Tag: nightmares

Why deciding not to have more children is not a selfish thing and you shouldn’t shame people who make this decision.

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I have an 11 year old daughter. She has deep red auburn hair with my smile her daddy’s nose and the best of both of us. She is our heart and I can’t imagine life without her, but she is an only child for a reason.

It is rude to ask people who have one child when they are having more because it may not be in the cards for other people.  You should never ask someone this question or any question relative to people having children it is tacky.

Anyway my husband and I have been together since we were 16 and he had a shitty home life and had to take care of his younger brothers so he didn’t even know if he wanted children.  We decided after we got married and spent some time with our friend’s children that we weren’t necessary going to try, but if it happened then it did. All of friends said it took them around 6 months to get pregnant and since I knew nothing about getting pregnant or being pregnant I said we have time, but a month and half later we found I was pregnant. The way we found out was kind of awesome it was on my husband’s birthday. We were so excited and when we found out it was a girl my husband had tears in his eyes. I had a fairly easy pregnancy but at 8 weeks they told me I was more than likely going to have a miscarriage because my uterus wasn’t growing and back pain. I was about 2 weeks passed due when I had her naturally (I refused drugs which is a personal choice everyone is different) I couldn’t breastfeed and we went through a list of formulas for her.

She wasn’t an easy baby. She had colic and never slept while I was dealing with Post-Partum issues even when I denied it. There are parts of her life as a baby and toddler I can remember clearly, but when she was young I was diagnosed and our thought s about another child were gone.

It is amazing even when people knew about my illness they said it was selfish for me to use my illness as an excuse for not having another child. It isn’t selfish don’t ever tell anyone that it is a selfish decision it is for the safety of myself and the child. I talked to my doctor and all the meds I’m on aren’t safe to take while you are pregnant so I would have to wean myself off of those onto something not as strong to take while I was pregnant and then there were increase chances of miscarriages followed by the let’s hope the meds work. If I ever became manic or depressed and no one was around I could’ve easily killed myself or the baby. I also didn’t want to expose this child to the predisposition of having any of these illnesses because there are genetic factors with each one of them, but even with that would I ever change my mind about my daughter? I would love to say no, but I honestly don’t know. I see it in her the things she does like when I was younger and I worry she has it too. She’s seen child psychologist before about her anxiety, but I see her mood, here re/ actions to things and it was just like me and I pray that she isn’t cursed with it too. As a parent all you want to do is protect your child from everything but to know that I could’ve gave her something so serious hurts. I don’t want her to be like me, to go down the same roads I went down (I am hoping that if she is that my knowledge of everything will help.) She always says she wants to be like me but I don’t want her to be like me. I love her more than anything else in this world, but I never want to see her suffer through this shit.

The decision not to have more children was mostly mine and my husband supports and respects my decision, but don’t ever tell someone their reason for not having children is selfish because you don’t know the whole story. So I decided to not have any more children because of my mental health.

“Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, If I shall die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.”

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I’m trying to eat lunch. I really am even though my body disagrees and it feels like I’m forcing it down. I have salmon for lunch and I love salmon but every bite I take makes me feel like I’m going to vomit. I am trying to force the rest of me to believe that I need to eat. It is hard to force myself and maybe I shouldn’t but I know I will feel sick later if I don’t….I mean I will feel sick no matter what but it’s worse when I don’t eat. I want to crawl into bed and go back to sleep and maybe I will sleep for a little while without the dreams coming back. The dreams are almost unbearable and I don’t want to call my doctor because I’m scared of the inpatient conversation. My husband says I sleep like a rock, but it feels like I sleep in 45 minute intervals waking up constantly confused and upset. My moods wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the dreams. I have to call him I know I do. I tried the increase of Seroquel like he told me to do but it isn’t helping. I just want to stop dreaming. It only manifests to my anxiety and makes my anxiety worse and then I don’t sleep. My dreams aren’t useful and problem solving just a nuisance.

I called my doctor about my dreams and they are supposed to call me back but they didn’t. I appreciate my husband for making supper but I can’t eat still. I’m just not up to it. I am scared to go to bed tonight I’m scared of what I am going to see. I’ll try to keep up on my issues as they unfold and what works and doesn’t work. It reminds me of a prayer I was taught as a child.

“Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, If I shall die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.”

It is kind of cryptic but right now feels true.

The man that lives beside my bed. Schizophrenia and psychosis manifestation.

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I’ve debated this post and I’ve started and stopped it so many times. I am open about my addiction, my bipolar, mood swings, suicide attempts, hell even the exorcism but this one is hard for me. This is the part of the illness I’m not so open about because this is where the stigma about mental health finds a home. I’ve talked about it before and people are scared of me so much so they wouldn’t let their children play with my daughter. The good thing is anyone who is reading this and part of the mental health community can feel me on this subject with great understanding. I probably should talk about this more anyway.

I was diagnosed in July of 2013 the man appeared in April of 2014 but he’s never gone away. It doesn’t matter what antipsychotic they put me on what dose it is he doesn’t go away, but if I am taking my antipsychotic he doesn’t talk to me as much. I know how that sounds and I also know I am opening up a door for criticism and judgement but he is very much a part of my life. My husband, close friends, psychiatrist and my old therapist know all about him and they worry if I start to mention him because that means I am getting bad again and fast.

