Undone

I am going for an interview tomorrow. I am trying not to say anything on facebook, because well, I don’t want to cause a stir with my employer who spies on my facebook account. If the man is reading my blog well… 😛 none ya bidness MAN!

Anyway.

I’m pretty excited about it. An interview, is just an interview, but it makes me feel marketable. I hope something positive comes of it.

We went tonight to roast marshmellows and hot dogs. Delicious. Katie loved the river, and slipped in a little bit. but she didn’t get too wet. I also got off work early to go to my doctor’s appointment. It was miserable. I took the two kids, and the doctor was running an hour behind. UGH! You know what is miserable, two kids who are super grumpy and need naps trapped in a small room with a few books and one toy that the older one won’t share. That is what I call hell. Anyway. i told the doctor about my dreams that seem to just be false memories, that I swear up and down that they have happened. he asked if they were hallucinations, and I said no. He seemed nonplussed. I am much more concerned for my sanity. I don’t think all mentally unhealthy people are as easy to detect as a paranoid schizophrenic. But still. I think maybe I’ll go to psychiatrist, for all of my mental health needs. I am finding that i’m having a hard time trusting people. My paranoia is increasing. I feel tense and anxious when it’s unnatural. I told the doctor today that I shouldn’t take wellbutrin, I remember I got taken off of it really fast as a teen, but I couldn’t remember why. He still seemed insistent. There is nothing I dislike more than a doctor who is unwilling to listen to my needs. DO NOT LIKE. Anyway. Off to look for Psychiatrists in the area.
Derringer Meryl [what what!] Out

I hate dreaming. especially on the medication I’m on. it’s like being awake and asleep blur together, and I’m not sure what has happened. Last night I dreamed I decided to up and leave and go to boston, and my entire family (meaning my parents and brothers and sisters in law) were in favor of this. I remember that I thought it was too cold in Utah, and I apparently thought that Boston was going to be some sort of tropical island. It was bizzare. There were some under currents to the dream that made it increasingly more disturbing, but I choose not to revisit those.

Mom has suggested that I apply for a blogging job. I’m not sure If I’m coherent enough for that, but I figure I should try for it anyway. It’s for a “getting out of debt” blog. I’m not as deep into debt as the average american, but I think I may have an angle that works. Also I’m younger than they’d like, so i’m already fighting on that. Anyway. It’s something I’d like to do. Write for a living. Or I guess, write for money you know? They say writing is like being a prostitute… first you do it for fun, then you do it for those you love, and then you end up doing it for money. HAHA, clever.

As I mentioned I was reading through my writings from college. I find myself just staring at them a little. I want to write more. I find myself struggling with expressing the images in my head. They are beautiful, and breath taking. Vivid and enthralling. Sometimes, they are just scary. Mostly… mostly just beautiful. Sometimes i read what I write and I try to remember what I was feeling, but can’t. 🙁 It’s sad for me. I want to recapture things like that… I was very depressed in high school, but I had passion. I felt like the sun was on the horizon, that the darkest hour was right before dawn.

Now I feel like I’ve shut myself in the closet and shut out the light. On many, very real levels, I hate myself. I do not think I deserve things. I don’t deserve to be happy. I am a thing to make people happy. I literally do not consider myself to be human. I dont’ know why… I don’t know why I’m like this. But it’s damaging. It’s a horrible way to live, it’s a horrible way to think. I feel like by not saying it for so long I’ve allowed myself to really believe it. Why i’ve deprived myself of so much. I have been thinking myself a healthy person when I’m not. No worries my friends and family. I am currently on medication, that clearly (unfortunately) is not working well, but monday I”ll discuss it with the doctor, and we’ll try again. I do not believe that depression is something to be ashamed of. I am always saddened when I find out someone has been silently struggling. I want to help people, I want people to see me and know I’ve been there too. Feeling like there is NO reason to be sad, but still hopelessly sinking into a dark hole. Wishing you were dead, just so you wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore. I have been (and I am) Suffering from a Major Depressive Episode. It is HARD for me to be out there, but the fact is, i don’t have anyone to pull me out like I did in High School. As much as my husband loves me (and he does) he cannot spend every minute of the day plotting on how to cheer me up. I know my mom worked really hard when I was in high school, trying to keep me on an even kilter. It was rough on her. I’m sure of it. I had good friends that helped her too. I feel sad that I’ve regressed so much to that girl.  In some ways, I am worse. Luckily for me, I haven’t thrown up from the stress, which I did in High school a couple of times. I miss the luxury of being a teenager. When you could just shut the world out. Go home and stay in your room and cry if you wanted to. Funny thing, you can’t do that when you’re an adult. You cant’ just say “Sorry I’m not coming to work today, or for the next week. I’m going to sit in my bed and eat food until I feel better, or until my skin becomes part of my sheets. Don’t dare me, I’ll do it.” Or for that matter, stay in bed because you feel so catatonic that the idea of talking to anyone at all seems impossible.

