bubblegum-glitch

[bubblegum-glitch]

I Was Gaslighted to Believe My Mental Health Disorders Were Fake

TW: Suicide, alcoholism, mental health, childhood trauma

This post is a bit off topic with the theme of my blog, but it's something I really want to address.

I was about 10 years old when I first started noticing something was wrong with me. This was revealed to me quite recently when I was looking through my mom's collection of my old saved homework assignments. I had written a "biography" and in it I detailed how I was unlovable, and outlined clear indications of depression within it.

No one ever thought to address this with me. No one asked why I felt this way. No one drew any attention to the fact that something was clearly going on inside my head.

Before I continue I would like to preface this blog entry with a reminder that I did not have a bad childhood. Yes there was some emotional trauma that I recognize now that I'm older, but my parents did the best they could with what they knew and are not the villains of this story.

The suffering I did mentally in my teenage years was boiled down to teen angst and hormones, and once again ignored, even when I began self harming. This would, however, result in my first hospital trip regarding my mental health, but only because I had called the police on my drunk father and had to threaten to hurt myself in order to get them to send someone out to help me.

I don't remember what happened at that hospital visit. I've suppressed most of that memory too deep and would prefer not to dig it up for a blog post. I do remember people being disappointed in me and embarrassed that I would dare call the police on a family member. The focus ended up being on the resulting depression my dad was suffering instead of the scars I was now left with.

You see, I wasn't allowed to have emotions that weren't happy. Most importantly, I was absolutely not allowed to be angry about anything. If I felt rage, if I felt sadness, I was expected to put on a happy face and bury all that deep down in the depths of my soul until it all melted away.

It doesn't melt away though. It builds, and builds, and builds, and builds, and builds, until you just can't contain it any longer.

I struggled with suicidal thoughts and tendencies, self harm, depression, and anxiety quietly for many years. Eventually I told my mom about the intense urges that would coax me to hurt myself and the conversation was once again dismissed and forgotten by the following day. I was lead to believe that these thoughts weren't real, that I should push them all down and bury them, and I would feel better by exercising and going out with people more often while pretending nothing was wrong. Spoiler alert, this was not the correct solution.

I had my first total breakdown a few years later around 2014/2015. I was on my way to my new job when I was hit with this wave of absolute despair and hopelessness. It got so bad that I had to crawl into a public washroom at the bus terminal and call my mom to come get me because I couldn't even walk anymore on my own. Despite her insistence that going to the hospital wasn't going to help because all they would do is prescribe me medication (a BIG no-no in my house), she did eventually cave and took me to get some help.

That emergency visit was absolutely useless, however. I was told to read a book on being happy, told to exercise more, and sent home.

So once again it was confirmed to me that there was nothing wrong and I was just being a lazy drama queen.

This would lead to the first time I seriously considered suicide and it was just dumb luck that an interruption stopped me from going ahead with it.

Unfortunately the mess my head was in only began to decline from here. I never wanted to leave the house, I was constantly paranoid that my friends hated me, believed myself to be worthless and a waste of breath, and figured no one would listen to me cries for help because I just wasn't worth saving. My poor mental health was my fault and I was only making it worse by wallowing in a pit of despair that I had dug for myself. If I would just exercise and be more positive I would be all better.

My second suicide attempt occurred after I had moved out of my parents place to live with my partner. That despair had worsened to a point where I couldn't stand it anymore and I walked out into traffic to try and make it stop. Fortunately I was not hit and, upon realizing what I had done, I called a friend to take me to emergency.

This time the doctors listened and got me help. I spent a year in therapy, got a loose diagnosis of PMDD (Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder) from my doctor, and with the encouragement of my partner finally gave in and went on medication to treat my anxiety and depression. I had been resistant of this previously because my mom had led me to believe that long-term medication was poison and only hurt more than it helped.

I'm sorry mom, but fuck you for making me believe that.

After a couple of weeks adjusting to the meds and feeling like nothing was real, the suicidal thoughts went away, the urge to self harm diminished, the weight on my chest lightened, I could think clearly for the first time in my life, I could see the beauty in living...

After 20 years I finally understood what it meant to feel normal.

