't think I'm alone in this.  And I don't think that this behavior is limited to those who have mental illness.  I think in some way we all do this, with whatever ails us. 
      As I lay in bed this week, trying like hell to be grateful when I really just wanted to crawl under a rock because I felt like I had the body of an eighty-year-old, I found that I had one foot in that today and getting home.  I was glad for the vacation, to see familiar faces that had gone unseen for so long, and to hear my elders tell stories of Thanksgivings past.  I became painfully aware, though, that the older generation's presence and guidance will not be there much longer.  They are getting older, and so am I.  Things are changing.  People are changing.  I am changing. 
     That is what I got most out of this week...that everything is changing.  My daughter is changing.  My relationship with her is changing.  She no longer calls me mom or mommy.  Instead, she calls me Lucy.  I don't mind it much, as that name is a term of endearment in my my family.  However, I am painfully aware that I am not her primary mother figure anymore.  It hurts like crazy, but I have to walk through it.  I'm 33 years old now, and I'm not getting any younger.  I wonder what tomorrow will bring.  Will I feel good? Will my back remain like the rusty cogs of a wheel or will I be able to move more freely?  Will my brain behave itself, or will it go off into some new psychosis?  These are all questions I've been asking myself while keeping one foot in today and one foot in tomorrow.  It's like my dad always says that if you've got a foot in today and one in tomorrow, that you're pissing all over today.  I love that...not the pissing on today part, but you know what I mean.  I think we all need to remember that.  I think that life comes in abundance when you stay right where you are instead of lurching towards tomorrow in expectancy.  Hopefully I'll remember that as the day closes.  Thanks for reading.

My Broken Heart

     Today is probably one of the hardest days I've ever had.  I found out that my daughter can't call me mommy anymore.  Instead, she's going to call me Lucy.  I haven't been able to stop crying.  I feel like my heart has been ripped into pieces and stomped on.  I understand that it's best for her.  Calling me mommy and my sister mommy is extremely confusing for her.  I am determined to do what is best for her, even when it feels like it's the end of the world to me.  I don't have much to say except to those who pray to continue praying.  Puffy red eyes are kind of the status quot these past couple days.  I'm so tired of grieving.  I want to feel happy.  I want to feel peace about the situation.  I wish that doing what's best for her didn't hurt so badly.  I pray and pray and sometimes feel comfort, and other times I feel completely alone.  I'm not a mom anymore.  I don't have a daughter anymore.  That sweet precious child that I gave birth to is no longer mine.  She won't identify me as her mother anymore. I feel like the world has truly come to an end.  What else is there? If I've been so obedient in my decision to give her up, why don't I feel rewarded? Why don't I feel loved? Why can't I stop crying and begging for that peace that passes all understanding.  I want her sooooo badly.  I long to feel those sweet, soft arms around my neck.  I will get to see her over the Thanksgiving holiday for 2 days.  I'm a nervous wreck...usually our meetings go well, and other times they're very tense. I am praying for the best situation.  Please pray for the same. I can't stop crying, so I think I'm going to get off the computer.  Thanks for reading.

Early Thanksgiving wishes...

     Well, it's that time of year again.  Normally I'm not a holiday person, but for some reason this year is different.  We're all going down to the beach in Florida to stay for a week with my dad's side of the family.  My daughter will be there, which is probably why I'm so excited.  They're only coming for 2 days, but that's 2 days that I normally wouldn't be able to spend with her.  I don't do well around big crowds, so I'm a bit nervous.  But I'll have my own room to go to if things get too overwhelming.  I hope that everyone has a great Thanksgiving. Even if you're not a holiday person, I know you can come up with at least one thing to be thankful for.  It's kind of a "one day at a time" thing for me.  I usually expect the worst, and then am pleasantly surprised how things work out.  I am hoping and praying that I don't have an episode while I'm there.  That would really suck.  I really don't have much else to say today.  I love you all and while we're on the topic of Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for you all.  The feedback I have gotten from my friends is so helpful and encouraging.  I'm grateful for my entire family and for their comfort and love during this difficult time.  Thank you so much for reading. Have a great holiday!

I hate the flu...

     I have the flu right now and feel like crap.  My friend encouraged me to write anyway, so I am doing just that.  The holidays are here and I find myself wondering how I'm going to cope.  My daughter  is doing really well, which I'm grateful for, yet I long for her to want her mommy.  Damned schizophrenia.  I always wonder if I did anything to bring it on.  My life has been pretty difficult,but there are so many other people who have gone through difficult things and still can take care of their children.  So, I continue wondering what I did wrong and where I went wrong, hearing the sounds of my therapist lingering in the background, telling me that none of this is my fault; that it's a brain disorder that no one has control over. So, the cycle begins again.  I forgive myself, then feel guilty about feeling forgiven, then feel depressed about the whole situation, then back to the beginning of forgiving myself all over again.  Does anybody else do this? Is it a crazy person thing?  I don't really know what it feels like to be "normal", but I imagine great things for that kind of life. I imagine that "normal" people don't feel as if they've abandoned their children; that they don't have to worry about half of the things that I do...that they don't have to rely on medication for some semblance of sanity. Then I hear that "normal" people have just as many problems...they're just different.  The thing that sucks is that I'm in the minority.  People don't understand what it's like to be mentally ill.  People can identify with "normal" people problems.  I miss feeling normal.  And at times I grow increasingly angry feeling abandoned by God and the human race.  I almost wish that I had a physical illness instead of one of the mental sort. That way people would understand and wouldn't look at me like I'm crazy when I share my life with them.  It's also times like these, when I'm pretty lucid and doing pretty well, that I wish I had my daughter back.  The other times, I'm grateful she's with my brother and sister-in-law, whom I consider a sister. I will have to find a balance between the two.  My sweet sister told me that she wants me to flourish in life, and to not feel as if I've put my daughter off on them so that I could have a "nice" life.  She knows my heart and knows that I don't operate like that.  I just need to find a place to balance.  Right now, though, with being sick, it makes the whole situation feel quite dreary.  I just have to hold on.  thanks for reading