Tag Archives: nightmares

Drowning with Demons

by

1

heather_hamilton_bipolar_depression_suicideIt’s a web of feelings you can’t understand unless you have gone through a period where you felt the feeling of complete sadness, despair and loneliness. Sometimes, this onsets for no reason at all. Other times, it’s because of a trauma, an event, or stress. It feels like dying is less painful than being alive. You wish for death to end the suffering. To end the pain. To stop feeling so damn awful.

Physical pain sometimes accompanies the mental anguish. But the physical side is nothing compared to what this level of depression feels like. Pain feels good. This hurts worse than any cut, bruise, bite, or broken bone. It’s like your heart is dead. To feel any physical pain is relieving. For just a moment, you don’t have to feel the inside pain.

Crying is a sign there is still hope to climb out of this hell hole. Crying means you’re still in there … somewhere. I’ve been crying. That means I’m healing. It’s an outlet. Crying is an outlet of all the energy my body can’t handle anymore. Panic stricken attacks, hyperventilation and crying release some of the tension inside my body. And I feel a little better.

depression_drowning_bipolar_suicideScreams rip through my body while I writhe around, hoping all the pain and hurt I feel will disappear. So much hurt, so much pain. Letting it out is sometimes the hardest thing you can do, but letting it go eventually will feel better.

Sleep comes and will overtake your sore and exhausted body. I dread sleep when I am in these state of minds. Dreams invade my sleep, and usually they aren’t good. I tried turning off the dreams using drugs before, but then I just dealt with the demons. Since I don’t take the drugs anymore, I don’t see the demons… most of the time. When I am in a deep depression, I do see them. I hear them. They talk about me. They torture me. If I don’t move, if I stay still, they don’t bother me. If I get up, adjust my body position, breathe too loud, or talk to them, they assault me with their whispers.

It feels like this will never end. But it’s happened before, I know I’ll get over it. Logically, I know. But inside, I never know how much I can take. I’m drowning again.

Vulnerable

by

3

brickwallYou know the feeling of mentally drowning? The feeling of the world pressing down on you so much that it makes you feel so small, unimportant, and helpless?

Ok, maybe some of you don’t. This feeling makes me feel like it’s better for the world if I just cease to exist. It has been a while since I have thought about suicide.

Well, that feeling came back again today. And thoughts of my own demise comforted me. It’s like a security blanket, that when the world suffocates me, I at least have these feelings of release. An out, if you will.

I can’t seem to not cry. I can’t stop. The tears fall, and the thoughts start up again. And because my spouse doesn’t understand the feeling of having the comforting feeling of suicide, he says I’m selfish for thinking that way. Now making me feel guilty, once again. It’s not his fault. But… I don’t have anyone else.

It seems easier to not say anything at all.

I’m not judged. I die inside silently where no one can see. Sometimes, I feel so brave to ask for help, to talk about my emotions and expose a vulnerable part of me. And it seems, all too often, I’m poked with an electric stick and I regret talking at all.

This stems from mistakes that were made. Mistakes that were my fault solely. I take responsibility for my actions, I always have. However, I also take on more than I handle. This isn’t the first time, and it isn’t the last. This is a mistake I will continue to make. Because I challenge myself. Sometimes, I put myself in positions where I set myself up to fail. This is one of those times.

When I make a mistake, I can admit it, and I can learn from it. When I make a bunch of mistakes all around the same time, or on the same day, it builds up. I wish it would go away, and I could crawl in a hole and just have the world pass me by.

But I can’t, and it doesn’t stop. It seems I finally get into a mental state of ‘peace’ or whatever, and then one thing happens, then another. I’m overwhelmed, then I make a mistake. All the problems are unrelated, but in turn – they are related. And all of a sudden, my mental state crumbles and the brick wall protecting me is gone.

I’m a snail without its shell, and I’m sitting in the sun, baking. Can’t get into the grass, and can’t protect myself. Someone has to come save me or I will die.

I think it’s time to call my therapist again. I’m sinking back into the darkness. Again, and the nightmares started again last night.  No sleep. No dreams, just the demon. Back again from the graveyard of my mind. I thought I had buried that guilt so far into my mind that I wouldn’t see him again.

