The Year from Hell

This year has been nothing short of utter chaos. I started the year in January with my first mental relapse in over two years. I came out hoping to get my head back on straight and continue to lose weight. It didn't happen. I ended up on a medication that made me gain weight and then on top of that I seemed to have lost my motivation to workout and eat right. In March I had another breakdown and ended up in the hospital again. But I got out determined to make something of myself. I started grad school in May and was excited to be on my way to becoming a therapist...my dream job. But I still wasn't quite together and my teacher took notice. In July I got a job and I signed a lease for my first place...things were looking up. The week after I moved in I was rushing to work and tripped over my bad foot and hurt my leg. My leg swelled painfully and because of the nerve damage the swelling still won't go down.

After that I really didn't wanna go anywhere. I needed to swim, but my leg hurt. I needed to be in church, but my leg hurt. I tried to focus on work and school but I could feel myself slipping into depression.

And then I was manic. I stopped sleeping and had endless energy. I was wreck less with my safety and money. I created a lot of credit card debt and picked up a homeless man. In the middle of all this school had taken notice of my questionable mental stability. They wanted to know if my therapist and psychiatrist thought I was capable of being in an accelerated masters level program. Strangely enough I was making all A's, but they had questions all the same. My psychiatrist informed them that I was perfectly capable of being a student. But alas, not even a week after the letter arrived in their hands they decided that I wasn't capable in their opinion and gave me the boot. It was a big blow..And it hurt a lot it felt like the Emmanuel fiasco all over again.

At the same time I was facing some issues at work. There was a joke gone terribly wrong that ended up with me having to get an evaluation as to if I was capable of working the job and if there were any special considerations I needed. Apparently a note saying you are going insane and to feed my flying monkeys is only funny to me...oops. But I played the game and got them what they wanted.

But a week after school gave me the boot...my job "released me due to performance," which is a fancy way of saying I got fired. So within a week I lost my job and my place as a student. Devastated didn't even cover how I felt. So I searched for a job like crazy and got into contact with vocational rehabilitation. But nothing came through...despite several promising interviews.

The first of November I gave up and moved back in with mom and dad. It sucks. I love my parents but I am too old to be living with them. But I'm trying to make the best of it. I finally got some headway with vocational rehab...I'm waiting to start my evaluation. But on the way home from my appointment with vocational rehab I got a seatbelt ticket...really? Now I know I was asking for it and it's no one's fault but my own, but could I please catch a break? Oh and what is up with court costs? The fine for the seatbelt is only $25...the freaking court costs are over 100! Really Wake County? Thanks for that one!,

But I refused to let even that get me down. So, this past Thursday I went to a doctors office and got started on a program to help me lose weight again. Then on the way home, BAM! ...car wreck. I didn't see or hear it coming...just out of no where the lady nailed the back right side of my car. It launched my into the guard rail so hard my car bounced off and swung around and the back end it. I came to a stop on the side of the road facing traffic. It took me a little to figure out what happens and what side of Hwy 64/264 I was on. Then I realized I wasn't wearing my glasses or my ballcap anymore...the. I realized I needed to call someone..Then I realized I couldn't find my phone. Then I realized my car was totaled and the headlights that we had just replaced were crushed...I was like "dammit, I only got to use them once!" The pedestrian that I said this to looked at me like I was insane. He asked if I was ok, I told him I think so. I finally found my phone, hat and glasses in the backseat.

Now, hear I am a few days later and I have had to accept the fact that the one good knee I have is jacked up. I thought it was just sore and would work itself out in a few days...I was wrong. So now I'm down a car and I don't have any good knees anymore.

So, with all of this said I'm thinking about going into hibernation for the rest of the year. The entire year I have been thanking God because I know it can always be worse...and then for some reason things would get worse. So here's to hoping nothing else goes wrong this year. And with that said I'm going to list some things that I'm praying and believing for in 2015.

1. To get my but back in church!

2. Health...in mind and body.

3. A job with benefits...including GOOD health insurance and enough pay to get me on my own two feet and off of mom and dad's dime...and a job that I like.

