Kate's Motel

What you don't know about your bedspread won't hurt you.

Just Cause You Got The Monkey Off Your Back Doesn’t Mean The Circus Has Left Town.

My fingers start twitching, I can’t sit still and for some reason my face itches.  I’m getting the shakes.  Having a difficult time with the can opener, but that could be nothing…I’ve never had much luck with electric can openers.  The left and right sides of my brain are arguing with each other and the cacophony inside my head is deafening.

“Just go to the store and get some, Kate.  You have the cash in your pocket.  It’s not going to break you, and you know you want it.  They‘ll sell it to you.  You don‘t need a fake I.D. to buy it now.”

“NO!  Don’t give up now!  Your health, your life, is at stake.  If you continue, you won’t have to worry whether your son had a good Christmas or not because you won’t be there to make a difference.  Sit your ass back down.”

Then the sweats come.  Even though it’s 28 degrees outside, I go from feeling like I need to streak naked on the balcony, to turning the heat up to the “Hell” setting.  Waves of nausea, panic attacks, I think I’m even hallucinating that giant Coke in the fridge.  I read somewhere that the hallucinations can last for up to 2 weeks…  Not good.

In the next months, I should expect profound confusion, disorientation, hyperactivity, and possibly a grand mal.

The cons of stopping are seeming to outweigh the pros.  Don’t they do Intervention shows about this stuff?  Maybe I need rehab.  Does Obamacare cover rehab?

This craving may kill me.  I really don’t think I’m strong enough to handle this.  When I had nothing else, I at least had this tiny outlet.  And who could really blame me after all I’ve been through?  It’s not like I sold blowjobs for crack…I could have found a much worse addiction…

I need a cigarette so bad.

January 2, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , | 6 Comments

To Write Love On Her Arms

People who have never suffered from real depression don’t understand. In fact, that’s probably the best way to know that you’ve never been seriously depressed and you should count yourself extremely lucky.

Real depression is a road that no one should have to go down, but over 131 million people do, every single day of their lives. The worst part is that over 2/3 of those people go down that road by themselves. They never find help, they never see the light at the end of their tunnel, and most often they end with substance abuse or worse, suicide.

Depression Road is what I imagine that Hell is like. Your own personal Hell. If someone was able to turn depression into a weapon of war, the human race would be obliterated. It’s lonely, it’s dark, there are monsters, and if you’re there, you can’t find a way out.

I know depression.

I know heartbreak.

I know anger, sadness, fear, humility, and guilt.

I also know courage.

The thing is, I don’t feel courageous. I’m told I am by everyone that knows me, but I don’t always see it in myself. Every single day, I’m bombarded with guilt. It’s all my fault. I have failed both of my children. One of them, so badly that I don’t have him anymore. The other one, I failed in that I wasn’t there for him when he apparently needed me the most. I’ve failed my family. I’ve failed myself.

It’s easier to fall back to that depression than it is to pull myself out of it. It’s easier to eat a half pint of cream cheese icing and sleep for hours than it is to get up and get dressed and go outside to do something. It’s easier to swallow that entire bottle of Oxycontin than it is to live with the hurt, betrayal, and heartbreak. The hardest part of all is finding help. That’s the humiliating part.

What depressed people don’t realize though (and it’s not their fault, the depression doesn’t allow them to see), is that finding help isn’t really that hard at all. You are NOT alone. You DON’T deserve this, and you CAN fix it all. You CAN start over.

Today is To Write Love On Her Arms Day. To Write Love On Her Arms is a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury, and suicide. TWLOHA exists to encourage, inform, inspire, and also to invest directly into treatment and recovery. www.twloha.com

When I picked out Carlton’s parents, when I signed the adoption papers relinquishing my rights as his parent, when I left the hospital without the baby I’d just given birth to, I knew I had done the right thing. I was just a few steps lower than what I thought rock-bottom was.

I can tell you with complete honesty, that if I’d not asked for help…I would have been six feet under, three years ago.

You are loved. Find help.

911
1-800-SUICIDE (NATIONAL HOPELINE NETWORK)
www.self-injury.com (S.A.F.E. Alternatives)
1-800-799-SAFE (NATIONAL DOMESTIC VIOLENCE HELPLINE)

I write LOVE on my arms today. If you stand still long enough, I will write LOVE on yours, too.

I love you.

November 13, 2009 Posted by | advice | , , , , , , , | 4 Comments