Helping a Friend or Family Member With Mental Illness

It has been a really rough couple of weeks.  Tougher than usual.  I have a lot going on that is causing my anxiety to increase, and I am in a bipolar mixed state (the worst), and I am basically unmedicated until I see my new psychiatrist.  That's where I'm coming from.

But today I received an email from a family member.  I don't have many friends or family members I can talk to about my mental illness.  I have lost people I cared about because I tried to talk and explain things to expect about me, and people didn't or wouldn't listen or care.  They didn't want to hear the "bad stuff".  I felt (and still feel) that if people want to be in my life, who care about me, and want to be part of my support system, need to know some of the facts and realities of what I deal with every day.

So this family member who reached out to me (I find it almost impossible to reach out to others first), just told me that she thinks of me and hopes that I find help and that she is always there for me to talk to or message or whatever.  I appreciated that message so much.  It made me feel like there was someone thinking about me.  This person was my favorite relative growing up.  We were almost the same age and got together regularly and always had a good time.  But as we grew older, life happened, and our relationship drifted but never died.  But it's been a long time since we chatted.  I had forgotten that I missed her.

When she reached out today, I was at a low point.  I'm an atheist, and I know she is a Christian, but that doesn't hamper our relationship.  She believes that she was led by God to reach out to me, and who am I to say that she wasn't?

I told her how much I appreciated her reaching out, but that it is very hard to love me or be a friend to me because I always feel a need to explain my mental illness to someone who doesn't know all about my issues, but that discussion can quickly turn into a monologue of me just trying to explain what I feel when I don't even know how to explain it to myself.  I know that it would be best if I could just hit the general points, but my stupid anxiety ridden brain insists on going into more detail than is necessary, and it's hard to back down even when I'm trying to.  It's like I just want this person to know all about me so they could understand.  But man, trying to explain all that to a person is a difficult task.  And the person on the other end has to really be ready to hear it all, even with my warning of how long it might take.  And I presumed that she wouldn't be ready or willing to listen to it all.

She proceeded to tell me about her best friend's suicide last year, and how she felt so horrible that her friend didn't reach out to her when she did this.  She explained how she felt and the circumstances.  I had the opposite story to tell her.  Of my own suicide attempts and constant thoughts.  I, also, did not reach out to my best friend of 30 years when I attempted suicide.  Nobody saw it coming.  I also explained to her that people say suicide is nothing but selfish.  I told her that it really isn't.  Most people, like me, who have attempted or consider suicide don't actually want to die.  They just want the pain to stop and don't know any other way.

We chatted for a while, and I realized that I had just assumed she (like so many others) wouldn't want the "real" story.  I didn't go into it very far because that would take a long time.  I did, however, ask her that if she ever had the time and interest in learning about my actual mental illness and what it means to me then to please let me know, but that it would be a long conversation (or monologue), and I wanted her to be ready.  And I would answer any question asked.  So maybe someday down the road she and I will be ready and able to have that conversation.  To me, having that conversation feels more selfish than committing suicide.  It requires listening and empathy and understanding and a lot of time.

So for anyone who is reading this, please feel free to reach out to me.  We can have whatever kind of conversation you are up for.  I can try to pare down the long explanations and experiences into something a little shorter and more general that will still lead to (I hope) some understanding.  I know there are people out there who care about me and have messaged me, but I haven't really opened up to many people.  If you are one who wants to be there, then I am certainly open to having that conversation.  In fact, that would be the best gift anyone could give me.  Just the time and understanding of truly listening while I try to make sense of what has happened to me.

Ok.  Time to wrap this up.  Thank you all, as usual, for reading.  I appreciate those who think about me and wish me well more than you could possibly know.  And I think about you, too, even if I find it hard to reach out, and I wish you all well.  Have a good evening/day and be thankful for all that you have...something I am trying to learn every day to do.

Don't Fuck With A Bipolar Mixed State

Hi everyone.  This may be an even longer vent than usual (wow, I just reread it, and it's a freaking novel...sorry) since I'm in a mixed state with my bipolar.  For those of you who don't know, being in a mixed state is hell.  I get a combination of some good things, some bad things, some irritable things...all at the same time or shifting back and forth continuously.  It's impossible to keep up with the mood and try to use coping skills because it can change so fast.

