#but also. I don’t get shit done without my meds. I wasn’t consistently medicated in high school or freshman year of college

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

*rattling the bars of my cage and screaming*

I WANT TO TAKE CARE OF MY HEALTH I JUST DONT KNOW HOW TO ASK FOR HELP IN A WAY THAT WILL LET ME BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY

[into-control]

submission:  

Hi anon. The reason people are unfollowing TTB isn’t just because of the “feud” between her and femmetay. It’s because of her overall behaviour.

          I’m the type of person who always tries to see the best in people, and a week ago, I probably would have defended TTB the same way you are. But it’s kind of a matter of right and wrong at this point.

         Growing up in the society we’re living in, none of us are immune to having subconscious biases. That doesn’t necessarily make us bad people as long as we acknowledge that and put effort into unlearning those biases and doing better. TTB clearly has some of these biases.

         For example, the racial bias. Racism isn’t always conscious. She, a white woman, has been consistently trying to silence people of colour and shame them for their feelings. She’s been dismissing their opinions, speaking over them and acting like her own opinion is more valid, and she’s only been validating the few POC who share her opinion. That is a form of racism. It might be subconscious, but it’s still racism.

       It’s even more clear when you compare her reaction to this situation with the way that: A) She harshly called out Shawn and Ed Sheeran multiple times for not showing enough support for Taylor publicly, and B) The way she herself called out Taylor and even almost unstanned her, just for going on a pap walk with Joe.

        Also, the bias against Jewish people. Calling the Kushners and Scooter “rats” is extremely tone-deaf. There are some words that you just do *not* use against certain racial, ethnic, or religious groups because of the history of hatred and discrimination that is linked to those words. You cannot separate that insult from its dark history when you’re using it against people who are Jewish.

        And the ableism. TTB knows perfectly well that femmetay is bipolar, and she called her “crazy”, “emotional”, and “literally mentally unstable”. The word “literally” really says a lot about how she meant it. That is fucking awful. That is blatant ableism. There isn’t even any room for giving her the benefit of the doubt with this particular example.

        You guys might not see it as being that bad, but it’s disgusting. People don’t talk about ableism enough. Calling people with mental illnesses “crazy” and putting them down is so harmful.

       I have an invisible disability, and I also have OCD and anxiety. The reason I never got *any* support or understanding until I got a diagnosis when I was 18 is because my family were so afraid that people would find out and would think I was “crazy”. So, I never knew what was “wrong” with me, I struggled alone, and I would constantly be told by grown adults (family, teachers, strangers, etc): “Stop acting weird”, “People are going to think you’re crazy”, “They’re going to send you to a mental hospital”, etc. And it was really damaging in so many ways.

       My dad has PTSD and ADHD and went without being diagnosed, without telling a single person, and without any medication until he was in his 40s. Why? Because he was so worried that people would shame him and call him “mental” or “crazy”.

       My uncle’s situation was very similar to femmetay’s. He was bipolar, and he was a teacher. He was great at his job, and the students liked him. But once the parents found out he was bipolar, they gave him hell for it. They would constantly shame him, call him “mentally unstable” (even though he was on meds), tell him they didn’t want “someone like him” teaching their kids, etc. And I strongly believe that if it wasn’t for the stigma about mental health and the constant ableism he had to face, he would still be with us today. (note: as somebody who attended public school up until now, teachers who happen to have a mental illness are really not worrisome at all. there is so much other shit that is actually worth worrying about. like pedophiles.)

      This stuff *can’t* be taken lightly. Comments like the ones that TTB made are a major contributing factor to the reason that my uncle and so many other disabled and people with mental illnesses are no longer with us today.

      It’s literally inexcusable how she strongly implied that femmetay shouldn’t be a teacher. It’s also telling how she deletes so many comments from her posts, but she didn’t delete the ones where some of her followers literally outright *said* that. That isn’t an individual attack. That is an attack against every single teacher in the world with BP, if not every person with BP in general.

       TTB also has harassed so many people in their messages out of the blue. And you can see the difference in tone. On her blog, her tone is a lot more “neutral”. In these messages, her tone is harsh and, in some cases, even kinda aggressive.

       And I’m not saying that TTB’s biases mean she’s a terrible person because, like I said, we’re conditioned to have biases. But the problem is that so many people have respectfully tried to talk to her and have tried to explain why some of the things she says are problematic and hurtful. But instead of hearing them out and apologising and making an effort to be better, TTB always reacts badly and becomes defensive. She then continues the same behaviour.

       It’s at that point, once she’s been informed and still continues, that her actions switch from being *unintentional* to being *deliberate*.

      Anyway, I’m not saying she’s evil or that I hate her or anything. All I’m saying is that I don’t want to support someone like that unless she actually changes. When you have a huge platform, especially as a straight white woman, you have a responsibility to listen to the feedback of POC and other minorities, and if they’re telling you that something you’re doing is hurtful, you should take a look at yourself and examine your behaviour instead of getting defensive and deleting and ignoring the things they’re saying.

        And maybe this whole post was unnecessary, but I’m only writing it because so many of her followers are blindly defending her and acting like she’s not done anything wrong 

[thisisabouta]

This is About a... Downfall.

It’s happening. I’ve been taking Lamotrigine consistently for 8 months or so. Maybe longer. This is the longest i’ve consistently taken medication in a long time. It’s Lamotrigine along with Doxepin, Hydroxyzine and Gabapentin.

This is where my head has been during these last 8 or so months. I was driving on the freeway, about to merge and as I saw my car getting closer to the concrete barrier, I decided to go faster instead of slowing down for the car that had the right a way. I was about to crash into the side of this fucking car but I just kept going. The car to my right had to slam their brakes and I waited to hear the loud crash from the cars behind them because there was no way this wasn’t about to be a 5 car pile up.

God was there because nothing happened but that was way too fucking close to a catastrophe. The car that I cut off trailed me for awhile and pulled up next to me, I’m sure they were trying to cuss me out, flip me off, something... Whatever they did, I didn’t see it but it was justified. I would’ve been fucking heated if it had been the other way around. I cut people off all the time. I drive like an asshole, whatever. This was different.

I’ve been disassociating for weeks now. In that moment, I could see everything that was happening but my brain was not telling my body the correct way to react. I knew to slow down but I couldn’t. Everything i’ve been doing lately has had a delay. 1 minute. 5 minute. 10 minutes. My processing is delayed. My speech stumbles out of my mouth and doesn’t make sense. I’ve been blacking out and losing moments of time for years now but not to this severity. Now it’s like i’m blacking out and not fully coming back from it.

I’m around people constantly. I’m in a position of “leadership” at work so I have to direct and plan, be on alert at all times. My work day now consists of getting asked questions that I can’t comprehend fast enough so I stand there with a blank stare on my face, slowly losing my credibility. It’s worse because some of the things i’m being asked, I absolutely know the answer to but my brain just cannot get there. I can’t focus on ANYTHING. I know i’m walking around in circles (literally) and I know other people see it but I can’t stop. This circling shit happens a lot but it’s picked up in frequency. After I realize what i’m doing, it’s already done. People are trying to get my input and ideas and all I can do is squeeze my hands together and stare straight ahead, hoping my brain will figure out that I need it to work.

When I try to read, I can’t. This isn’t all the time but it happening occasionally is already too much. Words are not always making sense to me. I cant understand what i’m seeing and I have to go over things multiple times. It’s the same with counting. I shouldn’t have to use a calculator to add 30 and 20 or hold five $5 bills in front of me and stare at them until I realize what it is that i’m looking at. It’s embarrassing to even acknowledge that this is happening.

