Pieces of Me

My most recent diagnosis is Generalized Anxiety Disorder.  The arrhythmia that I have now is not consistent with any sort of actual heart problem but the cardiologist was able to tell that my heart rhythm increased at night the most (doing no activity) and could see palpitations that were sporadic all day.  My doctor has asked to see me tomorrow to discuss a plan of action....because apparently the GAD is bad enough now that I have been physically manifesting the worry (hence all the stress related illnesses).  So there it is...essentially the root cause of all my problems with a little bit of a genetic factor involved.

Anyone who knows me, knows this above all other diagnosis I could've received is the worst news on a personal level.  I'm sorry this is so depressing, I have written other (more pleasant) posts and have yet to finish them, today I am not thinking...or editing....I am just pouring it all out.  Something, apparently I need to do a lot more of without worrying what you out there think of it.  This has always been a sort of strange outlet for me but,  I have not used it to my full advantage.  Before the Canadian Weblog Award thing happened my posts were mostly about the goings-on of my family life...some were relatively entertaining but, mostly dry because I was worried about what you thought and how far to take it.  After the attention I received on this blog because of the awards it became an obsession to be perfect...the perfect writer, the funniest....the best.  I became very anxious about sitting down to write anything in case it wasn't good enough.  What I didn't realize is that it was always, and always will be good enough for me.  I do like that some people whether they are close to me or not take the time to peruse my blog, I like that some of you are invested in it.  So I've decided to continue after a month long hiatus with some new rules (or guidelines) for myself.   

I will write when I feel the need to....or when there is something worthwhile (to me) of writing.  If you are following me on Facebook as well, sometimes I will commit to write and then I don't.  The only piece of advice I have is to remember Sarah = in the moment, and then out of the moment.  My intentions are good but my execution is not always timely.

I will write like no one is reading.  This may become offensive, or depressing, or infuriating to some of you....I can get extreme and generally write when I am feeling really positive or really negative....I usually don't feel the need when I am on an even keel.  I urge you to not read it if you end up feeling that way, especially if you know me because my ups and downs are only a small part of who I am although it's when I feel I am most in tune with my thoughts (no matter how irrational or dramatic after the fact).  My blog is not generally a true reflection of who I really am....just how I am thinking at the time.

I will start using more curse words.  It's how I was brought up, it's how I think and it's hard to edit my train of thought when I need to search for words to replace them with.  As unintelligent as curse words can sometimes make me sound, my writing would be more honest using them the same way they appear in my internal dialogue.

Anyhoo, back to the GAD and I forgot earlier to say that my thyroid problem was never Grave's it is Hashimoto's Disease which I will write about in the future (but, I'm not making any promises haha).  I think it's a much better alternative to Grave's however so I am pleased with the diagnosis on that one.  I can't say I wished it was nothing because that would make me unmistakeably certifiable.  I am on a thin line enough with that one already.  Earlier I had written that this was the worst diagnosis for me...let me explain a little. 

Since I was a little girl I always heard my Dad call my mother crazy.  Being "crazy" was a bad thing, it made you weak, it made you pathetic, it made you expendable...dirty...and ugly.  He also called my half-brother's mother crazy.  Lots of people were "crazy" to him.  My fathers definition of crazy was essentially anyone who did the following (and not all at once):   Cried, got frustrated and then cried,
cried and then hyperventilated because they were pushed to extreme emotional limits, was depressed, slept in too long, felt overly sad about something, expressed pain when they were hurt physically or emotionally and you were really crazy if you ever talked about ending your own life...in fact you would then be taunted to actually go through with it and given a time limit to calm down before you were taken to Selkirk to be admitted.

Now, to you I may have just made my Dad out to be a total monster.  I assure you he is not.  He is a man that came from a different time, with a different set of rules.  He came from a Dad who was abusive, neglectful and spiteful.  He took care of himself for a great deal of his life...hard knocks so to speak.  He has learned to develop skin as thick as armour and for a period in his life I believe belittling anyone who showed emotion was the perfect way for him to gain the upper hand in a relationship and keep control in his life.  My Dad also had undiagnosed Hepatitis C for a major part of his adult life due to intravenous drug use.  This is not an excuse but, a definite factor in how he behaved.  We are in a much better place now, him and I and it as he becomes older and more humble and I become older and more mature we grow closer to finding that incredible bond we once shared when I was a young child and innocent and looked at life one day at a time through rose colored glasses....before the divorce shit storm happened which gutted that little girl.

It has been ingrained in me that having any sort of "in my head" related illness, disorder or syndrome is a weakness, a flaw, something to be ashamed of, something to be embarrassed by.  The first thought that popped into my head when the Dr. told me it was GAD was "well then I should just kill myself now because all this physical stuff is happening to me and I am making it all up.  Because I am crazy...just like my mother."  Secondly the thought "I should've never had a child, now he's going to end up just like his mother....how selfish of me."

I don't actually think my mom is crazy, I don't think I ever did.  I heard that a lot though when I was younger and troubled that I was "crazy" just. like. my. mother.  Everything bad about me is just. like. my. mother.  I don't know if you can even understand how fucking confusing that was....because at that time I felt loved by my mother and that was wrong because I HAD TO love my father.  Those two things could not co-exist.  If I loved my mother or felt loved by her it meant I didn't love my father.  This may not of been a problem if I didn't hold my father on the highest pedestal there was.

Yes, I have "daddy" issues.  It's fairly apparent isn't it?  The thing is that I don't blame him at all.  I still love him and hold him on the highest pedestal there is (don't tell him that though).  The problem is that I have never been able to get over the dark times, those contradictions, that push and pull feeling that I had for such a long time...I just managed to internalize it and the fight continued inside of me even when I didn't realize it was still there.

I see the Doctor tomorrow...she is going to want to put me on antidepressants.  Hopefully she knows me well enough to understand that I have been down that road more times than I will admit and it always leads to a dead end.  This time, I will refuse them.  There has to be another way, I have to learn to cope....I will need help.  I don't know how to change.   Crazy will always be in the back of my mind now, I will stay up and worry about it later....because I don't know another way.  This is who I am.


- The St.Godard Brood Keeper