But the story doesn't end here.

Over the last few months I've noticed my medication has been significantly less effective. It happens, and originally I was just going to ask my doctor to strengthen my prescription, but then my mom said something that sent an intense rage through my soul.

"I've always known you had ADHD but I didn't take you to see a doctor because all they would do is medicate you."

Excuse me?

This epiphany sent me down a rabbit hole of exploring the disorder and when it became obvious to me that she was probably right I began the steps to getting myself a diagnosis, partially for confirmation, but mostly out of spite.

Last weekend the NP diagnosing me stated that while she believes I do probably have ADHD, it's also very clear to her that I have Borderline Personality Disorder, with signs of possible Bipolar. I've now got an appointment with my doctor to get a referral to a psychiatrist to have this officially diagnosed, but dear lord does it all make so much sense now.

Years of blaming myself for never being good enough, for feeling awful that I never made anything of myself, for failing again, and again, and again and being told it was because I was too lazy...

I'm mad. I'm really. Fucking. Mad.

My family and the health system failed me. They made me believe I was making it all up, that I was a drama queen. They invalidated my feelings over and over and over...

But 10 year old me was right. Something was wrong. Something has been wrong for a very long time and I'm finally now, at 35 years old, getting the help I have been begging for my entire life.

When I discussed this discovery with my friends the first thing they asked was if I was okay, because hearing all that was a lot to take in. My mom, on the other hand, scoffed and told me the NP is lying and isn't an expert. She just wants to sell me a medication that will poison my system. Mom completed her "diagnosis" by telling me my real problem is that I don't exercise and I spend too much time on the computer. If I'd give up the screen time and go for a walk I will be all better.

I'm really. Fucking. Mad.

[bubblegum-glitch]

Photo Set: 1999 Shot on iPhone 12

Spicy posts @ https://linktr.ee/bubblegumglitch

[bubblegum-glitch]

I just spent an obscene amount of money on a new camera.... send money 😅

https://linktr.ee/bubblegumglitch

[bubblegum-glitch]

Current Mood

[bubblegum-glitch]

Model. Photographer. Editor. Social Media Manager. Marketing Department. Entrepreneur. Jester… This Girl Does it All!

Yesterday an incel on bluesky reskeeted my post and used it to tell “feminoids” like me to “get a real job”.

Years on the internet have given me a skin thicker than Emma Frost’s diamond form, so comments like these roll off me like water off a duck’s back. I reported and blocked him, and moved on with my life without even acknowledging his existence.

But then I got to thinking…

Sex work isn’t just a “real job”, it’s multiple real jobs all crammed under one “controversial” label. In fact, this might actually be one of the most demanding and busiest jobs I’ve ever had in my life.

Some of the positions included, but not limited to, are:

Makeup Artist

Model

Entertainer

Photographer

Director

Writer

Photo/Video Editor

Marketing/Social Media Manager

Entrepreneur

Bookkeeper

When you first start on this journey often times you start entirely alone. I have had the enormous advantage of having previously acquired a certificate in photography so I am capable of handling lighting, shooting, and editing with ease, and I learned basic makeup skills and got comfortable in front of a camera through this course as well, but good Lord the learning curve and jobs I’ve had to take on outside of this have been absolutely massive! I learned early on that taking pictures and videos of yourself is only about 25% of what you need to do in order to be successful in this industry.

I have a journal full of marketing strategies, information on social media sites and tricks to navigating them, notes on trending themes, lists of dos and do nots, pages dedicated to self-employment and money management, multiple social media pages to manage… and I’ve only just begun!

You’re constantly networking, reaching out to photographers and other models, researching what others are doing and what is working, interacting with current subscribers and doing whatever you can to attract new ones…

On a full day of work I probably spend a good 12 hours on just the business side of things alone.

So yeah. Real work? You’re fucking right it is.

And I’m the Boss Fucking Bitch who’s running this whole God Damn show!

[bubblegum-glitch]

The Lines We Won't Cross and How They Change

Let's rewind time a little bit, back to the year 2011. I had joined this little website called tumblr and had made an acquaintance whose confidence would begin to inspire me to branch out and try all kinds of things I never could have seen myself doing before that point in my life. I began recording and publishing vocal covers to YouTube, I started showing off my artwork publicly, and I even posted a single topless photo of myself online - all because I couldn't stop comparing myself to this random fucking girl. If she could do it, so could I...

