The start of the end

I feel like that’s all I need to say. It sums it up so nicely. It’s a nice little bow on top of a big box of bull shit.
I didn’t choose this end, it was handed to me. For so many years I have been able to dodge it. I was lucky enough to rise above all of the negativity. Not to mention dispite it all, I was strong.  I pushed limits and although at times it seemed bothersome to some, the outcome was always worth is. The ends justified the means. I was always grateful for those who let me push boundaries. There were so many people who supported me that the one or two who had doubts would say “Just trust her. She can do this. She is rewriting the books. She’s not afraid to fail. And shes because of that, she often succeeds.”
But I can’t anymore. Because I can’t dodge the negatives anymore. There is not enough support in the world to push me past it and I am weaker than ever. Now, I feel I am throwing darts and I have continuing hope that one sticks. The sticking dart will help for a little while. But I am smart enough to know that it is only temporary and it is only a matter of time before I run out of darts. Now, the support that was once there looks at me and says “Be careful. She’s tricky.”
I wish I had more answers. I have darts that we keep throwing. I have my good days and my bad days. I try to bank the good ones so when the bad ones come, I can pull forward something wonderful. Like I always tell my friends and Noah when they are stressed or upset, “Tell me something wonderful.” I try to keep my wonderful bank full. It’s harder to make things bad when you have a stock pile of wonderful.

My wonderful for tonight is that I will be going to the Lake to be spending time with loved ones.

I am so sleepy that I am falling asleep at the keys so I will spell check tomorrow. But I wanted to write. Felt it was important tonight.

Stock pile of friends

My depression often leads me to think that people don’t like me. Not so much that they dislike me. More so that they just tolerate me. Even after I have spent large amounts of time with these people, talk to them on the phone often, had dinner with them, had them in my house, or had them STAY at my house there is just this general insecurity they are just waiting for me to get out of the way. That I should being doing something so that they will be okay being around me.
However, every now and then something clicks. I get this genuine feeling of worth. I can feel an actual relationship. There is an actual bond. My guard is down and I feel myself let go and my self-esteem is raised. Suddenly I feel like I am surrounded by people who want to be around me. They want to spend time with me. I know this sounds like common sense to most of you, but for me this is hard.
Tonight was one of those nights. I was able to let my guard down and just be with people I can call friends. I made dinner, which I love to do, but then when I sat down to eat, I felt like I could eat, relax and just be. All of a sudden, the stock pile of memories of the past times of the table surrounded by friends laughing loudly, eating, playing games, and me just enjoying the true friendship came rushing back. It was amazing! It is truly one of the best feelings in the world. Now I have one more memory to add to the ever growing pile.
One day I hope to be able to recover that pile when I find myself trapped in the hands of the depression that makes me feel like toleration is the only form of acceptance.

This just sucked

I have so many reservations writing about this. Know that we all have “that thing”. I have many. However, this is my biggie. Please, be gentle.

Tonight I made myself venture out and audition for a show that I knew would be a stretch for me. Not that the role would be a stretch, it would just be landing the role that would be difficult. Not to mention that this director is somewhat infamous for not liking larger people. Mainly larger women. For those of you who don’t know, I am on the large side. Always have been, more than likely always will be. I am trying to comfortably come to terms with the fact that I will always be, to put it the only way I can think of, fat. But tonight I did not do myself ANY favors.
In addition to being the largest person there, I also managed to tank my audition. Then, just to put the icing on the cake, the director said to me as I was leaving “Look at you, holding your own with all those small dancer girls.”
Lets start with the fact that I have a dance background. I have been dancing for over 20 years. I have studied with some of the best and have a much larger background than “those small dancer girls.”
Now lets move on the the crushing blow to my self-esteem. As soon as she said it I felt the knot rise up in my throat. Even now, tears are coming to my eyes. I wanted to turn and run but sadly all I said was “Thank you.” I said THANK YOU! What the hell? I just thanked someone for body shaming me! I know I am not small. I can look in a mirror and see that. It was mostly the phrase “keep up with” that, to me, implied someone who was not a small dancer girl would struggle. Someone untrained. Or worse, someone large.
With the help of my friend, I have moved past tanking my audition. He brought up a really great point. Why would I want to work with someone condescending? Auditions are like interviews. She was testing us as much as we were testing her. When I direct, I get nervous. I know my auditionees are looking to see how I will run things, how do I give direction, and how do I treat people. We all slip up and say the wrong thing, and I want to believe that is what happened. I want to believe the good. I am very thick skinned. I can hear no 100 times and not bat an eye.
This one just hit a little too hard.