I’ve been losing things more and more everyday. I’ve had a habit of losing my keys. I lost my work keys at my last job, three times. My new job, i’ve already lost my keys once and it hasn’t even been 2 months that i’ve been working there. When my coworker texted me telling me that she found them, I just wanted to cry. That sounds ridiculous but having those keys is a huge fucking responsibility. I can get fired for losing them. Somehow I escaped that at my last job but it was a constant fear that I had. This last time, I hadn’t used the keys at all that day and I still managed to lose them. I retraced my steps and I had not taken them off of my keychain. Things like that don’t help me overcome this engrained idea I have that the universe is against me. Those keys represent me trying to do everything I can to keep it together while everything still managing to fall apart.

I’ve been forgetting to pay bills that i’ve been paying on the same day, every month for years. I’ve been forgetting people’s names. I can’t always comprehend what people are saying when they’re talking to me... that’s been a big one. I had a customer walk to my register at work. I was looking down at something when he asked if he could pay for his merchandise (I found out later on). That’s not what I heard. It came out as mumbling so I just assumed he was making a comment about something that was left on the counter. From what I remember, I said “Oh... yeah...” and went back to what I was doing. He looked at the Associate next to me and she told him that there were registers at the front where he could pay (she was already helping someone). He walked to the front and it took me about 2 or 3 minutes to realize that he was asking if I could ring him up. And to add to that awesome moment, he glared at me for the rest of the time he was in the fucking store. Yes, one small incident but that’s nowhere near how many times something like that has happened. Someone will be talking to me and i’m literally catching about every third word they’re saying. You can only ask “what?” so many times before that person looks at you like you’re the dumbest person they’ve ever met.

Writing things down... i’ll go back and read over my notes. They make no sense. Things are spelled incorrectly. Everything’s scattered. Like someone else wrote it. I walk around feeling like i’m not apart of my surroundings. My surroundings are not reality, like walking through a Fun House with no fun in sight. It’s like i’m seeing everything in those mirrors that make everything look distorted. All I can do is stare and try to figure it out. I can only imagine what that looks like from the outside. People walking around me while I just stare. Standing there trying not to cry because i’m in public.

I’ve been hallucinating. That comes and goes. I’m still forgetting why I picked certain things up, or why I walked to a certain room or what I was going to tell someone. Things a lot of people do but usually with somewhat immediate recall. I’m not remembering these things til days later, if at all. That’s the more frustrating part. Very small, seemingly insignificant things are happening over and over and over again. It’s no longer an insignificant mishap, this shit is snowballing and affecting everything. I can’t manage a store if I can’t function like a normal, fucking human being. I talked to my Probation Officer about some of the things that were happening and she asked me what medications I was taking and if any of them were used to treat seizures. Gave her the list and two of them just so happen to be used to treat seizures. I already knew that was the case but didn’t think that they would cause this long, intense stream of side effects. I know all about the side effects of medicine. You’ll basically die if you take it and die if you don’t.

I’ve experienced the lighter ones. Nausea, dizziness, dry mouth. The usual shit. Not forgetting how to read a fucking sentence. To my POs knowledge, those drugs do cause a lot of neurological problems, much that make it feel like i’m disassociating. Most of these things had been happening prior to taking the medications but it got much worse over time. I read up on the side effects in detail when I got home and everything aligned. So [because I will control this situation as much as I possibly can] I stopped taking the two that were the main issue. Should anyone ever just stop taking their medicine without consulting their physician first? No. Did I do it anyway? Yes. Now i’m going thru the withdrawal. Besides me losing my fucking mind, the Lamotrigine was actually working. It was the first medication I had taken for my Bipolar that has ever had that positive of an effect on me. But that was at the expense of me literally going insane. It’s not going to matter if I feel better when i’m dead because I crashed my car into a wall. The risk does not outweigh the reward. It did not cure anything. It did not solve even half of my problems but it did make me feel better. Not taking the Gabapentin doesn’t make a difference.

Now i’m going thru the withdrawal. I have 11 drafts on here that i’ve tried to complete and publish over the past few months and they’re just sitting in there. I know the only reason i’m able to write this one is because i’m not on the meds right now. Now my heart hasn’t felt off beat for the past few days (that’s a difficult feeling to describe) but in return, i’m the angriest i’ve been in awhile. I got in an argument with one of my employees this morning and did not feel bad at all. I got into it with another ASM a few days ago. I feel my temper coming back.

I made an appointment with a new MD for next week. I need to start over. I made an appointment to see my current Psychiatrist and cancelled it. I’m done with that guy. He keeps throwing these random pills at me and it’s not working. Not that the next doctor isn’t going to do the same, exact thing but I made an appointment at a facility that offers “Advanced Integrative Medical Care”. Basically, they’re on some new age shit. I’ve been reading up on Ketamine Therapy for over a year and even though it scares the shit out of me, i’m not completely against the idea. They also offer Medical Marijuana. I am officially now in my last 3 month stretch of my house arrest and this shit has finally gotten difficult. The first few weeks were hard because I was still trying to figure out what I could get away with and apparently it’s a lot but now, I just need this shit to end. I’m getting restless. I’m scared too tho.

I’m still going to be on supervised probation for a year (based on good behavior) but I need to get back to... something. I can’t be sober and I don’t want to be. Weed has been fine. Good, enough. I’ve grown a liking to it and found some that actually relaxes me. Alcohol. I miss alcohol. I’ll forever miss alcohol. I’ll miss it even if (when) I start drinking again. It’s that important. Watching movies, seeing people drink to have fun, to relax, to be brave, to socialize. And yet, I shouldn’t engage in that. I know I can engage in good things but the drinking is what i’ve been told I should stay away from. I’m not going to stay away from it. Alcohol makes things better. I know it, the people who tell me not to drink know it. It’s there and I need it. Yes, the problem is that I abuse it. I don’t know if I can overcome that problem. I’m going to try. That sounds crazy and insane so... it’s just going to have to be crazy and insane.

There are other ways to deal with my problems and i’m trying to implement them and hang onto them. I need those things too but I can’t walk thru the world with this open wound that is my life, unarmed. Chemicals... drugs... my brain chemistry will never be right and if I know there’s something out there that will give me temporary relief, i’m taking it. I just have to put the recklessness aside. This time around was a lot. I pray that it was enough to set me straight. Or at least to keep me out of jail for the second time.

[if-there-was-any-more-left-of-me]

I need to get this all down.

I shake all day long. My hands mostly, but my whole body too.

I'm always either starving or nauseous and wanna throw up. Nothing I eat makes it better. I crave garbage food and shovel down sugary snacks as fast as I can.

I'm always bloated, painfully so, and gassy. My stomach is swollen and hard, and it hurts to sit, stand, or lay down. I'm constipated most of the week, then visited with violent, painful, explosive diarrhea.

I'm thirsty and I drink and drink and drink but I never feel better.

I can't go to sleep til 5 or 6 am. I wake up at 7 or 8,go back to sleep, wake up at 11 or so and eat breakfast then go back to sleep til 2 or 3 or 4 or 5 pm. When I wake up, I am always The Most Tired I have ever been. I never wake up feeling happy or rested or content. I often have these really intense dreams that are more exhausting than being awake and I wake up panting, shaking, hot and sweaty (even with AC, a fan, and just a sheet), and feeling as though I had been clenching my whole body tight for hours.

Every sound is the most annoying sound ever. The radio, people talking, electronics, pet lickiing foot, water filter. My ears feel big and hollow and resonate these sounds like a big empty tin barn. Some sounds feel more like a thin, long drill bit being driven deep down in my ear.

I can't smile or laugh. I can't lift my head up.

I am so depressed and so angry. I hate the government, I hate the public for letting it all happen, I hate my mother for squandering our money and getting my health insurance canceled and for acting like she's not responsible for me being so sick.

I hate being trapped in this house where I can't even flush the toilet. I hate that my only outing is driving to go feed all the cats.

I hate that I can't use my phone consistently to escape because of the shitty service. I hate that my friends have all forsaken me and don't even wonder about me let alone want to see me.