But I was determined that I could do it better.

The "relationship" I built with this online stranger is a little odd, and probably would throw up several red flags for some people. I can't explain why I felt such a strong sense of rivalry between us, and I know she never felt the same, but there was just something about my interactions with this person that made me want to always do better than her, even to this day (even though I'm 100% sure she doesn't even remember who I am).

Creepy? Weird? Stalker-y? I dunno. Probably. Harmless? Absolutely. All I can say is she is the one who ultimately introduced me to the world of "Topless Tuesdays" and the alternative modelling site "SuicideGirls."

She had posted a set to SuicideGirls as a hopeful, and being in full rival mode at the time I had considered doing the same. Ultimately I decided against it however, as the fear of any member of my family every finding out gave me far too much anxiety to overcome (hold this thought). Not to mention I couldn't bring myself to believe I was "pretty enough" to succeed.

I often wonder what would have come of that if I had ever gone ahead with that hopeful photo-set submission.

But I digress.

Let's jump ahead in the timeline to around 2017/2018 (I can't quite remember when). I had a case of the retail woes, a certificate in photography, and a foolish idea to escape the Hellscape that is customer service once and for all. The internet had informed me that feet pics were in and there was mountains of cash just waiting for me, all I had to do was step on a twinkie or two.

Long story short (or short story shorter) I failed in this business venture pretty much immediately. It's harder than you think to market and sell pictures of your tootsies.

Now, let's spin back a bit to where I mentioned my fear of my family discovering my nudity online. This is a topic I will address a bit more in a future post, but I will let you know now that although my parents do try their best to steer more towards the life of liberal boomers, they are still very uncertain of LGBTQA+ topics and VERY against sex work. I have built a strong and close relationship with my mother, but if she ever discovered what I've begun doing for work I believe it would ruin all of what we have.

Early in 2023 I began weighing that fear of my family discovering me against the possibility of actually making a living wage by taking my shirt off for strangers online. After many discussions with my husband (who has been fully supportive since day one) and a long time of back and forth with my decision, I finally decided to give OnlyFans a try.

Originally I had no intentions of posting more than some topless photos. I used what I knew about photography, photo editing, and makeup to my advantage to create some high quality, if a little bit minimal, content. Upon seeing there was some interest, but being unable to hold the attention of anyone for long, I decided to step over that initial line I had drawn for myself and posted some full nudes. Immediately I started seeing a positive response and suddenly I had a little extra spending money.

At that time I said that this was as far as I was willing to go. Excuse my vulgarity here but I had no intentions of doing pussy pics or spreading my asshole. Tasteful nudes, and no farther.

I stuck to that line for about a year, until the inevitable "Fuck it" moment I previously posted about occurred in July of 2024. I stepped over the line again and started posting some more risque content at a premium rate. It was then that my OnlyFans really started to take off and I was seeing actual financial gain in response.

Once more I drew a new line for myself that I swore I would not cross. Absolutely no video content.

But then I couldn't stop considering making that video content. I would think about it so often that I actually began frequently dreaming about creating pornographic films.

So once again I turned to my partner and we discussed the pros and cons, and eventually I decided to dip a toe over the edge and get a sense of the temperature of the deep end.

Admittedly, that first masturbation video I made embarrassed the fuck out of me. I felt exposed, I felt ugly, and I felt very stupid. But then the response to it came.

"I love this."

"That was so hot."

"You're so gorgeous."

"More, please."

So I decided to try again, and again, and then suddenly I fucking LOVED making the videos. The sense of empowerment, the ego boost - It gives me this absolute sense of control. Something I have been missing in every single career I've ever had in my life.

It was about the third video that I realized "This is it. This is exactly what I want to keep doing with my life for the next several years."