I never used to get mixed states, but I'm basically unmedicated right now until I see my psychiatrist on the 28th to go over my genetic testing and determine what meds to try.  Until then I am at a whim.  The two most common things that happen to me in this period are that I sleep a lot and I'm really irritable and downright vicious if someone does something to me that hurts or upsets me.  I'm talking scorched earth policy.  And I never used to be this way.

Take this week for example.  Had some good times.  Had an old friend reach out to me to invite me to lunch.  We keep up with each other on facebook but haven't talked or anything in years.  But I've seen from his posts and he's seen from mine that we have a lot of mental health disorders in common, and since we've both lost most of our friends and support system he wanted to know if I wanted to get together.  He's actually my daughter's friend, but I took him in at 18 and let him live with us until he could get on his feet.  He was always a good kid.  That was 7 years ago.  It never occurred to me to reach out to him because a)it's really hard for me to reach out to people, and b)I wouldn't have thought he would want to get together with a 53 year old woman who used to look at him (and still does) like a son.  I should have reached out when I started realizing he was having problems, but I didn't.  And now we are going to get together and probably spend the whole afternoon catching up, and I am really looking forward to it.

I can be ultra sensitive and dramatic, too, at the same time.  I can snap at people, pick arguments, or just cop an attitude, even with my daughter who I never want to be on the outs with.

But at the same time, I still feel depression and sadness.  It's almost impossible to explain how you can feel all of these things at one time or just cycle through them rapidly.  And I  know it can cause my family and friends to go crazy.  I am not very likable during these times.  Sometimes I don't even know I'm in this state till someone (usually my daughter) points out things that I am doing.  And I do things really impulsively, especially when I get hurt during this time.

So a few days ago, I had a friend we'll call R.  Well, R and I have been friends for about 8 years.  He's a pretty good guy, and sometimes he tries to support me, but he doesn't believe much in medicine and really thinks psychiatric problems are nothing but bullshit.  We have argued about this many times.  We have had our tiffs for a week or two then made up.  I usually reach out because I either figure I played a part in it or I just don't want the friendship to end.  Well R is very unhappy with his life.  I'm sure he is clinically depressed but would never admit it.  He also has a few friends (4 or 5) that he talks to me about, and he always talks shit about them.  Totally hypocritical.  He talks about how shitty they are to him, that they don't treat him well, that they are stupid or whatever.  Which makes me think he probably talks to them about me like that, but I've never let that bother me until now.

He also has a son and a transgender daughter.  The daughter is nice, but she moved out a couple of years ago, and they don't really talk or see each other.  He totally doesn't get her being transgender and doesn't think that him becoming a woman is what he always needed to feel like her authentic self.  And his son is a totally arrogant, egotistical, lazy, bastard.  He's 22, lives at home with daddy while working and making decent money, but he won't move out, and he doesn't pay any bills at all.  R pays for everything.  I think he's afraid of his son moving out and being on his own (he's 54).  His son calls him names, says he's stupid, won't do any housework or clean up, and R does it all while bitching about it.  I tell him that he enables his son not to grow up by doing everything for him, paying for everything, and not teaching him to be responsible.  He should be out on his own.  I asked R what his son does with all the money he makes, and he said he didn't know, that it's none of my business.

Sometimes when he comes up with his shit about his son I will bring up my daughter who is only 2 years older.  She moved out at 19, worked 2 jobs and went to school full time, and never asked me for anything.  Now she's a paramedic, making good money, bought and sold her first house (ironically, R bought her old house last month), and is just very mature...and very pregnant at 33 weeks...lol.  Can't wait for this grandbaby.

I know I'm rambling so if you are still here, thank you.  There is a point to all of this.  I'm just being way too detailed and stuff, I know.  I do that all the time to everyone's exasperation.

So the other day when my friend reached out to me to take me to lunch next week, I was feeling good, and I shared my feelings with R.  Well he met this boy when he moved in with me at 18, and R was very jealous of him and disliked him and said he used me, which he totally didn't.  I was telling R about the upcoming lunch, and he got really snappy and said that I need watch out, that he is just trying to use me for something again, that he's nothing but an asshole, and I'm stupid for wanting to get together with him.  I tried to explain the situation to him and told him that he knew him at 18 and doesn't know what the last 2 years of his life have been like and I do a little bit and he shouldn't judge.  He hasn't seen him or heard anything about him for 7 years.  Besides, he can't use me for anything.  Back then I made a ton of money and had a huge house.  Now I am on disability with little money and no place for him to crash if he needed it unless he wanted my couch.  I have no concerns about this boy/man wanting to use me for anything.  I know how lonely this disorder can be and what it's like to lose all of your friends since I have lost most of mine.