I will move on

It’s nice to know that it’s not just postpartum depression. My levels were ridiculously low. It was the first time my Hemoglobin has been below 10 in months. Still not low enough to transfuse but enough to scare me. And then just to add powdered sugar on top, I broke out in hives when they gave me my platelets so they had to give me double my normal dose of Benadryl. I can hardly walk. Needless to say, it has been a “fun” day. I kept telling myself I could power through the day. That once I got home that everything would be fine. That I could take care of Eli and Noah could go to rehearsal and everything would be great.
But I can’t.
I can’t do it.
It is tearing me up. I want to be strong. I made it through every single R&J rehearsal. Yes, I struggled. But I was responsible for one person, me. I know my limitations. I know when to pull back and when to push. I was responsible for me and no one else. If something went wrong, it only effected me. Now I am effecting Noah and Eli and I can hardly breathe just thinking about it. I’m helpless. Between the depression, the low numbers, the Benadryl, the bruises, and just the overall feeling of uselessness, the hurt indescribable. At the hospital, they always ask me “On a scale of 1-10, what would you rate your pain and where would you say it’s located?” I didn’t know how to answer.
– I am covered with bruises so much so that it hurts to sit.
– My platelets have not been above 20 the past 2 times I have had them checked in the past 2 weeks so that scares the shit out of me.
– My port randomly has a shooting pain go through it.
– Somehow I missed my appointment with my therapist and don’t know if I can afford to pay the fine to be able to see her, or anyone in her practice including my psychologist, until the end of the month and now is the time when I need her the most. I’m going to have to start a go fund me for 175 dollars so I can pay off this fee. I really need to see my shrink because right now because I am just HOPING I am getting the flu because that will be easier than a bout of depression. At least no one looks twice at you when you say you have the flu. But when your body is destroying itself in a way that is not a clinical virus, no one cares.
– My heart hurts because one of the best role I will ever play is gone.
– My real life has been suffering due to all of these things and the guilt is unreal.
So …8…maybe. I don’t know.
As I feel the depression in setting in harder and harder, I try to tell myself that, like always, this too will pass. There will always be something else. At least I have to hope there will be. With my condition I always worry, will this be my last. Every show is so taxing on my body, but I love it. It makes me feel like I am still alive, like I am not some delicate flower. In the moment, I had it all. That’s what is hard to walk away from. Now I am back to being that flower. Careful, cautious, no risk, so no reward. And I have no problem taking time. Trust me, I love the break. I guess it’s hard not knowing IF there will be a next time.
Some of my actor friends ask me, how do you cry with so much emotion on stage? The answer is, I don’t push it. I just let it happen. I take a truly sad moment and I let it move me. If it does, great. If not, I’m not going to force it. I have to do the same with this.  For now, I will just try to let go. I will try to let it all go. It’s hard. There’s lots of tears, pain, sighs, and fog surrounding me right now. I just can’t force it to go away. It will happen when I am ready.

Me as The Nurse in Romeo and Juliet                   Photo Credit to Marlene Photo

 

Just Peachy (Get It?)