My memory is gone. I can't remember anything, what time it is, what day it is, who I was just talking to, what I ate for breakfast. I don't know anything. My brain doesn't work. I used to be funny and clever and genuinely smart. But right now I can't figure out how to turn the shower on. People ask me questions and I can't answer. I can't listen to conversation because I dissociate so hard.

My head hurts all the time. Much worse having to drive facing the sunset. I can't see from it. Just painful white glare.

My diabetic neuropathy is getting much worse than the Gabapentin can handle. My feet are numb and everything I touch hurts my hands. Having to do things with my fingers is excruciating.

My back hurts all the time, whether I am trying to work or not. In addition to my lower back injury, it now hurts up high. Any way I move my neck or arms hurts.

I am dizzy all the time. Standing up feels woozy and thick. My knees, ankles, hips buckle when I walk. Obviously, walking hurts my numb feet. I have no sense of balance anymore. I used to be strong and steady.

Without my insurance, I can't follow through with the important testing my GI doctor was doing, which was originally to find out what was causing all my digestive problems, but then also included making sure something she found wasn't cancerous. But that's not important.

I can't afford my allergy pills, which are not important.

I can't see my podiatrist to fix my horribly painful ingrown toenails. Not important.

Can't see the pain management doctor who prescribes my pain medication and does minor pain alleviating procedures. Not important.

Can't see my psychiatrist who was in the process of trying out new depression medication and getting me to a level of functioning. I'm stuck in limbo with a medication that doesn't work for me.

Definitely can't see a therapist cuz even if I could afford it, I would be told every day what a waste it is and that I should manage my problems like SHE does, by yelling at my family and belittling my elderly husband (no that was a actual conversation we had)

Can't afford to get my regular blood work done by my regular doctor that she always insists we do monthly because we're very sick, unmanaged diabetics. I'm not even getting to take the diabetes medication I'm supposed to I'm just taking whatever free samples she has in office

God I miss going to the doctor. But that's not important. You know what's important? A 2005 red ford mustang pony edition that's held under titlemax. I have been told many times that that car will not be relenquished no matter what else has to go. I think that includes m8. Because I am very sick but I keep being told that I am imagining that I can't go to the doctor. I'm imagining that I can't afford my prescription.

Am I imagining the sick cat with a massive infection that's eaten a 2" by 4" patch of skin off his back that he licks raw every day? Am I imagining not being able to afford to take him to the vet? Am I imagining the massive tumors on HER dog? The dozens of them? I guess it's fine that she dies as long as we get to keep the mustang.

I am definitely imagining that the house is infested with millions of fleas and we can't afford the good medication (ie the $15/animal stuff that actually kills fleas) for 3 dogs and 16 cats.

Definitely imagining not being able to get get 14 wild kittens spayed and homed.

But I know I am not imagining the dozens of stray cats we spend more money on every day that we feed. Those are real.

More real I guess than my sister's need for therapy or my dad's need for dental surgery after all of his teeth have rotted out and the infection is getting ready to spread.

But that's not important. My teeth aren't important and it is definitely my fault for not going to the dentist that I have holes and cavities and pain and shit and definitely not because SHE complained constantly about me wasting money by going to the dentist every year (back when we had money) and then obviously not going anymore once the money dried up.

I remember her screaming at me in 2017,threatening to tell the doctors and police that I refused to take my medicine so they'd lock me up because she didn't like how I responded to some of the dozen different meds I tried that year. I remember because now she has convinced herself that I never take my medicine and that all my problems would go away if I would just take my medicine.

I'm so sick. I'm so scared. I'm so angry. I don't know what to do. I just want to scream and tear myself open.

It's getting worse. And every time I say that I'm upset about concentration camps or not being able to get the medicine I need, I get told to take more medicine. I can't take this level of invalidation. The gaslighting. I do not know what is real anymore.

This seems like an afterthought but I also can't buy any healthy snacks to maybe cut back on the horrifying amount of sugar I consume every day because all the food money goes to pet food and sugary treats. And I get yelled at for asking for less sugar in the house. Told to just eat something else but there is nothing else. I don't know what to do. Lacy makes these watery soups out of whatevers in the fridge to feed us. But I want real food.

I can't stop shaking. I know why I am so goddamn sick. Because I am malnourished, angry, frightened, stressed out to the maximum, and have no recourse. Every complaint is met with gaslighting or being told to take more antidepressants, as though they're some kind of magic happy pills.

I want to check myself into the hospital but I can't afford it. I would have already killed myself but I am not villainous enough to abandon my 85 yr old deaf dad whose had 4 strokes and does all the outside work and whom mom screams and ridicules mercilessly. And my sister who's anxiety is on a hair trigger and whom mom loves to trigger and laugh at her panic.

I need a miracle. I need help. I need someone to fucking shoot me in the face. God kill me please I can't take this anymore please

[adhdisgay]

helloo ive been thinkin lately of finally getting a diagnose for adhd cos everytime i read about it my brains like “dats us !” so ive thought for a while that thats what i have and honestly the posts where u talk about not needing a diagnose to have like “the right” to say u have adhd are so encouraging and nice i love them. anyways i really want a diagnose so i can get some meds so i can actually focus and get shit done and i wanted to knwo how has ur experience been with taking meds? thanks 💚

aw omg, I’m glad my posts help! I know when I was on the diagnosis journey I often felt like I couldn’t even like adhd posts bc it wasn’t confirmed, so I want to make sure others don’t feel the way I did

my experience with meds has been an interesting one, that’s for sure! i started with meds about two and a half years ago.  they weren’t adhd meds, but before I was diagnosed I was originally put on anti-depressants and anxiety meds since my undiagnosed adhd gave me killer anxiety.  they mostly just made me sleepy and I would miss class because I was knocked out, so I stopped taking them.

once my adhd was diagnosed, I was put on 20mg of Adderall XR (the XR lasts all day vs. IR which is the more short-term medicine).  it definitely helped me focus, but I had TERRIBLE dry mouth and lack of appetite at first.  luckily those symptoms eventually went away for me!  the other thing I didn’t like was that it wasn’t a consistent boost of energy.  I would get a mild euphoria about an hour in and be ON TOP OF MY SHIT for the afternoon.  I would get everything done.  I was unstoppable.  I could kick the sun.  but then 5pm hit and I would crash, hard.

so I asked to be taken down to a lower dosage, and they put me on 15mg Adderall XR.  that one worked much better for me!  I still got a small rush an hour or so in and would still hit a small crash later on, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the stronger dose. I also rarely took my meds on the weekend, so I had a break from the effects every now and then.

this past winter I was switched to a different insurance that only covered generic Adderall, and I did NOT like that.  I don’t remember the manufacturer, but I have read online that people react differently to different manufacturers, so don’t take my experience with generic as everyone’s experience.  while I didn’t have a rush/crash, the effects just… didn’t end.  I could not sleep on generic.  I stopped taking medication because 1) I literally wasn’t sleeping, which was making me anxious and causing me to get sick, and 2) I finished college classes.

now I’m not taking any, though I would like to be.  my need for medication isn’t as strong now that I’m out of classes, but even working full-time was rough without them after a few weeks.  I think potentially trying Adderall IR might help me if I’m still stuck with generics.

so it’s up to you! medication isn’t for everyone, and it also causes different reactions for each person.  I know some people hate how Adderall makes them feel, but it worked very well for me.  on the other hand, some people love the generic stuff that was The Worst for me.

I would recommend being upfront about your concerns/questions with your provider! they will have a lot of answers, and in my experience are more likely to believe you if you already come prepared.  I had some providers accuse me of trying to just ‘get drugs,’ and being upfront about how I just wanted to see how medications worked for me helped ease that tension (hopefully you don’t experience that, though!).

