PsyD Stress Out

So, I have decided, with a little bit of pushing and nudging from Dr. C to go back to school.  For my PsyD in Child and Family.  I know, right?

I've talked about it before, and now seems to be a good time to go for it.  I need something positive in my life to work towards, and I am such a school nerd.  I am taking an Adult Psychology course right now at the community college where I work, and I love it.  I know that I can be successful in a program like this, but I didn't expect the application process to be so stressful!

In the past, when I have asked people for references to get a new job, I was always greeted with an "Of course."  But asking someone for a reference for a Doctoral program, I have gotten a lot of shut and locked doors.  So frustrating.  Right now I have my current employer and my advisor from my Master's program who are willing to write one for me,  but I need one more.  Last night, I got myself so worked up about it that I was physically sick.  Today, I wrote Dr. C this morning and said that I was just going to put the whole process aside for the day and breathe.  I am not looking to start until Sept 2014 anyway, so I have time.

I also had a pretty deep conversation with Dr. C about what happens if I start the program and have another breakdown.  She is pretty convinced that that phase is behind us and that we are working towards recovery/maintenance right now.  I am glad that at least she is confident of that because I feel like I could fall apart any day now.  I think she's doing that whole "If I tell her she's ok, she might believe and act as if" routine.  And I am pretty sure that I am falling for it.

Anyway, I will keep you all posted with the status of the application and how things are going.  Anyone out there want to give me a letter of rec?

10 years from now

Where will you be 10 years from now?

It's the year 2023.

Wow, 2023....that sounds so far away!

L will be a Junior in high school, Big A is a sophomore.  What school they will be at depends on a variety of factors and circumstances that could happen between now and then.  I would like them to be at either Loyola High School or St. Viator's High School.  This will, solely, be based on our household financials at the time.  Little A will be in his final year at St. Emily, and Jim and I will be preparing to accept the Golden Eagle award, which is given to families who have gone above and beyond the call of duty during the time their children attended the school.

We will be living in a new house, well, new to us at least.  It will have 5 bedrooms, enough for each child to have their own and for me to have an office where I can close the door and just be.  It will sit on at least an acre of land, J's dream, and will have a pool.  The basement will be newly refinished, and it will be the main "hangout" for the kids and all their friends.  The new house will also have a large front porch with oversized wooden rocking chairs, just like you see when you go to Cracker Barrel.

As for me, I will be teaching at a local University and very happy with my position.  I will be the type of professor who is firm, yet has an open door policy that students use frequently.  I will either have a private practice on the side, or I will work for the school's Counseling Center and help students through the various crises that come up during those years of adjustment and growth.  Hopefully, I will still be seeing you on a regular basis as you have decided not to retire. (Because, right now, imagining you retire would throw me in a crisis!)

J and I will be more in love than we are now, if that's possible.  We certainly will be more relaxed since our children are growing up beautifully and our money situation will have calmed.  We will be able to take vacations and weekend trip without children, which will only prove to strengthen our bond.  Our trips will include going to our neighbor's lake house in Michigan, finally getting to Outer Banks, North Carolina, and planning our big family vacation after Little A graduates to Europe.

I will be happy.  I will be content.  I will know that I have the love of a good man to guide me through the tough times, although they will be further and further apart.  I will have children who, for the most part, want to talk to me and tell me what's going on in their lives.  I will have friends, friends who come over for just a cup of coffee or a glass of wine and to chat.  They will not be high maintenance friendships, but light and easy.

I will be happy.

Just do it

Yup.....I'm gonna do it.....Just going to suck it up and do it.

I'm going to apply for the PsyD program at the Illinois School for Professional Psychology.

It's my dream, and I am going to reach for it.  I have already sent requests to people for forms of recommendation, and I filled out the actual application.  I still have to write my statement of intent.  I am little worried about that, but I know that I am an excellent writer (smiles), so hopefully that should be easy.

The downside, $$$$.  I will have enough in student loans to more than cover the tuition, but it's the every day bills that we will need to cover.  The kids go to private school, and I am not sure that's something that I am willing to sacrifice.  We can probably cut down on the cable bill and the cell phones, going out to eat and Starbuck's coffees will be a luxury item instead of a staple.  I have always been good with the grocery bill and keeping the house stocked, but I can do it for about $75 a week. 

And, it's only 5 years.