*I AM NOT IN ANY DANGER. I AM SAFE IN MY HOME. PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS POST AND ASSUME THAT I AM SEEKING HELP. THANK YOU.*

I am tired of being blue. I don’t mean sad although I am that as well. What I mean is I am tired of being black and blue from bruising that is out of my control. I am finding more and more bruising and I am at a loss for answers as to where they are coming from. I know I have a disorder that makes it so that I bruise very easily. Right now, it is out of control. I am finding them in places it is IMPOSSIBLE TO HIT! Who can hit under their arm pit?!?!
What gets me, is I feel like that is what everyone see about me first. I used to think it was my port. Now it has become my purple, blue, and greenish skin. I look like a leper. I pray that when I am on stage that no one sees them. That if they do, I just have to hope that my performance is good enough (or bad enough) that after a few minutes they just move on. That for whatever reason they stop caring about my looks. Even now I’m hunting and pecking on the keyboard because I am trying to apply pressure using some home remedy that “may” help. I called the doctor and told her I need platelets. My numbers maybe “fine”, but my body is saying otherwise.
I know this is all small little superficial stuff in the grand scheme of things. But it’s hard when it hurts both mentally and physically. I will get over it. I will move on. Right now, it hurts.

Here I am

Right now I feel slightly unstoppable. That is not to say that everything is going my way or that i am happy all the time. It is just a major shift from where I was a few days ago. Honestly, it feels like a lifetime ago. I think struggle can do that. I think living in a depressive state can make you feel like time has slowed down in a way. And at other times you feel it speeding up. You see your life racing by you and you feel like you are missing out on so much when in all reality, life never stops rolling along. It is a constant. In someways that is a good thing. In other ways, it’s not so much. Sometimes you just want to stop time for just a second so you can breath in a moment, hold it close just a little longer. At times it’s the contrary. I can remember being in school, wishing the day would fly by.
These are the times I want to hold on to. I take pictures, make mental notes, write more, make sure to speak kindly to more people, push myself to be the kind of person I know that I am but sometimes gets trapped behind this wall of darkness. Last night before I went on stage I said to one of my cast members “Shit, I forgot to take a Xanax!” She looked at me for a hot minute and I quickly explained “Nothing is going to go wrong or anything! Promise! It just helps me not shake as much on stage. You’re not going to find me curled up in a corner saying ‘I CAN’T GO ON’ stage because I am not medicated! I’m not quite that level of crazy actor!”
She sighed and then explained that literally the show she had done RIGHT BEFORE this one, they had a girl who did that. The director had no idea she had any mental health issues despite the fact that along with her panic attacks she was prone to seizures and running and hiding. PLEASE hear me say, I understand that mental illness takes on all forms and effects us all differently. But at some point you have to know your limitations and you have to know when it is time to make someone aware of what might happen in case of an emergency.
Regardless, I understood her concern but was glad that I could comfort her nerves. Later I explained my condition in full because, when I am not in one of my fogs,  I am not one to hide. I wear all of my conditions proudly, like badges of honor. I don’t bring them up randomly. But if they come up, like they did, I don’t mind sharing. This was a chance for me to open up to a person who could be an awesome new friend. New friends are hard when you are in your bubble of depression. But when you are feeling as I am now, new friends are exciting.

It won’t go away…

Today was bad/good. I could not make myself move. I wanted to get out of bed and I could not. I slept for 14 hours. It hurt to move. I kept hearing Eli in the other room and I wanted him so badly but I couldn’t pull it together enough to get out of bed. I am a bad mother. I just don’t know how much longer I have before he notices. He is 20 months. Right now, Noah loves me enough to cover all of his general care but I know he can only handle so much more before he caves. I am a bad wife. I have a really rare cancer that attacks my immune system and my energy level and it is hard to tell if it is my depression or my PNH attacking me.
Somehow I managed to rally at about 3:00. I forced myself to do something. Something other than feel sorry for myself. Something other than let the depression win the rest of the day. So I went out with Noah and some friends. I realized when I got out that I had forgotten my medication and tried not to panic but I genuinely had a good time. But after a while I felt myself forcing my way through things. I kept telling myself to go. Friends were telling me to come along and I did because I felt the need to push. So I did. But it was a struggle.
But I made it. I hate to put it that way because it sounds like I don’t like my friends but I do. I want to have friends, I just don’t want to socialize. I know that makes no sense, but it’s how I feel. I love the people I love. I don’t want to be lonely, I just want to be alone. One day I may live a normal life. My meds will balance me out perfectly and I will not have any days like this. Until then, I will just have to keep pushing through.