At this point my good bipolar mood was shifting, and I pointed out to him that he had no right to judge when he has no information, that he was just jealous, and if he wants to talk about people being used and taken advantage of he should start with all of his friends who he talks about using him all the time and even more than that, his son using him.  That is what did it.  He was yelling at me about how stupid I am and that if I want to bring family into this then "at least my kids still talk to me."  I hung up the phone immediately and started to cry and wanted to throw things and break things and wished he would drive his car into a tree.

You see, in 2012, wow 6 years now, I had a series of mental breakdowns.  I tried to commit suicide twice, was hospitalized 3 times, and was completely at rock bottom.  I was also trying to get myself off of dilaudid, which my orthopedist had been feeding me for 2 years as I had two shoulder surgeries.  So during this time I went off the medicine cold turkey which I now know is a big no-no.  It was a horrible year for our whole family, and I take pretty much all the blame.  I still feel the shame and guilt from that year in my life.  It will always stand out as the worst of my life.  My 18 year old daughter who was finishing high school had to step up and try with my mom to take control of our lives and keep us going because I was a complete wreck.

The thing is, I also have two older children.  They are 6 and 8 years older than my baby, Kassi, who is now 24 and my best friend.  Between the other two, I have 5 grandchildren.  I don't actually know a reason because they wouldn't talk to me, but the two of them just cut me out of their lives with no reason or explanation or anything.  I was, and still am, baffled.  It was so abrupt.  Not only did they cut me out, they cut out anyone who had anything to do with me, including my mother who helped raise them.  The only reason I can guess at is that they were ashamed of my mental health issues and suicide attempts and didn't want to be part of my life anymore.  But at least Kassi and her sister still talk sometimes.  It's the biggest trigger in the world to me, knowing they are there, knowing how much I love them, knowing I would love to get to know my grandchildren, knowing I would apologize for anything, but I don't know what I did.  I tried for years via phone, email, text, etc. to reach out to them with apologies but would not get any response.  Except my son actually took my call a few years ago and I got to spend a couple of months seeing my grandbabies before he got pissed off at me for something stupid and stopped all communication.  It breaks my heart that I can't have them in my life and that all I can hope for is to maybe find my grandchildren after they turn 18 and try to start a relationship, if I can even find them.

I'm telling this story to explain how it affected me what R said about "at least his children still talk to him."  After crying for hours, during this mixed state, I fell asleep, and when I woke up I had gone from just being upset to being absolutely livid.  I get very impulsive when I'm in this place.  The first thing I did was write a long rambling post about all the shit he says about his "friends" and posted it on his facebook page.  My daughter, though, who is my conscience told me I should delete that, that I would regret it.  So I did.  Instead I copied the post and texted it to R which of course caused a big fight and him telling me to "lose his number."  I wanted to go back and post on his wall after all, but by then he had blocked me on his facebook page.  But I was still completely crazed with anger.  So I wrote individual messages to a few of R's friends.  Friends that he talks shit about all the time, about how they use him for these things and treat him like shit, how he stays friends with a couple of these women just trying to get sex from them, things like that.  And I sent the messages.  I didn't really figure anyone would open them except for one woman I'll call K, because she is my friend, too.  I figured the other people wouldn't open the messages from some random person.

Well K did open the message and messaged me back.  I told her some of the stuff that R says about her and that I was sorry if what I said was hurtful but that I knew he was probably talking shit about me, too.  R and K have been friends for like 15 years.  So she and I just talked for a while.  She said she was sorry to hear the things he says about her.  I don't know what she will do about it.

Then I got a message from D, another friend of R's.  He said he was driving and would I mind calling him because he would love to know all the stuff R had been saying.  So I did.  I told him all this shitty stuff that R had been saying constantly since I had known him.  Well D doesn't like R's son anyway, saying that he is a lazy, useless piece of shit, basically the same way I feel about him.  D was extremely pissed.  I told him he could feel free to reach out and chat or call or message whenever he wanted.

