Just another day.

Forty five,

Still alive,

Split in two,

I know not who.

I don’t normally rely on other people’s written content to explain or communicate my message. However, this year has been so confusing, toxic, shocking and draining that occasionally I have no words.

Nor do I have the energy to conjure up the enthusiasm to write positive and, hopefully, funny/wry observations of my life.

The short poem at the start – actually it’s not a poem – it’s only words. Yet I wrote this post on Sunday and could not continue – I lost the will to think further. I lost a few hours and continue to do so – both figuratively and literally – life has taken on a feeling of surreal surrender.

When looking up humour, the ever faithful and insidious beast that is the unreliable Wikipedia states that there are many “Theories of Humour. One theory of Humour in particular is very fitting for the Unfathomable Life of Isabella.

The “Incongruous Juxtaposition Theory” (don’t you just love the name!! I’m actually in awe of the heading let alone the precise fit of this theory to my life. Full stop). Wiki states:

“……The incongruity theory states that humor is perceived at the moment of realization of incongruity between a concept involved in a certain situation and the real objects thought to be in some relation to the concept.…”

Ha! My life!

Finally – this post was started on Sunday – my 45th birthday. It has taken me until today to have the fortitude to revisit the post and the day. I spent it exactly how I wanted – the same way I have spent all birthdays, anniversaries, Easter’s and Christmas since my mother died in April 2015. Alone. At home. Alive and loved by my cats.

Another irony was my horoscope thanks to Astrology Answers:

“Oct 13, 2019 – You have the Full Moon in Aries in your seventh house of partnerships, Libra. No matter what your relationship status is right now, today’s Full Moon is inspiring you to bring a matter to a close with great relief. Wherever you can show the love in your world right now, Libra, is exactly where you will feel it.

Follow the creative and passionate energy of the Full Moon in Aries today, Libra, and a closed chapter or relief in love or life are very possible. Today’s Full Moon is amplifying some changes or closed chapters for you here. If you are hoping for a partnership to go to the next level, then make a move today as this is in your favor. Your perception is pretty en pointe today as well.

And you will very easily be able to pick up signs and clues from Universe about any partnerships today as well, Libra.

Oh boy did I pick up the signs and clues for partnerships on Sunday. Bye bye Joey.

Until next time.

Luv,

Me.

Memories

Like A Cat

Cyndi Lauper – Like A Cat

I lived in your shadow

I drove your car

You thought I belonged in your four walls

I was never your bunny

I was never, never your pet

When you threw me out the window

I landed on my feet

Yeah you threw me out the window

Like a, like a, like a cat

Hey mister you can never own me

I only let you hold me like a cat

And mister you can never know me

I only let you stroke me, like a, like a

You thought I’d be purring

Curled up by your fire

Don’t want to be kept for your desire

You said I should be happy

But it only made me sad

And when you could never tame me

That made you mad

No you could never tame me

Like a, like a, like a cat

Hey mister you can never own me

I only let you hold me like a cat

And mister you can never know me

I only let you stroke me

You rescued…

Source: LyricFind

FML

Re-reading my posts from years gone by I have been struck by one very obvious fact.

My entire life is Groundhog Day.

And I fucking detest that movie – it creeps me out.

And it appears I have the lead role.

For fucks sake – can someone re-cast this role – I don’t wanna play no more.

Ta.

A sulking, irritated Isabella.

Photo credit: Ryan Jacob Smith
Fuck My Life

Fear, pain, remorse and the beginning of the end.

This is so true right now – in fact my whole life has been like this. I was always looking after someone else – trying, but mostly forcing, my own will onto others.

I was critical, judgemental and angry at those close to me. I fought, cried and begged them to try to help themselves – knowing that I was forcing my will onto them. Whilst I was also sabotaging and harming myself to resist change and to cope with hating myself.

I was in so much pain and expressed it the only way I knew how – by being angry when they wouldn’t seek help, play the martyr or call me to fix the problem when it had escalated to being a crisis. I’ve lost so many years trying to fix the broken people around me – in the process I lost myself and harmed myself.

Finally in 2016, I admitted I was beaten and wrong – my way never worked – I had to change. No one else.

My last drunken binge was huge and I had no idea it would be the last time I would drink. Wednesday 20th of April, 2016 consisted of lunch drinks at 12pm noon sharp – 3 glasses of red wine in less than an hour.

