Keep keeping on

Some days I feel like I’m okay. That this experience has toughened my soul and nothing can break me like losing them did. Other days I’m not sure how much more I can take. Between the unkind world around me and the ache in my heart I feel defeated and weakened inside. I feel empowered to take the life that lays before me and turn this mess of raw emotion and my broken heart into something beautifully reborn and brand new. I begin my spiritual journey full of pep and positivity to be broken down once again by my imaginary memories in my mind. I envision them as small children maybe 3-5 so happy and full of life. My happiness and eagerness to push forward quickly dissipates. I’m sucked back into the darkness. Waiting in that dark, cold, lonely room for the shot that ends their short lives. 
How do you escape the demons in your mind? I truly want to be happy again. Over the last 10 years since my Nana died I feel as if I’ve worked so hard to rebuild myself. I’ve fought to become the person I used to be. I feel as if with every triumph I’m presented with another obstacle. I fall into a self hatred phase and begin to blame myself for all the bad in my life. The unavoidable, nothing I can do about it things that just happen, some how in my mind become something I could have avoided or stopped. It’s a vicious cycle that is hard to escape. 
I recently began yoga and meditation which in the beginning of battling my depression helped a lot. I know it’s just the start but I’m not noticing results as fast as I want which is making it harder to stay focused and continue with it. I find myself dreading going into work again. You can’t control your environment in society. You can’t make people be kind of positive. I find myself getting sucked into the bleakness around me. My happiest time being the walk of solitude to the place where I eat lunch and the after school bell. I consider taking a leave to just focus on me and rebuilding my happiness and positive energy. 
My emotions are like a ping pong ball bouncing from wall to wall. Up and down, high to extreme low. On the verge of tears with any talk of pregnancy or babies. Fitting back my true emotions with my well rehearsed fake smile. I want so badly to feel as happy as I was the day I saw that one word “pregnant”! 
I have so much to be looking forward to. My best friend is getting married, I was asked to be her bridesmaid, I got into a program for school that I’ve been wanting to get into for over a year, I raised enough money to cover my first test to see where The blockage that is causing the ectopic pregnancies is located; however, I’m so unhappy. I’m fearful of getting the test done and wasting my donations on being told that I am blocked and there is nothing they can do to remove it. Once again my mind goes to the worst possible answer. Sometimes I feel as if I brought this upon myself, always fearing if I was infertile and if I could ever get pregnant. Now my worst fear is in a way coming true. Yes I can create life, but I can’t keep it and protect it. 
I’m looking forward to summer vacation. My first spiritual journey began to flourish during my summer vacation I believe last year. I have long days to myself to really focus on the me and the person I want to become. I can reconnect with my emotions and how to handle the good and extinguish the bad. I’m able to be one with Mother Earth and embrace all the beauty she has to offer. I’m hoping that’s all I need this time again. Just a little R&R to get back on the right path.
Sincerely Me

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Surviving Through The Madness

Surviving Through The Madness

Rocking back and forth on an uncertain cliff. “Should I give up or continue the good fight?” I preach words of fighting through the darkness and just faking it until you make it, but in the end do I really believe it myself? How easy would it be to just throw my hands in the air and bow out with my dignity still intact? These are things I ask myself everyday.

Recently I was approached by a long lost friend to hear out a gifted individual who helped impact her life in a very positive way. I was a little skeptical but still wanted to give it a chance. I’m feeling broken and lost. Unable to muster up the energy to believe my own lies of happiness. I need a map through this dark hole I’ve found myself in and if this girl can help me I’m willing to give it a shot.

With a little bit of skepticism and a small amount of hope I began to ask my questions, afraid of the answers I’d get in return. The first response threw me for a loop. I was shaken to my core. I knew that things would need to change. I can’t continue on this path. But how? How do I find the light when there is so much darkness around me? I used to be able to pretend enough to actually believe it myself. It got so good at faking it that I was no longer acting, that I was actually happy. This time is different, this feels much worse.

There has been only one time in my life when I felt this low, the day that my Nana passed away. The feeling of hopelessness set it immediately. No words could fix the pain that was radiating through my soul. I wanted to die. I wanted to be with her. When people speak of a “broken heart” it’s a true statement. My heart literally felt broken. I just knew that if the doctors would give me an x-ray that it would prove I had a hole in my heart where my Nana had once been. Well it is the same now. I feel physically weak. I barely sleep, force myself to eat, forgetting things that I should easily remember. I feel lost. Like I’m in a nightmare and I can’t wake up.

