My synthetic medicine journey… to none.

Sometimes, it’s constantly reminding myself that “this too shall pass“.

It’s really all I can do…and enough to do it.

I am well aware that I am not on synthetic medication anymore. Sometimes that still scares me; even though the effects and side-effects of taking the medicines….scares me more.

I remember when I made the decision to stop taking them.

At that point my cholesterol level had shot through the roof because of the bipolar anti-depressant I was taking (Latuda); and they had to prescribe me another medication to lower it. I was also on a mood-stabilizer as well; (Trileptol) a common anti-seizure drug that my son actually was taking back in the day for his Epilepsy. It is also used as a mood stabilizer for bipolar.

I was having headaches that lasted for days. Parts of my body were going numb at random times, that lasted for days and weeks. I have a bum shoulder; broken twice in the same spot, that causes me chronic pain daily. The meds made it feel worse. My joints felt worse, to the point that it hurt to walk sometimes. I was having auditory hallucinations whenever I did not take my meds at the exact same time. I was STILL up and down, up and down anyways. I was miserable; unable to hold a job….and stuck in a life of NOTHING.

The meds were not fixing me. They were in fact, hurting me….making me worse. It was actually quite terrifying if I have to be honest about it. You wake up feeling worse than the day before…and it’s like, how is this helping me?

It’s not.

I started to think of all the meds my son was on when he was alive….and all the complications they caused for him; and the constant trying to find the ones that would work. The medications he was on that were supposed to help his movement disorder; that in fact in the end had the opposite effect, and actually made his movement disorder irreversible….because unbenounced to us, that med (Haldol) was making it worse every day…one of the side effects of it, WAS an irreversable movement disorder….also called dyskenisia.

We gave him Dr. prescribed meds for a movement disorder, that was made worse by the med that was supposed to make it better.

The guilt I still carry from that…is indescribably hard to deal with or relate.

It didn’t make sense to me anymore. Any of it. What was the point of being on medicines, that didn’t even work for me; and caused other serious health problems? This was not the first time for me with this. It had been a struggle for years with the different medications for me; and finding something that worked. I asked myself was I THAT messed up, that I could not find ways naturally to help myself instead?

The answer to me was NO…I was NOT that messed up. I needed to find new ways to control my bipolar, PTSD, anxiety, and pain. I needed to help myself.

At that point I made the choice to detox from the medication I was on; and to live free of synthetic pills and medication for good.

It is a choice that I do not regret in any way…although it is challenging in moments.

I would have had to depend on synthetics, and keep taking them…for the rest of my life. I was at risk for developing even worse symptoms and health problems down the line; and that’s just a logical conclusion I came to, based on the symptoms I already was having.

It wasn’t worth it to me.

It wasn’t a real life. For me, It was a life filled with pills, and hoping I could be fixed by them…but struggling despite. Nothing more. They did nothing to touch my PTSD or anxiety symptoms either. Made my body, joint pain, and anxiety… WORSE.

I was just done with it all; regarding synthetic anything in my body.

I started to research herbal remedies and read anything I could to help myself. I had many friends who helped me with that as well. To you guys, I say thank you.

I realized that just because I was bipolar, and had other issues going…it didn’t mean I had to commit myself, to a life-time of pills and stigma.

I could overcome it, if I tried hard enough.

I smoke cannabis to control many of my symptoms now. Soon, I will be switching over to the straight CBD oil…which is a derivative of cannabis…and has no mood altering effects.

I take vitamins and supplements, and try to get as much sleep as I can. I excersize. (At work, all day long)

I make a conscious effort to actively control my ups and downs. Mostly that just consists of not letting myself get to the levels of despair I used to feel.

I do that by staying sober, writing, seeking support from people who care about me; and actively trying to help people that struggle with the same kinds of things that I do.

Many people have things to say about cannabis; and it’s use for medical purposes. Many people have things to say about me, and my use of it.

That is not my issue. I know I am responsible with my usage. I do not need validation from anyone on it at all.

I AM NOT a doctor. And truth be told, some of the Doctors I’ve worked with…weren’t doctors either…even though they carried the title.

Three things I DO know for sure, based on personal experience…and the experiences of people close to me:

~Synthetic meds WILL eventually lead you to MORE synthetic meds, and more problems health-wise, when it is all said and done.

~Cannabis and CBD oil would have greatly increased my deceased son’s quality of life and pain. He would not have suffered as much as he did. I wish it would have been an option when he was alive; but sadly it was not.

~Supplements and cannabis have greatly improved my symptoms, health, and overall quality of life.