4. A new apartment...better than my old...in a good neighborhood, in Raleigh.

5. To have my dog back living with me.

6. A car that is dependable, good on gas mileage and one that I like the way it looks...preferably a hatchback but a coupe is acceptable.

7. Healthy relationships with family and friends.

8. To spend some spare time volunteering in my community.

9. To always make time to read a good book.

10. And to never forget to write.

I'm praying and believing with God that 2015 will be a better year than 2014.

Love, Randi

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We Needed a Chill Pill

I totally lost it last week. I’ve been on edge for a while. I feel like a failure after having to move back in with my parents, and I guess I finally snapped.

A few months ago I met an individual whom was in need of a friend. I helped her through her time in need…against my better judgment. She was in a psychiatric hospital and I allowed her to borrow a few of my books. Now if you don’t know me I have to tell you something about myself: you don’t come between me and my books. I find literature very comforting and I am very fond and much attached to all of my books. If I lend you one of my books I expect you to treat it with great care. I expect the book to be returned to me in the same shape that it was sent out and I expect the books to be retuned in a timely manner. This means that if you have had one book for more than three months and you haven’t read it yet, then you probably aren’t going to read it and it’s time to return it.

Well this person had kept my books for two months and was finding every excuse under the sun to not return them to me. She lived about 30 minutes from my apartment and I offered to meet her halfway. I made numerous attempts to retrieve my books and in the end I even volunteered to go and get them from her apartment. Eventually, I hit a boiling point.

My best friend was with me in Raleigh, wrapping up some things with my move back to my parents and I was texting and calling this individual multiple time in an attempt to either meet her or go to her place to get the books. She was not responding at all and my temper flared. We made the joint decision to tempt fate and go to her place and try and see if she was there, or a roommate was there and could get the books from them. Once we arrived I told my friend that I couldn’t go up there because if I saw her I was going to hurt her…and I was serious.

Now, I know you guys are seeing this as an overreaction…and to some of you that may be true, but you have to remember the stress I was already under and the previous two months that I had been trying to retrieve my books already. So, my friend went up to the apartment and I waited in the car.

And I waited and waited and waited and my friend didn’t return. And I actually started getting worried. My already furious mind started thinking that this girl may hurt my friend, so I got my phone and called my buddy’s phone…and she didn’t pick up. So, I began to ready myself for a march up to that apartment to punch this girl in the throat. But before I could get out of the car my friend texted me and saved this girl and myself from a cat fight. Finally my friend came down with the books and now she was pissed. And before I could leave my phone dinged and that stupid b&%*% texted my phone and called me a stalked…and the circuits fried and I saw red. My friend just kept saying let’s go, let’s go and finally I realized that if I didn’t me and my buddy were going to beat that girl senseless.

And I took one of my chill pills and I gave one to my friend (don’t judge us). We both slowly calmed down and went to a bookstore…because bookstores make everything better. :)

So, would love to tell you that once I reached that boiling point and blew up yelling and screaming about my books and that jerk of a whore, (I still may have a few issues with her) that I’m back to my normal level, but honestly I feel like my nerves are raw all the time. People are getting on my nerves more so than usual.

So all in all, moving back in with your parents sucks. You get use to things the way you want them and then suddenly you have to go back to doing everything their way. Go to bed at this time, don’t leave your glass there, clean your room, no you can’t have any of my peanut butter…blah, blah, blah. But this too shall pass…it’s just now would be nice. Until next time,

Love, Randi

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Night

I hate sleeping at night. The darkness threatens to consume me with the echos of all my fears both past and present. I can hardly stand it. No amount of medication will prevent me from waking up terrified at one point or another. I. Hate. It. But unfortunately it's inevitable. Night is going to come and there is nothing I can do to stop it. So, I turn the TV low and watch Rugrats. I tiptoe around the house, cringing with every noise the floorboards create. I try my hardest to be quiet because I know that as much as I hate sleeping at night...there are three other people in this home that really do enjoy sleeping while the moon is in the sky. And my nighttime adventures have lead to more than one heated conversation. I don't want to keep them awake...but I don't want the other option either. They think I'm crazy and that I'm setting myself up for failure. And if truth be told I would cooperate...but I don't want the other option either. Honestly I wouldn't sleep at all if it were humanly possible. I have nightmares and panic attacks when I sleep during the day too...it's just easier to calm back down when the sun is lighting up your surroundings.