So after taking a nap yesterday, something else I do a lot of when I'm in a mixed state, I woke up and had received a text from R saying "hope your happy".  Ha!  I called D and asked him if he had confronted R about the stuff I said, and D said, "Damn right I did.  I called that fat fuck and told him all the stuff you told me that he had been saying for years."  R tried to deny that he said anything.  Then he said I was making stuff up because I was mad at him.  D told him that he was full of shit because the things I said to D had specific details in them that I could only have gotten from R.  It wasn't vague stuff.  It was very specific stuff with names, dates, and personal information.  So D told him to get the hell out of his life, that he didn't want an asshole like him as a friend and that if he ever wanted to get in touch with him, he would, but not to hold his breath.  D told R that whatever R said or did to me, he shouldn't have done it, and that he was now getting what he deserved.

So did I feel bad?  Nope.  I guess when I'm in a mixed state I'm a very vengeful person when I feel like someone has hurt me.  I did something bad to another ex-friend of mine back a few months ago, and I didn't feel bad then, either.  In both cases I felt justifiably righteous in my pain and anger.  I'll tell my therapist about this at my next appointment and get her opinion.

Thanks for reading this long post.  I sure do hope my new psychiatrist, along with the genetic testing, can find some meds that will help get me out of this state.  Bipolar depression (my usual state) really sucks, bipolar hypomania (for me at least) is great, but bipolar mixed state is just a whirlwind of craziness where I don't even know or care what I'm doing half the time, sleep too much, act impulsively, get irritable and angry quickly then sometimes regret it.  I just want to get to a place where I can finally feel stable.  That hasn't happened in a long time, at least not for more than a week or so at a time.  So I'm keeping my fingers crossed about this new doctor.  Wish me luck.

Here's a link to another blog on bipolar mixed states that is WAY shorter than mine and might help you understand if you want to read it.

https://themighty.com/2016/12/what-a-mixed-episode-in-bipolar-disorder-is-like/

The Nobody Pity Party

My last blog post was a good one.  I wish I could say the same about this one.  I'm sure it will be long and self-pitying and probably not worth reading.  But my therapist says to write these things out so here I go.

After my last post where I actually made a successful trip to the grocery store, the next day I crashed.  The only way I know to explain it is that I suddenly felt that I was putting an expectation on myself and maybe others were, too, to be able to be "normal" again in that part of my life, and it scared me and worried me and made me terrified to try again in case the next time would be a failure.  So the depressive cycle was triggered.

This is going to get messy.  I can see it now.  But I don't have any other way to really express myself.  This is when the self-pity part is going to start, so feel free to close your browser now.  Over the last 4-5 years since my mental health has deteriorated so much, I have lost pretty much everything.  I'm not talking about material things (although that, too), but people.  Friends, family.  Me being "different" than I was caused many of those people to cut me out of their lives.  Being isolated and depressed and finding it hard to reach out to people sure didn't help.

Early on I tried to explain how my brain and emotions work to people in hopes that they would want to understand.  Some said they wanted to try, but most didn't.  I couldn't even understand what I was going through which made it hard to explain how I felt to people and what I might need in order to feel better.  People started dropping like flies.  Not calling or returning phone calls.  I got the picture.  If I wasn't "normal" then I was too hard to be a part of people's lives.

Now I find myself with really only 4 people in my life who try to care.  And I know I have facebook friends who try to help, and I appreciate that, but it's not quite the same thing.  I started talking less and less about my issues and tried to listen more to the people I cared about.  This was how my world shrank.

I am not and have never asked to be treated differently because of my mental health.  The only thing I have wanted was empathy when I tried to talk and understand how I kept making things worse most of the time.  I was told I talked too much, gave too many details, was overly sensitive, was unreasonable.  Not just about my mental health but about anything.  I know how hard it must be to be connected to someone like me.  It must be damn hard and frustrating all the time.

So I've tried to stop talking about my mental health as much as I can and only bring it up when I can no longer hold it in.  Sometimes the reaction I get is empathy, and sometimes I get berated or feel bashed.  I have had rules placed on me by people about what I can say, when I can say it, how long I can say it.  So I figure it's easier just to stop all the talking.  I'll talk through my blog so people don't have to hear/read if they don't want to.

The truth is that I have many days where I cry for hours for no apparent reason, and if someone happens to call and ask me why I don't have a good answer, or any answer.  It's been especially bad the past year or so because I haven't been medicated due to not being able to find a psychiatrist that I can work with.  I have limitations that I try to work with and some days I can try to push through those, and some days I can't.  But I never have easy answers because I can't even understand it myself.