The waitress was friendly when I first sat down to have “lunch” on my day off, however at the end of the two hours and 6 red wines, she wasn’t as friendly. I was aware of the change in attitude, the looks of astonishment and judgement she was casting at me – it was time to leave. I was completely steady on my feet, no slurring or falling over – which would tell its own story of the high tolerance I had for alcohol.

I hadn’t finished for the day! Oh no! The sun was shining, I was blissfully aware of the world around me and felt beautiful, funny and an abundance of love for everything and everyone. There was no way in hell I was returning to the dark dungeon that housed the dark, moody and depressed Joey who refused to leave my home until he was ready. Oh no. I was determined to have some fucking fun in my life for once. I wanted to party, feel the sun on my face, laugh and feel free.

The day was still young – so much time left to drink and have fun for the day! I was determined to ignore that I had to drive to get home, had work the next day and would eventually have to return to the blackened husk of toxic waste I called home.

I called Anne of Green Gables – my best friend since I was 16 – yep! Of course I could come around and keep her company while she played her role as housewife with 3 children all under the age of 5. I rocked up to her place at 2pm, music blaring, grinning, brandishing two bottles of red wine. The kids loved drunk Isabella – they had no idea why mummy and Isabella were so much fun all of a sudden!!! Anne of Green Gables and I polished both bottles of red wine by 5pm – just in time for me to leave before her husband came home. Being the good friend I am I left another bottle of red wine for her to have that night – I even opened it and poured her a glass. We were so clever doing this – her hubby would think that she had just opened the first bottle for the day! He would never know it would be her second bottle of the day. Hehehehehehe

By 5.30pm I was home safe, no fatalities, car in one piece and as drunk as a skunk – but nooooooo the party would not stop. I cracked open a bottle of white wine so I could be classy and pretend that I had my drinking under control.

It’s now 7.30pm and I was onto the sparking wine and polished that off just in time to drive to the bottle shop for another bottle of sparkling wine for the night. Shops close at 9pm – how rude!

Fuck off Joey – I’ll drive if I want to, I’m fine, and no I don’t want to fuck you! But I do want you to move out of my fucking house and get your stinking rotten carcass out of my grandparents bedroom where you have been festering for 8 months. Thank fuck you are leaving in two weeks – on Mother’s Day of course – you’ll make that fucking day all about you of course.

Ohhhh yeah. That sweet, friendly Isabella had turned into her toxic, abusive revolting individual who was vile and vindictive.

I’m told by Joey that I was pretty full on abusive which I don’t doubt. Anne of Green Gables later told me she had no idea at any stage that I had drank a bottle of red before starting the party at her place. See! Told you I could handle my alcohol and my tolerance was high! Isabella knows her fucking alcohol limits, regularly exceeded them and turned into a blackout, erratic hot pile of mess.

That party on Wednesday 20th April, 2016 had me in bed and hungover for two days. Of which the hours were excruciatingly painful, soul destroying, full of regret, denial, fear, shame, remorse, guilt and the obsessive certainty that I would lose my job, then my car, my house and my life.

Something had to change.

And amazingly it did. One day at a time. Sometimes one hour at a time or one step, second or thought at a time.

More to come.

Luv,

Me.

Isabella

❤️❤️❤️

Joey – The Boy Inside the Man

2013 – in reflection – was the start of the end …. although it could be argued that either the years 2011 or 2012 have equal rights to this dubious accolade.

You see, 2013 was the year that Joey entered my life – I believe somewhere around May – via an online dating app that my ego was burnt on. My ego was so deflated and ashamed that Joey was the only person I spoke to and met up with.

Text messages and emails soon led to phone calls – what Joey did not know, nor did I wish him to, was that I was always drunk when we communicated. Even over the phone – surely I slurred my words after two bottles of wine on a week night??

Finally, after a week (I know – I played very hard to get) we met up in person in a bar of my choice in the city centre. Coz – you know – safety first. That date went for eight hours – lunch, drinks and dinner. During this boozy time I felt myself drawn to him – on reflection – he played me from day one. But I was completely unaware. I was too busy thinking – oh wow! I am dateable, desirable, funny and everything that my newly ex-partner told me I wasn’t! Joey laughed at my increasingly drunken jokes, showed a sensitive side, gazed into my eyes and for the first time in years, I felt like the only woman alive in the world. Because Joey was only focused on me.

