Liar, liar... in A day in the life...

…pants on fire! If this were true, my ass would be ash. I told my upstairs neighbors, who I sometimes babysit for, and the other girl I babysit for that the reason I ended up in the hospital was because I was taking Chantix to try and quit smoking and had a very adverse reaction to it. They were all like, oh my gosh, I’ve heard of that happening! I feel like a jerk, I really do, but what am I supposed to do? Tell them I tried to kill myself and then expect them to feel comfortable letting me watch their children? Don’t answer that if you’re going to be an asshole.

I take pride in the fact that I take EXCELLENT care of those three little ones. They’re well fed, bathed, entertained, and totally loved. I even buy them clothes to keep at my house and bought Ben a brand new pair of shoes. What I did doesn’t make me a bad or “crazy” person. I’m someone who struggles with depression and anxiety and the effects of PTSD. No, I don’t have flashbacks and start acting paranoid. My PTSD manifests itself by the past always being part of my present. It literally won’t leave my head, and I hate it. That’s why I’m getting treatment for it. I’m going to learn to deal with the past once and for all and put it to rest. Being around Ben, Henry and Grace is actually really good for me. I get to concentrate on these little angels and when I do that the past leaves me alone. Keeping busy is good for me.

Today I had a therapy session, my first one since getting out of the hospital. It went really well. Mr. N (therapist) told me we were going to take things slower and he was going to work with me on feeling more comfortable so I would be able to handle things better when the sessions get really intense. I’m feeling more optimistic now instead of petrified. I’ll get through this. The thing that sucks is that I know it’s going to take time, probable quite a bit of time, and I just wish it could all be over within, like, a week or so.

Do any of you believe that God actually speaks to you? I personally do. It doesn’t always have to be a voice you hear, sometimes it’s just a feeling you get. My husband isn’t an overly spiritual man. He believes in God but he’s not big on church or anything like that and I’m okay with that. I go to church because it fills a void in my soul. I don’t pester hubby about not going and it doesn’t upset me that he doesn’t. His spiritual journey is his, mine is mine. Anyway, on the way home from the hospital this past Friday he asked me if I would laugh at him if he told me something. I told him of course I wouldn’t. Then he told what happened after he got home from visiting me the day after I was admitted. First let me say, it was a horrible visit. He was so hurt and angry. He told me he couldn’t do this anymore and he was hinting at divorce. I was devastated and pissed all at the same time. I was crying so hard it was hard for me to talk, but I did manage to tell him that right at that moment I hated him with everything in me. I told him I had put up with his shit for over 12 years, what with his ex-wife, his kids, his constant lying, etc. I told him there had been so many times I wanted to run but I NEVER DID! I told him that the vows he took, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, obviously didn’t mean a fucking thing to him, and that I would never abandon him if the shoe were on the other foot. Then I got up and told him he needed to leave and went back to my room. After he left I cried and cried and begged to go home but of course that wasn’t going to happen. I have never felt so utterly alone in my life. But anyway, on the way home this past Friday he told me that the reason his feelings changed was because after he got home that night and was in bed his mind was racing with thoughts of leaving me and should he or shouldn’t he when he felt a soft voice whisper, “Help her.” THAT, my friends, was God. Hubby says maybe it was his grandma, he doesn’t know, but I know, with every fiber in me, that it was God. And I’m going to say right now, THANK YOU, FATHER! My husband and I are going to work through this and we are going to come out stronger than ever. I just know we are.

So my dad and stepmom still aren’t speaking to me. Eh, it is what it is. They will eventually. Right now I don’t really care, to be honest. I don’t mean that in a mean way. I’m just concentrating on myself and my marriage right now, so if they don’t want to talk to me then that’s something they have to live with. My life will go on with or without them in it. My sister had them and my mom and other family members read some book called Smoke and Mirrors, the Magical World of Chemical Dependency. Are you freaking kidding me?? That’s something they should have read when my sister was in the midst of 20-plus years of alcohol and drug use. But she convinced them I have a pill addiction (to what, I’m not sure), a food addiction, and a shopping addiction. Um, okay. First, I in no way, shape or form have a pill addiction. I take my medications as prescribed, and not one of them is an addictive medication. I don’t overeat on a daily basis. Most days I hardy eat at all because of the gastroparesis. But yeah, don’t we all have times when we’re feeling down so we grab the chips or the ice cream? And the shopping addiction is flat out crap too. I’m not going to say I’ve never overspent, but again, who hasn’t? So yeah, that’s what I meant in my last entry when I said my sister, since she has been clean and sober for a little over three years, decided she was fit to diagnose me and lay out a treatment plan for me. She demanded I start attending AA, do 90 meetings in 90 days, and show the 30 day chips to prove it. I said these words to her on the phone when she called me at the hospital and laid out these demands: FUCK. YOU. I’m supposed to go to AA? What for? I don’t drink! So I guess I’d stand up and say, “Hi, my name’s Amy. I’m not an alcoholic and don’t even drink, but my sister is demanding I attend meetings so here I am. I have to get a few 30 day chips under my belt so she’ll give her blessing for family members to start speaking to me again.” Now can you understand why I’m still hurt and still angry with her? Yes, we are talking again and things aren’t as heated between us, but I am still hurt and angry and I don’t trust her anymore. We FINALLY started building a relationship when she finally got clean, and now it’s all blown to hell. I’ve carried her on my cell phone plan for years now and today I told her, in a very nice way, I might add, that she needed to take her number and get her own plan. She told me when I was in the hospital that I need to “start taking responsibility for my life” so I am. I’m going to take responsibility for my actions and my life, which includes paying my bills, and I don’t want her on my cell phone plan anymore. So she moved her number to her own plan and that’s that.

