Why do I get too emtional?

Hello Everyone! To my faithful blogging buddies and the occasionals that stop by I would like to ask your forgiveness on how long it has taken me to write this blog. My computer was down (still is) and I have bronchitis. Please keep stopping by, though.

What I would like to talk about to today is my emotional reactions! I don’t know if it’s because I “stuff” my feelings, I am an overly passionate person, or if it has something to do with my mental illness. I can totally see the stuffing of emotion. Most of the time, in life, when something bothers me I don’t show it. This causes me to feel abused by people when they don’t even know they are hurting me. I really need to speak up! I know a lot of my followers know what DBT is (and if you don’t I can do a blog on that). Anyway, I been through it now, I believe, seven times. In short it teaches a person to express their emotions and do what is best for them, not the other person. However, it does it in such a way that you are getting heard not criticizing someone. I sit in DBT and everyone says I know it like the back of my hand. I just have to put it into practice. One of the reason I can see this happening is because when I don’t say anything it builds and builds, finally just blowing up. My body can’t take all that stored emotion. It’s not healthy. I think what I need to do is ask God to give me courage to speak up. Will you all pray for me to do that?

I can also see it being because I am a passionate person. When I love, I love with my whole heart. When I take on cause, I see it to the end. I don’t help someone half way. I can still remembering being a little girl and balling my eyes out because my parents’ friends told me point blank animals don’t have a soul (I am not here to argue that so don’t write me about animals and souls). Anyway, I was so crushed. I thought the whole world dependent on the fact that they believe me that my little doggies were going to heaven. I can say that I have grown a lot because just a year ago I saw the same couple, now in their sixties, on a day trip with my parents. This sixty something year old couple has grown close to us over the years and I feel like they are my grandparents which is why I came with. However, I think they like to argue with whoever, wherever, and they said point blank to my face that Obama was a communist (again this is to illustrate a point, my blog is not political so please don’t make that your focus). You know what I did? I just looked at the two of them and said that I plead the fifth (which is freedom not to comment). I didn’t feel like they are going to get half of America to not reelect Obama. They are just two older people that are very much loved by my family. It did hurt, and learning from what I just wrote in my pervious paragraph, I should have said how it hurt me. Not anything to do with Obama, but that they would attack a certain political figure because they know it would hurt me. However, maybe because I didn’t say anything is why they didn’t know they were hurting me. So I guess I answered my first question about if it was because I was “stuffing” it or being passionate. It seems the two are tied together.

Now about my mental illness. Why I can see this is because I just had a toxic conversation with my Mom. Before I was diagnosed with schizophrenia, I could just yell back at her and get all my feeling out, but today I cried. However, as I am writing this I am wondering is yelling really all that much better then crying. I do have to tell you all that early in my diagnosis when I would get in fights with my Mom, the crying would turn into me wanting to hurt myself. That’s just not right. My Distress Tolerance Skills (see I use some of my DBT) helps me to calm down once the moment passes so I don’t stay in emotion mind. I am just wondering if yelling is all that good either. I mean what if I didn’t carry a diagnosis? What if I graduated my first college with my B.S. in genetics going on all the way to get my PhD, married my “dream man,” and had already popped out a couple kids. Would when one of my kids did something inappropriate, would it be appropriate for me to scream at my children? Now, I know some of you are parents and I know that is very proper to raise your voice to a child. However, discipline and going “nuts” with an emotional scream feast are two very different things.

Maybe this gets to another point? Maybe it’s how I was raised. To live in a pretend world where you’re pretending to be happy until it gets too much and then you scream or cry! Mixed with my mental illness and the fact that I am passionate doesn’t not do well for me “stuffing” my emotion. Courage. Let’s try that.

My soulmate

A Man in My Mist
by Amanda Robin

My Lord, I don't know
I saw a man today
Just like you gently
Whispered in my ear
That I would find.