If I could take a vacation, I wouldn’t use it to travel or to do something fun. I would use it to take care of myself, and go to a mental institution to have someone fix the way I think.

Is that possible? To have someone just get in there, pop the hood, and change the oil? … in a brain? I hope so… because mentally, I’m done. I’m just going to let the thoughts of suicide comfort me for now. I’ll let the tears fall, and have some of myself die in the process.

I’m surprised I have any pieces left. I should just be an empty shell of a person by now.

Am I ready to be in a fishbowl?

by

15

I’m struggling to put what I want to say into words. I’m scared because I haven’t told many people about it. Will I be judged? Who will be there for me when I need them? Will people understand? Does it even matter? Do I even care? Will I be ridiculed? Is it my fault?

I’m struggling to decide how to put the experience into words. Everyone would see, would know.

I’m scared of how I will feel. I’m scared I’ll start having the nightmares again.http://www.popgive.com/2012/08/top-5-common-nightmares-explained.html

I’m scared it will come back and I won’t sleep. I call them demons. Whispers in the night. Shadows all around me. Enveloping me. At night, the darkness owns me.

I’m scared of people knowing.

Or worse. Confronting me about it.

I’m not a full person anymore. Something was taken from me. I think this was the beginning of when I started to lose pieces of myself. That’s when the darkness started. I’ve been dragged into the ground, where the pressure has pushed me down for so long. Hell, I was thirteen. I wasn’t even old enough to realize what I was feeling.

Am I ready to accept what happened and finally move on? Am I ready to talk about it? I’m sitting here right now, struggling to type the words. The words are so simple. If I can’t type them, does that mean I’m not ready? Do I have to force myself to do it? I think I might vomit. Or scream.

The whole reason I started typing, instead of doing talk therapy again was for this reason-to discuss what happened. To put it down in words. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to open up this chapter of my life. Everyone will know. I will be an open book.

If any of you watch “Private Practice”, the spinoff series from “Grey’s Anatomy”, this will make sense. Dr. Turner, a therapist, was pregnant, and was seeing a client whose baby had died. The client assaulted Dr. Turner, and cut out the baby from her stomach. She kidnapped him and left Dr. Turner to die on the hardwood floors of her own house. She was saved in time, but had intense PTSD. She went to a therapist to overcome all her struggles, and then wrote a book about it. Every detail was in this book. Clients, people on the streets, clerks, employees, doctors – everyone knew about her incredibly painful, intimate story.

No, this didn’t to me. But people approached her about the story and asked her questions. It helped her. Will it help me?

I’m scared.

The Demon Came…The story of how I was diagnosed

by

11

I was diagnosed in 2010 with something they called ‘Major Depressive Disorder’, or more commonly referred to as ‘clinical depression’. There were a series of events that led up to all my happiness being sucked out. By a demon. Yes, you have heard this word before, and as cliché  as it is – that’s what happened.

Our wedding

06/19/2010

It started in November of 2010, I was diagnosed around this time. Five months after my husband and my lovely wedding, we purchased a home. We had a housewarming party, and we love, love, LOVED our new house. Our first ever, dream home. We had everything ready, all moved in, unpacked, and were deciding what our next BIG thing would be. We had a trip to California planned for the Christmas holidays, and we were excited to tell everyone about our new house. When we returned… the house just… stank. My husband went to the basement, and .. squish squish squish… The carpet was wet. We had a flood. A big one. A nice, big, wet, moldy mess.

Back to the house. Here’s where things got tricky…
No, insurance didn’t cover it. Were there damages? You bet. Now, we had to max out credit cards, take out loans, just to MANAGE the flooding. It wouldn’t stop if we hadn’t put ourselves into financial hell. So, for the next 6 months, instead of doing our next BIG thing… we paid off our debt.
Our house

Depression sunk in. I realized our horrible situation, and how this was going to affect everything. This was the beginning of when I realized something was wrong … in my mind. And I needed help.

It flooded again… and I started thinking about suicide. I didn’t want to go through this anymore. As much as the flood and money problems are all material things, there were much deeper issues going on. Family issues, emotional issues. I couldn’t do it. I went into work with a mask on, trying to hide the fact I was royally fucked up in the mind. My mind was a prison and I couldn’t breathe. It had padded walls and no windows. Thoughts of previous traumas filled my head.. one in particular, and it was my demon. He haunted me.

