After 6 months, Im still struggling. Week 1, & 2

The past month has been a ride. Sometimes it was a Joy ride, and other times it was A hell ride. I intend to explain five weeks of time that seemingly passed unnoticed by anyone other that my close family. I am, and always be, truthful about my situation and strugles. I almost didn't log on to here, afraid of what someone would think of me. That's just not how i roll. 




WEEK 1: FEBRUARY 8TH - FEBRUARY 15TH


I was feeling amazing. What an incredible six months I had! Growing and learning about myself, healing and opening up. I was right on track. My first day back to work was cake. It was a friday and i worked my butt off. I was there to work, not to make friends. Saturday the 10th was my second day. Again, I was there to work. At around 10am I got a call from my husband. Talula was throwing up. TRIGGER! I immediately went into panic mode. I tried deep breathing, self talk, and any thing else i could think of to distract my mind. I went back to what I was doing and tried to give it all of my attention. It did not work. Tears were now streaming down my face. No one could see me like this. So weak and fragile; freaking out. Where had those six months gone? Was i not working on myself for such a long period away? No one could see. I walked past my boss and not looking said I had to go. I kept on walking. Next thing I know im being called up to the office. I was out of control at this point. They said I was rude. It probably seemed that way but not my intention. I explained...The questions kept coming and i was backed up against the wall.  Just then a little gesture triggered my already buzzing mind. I flipped a lid. The pent up anger, anguish, and emotion of the previous six months came flying out of my mouth. I was shaking and crying a raising my voice. It was not good. Not in any way, shape, or form. I went to the rest room to catch my breath. I couldn't stop the crying. I made it home with the help of my friend. One and a half days. Thats all the work i could handle. The rest of the days passed with a cover of guilt and shame. I slept, isolated, and harmed myself. Back at the bottom. No, below that.




WEEK 2: FEBRUARY 15TH - FEBRUARY 22ND


This week was hell. I had police knocking on my door twice, an ER visit, a psych evaluation, and 24/7 watch. I hated it. I was so unhappy with myself. I felt like i failed as a human, and as a mom. I saw doctors and therapist. It did not seem to help. I was getting irritated that I had to be followed everywhere. The only alone time i got was about an hour when I yelled at my mom to leave. She threatened to call the police. I had no idea how that would benifit. I tried to convince her I was ok, and after about two hours of back and forth, she left. Seeing a therapist once a week was not helping. I was still down, still harming myself, and still mad at myself. A vicious circle. My mother called around and tried to see if there was any kind of inpatient program I could get into. I needed to be surrounded by healing vibes and someone professional to talk to 24/7. I needed to learn coping skills. She found a place in Beaverton that was highly recommended. I packed my bags just in case they admitted me. By 6 o'clock I was officially a patient at Cedar Hills Hospital: Mental Health and Chemical Dependency Care.