Slowly Twisting in the Wind.

A little “They Might Be Giants” for ya there.

I am sinking, trying to stay sane, trying to relinquish control to God, and slowly I am doing just that.  Billy Graham speaks in the dcTalk song “Mind’s Eye:”

“Have you ever seen the wind?  I’ve seen the effects of the wind, but I’ve never seen the wind…there’s a mystery to it.”

Faith is like that.  It’s the evidence of things unseen.  I know that God is working on my behalf and that I am the healed of the Lord, and I will be okay.  Right now, I am not okay.  I am deeply depressed, worse than I ever have been.  My body wants comfort so badly, I binge daily, sometimes multiple times a day.  The worst part of this is that I don’t care.  I need that comfort so badly that even the temporary comfort of a binge is working for me, and I see no way out right now.

I don’t care to socialize.  All I care to do is work, pray, eat, sleep, and love my family and friends.  As the title of this post says, I am slowly twisting in the wind, and I can’t see the wind, only the effects of the wind.

Geneen Roth posted this on Twitter today (she’s WomenFoodGod for those who are interested):

“Staying where you are with what you are feeling or seeing or sensing is the first step in ending the obsession with food.”

So I have been trying to feel my pain.  I have been a participant in my pain as well as an observer.  When it washes over me, overtaking me, I stop and close my eyes and feel it.  I am trying, God help me, trying to get back to myself, but just as I don’t know who my daughter is anymore, I also don’t know who I am.

I’ll keep twisting until God stops this wind, and then I will be a participant in the peace of God that passes all understanding.  Thank you, Lord.

Once Bitten…

The good news: My father got married yesterday!  I am very excited for him.  He and his new wife met nearly a year after my mother died and I have loved her from the minute I met her.  She is beautiful inside and out, sensitive, compassionate, and just plan amazing.  They are so happy together and I am so happy for them, and for US, as a family.

The bad news: well, I had hoped it wouldn’t be, but my daughter’s visit for the wedding turned out to be really bad.  The funny thing is: on the surface, things seemed fine.  I am battling her 14 year-old mind, a mind that needs medication but is not receiving any.  She played us, once again.  Once bitten, twice shy, as they say, and it will be a long time before I believe anything she has to say.

She was, as most kids her age are, more interested in texting her friends the whole time she was here.  While I am happy she has friends at all, it got really annoying.  My son cried on and off all weekend; he is only 9 and can’t really express himself.  My aunt came up to me at the wedding and said “he needs to tell her how he feels,” and I agreed.  We did sit down and talk, and I thought everything was okay when she left.  Then my son told me to take a look at her MySpace (note: I never let her have one when she was here).  She was on my computer an hour before she left leaving a status message, and she had left a message the night before.

WARNING: Swear words ahead.  I didn’t know my child was capable of this, and I felt punched in the stomach/blindsided yet again:

• (name)  soooo so fuckin tired of this shit… y cant they just b up front about it instead of playin these stupid fuckin games

Mood: pissed off

This one confused me.  Are we “they,” and what games are we playing?  We were very gentle with her.  (UPDATE: She was talking about the boy she likes, not us.)

Then, the one from last night:

• (name) wants 2 get home nd be back wit evry1 ((i miss evry1 sooo much))))) ccant wait 2 get back 2 skool on monday cant wait 2 leave…. now i remembr y i sed i wood never come back

It ends there and was written after we sat down and talked about her leaving, the way she left,  and I thought we had a nice conversation but apparently I cannot please her. (UPDATE: She said being here brought her back to “that dark place” where she had been earlier this year.   Her father later informed me that she described her weekend here as “okay, not good but not bad.”  Life goes on.)

My heart is broken.  I don’t even know how to think about this anymore.  I asked God to show me how to think, because all I can think is “I didn’t raise her to be this way, and I am a nice mother who bent over backwards to care for her while her father did the bare minimum he had to do and now she lives with him and I can’t do anything right.  I deserve better than this.”

I give up.

Surrender Dorothy…err, Citalopram Increase.

Well folks, I am too tired to fight this depression that has become increasingly worse following the loss of my daughter.  The Bible tells me that the battle belongs to the Lord, and I am giving it to Him.  I made an appointment with my doctor to discuss increasing my Citalopram, hopefully not much, just enough to help me.  I am sinking.  Every day has become a challenge to endure; simple tasks are huge right now (as evidenced by the mess I am slowly cleaning up in my house).  My sleeping and appetite are all thrown off, and I am back to not wanting to go anywhere or see anyone.  I cry…a lot…often suddenly.  The physical pain of this loss is often overwhelming.  Even my stupid anxiety is creeping up on me, though no panic attacks…PRAISE GOD.  This little dose of Citalopram remains magical for my panic, but it’s not enough for my current state of depression.

I know God is with me and helping me through this; His presence is felt and I know He is giving me peace.  Unfortunately my body chemistry is giving me hell, and I need help.

If you’re reading this, please say a prayer for me.  I am going to the doctor on Thursday, Sept. 10 at 10:10 (wow…that’s kinda cool!) and I will be getting my flu shot at that time as well…please pray I do not have side effects, as Friday the 11th is my birthday and we are going to Medieval Times on Saturday the 12th, and I really need to both go to the doctor about this as soon as possible AND not be feeling all crappy and anxiety-ridden on Saturday.  Thank you.