Definitely stick with any medication you’re trying for at least two weeks, unless the side effects are so bad that you can’t.  it took a long time for my appetite suppression and dry mouth to go away, but once they did I felt amazing and productive on my meds.  it was still difficult for me to eat, but not impossible, and I was able to make it work.

that was an EXTREMELY long answer, but I hope that was able to help!  if you have any more questions since this was asked forever ago, or anything specific that I didn’t touch on, feel free to send another question or send me a message!  I’d love to help

[poppyknitt]

Thank you.

All of you have done so much good, I can’t even put it into words.

However, since I do have a bit of a story to tell, to sort of explain part of why I say this, and also to show how far I’ve come since I made this account, back in august, 2016, I will give you that.

In the last two weeks of March, 2017, I was given medications for my depression. To help them work, my anxiety medications’ dosage was halved.

The medications I was already on had a possible side effect of causing twitching, with symptoms similar to, but not unlike that of tic disorders like tourette syndrome and chronic tic disorder, so I might as well have just walked in and said “hey! why not fuck up my head a bit?” or something, because that’s basically the consequence of those six weeks of hell.

By the end, I couldn’t get through the day without at least one panic attack over my grades, band class, or a sudden inability to think anything but the repeating thought of “I can’t think, I can’t think, I can’t even fucking think!” (which is apparently a symptom of anxiety, so I literally was panicking over my own fucking anxiety-). So, that, and the fact that my adhd medicines (the other meds with that side effect I mentioned) weren’t working anymore, I was taken off of them before we could even see if they were helping me. That incident vastly increased the speed at which my anxiety has been getting worse, and on top of that, after only three or four weeks on them, I’d developed a tic that I would go on to blame on my adhd from then until I finally researched what tics actually were- A sort of thing triggered by immense levels of fidgeting that made me hand sort of... spazz out. I wasn’t, and still can’t control it. Thankfully, though, that tic doesn’t come up as much as the others I’ve developed over these past (almost) two years.

After that, in late august that year, a close friend i’d only met a few weeks before, in june or july, found my discord account, and started harassing me and another friend, because we were somewhat crushing on each other, and he also liked me. This is another thing I loosely refer to as “The Incident”, though, a lot of times, i just call it the Stalker Incident, because that’s what it felt like at the time.

My anxiety and depression tanked.

But that was also because that school year, although I tried to pull myself together to get it right, was the worst one of my life so far. My band teacher, whom I would later, in the late weeks of spring of this year, discover could be classified as an emotional/verbal abuser of not only me, but everyone in his classes, was finally in his second year of working at my school, and he was even worse than the year before. That was really bad to me, because I had his class two times a day, and, even, before the end of the first two semesters, in November and December, three times a day.

Basically, what he did to teach was he would constantly look for even the slightest of mistakes, and with the students who were unlucky enough to not be his favorites, a lot of times even just ignore whatever minor improvements you made. I was the worst affected, probably because I was already technically being physically and mentally abused at home (though, I didn’t know, and I still sorta deny that it was abuse at all, because sadly, even though it’s a fucked up fact, that’s just how you react to being abused by a family member...), although not as often, and also because of the two previous incidents that increased my anxiety a shit ton and tanked my depression a fuckload. It didn’t help that my parents constantly turned blind eyes to the case I had at home, and they didn’t have enough education on the symptoms of non-physical abuse on the mind to be able to recognize that something just wasn’t right. But, of course, because of a lot of the shit that happened previously during my hellish middle school life, I’d learned not to trust the word of the adults in my life, nor to trust them to take action whenever I expressed that something needed a drastic change, because it just wasn’t right. So, of course, I wasn’t just about to tell them my teacher was abusing me.

Anyways, so, yet again, I found that by the end of March, last year, I was right back in the same place as I had been during the six weeks- Not going a day without at least one or two minor panic attacks. At that point, I basically thought it was normal to have a tiny bit of panic every day, so I didn’t really stop to think “Oh, fuck, this is really bad, I should get help for this”, until like, late April or early May, when I broke down in literal tears because I couldn’t get even one little, 4-beat rhythm exactly right every single time I played it, and I was afraid I’d be yelled at again over it. Keep in mind, I was the best percussionist, out of 4, so he was probably way harder on me than the others for that reason. It was at that point that my friends started offering for me to help them take him to court a second time in two years over his treatment of the students. The first time he went to court was because he allegedly strangled an 8th grader back in the 2016-2017 school year. Charges were dropped on the first case for some reason (I blame misogyny and white supremacy, especially because this was in a small community of narcissistic, racist southern white people who were mostly conservatives, even if they didn’t think they were. if you can’t tell, i hate my hometown.), but I haven’t heard anything on the more recent one, since I transferred to a school in the neighboring city to escape my bullies and the hellish band teacher, both of which usually harassed me in the band room, but some of whom also extended to the other classes.

I had to quit percussion because I can’t go into the setup of a band room anymore without having a minor panic attack. Percussion was literally the only thing I consistently looked forwards to in middle school, because I could never rely on my friends to be there every day of every week in those three years, and I also barely actually had a chance to see any of them and enjoy their company. So, uh, yeah, I was pretty upset that I couldn’t bear the thought of playing in a band room anymore.

Once I was out of school that summer, everything changed for the better, because I had gotten accepted into the highschool I applied to. No more unknowingly abusive band teachers. Hell, not even any unintentionally abusive brothers, either, because he was going off to college. I don’t think I should have to explain how my brother was abusive, seeing as he literally didn’t seem to care about me at all until he got bored, and would proceed to hurt or terrorize me for fun, and laugh when I looked like I was going to have a heart attack, for fear of getting seriously injured. Sure, he didn’t give that many visible injuries, but that doesn’t mean shit in abuse cases. Abuse is abuse, no matter how many physical injuries are involved. There’s a reason there’s shit categorized as “emotional” and “verbal” abuse, dumbass. (sorry to those who knew that, I’m just trying to give the ignorant fucktards a little subtle warning before they send me an aggressive “oh, but it’s not really abuse if-“ bullshit ask or something. though, considering that they clearly wouldn’t know abuse when they see it, and think that just because there’s no visual physical wounds, it isn’t abuse, I doubt they’d even get that I was telling them to fuck off.)

So, basically, last summer was like, a godsend. The school year had left me truly hating myself for literally the first time ever in my life, and so, since my appearance was one thing I hated, I chose to dye my hair black, and get a new hairstyle, one I’d never had before (t was unintentionally not what I had imagined, but at the same time, I still liked it better than my usual). That saw my depression leaving me alone to the point that for the first time in literal years, I finally wouldn’t be able to say “I can’t remember what happiness feels like” without it being a lie anymore. I finally made progress to getting better, because I was nearly free of the things that plagued me in every year of my life up until then.

For the first time in my life, it seemed, I was finally being shown that I was capable of happiness, which, of course I had started to doubt before then.

School started.

I met @chaoticcrimsonrose , and, I also finally managed to fall in love without loosing the feelings a week or so later, all in the same day (I still am in love with that wonderful girl, though, we aren’t exactly a thing yet). I’m not gonna go into that, though, because that’s not the point.

The point of this next section is that Crimson reintroduced me to the Jacksepticeye and Markiplier fandoms. I had sort of been in them since 2013 or 2014, but I had only ever watched Mark’s five nights at freddy’s videos, and Jack’s undertale, as well as a few other videos from their channels on occasion (Plus, I didn’t actually realize there were fandoms for the boys until then). Since then, I’ve met so many wonderful, amazing people full of positivity and love for one another, and really, I honestly had the most fun in the last four or five months of 2018 that I think I’ve ever had. Hell, even now, and back in early October, when my depression spiked back up, and came back to shoot me straight through the head, I’m still enjoying myself every time I go on tumblr or discord, because of the wonderful people in their communities.

