My Emotional Cycle

**WARNING: This is a long and personal post (can't say I didn't warn you).

Last night, I was reading some old blog posts from 2 and 3 years ago. I liked my writing style back then. I almost always included personal thoughts on each blog post. Lately, it feels like my blog writing style is more of a narrative nature. I tell you about things that happened, instead of how I feel about what happened. It's a less personal approach to writing about my life...but writing in this way also feels like less of a connection between me and my life. In my defense, I feel like I don't even have deep thoughts or feelings anymore, though, so writing in the narrative style is all I am able to do. I go through this certain emotional phase, I know because this has happened before and I've learned to recognize what's happening. This particular emotional cycle goes like this (if I could draw a circle with arrows and write words about the arrows on here, I would):

1. feel happy and love life, make emotional connections to everyone and everything, feel and think deeply, invest time in relationships with others.

2. feel overrun with life, separate myself from connections, overthink others' actions and words, remove myself from relationships with others.

3. feel apart from life, not interested in making connections, focus on self and day-to-day functions, spend time with just self and family.

4. feel sad with choices in life, reach out to connect with others, turn my thoughts over to God, renew my hope in having relationships with others.
(REPEAT CYCLE)

Right now I am in step 3 of the emotional phase. The entire cycle isn't a fast, repetitive one, it's slow and gradual. The last time I was in this specific state was 3 years ago. This time, though, it feels different. I don't know if it's my mind or my age, but I'm perfectly content to not do things with friends anymore or to invest my time in relationships that will ultimately not last forever. I'm tired of opening up myself and completely trusting someone just to be hurt and my heart broken and my trust shattered. It takes so long for me to get over being deeply hurt.

I was in step 1 for a very long time--about a year and a half. Last fall, I began entering step 2. I felt overwhelmed and stressed with lack of time, and too many things that needed to be done. So, I started cutting myself off from activities and people so that I could focus and remian afloat. On the last day of the school before Christmas Break, I had a meltdown. That was the turning point into step 3.

That morning was the Kindergarten Christmas Program. This was the first Kindergarten Christmas Program I'd directed, because the previous year I started the job in February, so Christmas had passed before I was hired. I had an idea at the beginning of the school year of what I wanted to do: a program all about stars. I wanted the kids to sing songs all about stars, and have a story told about the stars in sky, the Christmas star, the star on the top of the Christmas tree, and the sharing star we pass around class. I found a book that was perfect to use as the narration. It told the story of the littlest star in the sky, and about a rumor that a king would soon be born on earth and the brightest star would get to shine on him. The other stars made fun of the little star for being so small, and the little star thought it was not good enough to do anything. The big stars all prepared themselves for the big day, and dusted and twinkled themselves. But then the night the baby was born, none of the other stars would shine so bright because they didn't believe it was the king, so the little shar shined brighter than any of them, and ended up burning itself out. So to remember the star every year for the gift it gave to the baby king, we put a star on the top of the Christmas tree. After every page or two of the narration, we sang a song that correlated with the story: "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star", "I am like a star", "Beneath the Christmas Star", "Do you see what I see", and so on. There were 10 songs all about stars, and some of them I changed the lyrics to so that it would work with the story. I worked for 2 months on it, and I was so proud of my creation. I edited the story so that it was less religious, and the focus was on the star. I sent a copy of the program to my music supervisor, the principal, and the superintendent to make sure that it would be alright according to religion vs. state laws. They all said it was fine. So I proceeded with teaching the Kindergarten students the star songs beginning in October.

Right before Thanksgiving, a fellow colleague whose daughter was in Kindergarten, posted on facebook that she couldn't believe her daughter was singing religious songs that she didn't teach her. She said that whoever is teaching her daughter had no right. I replied back that I'd been teaching the Kindergarteners songs about stars for the Christmas program, and none of them had a religious message. I said that one of the songs said "the star shone bright on the night the baby king was born", and she replied back saying that was the one. She said that she would be pulling her daughter out of music class because, (and i quote) "I just don't want any overly zealous, hyped-up religious fanatics teaching my kid that they are right and the rest of the world is horrible, wrong people who they are better than… and gee… they sure are glad they’re not going to hell like everybody else who is not “like them”."  I've never once taught my students at school about religion, nor have I ever spoke about my religion. I was completely dumbfounded that she would say that publicly on facebook, and about me as a school teacher! There were several of her friends who have children that I also teach, and I was so disheartened. I felt even more upset because I had created the program entirely and I was so proud of it, and I had tried to edit out the religion aspect of it. The students never sang the word "Jesus" or "God", and only the one song mentioned the word "baby king". I thought this woman was my friend, and we used to get along great in AND out of school. I had babysat her daughter, I had substituted for her, she had taught my son, we had been friends at MOPS. I couldn't believe she would turn on me like that. It was ugly, and I was hurting. Because I knew that my program had already been approved by the music supervisor, the principal, and the superintendent, I still went ahead with it. The children had already learned 8 of 10 songs by that point, and I couldn't change it then anyways. My only choice was to either go ahead with it, or have no Christmas program whatsoever, and I wasn't about to let one parent ruin it for the other 50 kids.