My Lord, I don't know
This man had a honey
Soft voice,
Beautiful hands,
Nice hair
(always loved hair),
And was kind,
Spiritual,
And sweet.

My Lord, I don't know
But he was right where
You said he would be.

My Lord, I don't know
Because I am trembling
Like a leaf.
Scared to dream,
Scared to believe,
And Scared I am wrong.

My Lord, I don't know
But you know
So please give me
Your wisdom,
Guidance,
and Patience
In the this delicate
Matter.

I love you God
Your servant,
Beloved

Who do we indetify with?

Maybe this comes on the heals of the Superbowl. Many Americans identify themselves as football fans. I know some of my reader are not from the United States, but every country has some sort of sport that they feel connected to! Many of my readers are religious and we identify ourselves as Christian. Another group of my readers are very talented and identify themselves are artists. Anyway, I think society has us put ourselves in little groups.

What I want to know is there such a group as mentally ill people? One of my favorite therapists, who is remember now through a memorial fund she set up for the board I am on, said, "Remember you all are not mentally ill people. You are people who happen to have a mental illness!" It's so easy, though, to go to group therapy, go to sheltered work, and then go home to an apartment program for the mentally ill. I have lived that life from 2005 to 2006 and I just wanted to scream.

People sometimes wonder why people with mental illness aren't accepted in society. However, sometimes we don't accept society. When your that sick, it's hard to vulnerable, and it's easier with people that understand. They understand that sometimes you get so stressed you hallucinate, cry, and withdraw. It's easier to tell a friend that knows how hard is to get out of bed that morning that you couldn't met her for coffee because that day you choose not too. It's easier to explain to someone who knows why big concert are kind of scary to someone that feels the same way.

Today I went to the mall with one of my good friends and every time we got up from sitting down she had to check things three or four times to make sure she didn't leave anything. I didn't care, in fact, I helped her by checking for her because she would believe me over her own eyes. She also understood why I had to leave after two hours because I needed to take a nap. However, it's also nice to join the rest of the world sometimes. Sometimes it's nice not to think about "how does this make you feel," and "what would be the DBT skill."

So my question to you is. Do you think there is a culture of mentally ill people or maybe it just takes time and we cross between two worlds?

When do we let our parents go?

When do we let our parents go? I used to think it was an only child thing to want to protect your parents to the point that you make yourself sick. Then, through therapy, I learned about a thing called co – dependency. The first thing I noticed going to my first CoDA (Co – dependence anonymous) was that you could protect anyone in your life to the point of making yourself sick. It could be your spouse, parents, children, etc. I also learned it could be anyone, only children, people who feel they need commitments, people with an abusive past. I remember the first movie I saw about co – dependency It explained that if you have an alcoholic father and he comes to your school drunk and you make it your duty to apologize for him and clean him up then you have shame! Shame stays with you forever. Guilt is healthy, shame is not. For me, it’s when my Mom’s in the grocery store and she acts like it’s the end of the world that the bagger didn’t double bag the soda! I used to try to bend over backwards making the bagger feel better. Now I just walk away pretending I don’t know my Mom!

The reason I am bringing this up now is because my parents are filing for bankruptcy (Amber please don’t tell my parents you know, K?). Anyway, yesterday I tried tirelessly to sooth my mother so much that I got a panic attack! I made it my personal duty to make her feel better. Now I am not saying that you can’t try to cheer people up. However, it is when you make your feelings dependent upon another’s that it is co – dependency. I couldn’t even sit still. My Mom took her anxiety pill, but what I did was talk myself out it. I promised myself I would work on it. So you know? Yesterday I had went to bed thinking of how I was going to tell the lawyer that I needed to be in the consultation on the bankruptcy case! Didn’t learn my lesson. Sometimes it’s when we rest and refresh our body that we see the solution. Did you ever hear that “going to bed mad” is a good idea? Well, I did. And I really didn’t “go to bed mad” I went to bed still ashamed of my parents! This morning I woke up and made a decision. I am NOT going with my parents to the lawyer. I told my Mom and we made this compromise, I am going to stay out in the waiting room. I have even picked a fresh new book from my bookshelf to read. NOT MATTER what my parents say, I am not going in there. What makes me sad is thinking that if this had happened when I was eleven years old, I would have gone in there not knowing the difference and my parents would have let me! And I owe to that eleven year old girl, who was the ref. in many arguments, to NOT go in there.