Between finding my passion in life, and finally being shown that I actually have talents, and the ones I was ashamed of, such as my art, were so much better than I ever even thought they were, everything started finally going right for me in the end of 2018. And, even if PMA doesn’t help me very much when I’m down, I still love the idea behind it, and I’ll continue to try to spread it, even when I’m down.

I love the communities Mark and Jack have started, and I love the people they’ve become. They’re basically what I’ve been aspiring to be for literal years- that kind, caring person, who doesn’t care for money, and would much rather you help out those in need, than give them free money. On top of that, they’re also amazing storytellers, and have such wild, cryptic imaginations. (I’ve actually been told by Crimson many times that I remind her of their creating/writing styles, and especially of the cryptic bullshit they do, which I find hilarious, because of how long I went without knowing about those facets of their personalities. Quite the coincidence, don’t you think?)

Anyways, to sum it up, I guess i’m just saying I’m so glad I found this place when I did; there literally couldn’t have been a better time for me to start meeting more people on the internet who truly care, that i’m not worried about telling all this to, because I know no one here will judge me for things that are out of my control. (And, well, considering how unpredictable the environment I’ve grown up in could get at any moment, I think it’s fair to say that I’ve sorta learned I don’t really have that much control over my life anymore (Thus the cryptic “i have no control” post i made yesterday or something, when i sorta started realizing just how little i actually do have, just to see if i freaked anyone out)-)

Thank you all,

for being so kind and welcoming and accepting.

Thank you all,

for being supportive and helpful to those who need input or hugs.

Thank you, all, so much,

for just being so wonderful. I don’t know where I would be without these communities.

(though, knowing how low I’ve sunken since thanksgiving, I might not’ve made it to 2019... so... yeah, really, huge thanks to all of you-)

———

Extra special appreciation:

@chaoticcrimsonrose - Thank you, so much, for being the person to show me these communities, and help me get more invested in things. You’re basically the kind of sibling I’ve always wished to have, and I couldn’t thank you more for being who you are so much. Also, another thing: The SDS really was your greatest idea. We’ve all only been on it for a few days, but... Holy shit, man, we’re all basically a family on there, and I love that. I don’t know what it would be like for me if we didn’t have the server, but honestly, I don’t want to know, either.

@rorald-spooks - Thank you, for being such a goofy doofus and always being there to cheer me up with your stupid cryptic dumbassery, no matter what I’m saying or feeling.

@startschantingpma - connie you’re a hecking idiot but ily because you’re awesome at what you do and deserve all the hugs-

@tiny-septic-puppet - Good god, man, we’ve come so far. I still vividly remember the day Crimson told me she’d been sending you my fics, and you’d been really enjoying them. That was so amazing to hear. But, like, to think we’ve now gotten to the point that you’re basically like a father to me is... really weird, but also fucking awesome. Ily, dad, don’t stop being epic.

@doodle-min : Mom, holy shit, you’re like, so amazing. I’m so glad we met, and I’m excited to go into 2019 with you and the rest of our wacky discord family. I really hope you keep up your awesome streak of the thing you mentioned, and I hope life keeps getting better and better for you; you deserve every bit of happiness.

@oliverissad - OLLIIIEEEEEE!!!! ILY!!! START TAKING BETTER CARE OF YOURSELF BECAUSE OTHERWISE IMMA HUNT YOU DOWN AND HUG YOU TILL YOU UN-SADIFY OKAY?! that goes for the rest of you doofuses too!!! >:v

@og-wilford-warfstache-discord - Fuck you! Don’t you “heh” me! Ily wilf okay don’t ever doubt that or imma take a page from moms book and imma slap you with cheese damn it-

@singular-dorito - UNC SCHNEP!! what? yeah idk i’m running out of unique things to say to appreciate people, whoops. but ye same goes for you as it does the rest of the fam-

and the rest of the SDS family, because i didn’t get any tumblr tags from the others- i lOVE AND APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU PLS DONT HURT YOURSELF OKAY YOU DESERVE TO BE HAPPY

@antis-loyal-puppet , as well as everyone on the jacksepticeye writing discord- Thank you all, for being so supportive of me, and being such a joy to have around. You’re all fuckin amazing, and I wouldn’t trade our friendships for the world.

And of course, I’d also like to thank Jack and Mark for being such amazing people, and being the whole reason I even know any of the dumb idiots I’ve tagged or mentioned in this post. You guys are killin the game!

<3

i love all of you idiots. stay as pos as you can. i know way too well how hard it can be to do that, so, just,,, keep on tryin, mates, you deserve every bit of happiness if you’re reading this, even if I’ve never even once spoken to you or interacted with your stuff.

[fraddit]

My recent experience with depression, anxiety, and ADHD

I figured I would make a post about this, because I know that at least a few of my mutuals are dealing with some or all of these things themselves and might find this helpful.  Who knows?  Very long, very personal, but mostly positive post under the cut.  Like, really, more information than you probably ever wanted to know about me and my problems.  Proceed, if you feel so inclined.

First, a brief history, for context.  Throughout elementary and high school, I consistently scored in the 99th percentile on standardized tests.  Then, I almost flunked out of high school, barely got my diploma, took a year off, and started art school college for an animation English degree.  I was going to write novels.  After a year or two of that, I decided I could write without a degree, so I dropped out.  What followed was a decade of several strangely varied and unrelated jobs and no novel writing. Working a stable corporate gig while not accomplishing (or even pursuing) any of my personal creative goals was DESTROYING MY SOUL.  So, I quit my job to become a full-time student and finish my degree, because at least that was kind of in the same universe as actually being creative.  And now, a year or two later, here I am, 32 and a few semesters away from finally finishing that English degree.  Clearly brains won’t get you everywhere kids.

I was diagnosed with ADHD at age 7 and was on some form of medication until sometime in high school, when I decided I didn’t want to take it anymore, for reasons I won’t bother getting into.  It never occurred to me to even consider medication again until this semester, when everything fell apart.

ADHD can impact a person in a multitude of ways.  For me, the biggest impact is probably executive function issues.  I can wander through the garden of my ideas all day long.  I cannot make myself sit down and do work, no matter how much I may want to.  For personal goals, that means a literal solid decade of zero accomplishment.  For school, that means procrastinating papers until the night before or morning of or sometimes even two weeks late, on the night before the professor has to turn in their grades.  And the level of personal effort it took to make myself write that two-week-late paper was herculean in measure, when it really should not have been.

I’ve since learned that many professionals suspect this very common procrastination habit of ADHD folks is actually a kind of self-medicating by way of adrenaline via stress response.  Which sounds entirely plausible to me, because every semester since I’ve been back at school, I’ve found myself pushing the risky boundaries of procrastination further and further, like a drug addict needing a higher dose to get a fix.  A very unsustainable and unhappy process all around.

Which brings me to this semester, when the wheels finally fell off the car, and one of the campus psychologists found me crying on a bench outside the counseling center because they were closed for lunch and meetings, and I didn’t know where else to go.  I couldn’t do any of my homework, was crying every day, and having panic attacks.  To put it simply, I was a fucking mess.

I made more appointments at the counseling center, I spoke with my professors about what I was going through (hello more panic attacks), and for the first time in over a decade, I remembered that there are medications I should maybe try, and I made an appointment to see the psychiatrist at the campus medical clinic.  (Also, guys, if any of you are students, look into your campus resources.  There’s support for everything at my school.  There’s even an office that’s only there to help guide students to all the other support options.  Seriously, mental health, child care, food, housing, you name it.  Get the help you need.)

When I explained everything I had been going through, the very nice psychiatrist at the clinic told me, with an unsettling degree of alarm in her voice, that I was “deeply depressed”. Which, I knew, but she really sounded shockingly concerned.  And it’s like, jeeze, I maybe didn’t realize just how bad things had gotten, because I was just living with this shit every day, so it was kind of ‘normal’ for me.