It works for me; and I really don’t care what anyone else has to say about it anymore, because I live a life every day that is full and responsible, and true.

Things I wasn’t able to do when I was taking meds to “fix me”.

Healing and managing mental symptoms and pain, is not about doing things the way people tell you to do them.

It’s about looking in yourself, and finding ways to nurture the parts in you that need to be nurtured…not suppressed.

I own my Bipolar. I own my PTSD. I own my chronic pain from injury. I own my anxiety. I own my choice of medicines I will put in my body.

It is my choice. It is also yours.

I still feel the ups and downs. But they are far less extreme now.

I do not regret my choice to stop putting unnatural things in my body.

Sometimes, it IS constantly reminding myself that “this too shall pass“.

But the difference is; I know that it will pass now, and that’s just part of how I’m made. I embrace the fact that I AM not normal by societies standards.

I also feel no shame for who I am as a person anymore; and I know that the best things in life, all revolve around embracing who I am.

I am ME. I am not a stigma that can be cured with a pill; and I don’t want to be.

I am 10 months, 5 days sober.

I am living for the first time in my life. My best is happening daily.

Love yourself.

J.Rounds ©2018 ~Peaces of ME

Beautiful day and some thoughts.

It’s probably one of the last nice days of the season; and I’m grateful for the hope I’ve been feeling lately.

It is Karter’s death anniversary; it’s been 9 years since he’s passed. He’d be 12 years old if he were alive today.  

I, in the past, would often go into a shell for weeks around this time every year. It’s a positive sign that I feel no depression this year…only acceptance.

I know my son is OK now, wherever he is. I know he is with me every day. The pain I used to feel, has been replaced with understanding and strength.

I think realizing what is truly important in my life today, is Karter’s way of helping me know, that it’s ok to let go of the trauma I held for so long over his death.

I know that he was a gift; and that I can find comfort in the things that he taught me, and the bond we shared.

That’s a significant thing, and true progress. 

I have the day off, and it’ll be spent doing things that are relaxing and needed. I can still hear the dogs barking though. Lol.

I have great concerns about what has been happening in the world lately, but I’m not going to focus on it for right now; because all it’ll do is make me anxious.

I’m going to take some pictures tonight, and hopefully T will come with.

We need some “US” time. I also want to release a balloon for my son.

Today I’m focusing on the positive side of life, and paying no attention to the negative rabble that always *seems to be around and trying to upset my good juju. No going back to that crap and nonsense ever again…only forward into happy. 

I’m also killing myself with kindness; because it helps me to be kinder to others as well.

Try it; it works.

I am 191 days sober; or 6 months, seven days….and so is T.

Every day is a new day to be the person you were meant to be.

Love yourself.

Rest in peace Karter Law Rounds. Momma loves you.❤❤❤

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces ME


PTSD… It’s in Me…

I like to be straight up, because I just can’t grow without being so. 

It is hard to do sometimes, because of the emotional pain.

This is one of those posts…apologies for errors upfront.

…………………………………

Understanding my triggers that set off my PTSD, has been a traumatic journey in itself. It is an added disorder I aquired formally, after the passing of my chronically ill son in 2008. I was not diagnosed formally until 2014; after checking myself into a mental- health crisis facility, because I wanted to kill myself, and my meds were not working.

I was not aware I had PTSD at all…even though I had almost every one of the symptoms. I just thought I was going crazy, and that people that went to war were the only ones that had it, or could get it. 

I was wrong.

Although my son’s death in 2008 and the injustices surrounding it, are technically the propellers that pushed me into the PTSD symptoms presenting themselves in the extreme way they did; the spiral down took years, and my actual formal diagnosis didn’t come until 2014. I suspect I’ve had it way longer than that though; as far back as my later elementary years. That suspicion comes based on what I remember and went through as a child; regarding my family life back then; what I know about PTSD and how it forms; and how many other times I’ve spiraled down and had mental issues and lapses arise in my life before my son’s death; that I could not control or cope with, and had to be hospitalized for. Issues from my past. I’m Doctor-approved mental now, if that makes you feel better.

Seems like everyone in my family wants to put on blinders and forget that my childhood was dysfunctional as fuck too; but I remember. It’s not worth talking about , because I’m just trying to lay out the fact that the symptoms were already there before Karter left. 

Anyways….

I remember when my son first passed, and I felt like I was literally going to die. 

I often equate it to someone walking directly up to me, and putting a shotgun to my heart, and pulling the trigger. 

Only it is not over afterwards….because you live through it over and over again. 

