Today was an amazing day. Sometimes I forget that God is so good to me because other things seem so out of control. I finally learned how to set my not so new now alarm clock and it woke me this morning. This was a good thing because all this time I have had this wonderfully annoying alarm and could not figure out how to set it. Now for at least awhile I have an alarm that will wake me, this will end my dependence on Mom to wake us up in the mornings.

I ate cereal, dressed and carried Alex to his job. He is working at a lawnmower repair shop. It is a good first job. Yesterday he touched a hot muffler and blistered his hand and I got upset that he was hurt, but he has to learn to take care of himself somewhere. I cannot always be there to protect him.

I went to the partial hospitalization program. I really missed this program while I was hospitalized because I had made some friends and the structure of the program is very good for me. Today I talked about my irrational thoughts and delusions. The counselors helped me come up with ways to reframe the thoughts so that they were not negative and now for the first time in years I feel like I have a way to deal with what has led to my hospitalization so many times. They said I should use affirmations like: I am a likeable person and have friends who care about me, I am a modern woman and a good person, and God loves me and I am saved by his grace. That last one is just a furtherance for the one before that I came up with on the spur of the moment here, but it relates to those delusions about being a terrible character out of the Bible. They also suggested that I use first, second, and third person saying the affirmations to help make them real for me. Also they suggested that I write them, say them, post them in prominent places, and record them to play back to myself. I am hoping that this will be effective.

Mom cooked hamburgers for supper and those were very good. I was glad she cooked so I did not have to do so. I am cooking again, not liking it, but I need to do it. Alex needs good food after working all day.

I played Bejeweled 2 a bit tonight. I did not do very well but it was relaxing. I had not done that in months. I also used Photoshop a little and did a small drawing I did not save. That program is wonderful. I cannot wait until I have some time to actually learn to use it. I have a feeling I can do miracles with that software.

Just wanted you all to know things are going better than yesterday. I did not write because I was in a mess last night. Every time I start into the negative thought patterns now I become afraid of going back in the hospital. It is very scary for me.

Smiles,

Jo Ann

Sorry I left without saying anything. I had to go in hospital again from June 5 to June 14. I went way off the deep end and no one here could get me to cooperate. I am not sure I am much better but I am not acting so weird that I scare my family so that is one thing. I will be attending the partial hospitalization program during the week. I think that will be helpful for a while.

I hated the hospital stay. It was not fun. I did not learn much while I was there because I did not participate in what was offered. My memory of the time I spent there is sketchy. I think I was really in a fog due to my psychosis and medication changes. I am much clearer now. I know what I am doing and what is going on around me.

Unfortunately I lost some things. There were some poems on my desk that evidently fell in the garbage and got burned while I was gone and the ring Alex gave me that was like his graduation ring disappeared sometime during the first day I was hospitalized. I am so sad about this because that ring and the poetry meant a great deal to me and are irreplaceable.

This disease sucks. It not only disturbs my life and relationships, it robs me of things I value. How does one fight an enemy that is part of oneself without destroying the self in the process? I know so little how to minimize the damage when all the world around me fades away. The danger not only encompasses myself and others around me, it extends into the world and my environment. I am not safe to be, much less to act when I am out of control. The delusions, paranoia, and hallucinations take me away from what little reality I grasp and drop me in a terrifying country where there is no one else. The isolation and loneliness are hell for me, and I cannot clearly express what I experience there to anyone. No wonder my greatest fear is going to hell, I visit its territory every time I become unbalanced. Not even the love of God is evident to me when I go there. I am lost and so alone.

I am taking 4mg or Risperdal daily now. I am not sure that it is any better than what I was taking, but I know that I do not have patients assistance set up for it so I will not be able to continue it beyond the first month unless we can set it up soon. I cannot afford to pay for medication with all the other things for which I must pay. I have this feeling that I must soon learn to cope without the medication anyway, I know it will be hard but I have done it in the past. Those times when I was without medication were the ones when I achieved something with my life. I need to achieve again no matter what risk that entails. I must accomplish some things or give up living.

I am not a chicken shit, but a survivor, so I will go on. There is no way that I will allow my condition to win over me. I may have been overcome briefly in recent times, but I am not defeated. The life I live is to God not to be destroyed by some dementia. I know that I will have difficult days, but any life is subject to such. It is how we deal with the difficulty that sets us apart and shows our stamina. With the help of God I am not weak but strong and shall come into victory.

I did not write while I was away this time, my mind was fractured with paranoid Schizophrenic chaos and there was no putting down cognizant thought. In such a state I could not think reasonably. I am lucky to come back to some semblance of normalcy. I know right now that I am weaker than I would like. My mind has spaces that are obscured by fog, but this will improve with time I hope.