Two short dates later and I invited him into bed with the romantic, classy invitation of “So are you going to take me home and fuck me?”. After a short, stunned pause Joey immediately grabbed the bill and we were out of the there and he was in!

Ohhhhh boy was he in. We spent the remainder of the weekend in bed – only getting up for showers and alcohol – no food that I recall. Highly doubtful as by this time I was living my own life in a gorgeous apartment in a trendy suburb and white or red wine, sparkling wine and bar food was my food of choice. The cupboards were bare – although I recall him eating Skittles sourced from somewhere. Recollections are hazy as – you know – I spent the entire time drunk, having the most glorious sex of my life and sleeping – in that order.

That weekend soon led to every weekend with Joey in bed, bars and alcohol. We got on so well that we wondered why waste time? Why not have access to each other 24/7 and have Joey move in immediately.

So that is what we did – Joey moved in – officially eight weeks after our first date. July was not only the start of the new financial year – it was the start of the most tumultuous, passionate, fucked up relationship I have ever had. I know right???? Again – I do play hard to get. Safety first – never invite a stranger into your home on the first date – which I didn’t. So there. I was safe.

What I didn’t know was that Joey was a daily dope smoker – I did know he was just finishing a private investigator qualification and he was a casual/part-time actor which meant he had no daily commitments. Joey would wave goodbye to me from my newly purchased bed, using my brand new couch and TV in my gorgeous apartment while I went to my highly paid Management job. Monday to Friday – 8am to 6pm – I worked and he did what he pleased in my apartment. Great Gig for Joey!!! I have suspicions that he wasn’t alone every day …… the lying and doubts started immediately.

What Joey did not know when he moved in was that I was a failed Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) member from 2011 and 2012 – therefore I was an active alcoholic in every manner.

Oh well. All is fair in love and war.

Within a couple of weeks, I was silently acknowledging to my alcohol addled self that ….. yes ….. I was dating my father – figuratively speaking of course. And….well…… Joey had some problems – and they were not caused by me. Well not at that time anyway.

Joey was – and still is – an incredible lover, sensitive and intellectual – all that dope smoking during the day and WarCraft while I am at work meant that he was ready for me at all times.

I saw not only my father in his past, I saw the boy in the man and I fell madly, deeply and passionately in love with him. I could not tear myself apart from him – so much so that I ended up getting myself retrenched in September – great! Not a problem! I too will go on Government benefits – just like Joey – and we can have daily sex, drugs and alcohol – what a life I threw myself into.

Yep. As I said – 2013 was the start of the end of my life as a respectable career woman and the start of an abusive, explosive and unemployed few years of my life – to date.

I am proud to announce that I am now, again, unemployed, occasionally having amazing sex with Joey and our relationship is still as fucked up as it was in 2013.

Don’t worry – I will fill in the gaps soon – my life over the last 7 years has resembled The Shining, Forrest Gump and – as a (now ex) close friend said – the worlds greatest train wreck ever seen – if not in comparison to the explosion of Earth.

Luv,

Isabella

xxx

My big mouth.

Warning – long post and hopefully a laugh for someone. I am. 😁🤦🏼‍♀️🧐

It’s so easy to fool everyone that you’ve got it together. I recently divulged some recent thoughts and plans to my GPS of 20 years and they lovingly “dobbed” me into my psychiatrist of 12 months. I thought I had told my GP the REAL BAD thoughts.

Until I saw my psychiatrist 3 days later🤦🏼‍♀️. Firstly – she was horrified – “why didn’t we know?” – my response was “Look at me – no one would ever guessed – I’m always “on” and well presented” (hello shopping addiction ❤️ U).

Then she REALLY hit the big time – …”…medication ain’t gunna cut it!” she cried! “…It’s a band aid fix!!!…“

“The Drama of Gifted Child” by Alice Miller was almost ordered as mandatory reading. Then the shocker – once weekly intense therapy sessions with her … “most people need 12-18 sessions Isabella….. you …. you’re looking at intense therapy of up to 30-40 sessions!!!” and inpatient DBT therapy!!!!

“Do you have private health insurance?” she queries yet again. …. same answer – no. “Well this is my specialty and I don’t mean to be rude Isabella but I charge $300 an hour – and I don’t bulk bill or take private health insurance”. We both looked at each other – both immediately hoped that the lovely (unnamed for privacy reasons) funding will agree to pay for her …. we have decided to proceed and charge. THEN deal with them if they reject the additional costs. I love acting first apologising later!!!