5 years.  Wow, that's not a lot of time.  5 years ago I had two babies and was pregnant with my third.  I had just completed my Master's Degree and had a great job at DeVry University. 

Time flies.

I just need a little more self confidence that I can do this.  And I am working on that with Dr. C.  And I will get there.

Lack of Sleep

Ugg....another day (night?) that I have been awake since 3:30AM.  Wide awake.  Awake enough to think I can write a decent blog post.  Listening to 70's music on  YouTube to get me going.

Yesterday was so up and down; I feel that I am still riding a roller-coaster.  This decision of whether I am going to go back to school for my PsyD is crazy.  I need to stop listening to other's thoughts and go with my gut.  My gut says to go for it.  However, there is still that little voice in the back of my head that is telling me that this might not be the best time.  We know how we can pay for school, but how will we pay to live?  The program is 5 years, at about $113,000, and if I was not working we would loose about $225,000 in income over those years.  That's a lot to think about.  Maybe we could win a lotto?  Or find a rich relative?

I have to say, though, that my MDD is SO much better when I am thinking forward.  Dr. C and I touched on this yesterday in session....that I need to be more forward thinking and less backward/depression thinking.  My "depression cycles" have been running every two weeks now instead of 6, and I need to do something, like thinking forward, to break this pattern.  Do you know how exhausting it is to be hospital-grade suicidal every two weeks?  It's not fun.

Today is busy; 2nd appointment with Dr C this week since we had to miss Monday, and then some training at work on a new computer system.  Fun.  This weekend, however, should be fun as we are supposed to be going apple picking at our favorite farm on Saturday!  The weather here has been all over the place, from 98 on Tuesday to 65 today....and it should feel like an awesome fall weekend!

6AM Muffins

I have gotten into a bad habit.  :)

I started, about two weeks ago, to make fresh muffins for my kids before they went to school.  It was a guilt thing, the depression was bad and I knew that I wasn't paying as much attention to them as I should.  It was also a way to try and start the day off on a good foot.  It worked (kind-of) for a limited time, but now the issue is they want them every day!  I agreed to 2-3 days a week, but have slacked this week since L has strep throat and we haven't been getting much sleep.

I woke up this morning after having a dream about getting my PsyD.  Ahh... it was a good dream.  I have been wanting to get back into a Graduate Program since I started one in 2009 but didn't finish.  But the cost, OMG, as I calculated it all out, almost $120,000!  We are struggling to pay the mortgage and my previous student loans right now, let alone add on more debt.  So, I did the next logical thing which is to search for Scholarships.  If I was from Non-European dissent and I was willing to work in underprivileged areas, I would be set.  Sigh...back to the drawing board.

I also had this BRILLIANT idea that I emailed Dr. C about....I have been struggling in our sessions to talk and express my needs, but I can write her an e-mail about it in no time.  I am thinking that pre-session I am going to write it out, as if I am sending her an e-mail, and then print and take it.  That way if I get caught up, I will have it in front of me as a go to.  Like a shopping list for a grocery store.  I am sure I am far from the first person to think of that, but whatever works, right?