Anyway, she agreed to start me on meds for my ADHD.  The one I’ve been taking is called Vyvanse.  I started on the lowest dose and have been gradually increasing.  A month in, I’m at a dose where I can clearly tell a difference, and it’s having a noticeable impact.  I wrote a meta yesterday.  I was thinking the thoughts, and just sat down and wrote it.  This morning, I got up and wrote some more, just notes for future things to do, but I did it.  Fuck, I’m writing this fucking thing right now.

I thought that maybe I should write this shit out, and it took a little while sitting and getting my momentum going, but now I’ve written 800 1300 1650 words.  And I’m sitting here actually crying as I type this paragraph, because this small little thing is like the biggest fucking thing in my life.

I don’t have any way to accurately explain what a big deal it is for me to have actively decided to write something and then to have actually actively produced content of my own volition and design, that wasn’t assigned to me and didn’t have a due date or a grade attached.  And, that I’ve done it repeatedly now…

OVER TEN YEARS.  Over ten years I went, writing almost nothing. Might as well have been zero words. Guys, I’ve been walking around with a trilogy of speculative fiction novels in my head for over ten years, I’ve been planning another unrelated novel for the last two.  I’ve been planning something like 30 fanfics, across two fandoms, and another 20 metas for the past year.  Part of me probably assumed feared that none of that would ever see the light of day. But now, it suddenly feels like maybe I’ll actually manage to write some of it.  And I’m hoping like fuck that it’s not just a fluke.

Now, the ADHD meds aren’t the only thing I’ve been doing to contribute to this ‘good place’ I’m in currently.  I’ve been going to counseling.  Apparently, I have a lot of negative feelings about myself and my inability to accomplish jack shit for a whole decade.  Who would’ve guessed?  I also have weekly sessions with the disabilities accessibility team at my university to work on external methods for dealing with my executive function issues. (Again, if you’re a student, utilize your university resources.  You’re already paying for them with tuition.)  And, this is obviously not an option for everyone, but even before I started the ADHD meds, I took advantage of the fact that I live in a state where certain botanical products are easily and legally available and found a brand of gummies that really help with my anxiety and panic attacks.  (They’re high cbd, low thc, so calming and don’t make you high.)

So far, the meds aren’t 100% sunshine and rainbows.  With the dose I’m at right now, where I’ve been Getting Things Done, I can actively feel the drug, which is… not the greatest.  I feel jittery, vaguely anxious, like I’ve drank way too much coffee but worse.  And, the decreased appetite is something I really have to be vigilant about, because I don’t have any room to lose weight.  These were both known possible side effects of stimulant meds, so I wasn’t surprised, and perhaps the doctor and I will be able to fine tune the dosing or try another med or something.  But right now, I think I’m really leaning toward, I’ll put up with the side effects, because holy shit, I can finally actually do what I want to do.  Also, I think (and Nice Doctor Lady thinks) the new higher dose is having a positive, stabilizing impact on my mood.

I guess my reason for writing all of this, other than pure catharsis, is to say, if you’re dealing with shit like this, try to be willing to consider all your options.  For whatever reason, I didn’t think about trying medication for my condition.  It wasn’t even like I was anti-meds or something.  I just didn’t even think about it.  Not until a few months back, when I sent a random ask to an ADHD blog on here, asking how they managed to make themselves write, and they responded with I had to get medication.  Suddenly, it was like… why have I not been considering this option?  So, this story is for anyone else out there that maybe also hadn’t thought to consider this option.

And really, not just the medication.  I’m a hide behind walls, overly independent, do things on my own, never ask for help sort of person.  But, I guess I finally reached a level of desperation where I was like, Clearly, doing this by myself, my way, has not gotten me the results I want.  So, fuck it, I’m going to ask for help from every professional available to me.  Which, I’m very lucky, and currently have ready access to multiple resources in a way not everyone does, but being open to getting this much assistance is very new territory for me.

I’m not really sure how best to wrap this up.  If anyone actually read all of this, I’m astonished and… Hi, I guess?  You really know quite a bit about me now.  Hopefully, I haven’t scared anyone off.  And, if anybody has further questions about any of this or you want to talk about your own issues, I’m sincerely available for that. I think the world we live in today makes it too easy to feel completely alone, even when you’re surrounded by people, and I’m here for chats, if you need it.

[simply-sash]

This week has been rough and I’m thankful that it’s almost over. 

I took Zack to the vet again on Tuesday because he just hasn’t been himself lately. He’s been barking and whining constantly, to the point that I’m starting to lose my patience with him and I don’t like that. The vet tech that we had on Tuesday is one that trims his nails frequently, and even she said that he was acting weird. His symptoms were not something that would allow for immediate diagnosis as it could be a number of things causing it. We started with blood work, a urine sample, and an anti-inflammatory to help with his arthritis in his back. His urine sample came back fine, but his liver levels were still abnormal even though they had gone down slightly since I had blood work done in October. They suggest an ultrasound to look at his liver and his gallbladder, and hopefully that space occupying mass that they found in October. Yesterday they gave me a mild sedative to help him sleep at night, because he’ s been keeping me up pretty consistently.

I’m not going to lie, I’m a little nervous. I’m not naïve and I know that his age makes him prone to a number of things. The vet used words like cancer and dementia, and that scares the fuck out of me. If there’s nothing going on in his abdomen the vet says she believes that this could be early onset dementia, and I have no clue what that means for us. I am however thankful that I’m mentally in a much better place because three months ago I wouldn’t have been able to handle this. At least now, if there is something major going on, it won’t be debilitating. 

My mood this week has been generally good, this week has just been lengthy and stressful. After doing cash office twice this week, having a doctors appointment at 7 am in between those, taking Zack to the vet, spending one lunch at therapy and one with my grandparents, I feel like I didn’t sit down for two entire days. I was so exhausted after all of that, but then ended up waking up at 1 am yesterday morning and I wasn’t able to get back to sleep. I slept better last night, and hopefully I’ll get myself back on track this weekend, especially with the help of Zack’s meds. 

Yesterday was also the one year anniversary of Cody’s dad passing. Selfishly, I struggled with it. I thought about Cody all day, and I wanted to reach out so bad, but in my heart I knew it would probably hurt more than it would help, so I chose not to. He’s been pretty heavy on my mind lately. I’m at a place where I hope that he’s genuinely doing well. Part of me still questions what the future holds for us. The other part of me thinks that I deserve better. What I do know is that for the first time in my life I’m going with the flow, I’m happy, and I’m not obsessing about controlling every aspect of my life. 

I know that I've said before that I’m almost thankful all of this shit happened, and I know that sounds so backwards because I lost so much because of it, but damn I’ve gained a lot too. I’ve learned so much about myself, I’ve made so much progress between my medication and therapy, and for once I’m just fucking happy. I’ve been a relatively positive person and I honestly think I’m just a much more enjoyable person to be around. I still have work to do and I know that, but man I’m proud of myself. I’m so damn proud of myself and I will never allow myself to go back to the way that things were before. 

Things with Jerrod are still going well. I think that he deleted his Tinder, but he hasn’t said anything about it. I’m kind of nervous to ask if he did. No idea why, but I’ll just keep telling myself it’s because he’s not interested in talking to anybody else lol. I made cookies last weekend out of the blue and posted on my story that I hope my coworkers like them because there’s no way in hell I can eat two dozen by myself. He messaged me and said “Uh I like cookies too btw” so I stashed a few back for him. I was proud of how they turned out, but I’m always nervous the first time I make something for someone. I joked and told my sisters that he didn’t know what he was getting himself into because after he tried them he was going to want to wife me. He said they were super good and then deleted his Tinder the next day so.. Once I get my floors redone I plan on inviting him over for dinner. I’m really looking forward to cooking for him. 