As I pry myself out of bed in the mornings I whisper to myself, “you can do this” “you are strong” “you have to make it through just one more day” soon enough that one more day turns into another….and another…..and another. I allow myself ten minutes to cry and let it all out so I can continue on with my day. Thoughts of those sweet angels frequent my brain and I’m filled with intense sadness. I excuse myself to the restroom and allow myself to weep. The work day ends and I return home. I’m angry by this point. Mad at the parents who have children that they neglect. Mad at people who don’t understand my sadness. Mad at people who have the audacity to try to hurt others. I’m just angry. I don’t want to talk, to engage. I feel like I’ve paid my dues for the day.

At the beginning of my journey I set out to find the old me. To “manifest a little mess” which if you haven’t been following my blog, is my nickname since I was a child. I wanted to find the old me that had been absent for quite some time. I found her. Life was good. Really good! But somewhere along the way she vanished again. I was rereading past blogs trying to see what I did different the last time around. Trying to find some sanity through all my madness.

I’m going to rediscover my love for meditation. I remember just drifting off into my own world and returning zen and at peace. Lately the thought of it makes me irate; however, I know I need it. I need to tap back into my spiritual being. I’ve become so cynical and negative in all this. As much as I can’t even fathom the idea now I know I need to get back to the gym. Working out always makes me happy in the long run. It’s me time, but me time that I can’t just sit and cry during. My plan of action is to attempt making time for yoga in the morning before I go to work again. In some type of grand illusion to get me centered and rejuvenated for the chaos at work.

I know life is tough right now. Things are not easy. As much as I want to quit my job, give up on school, distance myself from my friends, become a recluse…… I know that isn’t going to help me through this. I need my work to distract me and keep some sort of normalcy going on. I need my friends to lift me up when my legs give out beneath me. For now I’ll continue to “fake it till I make it” in high hopes of actually making it through all this. Just bare with me. Love me a little louder, hug me a lot tighter, and be patient with me. I’m trying as hard as I can muster.

The day after I gave up….

The day after I gave up….

There are moments in your life, tragic, unseen events that grab hold of you and knock the wind out of you. Moments that make you feel as if you can’t go on. The day after I gave up was the day after my 2nd ectopic pregnancy, the sun was shining and I was pissed. “What kind of sick joke is this?” I thought to myself. I stepped outside to grab my pills trying to ease the pain. The air was so smooth, the birds were chirping, everyone was smiling and I wanted to die. 

The day after I gave up we went out to distract ourselves. We visited family had small talk, laughed, and I excused myself to go wallow in my own misery in the bathroom. I looked at this beautiful painting my finances grandmother had painted and wanted to end it right then and there. We went to get our favorite vegan meal and I prayed it would leave a bitter taste in my mouth. As I waited for our food I harped on how long it was taking. I looked across the way and saw a lesbian couple cooing over their baby. Resentment set in and hurt took over my heart. Why is it that they can have a perfectly healthy baby and I lost two? 

The day after I gave up I had nonexistent memories of our sweet girls running on the beach with their father, skim boards in tow. Laughing with beautiful dirty blonde hair and sun kissed olive tan skin. Waving and smiling at me to watch them as they skated off into the ocean waves. 

The day after I gave up we went to a beautiful overlook of Berkeley. We’ve been there time and time again with no success of seeing SanFran in the distance, but the day after I gave up we did. The lights lit up the cities and you could see the spectacular designs on the bridge. 

The day after I gave up my inbox was flooded by my aunts and cousins. By my friends that loved me dear. I was embraced with all this love and support. Yet I still felt alone. 

The day after I gave up I held onto all the things people had been telling me during this pregnancy. “This time it’s going to be okay” “you don’t have to worry” “it’s all in your head” 

The day after I gave up I told myself it was okay to let go. People will continue on and understand why you did. You will see your babies and be the mother to them you didn’t have the chance to be.

The night after I gave up I layed my head down and tried to fall asleep. I woke up to the sound of my love crying while he slept. I stroked his head and tried to comfort him softly without waking him. His breathing became a song along with the thump thump of his heart beat. It drifted into a lullaby as if to help me fall back to a peaceful slumber.