Yes, ladies in gentlemen my co – dependency stems from my childhood. The biggest problem I have to under go in my therapy is realizing that I DON’T control everything. My therapist finally helped me figured it out! She said I feel like I am “God” meaning that I feel I can do things like love people enough so they don’t die is because my parents made that eleven year old sit down and make adult decisions on things that where none of her business. So now it’s 2010 and I am thirty years old. I have had some really crappy friendship in my past (see last entry) and my therapist had me write to my inner child how I would protect her from now on. I think that I have to promise her that I will STOP this co – dependency. I can see a scared little “Mandy” sat in her room, many nights, trying to figure out how to solve her parents’ problems and I can’t go back in time and fix that. However, what I can fix is staying out of the hospital by not holding the burden of the world on my shoulders!

Friends

Friends
By Amanda Robin

I thank God with
A heart full of love
That overflows like
The Jordan
For the friends
He has given to me.

It wasn’t always this
Way.
I used to stand
Like a lone statue
On the playground
All by my little lonesome.

It got so bad over the years
Repeatedly like nails
Continuing
To starch on a chalkboard.
That in college
I shelled out money
To buy friends.
They called it
A sorority
But I call it cult

Then recovery came
Like a breath of fresh air.
Then millions of friends
Came on the wings of Angels.

What happens after Christmas?

I wonder if after Christmas everything goes back to normal. I wonder if it has changed us at all. I mean for a lot of us Christmas is hard. We dread big family gathering and memories of people not joining us this Christmas season. I knew someone who was so concerned about how people would be hypocrites at Christmas. You know she had distaste for Christmas because of those only going to church on Christmas and Easter? My friend told me what happens the rest of time. I mean really where does God go? And she also felt that people were only nice at Christmas. My friend also wanted to know what was up with the rest of the year? Well, guess what? Her sister invited her to Christmas and she walked in the door and cried! Not just cried, but cried for a good ten minutes. I think the spirit of Christmas got to her, seeing her brothers and sister, nieces and nephews, and her dying mother. So what happens now?

Are some of us relieved that Christmas is over? Not more putting on a face and looking good. Are we sad because the spirit of Christmas touched us and now all we have is a little tree in our living room that needs to be taken down? I wonder is it different for people that believe it’s Christ’s birth? We are now ready to celebrate His death. We got more out of Christmas service than opening Uncle Buck’s present. Or is it harder because we don’t have the glory all around us, the promise of something new.

For me it has always been a little smoother transition from Christmas to ordinary time. The reason being is my birthday always falls twenty – seven days from the holiday. This year I am going to be thirty years old! I can’t believe it. However, today I got my first birthday card and I have to admit my tree is still up! It motivated me to take it down and to get ready for the third decade of my life. I can honestly say that I am looking forward to thirty. I heard it once said that mental illness gets better as you get older, but I don’t think it has to do with being older. It’s really the maturity that comes with age. I know several people “in the system” who have never matured and are still stuck in dark periods of the soul.

Living with a mental illness is about learning about yourself. It’s about knowing when your body is a little off. Did you know that you can physically feel something wrong with you before you actually experience a symptom mentally? I was taught to listen to my belly because that’s where I store my stress. When my belly feels all tight and like I am going to puke, I start some deep breathing. Others feel tightness in their neck, aching in their back, or tingling in their legs. Also it’s about heading off symptoms before they get worse. I remember being twenty – one going through my second schizophrenic break and now I know I could have stopped it. I had symptoms before, but didn’t tell anyone because I was afraid of going back in the hospital. I remember the first time I was responsible enough to say, “Hey everyone there is something wrong with me!” In 2006 I was feeling really depressed, I was twenty – six., I told my parents I wanted to go to the ER and I told the crisis nurse that I wanted to be admitted into the unit. It felt really good to be in control of my symptom and I didn’t hear any voices or see any eyeballs.

