Hell and Highwater

  December 7: I remember when I was a little girl and I was wearing someone I think my aunts nightgown and I was throwing a fit for whatever reason and I remember they were all sitting around the table my aunts uncles idk like 6 of my family members laughing at me and then when I’m screaming and crying and yelling don’t laugh at me they laughed harder and eventually I peed my pants and then the laughing turns to shouting and now I’m in trouble Some times my brain is like a radio switching stations faster than I can keep up with my mind is on a trail going at Mach holy fuck and a word or a thought catches my attention and off my mind goes while my fingers are still typing the first thought so now I’m doing both. My mind is a like a radio

December 7:   The day was totally fine. I was fine. Not happy or sad. But I’d say closer to content and I came home from picking up lunches and I lost it. I was instantly raging. Screaming at my kids, kicking my dog, yelling at a very confused husband. My oldest crying because of it and I couldn’t find a single  DROP  of sympathy for him. What type of mom does that? A fucked up one that’s what. But I smoke a little on my weed pen and I’m instantly better. Instantly clear headed and no longer angry I can now see my irrational behavior. Why is it that I can’t see my actions except if I smoke a little weed. Pathetic isn’t it? This insane rollercoaster of never knowing when it’s gonna hit but all of a sudden and instant rage of hitting cabinets, tables, walls, all well screaming and heaven help you if you happen to be in my vicinity because no one is safe. I make sure that before I hit things and never people that I am alone. Why am I like this? There has to be some type of d...

  November 20: Some days my anxiety is like background noise and it hums all day long at a consistent electric current and other days my body throws me into anxiety attacks constantly all day long. My stomach tightens, my heart races while my mind screams SCARY, SCARY, SCARY. It feels like waves violently crashing over me while I’m unable to draw breath. Hitting me, pounding me, suffocating me. My anxiety is worse when I try to sleep. The attacks come like waves and if it gets bad enough; I pray. I’m unable to move, unable to reach for help so I silently pray. Locking the doors and windows at night or turning off all the lights downstairs before I go upstairs will start a panic attack. Today my anxiety told me that my interactions with everyone I came into contact with and every conversation I had held some type of awkwardness where the person walked away unsure of how to be around me. my anxiety lies to me. My anxiety also allows me to pick up on the slightest tiniest shift in emo...

November 13: The thought of specifically taking 10 mins dedicated to myself during a time when my family is awake gives me great anxiety. I was thinking that I still had to do my meditation homework from therapy and I need to be already relaxed when I start and I started thinking that nap time would be a good time but realized that I’m usually already stressed from the day by the time nap time comes so now I have to find a different time that I’m dedicating to myself where I’m not stressed out and Then the panic sets in. Because I can’t think of any time of the day that those criteria fit. Unless I’m willing to get up at 5 in the morning and well no thanks.   I’m more of a night owl than an early bird 

The first time I did therapy afterwards I felt jittery, the second time I had a sense of calm after. Today was the third and afterward I felt raw like a wound had been ripped open and I was in pain. Today I was again told that every reason I decided to go to therapy is a direct symptom of childhood trauma. This is only my 3rd session and that word continuously pops up.  I don’t have a lot of childhood memory before the age of 10 but those that I do have are not the greatest. So I can’t tell you what happened in my childhood that was so traumatic. And here’s what gets me is that if there’s something that traumatic; why wasn’t this talked about? Why when I was violently angry to the point of having to be restrained was it not explained to me why I was reacting like this? Why was it that every time I asked why I was the way that I was, everyone said they had no idea that I was just born that way. You all stood and agreed to forever hold this lie. Because this is coming to light, I’m h...

Reflection: The days after were fuzzy and a blur. It felt like at moments I was going at Mach speed and others it felt like the seconds crawled. Shortly after I wrote the last journal, I shared it with my husband and best friend. I swear I could feel the world physically stop turning. I didn’t have the guts to physically speak it or even been in the same room as they read the text message. The conversations that followed were uncomfortable to say the least and neither my husband or myself wanted to have them. I think the only reason that it worked was because we were both so insanely honest that you just had to be open to it and accept it. With that all said, my husband and best friend  never walked away from me. They stood by and have supported me the whole time. It definitely hasn’t been easy on either of them but id like to think each day is better than the last. 

  October 5:  I gotta do somethin cause I’m dying inside. Gods my last chance to actually find peace   I know what it feels like to want to die. It’s like your suffocating in a room where everyone else can breath. I want so badly to just go missing. I know exactly how I’d commit suicide.    I’d leave a video on a disk of a don’t come looking goodbye letter and then just walk out. I’d be homeless for awhile and then when enough time and distance had passed I’d end it. That way my kids are just hurt by their mom going missing instead of suicide and I’m just some unsolved Jane doe in some distant city. I know for a fact my kids and family would be better off without me in it. That’s the secret no one really talks about it. The secret of what happens when suicide sounds like the better plan. Like oh you have depression? People ask how you are but when your answer is something other than fine it’s a ‘Oh so sorry but let’s not really talk about the darker stuff.’...

 Hi.  I’m 30, a stay at home mom to 3 boys and a spouse. I’m 420 friendly and recently discovered microdosing which has helped tremendously with all my (idk mental health issues? Bullshit? Idk what to call it) issues. I’m also on the path of healing. I struggle with PTSD, anxiety, depression and probably a mood disorder or two. I started therapy at the end of October after coming so close to suicide I felt it whisper against my skin. Since then it’s been fucking hard, exhausting and rewarding journey. After this initial introduction, it’ll just be my random journaling as I walk the path that I’m currently on.  Hopefully it’ll help someone else.  ♥️ H