The morning I decided to fight the sunlight shinned through my window and I was greeted with a kiss from my love. My heart was sad but hopeful. The pain remained but I had a new look on life. Once again I held dear to the people who reached out and loved me through the tragic experience and told myself how I wouldn’t want them to feel the pain of loss as I am feeling it now. The morning I decided to fight I was told that my babies mattered and we’re shining down on me being looked after by my Nana. The morning after I decided to fight I was reminded of who I am and what I come from. A family of women who are survivors. Cancer, lupus, autoimmune diseases, drug addictions, and no infant loss. The morning i decided to fight was the morning I started fully living again.

Fake It Till You Make It…..again 

“You’re fine” “Everything is okay” “Just breathe” I tell myself as I see the beetle emerge from my freshly cleaned clothes. Any other day I would have completely lost my shit, maybe even thrown all the clothes away, and spiral into an anxiety induced itching frenzy; However, today I’m deciding to breathe. I reach for a shirt hung up in my closet and take the basket to the laundry to re wash it. One win for Marissa, anxiety zero. I go about my day as nothing ever happened. The next morning me and my fiancé have a nice day planned of beach festivities. It’s the Saturday before I go back to work so we want to get out and spend time together at our favorite place. I go into my clothes hamper once again to find my baiting suit. I pull it out with force because it’s stuck under a heap of graphic tees and cut off capris. I feel something crawling on my arm as I dislodged the suit. I look down and it’s a spider. Anxiety and panic start to send me into overdrive but I breathe. “You’re fine, everything is okay.” I tell myself. I walk the spider outside and remain calm. “Don’t ruin this day.” 
The day was amazing. The sun was shining, the sand was warm, and bub was content with the crowd. The day couldn’t have been better. After the beach we headed to our usual vegan restaurant where I over stuffed myself on foods I couldn’t just go to a Denys and eat back home. I felt like I could burst. People have been monitoring my eating and mentioning things like portion control which has got me in a tail spin of calorie counting and over analyzing my eating habits. Which I know shouldn’t affect me because since going vegan I’ve done nothing but lose weight no matter how much I eat. You shouldn’t ever comment on how a person recovering from an eating disorder eats. It can send them right back to where they started. Which is what all this food was starting to do to me. “Marissa, you haven’t eaten all day, you’re fine.” I try to tell myself. But I decided that would be it for the day depending on what the scale said when I got home. “I can eat veggies Sunday if increased. Summer is approaching. You don’t want to look like a wha…” “Stop!” I tell myself. I don’t want to ruin this day. 
On the drive home I just wasn’t feeling like myself. I felt very anxious and panicky. Obsessing over things that I couldn’t control. The glare of the sun, that I had loved before, the speed of traffic, colors of vehicles….things that I usually don’t worry about. I tried to breathe. But the breath wouldn’t come. When I walked through the front door I was overwhelmed with the heaping mounds of clothes I felt like I needed to wash. I decided I would take all my clothes to the laundromat. I thought of my car and how it would need to be cleaned before I could load my clothes in. I could feel myself spiraling wanting so bad to stay grounded. The cracks where my vents are, the scuffs on my walls. The color of my carpet, the dishes in the sink, the scum in the shower, everything started flooding in. I broke. My fiancé asked if I was okay. I began to tell him all the things running through my mind. As I started he interrupted in hopes of helping me not spiral out of control but i was already to far gone. His voice changed in my head. No longer his. It was like one of those whistles that make dogs cringe. I couldn’t take it. I just needed him to be quiet. A tiny piece of my brain was telling me to calm down. Everything was okay, just breathe, but I couldn’t. I screamed shut up and ran to the bathroom. In hopes of calming down I took off my shirts to enter the shower. “Stop! It’s not clean! You’ll just get dirty!” I tell myself. I grab the Ajax and rag and start scrubbing. My fiancé comes in and tells me this isn’t normal as he tries to take the rag from my hands. In a sobbing desperate final plea I beg him to leave me alone, I just need to shower. He reminds me that I had already showered. I try to explain to him but by now all logic is gone. I just need to get clean, I need the itching to stop I cry. He finally leaves me to my cleaning. 