So yeah, I'm feeling sorry for myself and I'm lonely.  This is a self-indulgent rant because I have had a couple of bad days.  Shit I've had bad months for a long time now, and it's hard to keep from feeling hopeless.  Yes, I can talk too much.  Yes I can message too long.  Yes I can give out more information than is needed.I don't do these things on purpose.  Afterwards I berate myself for fucking up yet again.

You know who is on my favorite call list on my phone?  The suicide crisis line.  I know I can call them, and they will listen and try to understand and help me understand and feel better.  I have to remind myself constantly of my promise to never attempt suicide again because I think of it all the time.  I think the world would be better without me, and I would be better without the pain.  But I am still here.  I can't even say I'm fighting because I'm really just existing.  I feel like my life is disappearing along with me.

I have nothing but time on my hands since I'm on disability, and I have no hobbies or anything that brings me pleasure except talking to my daughter and my two friends.  I do have one thing that I am looking forward to, and that is what I try to focus on whenever I feel this down.  I want to be here for my mom, my daughter, and my soon-to-be grandson.  That is what I live for.

So I guess I'll close the party down now.  There really isn't anything left to say.  I know I shouldn't even post this because it's just me being a whiny, crying baby.  Thanks for reading, but you really didn't have to.  It's just a useless post for me to cry out my feelings.  So it's time to say good night.  I've given up hoping that tomorrow will be better because it isn't.  I wake up just waiting to go back to sleep.  So sleep it is.  Except that I usually can't sleep also because of my problems.

Now I'm just rambling so I'm done.  I hope everyone has a good night.  Be thankful for what you have, the family and friends, the people who lift you up, the hobbies you have, a job you enjoy.  That is what I wish for all of you.  Goodnight.

Agoraphobia and Grocery Shopping

Many of you may know that one of my mental health disorders is agoraphobia.  I've explained a bit about it, but this week I had somewhat of a breakthrough and decided to tell you a little more about it.

Agoraphobia (ag-uh-ruh-FOE-be-uh) is a type of anxiety disorder in which you fear and avoid places or situations that might cause you to panic and make you feel trapped, helpless and terrified. You fear an actual or anticipated situation, such as using public transportation, being in open or enclosed spaces, standing in line, or being in a crowd.

People with agoraphobia often have a hard time feeling safe in any public place, especially where crowds gather. You may feel that you need a companion, such as a relative or friend, to go with you to public places. The fear can be so overwhelming that you may feel unable to leave your home.

Agoraphobia can severely limit your ability to socialize, work, attend important events and even manage the details of daily life, such as running errands.

My agoraphobia started about five years ago after a head injury and concussion that caused post-concussion syndrome and escalated all of my other issues such as my bipolar disorder.  It was a nightmare I could never have imagined.  For the first six months I did not leave my house except to go to a doctor.  For another year after that, I would not even leave my bedroom to go into the living room, except to use the bathroom or go to the kitchen.  The thought of being outside gave me horrible panic attacks, as did the idea of being in a store (such as Walmart) or a crowded place, or a new place, really anything.  I was just simply terrified.  Along with my other mental health issues, this was being treated by my psychiatrist and therapist, along with a neurologist.

One of the typical treatments is exposure therapy which is horrifying.  You have to force yourself to do the things you fear the most.  So after about a year and a half I started trying small things, just leaving the house with my mom and going for a short ride in the car.  I started trying to go to my daughter's house for brief periods of time.  I would go to a small store, like a drug store, with my mom to pick up a couple of items as quickly as possible and then return home.  During these attempts I had multiple panic attacks, which make agoraphobia worse, but I had to keep trying.  There were weeks and even months when I couldn't do anything, and then I would start to try again.  I was able to leave my bedroom and sit in the living room with my mom, and that became ok.  I just had to keep working the steps.  One step forward, sometimes two steps back.

Over the past year, I have started getting a little better.  I could ride in cars, I could visit my daughter's house, go into a drug store, even going into a grocery store (the worst) just to pick up one or two items then leave quickly.  It's been a very slow process, and I'm not always successful.  I've had to give up a lot of things I used to love, such as going to concerts or movies.

I was lucky that my mom did our grocery shopping because I could not do it.  Then we turned to shopping online for groceries and just picking them up.  We've been doing that for the last year and a half or so.  But two days ago I was having a "good" day and decided to try really hard to go into a grocery store with my mother and do an actual shopping trip to buy what we needed.  I hadn't been into a grocery store to shop in almost five years.