But this is the point where I want to say this to anyone reading my blog who is considering this vocation as a future (or even current) option:

Set your rules early. Understand what you do and do not feel comfortable doing, and express that to your followers. You NEVER have to do anything that you are not comfortable with, even if it's what people are trying to push you to do. At the end of the day it is about your level of comfort, not their level of enjoyment. Set the line you will not cross and do not cross it unless YOU want to. You might have to work a little harder to build a community, but you can get there.

I still have multiple things I will not do, some of which I will likely never do, and others I might be open to one day exploring.

There is no timeline in existence where I will ever be comfortable sexting someone. I'm not even comfortable doing that with my own husband. It's just not for me.

I will not do the dom/sub stuff.

BDSM - Yeah, not happening.

Fetish content - It depends, I have no problem sitting on a cake and giving my husband a foot job, but most Fetish content is a nope from me.

Threesomes? Absolutely not.

Meetups? Hell to the fucking no. My husband is the only person I'm sleeping with and I'm firm on that, thank you.

In this industry you are the boss. What you say goes and your followers can either take what you're giving and appreciate what you do, or they can pack up and find someone else to pester with their more extreme requests.

Who you are and what your destiny is belongs to you and only you. Don't let anyone convince you to change if that's not what you want to do.

Never be afraid to say no.

---

As a side note before I close out this entry, I've opened up an Askfm account so you can ask me anything anonymously. It can be about me, about my journey, or even just general advice for starting work in this industry. I'm by no means an expert, but if I can offer some insight to help you out I would be honoured to do so!

[bubblegum-glitch]

The Catalyst: Life working in retail and the moment I finally said "fuck it, I'm doing porn."

I've been working in Customer Service off and on since early 2005, only ever being unemployed for short periods of time between job searches. I've worked in various retail establishments, with shipping companies, call centres, door-to-door sales, and even in kitchens & cafes. The only industry I have ever refused to work in has been fast food, and I'm sure those of you who have worked a drive through or two in your lives can understand my reasoning. I began in my first year of high school working at a Dollar Store that was next to an extremely seedy strip club (it eventually burned down and it was discovered that the owner had done it to try and cash in on the insurance). From customers verbally and physically abusing me, to an elderly man jerking his cock in front of me, my first romp in retail was merely a taste of what was to come for the next 20 years.

Some jobs were certainly better than others. I worked at a bookstore and a Halloween shop, both of which would have been fine if not for the politics of the company bleeding into the staff and making us all miserable. Bad management teams, abusive coworkers, bullying and drama akin to that which we experience in High School - it becomes exhausting after awhile. For minimum wage, which doesn't even come close to a living wage, it's just not worth the headaches. I rarely lasted longer than two years with any of my employers. When you're handed a penny raise after working your ass off for an entire year you tend to lose faith in the company that you've been breaking your back (and sanity) for. I promise, there was no lack of trying on my part to escape the clutches of the customer service industry. I have my BA in English, I have a certificate in photography, and I have some training in IT Web design (which proved to be far too much for my little brain to handle) and Audio Engineering. Unfortunately the job market for all of these industries in my part of the world is pretty much non existent. I'm pretty sure a BA in English is worth less than toilet paper even after the great pandemic shortage of 2020. Unfortunately, to make money in this world you gotta do what you gotta do. So to pay off my crippling debt and be able to afford an occasional package of ramen noodles so I don't starve to death, I have to continue working these soul crushing, mindless jobs.

It was in 2016 when I started working in donation rooms at thrift stores and, I will be completely honest with you - I fucking love it. Granted, it has it's downsides. I've sorted through more than a couple bags with mould, human feces, needles, and used sex toys, but the satisfaction of the treasure hunt it's absolutely worth the nasty shit that you sometimes encounter. But once again, the politics of the industry got in the way of finding my work enjoyable and rewarding. Nasty upper management was the downfall of all three thrift locations I've worked at. The first store the CEO shut us down without warning (I also later learned he was a sexual predator and was being sued by some of his employees for harassment, so that was gross). The second location had a violent customer base (we were robbed repeatedly), a bully assistant manager who would scream in your face when HE made a mistake, and a regional manager who loved to throw her staff under the bus.

So that leads us to my third romp in thrift, my absolute favourite job I've ever had, and the devastation brought upon me when everything came crumbling down.