This whole process had made me realize how much I actually offer to a significant other, and damn I’m going to make a good ass wife some day man. I’ve been putting some finishing touches on decorating around the house and it’s made me realize how hard I worked to turn this house into a home, and I bust my ass to make sure that it stays clean and well taken care of. I can throw down in the kitchen, both cooking and baking. I’m educated, I have a good job, I’m financially secure and stable, I’m kind, I’m compassionate, I’m supportive. Like I’m a whole ass wife without the ring y’all, and I can’t wait to share all of that with someone else some day. 

[somedaypast-thesunset]

I tell him in plain language I haven't eaten and have no money for food. He offers to loan me money and that I can come over. But it's -2 and all my cold weather wear is garbage from the 5 min I spent just going to the store. He says he has to charge his phone. I'm like OK but u can also do it on your laptop. "yeah but then I'd have to find my wallet". I gave a huge exaggerated laugh because who the fuck responds to someone asking to eat like 5hat? He thinks my reply is weird. I tell him I assume he's joking so I'm laughing otherwise I'm just depressed. He replies, "do you need money now?"

SO GCDFHJFFDXDJKCFYBVXSSJKCF

DO I NEED TO EAT TODAY? DO I? GYESS NOT BECAYSE I WOYLDNT WANT TO BORHER YOU TO FIND YOUR FUCKING WALLET.

the only mature non combative response I had was no response because I'm not even dignifying such a stupid fucking question with a response. Fuck you man. Just fuck you. I'd get more respect sucking dick for 40$. Quicker too.

And I'm trying soooooooo hard and it's just nothing. I'm doing nothing but expending the absolute most amount of effort I currently have before becoming sooo exhausted and frustrated that I'm becoming impulsively violent - much like traits I had very young that I worked to control. Like my day consists of waking up and being brought home. I smoke weed, find a podcast or video or movie to listen to but barely pay attention and try to bring myself to do anything. Like changing my clothes from yesterday. Going out to get food (which if I do is my entire morning and I'm done after). Lately I want soooo badly to get back into my shit. I used to be productive. Like I lost alllllllllllllllllllllllll drive for anything. I cannot fathom going to a job. My whole disposition says I want to die every moment I'm awake. I watched this doc about this crazy lady who starved to death in an abandoned house on an occupied street like ppl walked by the house she had neighbors but she like actively chose to just starve and die. And everyone's so confused like oh the neighbors were there she could've gotten food but no. I get this lady. I am this lady right now. I am in an abandoned house that is my body and my neighbors can see I'm here but they don't care if anyone is home. They wouldn't feed me.

In some ways I was like oh no. This lady is me. But she was delusional. Like she made ppl up. I haven't ever. But I am becoming like my mother more and more but I guess I empathize more. This lady was so depressed like she really wanted to die all the time and she was miserable and couldn't keep friends and I get it now. I got it before but now I really get it because there's no choice anymore. At some point you like... You're standing on the edge of the abyss and then u let go and from that point on its just free falling out of control. You can't stop it once it's hit full momentum. And I'm screaming cuz I did the drugs. And I can do them again so I can placebo effectvmyself for 2 weeks and crash again. I am existing solely for the purpose of a few other ppl right now. Like I can't die right here because my roommate has to find it and he's the last person I want to find dead me. Like if a stranger could spot a body that is me, that'd be good. Or like a dog finds me first. I want to go in a forest. I want my body to refuel the earth and I want animals to tear me apart like when the Indians let vultures eat their dead. I'm dead you know. People have too much control. I'm used to no control and I embrace the lack of control one has in death despite society trying sooo hard. And I'm still there you know cuz I want to control when I die. I wan5 to choose and death is not about choice. And it's hard to die. Killing yourself takes like extreme effort. I cannot selfishly take my cats with me tho I want to. I want to die with my cat in my arms, the only thing that ever really loved me besides my dad. I just want to go far far out where it's no coming back. Like even if I last minute didn't want to I want to be so far out in the woods I can5 make it back in such condition so I just die because wanting to live is the moment of weakness. This is not a moment. I am not in a decade long moment. I am suffering and I hurt and the "system" is a fools game. Like it took 100 yrs to accept certain medications and procedures as fucked up because it takes society 100 yrs to figure anything out and like I guess my hope is that because we're evolving technology so fast maybe in 5 years they will know how to fix depression. They will look in my brain and s3e the suffering and fix it. And I'll flick a switch and my memories will be neutral in feeling, not ptsd.

It's not even ptsd anymore. No, it's not JUST ptsd anymore. It's the starting long term effects of poverty. It's like.. My own mental issues maturing with me as I'm getting older and it's not easier at all?

Like I tried to do my shop and realized its so half assed and like I can't be this age and present this level of effort. I can do better I just chose not to but I spend effort doing it half assed still. I took apart 80% of my jewelry and have yet to go back to it because why. And that's sad. Like I have to be careful now to maintain what I do have or I may not care enough to do it again. I have alllllllllllllllllllllllll the time in the world to do something. Anything. Any. Thing. And I've listened to 350 episodes of last podcast, know deeply a 38 yr old man I never met who plays video games online, watched anything deemed good on Netflix, am totally up to date on s3veral news websites and podcasts and I smoke like 400$ worth of weed a month.

I don't even want to know me.

But like.. I don't pretend I just don't talk. I talk to others, share commentary occasionally but I just don't talk about anything. I especially don't talk about how depressed I am because it just bothers ppl and creates both positive and negative opinions none of which are helpful to the illness.

So im very very secluded. And I used to use isolated but that's negative. That's saying I'm forced into it. I'm forcing it. I'm not. I actively choose it now so I am secluded and extremely private.

I'm still trying though? Like I don't even know why. Today I signed up for usertesting sites because I already do contract tests for consumer reviews so maybe I'll make some money but at the same time I feel like its another dead end. Just go work at McDonald's.

Art wise, there is so much I could do to revamp my shop. All new, well made jewelry. I need all new photos including ones of my art with close ups and stuff. I want to "graduate" my art skills a bit. Like really make nice well cut paper with borders for matting and start to sign my work and like all of this means higher quality so a higher price. I can do fucking better. And honestly I'm not doing anything else right now. My mind is completely disabled and to consider working is laughable now. I know I'm not going to so I can stop being anxious about it. Fuck em. I've been doing a depression project for charity cuz that's what I did earlier this year too but this one is more personal. I have 3/5 of what I wanted for my goal but at the same time what I made is so.. Average. It's not great at all. It's just iok and does the job and I tried my best but maybe I didn't? The fact 3/5 have all turned out with fairly major issues makes me feel less inclined to continue and the whole thing pointless cuz why give something to the homeless that sucks. So u can feel good?

I don't want therapy or medication. I deeply hate society and most of humanity. I used to be OK with it and I wanted to be apart of it but I was so shit on by so many people that I can't do it anymore. It's not worth it. 30 years of shit for like 30 y3ars of average? Cool.

Still trying tho. Still asked for money for food and I'll go hungry today but I'll havevmoney tomorrow I guess. That's life. Me and the 45 ppl on main St homeless. Somedays you eat Somedays you don't. He will probably realize at some point he made a mistake - hopefully. Because if I have to chase him for it, I'm probably going to hang out by myself tomorrow too.

I'm now worried I have no good winter clothes and my boots have holes in them. I'm already in super debt. I have to get a new jacket and boots before it snows. I could've gotten an extra 10 if I braved the cold for 25 min tonight but I'm just so tired I don't care enough. I can't talk to anyone about this. Then I'm just poor and a burden cuz I have no job and spend money on weed. And I did. I put myself far into debt just for weed. I'm now working on this plan that since I've quit smoking I must be up some money so I'll slowly build funds back up by not smoking and not spending crazy. Which even now sounds bullshit. But I'm trying the testing thing as well. If I get my shop up before Xmas rush. These are reasons to try but I'm only trying because d3pression put me in debt. If I wasn't this sad I wouldn't spend this money. I wouldntvlive like this.