You die again the next day, the same exact way… and so on and so forth, but with memories of trauma, and not a gun…Every day. You can’t much wake up, or make the thoughts stop when you want to.

It’s a bad problem.

It’s exactly like the movie Groundhog Day with Bill Murray, but way more messed up and traumatic; and way more anxiety. It hits usually without warning, out of the blue because of something that triggers a memory that triggers a cycle.

That’s what it is for me. 

How do you begin to mend the pieces of yourself together, when you feel like there’s nothing remaining to stitch?

How do you go from doing absolutely everything 24/7 for your multiply disabled child one day, and every day for three-and-a-half years….to nothing, and gone forever, in 12 hours, with needless suffering and Dr. Neglect? 

It’s going to cause some issues for some.

I don’t talk about it…because it makes other people uncomfortable.

No one knows, except the people who unfortunately have been there, and are there…and live through it every day. Some seem to manage trauma well…

This broke me.

I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. The loss of A child… OR the disorder

It’s a curse… An elite club that’s becoming more popular, that you don’t want to be in.

My son was pronounced dead right in front of me in the hospital, after the nurse came in and basically screamed out “I think he’s dead!”.  I woke up to that, (as I was dozing because we were waiting, and I was 72- hour tired)..and to my horror, he WAS dead. 

It was surreal. 

I still to this day see his face the last time I saw him alive. He looked scared and I knew he would end up going. I was scared too, because I knew I was going to lose one of the only things that I had ever loved, and I couldn’t do anything at all, but wait.  His meds weren’t even working… It haunts me.

How do you stop something that is happening as you sleep? How do you speed up paperwork and other hospital political bullshit when it is in the works, but not fast enough; so they will help your son, and he  won’t leave your life forever?

It haunts me. 

It was the most helpless feeling ever that I have had, in my entire life…
I think of my son, and what I know now.

My son’s internal organs were backing up, and he was micro-asperating on liquid fecal matter, because his bowel ruptured from a year-old surgery, and no one would listen or do anything when I told them directly that he was dying. They let him lay there for 12 hours, suffering. They gave him Tylenol and said it wasn’t a surgical matter. 

They didn’t even do the proper tests.

I could not have stopped it, or sped up anything. I did everything I could think of to get someone to help and listen. It was as if everything was in a fog, and everything and everyone had it’s place in time….pre-determined.

No one even came to help us despite my pleads until he was already dead, and the nurse found him. As soon as I fell asleep after being up for three days straight, he passes; then everyone comes. They worked on him for 22 minutes, and he was already dead for 20 minutes already,  and I still see his little legs and feet flipping around on the table from the people doing CPR on him, to this day. I still remember my brain on loop, This is not happening…. I’m on the phone with my ex, and I can’t think, and I’m going to pass out, and I’m in the park dancing and singing with Karter again for a moment, and then life stops.

He’s gone, and they call it… And my life stops too…

And I still live it in my head. 

No one knows.

It comes to me in dreams and daily similarities, that I can’t get away from in life. Mentally it’s draining and it affects personal relationships and life for me in various ways…it used to be chunks of time in my life even that I could do nothing but self-medicate, gone…before I learned how to get a handle on it.

Some other facts.

I haven’t had one direct conversation about any of those final moments with karter, with a family member, ever. Including my ex-husband. People wonder why I self-medicated and couldn’t cope.

No one understood. My family was good for about a month on and off, before they stopped calling.

I never once got any support for the issue, other than prescribed pills and people paid to listen to me, but not actually hearing anything I said. In the end I started saying crazy things, because I didn’t care anymore and I wanted to die. I held SO much anger and resentment towards certain people for Karter’s passing, and God, and my lack of relief from it all; and I wasn’t going anywhere good with that. I. Felt resentment towards people, because they couldn’t understand my anger with the situation, and acted like I should just get over it after two weeks, a month, a year… Life goes on. 

But it didn’t for ME.

They let my son just lay there and suffer and die, and I had to watch it.

Fix that for me please.

Night terrors…the night terrors too :/

I stopped eating for four months afterwards. I was on pills and drinking and hiding it at the end, because I.Could.Not.Cope.

My ex- husband even tried to lock me away in a home for six months, instead of actually helping me…

Yes, I had anger.

 I left life as I knew it after that, because I needed to survive and I knew I was going down; my marriage was over and I did not want to mess up my other kids more than the BS they’d already  been through because of it all.

I still messed them up anyways; I messed everything up. 

