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So, here I am, Saturday, June 13, 2015.  My emotional life has been a living and utter hell.  I wish no one had to go through the shit that I went through.  I did 15 days of Partial Hospitalization, and I felt like shit most of the time.  There were some breakthroughs for me, but most of the time, I was quiet.  And not because I wanted to be, but because I had to be.  There were 14 people in our group.  Everyone needed their time to talk and process and tell their story.  The stories of survival I heard, through such abuse…it amazes me.  Anyway…I bottomed out badly in there, and the worst part?  I was dismissed-alot by the therapist and the nurse.  Twice I talked about suicidal thoughts and it wasn’t even a blip on either of their radars.  So I moved seats from the head of the class to the back were all the cool kids sit.  And I was basically silent the rest of the time.  And you know what?  No one seemed to care other than the two women that I sat by.  How frustrating and sad and defeating.  Not only was I dismissed and rejected-two of my MAIN TRIGGERS ON MY FUCKING SAFETY PLAN-I was pushed aside THREE FUCKING TIMES BY THE PSYCHIATRIST.  Hello assholes.  I’m not here to sit around and NOT get better and NOT get help and do this as part of some court ordered bullshit.  I came in, on my own, with my family’s knowledge and help, and I was pushed the fuck aside.  How shitty is that?  Shit like that makes me NOT want to go back and get the fucking help I KNOW I need!  That shit fucking infuriates me.  So my last day there, I’m emotional because I’m FINALLY given the time I needed DAYS ago to talk, and the other psychiatrist wants to see me.  And he listened to me and he wrote down what little bit of my history he could take before being interrupted.  He said I was on too much Trileptal-1200 mg was TOO MUCH.  I told him about the Latuda and that’s what started these four horrible months.  He asked about my reason for being on birth control and I told him about the surgery I had last year, and he seemed genuinely concerned.  He listened when asked why I wasn’t on an antidepressant and what I wanted.  I told him about all the meds I’ve been on.  And he said, “I want you to come see me.  I want to monitor you closely.  I don’t see so much of the depression as I do the anxiety.”  And I told him I didn’t have the anxiety until I was on the Latuda.  That concerned him as well.  I’ve never been an anxious person.  I’ve never self isolated and never NOT wanted to be around family and people and enjoying life.  The Latuda..it changed me, beat me down, scared me.  All with good reason.  So, I’m down to 600 mg of Trileptal a day, 50 mg Zoloft-I liked Zoloft when I first took it, .5 mg Klonopin 2x a day, my low dose birth control, my prenatal vitamin-it’s my multivitamin.  That’s it for my meds.  Fairly low considering some people take ladles full a day.  But we are all different.  Psychiatry isn’t fact or exact, it’s art and science.  I’m sensitive to meds.  I have a higher pain tolerance threshold and I have a higher tolerance to pain meds.  If I say I’m in pain, I don’t say it lightly.  If I say I don’t feel right, I don’t say it just NOT to take my meds.  I listen to my body and what it tells me.  Lately it’s told me to eat carbs and protein because my brain has been so fucked up in its entirety that it needs to rebuild.  And chocolate never hurts.  Ever.

So, with the Trileptal GREATLY reduced, I have begun to feel again.  I’m not numb-I got a brief moment of that, but I can feel my emotions.  I am sad and I am angry and I am frustrated and I am lonely.  The void I have is still there where Florida resides, and I don’t think that will ever go away, but it’s no longer as big as it was.  It’s smaller now, more manageable.  It’s no longer a cold spot between my belly and my heart, just a cool area where I know that special place of him resides and lives in my heart and soul.  I miss him, so very much.  I miss the encouragement he gave me to be better, to get better and stronger and to grow.  I miss the laughter I had when we talked.  I do miss laughing, but even now it feels forced, fake at times.  That socially acceptable thing to do when something funny is said, not the genuine laughter that comes from a place when someone who really knows you can get it.  I miss feeling loved by someone that knows my deepest fears, and still held me tightly and let me know that things would eventually change, but it would take time and effort.  Most of all, I miss that he was the one-the only one able to hold me when I shattered and not get cut, and watch me grow and rise from the shattered glass pieces of my former life into this new life he helped me see I was ready for.

You know, I read a little blurb on Instagram under a pic of a drunk elf-don’t ask about that-And it made perfect sense to me:
Lesson 1: You can talk philosophy with a dummy, but you can’t expect the dummy to add anything to the conversation.
Lesson 2: Grief is a very normal emotion.  Don’t be ashamed of your grief.  Decorate it with pearls and tears and music of your sobs.  It is okay.  And it is very important to me that you know that.
Lesson 3: There will be only to times in your life when you will feel like you are breathing underwater.  One, when you are breathing underwater (duh!) and two, when you are deeply in love.
Lesson 4: Every person you meet is either a blessing or a lesson.  But remember, there are some exceptions to this rule.  They are called women.  Because they are everything.  They just don’t know it.  And probably you don’t ever know it yourself.  Worship them. -Akif Kichloo
This poet I follow on Instagram has had the most profound impact on my life in the last 48 hours with these 4 lessons.  Because I know what it’s like to talk to a dummy.  I know what it’s like to experience my own grief and to decorate it.  But the other two…I was and I still am deeply in love with Florida.  I felt as if I were unable to breathe and catch my breath.  I never felt like I was drowning, but that I could never get enough air in my lungs.  I always felt as if I were moving underwater, that it were all so surreal.  I have accepted that I will love no other man like I love him, and I am truly at peace with that.  Now, the last lesson…just blew me away.  Because I have always felt there is a reason for every person to come in and out of my life.  But I never thought of myself as an exception to that rule.  I’ve never felt like I were or am everything.  I’ve always just been me, just Shannon Rae.

So I shall end on this.  Out of all of the people that have come in my life and left-by choice, by force or by death, they’ve each provided me with little puzzle pieces for my life.  And there’s only ever been one willing enough to sit down with me and sort them out and help me do the edges of that puzzle.  Now, I am working on the inside pieces of my picture.  And I know, without a fucking doubt, it’s gonna be fucking BEAUTIFUL.

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