So here's the my dilemma. Night? Or day? Either way I gotta sleep. Do I sacrifice the little bit of comfort I find in daytime sleep...or do I relish in the smaller amount of time it takes to calm down in daylight. Do I wake terrified in darkness...clawing at my skin to calm down, or do I allow the other three occupants of this household a little more quiet to aid their beauty sleep? I wish I could tell you I'm that selfless. That I would willingly give up the small bit of sanity that I get from sleeping with the sun....but I'm not that selfless...and I'm not proud of it.

So my appologies to the other occupants of this household. I'll try and keep it down...but I'm just not strong enough to give you what your asking for. I hope you will forgive me.

Love, Randi

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Another Setback

It's time to be open and honest with you guys. I was administratively withdrawn from graduate school last week. Not gonna lie...it hurt like hell. But I'm not gonna say that it blind sided me or anything like that. The signs were there. Misunderstandings, overreactions, one-sided conversations and that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach when you know a bomb is getting ready to go off and there is nothing you can do to stop it. But I'm handling it pretty well I think. I mean I'm under a lot of stress right now with trying to figure out how I'm going to stay independent without financial aid money, but I'm not giving up without a fight.

The director of the program says I can come back after I address their concerns. I'm not going to go into detail about what all they say is a problem, but I will say that most of it is nonsense. I'm already addressing the issues they want addressed in therapy and with medication. That doesn't mean I don't make mistakes or have setbacks, but it does mean I'm trying really hard. But the last item on the director's list of things in need of addressing really stunned me. She stated that she doesn't think that my desire to help people is genuine. She believes that I'm in the program to treat myself. I read that and an entire mountain of deadly scenarios flashed through my mind...most of them involving..well I'm not gonna go there...but you get the point. My skin crawled, I developed a twitch in my neck, I cracked my knuckles and stared at the screen in utter disbelief. How could someone who is supposed to be educating future counselors being so judgmental? She hasn't spend even an hour with me, how dare she make suck judgments? I'm actually relieved that she sent that information in an email instead of telling me to my face, because I'm not entirely sure that I wouldn't have at the lest tried to slap her. Now some of you may be wondering if there is any validity to this, so I'm going to tell you guys a few things about me and then I'll leave the rest up to you.

Growing up wasn't very easy for me. I was being abused at church, bullied in school and home life could be a little crazy to say the least...so things were really difficult sometimes. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying my parents were bad parents...I love them and I think they did the best they could with what they had, and I like to think I didn't turn out too bad, so that must mean something...right? So anyways, when I was 9 I started going to church camp. I was so super excited about this new level of independence I was gaining. I remember laughing and jumping up and down on a bed in a dorm room celebrating with a church friend that we wouldn't have to wear bras since our mothers weren't there to make us. (I still wore mine, but the idea that I didn't have to made me happy.) So camp went on and we played hard during the day and went to church at night. Church was fun...they did it to target my generation particularly so for the first time in my life I actually looked forward to church. They called for all the kids that wanted to dedicate their lives to Christ to come up and I stayed seated because I had taken care of that a long time ago. But as I watched my peers kneel and weep I begin to get the impression that there was more to God than I thought. So I got up and went up there. Long story short, God wrapped his arms around me and I melted into His hands and I haven't forgotten His very real presence since.