As for private health insurance – I do now! Hello top private Heath insurance company- welcome to draining my savings.

THEN this little black duck went back to her GP (I ❤️ Them) and thanked her for “dobbing me in”. When I mentioned the car/garage, my GP looked majorly confoosed… spun around to her computer notes and said “I don’t remember you mentioning THAT!” That’s when I realised …… I HADN’T ACTUALLY TOLD HER THE ENTIRE “BAD” bits!!!! So essentially dobbed myself in twice. 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️ ****Note – Phenergan fucks me up big time****

So I threw out my Phenergan a second time in 3 weeks….

Clearly all this shit is why I was abusing substances for so long…. and a deeper me wants help not….. the other alternatives.

Lessons for me: my inner core and other internal/external drivers want to live life with peace, calm and something called happiness. At just over 3 years sober I’m smacking my forehead and saying to my lovely medical team – this is why I drank and drugged…. to avoid these memories and feelings.

This is why I’m so fucking alone in the world:

    No family – except two males I keep at text/email distance,
    close acquaintances I see every 4-6 weeks maximum 2-3 hours whom I’ve know maximum of 3-4 years,
    an erratic, beautiful fucked up guy since 2013 in/out of my life (hello Joey!)
    Nil social outings or I rotate/space out lunches or dinners or I have spurts of social engagement that drains me and leaves me vulnerable and agitated.
    No job or career aspects anymore.
    Income protection kicking in soon.
    The option of employment is out of the window for at least 12 months.
    Medicated but not a zombie.
    Hobbies include reading, new to gardening and …. online shopping.
    On bad days I lay on the couch watching the sun and clock move from morning to night so I can go to sleep.
    I see blood and death everywhere….
    I have three cats that calm me.
    l look great on the outside – even act it for a while…. guys think I’m awesome. Until they get into a relationship (I snare them quickly before they get away) and realise I am not wife material or as good as I seemed. But they’ve hung in there bless their cotton socks – coz I look good … and have other talents that I’ve refined over the years. I know my worth and skills – “a lady in the living room …. a whore in the bedroom..” 😉 Never been into casual sex – I’m too clingy. 😳🤣🤦🏼‍♀️

I truly believe I’ve been cursed or my soul lesson is to learn to be completely alone – everyone dies or leaves me. In my 20’s and 30’s when I had friends we would joke that everything does around me. 2013 onwards – it’s no longer a joke but reality. If I followed Buddhism faithfully, or at all, I would believe my life journey is to learn to live without attachment to people, places and things. And that’s ok.

Drinking is not an option – I refuse to die a drunk. But I haven’t ruled out euthanasia or other means …. but that’s for another day and decade hopefully.

AA program and beliefs (I don’t go to meetings anymore), other program tools, sober acquaintances and a strong belief in my Higher Powers (I’m so special I have a few 😉) a stupid internal resilience and ego keeps me alive, sober and trying to break the curse – one day at a time. Not friends, family or other social connections. Just my Drs, cats and an internal driver.

Luv,

Me

xxxx

All We Need is Love

“I don’t want my idea of you. That’s too easy, and it isn’t real. I want you, faults and all. And I want you to want me, faults and all, not any ideas you have about love.” Waylon Lewis

Over the last few weeks, I am slowly appreciating – and accepting – that love comes in many forms.

I’ve always believed in the concept of “Let go, let love” and have loved one boy – who is now a man – since I was 18 years old. Bobby. He is my soul mate, my Romeo, the man I loved enough to let go of – hoping that one day we would be friends again. By the end of my 20’s we were no longer in contact and my heart ached and I mourned the loss for many, many years – in some ways I still do.

From there I sped into my 30’s – spending close to 10 years with a man – J – who simply saw me as an adornment, a symbol and something to have around the house for show. There was an empty hole in my heart and soul that I filled with alcohol and substances – we knew from the first few months that we were not a good match. Yet we persevered. Why? I still do not know fully – I have some insight – however the full reasons have not yet been revealed – and may not be. All I know was that the girl I was always felt invisible, alone, a ghost in the corner, unheard, a girl who lost her voice and knowledge of who she was – not that she knew in the beginning either. I did not have the strength to end the charade, so I exploded the life I had with him in November 2012. The remnants of that relationship and girl are still shards of glass that slice – I don’t delve too deeply into who she was – yet. She is still a charred, burnt out shell that I am slowly tying to heal.