The Blanket

She pulls the blanket up to her chin, curling up her arms with fisted hands.  Rolling onto her left side, she cuddles in tighter, bringing in her knees as close as she can to her stomach.  The blanket, she believes, acts as a shield.  It's protecting her from all that is outside.  Because she knows that he is out there, and he lays in wait for her to drop her guard and dare to get out of bed.
Tears fall over the bridge of her nose and drop onto the pillow below her.  She had promised herself that she would not give into him, that she would and could be stronger than that.  She had given in so many times before, with disastrous results on each occurrence.  But her defenses have surely been weakened by all these attacks, and her heart wasn't in it for another fight.
Chills ran up her backbone and up to the little hairs on the back of her neck as she felt the Lion enter her bedroom.  He paced up and down the end of the California King bed...making it take only two strides and having all the confidence in the world.  His loud, hot breathes made her stomach turn; she knew she was in trouble.  She scrunched her eyes tighter and prayed to a God she wasn't sure was even there that He would make the Lion go away.
A deep rumble of dark laughter came from him.
"You cannot pray me away," he scoffed.  "I am not going anywhere until you are dead."
Her eyes blazed open.  Terror filled her already tightened chest.  The Lion stopped his pacing, and placed his two front paws on the end of the bed.  She curled in even closer to herself, not wanting any part of her body to feel him.
Slowly, she felt the blanket being pulled off of her.  She tried to hold on tight to the top of the blanket and pull back, but the fight was useless.  He removed her protector, and then easily leaped onto the bed.  She rolled on to her stomach, arms underneath her, head twisted to the side, as if this would protect her more.  He slowly slid up beside her.  She could feel his mane sweep up the side of her left arm; her shoulder jumped.  He was breathing in her ear, and the tears that were slowly falling before began to pick up the pace until there was almost a waterfall coming out of her eyes.
"Just do it," he said, motioning to her side table.  She glanced up.  It was full of pills, prescription and over-the-counter, whatever she could get her hands on.  She had put them there to just look at them, to just think about what would or what could happen. 
"I don't think I want to," she stuttered.
"Yes, you do," he laughed at her.  "Why else would you go through all this trouble?"
She thought about her daughter, sick in the other room, but sleeping.  She looked at the clock and wondered when her husband would be home.  She was supposed to be going to work, and he was coming home to watch the sick babe.  Was there enough time?  Was the Lion right?  Should she just do it?
The lion easily straddled her on the bed, and with one front paw, forced her to turn over.  She sat up quickly, terrified of what he might do next.
"Take that one first," he motioned to a prescription that she just had filled.  It was an older prescription for sleeping pills.  30 pills.  Shaking, she took the bottle and easily opened the childproof cap.  She poured nine to ten pills in her hand, shocked that they were so little.  Such little pills could do so much damage, she thought.  The Lion handed her a cup, smiling.
"Do it.  You know you want to," he laughed at her.  She looked at him, locked eyes, popped the handful of pills in her mouth, and took the cup from his hands.  She hesitated only for a second before swallowing the overdose. "More," he instructed her.  "Take the rest."  In two more handfuls, she had emptied the contents of the bottle into her empty stomach.  Fear filled her, and she wondered if she should run into the master bathroom and make herself vomit the pills up.  Her thought pattern was broken as the lion handed her another bottle.  She repeated the process, again and again until there were 5 empty bottles on her nightstand.
"Rest, now," he instructed her.  He dismounted the bed, and tossed the discarded blanket back at her.  She held the top and tossed the rest towards the bottom of the bed, watching it fall down like a landing kite.  She laid back down on her bed, and assumed the same curled up position that she had previously.  Her tears had long stopped, but the pillow remained wet and stained from the previous session.  The Lion circled three times, and laid on the ground next to her bed.  He was going to guard her, make sure that she remained on the bed and let the poison do its job.
She closed her eyes.  The decision that she had been attempting to make was final done.  It was all done.  Her body relaxed, she let her mind think of sweet memories.  She took a deep breath, and just let death happen.

Unspoken Silence

I wanted to make homemade mashed potatoes for dinner. They are his favorite, and I was making a traditional Sunday dinner anyway: 7 pound chicken, mashed potatoes, asparagus, and biscuits. My daughters and I had baked a cake early in the afternoon, a special treat usually reserved for parties and birthdays, but tonight it seemed needed. We were pretending, after all. We do that a lot lately.

Peeling potatoes is thought provoking. Standing over the sink, slow upward strokes, bits of brown skin falling into a beige plastic Jewel bag. It makes me feel compelled to write, to put down all my thoughts in hopes they will one day be appreciated. I desperately want to get it all out, the chatter that goes through my head. If I can get it down on paper, if I can make it real, it cannot haunt me.

I keep peeling, keep stroking. We have been pretending all day, pretending that everything is fine, that we are functioning normally. To the naked eye we are; we are probably even doing well to most. Fresh breakfast of bacon and eggs, shopping for an early birthday present, take-out lunch, baking in the kitchen on a Sunday afternoon, the table fully set for a full dinner. We have made love, twice, looking to fill the void. The kids have scurried around the house, building a fort in the living room, playing school and house, arguing and bickering, figuring out how to resolve it themselves.

But there is an unspoken silence. Listen, do you hear it? It's there. The words do not need to be said, but they are screaming from the bottom of my lungs. Unhappiness. Depression. Failure. Anger.  Suicide.

The peeler slips, and knicks my knuckle. I drop it and instinctively suck the wound. It doesn't hurt more than a smart, yet tears come to my eyes.  I shake them away, shaking away with it the emotions of the day.  I must pretend.  I must press on.  I must keep silent.