Hope is the thing. Without hope there is no reason to plunge forward into the next sentence. Without hope all the battles are lost, as is the war. Without hope we are all prisoners with no hope of redemption. Hope is the light that allows us to conclude there is something yet for us to say, to achieve, and to accomplish. Hope is the power that makes us continue the fight despite our losses. Hope reminds us that freedom is our legacy from generation to generation. God does not intend us to live in darkness, but loves us enough to inspire us with hope for a bright future where truth shines for our understanding.

I hope all of you are well and apologize for leaving so abruptly. I shall try to stay well enough to remain at home, but right now I can make no promises. I am not certain what moment to moment will hold for me. It is always that way for all of us, but just now it is less reasonable than usual for me to have any expectation of what life will be like in a second. I only hope for clarity, it is not something of which I can be certain.

Smiles,

Jo Ann

Just to let you know that things are very busy here. Alex came home last Friday and has decided to stay here for the Summer because there is more to do here than with his father. He has gotten a job and is working this morning. We are going up to Chattanooga to recover his clothes this evening.

I am not doing well at all. I am definitely having delusions, obsessive thoughts, and hallucinations, but I am trying to cope. I kinda know what is going on but am very scatterbrained. I can not keep up with my keys, manage paperwork, or do much that is constructive right now. The paranoia is extremely bad.

I know some of you really care about me so I wanted to let you know I am still in the partial hospitalization program, but I am not really progressing. Things in group frighten me terribly. There was a man there yesterday who yelled several times that we were all going to hell. He even named each of us and it just fed my paranoia and delusions. I really want to quit the program. I come home so stressed I do not act normally here. Alex says I need to go back in the hospital, but I do not want to go back in because I lose so much there. I really need to learn to deal with people, but the way things are I do not feel any better. I usually just deal with all the psychosis by withdrawing from life, but that has not made me productive and competent so I want more. I cannot stay in my house or with someone I know every day for the rest of my life. I have to learn to cope, but I am not doing it well at all.

I am having a great deal of difficultly writing this and it is taking an awful long time. I hope all of you are doing well.

Smiles,

Jo Ann

Yesterday was Alex’s seventeenth birthday and I took him out to dinner. My final luxurious expenditure until I figure out how the heck I am going to fix this mess I have made. Alex had a steak for the first time in memory at a restaurant and he loved it. I was proud. I wanted him to have something to remember.

My brother said something that cut me to the bone again yesterday, but I cannot let that define me. His opinion has little worth to me anyway considering how he regards me.

I was not expecting Jesse to attack me about Alex last night but he did, I just added him to the list of people who want to rant when I don’t meet their expectations. I think at least he received in kind, because I was rather upset when he lit into me.

Today I saw Brenda and Dr. Klopper and that went well. I think I must be doing better for Dr. Klopper to move my appointments out to a month again. I still am not doing as well as I would like and Brenda is  terribly concerned that I need more therapy, but there is some improvement.

The intensive after-care program starts Thursday, but I have a feeling I will not stay with it long. There are just too many other demands on my time. I really feel a need to take charge and redefine my standing as someone strong enough to play tough. I know in reality I am somewhat weak because of my illnesses but I have a very strong and resourceful intellect and there must be some way to use that to better my situation. It may leave others to fend for themselves more, but I have been taking care of some people at my expense for a long time.

I think my resume sucks and I really don’t see how I am going to get a job. I am not stupid and I am skilled in quite a few things. My computer knowledge is rather deep and I am very good with a cash register. I can sell things too. Surely there has to be someone who will give me a chance despite the fact I have not been in the work force in a very long time.

I am not very happy right now, in fact hopelessness and depression are wearing mightily on my heart and soul. I feel like everyone here in real-life is trying to steal what little goodness I have achieved from me. Mom said last night that I had a purpose and I just told her that I no longer could follow that line. Purpose is something one has when they are able to accomplish something of merit. I am going nowhere now and headed backwards fast. That is not a gainful thing.

Maybe it will turn around sometime, but everything now and near looks dark and foreboding and my energy to make it all good is limited.

I want to reach out and grab something positive, but I don’t know where to turn now. All the influences I turn to have closed their doors to me and turned their backs. I have entered regions where the markings say Abandon All Hope.

I think I have to reach inside to find the spark but fear that it has finally gone out. I just don’t think that I can light it all up right now and that is always what has held me up before.

I hope each of you has better days and times filled with inspiration.

Counselors were not much good for me during many years when they so earnestly tried to help me. There was a wall between us. A silence I would not break. I could speak to a point then I would close up. There were others to be protected by my quiet. The wall was the sexual abuse my father heaped on me all my life. I could not reveal it for it would destroy my world and the dependant worlds of others. My mother was a beneficiary of this silence and my father was saved from prison by my quiet.