I have loved another man – Joey – recently – since 2013. Again – I loved the boy inside the man enough to let him go, yet hung onto him at times that were harmful to him and I. We are not kindred spirits or soul mates, yet our love and passion runs deep – the fire in our love burns our souls. There is little nourishment or security with him, yet the sexual energies and shared intimacy keep lying to us both. The physical passion we experience taunts us – we connect so deeply when we make love, yet in the real world we struggle to communicate. At our worst we are revolting creatures who we do not recognise – we treat each other appallingly – vicious words, hurtful silences, wounding , scratching, and harmful energies. Yet there is love. Yet again, I have ended our relationship and want to be friends again – it’s better that way.

With all three men, we have tried multiple times over many years to make our love work – yet have not been able to. The first love of mine finally ended after eight long painful years – I let us both go free as he did as well. It was a mutual and painful choice.

The second laboured on for ten years.

The third man I have surrendered to the truth and we are now free to be friends as of last week. It’s still raw. But right. Joey and I will always be friends. I know that.

Bobby and I – well we live over 2000 kms away from each other, have not seen each other in person for ten years and only recently video called each other. Showing each other our homes, and absorbing the changes the years have made to each other. And we have – slowly – formed a friendship that is full of love and gratitude. The bond is still there, forgiveness and trust strong and love spoken, given and relieved.

I’m learning that I don’t need to be in a relationship to feel loved – I do not yet love myself much. Yet I respect and admire all three men in different ways – thus I trust that they see, or saw, something in me that I am yet to see or acknowledge.

I am trusting that if Bobby and Joey can love me, see some good in me, that maybe, just maybe, I am lovable.

With much love,

Isabella.

Changes… are for the best – right???

Blog name change from “Just Be Normal” when I first started this blog in 2011/2012(?).

My now ex partner used to shout that at me …..”Just be normal!!!!!!”. He did not understand that I didn’t know what normal was, I didn’t know who I was …. so how could I be something when I didn’t know anything else?

Close to 7 years later, I now know why I didn’t know what “normal” was (or is).

Please do not start the “…who wants to be normal anyway…” crap. Only people who have had the standard childhood and have houses, partners, children, jobs, friends, hobbies and holidays think they know what normal is. I am nowhere near having any of that now – except the house (thank my higher power and family) and friends I keep a safe distance away from me – logistically and emotionally.

So – new blog name – Unfathomable Life – because I don’t understand why I have this shit to deal with. Some of it’s my own doing, however, most of the unravelling of me, my mind and my life is due to other people’s actions.

I don’t know how I have ended up right where I am today.

I am totally alone, no family except two males I keep a huge distance from.

No partner – well today that is – tomorrow or next week we may be seeing each other again (Joey is for another day).

No job, no employment or study plans on the future – just hours of therapy apparently ahead of me. Outpatient may be 30 – 40 hourly sessions a week and/or inpatient DBT therapy. I have no idea.

All I know is that I’ve joined the highest rank of Private Health Insurance to be able to be treated as an inpatient after two months. It costs a bomb.

I know that is 5pm and I’m done for the day – on my bed and just wanting to sleep the night away. That’s not normal for a 45 year old. I’ve done my household chores, eaten a pie (unusual- normally donuts for dinner lately) and re started this blog.

I have a long to do list and have spent the past 3 months working on updating my back Garden and house so it is an oasis of calm.

This week is the first week since May that I have only small projects to do. And I feel disconnected, invisible, alone and, at times, calm. I count my blessings, know my fortunate circumstances and am grateful. Yet I cannot get away from the fact I’m stuck with childhood trauma and feelings that are surfacing every day that I have to manage.

I cannot forget that no one wants me, no one needs me and no one truly cares. I know that the people in my life care for me – even love me – but that doesn’t change the fact that 24/7 I am alone.

It’s completely unfathomable to me how this life of mine has turned out like this. I believe that I am toxic and destined for people to leave or die. Destined to be alone for eternity.

Enough lamenting as Joey would say.

Night, night.

Isabella.

Summary of 2019 so far.

Life is slowing down again since May fall out.

To cope I have reverted back to keeping busy. I’ve been keeping myself busy with major projects – outside garden revamp, inside house clean out and re-arranging of every room and adding indoor plants.

Luv,

Me.