As I finish washing the Ajax from the freshly scrubbed walls I start to feel a sense of relief. I step in and scrub my hair, body, under my nails, and I’m finally free. 
Anxiety and panic attacks are something I deal with everyday. They haven’t gotten this bad in such a long time. I reached out to my tribe and was reminded of how far I’ve come and received so much love and support my heart could explode. One of my favorites is to just dance. Dance it all away. When I feel the emotions coming to just feel it. Stay with it until there is emptiness and remain in it. I am every day battling something but I am not alone. I have to remind myself of that when I’m at my weakest. For those of you that suffer from anxiety you might also have some obsession like I do. During this time it’s hard to make the emotions and feelings stop. A friend told me to embrace it. Look at myself in the mirror and don’t break eye contact. Allow the feelings to come. Breathe it out. Cry, scream, but don’t break the gaze. Remind myself that I am loved. The commonly talked about “Fake it till you make it”. I’ve learned some amazing self help and coping techniques. I know when I’m going through it that it’s hard to remember them, but I know that I just if I want to avoid days like Saturday. I am in recovery, I am loved, I am good enough. Peoples opinions are just that, theirs to have but not to affect me or define who I am. Anxiety 1 Marissa 1 and feeling strong.

Sincerely Me

When I’m Manic……

Who are you? I ask myself as I gaze into my smudged bathroom mirror. Who will you be today? I’ve been living with manic depression for as long as I can remember. Diagnosed when I was 18. My moods have pretty much always been the same. Irrational, erratic, irritable highs with somber, suicidal, depressed lows. Medicated for about 3 years total. I prefer to manage my shit in holistic ways. I carry around healing crystals to try to combat the demons on my back. I meditate when I’m feeling overloaded. When all else fails I schedule an appointment with my psych. It’s been working fine until lately.
Having bipolar disorder isn’t something I think about often. It’s just apart of me, I’ve adjusted. It’s not until days like the days I’ve been having that I realize I have bipolar disorder. As most of you know I’ve been trying to have a baby and the journey has been extremely stressful and draining. My body is feeling broken. I feel inadequate with every failed attempt. It doesn’t help that this time last year I was pregnant with our sweet little bird Elowyn. It’s definitely taking a toll on my emotions. It’s taking more energy to actually get up and go to work every morning, crying and falling apart on the car ride there, pulling myself together before I leave my car. I’m drinking more then usual, I’ve poured myself into my writing and the gym to try to keep me busy. It’s the in between manic depression that has me leaning more towards getting back on medication. It’s hard to be happy one minute and triggered by a beautiful blue sky the next. I feel like I’m on a roller coaster of emotions with more lows then highs. 
During these times I have been relying on my friends. They have really been a great support during it all. I feel like I can tell them how I feel and the support is amazing. One of my guy friends who knows nothing about females and how we make babies even asked me how ovulation tests work. It made me feel very supported. During times like this support and positivity is much needed. 
When you are going through things like this no matter what you have be it bipolar disorder or just the everyday stress of life, I urge you to love yourself through it all. Let people know how you feel no matter how crazy you might sound. It helps to be your unfiltered self. Let them know what you need help with and how they can support you. Meditation is a very helpful thing. I notice that even five minutes before I start my day can even make a difference. Also if you need medication don’t be afraid to ask your health care provider. I’m going to increase my meditation and also I’ve ordered some healing crystals to help get me through it all. Hoping for a better month full of self care and love to help me push through the depression and mania.
Sincerely Me

New Year New Me… I’m basic

With the approaching new year I heard squawking about New Years resolutions and goals. I told myself that this year that wouldn’t be me. Setting goals I had no intention of even attempting to achieve. This year I was just going to continue with the tools I had learned from my Evolution training in October and just keep nurturing myself. It wasn’t until an incident, I’m just going to avoid talking about in order to keep the negativity and drama at bay, had happened that I knew it was time to make a resolution for myself. 
I always speak of letting people go and moving on, but I have a habit of accepting any back handed apology and taking it as sincere. Deep down I know it’s a relationship with an expiration date sitting and spoiling until the next incident arises, yet I continue to let the person or people back in. So that is why I need to set an intention to not allow this anymore. If someone decides to walk out of my life I’m not going to ball and chain them to stay. I need to let them go and also decide for myself that I won’t be that doormat any longer. No matter how dramatic and theatrical the apology might be. 
So here it goes 2017 be good to me. I’m still a tender soul that needs nurturing. I’ll need guidance along the way and strength to stay away from the people that bring me down. 
This past year I’ve lost a lot of friendships I thought would last a lifetime, but lord have I gained so much. I was talking to my fiancé about how I used to be 5 years ago and he agrees I’ve found my old self again. I’m able to fully love people again with both feet off the ground. It’s helped me strengthen and deepen a lot of my friendships. I actually have best friends again. People I feel comfortable telling my deepest darkest secrets with no fear of judgement. It’s a great feeling. 
I’m happy for what I’ve had to experience these past years to help me truly and deeply appreciate who I am today. I won’t lose her again.