After he died in 1996 I finally told my current counselor what I had buried for so many years. We began to work through the accumulated damage of so many years. Mary was her name and I owe her a great deal for being gentle with me and listening to a story too disturbing for many to hear. She worked with me tirelessly for a few years, but shortly after I wrote a poem to her detailing the greatness I saw in her she moved out of county mental health. At the time I was handed over to a new counselor who Mary told, "Jo Ann is the kind of person who could have books written about her."

My new counselor Braswell did not even get to see me for many months because I was bedridden due to my pregnancy with twins who had twin to twin transfusion syndrome. That pregnancy ended when one twin died in my uterus and I had to make the horrible decision to terminate the remaining twin due to complications described by the neonatal specialist. When Braswell began to see me our connection was immediate and I told her some of the darkest secrets still hidden in me. She reacted with love and acceptance. Her kindness gave me hope that I could live in the world with others who valued me.

When I told Braswell how afraid of Hell I was because of the unpardonable sin, she went to find all she could to allay my fears. She went to authorities in her church and asked for clarification and came back armed with facts to set my fears aside. She loved me enough to go out beyond her own self and search for help for me.

While Braswell was still seeing me Dr. Klopper offered me to get involved with a trainee named Brenda. She was working toward licensure from her RN status. It was free to me and allowed me to have more frequent visits. Brenda began recording our sessions with my permission to help her get through school. Not long after Brenda finished her studies Braswell moved from county mental health to a wonderful private facility. Now I cannot see her anymore.

Recently Brenda has moved to only two days a week at Dr. Klopper’s office. This has put me in the position where everyone wants me in the intensive after-care program. I know there is still enough of all the damage that wrecks havoc on me still buried inside to cause me a great deal of problems. I am working on it all, but my emotions are not stable or healed.

Alex’s grandparents came and took Alex and I to Longhorn for lunch. We had cheese fries for an appetizer. I had a steak that was absolutely divine. This time it was cooked to perfection medium rare on the rare side. I love it when the cook knows what I mean. Some sear the outside too much until it is charred, but this time it was perfect. Alex ate a bite and was impressed. I keep hoping to convince him to make the leap from burgers to steak, but he still has not graduated to that degree of finesse.

They liked our Jeep and looked at it. We talked some about my illness and they seem more open to me than usual. Alex went to bed and left me up with them. He was up late last night and wanted a nap. I was surprised that they decided to give me some money to help with our bills. They donated $300.00 and I was very grateful. I know that solving this mess is much larger than such a sum, but at least it showed they cared about our plight.

I am not sure there is much I can do about all the creditors, but next week maybe I can try to call some of them and explain what has caused the current problems. I do not expect any understanding, but at least I can tell them the truth. I am not a bad person, I am just in circumstances beyond my control. Truth is my control has been limited for many years.

I read the comment by Reeking Havoc today and I was thinking about what he said. The thing is that Schizophrenia has been a prominent part of my diagnosis for many years. I often have audible hallucinations and I suffer from delusions on a good many of my better days. Mostly I just function in spite of this. The Schizo-affective disorder tag was only applied to me since 1997 when I began to evidence huge amounts of depression as a part of my everyday life. I have been on anti-psychotics anytime I was medicated since 1981 and on anti-depressants since 1997. I will go off meds when I am not under stress and function normally for some time on rare occasion. I hate meds. They take away my ability to be normal and I am not happy with them ever. Since 2000 I have been continuously medicated. I have been on Geodon and Zoloft all during those years and also have been on the hideous drug called Seroquel for part of that time. I came off of it in January of this year. It was causing sleep disturbances that I could not tolerate any longer. It had also caused weight gain that was beginning to reverse before my latest hospitalization. Now I have had a full blown manic psychosis which probably pushes me over into the category of bi-polar too. I am now on Geodon to treat the psychotic tendencies of the Schizophrenic part of my disease and Depakote which is a mood stabilizer to treat the Bi-polar symptoms.

This past week the delusional bits of my Schizophrenic parts were very apparent to me. I was thinking in the erratic and laughable ways that tell me I am being just a little too bizarre for reality. It is not really dangerous it just lets me know how totally insane I really am. I think things that are way to weird about normal situations and if I allow it to go on I wing out of reality totally. I just monitor it and let my counselors know I am becoming loony. I find it mostly benign, just so long as it is not accompanied by voices that are virulent in their enmity toward me. I can even deal with bleed through voices usually, this happens when machines, televisions, radios, printers, electronic devices, and other miscellaneous noise producers seem to be projecting voices, say when many are running at once. I deal with this often by simply putting on headphones and listening to music. A good walkman is indispensable for me for this purpose and was recommended by Jeff and then seconded by Dr. Klopper. I can usually calm myself when I am even having audible hallucinations just by listening to my own discs.

