History Repeats Itself

I’ve decided to overshare, because if I don’t, I’ll go bonkers.

(Too late?)

My neighbor started using heroin again and he won’t be coming back once he’s done with detox and the group home, according to his heart-broken father.

I am sad. I’ll miss my young friend. All I can do is pray for him now, but I can’t allow him back into my life.

My daughter is really struggling mentally and I am scared. It seems as though history is repeating itself. I know that I worried the hell out of my own mother practically my entire life.

History repeats itself. Hand drawn dry brush lettering. Ink proverb banner. Modern calligraphy phrase. Vector illustration.

Mental illnesses are not to be fucked with.

I’m having a hard time right now, but I have no choice but to wait until Sept 11th to see someone myself.

My daughter has a therapist and she’s on medication, but it doesn’t seem to be helping much. It’s just this continuous fucking battle and I honestly don’t know what to do for her. I do understand how she is feeling. I’m above her slightly only because I’m so much older and have more experience with these fuckers.

She has the exact same problems as I have.

I handed this shit down to my baby girl.

The catalyst? Her boyfriend broke up with her because they weren’t “growing” as a couple. I’d love to punch the little twit right now, but that’s not an option.

She misses her grandmother so much and she keeps asking me why she had to die.

How do you answer that?

Because that’s what humans do. We die. We all end up dying, there are no exceptions to this rule.

Because it was her time to die. God wanted her back. She had a good life and I reminded B that she brought her so much joy and love. My mom wanted B to always remember her and she certainly will. She made that dream a reality.

I was planning on going on a trip to visit a friend for a few days, but last night my daughter asked me to please not leave her alone right now. As much as I was excited about taking a break from reality for a spell, I can’t go. I had to break the news to my friend, who I know is disappointed, but I’m pretty sure that she’ll understand.

History repeats itself.

My mom spent 44 years of her life taking care of me and now it’s my turn to do that for my child.

I only hope that I can keep her safe from her demons.

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To My Ex-Husband

letter-writer


To my ex-husband,

All I ever wanted was for you to love me until I was me again.

And I didn’t think that this was too much to ask.

I should have took more notice of the way you’d complain about wanting the old me back.

Where did she go? And I didn’t have an answer, because my mental illnesses took over and kept me their prisoner.

Do you realize just how paralyzing that was? I struggled so hard to be that old version of myself again, but it was a long battle, not to mention an impossible one.

I am mostly me again, but I’m certainly not the same old Merry that I was back in 2011.

Because I’m a stronger, updated version of myself now, partly because of the hell you put me through.

I read and hear from many sources that I need to forgive you, but that’s something that I’ll never be able to do. I will never wish you well, nor will I pray that someday you’ll see the light. That’ll never happen because you’ll never admit that you did anything wrong.

Your evil superpower is an ego the size of your ass.

You’ve caused me far too much damage for forgiveness to ever take place.

Because of your early subtle and then later insidious abuse, I have a persistent voice in my head that tells me that I’m not worthy of love.

That I’m not worthy of empathy and human kindness. That being mentally ill is something to be ashamed of, ostracized and mocked for.

I have a deep river of anger and hostility towards you. I wasted 15 fucking years of my life, the entirety of my 30’s, with a cold, heartless, lying, cheating son of a bitch. Those are years that I’ll never get back.

They are now all lost to the hands of time. All I have to show for those precious years is a greater understanding of how to detect an abusive person and then steer clear of them.

And I will not allow myself to be treated like human garbage ever again. I deserve so much more than what you were ever capable of giving.

What do I wish for you?

I wish that someday, when you become sick yourself and you’re scared shitless, that you end up alone in an ER somewhere, desperately hoping for some reassurance from your beloved that you’re not a miserable burden, better dead than alive.

Do you remember that day? That awful day when I tried to kill myself, but you couldn’t be bothered to follow the ambulance to the hospital to comfort me?

I still cannot wrap my head around it. What sort of human can do that to someone that they claim to love?

I suppose someone like you, because that’s exactly what you did. Such cruelty is absolutely disgusting and everyone that knows would agree with me.

My mother despised you, by the way. Your heart hurt when you learned that she passed away, eh?

Save the bullshit for someone who might believe you.

I hope that someday I run across your mind and you experience even the slightest twinge of regret. And if that day ever comes, I hope that you can feel my hatred for you over the miles that gloriously separates us.

I pray that your new soon-to-be wife wakes up one day to discover that you’re also cheating on her, because like you told me in a sad attempt to rationalize your deplorable actions, you have a sickness that makes you want to fuck as many women as you can.

Because of course, you’re the victim.

I really hope that she has the nerve and determination to kick you out of her home, just like I did.

Because of you, I have many years worth of therapy ahead of me. And I hope that each session, when I speak your name in an effort to finally redeem and recollect my sense of self worth, it burns your soul.

Whatever is left of it.

Your ex wife,

Merry

Mental Health Is Like A Teeter-Totter

When I called this past Monday about making a psych appointment, I was given two options.

Option A: Go to the main campus of the hospital system I’m currently using for my healthcare and wait for many hours in the ER. 

Option B: Wait until September 11th, the first available appointment for a psych evaluation at the smaller and much closer office building.

Since I’m not currently experiencing a mental health crisis, I decided on option B.

Mental health is a precarious thing. It reminds me of a teeter-totter. It goes up and it goes down, sometimes so quickly that you’ll lose your balance and fall on your ass with a loud thud.

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Look, a therapy dog!

It’s not that simple getting help, as you can see from my options up there. Either I am in serious trouble and need assistance right NOW or I have to bide my time until I can be evaluated.

I can tell you what I need, a decent therapist.

I need to talk about what I’ve gone through the last few years with someone who isn’t too close to the situation. This time around, though, I won’t follow any doctor(s) or therapist blindly like I have in the past.

Perhaps I’ll even allow the doc to give me a booster med that is specifically used for major depressive disorder. I know that I want to stay on Effexor, because without it, I’d be curled up in the fetal position on I-71 South towards Columbus.

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A strange thing happens when your trust has been broken numerous times by people you once thought had your back; you begin to follow your instincts and tap into your own shitty experiences instead.


I’m hanging in there.

I miss my mother dearly and I cry often. It hurts not having her to talk to and share news with her, good and bad combined. I’ll start to think about those last few days before she died and how she didn’t even look like herself lying in that hospital bed on comfort care. The sound of her breathing, erratic and desperate. Even while actively dying, she didn’t want to let go.

All I can do is continue to move forward. I want to make her proud of me and keep on living my life.

And that’s why I need to fight back hard to stay put on that teeter-totter and try not to fucking fall off.