I'm overdue and I apologize.

The world spun tilting on its axis and I just had to knuckle down and ride. I should be used to the ride by now – but I'm not. I always seem to be in the rickety car of the roller coaster, the one that throws you around the seat, bumps your head and makes you nauseous. I'm off that ride for the moment and am able to deal with things a little better.

I want to tell you how I've been feeling. I want to also say that it has been hard, not to gain sympathy but to say right now, at this moment, I am okay. It isn't the end of the world or something anyone should be worried about. In my humanness, I need to get some things through my thick skull. I am not perfect and will have setbacks, moments of weakness and a run of terrible luck. This is just life for me.

If I could just make myself believe this - my life would be so much easier but my brain and its dysfunction would have me believe that I'm not supposed to be like this. That this stuff happens to weak people, that this is what happens when you do all the things you aren't supposed to do. I know these things are lies. My heart knows better and somewhere behind this ridiculousness that my brain is causing there is some knowledge that – I am fine the way I am.

I just don't know how to get out of that frame of mind sometimes, especially if there is a setback. So that's what I've been experiencing for the past few weeks. There has been anxiety over the things that are in my control and out of my control. There has been depression spikes during this sickness that I picked up and there has been feelings of doubt, auditory hallucinations and second guessing my meaning and purpose to astronomical levels of disappointment, so much that I exacerbate the depression.

I take these things hard, I cannot seem to help that. I've talked with my therapist at length about these things and she tells me that this is the nature of the illness. It's like the schizophrenia has capitalized on my rough moments and this huge set of feelings that have been all over the place. It has left me drained, out of sorts and wondering.

Wondering if there will ever come a time when it gets easier. Despite all the things I have been taught and have done to get through it, each time just feels like a new level of hell. Fresh from the can fresh. Grandma's couch wrapped in plastic fresh. Newborn baby fresh...you get what I'm saying.

In times like these, my mind likes to show me moments when I wasn't as affected by it. The memories are hurtful sometimes because now I see what my family wants – the old me. Only it's on an internal level. I see a woman who didn't have time to be sick. Who fought to stay "up" and even had to pretend there was nothing wrong. But....she seemed to have it all together when she didn't because that was what mattered – that everyone thought I had it all together. Right now I am pieces – falling apart and falling away from the bigger picture of the main puzzle.

Vital pieces of me lay strewn all over the place. Pieces of me scattered here and there. Left with people who care and don't care. Pieces of me being swept under a rug so as to cover up the things no one wants to see. Maybe I should just admit to myself that I'm broken....stop pretending. But there's something wrong with that because – I don't always feel this way. Just when things like this happen. When I can't seem to get out from under the "cloud".

I have pinpointed the exact moment the trigger was set off. It was at my anger over a situation that I spoke of here and it was all downhill from there. Picking apart the scene, getting even angrier then depressed over how I handled it. Feeling stupid for trusting someone that proved untrustworthy. Then the anxiety that spawned from it all. There was no worry, just an anxious feeling to deal with it appropriately and let that person know that it won't happen to me again.

Talked to my therapist about that as well. She said I did right to voice my concerns and that this kind of anger was warranted. It wasn't displaced.

So right now in the midst of this ordeal – I have a voice telling me how weak I am. How incredibly stupid I am and that my life is a waste. It's a very strong voice – no longer the whisper it once was but that may be due to the fact that I am actively listening to the thing. And it's all I can hear when I'm trying to rest.

See...there's a difference between sleep and rest. I sleep most nights because the Trazodone says so. But to be at rest is a hard thing for me. To have a moment to myself and relax unguarded is something I don't get to do often because of these hallucinations. When I try to rest the voices kick up when I try to think through things, the visions come and when I try to do something pleasant well then I feel pin pricks in my legs, fingers and arms. I read somewhere that that could also be a thing of anxiety, like coughing or a choking sensation I get from time to time. It's all just a bunch of madness.

I'd be lying if I said I've never wanted to escape myself. Just set my spirit loose to do everything I can't do with my body. It's hard to stay up when everything is pointing down. But I have to try. I don't want to give up despite that voice telling me to throw in the towel. I can do this.

I can.

My life isn't over. I'm still here kicking. I'm still wreaking havoc on this illness by doing the things that I wouldn't otherwise be doing. I'm still active, I haven't crawled into my shell and I haven't walked away from civilization to become a hermit. Now, there are days when I could and really want to – but what good would I be to myself? Or to anyone for that matter.

You just gotta live until you can't. You know all those awesome things people say about life...ride until the wheels fall off...if it's your last rodeo, own the bull...or something like that. Just keep pushing. Push so much that it becomes reflexive action. I love how...my words fall back on me. I'm saying things that I need to know and do. So this would be the opportune time for me to practice what I preach. So here I go....

I will find a way to enter into the Lord's rest while I still live. I will take his yoke upon me and know an easier burden.

I will rest and listen to all the music I own and then some to keep my mind mellowed.

I will...maybe...perhaps go back to my first love...drawing and painting.

And I will pray more vigilantly for my peace and for the rest I wish to have.

So here it is for you.....

May the Lord of Peace bless you with his yoke, his rest and his love.

I thank you all for sitting through this...next time I will deliver something more lighthearted. There needs to be a break between these heavy things, they also help put me in a better mood.

As always thanks for reading.