Of course, it went great, and I heard rave reviews from other parents and grandparents after the performance; one of the grandparents just this week even told me how much they enjoyed the Kindergarten Christmas and Graduation programs this year. I know I made the right choice to proceed with it, but it was difficult to when I felt so hated and betrayed and wrongly accused and publicly humiliated.

The day of the Kindergarten Christmas program was crazy... That morning, I taught a class who had been naughty during their previous classtime and had to be disciplined (several of them were in a situation where they pulled the fire alarm and lied about it). I couldn't teach in my class room because parents were reserving spots and waiting for the Christmas program to begin in there, so I taught the first class of the day in a different building and a different classroom, and I had to carry all my supplies to that room. After teaching them, and disciplining them in a creative and non-harsh way, then I carried all the supplies back to my classroom, and had about 5 minutes to compose myself before introducing myself and starting the musical program. Then the program happened, and immediately following, I had to take down chairs, close the temporary wall, and move equipment while parents and the kids were eating refreshments in the back because I had more classes right after it. Well, during it all, I'd forgotten that I'd signed up to bring a soup for Jonah and Micah's class lunch party that day. I'd made it the night before and put it in the fridge, and I was going to take it into my office and put it in a crockpot and plug it in that morning, but I was running late with Kanyon and never had time to take it out of the car and plug it in before school started. So I thought I would just plug it in after the Christmas program, but then I forgot because I was rearranging my classroom for the next two classes. At about 11:00 that day, I was teaching 4th graders, and I suddenly remembered the soup in my car that needed to be ready to serve in Jonah and Micah's 2nd grade class at 11:15. I panicked. I began to bawl. It was an ugly cry, too--the kids were so unsure of what to do because they'd never seen me like that before. I knew that I was unable to do alone what I had said that I could. My classroom is about a football-field-distance from the elementary school. My classroom is in a building with no other classroom, so I am virtually alone. I never leave my students alone, but I felt this was an emergency, so I left one of the 4th graders in charge, I ran out to the car, got the soup and crock pot, ran down to the main office, and plugged it in. I was hysterical and hyperventilating by this time. I knew there was no way the soup would be warm in 15 minutes. One of the staff saw me, and started microwaving the soup until the crock pot was warmed up. My mother-in-law, the secretary at the school, also helped with keeping it turning and stirring it and making sure it was warm throughout. I ran back to the class, and tried to compose myself after making such a monumental error, but I couldn't get over it. I finished the class, and went to take my soup to Jonah and Micah's class and ate lunch with them, but I cried off and on throughout the rest of the day. I cried because I couldn't keep the locked-away emotions in any longer, I cried because I felt bad that I'd completely lost it in front of a class, I cried because I felt out of control with my emotions and my life. I know that being late with a crock pot of soup really doesn't sound like a big deal, and alone it isn't, but in a long line of stressful and emotional events, it's what put me over the edge and into Step 3 of the emotional phase.

The entire Christmas Break, I tried to lay low. I stayed at home a lot, and tried to regain my mental focus. It was 3 weeks of time spent with myself and my family, and I felt that I was doing better. A week after going back to school it was my good friend Amanda's birthday. Last year, we decided to do something big for everyone's birthdays. We had a 3-day Boise extravaganza for John's birthday in May, we went floating down river in August for my birthday, and we celebrated Josh's and Kevin's birthdays in November and December, too. For Amanda's birthday in January, she wanted to do a 3-day trip to Boise as well. I knew that I wasn't emotionally well enough to go, but I couldn't just back-out after we'd done everyone else's birthdays already. So I committed to going, but I didn't feel good. It was a very difficult weekend for me. I sat in the backseat the whole time, in a car that had a back door that didn't open from the inside, so I felt trapped. It was a long trip to Boise. The speakers for the stereo were right behind my head, and John and Amanda sang the whole 4 1/2 hours. I had a nasty headache by the time we arrived in Boise. We went to eat first, and the food made my stomache sick. After we arrived at the hotel, we were going to go dancing, but I told them I wanted to stay behind. My head hurt, my stomache hurt, and I was feeling depressed. But they refused to let me stay at the hotel alone, so I went. I just sat and watched them the whole time until they decided to head back to the hotel late that night. The next two days were filled with doing whatever Amanda wanted, because it was HER birthday after all! But I had zero control over anything I did or anywhere I went or anyone I was with. Whenever I pleaded to be left alone for a while, they refused. They either said they would have to stay behind with me at the hotel and not do what they wanted, or I would have go with them. I was quickly spiraling downward into an unsafe place emotionally and mentally. I needed some space, I needed to be alone for a bit to compose myself, but I was never given the opportunity, and I know that if i'd ever been given the chance to be alone on the trip, what happened next never would've happened.

