Devastated

OK I've been trying to figure out how to write about all that I've lost in the last weeks. Trying not to sound desperate and worthy of pity though the words I think describes me most are desperate and pitiful. It's not that I don't have so many blessings in my life. I have a wonderful husband who is more than I fear I deserve. I aspire to be worthy of him. At the same time, I tell myself that I am worthy and try to sit with the guilt. Not even wanting to understand why I feel guilty. Bleck. I have a supportive family, a few wonderful friends, and my wonderful kitties. But damnit, I feel awful sometimes. Devastated and desperate. Grasping onto anything that might mean life if worth living. I know I'm not supposed to feel this way--at the same time knowing there is no way I'm supposed to feel. See the problem? lol.



I wanted to be a counselor. I still do. I love working with the seriously mentally ill. Schizophrenics are my favorite. I had this fanciful idea that I could help them. I could. I helped them when I was a case manager. I wanted to counsel them. I spent my spare time reading about how many schizophrenics have been helped by therapy. So many wonderful studies done in Europe. I have been so anxious to help. But it seems I'm the one who needs the help.

I had to stop working 3 years go--then I had to stop going to school a year ago and then again last month Now I can't leave the house much. Going to Target is a bit much even once a week. I either have a migraine or I'm on the verge of one or I'm getting over one. I can't believe I'm back to being this sick. I was this sick a year ago. The last month is a blur. I haven't a clue what the hell happened. I'm 39. Guess I thought I was somehow special--somehow exempt to the "shit happens to people of all ages" rule. Ends up I'm not. I thought going to one of the top 5 migraine specialists in the country would help. It did for a bit, but now he doesn't work with my insurance company. I'm trying so hard not to feel sorry for myself. But I do. I'm devastated.

I seem to have an uncanny ability to find blogs or articles about counselors. Damnit I’d be fine if I never heard about counseling the rest of my damn life. Screw all of you. I don’t mean that of course. But I kind of do. I’m so jealous of the people around me. Working, going places, not having migraines. It’s just too much. It happened so fast. I was doing so well. In the span of a week I went from having 1-2 migraines a week to 5 migraines a week. Everyone asks why. How the hell should I know? I guess going to school did it. I guess leaving the house for 2.5-5 extra hours a week did it. I guess doing next to nothing for the classes since I had already taken most of one before (last year when I had to drop out for having too many migraines) and the other a very low stress class somehow through my body out of whack. Yes, that’s what seemed to do it. Yes, I am somehow that fragile. It’s embarrassing. It’s enraging. I’ve someone failed myself through no fault of my own.

I really wanted to help people. Please don’t say I can volunteer and help people. Seriously it makes me want to stab someone in the eye when they say that. I wanted to be a counselor. For two years—three years—I don’t even know because my thinking is all bonked up from my month of migraines—I went to class with migraines. I did reading with migraines, I worked to become a counselor. And now, I have no idea what’s going to happen. The migraines will calm down. But what then?

I know I’ll be fine—I’ll get through this. But goodness the getting through is annoying the hell out of me.