The New Bad Me

I am having a tough time coming to terms with the fact that I am now a Bad Person.

For 38 years, no matter what happened, or what  I struggled though, I was still a Good Person. Now I cannot say that any longer. though my husband insists that I certainly have not been convicted of anything, but if anyone looks they can see that I have been arrested and what I was charged with. They won't see the court records with the (hopefully) reduced charges. See, I still am not telling so much...you have to look for yourself.

I had a family member get arrested for a DUI, it was decreased to something about reckless driving. See that sounds MUCH better. I wonder if they charge you with something more severe sounding because they know it will be reduced, much like medical places charge insurance twice what they know they will receive.

Everywhere I go, every place I look, I wonder if anyone else around me is a Bad Person, too. And how did they get though it?

And I have also learned people that I thought were Really Good People, have a Bad Person past. But it makes me happy to know that those people survived to continue to have a Good Life. So I guess I don't have to stay here in BadPersonville for the rest of  my life.

Maybe it won't be the end of the world. Not for myself, or my family. And who cares what anyone else thinks.

The Unraveling

Each day I lose a little more hope, I have a little less optimism. My brain won't stop and I have more and more trouble focusing or concentrating for any period of time.
My anxiety never seems to end.
Sometimes I just cry and cry about what might happen. "How will I live. How am I going to support my family. How will I survive. What am I going to do?"

Thank goodness for David, Seth, Sean, and Joshua for their existence.

Or I am sure I would not have much reason to wake up in the morning. I wonder what method of death would be quick and painless. I wonder how many other people are feeling this way, I wonder if my family would be better off without my nonsense.

 I find myself shaking from the anxiety and the madness in my brain. David begs me not to harm myself. But when  am truly upset, when I am at my lowest point, I always think of snuggling with Joshua.
I can;t actually do it.


I was sitting on the floor sobbing when Joshua toddled over and crouched down, He rubbed my head and said, "Okay?" then he put his finger to his lips and said "shhhhhh" I then received a big hug and a kiss.
How could I leave that kid?
But at the same time I wish he had a better mother, A more successful one, on that isnt a loser. I want the best for them, and it;s clearly not myself, I am so lost,

Each day i feel more like reality is not so real, not to me, Since Im broke, I intend to check out the behavioral center on monday and hopefully I will be able speak to a Dr, Maybe an inpatient trip might be needed if I start having a breakdown. We shall see, Swimming is becoming too difficult.

Let me tell you about torture.

My brain is always in overdrive..and not in a intelligent type of way. More in an anxiety inducing the thinking never stops way. I seriously have to be doing something at every moment of every day. I have to bring reading material to the bathroom for goodness sake. I check my phone at stop lights. I read or watch TV while I eat. Prior to having the ability to fast forward commercials and Netflix, I would read a book during commercials when watching TV. My mind only rests while I sleep.

So spending 8 hours waiting in a cold processing room and then in a colder holding cell on a freezing hard slab of cement alone with only my thoughts was a torture I cannot begin to describe. I spent my time crying or having anxiety attacks. When I was calm I tried to rest my head on my smelly shoes because that was better than the cement. I noticed the men in other cells took their shirts off to place under their head as a sort of pillow but I wasn't about to do that! Nobody would tell me anything and it was even worse not being able to notify my worried sick husband for six and a half hours. He seriously thought I had left him forever. I guess I had always assumed that you could make a phone call when you get to jail, not that you have to wait half a day to be allowed. Maybe that's part of the punishment.

I seriously was thinking that I would rather have my left hand amputated if I could just go home and snuggle with my boys. They were all I thought about and maybe the reason I didn't drive myself insane with my thoughts.

I am eternally thankful for my lovely husband and wonderful father for bailing me out and getting me home. Even if it was father's day. I suppose I am the worst daughter/ wife ever. I have a road of legal issues and other stuff to sort out. But I have been very surprised at the amount of support I have found from unexpected places. People who have been there before. I am learning that some people's "Facebook life" doesn't necessarily reveal the low and horrible points that we all seem to experience. Maybe not to my severity, but nevertheless, we all have our secrets and our demons.

My sister told me to "just keep swimming" and I also have had a good friend offer me that same advice in the past. It sounds good. I will try my best to do it. Just keep swimming.....