It has been  weeks and weeks since my last blog entry.  My entries have been slowing down as my life triumphantly improves.  I'm still not sure how I feel about this.  I'd like to have the motivation to write more often, but I'm unsure what to write about, now that I am not writing about my inner pain.  I could start to write more about happiness, I suppose, but it's all so new to me.  I'm still not quite sure what to say.
    I am enjoying my happy life, but I'm afraid that it will disappear.  Let's face it, Schizoaffective Disorder is chronic and my chances of relapsing are very high. But I'm trying to stay positive.              
   Of course, there were times in the past when I felt happy, but these times were short-lived in comparison to now.  My present condition of happiness has been coasting along for quite a few months now.  No, these precious months have not been perfect, there were traumas and trials during them. But I survived them, without wanting to give up on life and bounced back.
    I have prayed and prayed to our sweet Lord, for a happy existence like this.  But I never dreamed that it would ever really happen.  It was, however, like climbing a huge mountain.  I had to work hard for decades through medication changes, psychotherapy, support groups, hospitalizations, and evicting unhealthy relationships with friends and family members from my life.           
     I was also extremely blessed to have some family and friends pray for me during my last serious bout of Depression.  I really believe that their prayers had an effect on me.
     There are presently, no adequate words to describe my thankfulness for this feeling within me. I must learn to fully embrace it and not fear my future.
     I will try to give more frequent updates in the future for those who read my blog.  If there is a topic that you would like me to discuss, please feel free to leave comments.  In the meantime, I will continue joyously coasting along in happiness.

     I am so, so very thankful that I didn't get caught too deeply in middle of Hurricane Sandy. God Bless the people and animals  that are suffering or have died
     I live near Boston, Massachusetts, but I was in Williamsburg, Virginia at the time.  It was raw, cold, rainy, and windy. I was confined to our hotel room during the days, because everything was closed.  But our room was spacious, comfortable, warm, and had working electricity, which meant, cable TV.  I was a bit stir crazy and anxious because I was in a strange place, in a hurricane, but I coped well, and tried to relax as much as I could.  Frank, my husband, was attending a conference, so I was alone all day.  That was hard for me.  Part of me is afraid of being alone for lengthy amounts of time.  But I didn't panic.
    What I really wanted to do was venture into Colonial Williamsburg, on a sight-seeing exploration, but it was mostly closed.  It would have been a BIG step for me, to go far away, from home and explore some new place on my own.  I'd love to achieve that type of confidence. I've traveled in  buses, subways, trains, but never by myself in a strange city, yet I do it all the time in Boston.  And I've been flying on airplanes by myself since I was six years old.  But crowds, chaos, and big places overwhelm me.  I think it got worse when my Schizoaffective Disorder peaked.  Because of this, I almost never go to Walmart, either, lol.
     I'm very happy to be home now, safe and cozy in our apartment, with Julie Catkins, my deaf feline child, and my wonderful husband.  There really is, no place like home.    

Dear Readers of "My Uncomfortable Mind",
     I just want to say, Thank You, for taking time, out of your busy life, to read about my personal journey.  It means the world so me.  I can't believe how many readers there are, from many different countries.  The comments and support, that I have received have been wonderful.  Please feel free to share "My Uncomfortable Mind", because I want people to realize that living with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and Schizoaffective Disorder does not have to mean that its the end of the world.  A happier life can be achieved, especially if you have support.

                                                     Thank You Eternally,
                                                         Christine X.

     It has been over 3 weeks, since my last blog entry.....the time just rushes by.  So I wanted to give an update.
     At this point in my life, I am doing very well.  I feel happy, not depressed, which was rare for me.  It is such a great gift to feel happy and content, one of the best feelings in the world.
      I don't feel paranoid, like I had last winter, when I was fearful that I would be murdered in my home, by a stranger.  I can't begin to tell you how wonderful peace of mind is.
      I stopped hearing strange music and sounds that weren't really there.   I used to feel really scared when this used to happen and I would question my sanity.
      I don't feel suicidal anymore, now I really want to live and be happy. This is a true blessing.
      I still feel anxious sometimes, especially when I wake up in the morning, but it is not as severe as it used to be.  I still get overwhelmed in large stores, and crowds of people, but I can face both now.
     I think these changes came about for several reasons.  My medication was changed, and I'm still going through some medication changes, at this time.
      During my last hospitalization, I knew of at least 7 people who prayed for me, and I came out of the hospital in a pretty good state of mind.  I also had an epiphany, I think, after I came out of the hospital.  Basically my whole attitude suddenly changed, I decided that I would do everything in my power to be happy and to live a productive successful life.
      I started this blog, for people to see that living with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and Schizoaffective Disorder doesn't have to mean the end of the world.  It's challenging as Hell, but it can be done, and its so rewarding.
     I'm not going to sugar-coat it, it is highly possible that I will relapse, but I have the strength now to climb out of that awful hole, and I think that as I learn to handle my illness and the problems in life, my relapses will be less frequent, and less severe.  Life just seems to get better and better everyday!  There really is hope!