New to this bout of depression is Paranoia. (Funny Enough, Flag Pole Sitta is playing in the background right now) I’ve been… attentive before to protecting myself. But I have paranoid delusions. That people are talking about me. That people want to kill me, even people I should trust. Scott would say I’m being over dramatic. I am not. I fear it. It consumes my thoughts. i think about it a lot more than I would consider natural.

Anyway, going to go to bed. I have a nice weekend laid out for me… whoo!

Derringer Meryl [nice relaxing weekend] Out

or maybe I’m turning the page….
I crave closure. Not having it, drives me a little crazy. It’s just a lesson of not having what you want I guess. Today was my first day turning a completely new page. I thought a lot about it. I feel like it’s all completely inexplicable. I’ve been here before. I wonder why I can’t eek out the words I want to say. Why I can’t peek inside myself to see what is making me destructive like this. It’s very depressing. I am normally very in touch with my emotions, and lately I have been shocking myself, things out of left field, things very unlike myself are beginning to surface, and I wonder why. I try and peer inside to see where this is all coming from, and I am lost.I have been feeling for months that I didn’t know who I was anymore, but it seems to have really came to a head recently.

I once wrote something for my english class, I’ll have to dig it up. It was all about who I was. I wonder how much of it’s true. I’m going to go search for it… I’ll update again when I find it. 😉

ETA: apparently my files are hidden, but I’m reading my teacher’s notes from college about my work, and now that i”m older and less “I know everything about writing, because I write all day all the time, and I’m the awesome-est writer ever” I’m thinking her advice is good. I want to start tinkering with my old poems again. I have over 300 poems. I kept nearly everything I’ve ever written, I submitted it for a lot of critique, I didn’t write much in college, because I could just re-use what I wrote in High School. And people were a lot more honest. I want to work on it again. I want my 300 little babies to be published.. in a real book. I want to be a real poet. I”m not Maya Angelou or anything, but I’d love to write and have people read it. Maybe I’ll self-publish and send one to Oprah 😉

Derringer Meryl {Mission: Find Meryl} Out

I keep thinking about recent events in my life, I will say this month (now it’s almost over) has really been one of the worst ever for me. Which considering good and happy things happened this month, makes it sad really. I’m quite happy that Pepper was born this month. Little pepper, and her cuteness. 🙂

People, in general, think they are special. This isn’t true, not really. I mean you’re unique, but even that uniqueness is not that unique since everyone else is unique too. But just because you’re unique doesn’t mean things won’t still happen to you in the same patented way they do to everyone else. I guess I’m saying, you’re not the exception, you’re the rule. Somehow people (and i include myself here) think “Sure, that’s how it was for someone else, but i”m going to be able to do this, and nothing bad will happen.” They stare the universe in the face and say “I’m going to do what I want, and this will be the outcome.” Which is funny. We think we get to chose what happens when we jump off a cliff, you’re not going to walk safely down like there are stairs, you’re going to fall dummy.

And some people stand on the edge of a cliff, knowing if they step out, that they will fall, and they will crash, and there will be pain… but they want to feel the fall. For some sort of rush… It can’t be explained. People think, that they can walk the line, walk a tight rope, and not fall to their deaths. And sure there are people who can. Most people are not those people.

this month, I learned (yet again) to not stare the universe in the face and tell it what to do. It won’t listen, and you’ll end up being taught that in a painful way. You can only choose your consequences by choosing your actions.
Derringer Meryl [I keep my eyes wide open all the time] Out

here again.

Sorry these titles just pop into my head as i start blogging.

Life has been hectic. Amazing and horrible.  Mostly the second one, but as of yesterday (being friday, not Saturday) I have started to feel a lot better. I don’t think it’s my medication, I think I have just… let go. I have a hard time remembering to not take on more than I should. That no one (but myself usually) expects me to be perfect and to do all these amazing/wonderful things and … I over extend myself a lot, which causes problems in any situation.
I would say “don’t worry about me” but that is a stupid thing to say. So i guess something better to say is, Thank you for worrying about me. I appreciate it. I realize that I’m very dramatic, and it’s hard for me to simply say the things I need to, but… I am trying to be a happier person, and to find some peace within myself. I also plan on going to the doctor in the next few weeks to discuss my medication. The side effects and it’s lack of improvement in me, is enough for me to want to kick it to the curb and get back to Zoloft. I’m not nursing anymore, so why not? At least I’ll be on something that works again!

Since church is at 9 am, I should probably sleep (Audrey too, she’s Scooting now, and has scooted herself from the main part of our basement over to where our computer is. Little butt scooter. She’s a dear heart.

I love that she has the name she does. it just seems like such an optimistic name for such a happy light hearted girl.

Derringer Meryl [scooting] out