Rebecca Lombardo (the author of this guest post) is best known for her book: It's Not Your Journey, her writing for The Huffington Post and The Mighty and the podcast she Co-Hosts: Voices for Change.
This post will be one of three that Rebecca has kindly submitted in celebration of I'm NOT Disordered exceeding a quarter of a million readers! THANK YOU EVERYONE!
ENJOY...
ENJOY...
Rebecca Lombardo: http://www.rebeccalombardo.com/
Rebecca's Twitter: https://twitter.com/BekaLombardo
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bekalombardo/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCEoyO6kjuytYquAmZLWt7MQ
I’ve been going over and over again in my head, trying
to figure out why I feel so damn guilty every time I attempt to practice
self-care. I advise others to do it, but when it comes to me, I’m almost entirely overwhelmed by the
idea. So overwhelmed in fact, that the only thing I can do is lie down and take
a rest.
The last few months have been incredibly rough for me,
but the winter months usually are. After a leak in our house left us living in
a hotel for a month, we then had to come home and put everything back together.
Both the bathroom and the dining room had to be
remodelled, the bathroom being much worse than the dining room.
We had no dining room for Thanksgiving. We ordered
carry out turkey meals and ate them sitting on our bed. I know it sounds weird,
but it wasn’t that bad. No family drama, just us hanging out, watching movies
and relaxing. The only downside was that neither
of us saw our families. We were concerned
we would be spending Christmas in the hotel as well, but luckily we got out
just in time. It was December 23rd when we returned,
and we were barely able to throw some tissue paper into gift bags for Christmas
gifts.
I left the hotel room once the entire time we were
there. I was too afraid the staff would come in and let one of our cats out,
never mind the agoraphobia and social anxiety. I went to the laundry room. My heart
was racing the entire time, and I
dissolved into tears when I got back to the room.
Now that I’m home, I’m
virtually chained to my bed. January is always rough with the
anniversary of my mother’s death. I expect to struggle then, but all of the
other days? There are some days where I don’t even go to the lower level of my
house. That’s embarrassing for me to admit, but it’s true. If I can’t even make
it down the stairs, how the hell am I going to make it out in public?
For the last few months, the ups and downs have been
never-ending. One day, I may get good news about something, then the next day
I’ll get bad news about ten other things.
And trusting
people? Let’s just say, that concept has been
thrown out the window. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust anyone
again. Two people in our lives that we needed to
be able to rely on turned their backs on us. Then, instead of accepting their
part in the argument, just blamed it all on me being a heartless bitch that
“sucks people dry until I can’t get anything else from them, and then I throw
them away.”
That is the farthest thing from what I am. I don’t
think I’ll ever get over the epic
betrayal I feel.
I wake up every single day with a headache. If I have night terrors or a very active dream, the
headache will wake me up it hurts so bad. Instead of screaming in terror
over my dream, I’m screaming because it feels as if someone just hit me in the
head with a sledgehammer. My mom had high blood pressure,
and so does my dad. My mom also had a stroke around my age and was diagnosed
with congestive heart failure. My sister was
just diagnosed with congestive heart failure. I’m starting to see a pattern. My dad was kind
enough to buy me a blood pressure monitor,
and I’ve been using it every day. It’s nearly always high, but we’re working on
it.
I’m taking nine
different medications now for depression and anxiety and seven different
supplements to make me feel better. You would think I would feel well enough to
leave my bed. All I can think about it getting that one thing done that I need
to complete, then taking a nap.
How do you stop feeling guilty about taking care of
yourself?
At what point does self-care become an excuse? I read
the articles and the posts about taking care of yourself, but at this point, it
feels like a crutch. I don’t know how to stop,
and I start sobbing at the thought of it. Am I just lazy?
'As much as I love and adore my mom and the person that she was, she used to get very pissed off at all of us in the house. If she was going around dusting or vacuuming, she would just pitch a fit about how it must be so nice to lie around all day. Meaning, me, my dad, and my brothers. If we were in our rooms watching TV, we were just a waste of space.'
I know I’m depressed and in 2 weeks when I see my doctor, I’m going to see about switching medications, but until then what
do I do? Is this just a lack of motivation or a major depressive episode? Do I
even care? I don’t know what to do next or how to feel. I’m just lost in an abyss of darkness.
At this point, I don’t know which way is up. I’ve lost
all faith in myself and in my
instincts. I don’t feel like I can trust
anyone and the panic attacks are killing me. I always try to end on a positive
note, but I don’t know how to do that today
because I don’t have any of the answers.
Everything I’ve tried to make myself feel like a
productive member of society has failed. All of my hopes and dreams have been decimated, and I
feel so lost. I know there are others out there that feel this way. I
guess that’s what is keeping me going despite myself. I’ve spent so much time
telling people that I’m a survivor and
that they can’t give up. It’s looking like I’m going to have to start telling
myself that. I can’t just give up and make it look like it’s OK.
I’m just going to keep trying little by little to make
it through. Keeping my fingers crossed the whole time that nothing else in our
lives falls apart because I can’t handle
that right now. I’m just going to keep one foot in front of the other and try
to shrug off the feelings of guilt on the days when all I am capable of is just
simply breathing.
For more on Rebecca's personal journey visit: http://www.rebeccalombardo.com/about
And to buy Rebecca's book visit: https://www.amazon.com/dp/0692509739/ref=cm_sw_su_dp
And to buy Rebecca's book visit: https://www.amazon.com/dp/0692509739/ref=cm_sw_su_dp
