Promises

I was really agitated all day yesterday. I didn't notice it until last night, after picking a fight with Robert. Oops.

I wanted so badly to leave my house, to get out and do something.
I was bored and tired of sitting in my house watching the same bad TV shows on Netflix (Cheers as of late, don't judge me).
I wanted to do something fun, something interesting.
I wanted to get out of my head and spend time with someone else. I was tired of having my beast as my only company.

It was Robert's first day off and he wanted to do whatever he wanted, which happened to be nothing. After a few minutes of rethinking, I was able to get past that and decided that his plans weren't going to hold me back. I reached out to a few people, my mom included. She agreed to pick me up on her way home from work. I was glad to be getting out of the house and to spend some time with her, because as of late the majority of our communication has been over the phone. She works a lot and I haven't been leaving my house. But then my relief ended quickly, when we got to her house and everyone was doing what they each wanted to do, nothing. I was in the same place, just different. I was having a hard time sitting still and started pacing back and forth.

I was hungrier than ever and so impatient. And then the fighting.
It wasn't the worst one Robert and I have had. It doesn't even make it on the list of bad fights we've had. It was just stupid and unnecessary. Robert saw that from the beginning but I went all in.
And of course I lost, we both did. Because no one ever really wins a fight.

I'm really caught up in it, aren't I?

Day before yesterday I was talking to my mom about the option to be hospitalized. There are benefits to that choice; I would have access to immediate care, my meds could be adjusted and I'd have a psychiatrist and therapist to see. But I really don't want to do that.
I don't want to let fourteen year-old Isabel down. Teenage Isabel that coming out of the psych ward after hurting herself, promised that she would never go back there. Ever.
Adult Isabel knows better, that choosing to receive medical attention isn't a sign of failure and if needed could be the best thing I do for my whole self. I don't think it's come to the point that I need hospitalization, but I have to keep it in mind for now. I have to keep it on the table as long as I'm caught up in this.
A promise is a promise, though. And it is one I'd like to keep, if I can.

But I've also promised to tell my mom when I'm feeling unsafe. If I've made a plan to harm myself, to whatever severity or end, I have to let her know. So far, I've kept that one too.
Sometimes it feels like I can only choose one of these. Like I can only keep a promise to my mom or to myself. Who would I choose, if faced with that decision? I honestly don't know.

I'm withdrawing from all of my classes. I'm walking away from everything I've been doing, hoping to do better for myself. I'm starting at square one, from the beginning, all over again.

You'd think I would know how to do this. But I feel just as clueless as the first time.
There are some good things, about starting again. Right?
Right.

Cross your fingers for me.

I've changed all of my classes from grading A-F to pass/no pass. This should take some of the pressure off because I won't be worried about the percentages or grades on assignments and as long as I pass, I'll receive credit without it affecting my GPA. But even after doing that, I need to write emails to my professors and I've been putting it off for the last two days. Email is usually a relatively safe way for me to communicate with people, because I don't have to face them in person and I don't have to hear their voices over the phone. Right now though, I feel as anxious about pressing send as I would if I were standing right in front of them. I'm so prepared for rejection, anytime I ask anything from my professors, even though I have a pretty good track record. I don't know what's going to happen here, I don't know what I'm so scared about. Usually when I send an email I'm making a specific request: an extension, an excused absence, the submission of a late assignment etc. I think maybe I'm so nervous because this time I have nothing specific I want to ask for. I just want to talk to each of them about how the rest of this term is going to look, how I'm going to make it through and pass. That's a big question and I know they most likely don't feel like that's their responsibility. And there's some truth to that, I'm an adult, it's my education etc. etc. etc. But they're teachers, right? They want their students to learn and succeed? I know not all of them do, or at least deep down are apathetic. I'm just hoping the ones I have this term are invested in me as a student.

Here goes nothin'.

UPDATE: I sent the emails. I'm holding my breath.

I got 88% on an assignment, lower than I thought I would receive. She's a hard grader but I still expected better.

Why do I even try.

There was a time when I couldn't imagine living for 24 years. Maybe it wasn't meant to be.

I woke up late. Usually I don't wake up at all, so I guess that's a point in the right direction. But I'm sitting showered and ready to go on my couch, going nowhere.
I'm stuck.
All I keep thinking about is arriving late to class, trying to find a seat in the back as to remain unnoticed but the seats are all full and then everyone turns around because I'm making noise and they're staring
staring
staring
staring.

They all know.

They haven't seen me in a while. They wonder where I've been, "what other life does this girl live?"
They think I don't care about school or that I'm stupid and that's why I'm falling behind.