      It has been over 3 weeks since Nana's funeral.  It was a rocky road for a little while, but I am happy to say that I am doing remarkably well.
      My therapist, told me that Nana's death, and seeing my abusive father again, were major stressors in my life, that could have sent me spiraling into a deep depression.  And depression often leads me to psychosis.
      I am so thankful that I was able to pull myself out of it.  I am so thankful that I had the strength.  But I didn't do it alone.  I have a great psychiatrist, a wonderful therapist, and some amazing family and friends, who allowed me to lean on them, who cared enough to listen to my words, who gave me heartfelt, encouraging support, and who prayed for me and prayed with me.
      I believe that emerging from mental illness takes a lot of work, on my part, as well.  Over the years, I have learned to reach out, to those I trust, and ask for help.  I use therapy and support groups to work through my issues.  I have used art to express myself.  I have a strong faith in God.  And since I started writing this blog, "My Uncomfortable Mind", my life has changed for the better.  I feel liberated....

     Well, although I survived Nana's funeral and seeing my abusive father, I did not anticipate the repercussions.  I didn't realize, that I would open the closet door, that held the skeletons.  I didn't realize the pain, that was about to come.  As my therapist said, "It was a Double-Whammy".  I was hit with grief over my Nana passing, and hit with anger, over seeing my father.
      I fell, into a deep hole of depression, that lasted about a week.  A week, is a short-term sentence, when it comes to depression, but what shook my soul the most, was the anger that I felt.  I wanted to kill my father, to hurt him forever, thinking over and over, of ways that I would do it.  And I hated myself for it.  I was feeling horribly guilty for entertaining these thoughts.  I felt like a killer and couldn't live with myself.
      Finally, in therapy, I learned that these types of thoughts were not unusual for survivor's of abuse.  I learned that my feelings were not "BAD", but simply feelings, that I had a right, to have.   I did not act on these feelings, that is what mattered.  I am not a violent person, ordinarily, in fact, I am quite gentle.  I am, however, a survivor of child abuse, domestic abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and Schizoaffective Disorder, and as a result, I pay a steep price, in times of stress.  And it sucks.
      I can't tell you, how many times, I have wanted to give up on life, because I just couldn't take the struggle anymore.  But somehow, I pull through and survive, growing stronger and braver after each trauma or bad experience.  "What doesn't kill you, will make you stronger".   And, I'm beginning to believe, that maybe, just maybe life gets better over time, if you work, to make it so.   And maybe, I should really give life a chance.

     I attended my Nana's wake and funeral this past week.  I am left with a variety of emotions.    
     I am heartbroken at the loss of my grandmother, we had a lot of interesting years together, she was an essential part of my life.  But it was a complicated relationship.
    I am relieved that Nana is in Heaven, now, and no longer suffering from Alzheimer's and congestive heart failure.  I no longer worry about her.  Even though she was well-taken care of, I still worried, knowing, that my Nana's end of life, was approaching quickly.  Two days before Nana died, I had a feeling that she was going to die, within a few days.  I didn't trust my inner voice, I shrugged it off, thinking: "How could I possibly know such a thing?".  Was that God telling me that Nana was going to join Him?
     At the wake I was held strong and did not cry.  My wonderful friend, Michele, attended the wake with my husband, and I.  With them, I was able to hold my head high, when my father and step-mother approached me with a "Hi, Chris", and an "I'm sorry about your Nana".  I said "Hi", and "Thank you", and nothing else.  After all, if I said what was on my mind, it would have destroyed the sacredness of my grandmother's wake.
    I haven't had a relationship with my father and step-mother in 26 years, after I outed my father for abusing me, when I was a little girl.  I did it to protect my half-siblings from our father.  I haven't seen them in 27 years because he turned them against me. It nearly killed me from heartbreak.  It seems that only my aunt, who was also abused by my father, believes it.  Nana knew that I was telling the truth but wanted  "our little family" back together, wanted me to forgive and forget.  If only I could.
    At the funeral though, my feelings came out as I cried for Nana.  I said nothing to my father and nobody asked why we weren't associating with each other.  In truth, I had a fleeting moment where I wanted to take the chair in front of me, and smash it over my father's head.  But I didn't, I took the high road and took comfort, in the fact, that he now looked like a little old man, and would probably be dead soon.  I just hope that he doesn't molest any more children.
    I also feel free now.  I have closed a chapter in this tale.  I never have to see my father again.