There comes time in everyone’s mental illness where you learn to manage your symptoms and know your body. I know some ready my blog have gotten a mental illness later in life so maybe at thirty you don’t know your symptoms. However, it’s the same principle with time, and the age that comes with time, you will. Christmas is over, but dealing with the real world isn’t. Let’s not be hypocrites and let's go out there and take care of ourselves. I know my New Year’s resolution was to take better care of myself!

Missing Someone on Christmas

In my anxiety group last week, we talked about what makes Christmas hard for people. One thing that came up was remembering people we have lost that no longer share Christmas with us. Every Christmas, since my Grandpy died, I could still close my eyes and smell the Polish sausage as I walked through my Grandparents’ front door Christmas Day. My Grammy lived seven years after my Grandpy died, but it wasn’t the same. My Grammy hardly ever made traditional Polish food after the loss of her husband. In fact we lived with her after my Grandpy died because she didn’t want to live alone and my Grandparents had a three story house! Anyway, after my Grandpy died my Mom mostly made the food and it was more an American style Christmas. I do also miss my Grammy now; she would always give me lots of gifts. She really spoiled me. However, it wasn’t about the gifts, it REALLY was about the thought behind it. I would go shopping with my Grammy and if I said I liked something my Grammy would make a mental note and buy it later and surprise me. I was the whole memorization and surprise that made the gift special.

Now most of you that have been following my blog for a while know that my Uncle Dick died this past summer! He was my oldest Uncle and he was eleven years older than my next oldest Uncle. The reason being that my Grandparents were told that they would never be able to have children again! However after eleven years my Uncle Jim came along, followed by my Dad eleven MONTHS later, and finally my Uncle Bill five years later. Anyway, I never spent a Christmas with my Uncle Dick. I grew up in Chicago and we never traveled to New York during the winter months. And when we moved here to New York State we still didn’t travel the three hours to visit him because his area got a lot of snow. However, his was always the first Christmas card I received. Also as you know I would write to my Uncle Dick at least once a month. He had told me things I don’t think he told anyone else. So I was very close to my Uncle Dick.

Anyway, I had cried a lot when he died and then I seemed to heal. My Uncle Bill took my Uncle Dick’s ashes up way up New York State to the hunting camp my Uncles and Dad used as young men. Well, guess what? I get this little package from my Uncle Bill last week and I opened it. It was a sliver cross with some of my Uncle Dick’s ashes in it. Now first I want to say that is the most beautiful and thoughtful Christmas gift ANYONE has ever gotten me! However, I cried a cried a good hour. I cried because I missed my Uncle Dick, I cried because I wonder who is next, and most of all I cried because since this summer I had forgotten about my Uncle Dick. It’s hard the first Christmas without someone. Now I am not like other people that get to stare at an empty seat at Christmas dinner because, like I said, we never spent Christmas with him. However, he was still part of my Christmas tradition.

I heard it once said that it is good to feel pain after someone has died, it means that we truly had a connection with that person. I feel like I had a strong connection with my Uncle Dick and that I still do. My Uncle Dick led a good life, but didn’t find Jesus until the last decade of his life! I know he is in Heaven and I ask him to pray for me. I know that one day I will see him again. However, I also know that from time to time I will hurt. One of the things with a mental illness is to realize that we still have emotions and being sad and being depressed are too VERY different things. Yes, you can get depressed over the loss of a loved one. However, that you need you doctors help with. Being sad and realizing it is healthy is a good thing. In fact I think that grieving in a healthy way to ease depression and symptoms. So anyone missing anyone on Christmas I understand. However, our Savior was born on Christmas to save us from death. Remember!