My husband and I came into a little bit of money in 2021 and I decided to take a break from the world of customer service bullshit and return to school (This was my IT and Audio Engineering training). That summer I got a student job at a thrift store where 100% of the proceeds go into helping rescue animals. It was entirely volunteer based other than the management team and the summer students (who were there on a government grant). I had such an enjoyable experience working there as the volunteer coordinator than I returned the following summer, and they were so impressed with me they ended up hiring me on permanently part time to help with their rapidly growing business. At this point, due to some mental health struggles, I am not currently able to work full time hours, and they were more than happy to work around my disability...

Until the new regional manager was hired.

The store closed for renovations and I was brought in to help rebuild and re-brand the store.

Sure. No problem. It's more hours than I'm available for, but I don't mind just for a couple of weeks. It's also more physical work than my body is really equipped for but, just this once, I'll suffer through with a smile on my face.

Then I'm handed a key and I'm told "You're a staff supervisor now". Oh... okay? No one talked to me or asked me if I wanted the promotion, it's more hours than I can handle, and I don't really want the responsibilities that come with a supervisor position because of my disability, but since my old position has been dissolved I guess I'll have to suck it up. At least it comes with a raise, right?

Nope. Still minimum wage. Which is currently sitting about $15 under a livable wage. Also, we won't be training you and just expect you to know how to do the assistant manager's job.

Okay... Gotta do what you gotta do I guess.

You also have to work more shifts than you're available for.

Oh... yeah, okay. That could start to prove difficult as I'm dealing with a depressive episode right now but... sure?

Then suddenly I'm responsible for everything that goes wrong. A volunteer makes a mistake? Blame Billie - even on days she isn't working. The cash or pricing machines break? Billie. Shoes, purses, dresses, and coats priced to low? Blame Billie and make sure she's the only person who prices these things from now on. Need 30 things done at once right this second, tell Billie and don't let her delegate the tasks to anyone else. If she does, yell at her! Have Billie open and close the store for the next two weekends, but don't train her how to do it and expect her not to make any mistakes. Customer has an issue? That's right, it's also somehow Billie's fault! Even when she's at home sleeping!

Blame, blame, blame, blame, blame, blame, blame.

Yeah. This was the breaking point for me.

In July of 2023 I had started up an OnlyFans account to bring in a couple extra dollars. I'll discuss why this was a challenging decision for me in a future post, but originally I was just planning to post some tasteful nudes to earn myself a little spending money. By May of 2024, as all this bullshit had begun happening at work, that mindset had officially gone from a couple tasteful nudes to "Fuck it, I'm quitting retail and making porn." By August I had amassed enough of a following to put in my notice.

I am finished with retail as of October 15th, 2024 and turning to creating adult content full time.

Honestly, this is a terrifying leap of faith as I know content creation can be a fickle beast. Some months will be more lucrative than others, while an inability to keep people invested could have everything all come crashing down on top of me.

But I'm done with working for people who take advantage of me and pay me pennies. I know my value and I'm worth more than what I'm being given. I'm not a number who is easily replaceable, I am a strong capable woman who is in charge of her own destiny.

So fuck you workforce,

I quit!

Now. If you'll excuse me, I'm off to live life how it's meant to be lived,

Enjoyed!

[bubblegum-glitch]

I suppose the best place to begin an introduction is at the very beginning. But let's be real, that's 35 years of filler that I'm sure most of you don't have the time to read through. Life is short, and life is busy, so how about we bullet point the highlights and "need to knows" leading up to the journey that you're all here for!

Hang on to your butts, I'm about to throw a lot of information at you in rapid fire succession.

I was born in April of '89 and was raised on the East Coast of Canada.

I have 4 older brothers, my parents are still together, and aside from a few hiccups I had a pretty good home life.

I have some alcohol related trauma due to my dad's addiction. He was never violent or abusive, but there are some mental scars that never fully healed. (Note he is now sober and our relationship is much better these days.)

I have a very close relationship with my mom.

My mom babysat so I was raised with 3 girls my age who are my sisters from other misters. We may not be related by blood, but we have that same bond that sisters have.

My family would have been considered lower middle class.