I can't do it. I can't walk in there. I just can't.
So I'm still sitting on the couch, having missed the late, late, late bus.
Maybe if I can get there on time to sit in the back of the huge lecture hall my next class is in, I can make that one.
Maybe.

I'm such a baby.
The truth is I just don't want to.
I don't feel like it.
I don't like school.
I'm too lazy.
Right? That has to be it.
That's got to be the reason I'm stuck to this couch.

I don't know what I'm doing.
Or what I could be doing differently.
Or if, ultimately, it would matter.

I feel so small.
So light that I can be thrown around, lifted up to be thrown down again.

I don't know what to do.
I know the world won't end, but it still feels like it will.

It's beautiful outside but I haven't left my house, like really left my house, for four days and counting.

Nobody can help me and I certainly can't help myself.
I don't know what I'm doing...did I say that already?

Because I don't. I really don't.

As it turns out, I've got nothing to prove

It's difficult after I have a few good days, to dip so low again. Those good days are misleading and I think I will always be disappointed when they don't last. It's impossible sometimes to not be disappointed in myself, even when I haven't done anything different, even when it's completely out of my control.

I had a few good ones. I accomplished some things, finished some assignments just in time. But now I'm here, again. And there's a whole new week, with a whole new set of assignments I have yet to do.

Today I've had a few people in my life reach out and that always means so much to me. Especially when they know and understand. A friend of mine, that I haven't seen in years, asked me today how I am and when I said "Not good" she only had to ask "The beast?". That is incredibly validating and I'm so fortunate to have people like that in my life.
I know they would never want to be the cause of any of my pain, but it's still hard for me to avoid feeling like I've disappointed them. My dear friends want to know that I'm doing well and when I can't tell them what they so badly want to hear, it's hard not to feel the weight of that. It's hard not to feel like I should be doing better, not only for me, but for those that I care about.

I can't help feeling like I've brought this on myself. I don't know why I thought I should take 22 credits this term or why I thought two less credits would make any difference. I don't know why I feel like I have something to prove. And maybe to some people, I do. But if I'm honest with myself, I'm in the game to prove to myself, that I'm capable. I don't know why the past 24 years of life, of survival aren't enough proof of my strength and resilience. I'm not sure why I feel the need to put myself into the most challenging situations, situations that would be hard for anyone mental illness or no.

I'm sure I've come to a point similar to this before, but I realize now that I need to do some things in order to improve the quality of my life. I can't but also don't want to live this way.

I want to be able to get up in the morning.
I want to be able to leave my house.
I want to be able to enter into social situations, new ones, but any at all really.
I want to be able to sleep better at night.
I want to feel less like I want to die.

So I guess my work, beyond school, is cut out for me. It's a lot but I know what I need to do and I know of ways that I can do it.

I need to find a new psychiatrist, one that I feel is genuinely invested in my mental health.
I need to start seeing a therapist again, one that will help me to continue developing skills.
I need to adjust my meds so they can do their job.

I've also been thinking about the benefits of an emotional support animal. I've been doing some research and I think having a dog that has been trained to help me get out of bed in the morning, ride with me on the bus and minimize my anxiety might really help.
For those who have met my dog Penelope, she is great. The best little dog I could ever ask for. She is family and isn't going anywhere. But she doesn't have the training to fill this purpose.
Does anybody have information/resources for finding an emotional support animal? Anyone have experience with finding one/having one? Benefits/drawbacks? I could really use advice and guidance.

I need to stop working so hard to prove my worth and move forward as if I am the most worthy of stability, heath and well-being. This has got to be the beginning of something different.

I FINISHED A PAPER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

More later.

Crash n' Burn

I don't know how I'm going to get myself out of this. I feel like I'm drowning in my own disappointment. I don't want this to be happening and yet I am so sure there is nothing I can do about it. I thought after making the progress I did yesterday, that it would be easier today. But every obstacle possible is present.

Time is passing so quickly and it's terrifying. I'm sick so my body keeps trying to shut itself down. I couldn't figure out the internet in this cafe for thirty fucking minutes.
I have so much to do. I have three papers and a midterm on Thursday and countless articles to read. 

I can't do this.
I can't do this.
I can't do this.
I can't do this.

Somebody stop me because I'm a fucking fiery meteor destroying everything in my path, crashing farther and faster than should be humanly possible.

And even now, I'm having a hard time thinking of something to write that I haven't written so many times before.

Are you tired of reading this yet? Because I'm fucking exhausted.