We all have them, and yes I mean you too.
Periodically I go so low my mind ends up in the doldrums, wherever they are, hmm?
Okay, now I got it the doldrums are sadness, how redundant of me, or melancholy, feeling dejected, depression and despair, you know it, unhappiness and despondency, not quite, pessimism, in my case fleeting, now I feel that I am not quite there totally yet.
And so I suppose there is hope for me, oh yes!
What you may be wondering would cause a chatty gal like myself to feel so very miserable?
Well, to be honest and you all know that I always am…I had to return my new clothing purchases from yesterday, they fit fine, but looked just awful…on my fatty self!
After, going to a crafts bazaar at the cultural center with more ideas for us to steal in our own creativity we ate lunch there too. I had shrimp bisque soup and a salad and Hubby had barbecue chicken and smashed red potatoes with steamed veggies, how healthy of him!
We drank our own waters, since there it is not taboo.
After that we stopped at the Trash or Treasure shop within the complex and they looked as if they had more items than the last time we were there, and they did. I mentioned to the man at the register as we paid for four small picture frames we had chosen at a grand total of $2.14 in total that it was good to see all the new items and I mentioned that I wrote a blog and said that they could use some more donations when we had been there the last time!
I had hoped that I was able to help in some small way, he said thank you but also asked me to tell anyone donating to make sure the items are in pristine condition, since people even on a budget want nice things. I guess this is that request, and so if you live here in Port Charlotte Florida or even nearby the Cultural Center of Charlotte County Florida could use your gently used things, okay?
From there I asked Hubby to take the short trek up to the Target store where I had been bombarded lately with one email after another with all their sales and specials!
And I though perhaps I could find something there to wear and not look like a blimp!
But no luck and I began spilling my heart out to two other larger women but neither was in a scooter, just big.
They seemed to find things for themselves that I felt were not right for me like stripes and too bright colors…
I stormed out on my mighty scooter very upset, how I wanted to crawl into a hole and scrunch up into a fetal position but my enormous tummy would not allow me to…
I’m so miserable and my clothes are shot, and to think I used to work in fashion and model too!
Sure I can dress myself when I am slim, and even the models I used in all the fashion shows I put together for the non-profits, but this me the one in the fat suit me…I really do just want to cry…
In days of yore, my yore, not yore, this would make me angry enough to do something and change it all!
But now I can’t even walk due to the parathesia and ataxia, and I can’t even sweat without ending up on IV steroids!
So I am angry, sure, but frustrated more so… and very, very sadden by what I’ve become.
Life was not supposed to be this hard, was it?
And I really, really wish I knew what to do, besides becoming a recluse and hiding this ugly form from the world, me without any hope…
Tell me this is just another aberration, please?
I need to know that it is worth my while to continue on…
Anyone have any ideas?
I have been to counseling and you know what?
Every time that I have gone, three times in all in my life they have told me that I have every right to be depressed, but not how to make it better, and I am the one who went to them for help, no one told me to go but myself, and I didn’t get any? Now what good is that?
The first time I went to a grief counselor after my Mom died suddenly when I was a young Mom myself of thirty- one, and was pronounce well after only a month of four sessions, then after the hurricane it was a trifecta due to the death of our Yorkie of sixteen years old in May, then estrangement from our youngest son in June, and the grand finale of Hurricane Charley in August!
I thought I had Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome and so I went to see a psychiatrist due to my own diagnosis no one else’s, and he was able to put me on Cymbalta, a medicine used now primarily for pain, but then it was new and also used for depression, may be now too and I was on it for three years… when I could no longer afford it; I then weaned myself off of it and I was cured!
The last experience again was my own doing with knowing about the frustration of dealing with my Multiple Sclerosis and hitting dead ends I wanted help again, and again with just a few visits with a government counselor I was pronounced well, but I could come back anytime if need be, so I was told.
Depression is a disease that comes with misery, a death of a loved one or even a long time pet, a job loss, a foreclosure etc. and a chronic or fatal illness and Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome comes with a shock, which having your house destroyed with you in it does qualify I do believe, and so there should be no shame in any of that!
Sure it makes us crazy those who go through any of it, but rightfully so, right?
And so when I think of how frivolous my worries over not being able to find something to wear is, I still cry and I am crying now…since I long for the old me the pretty slim happy me with a loving family with both of our sons always within our realm… of communication and …oh I don’t know what to say…
But good night to all and to all try to be all that you can be and I suppose for me I will have to resign myself to more of my constant limitations and accept who I am now.
I always have been able to fix things in the past and now I can’t anymore!
I suppose I should sleep on it, tomorrow is another day…
GRRR!
For you all please share all your blessings and those overages, and we will try too! Since I have survived so much this must be just another dip in my roller coaster ride that I consider my life, and welcome to it?
And next time please be here or be square, ya hear?
Speaking My Mind is about: Tobi, who is a middle aged, no, oh all right a slightly over the hill woman with all the imperfections that go with that, and this concerns her daily life's perceptions and experiences.
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