I was a tom boy growing up. I was more interested in video games and beast wars than barbies and baby dolls.

I started showing signs of mental health issues (anxiety, depression & panic attacks) around 10 years old (the same time my period started) but they were not addressed until my late 20s.

I had severe acne in my teens and have bad permanent scaring on my cheeks as a result. This led to an ongoing struggle with Body Dysmorphia and a lot of money spent on skin resurfacing that never worked.

High School was horseshit but I never dealt with any severe bullying. These were the years, however, that I began self-harming.

I wasn't "popular" per say, but I had lots of friends growing up.

I started working with a paper route at 10, then at 16 got my first job in retail at a Dollar store that was located next to a strip club. I will regale you with those stories in a future post.

I would be employed in the customer service industry without a break for the next 8 years.

I got my BA in English straight out of High School and put myself in crippling debt for a useless piece of paper.

During a night of D&D spent over at one of my friends' exes apartments, at 19 years old, I had my first kiss, got drunk for the first time, and lost my virginity all in one shot.

I did not drink or do drugs as a teen.

I have never done hard drugs or smoked cigarettes.

I have only been drunk about 5 times in my life, only once bad enough for a hang over, and rarely ever have a drink even to this day.

I didn't start smoking weed until my mid 20s.

I went full emo (aesthetic, music, and personality) in University.

My dream job is to be a novelist.

I have a certificate in Photography and shoot nature as a hobby, and pets as a paid gig from time to time.

I had a popular YouTube channel for like 5 minutes in 2009 but then I panicked and deleted it.

I have never had a career outside of customer service.

I have only had five sexual partners in my life.

I have only ever had two relationships last more than 2 months.

I identified as aromantic asexual for a very long time.

I do not currently know what I identify as sexually. Most likely aromantic bisexual, but it's very fluid.

I have been with my Husband for approximately 10 years.

I have attempted suicide twice.

I was diagnosed with PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder) around the time I was 30 and began LIFE CHANGING prescription medication (sertraline).

I do not like nor do I ever want children so I got my tubes tied at 32.

I'm a huge animal lover and as of this time have owned 2 cats, 4 dogs, 3 budgies, 2 hamsters, 1 rabbit, and 7 rats over the course of my lifetime.

I have an incomplete education in IT Web Design and Audio Engineering.

I have vocal training but hate the sound of my voice.

I made money streaming video games on twitch with some friends for a bit in 2016 - 2017.

I started working in the donation rooms of thrift stores in 2016 and honestly if it wasn't for the bullshit politics of the companies I've worked for I could totally see myself staying in that industry. I wouldn't be against opening my own thrift shop one day.

I have been an introvert since Junior High.

I am agnostic.

Okay... Alright, okay, alright.

I think that covers all the need-to-knows of my life before I said "Fuck it" and started taking off my clothes in front of the camera. Thanks for sticking with me through that whole information dump. Hopefully that's enough to give you a bit of an idea of who I am, and can maybe help break that idea that all sex workers have tragic pasts and severe trauma.

My life has never been tragic. Yes, there have been hurdles I've had to overcome, an alcoholic parent, navigating life with severe anxiety and depression, and the adolescent struggles any teenager and young adult may face. But really, my life has honestly been kind of uneventful, and I don't mean that as a bad thing!

This is my foundation, the building blocks that made me who I am today. And who is that?

Well, stick around and I'll tell you!

[bubblegum-glitch]

Hi! I'm Glitch! I'm that nerdy Canadian girl next door who comes over to play video games, smoke some weed, and raid your fridge for snacks because the ones at my house suck. I'm addicted to everything Y2K and you'll often catch me absentmindedly standing in an open window taking my clothes off for the neighbourhood to see! Really though, I'm Billie. I'm a girl in my mid-30s who has just begun to navigate the wild world of Sex Work as my next career path. This blog, while not hosting any explicit imagery, will not be entirely safe for work as I chronicle my journey from blindly quitting my soul-sucking customer service job, to my triumphs and failings of pursuing a career online that involves being naked 90% of the time. If that sounds interesting then please feel free to join me we spiral down this rabbit hole filled with uncertainty. https://linktr.ee/bubblegumglitch