A year after the twins were born, I was diagnosed as Bi-Polar from two different psychiatrists. I was put on a mirage of different medications until they could find a combination that worked for me. I visited with the psychiatrists monthly, my medications were altered monthly, and I visited with a counselor weekly. This went on for a year. My medications were finally stabilized, and Lithium seemed to be the drug for me. But then I got pregnant with Kanyon, and Lithium is not to be taken while pregnant or breastfeeding. A few months after becoming pregnant with Kanyon, I quit my full-time job at the credit union because I knew I couldn't afford daycare for 3! When I quit, I lost my insurance benefits as well, so I knew that I wouldn't be able to afford the medications or the visits to the psychiatrist anymore. So, I quit taking Lithium, I quit going to the Psychiatrist and counselor, and I quit my job. But being pregnant really stabilized my hormones and emotions, so I was doing very well. And after having Kanyon, I was still doing well. I realized that after years of being on an emotional roller coaster ride (and not a fun one, either), that if I just listened to what my mind and body needed, I could take care of myself without having to take medications or see a doctor. So, whenever I began to feel stressed, I would remove myself emotionally or physically from the people or things or activities that were causing the stress. This was an exercise to keep myself feeling in control of my emotions and my life. I have trained myself and have become very good at listening to my body and mind, and separating myself from things when feelings of being out-of-control arise inside of me  .

When I was in Boise, I could feel myself spiraling out of control. I had no say in anything, I was not feeling good emotionally or mentally or physically, and being taken out of my home and the comfort and safety of my husband and family was difficult when I was already in a weakened and frazzled state. On the morning of the 3rd day in Boise, and the day we were to come home, I told Amanda that I couldn't be her friend for a while, that I needed to separate myself emotionally from her until I was better. I wish that I wouldn't have said the truth of my feelings right then, I wish that I'd held it in until we got home, but I couldn't hold it in anymore--I needed to be heard. Nobody had listened to me that entire trip. On the ride home, it was the opposite of the ride down, it was silent and quiet and I finally felt like I could breathe and listen to what my mind and body were telling me. But for Amanda, that quiet car ride was hell--her mind was in complete turmoil. About 2 hours into the trip, she couldn't take it anymore. She stopped the car, walked around a bit and cried, got back in and began yelling at me in the backseat for the things I had said and for the hurt feelings she had. Amanda is one of the most charitable people I've ever met. She's good to the core, she never thinks of herself--only for others, she loves others with everything she has, and she has a heart of pure intentions. She was rightful in her anger towards me, because of what I'd said that morning. But I couldn't handle what she was saying, I knew that she was right, and that she deserved better, and I hated myself for what I'd done to ruin the entire weekend. I asked her to please drop me off in Stanley at Josh's aunt's house. I needed to be away from the situation, I needed to remove myself like I'd trained myself, I needed to be in a nurturing and non-intrusive environment.  I knew that I would make it home emotionally in control if I could be dropped off and have Josh pick me up. But she refused to drop me off. That's when I went crazy. Remember...I'm Bi-Polar, and I was in a dangerous situation of being out of control, and had been for weeks. Amanda and John never believed me when I told them of my diagnosis, because they didn't know me when I was on my emotional roller coaster ride or when I was on medication, they only knew me since I learned to control my exterior environments in order to control my inner emotions, so I always appeared to be okay to them. I was not okay on that car ride. We had to stop for John to use the bathroom, and I got out and started walking. It's a lonely highway stretch in the mountains. It was in the wintertime and icy and snowy, but I knew i couldn't sit in the car with them anymore, and since they wouldn't listen to me when I said I needed to be dropped off in Stanley, I had to do something. Ugh, this is painful for me to recount. Then blah blah blah happened and more things were said and done that I will forever regret, then Amanda called Josh to start driving and pick me up wherever we met on the road. And Josh did (I love that man so much), and since that fateful day in January, John said he's no longer my friend because he said I ruin everything and doing activities with me is no longer fun (and he's right), and I haven't been able to forgive myself for ruining Amanda's birthday even though it's been over 5 months since the whole ordeal. I lost my two best friends because of my actions, and life hasn't been the same since.

So, I'm mechanically living life in Step 3 of the emotional cycle. Which is why my blog posts are more narrative instead of sharing deep thoughts or expressive emotions. Because I have trained myself so well, I don't even really experience deep thoughts or expressive emotions in Step 3; I have shut myself off to any deep feeling except for that of my husband and family. Most of the time, I like depending on just my husband and job and kids as my entire life. Sometimes, very rarely though, I wish that I had friends to do things with, but then I remember that I just ruin things for other people and I'm unpredictable and can't be in a relationship without someone getting hurt, and I remind myself that this is much safer for me and everyone around me if I stay in Step 3. That doesn't mean I will remain in Step 3 forever...but for now, I'm just trying to maintain composure, and trying to not think about what I've done. But until I can forgive myself for hurting my friends, I will never move into Step 4.

I haven't opened up about what's really been happening with me in the last 6 months until now, and I'm hoping that since talking and writing is therapeutic for me, doing this blog post will help me to be more effective in getting back my deeper thoughts and expressive feelings again. I miss my old self! It's a baby step forward!