It’s been the absolutely worse thing in my life that I’ve ever had to go through and deal with….ever.

I can’t even put into words how it’s changed me mentally.

You can tell.

I don’t know why I can’t get over it. 

A long, hard, painful, lonely road of recovery is what I’ve actually been doing since 2008; On And off.  When I think about all the personal sacrifices I’ve made to get well again, I have to give myself the credit I deserve even if no one else will, because despite everything, I was able to get better to the level of being stable again, without synthetic anything…and controlling my symptoms and anxiety from it, with a plant that grows out of the ground and is natural.

Judge me all you want.

Every day I continue to get just a little bit more ok with the fact that those bad memories are just memories now…that that was a life I knew long ago, and will never be again. I don’t have to live in it anymore.

I will most likely never have actual relations with my remaining children or family members, to the level of it actually being genuine or mattering.  It’s quite a bitter pill to swallow, because I did not and could not control the things I couldn’t have, and I did not control the things I should have,  to recoup. that privledge. 

I was sick, and I needed help. Everyone gave up on me, and I gave up on me too. I tortured myself mentally in ways that you will never know or feel. 

 I am still sick, but I manage it responsibly now, because it’s all I can do. I’m WAY better than I’ve ever been. 

I have spent many, many years coming to terms with the fact that I lost my son because he had issues that I could not fix. 

I felt guilt because I think I would have done things a lot differently, had I known what was actually going on in full- spectrum. I was completely naive to medication interactions, related side-effects, and the fact that sometimes doctors aren’t always right. His death was slow,  but sudden and traumatic…all major factors. I felt guilt because I listened to doctors tell me what to do; and I did it; and in the end it completely backfired and my son died anyways, because they didn’t do anything that THEY were supposed to do. I felt guilt because I couldn’t control anything that was going on around me, and after he passed…I lost my mind and couldn’t recover the losses. I’ve hurt my remaining children forever because of it, and it will never be the same.  

You never see it until afterwards; but you feel it where it counts, every day after you realize.

To let go of the fact that I could not get the time back and I had to let my 3 1/2 year old son go for good, was unbearable. But I knew I had to do it somehow, because re-living the bad times wasn’t making anything good for me, and it was killing me slowly, right along in sync with my vices.

It is what it is, and the memories remain. 

I sought the support of anything positive and literally clawed my way through this PTSD shit completely alone through reading about it, synthetic medication, keeping myself alive, journaling, and crying a whole lot.

I’m at the level now, where I do not allow myself to dwell too long in his passing, and I keep myself away from the triggers I know will rev up my symptoms; such as alcohol, any form of synthetic, and shitty people who do shitty things, and don’t understand. 

I don’t know it’s just something I live with, and I know that It’s always gonna’ be there, and it’s real.

I’m not too sure about this blog exactly, except that I feel better for getting it out there.

Maybe people can understand that it’s changed me, and who I am.

I don’t know how to talk about it, because I wish I didn’t have it, but I can’t stop myself from remembering.

It’s just one of those blogs.

I know that even though I struggle with this now, I was still chosen to be Karter’s mother and that never changes. I can live in the good memories now, if I just do. Some days are better than others for sure. I miss him… I remember him and his light. I know he’s better, and with me always.

I guess we all carry things that leave scars…and this is just the biggest one of mine. I’m glad to be officially diagnosed too, because it gave me a place to start understanding that I could get better and manage it.

Thanks for reading. 

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME

To Karter, May 3rd, 2017.

You’d be 12 today…that’s just crazy. 

I know you are gone, but it doesn’t stop it from hurting, or from wanting you back with me.

I know it would be selfish of me to accept that; if it were offered; but if I had a chance to do it all over again I would have done things so much differently, and maybe someone would have listened to me sooner. It still haunts me…but I know we can’t go back now.

It took me a long time to realize the full scope of your journey. At the time I was just doing anything I could to hold on to you a little longer. I didn’t want you to go. I was so afraid to lose you.

I still struggle to understand why there has to be such a thing, as suffering and pain, in souls that are so pure….but I cannot make sense of it. In light of this fact, I try to find some sort of acceptance in it instead…however small.

If I don’t, I will surely give up on everyone and everything, and I believe that that would not be what you would want from me. 

You changed me, and made me a stronger and a better person. You kept me alive with the memories of you, when I was at my lowest, and wanted to give up. It’s because of you that I fight to be a better person. 

I think of you often, and I like to think I’ll see you again. 

I know you’re better now, and I only ever wanted that for you. Sometimes it is just bittersweet, I guess. 