What they don’t tell you

What they don’t tell you is how hard it is when you hear loved ones in the other room and you can’t make your body move out of bed.
How embarrassed you are that you have slept so late.
That there will be nights you cannot fall asleep and although you were not up crying, there is this darkness, this feeling, that will not allow you to let go and sleep.
How much you are afraid your son is going to remember you as the parent that is never there and when they are they hear “Don’t wake mommy. She doesn’t feel good.”
How much you just want to walk in the other room but feel like you owe the world a HUGE apology for being the way you are.
That there will always be a fear that no one will really understand the way you are no matter how hard they try. They will accept and love you, but there will be days they do not understand and you live in fear this will be one of those days.
That there will be people who think you need to just get over it.
There are going to be times where you are going to do something small and stupid that any normal person would do and you are ready to take a running jump off the highest place possible.
That there will be times you would rather sit in bed and text your husband, wait for him to feed your son, put him down for a nap and then have him come tell you that the world is an okay place today before moving.
When you can hear them talk about you in the next room. You just cannot hear what they are saying.
There will be times that your body psychically hurts from head to toe. You will feel like you have been beat up. And you have been. By yourself.
When all you can do is cry. It’s not what you want, but it’s all you can do.

What they don’t tell you is how much this really hurts.

Fighting with friends

Today was a great distraction from dark.

Today we filmed the promotional video for “Romeo and Juliet”. The director had asked if I would be willing to put together a script and another local theatre technician to come in and film it. She wanted lots of action shots with short snips of dialogue. Not to pat my self on the back, but I was pretty proud of the script I had put together. It was difficult to get what I saw happening in my head onto the page so that everyone else would understand what I was looking for. I think I managed to do it, to some degree.
The best part was it meant that we got to do the the fights a few times. That was loads of fun! Stage combat is always a blast and my combat partner was on point today. We learned the fight in roughly 10 min and we were off and rolling before we knew it. We were in sync the entire time which is always important. Everything was safe and in control. Then I got to watch my friends fights which was awesome as well. I AM NOT a violent person! But I have a lot of respect for actors who can make fights look believable. In stage combat there is a fluidity that exist. It is almost like a dance. Each person must move and step at just the right time in just the right way to make it look real or else everything becomes dangerous and then it is no longer fun. Then it becomes scary for anyone to watch. There must be an element of closeness with people doing stage combat or else it loses all emotion. Then, it is no longer believable. It was nice to watch my friends “dance” through these fights almost effortlessly. We all took one deep breath and a fight that involved 12 people broke out with each step carefully placed so as to not over step the next. It was beautiful in it’s own dark way.
Maybe that’s why I could see the beauty in it.

I’m back (sort of)

For those who are followers I’m sorry I have not been writing as much right now. This darkness does not want to give way to light and there is very little I want to write about. I don’t want to continue to post overly emotional posts that will only demonstrate how detrimental depression can be. If you have been following for a while you will know that when I wrote everyday, there were times when I would write about all of the emotional downfalls that I experienced. As I am organizing my past posts into folders, it is hard to see just how hopeless I felt sometimes. Sometimes it is almost therapeutic to know that I have been there before and managed to live through it. Right now, it is just a task to keep me distracted. As are most things right now. I keep my days as busy as I can so that I don’t think about just how sick I am. Sometimes it gets the best of me and the mental becomes physical.
I hope that soon I will be back with the light that I know is inside of me. That the part of me that I love so much and treasure so dearly will embody me again. I will come back a healthy person, I know it. I am just sick right now.
Lets just leave it at that.