Now, during this time, there were also MASSIVE family issues going on (my side and my husband’s side. The issues aren’t directly related to this story, so that’s for another time. The nightmares started. The demon was in my head. I stopped sleeping. He started coming during the day. He was everywhere, and he was after me. I was now on anti-anxiety meds, antipsychotics, and sleeping pills. I was numb from the pain. That was the idea. Miraculously, my husband and I weren’t having problems, but we weren’t great either. We were… managing.

**************************************************

Flood 2010

Click for larger image

A few months later (March), we had another flood… in the other side of the basement. This time, we were going to cover all our basis. I won’t get into the nitty-gritty details, but basically, this cost us about double our down payment. So, again… financial hell. Things weren’t getting better… we were just getting deeper and deeper into debt. My depression got worse, and I was numb every day. I wanted to die. I just needed one shred of good news…

254284_1681843375807_6255022_n

Click for larger image

Well, I got promoted (company from hell)! This was going well for about three weeks. Then…I got fired. Great, huh?

No reason as to why they let me go. None, no explain came from my company. It was really… out of the blue. So, I immersed myself in self-pity and thoughts of death. I tried to talk to my husband about it, and he got angry at me for thinking that way. I stopped going to therapy. I didn’t want to go anymore. I didn’t want to get out of bed. So I didn’t. I just played video games. And watched Grey’s Anatomy. Which actually helped. I liked to watch other people’s problems, and thought they were funny. That’s what the show is supposed to be about, right?

I hated myself. I failed. Our house is a mess. Our wallets are empty, and in my head, they would be forever. I couldn’t sleep, the nightmares kept coming. I didn’t want to do anything, but if I didn’t think, the demon would come back. I didn’t want to talk to this demon, and I didn’t want to see him. I hate him. I saw him everywhere, he followed me awake, asleep, at home, in the car, at a restaurant. Everywhere. If I shut my eyes hard enough, he was gone. Just white spots appeared instead. So, I had a drawer full of medicine that would make me sleep for a long time. Maybe, if I didn’t wake up, the demon wouldn’t come after me anymore.

So, I took a bunch of the pills.

Apparently, that wasn’t enough, because I woke up the next day and the demon was there. So was my husband. I couldn’t tell him what him what happened. (I did eventually, he was angry again) I just told him I was really tired.

560873_3373294621031_225735804_n

Click for larger image

Well, a few weeks later, I gathered up what remaining dignity I had and looked for a job because my severance was out, and unemployment only went so far. I put on the mask again and went to interviews. I found a job. A great job, actually. With a great company, great people, great pay, and best of all… these people are now my friends. I feel they support me, and understand. I need that. I need a ‘work family’. Which I have now.

Shortly after I started at this great new company, I saw my therapist again, and she recommended I get a dog. A therapy dog, specifically. Well, in our current financial state, buying an already trained therapy dog wasn’t possible. So, I just settled on getting a puppy. Which we were seriously considering. A coworker of mine needed to find a new home for his dog, and Wa-La! We have Napoleon. I fell in love, and he’s the perfect ying to my yang…so to speak.

Now, back to the basement issues, we had 2 more floods in 2011 while we were rebuilding. So, we hired a lawyer and threatened a lawsuit. Because we asked so nicely, the plumbing company came out and fixed their mistakes. . . finally. So, we started rebuilding again…

One room at a time..

Framing.Insulation. Drywall. Mudding. Texturing, Baseboards, Painting… Dollar sign, Dollar sign, Dollar sign… gone, gone, gone. More anxiety, more feelings of we’ll never get out of this.

But we did… and here are some pictures of our finished basement. After the damages.

Hallway

Hallway – Click for larger image

Bathroom

Bathroom – Click for larger image

Living Room

Living Room – Click for larger image

Office

Office – Click for larger image

Guest Room

Guest Room – Click for larger image

**********************************************

1 year since original flood… November 2011

My dog was diagnosed with mast cell cancer. This was a pretty big kick in the gut. There was no other option: We had to operate. We had to do everything we could to keep him around with a high quality of life. So, we removed the tumor. There was only one, and he would need some recovery time. They got it all, and were having it biopsied. We would know in a few days how bad the cancer was.

