raeofsunshine80's Journal

I write in my journal to help my loved ones maybe understand maybe a glimpse of who i (fear i) am and who i want to be. one friend told me she reads my journal but is often at a loss for words. my reply is 'something is always better than nothing.' as i am not doing this for attention or grand standing I hope to open up awarness and break down stigma but its so hard when there is no dialauge. and thats even more sad than loseing youreslef or someone you love to madnes.the stigma STINGS.

been more emotional lately. not sure if its because im not numb anymore and can actually feel my moods or what. I read a promise of hope this weekend could not put it down it made me cry so hard. I never quite understood how my brother must have felt because i never quite got to as bad of a place as he did. close many times but i always self talked my way out of it. and im really not sure how i did. i remember being as young as 7 or 8 and suicidal... how is a 8 yr old suicidal?? i always had my granny on my side. i was paranoid that she could see all the bad things i was doing just so my parents would stop and just 'be' and be with us.

there are so many paralells. to some towns shes lived to how she has lived. my mothers garden is her mothers garden. her mothers rage was my fathers early on and after the age of ten became my mothers too. her mothers dreamyness was my mothers. 

her lack of concentration is mine her evil voices are my brothers and grandfathers. i was lucky to only hear the voice of granny antie judy and later symphonies, radio shows, tv shows or distant people talking about me like when i was in the hospital haveing my baby (yup she does have edema *grumble* talk to me damnit!)... but as i strained to listen it would vanish. to lately the conversations included me, but i cant remeber them and my dreams have become vivid once again thankfully not tortured) her lack of sleep is my own. her paranoia is mine. and

i fear becomeing my parents. so when after haveing my child and i was on the verge of post partum psycosis i jumped head first into getting better. but i feel myself slipping. i remember the feelings i felt as a child enveying the mentaly ill and their lack of regaurd and rsp the ones that were locked up. i longed to be locked up. I wanted ot pretend to be that crazy. little did i know i was. i didnt think i could fake it to get in, but if i told them what was in my head and my heart i would have been hospitalised. I feared the shrinks as a kid for that they would tell my mom what was going on right after i said it so i didnt speak in a year of therapy that seemed like only weeks. everynight i cried myself to sleep. i felt broken and alone and judged as unworthy i didnt deserve to live. i wished i had never been born.

my moods are so closely tied to the weather its scary its unseasonably cold and wet this year and ive been so tired. when it got sunny out i was full of energy and got so manic the music and conversations surrounded me. it was better than just before the peak of it i was adgetated replaying memories and resentments of unsympathetic lost friends and lost chances. I obsessed about what i could have done better. what i could have done to help them understand. i know i cant unless they have been in my shoes AND admitt to it otherwise its a lost cause and they will fight tooth and nail to not be sympathetic to not have to see their own deficiency. Its a fight i wont win but cant keep from replaying in my head driveing me ever closer to wanting to have a holiday in the hospital.
(shortly after haveing my baby i wanted to dich the baby with her dad and disapear and start over,  'emotional suicide' my psyciatrist says.) I cant afford to be sick. Its not ok anymore to act how i have with my daughter here. just like its not ok for autumn (in the book a promise of hope) but my meds arnt working well i have more times of sanish moments but im so close to loseing it all the time, im tearful hormonal and obssessive however the highs and lows arnt as far up or down anymore.

I wont be like mom and get paranoid that the doctors are out to get me. or spit out tounge lashings that she would later deny or forget like it was said in a drunkan stupor. she sounds drunk like that. (or like dad who did but was useually drunk and now tries to deny because he is ashamed) i wont try to burn my hair or kitchen because i dont deserve to look pretty or have nice things. tho im sure that part of why i dont keep house very well. the other is perfectionisim and the all or nothing attitude i have about everything. i tell you shades of grey dont exist!I wont hit the wall in a rage that was just barly not given to a loved one like dad. and be sorry for it later. i know he was sorry i know he coulndt keep it in controll he needed help then or to grow up, which he has come so far. their lives have taught me lessons i hope to not repeat. i know my triggers and it sounds like its excuses and convinient and sometimes downright cold but what matters most to me right now is asleep on the living room floor.

I fear becomeing numb and not feeling the love i have for my baby my friends and family (again) its so dark in that place. i fear too much emotion, i fear there is no in between.i fear loseingwhat little i know of myself again to madness.