A lot of things changed for me that night. God became real for me in a way that I hand't had before. He wasn't just an abstract figure off in the distance that made all the adults in my church run around screaming and speaking in tongues. I talked to God...I don't call it prayer because that's not how it feels to me...it feels like talking to someone who is sitting across a table from me. We chat, sometimes about the little things, other times about hard things. I found that I liked dancing with Him. I would play my music and sway back and forth as though I was slow dancing with Jesus. I would snuggle with God when I was upset at night. And in those dark night when I would retreat in fear to my closet, I would feel Him sit there with me...and even though I was terrified and crying He would sit there with me.

My point here is that it was in that night, when God made Himself truly real to me that He also awakened a desire in me to bring that same loving embrace to others. So this is what I have pursued. And this past week I faced another setback. Not only did I face another setback, but my character was questioned...and to be honest my initial response wasn't a very Godly one. But I'm a work in progress.

So this is where I leave you all. I'm in the middle of another setback, but I'm believing that God will make a way for me to do this. I believe that He has called me to do this, and I have to have faith that things will work out in the end. For now I'm waiting...I'm doing the best I can and I'm waiting and trusting in Him,

Love, Randi

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Another Curve Ball

So life has thrown me another curve ball. A few weeks ago my psychiatrist doubled my dosage of my antipsychotic and the results have been more than I could have ever hoped for. It wasn’t until my therapist pointed it out today that I really comprehended the difference in me. You see, my school forced me to withdraw from my program this week. I was heartbroken...to say the least. I sobbed and called into work…I was in pieces and frightened of the future. You see I was living off of the student loans, but now that’s not an option. I’m working part time but I don’t make enough money working part time to make pay all of my bills…so I’m scared to say the least. I have about two weeks before everything will start being due, so I’m turning me eyes toward God and saying “alright, you gotta do something because I haven’t got a clue.”

But back to my point…my new med change has really been great for me. Today my therapist asked to see my eyes…I avoid eye contact in session, don’t ask why…but when I looked up he goes “Wow!” he says “Randi, you’re actually here…I see more of you today than I have ever seen. You’re present…you are in a very stressful situation right now, but you’re present!” And when he said it I realized it was true. When Emmanuel kicked me out, I checked out for a few days. I felt empty inside and I recall one moment when I was just sitting on my bed watching my mom hang clothes in my closet and I just didn’t have anything in me to help her…I was gone. But I’m not gone this time…I’m hurting…I’m scared…I’m worried, but I’m here. And I’m not going down without a fight. So I gathered all of the shoes I own that I don’t wear very often and I gathered all of the purses and bags that I don’t use anymore and I took pictures, signed up for an PayPal account, signed up for a eBay account and listed a bunch of stuff for sale. Momma is collecting things for me to sale and I’m changed my schedule at work so that I’m getting more hours now. So like I said, I’m not giving up without a fight.

And I’m not giving up the dream. I’m not going to quit fighting toward becoming a licensed therapist…but I do think I am gonna try a different route other than Montreat. I’ll admit that my feelings are more than a little hurt. It seems to me that it is these schools that claim Christ at their center are the schools that have a problem with me. But it’s not even that, that has my feeling so hurt. I received an email with a list of problem behaviors that Montreat feels I need to address before they will let me return to the program and at the very end of the list the program director states that she feels that I am not in the program out of a genuine desire to help people, but instead out of a desire to treat myself. It’s a good thing she said that in an email and not to my face…there’s not enough medication in the world for me to handle that. Don’t you just love it when people make judgments about you, when they don’t even known you? And to make matters worse she sent that email to an entire committee regarding my situation. So I wrote a response. I didn’t write it with the purpose of changing their minds, honestly if the head of a counseling program is that judgmental about people, I’m not sure I want anything to do with the program anymore, but anyways, I was a little hurt about what was said.

So I’m hanging in there. I’m fighting this battle. I don’t find it a coincidence that I started feeling “normal” a few weeks before this happened. This is just another battle to fight on the way to my destiny. I know God has called me to help people, and I know that one of the ways He wants me to do it is through counseling people, but the road to get there is not one that I am aware of right now…and I’m trying to keep an open mind about other ways that God might call me to help His broken and hurting children. But for now, I’m taking it a day at a time,

Love Randi

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