Image found: https://images.app.goo.gl/4kdutgtKQ7PM2Vku6

2019 – Unfathomable Life Events

This wonderfully accurate drawing by Red Howling is the month of August’s featured cartoon in my Pets of the Homeless Australia calendar.

Both are Australian companies who passionately, and creatively, work to engage and support our vulnerable members of our society.

In turn, this sums up my year to date.

I have posts that I have not made public on this blog – will do so over the next few weeks.

Fair to say that 2019 is nothing like I expected, I am in a strange but safe place in life.

Christmas Eve I felt my self snap – I simply broke inside – my ability to bounce back, my spark, my life force was snuffed out. Since then I’ve declined rapidly, despite extensive and increased professional medical support and therapy.

I again find myself unemployed, unemployable and without the ability to even think of work – this has never happened to me before. I’ve always been a worker and thrown myself into jobs, careers and education to re-create myself. Driven by money, sense of self through profession and need to be needed – dreaming of work, working 50 – 60 hour weeks, 7 days a week. Starting at 6.30 in the morning and leaving at 6 pm at night to do more work.

I’ve burnt out, been burned professionally and lost trust, hope and faith in the corporate world.

Since the start of May, I haven’t worked and will not be returning to work again in the foreseeable future. I cannot even manage minimal tasks without sensory overload, I’ve reverted back to old behaviours which I try to keep in check.

The remainder of 2019 remains a mystery – one thing I do know is that I cannot even think of working or studying – I have an internal meltdown. Apparently I have a huge amount of therapy and work on myself that I cannot even fathom the enormity of what I’ve hidden for so many years.

To sum it up, my house, garden and cats are my safe haven for now and I keep stimulus to a minimum to the best of my ability.

My plan is to write, undertake therapy and nurture self through gardening indoor and outdoor plants and gardens and seek minimal communication with friends. It’s all too overwhelming.

Yet, I am safe, calm in this very second, and know that I have done the best I can.

Speak soon.

Love,

Me.

Isabella.

xxxxx

Mum’s Birthday

It’s mums birthday today.

Drove around the streets of less than salubrious suburbs I dragged myself up in reflecting on the past, houses and schools.

Song – You and Me by Penny and the Quarters – https://youtu.be/H8rumyup0Os

Song – You and Me – Penny and the Quarters

Happy birthday Mum – I miss you so much.

Love,

Me

Am I back?

My last post was over a year ago – when I thought I had it together and was getting going again.

And I was – and am.

Yet I am going through yet another downward spiral that has lasted for quite a few months this year …. the positive is that I am seeing the truth, reality and positive in all that is, has been and will be.

Life is like a merry-go-round – you go up and down and round and round – wondering when the ride will end, who will be there waiting for you and why aren’t you having a great time?

carousel

Looking back at life, I see stages, lifetimes and growth … I also see pain, denial and death.

Looking into the future I see the same – and I don’t know how I am going to keep going. Yet I must. I truly have no choice in the matter as I do see a future – a reason for living and continuing to strive for a better, healthier me.

That is it for now.

Isabella.

x

 

I am back!

I am back.

I hope.

It has been a long and hard road back to feeling like I can share my life and my story.

I have been struggling to see the point, to have hope or to even think that someone, anyone is interested in hearing my voice.

Anyone want a tall, cold glass of self pity? I have one for you to share.

Anyway.

That’s it for today – it’s been a big day of setting up blogs, reviewing this one and considering what I want to share here.

I hope you are all doing well – I have loved hearing from my little online community in the past and hope to catch up with you all again.

Isabella.

xxxx

carousel

Struggling to move ahead

I truly do not know what the future holds for me and it scares me …. even though I know no-one else knows either.

I have never been scared of the unknown in this way – I always felt like the master of my own destiny. However I feel I have lost the power in the last year since mum died.

Perhaps it has something to do with the realisation that I could not bring mum back after dying?? That I was completely and utterly helpless – her death was ultimately beyond my control. I remember pacing in my room upstairs with this rage and feeling of hopelessness and loss of control that I could not bring her back.

I have never felt so helpless in my life.

Nothing I could do, say or negotiate would bring her back to life.

And that devastated me.

I always had control. And then I didn’t.