Now, we had already planned going to visit family for Thanksgiving. Ryan’s family lives in California, and we like to go once a year. All the plans were already made. So, we planned on going, and leaving Napoleon with a trusted friend. The stitches would be out, but he would still need regular walks and some physical therapy so that those muscles were used to prevent atrophy.

Cancer test came back Grade 1, and we think we got it all! That’s great news. What a great way to start the trip! Knowing our dog would be with us for quite a long time! Napoleon

So, we left Napoleon with our friend after his surgery, and we had the neighbors watching the basement every day. We covered all our bases. Now… I was really uncomfortable without Napoleon. He had been my security blanket and without him… I felt naked. I cried, I felt unsafe, the fear came back. The nightmares, the demon. But… I put on the happy face again, and pretended to be excited.

Now, the kicker… a few days before we left, my grandmother passed away. My mom was very upset, and she was having a really hard time with it. I felt horrible for leaving for Thanksgiving. We already booked our hotel, and our car, and our flights, there was nothing I could do. It was done, I was leaving.

The day we got into town, I noticed I had a sharp pain in my stomach, but didn’t really pay attention because of all that was going on. As the week progressed, this got worse and worse. I was in tears almost every night because of the pain. I just took more anti-anxiety meds because it numbed me.

We get to California, and we see my husband’s grandmother (who we knew was sick) … but we weren’t prepared for what we saw. She was dying. She had lost her spunk, her energy. It hit me like a train. I had just lost my grandmother, and now we were going to lose my husband’s… I have been in the family long enough where his family is my family now. This was hard.

demon

Thanksgiving Day. I started vomiting this morning. But I sucked it up, because we were on vacation, and I was supposed to be enjoying myself. I also had to because it was Thanksgiving day.

So, I sucked it up, and we spent the day with the family… while our grandmother was in a hospital bed.. she had started hospice the day before. Meaning she didn’t have much time. That evening, I was in so much pain, I had started to vomit more, and I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t walk, everything hurt. I felt like I wanted to die. Oh, how badly I just wanted someone to kill me. This was from pain, not from my mental prison.

Emergency room. They finally gave me dilaudid for the pain. They did tests, and realized I had a severe kidney infection, and it was in danger of rupturing. They kept me there until I had ‘drunk’ all the fluids in the banana bag (which also had antibiotics, apparently). Going to the ER in another state, and not having a ‘home’ to go to when you leave is not comfortable, let me tell you. I was told to be on bed rest for a week. I thought that meant a few days. I’d be up and around.

We went to my husband’s family’s house the next day and said our goodbyes. Especially to our grandmother. She really was near the end… I didn’t know how much longer she had. I was now drugged up to all hell, and was numb again. So, seeing her like this, and saying goodbye was painful, yes. But I wasn’t really ‘on this Earth’, if you know what I mean. I was watching myself say goodbye.

Then we left for the airport. I had to basically close my eyes the whole way because I had car sickness. The movement was hurting, so I just focused on not throwing up. Got to the airport, couldn’t walk. Needed a wheelchair. I was scared about the flight… scared I might vomit, and I hate planes. So, I combined my drugs and took a sleeping pill, and a dilaudid for the plane trip. I do like dilaudid…

When we call my father-in-law to let him know we got back into town safely, he tells us our grandmother had passed away. I was numb already, so I couldn’t feel anything. My husband was very upset and I, in my sick state, needed to take care of him, too. We picked up Napoleon, who was overly excited to see us, and we just weren’t in the mood to be around a jumpy, excited, slobbery dog. So, we went home, I curled up in my bed, with Napoleon on his bed, right by the bedside, and slept… for a week. I had started my treatment for the kidney infection, and had some much needed me-time under the gentle protection of narcotics.

Once I was ready to go back to work, I was rested, I was more happy than I had been in a while, and best of all, I didn’t have the demon show up. At least during the day.

That’s … the incredibly long story (sorry about that… hope it wasn’t boring) about how I was diagnosed and the first few years of dealing with my demon. He still comes around, and I’m not ready to face him.  But this was the last time he’s come during the day. There were events from years before that led up to this diagnosis… but I need strength to post them. I need support from my friends. I think it will help… I need strength.