I have learned a lot of coping skills over the years and can seem rather normal, but the reality of what  I live with is only hidden by a faint surface veneer. I am very scared by this new manifestation of yet another type of dreaded disease. I feel reasonably safe to find very little hope for achieving any of my dreams and I still had a lot I wanted to do. I have lived an impoverished and inadequate existence for so many years and now it just looks like more of it to come. I hate my life, I never achieve any of the high points I so desire.

Mother is putting me down again. She wants to blame me. She has no conception of what living the life I have been forced to live has done to me. I have lived to protect her for so many years and even now she cannot realize that my life was hell on earth before I can even remember. She has no idea how the abuse I was subject to and her own brand of scathing hurtfulness tore my being apart. The kind of damage I was doled out is irreparable.

Again I understand why others in such situations choose suicide. Living is not a choice of lesser pain. I could let go all this and be released into something no doubt better. Dealing with the problems is continuing hellish hurt. I do not even know why I remain, there is no sense to it. I have been suicidal before, trying several times, but it never worked. I guess I have become convinced I cannot even do that right. People tell me that since God did not allow me to die that I must have some purpose, I find that doubtful. I just cannot do anything successfully. I find it laughable that God gives a care one way or another about me. Mostly He seems some bystander who watches. My faith is at very low ebb. I find little solace in prayer, it seems just empty words to some anonymous entity.

I wonder what is good about writing in this blog. I seem to myself so cheerless that it would be better did I leave others to find other more worthwhile material. I know I cannot be proud of anything I say here in such dark moods. I pour forth darkness on the world. I can only speak from a heart so broken and despairing of life that it bleeds. I relate to Poe in his deep darkness and may go and find him again as he is the only writer that appeals to such relentless despair in me. In such times as this I have often mired my life in that great writer’s works. I know the depths are calling me when I seek out that master, but he only appeals. Poe is in the outbuilding hidden away so finding him will be difficult, but the search might satisfy the overwhelming sadness that engulfs me. Nevermore sounds soothing, like the approach of doom.

I have no idea how to be up for Alex’s 17th Birthday which is Monday. He deserves something special as he is a great person despite having one of the most screwed up mothers in the world. I think if I just disappeared and allowed him to get on with his life with no more interference from me that he would make it well. I am more a detriment to him by now than ever I have been an asset. I guess I will try to take him out for a nice dinner and make sure he at least enjoys that much. I wish I could get him something, but that is beyond me.

I wish there was something hopeful and positive I could share with you who read me here, but there just is not anything of that type in my heart. I am sorry to be so disappointing. Maybe another day will come and some of my better characteristics will arise, I doubt it just now, but even when one no longer believes miracles can happen on the odd and weird occasion.

I survived, guess that is something considering the alternative. I hope tomorrow is less stressful. I begin to get the idea leaving the hospital was really stupid on my part.

Just saying hello and wishing everyone the best.

Smiles,

Jo Ann

I really do not feel much better than yesterday. There are so many problems that are besetting me right now. My financial situation is so dismal I do not think there is any way I can sort it out. I have so overextended myself that it would take major action beyond my limited means to sort it all out. I went so far as to ask Alex’s father to help me because he has done only minimal support for Alex for so many years and he so reacted that I felt like I must be an imbecile to even ask. I know I have put my ass on the line, but I really thought I could somehow provide a better life for us. Now I know my health will not support me at this time.

I really wish that someone hugely wealthy who helps out people who live with dire tragedy like my life has been since I can remember knew about my son and I. Sometimes I think the only reason no one helps us is because they really are not aware of us. I guess maybe there are stories that are lots worse, but I know being me and being my son is harder than most would ever dream.

Today, I just keep crying… I cried at the bank where I had to clear up all the overdrafts on my accounts that I made while I was manic… I cried at SAM’s club where I had to pay the huge sum of bounced checks that I would have never done had I been in control. I cried when I was in session with my counselor because I am so afraid she might not want to be my counselor anymore or that she might leave. She does not even get paid to see me and I know that is not fair to her because she is really good and I should not take up time for which she should be reimbursed. The nurse came in to see me and sat with me today and I cried again. We talked about how badly I feel because I do not contribute to society by having a job and doing what I should for my son. My doctor got a dose of tears too… seems he at least thought I was a little better anyway. He is going to see me next week for free because my Medicare will not pay for more than one session a month.

I come here and all I can do is cry. I just hurt so bad. There is so much I want to do and be, but I just am so weak. The tears are not really a pity party, they are more about grief and hurt. I do try in the ways I know how so hard to achieve something and it seems so little when measured out against what I actually accomplish.

I tried to accept responsibility for my life today. That was not easy after such total disregard for all I hold dear, but I managed to come out feeling a little better.

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day… I hope so… Thanks for reading. Your comments, prayers and encouragement help me every time I read.

Smiles,

Jo Ann