This sense of powerlessness has been reinforced by my ex-partner Joey refusing to leave my home despite me begging, pleading, threateninig, negotiating and every other avenue I can think of. He simply refuses to leave until he is ready. Despite telling me he has not loved me for close to 2 years now. Despite having separate rooms 2 months after mum died. This situation has added to my sense of powerlessness and loss of control – I cannot even be respected enough for an ex boyfriend to move out. And no. I will not call the police as he is not violent, and I don’t want that horrible situation in my house. So I am stuck.

I’m living with someone I don’t want in my life.

And living without someone I dearly want back in my life.

Why am I not drinking. Every. Single. Day. I will never know. But I’m not and that’s a bonus.

Still crying

It is almost a year since mum died and I am still grieving. Still lost.

Without her, I feel like I have no direction, drive or desire to live beyond doing the minimum actions – work, clean the house, grocery shop and read.

I have realised that I a lot of my passion, drive, strength and focus from looking after her – in the last 3 years of her life most of my drive came from anger, hurt and frustration. I look back and there was a lot sadness and a sense of unfairness in how life had mistreated my beautiful mum and how sad and lonely she was.

Without her, I feel like I am nothing. Nobody. That I have no future beyond my reality now – which is, in many ways ok.

I have a new career I forged by turning my back on sales and management and studying for a year to enter a new, caring career in the welfare sector. I have a part-time job I mostly enjoy except for a couple of bitchy females. I have my gorgeous family home that I can afford to pay for on my own. I have a couple of friends who are wonderful. I have my health and slowly building a financial stability.

What I don’t have, and I continually focus on is a family to love me unconditionally, who call me or I can call them and say ‘Hi, I love you’. I have no one who loves me at all. I don’t have my mum to look after, or my nan to say ‘chin up, don’t get yourself all upset’. I have no family whatsoever. I miss them so much. I need them so much.

The irony is that out of everyone I know, I am perhaps the neediest out of anyone and am the one that needs family – I don’t have a partner, cannot have children, do not have siblings. I literally have no family. And that hurts.

I have always felt different, set apart  from the rest, and now even more so. Noone can truly understand the depths of loneliness I feel.

The last year has seen me have a breakdown for six months after mum died, endure a long and drawn relationship break down which is still ongoing as the guy won’t move out until he builds his house. So there is the constant reminder of the love I used to have and don’t have anymore.

I try to focus on the good, but at the moment my mind is swamped with sadness and that hurts.

I miss the old me – the fun loving, happy, passionate and driven girl who had dreams, desires and goals. Always on the go – now, I am lucky if I can find a reason to get out of bed.

Isabella.

xx

6 months today

It’s 6 months today since mum died and the pain is easing slightly but the loneliness continues without abating.

I miss her little face, her voice and her joy at always seeing me or answering the phone to me – she would always say “I was just thinking about you!”.

She always seemed to be thinking about me. As I did her.

I am still crying most days and try to keep myself busy and positive by thinking of the good things in my life, however it is hard when I am surrounded on a daily basis with a negative and depressed housemate and ex-lover. I feel as if my life has stopped some days, that there is nothing to look forward to, that this is my life and I just have to get used to it. That I will always be alone.

Loneliness and isolation have always been my issues in life – I have never felt safe, included or surrounded by people who love me – I have always stood slightly alone – the outsider looking in and observing. I find it hard to interact with people, to immerse myself in other people’s lives and become a part of theirs as I feel I have nothing to add. Yet I yearn for the connections, love, friendship and feeling of being part of a ‘tribe’.

Being an only child has not helped, or in fact probably created, that feeling of ‘being’ different … not to mention all the secrets I have carried to this day – when I share them, I feel over exposed, vulnerable and unsafe, so it is easier to not share.

So today, I will think of the positives in my life, my achievements in the last 3 years – particularly since mum died – and I will try to celebrate and be positive – because I have a lot to live for and be grateful.

Mostly, I am grateful to mum for raising me so strong and resilient – I am truly my mothers daughter and I am proud.

 

I have truly lost everything

Everything and everyone has gone.

I am now trying to rebuild everything.

Job. Career. Study. Friends. Life. Health.

I lost my mum, my beautiful mum nearly six months ago.

It is only now that I have started living again – some days I truly did not know how life could start being good again. Or if I wanted it to.

Since mum died, I lost my purpose, my reason and desire to do anything or to achieve anything other than getting out of bed … I was lucky to have a shower.

Now. I have finally gotten a job, in the welfare sector that I love.

I am starting to find me for the first time in 40 years.

All because I lost her.

What happened to my life?

What in hell happened.