I have a question for anyone who reads this. How do you get toxic people out of your life without being an asshole about it? And WHY do I feel so guilty about doing it when I know it’s necessary? This alone is giving me serious anxiety. I need to grow a backbone. And no, this isn’t my sister I’m talking about....yet. This is about a few other people in my life.

I want to tell you about Jeff. I met Jeff while I was in the hospital. The first group session I met him at he looked awful…beyond awful. At one point he got up and went to use the bathroom. A few minutes later a lady named Vicky went to use the bathroom and came back and told the social worker that someone was in the bathroom yelling. The social worker left the room and a few minutes later Jeff walked back in, the front of his shirt and his hair soaking wet. Another patient, Mark, looked at Jeff and asked if he was okay. Jeff said yes, he just had to wash the defilement off of him. Mark asked, heroine? Jeff nodded. Then he started saying how when he gets out his life is finished, whether it be a needle in his arm or him driving into a tree, his life was ending when he gets out. I looked at him and said, please don’t say that! He said nope, nope, it’s done, I’m done. It made me so sad I was almost in tears. That night when I went to bed to not sleep I started praying hard for Jeff.

The next day he looked like a different person. The doctors had finally got him on some medication and he was so much calmer and more alert. He told us he was feeling much better and I told him I had been praying for him. He asked me my name and thanked me. A few days later he heard that I had my Bible with me at the hospital and asked if he could borrow for a little bit. I was like, absolutely! I brought it to him and up until I left I never saw him without it. One day he came and sat at a table with me and we even talked about our faith and love for Christ. I realized that Jeff was really a wonderful guy who had so much to offer the world and I told him that. He asked me if I really thought that was true and I said yes, absolutely.

The day I was discharged he was still reading my Bible. I asked him if I could borrow it for a few minutes and he handed it over. I went up to the nurse’s station to borrow a pen and took all the papers I had in the Bible out of it. The TO and FROM part of the Bible was blank because I had bought it for myself, so I wrote to Jeff, from Amy C., on September 25, 2015. Then I wrote a little note to him about how God will always be with him and to keep looking up, especially when things get rough. Then I took the Bible back to him and gave it to him. He was so shocked! He said, “God bless you.” I told him it was my pleasure and that I just knew he was going to do great. I still pray for him every night. This might not make sense to a lot of you, but I felt a very spiritual love for Jeff. It’s not at all the kind of love I have for my husband, and you’d have to be a believer in Christ to understand. I don’t want to have a relationship with Jeff, but I do love him in a Godly way. I felt like I was supposed to meet him. I pray everything goes well for him when he leaves the hospital. He’s got a beautiful heart and soul and I hope he never forgets that. If any of you pray, please pray for my friend Jeff. Thank you.

I slept SO good last night! First full night’s sleep since before I went into the hospital, and I’m not kidding even a little. I slept so good I was almost late for my therapy appointment…lol. I’m hoping tonight goes as well.

It’s amazing what coming here and writing does for me. I was feeling jittery earlier but now I’m calm and cool as a cucumber. Yay!

I have a busy week ahead. Tomorrow I pick up Ben and Henry from daycare at 4 p.m. and bring them back to my house until their mama gets off work. She should get here at about 8:30. Wednesday I have a mammogram at 8 a.m., an abdominal ultrasound at 10:45 a.m., and an appointment with the GI doctor at 2:30 p.m. Thursday I have another therapy appointment at 1 p.m. and then my women’s bible study group at 6:30 p.m. Friday evening I go to Al-Anon at 6 p.m. and then afterwards hubby and I are going out to dinner and then to see Hotel Transylvania 2. Have any of you ever seen the first Hotel Transylvania? OMG, it is the CUTEST movie! See it! See it and then go see the second one. I can’t wait!

So I think I’m done for now. I’ll be back probably tomorrow. I hope you’ve all had a great day. God’s blessings on all of you.

Amy