***Schizophrenia is a mental illness that causes psychosis, but schizophrenia also has other symptoms. And it isn’t the only cause of psychosis. In some cases, other mental illnesses cause psychosis, including depression, bipolar disorder, dementia and borderline personality disorder.*** In case you have no idea what I am talking about.

The man doesn’t have a face and he used to be a silhouette but as time passed he became more distinct. I would describe his shape almost like Jack on “The Nightmare before Christmas.” He’s tall and lean with extremely long arms and legs his fingers stretch out almost as far as his arm, but his face is still a shadow and he talks to me. It isn’t English but it isn’t tongues before any of you get excited about another exorcism. It is almost like a made up language between the two of us. Basically it’s your imaginary friend that’s been bit by a demon and won’t go away. When I stop taking my meds he starts with simple things keeping me awake he pokes at my anxiety. Then he starts with putting things in my head and I can’t avoid him so I start talking back. Those conversations start off with pacing back and forth then speaking quickly in between his sentences. I get hot and end up with half naked shaking and talking louder and louder. This normally happens in the middle of the night and wakes my husband up and I start rubbing the bottoms of my feet talking incoherently. From this point it gets blurry but he eventually doesn’t become the man beside my bed he is the man beside me everywhere.

The worst case was when I had an appointment with my therapist and he told me not to go as almost wrecked my car on the way there but when I got to the office I tell her he is here and she says she wants to talk to him and kept saying it wasn’t a good idea but she didn’t listen. I don’t know what happened but she said she could feel someone else in the room and there was a chill in the air.

That is as much as I am willing to talk about right now the more I say the more he starts to communicate.

Depression and disappointing your child.

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I didn’t do much of anything today besides fall asleep watching Netflix. I didn’t sleep well last night my dreams keep me up and down most of the night so sleeping was my biggest accomplishment for the day. I can feel the weight pulling me down the exhaustion from the thought of getting off the couch or picking up the remote. The list of stuff I need to do is crushing and there isn’t enough caffeine for motivation. My daughter wanted to go to the homecoming parade in the next city over but I haven’t showered, put on deodorant or a bra. I’m still wearing the same clothes I had on yesterday. I haven’t brushed my teeth or my hair so any public appearance is not happening. She jumped in my car when I went to pick her up and all she could talk about is the parade with her friends and I had to break her heart and tell her we weren’t going. I could see the hurt in her eyes and face but she tries to play it off. I ask her what’s wrong and she returns with nothing but her face is starting to turn red. She says she can’t tell me the truth because I get mad and start to call myself a bad mom. I tried to hold back the tears because she is all too familiar feeling when mama is sick. So I took my depressed ensemble to the dollar store where I spent $20 on random shit just to make her hate me a little less because it is my fault again we can’t go somewhere. I could feel people staring at me they knew what a horrible person I was. I bought her markers, notebook, modeling clay, and ice cream. She is excited but then I feel like I’m buying her love. We came home and I find my spot back on the couch find a movie she wants to watch and start to color with her. She is 11 and I know one day this won’t work anymore. This guilt is eating at me and I know she resents me for it and it will only get worse as she gets older. She wanted to go outside and play so I’m writing this hoping that I can rest for a few minutes before she comes back in. I can try and hide it for a little longer until my husband gets home or she goes to bed. I may not make it that long but I will try for her.

This is when the shit hits the fan. Anxiety induced dreams

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So I don’t know if I was asleep or awake last night, but all I saw was a sea of people with purple faces until they ripped their faces off and held me down in the water trying to get me to deny Jesus. Then everything went quite and the man beside my bed whispered, “I’m back.”

The next thing I know I’m in a tornado trying to grab on to anything that comes in my path but everything just slips my grip as I’m pelted over and over again, but their are no cuts and bruises just gaping holes across my chest and feet. I tried to catch my breath but each time I did I was drowning in a sea blood until the bitter blackness sweeps me away and my mouth becomes a desert that I can’t escape gasping for water until a waterfall falls on me and I can’t breathe again my hand raised above my head again grasping for anything trying to hold my head above water but being sucked down by a hurricane into a black hole and then the man beside my bed whispered, “Are you having fun yet?”

Finally my eyes opened and I couldn’t breathe my chest pounding too scared to get out of bed because what if this is part of his plan and I was dreaming? What is a dream and a reality becomes a 20 question game in my mind. My lip and cheek will start to bleed soon I’m biting for comfort and hope that I’m in reality and the tornado that has just started won’t come around again and start all over. That today I can concentrate at work with visions of ripped off faces in my head. when I tell people I’m not well they don’t understand what this means. This means that I was okay but now I’m not, this means calling the doctor and praying he doesn’t put me back in but instead adjusts my antipsychotic again. This means hoping that the darkness he has created around me doesn’t convince me to slit my wrist, OD on pills, sadly this is my reality until it passes again.

🖤