I am standing in the ashes of my life ….. stunned and mute….

Everyone has gone – death has taken them from me – my entire family in the last 24 months have died.

My relationship is dead.

I don’t have a job anymore.

But I DO have the lovely option of studying and working as a volunteer working with people in need of the very basics – food and shelter.

So, although I am completely on my own, I am blessed. Truly blessed.

Life could be worse. Life has been worse. Life will be worse if I am not careful and take care of myself.

The story will be shown to you dear reader of this diary.

Just stick around and I will tell you in pieces.

Love, Me.

xxx

 

girl

Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria

Dodson ADHD Center –

Willliam W. Dodson, M.D., is a board-certified psychiatrist who has specialized in adults with ADHD for the last 22 years. A former faculty member at Georgetown University and the University of Colorado Health Sciences Center, Dodson is a Life Fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a member of ADDitude Magazine’s Medical Advisory Board.

Dr. Dodson uses a multimodal treatment for Adult and Teen ADHD.

Dr Dodson writes:

I have been specializing in adults with ADHD for 22 years.  I have found that some parts of the ADHD syndrome could only be talked about after the person had gotten to know me and see me as a person who liked them just as they were and didn’t see them as flawed or defective.  After our relationship developed over time and some trust was established, patients were confident enough to reveal a part of their emotional lives that they did their best to keep hidden.  This became such a universal experience that it is now the first trait I ask about on the checklist after the traditional 18 childhood criteria from the DSM IV…

  • “Question # 19:  For your entire life have you always been much more sensitive than other people you know to rejection, teasing, criticism, or your own perception that you have failed or fallen short.”

Over the last 20 years 99.9% of my ADHD patients have not just endorsed this criterion positively; they have underlined it, put stars by it, and added “This is my major problem!!!”

This is the definition taken pretty much verbatim from an old psychiatric textbook of a technical term called Rejection-Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD).  This, in turn, was the hallmark of an unofficial diagnosis called Atypical Depression.  In other words, clinicians only saw what they already knew (depression rather than ADHD) and continued to think in terms of mood but just said it was not typical as compared to other mood disorders.  The reason that it was not typical was that it was not a mood disorder, it was ADHD.

The term dysphoria is literally Greek for “difficult to bear”  which should give you some idea about how painfully your husband experiences your pointing out his short-comings no matter how helpful you try to be.

People with ADHD nervous systems often state that this RSD is the most disruptive aspect of ADHD in their adult lives.  They have found ways to manage the ADHD impairments in their academic and work lives.  It is the constant vulnerability to being “wounded” by anyone at any moment that continues to throw them into a tailspin without warning and then disrupt their lives for days with obsessive worry about “what did I do to make them hate me so much?”  It does not even have to be real rejection or criticism (although that is common enough in the lives of people with unrecognized and untreated ADHD).  Perceived criticism and withdrawal of love and respect is just as devastating as the real thing.  Rejection-Sensitive Dysphoria is often experienced as if it were a physical wound.  Patients will hunch over and clutch their chests as if they have just been stabbed with a spear in the chest as they recount episodes in which they have experienced RSD.  People tend to react in one of two ways.  If they internalize the pain they can instantaneously drop into a full Major Depression-like syndrome complete with suicidal thoughts and impulses.  The difference, of course is that unlike Major Depression which comes on over weeks to months for no identifiable reason the plunge of RSD is instantaneously complete and clearly triggered by some perceived rejection.  Because RSD is always triggered by some event and because the mood shift matches the nature of the trigger, the internalized RSD can be considered a normal mood in every way except its intensity.

The RSD can also be externalized.  This usually takes the form of a rage at the person or situation that wounded them so severely.  Luckily, this period of rage is usually expressed verbally instead of physically and passes relatively quickly (Dr. Tim Wilens refers to these sudden, short outbursts as a “bottle rocket temper”….fzzzt and it’s over for the ADDer although the rest of us are still getting up off the floor).  It should not be a surprise then that informal surveys of persons who are court-mandated to anger management classes due to “road rage” or domestic violence have found that 50% of both groups have previously undiagnosed ADHD.  The combination of neurologically based rejection sensitivity and impulsivity combine to produce a violent response before the ADDer can see it coming and gain control of the outburst.

Original article written and found: http://www.dodsonadhdcenter.com/rejection-sensitive-dysphoria/

Bar-khord. Between being and nonbeing.

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