I love you… And thank you for showing me what real love and strength really means.

I never knew it before you.

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME

Wind.

The days drift by like a dream, and like a dream, I dream of you.

I wonder if you dream of me too.

I see and hear things that remind me of you. I know those are just memories I haven’t shaken yet, but still some…most make me smile.

Scattered.

All those memories are scattered in the wind now, and somewhere I’m not; a part of my life I will never be again.

Still I think of you at times.

I can still smell the carnations in your hair.

I feel you in the wind and in my heart.

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME

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There are a lot of things I wish I could tell you, and I’ll never get the chance.

The seasons are changing, and I remember how we used to be.

Seems beyond strange that I’ll never see you again.

Life changes day by day, and I know you are still with me.

You gave me something that no one else could give.

We understood each other without words.

I know you know I loved you.

I know you loved me too.

I miss you.

J.Rounds (c)2013 ~Peaces of Me

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I remember the smell of your hair those last days.

And the cream on your face and the way the man at the funeral home apologized, but said that it was needed to keep your skin soft, and we would have to see past that.

I never thought I’d have to say goodbye to you so soon. It seems so unbelievably unfair after all you’ve fought through.

What kind of God is there, and where is he at now? Nowhere around me, do I feel him at all. How am I supposed to bare this?

As if the fact that your hair still smells like carnations could ever make up for it at all.

J.Rounds (c)2008 ~Peaces of Me

Moments

The sky opens up and I can touch the clouds.

It’s the perfect day.
You. Me.

You can smell the air and nothing else matters but that moment together. I remember what really matters.

It’s a peace I’ve felt before.

This time there is just me,
and It’s O.K.

Life is a collection of moments, that you remember in the end. That’s it.

I will always remember you and our moments together.

J. Rounds (c)2016 ~Peaces of Me

Letter 203

I never really knew what my life would hold.

Never had anything to believe in until you came…and left.

My rose-colored glasses came off after that and I started to wake up from the naive slumber I had been in for so long.

Maybe that was your gift to me.

The world was crashing down, and puddled around my feet.
I kept myself immersed in the memories, unable to come up for air because I needed to make sense of the fact that I could not make sense of it.

One day I stopped trying to.
That’s when things started to get better.

I don’t know why things happen the way they do; but I do know that wherever you are now, you are better.

I still look for you.
I know I will never find you per say; but I see you in the faces of children like you. It is a small comfort.

I’d like to think you’d be proud of me, and how far I’ve come since then.

I hope so.

I will always remember your smile.

You were perfect in my eyes, and always will be.

J.Rounds (c)2015 ~Peaces of Me

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About my PTSD

Deep rooted trauma has screwed me up.
It replays like a record and  sometimes takes up much of my day, even week; consuming all thoughts and sucking up any motivation I may have had to get anything done.

For me, from what I’ve been able to understand through the healing process, it is something that really will never go away; but I can manage it to the point where it no longer becomes a primary focus in my life.

I am no Dr. Firstly.

But I have been coping for some time now with multiple hard traumas; to the point that I had to make some hard decisions and try to start actively trying to get better, or I was going to lose anything Jenny I ever knew and that ever was me.

One of the biggest things I did, was to acknowledge that I could not change my past. It sounds so cliche` and obvious to most when you say that I know. The past is the past… it’s of course, obvious.

For someone like me who struggles with PTSD, it’s something I have to consciously tell myself; daily.

Sometimes we want so badly to change past events; that we punish ourselves in the process because we think replaying it will produce a different outcome; or perhaps a different way of making sense of what happened.  There’s always that one thing we could have done differently to change what the outcome ultimately was; even though it was already pretermined and it was going to go down the same way, no matter what. Some things you just cannot change, no matter what. I do know that now.

Regarding my son; he is gone and I can’t change that fact. I did everything I possibly could have done to save him. I did everything I possibly could have done.

I don’t know where Karter is; but I do know he’s not suffering anymore; and there’s nothing I could have done differenty to save him. I tried with everything that was me.

I still replay his last day and death in my head, every day; but I know now there’s nothing I could have done. The things I tell myself about it that make me think otherwise…aren’t true.

That realization in itself I think is one of the biggest break throughs I have made, in the past eight years.

For a while there, I was literally driving myself crazy playing that record.

That record finally got a huge scratch in it;  so I put it in it’s sleeve and put it in a special place where I can see it when I need to.

I still look at it too often; I can’t help it; but I’m trying to play other records now.

There’s other music to play.

J.Rounds (c) 2016 ~Peaces of Me

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