What's happening now.

I've been pondering this post for some time now.  I could really use some positiveness in my life.  My home life is very good.  I worry that my husband could be bored with me, or tired of me always having something wrong, but as of right now, he assures me that is not the case.

But I am tired.  Bone weary tired.  I'm tired of holding my head up.  I'm tired of fighting the demons, tired of justifying my life to my mother, to my friends.  I'm tired of feeling horrible.

I've missed out on all of the Fourth of July fun because of two major things, One, I had a migraine from hell, that I believe was caused by my newest medication and two, because I simply could not handle being around all those people.

I'm working to get a service dog, and Whiskey is doing a great job of learning - finally. But that doesn't stop my anxiety, honestly, it adds to it because until he is fully trained, he is rather a big bollix. He is as afraid of people as I am.  Fortunately, my trainer is awesome.  She has devised a new plan of action for Whiskey that seems to be doing much better.

I don't know why this is happening.  All I know is that I seem to have had a breakdown and now I'm terrified all the time.  Not just afraid - I feel fear, but it goes beyond fear.  It goes into sheer terror.  I'm now seeing a therapist, a psychiatrist, a chiropractor and a DO.  The amount of money we have spent on me is stupid.  And it's not like I can help it.  I can't.  I freeze and I can't speak.  I physically can't do anything, except occasionally pee myself - which for a 43 year old woman does NOTHING for my self confidence.

I've been told: I'm not praying enough, I'm not praying for the right things, I've fallen off the righteous path, I'm over medicated, I'm under medicated, I need to get over this.  I need to move on.   I wasn't this way before, why I am now, why would I have a label of PTSD - what on earth is that about - only military people have that - and I'm not military. I'm so tired of people judging me, saying that things that have happened in my life "aren't that bad" - no, they may not be as bad as some have lived, but they are definitely worse than others had it.  And I am a poster child for well adjusted - at least I was until I finally wasn't strong enough any longer. And now, I'm not strong enough for a lot.  It's not "daddy" issues, even though he abandoned me - according to one side of the family - according to the other, he was run off.  He did other things as an adult that are pretty unforgivable - and I've tried forgiving him.  Now, he'd rather be friends with my ex-husband and call him his "son-in-law" instead of my husband.  Nevermind the fact that he is no longer my husband and has a new wife and does VERY LITTLE for my son.... whatever.  I'm not really all that into believing that my issues are all from him.  I'm an adult.  I'm over it.  I'm not over some other things that happened, but I'm over him and his drama.  I know I hurt him when I told what he did.  But he's the man who did it.  whatever.  I just don't have the strength any more.  Panic attacks, agoraphobia, severe anxiety disorder, PTSD, depression... the list goes on and on.

Now my soon to be daughter in law is judging me.  Will you have a panic attack and ruin my wedding? Can you deal with the stress of the wedding?  What about this?  What about that?  Can you just back the hell off?  When it has come to my son, I have always been able to keep my shit together.  ALWAYS.  So back off bitch.

I'm tired.  I'm so very tired.  I'm tired of feeling fragile.  I'm tired of being afraid.  I'm tired of having panic attacks.  I'm tired of not being able to go out that door.  I'm tired of not being able to speak when I want to speak.  I'm tired of it all.  I want it all to go away, and yet no matter how hard I try, it gets worse.  I'm so tired.

Just call me "Grace"

Just call me "Grace"....  
Not even one week ago, I had my mastiff pull me off my feet and drag me across the driveway and half the yard.  In his defense, he was trying to protect me by going after another dog that had barked and snarled at me... none the less, I hurt in places I didn't know it was possible to hurt.  Last night was my husband and my third anniversary - YAY for three years! - anyway, we went walking after dinner through a store... and I sat down on a bar stool to see if it would be one we would be interested in purchasing... and low and behold, my high heel caught in the lower support bar (No, I NEVER wear heels anymore, and I guess I totally forgot that high heels can do that) - but again, DOWN I GO... same hip, same side.  OUCHIES.  I mean seriously - OUCHIES.

I hurt.  My hip hurts.  It hurts to sit down.  It hurts to walk.  It hurts to do anything.  I am not a happy girl.  I just want to whine... and take pain killers.

UGH.

Wish me luck throughout the rest of this move... I may not survive it if I keep falling on this same hip.