We went inside, and I immediately had an anxiety attack.  I had to stop and breathe and remind myself that I wasn't dying, that I wasn't having a heart attack.  Then we progressed.  We went up and down every aisle, while I focused carefully on price checking products and using my calculator on my phone as coping skills to try to stay distracted from being out in the open.

It was hard.  Very hard.  I had to stop a few times to deal with my anxiety, but my mom was right there with me.  We were there for about an hour, unheard of for me for the previous five years.  We checked out and loaded the car and drove home to unload the groceries.  I immediately went to my bedroom, my safe space, to deal with the anxiety.  

But at the same time I was really damn proud of myself.  It may not sound like a lot to most of you, but if you've ever experienced it, especially for years on end, it was a big fucking deal for me.  I didn't think I could do it, but I did.  I called my daughter and told her what I did.  My anxiety was so high that my voice was racing and I couldn't stop talking.  She told me how proud she was of me, and I felt like I had made a small break through.  I wanted to tell all of my friends how I felt, but I don't really have but a couple of friends.  So I journaled about it instead, feeling excited to tell my therapist next week.

But I was exhausted, mentally and physically.  It took so much out of me.  I had to lie down for the rest of the day.

Then came yesterday.  It wasn't good.  I woke up with terrible anxiety.  I felt like I had a hangover from it and the day before.  I was in a horrible mood that I tried and tried to get out of.  I realized that I had set a bar for doing something, and now I felt like I should be able to do it again and again and go farther and farther more frequently.  I was putting a tremendous amount of pressure on myself in my mind, even though I was trying not to.  I was trying to focus on the good part, that I actually did it at least once.  Only four or five people who have seen this disorder affect me over the years have been able to see the slow changes in my trials and sometimes failures to overcome this.  I knew they were proud of me, and I didn't want to let them down the next time.  My brain spiraled with racing thoughts about this all day.  And I had a couple of panic attacks just thinking about the next time.

Today, though, I am just trying to remember that I did it.  A fucking grocery store.  Something that most people take for granted was a huge deal for me.  Maybe the next time won't be as successful, but I will be trying again, and thinking of other places to try.  Smaller places with few people are much easier.  I don't know if I'll ever be able to go into a Walmart again, but that's ok with me.

I also have trouble going to someone's house and meeting and being around groups, even small groups, of people I don't know well.  So in my pride of going to the grocery store, I almost forgot that my daughter's friend held a baby shower for my daughter two weeks ago where there were about 40 people that I didn't know.  There was no way that I was going to miss that.  I had quite a few anxiety attacks during it, but I was able to escape to bathrooms to settle myself down.  My daughter said that I had done a great job and she was proud of me for that, too.

So I'm making progress.  I'm trying not to worry about the next time or the time after that.  I'm just going to try to do what I can, and if I have to leave in the middle of an attempt, then that's just what is going to happen.  I am trying to have reasonable expectations that not all of my attempts will be successful, but that I need to keep trying.

I am on disability, and I don't drive.  The thought scares the shit out of me, but that's my next big goal.  Early next year, I am going to take the written and driving tests and see if I can pass and then see if I am able to drive on my own.  I've been talking about this for quite a while, and I'm going to do the best I can in maybe February to make this happen.

Meanwhile, today I have another trial.  My daughter and her boyfriend are taking my mom and me to lunch at a restaurant.  I never do that because I don't have the money (she's paying for it because she loves me and wants to treat me and help me) and being stuck in a roomful of strangers and eating is really scary.  But I'm going to do it.  It may not be smooth, and I know I will be anxious, but the people I love will be with me, and they know my limitations and will help me however they can.  I'm both looking forward to it but kind of dreading it at the same time.  But I'm going to do it.

Today is going to be a good day.  I'm going to spend time with people I love, out in public, in a restaurant, with people I don't know surrounding me, and I'm going to conquer the fear at least for today.  These attempts leave me feeling both happy and anxious and terrified and proud all at once afterward.  I have to take the good with the bad and just keep hoping that things will get easier as time goes on.  But I have to remember not to put so much pressure on myself that I actually cause a panic attack just out of my own fears.

So I wanted to share with you the progress I have made.  When I read it back, it doesn't necessarily sound like much, but it really is.  I can see the progress even when I also see the setbacks.  I will continue to try and hope for success.  Today, though, I'm just going to breathe and enjoy my family and try to ignore the potentially distressing parts and know that I am doing the best that I can.