Honestly until I get this money I don't even have funds for the bus to get my birth control. At the same time tho I was willing to sit all of this out and wait but I have like 7 days to be paid and I can't go 7 days without eating at all.

I spent myblast 3$ on cat food and honestly just this run down alone describes how insane I am. Like there's no way it's OK for me to be on my own to this degree. No sound psychologist would say yes 100% clearly functioning on their own in need of no assistance. If someone described this to me in my moments of sound mind I would be like this bitch is dead in atleast 5 years. Prob less. Meds aren't enough. Therapy is not enough. And I don't deserve to be in a psych ward because my capacity for reasoning and logic is fully there and it's unfair to have success in q team monitored to be released into the same conditions you know.

What am I doing when my father's gone? This because no one recognized that in a Co dependent relationship there are two people who are d3oendent not just one and instead of really assessing the situation people chose to think I was lazy and living off my father (even tho I was not) ignoring severe depression and suicidal t3ndencies. Thanks.

I am the abandoned house.

Today I was trying to get ready to leave when he said he still wanted to smoke from my bong and ohh where do I have to go that's so important. And it's not just him. It's anyone who knows myclife. They d3cided my time has less value because someone who's not them d3cided to pay me money in exchange for menial tasks. Since I don't have that my time is meaningless and they can not show up to qppts or show up late or leave late or make me wait X amount of time cuz I have all the time in the world. They work u know. But I no longer care. For the people who know me I'm no longer accepting this and just going about my lif3 without them. For those who don't, I'm no longer going to share anything about my life with anyone. I'm just as valuable as you. My time is equally of worth. Fuck you for ever thinking different.

Just remember - anyone else alive, not your problem.

[catastrophizinglife]

FUCK YOU GUTHRIE

BEGIN RANT: Okay, so I’m done with having Guthrie Medical Group as my primary healthcare provider. I like my NP and all that jazz, but it’s not worth the headache anymore. She’s genuinely polite, and seemingly caring and compassionate. This is why my entire cluster go to see her. My sister, my daughter, my daughter’s little sister, and their mother. We’ve been with our primary for too many years to remember. We were even with Guthrie before our NP began practicing with Guthrie. Now whereas our primary is polite and sociable, she seems to lack in experience. Her knowledge just doesn’t seem to be enough. She consistently dopes us up with medications that just don’t cut it, and so we continue to have the same issues repeatedly. Even still, I have been willing to overlook it all, but enough is enough!

1) She’s not actually our doctor. In fact she’s not even a doctor at all, she’s a nurse practitioner. So every time we need medical information for miscellaneous appointments and prescription pickups etc, we’re always at a loss when asked to confirm our doctor‘s name. Our particular Guthrie office  employs only a couple actual doctors (who I don’t think even work there). They then hire dozens of NP’s to do the actual grunt work (us patients causing the grunts). Anyway, I’ve overlooked this fact for all these years.

2) I call, get put on hold, hang up, and call back again, until I’m finally helped. (We’ve all been here though, so no biggie).

3) I finally get through to the scheduling department only to be told that my NP is booked solid for over a month. Are you fucking kidding me? (Happens ALL THE TIME).

4) After all refills on meds are gone we have to schedule another appointment. We can’t just call the doctor’s office and let them know so that they can call our pharmacy and let them know, we actually HAVE TO go back to see them. Regardless in the amount of time it’s been; regardless on the medication, we must go back in, and there is no getting around this. - Yeah, because my chronic allergy issues, and my anxiety suddenly went away in 3 months time!

5 & 6) 5) The wait times for our SCHEDULED appointments is outrageous! Why are they always so backed up? Why do they continually double book patients?! I know that this is a common thing to rant about, but I’m serious, it’s horrid! Here’s an example: One day, recently, my sister had an appointment with our primary. I didn’t have an appointment, but because I was going to be there with her I figured I may as well just “do the Walk-In” right there in the same Guthrie office. We were there probably a few minutes before her scheduled appointment. Not 2 minutes later I get called by a nurse to come back. I get weighed, I get seen by the intake nurse. (The one who writes notes on the patient’s condition, and takes the weight, and vitals.) 6) The nurse tells me that the doctor, and a Nurse Practitioner in training will be in to see me in a few minutes. I’m all for medical professionals getting adequate training and experience. I don’t mind it at all. Who wouldn’t want a trained professional to have experience before becoming their primary care physician? And the woman who was still a student was so polite and professional. She was amazing! What I didn’t appreciate was the other nurse practitioner (or doctor) not actually doing a thing but sit there and watch the trainee check me out. I mean I told her that my ears itch terribly, and the sitting woman didn’t even look into my ear to confirm what the trainee was telling her was actually accurate. That’s just fucking lazy and pathetic. So now this nurse in training has THAT as her first few hours into learning in the medical field as her “how-to” guide. I mean is that just fucking insane or what? Anyway, all this happened within like less than 15 minutes. So I get out, and walk down the hall to the nurses station and ask where my sister’s room is, and they point me in the right direction, and I get in there, and they’re only at the point of the intake (vitals) nurse is visiting. So I get in and out in 15 minutes without an appointment, and my sister gets in much later than her scheduled appointment. That’s pretty fucked up if you ask me.

But this next one is where I have to draw the line between what is and is not acceptable for a patient to have to deal with, concerning medical professionals and ‘unprofessionals.’

7 &8) 7) I call to make an appointment, (this goes back to numbers 2 & 3) and after I’m told that I can’t be seen for at least a month, I’m told that I can go to any of their walk-in clinics and be seen for my particular medical issue. So I thanked the woman (even though I was irked because of the long wait-time I’d just experienced, only to be told I can’t be seen) because I’m a super nice guy even when I’ve been shit all over, and I got dressed. I had just gotten back from my daily walk to the post office a couple hours prior to leaving again, and when I was out earlier it had been warm out, and it was pouring cats and dogs, so I dressed for warm weather when I went out on this second walk. I did look out the window to be sure the rain had subsided before I got dressed, and thankfully the rain had stopped. Unfortunately, it had also cooled down quite a bit since I took my first walk. So that was rather unfortunate, but tolerable because I was finally going to get this medical issue diagnosed and treated. The problem is something I posted about in another recent post of mine: A burning, itchy, painful anus. Hurts to squat. Hurts to poop. The pain resembles the pain one gets when they wipe so many times in 1 day. I don’t know if it’s hemmroids, or if it’s an infection of another kind, or if I somehow wounded my ass -I have absolutely no idea why it’s happening to me, all I knew as I left here for the second time today was that I was on my way to get whatever’s wrong with my ass the help it needed so that I didn’t have to live in this pain anymore. Let me paint you a picture. Do you know what it feels like to have wet hair rub back and forth on an already painful, open wound? What about after you’ve sat in water for nearly 2 hours in hopes to ease the pain, gotten out, dried off, and applied hydrocortisone cream all over your freshly softened, open wound? It wasn’t until I was about a block away before the pain heated up by a thousand. Can you imagine what it must have been like for me to walk nearly 1 mile with wet ass hair in and around my asshole rubbing back and forth and back and forth against my softened, medicated wound?? Well if you can’t imagine what that was like for me then you’re actually very lucky. So I arrive at the walk-in. I’ve never personally been seen there, and had only ever gone there once with my sister, so I didn’t really know what to expect. Let me tell you what happened. 8) I walk in and stand by an empty reception desk for a minute or so before an employee walks out from a door in the back of the reception area. She walks over to a computer not where I was located, and asks me to come over to her. So I walk around the reception desk and am standing less than 1 foot from a patient sitting in the “waiting room” when the woman starts asking me for all of my information. I was fine giving her, and this patient who is an old man who looks to be about 60 or 70 -old enough to be old fashioned, but not old enough to be deaf my name, telephone number, address, and even insurance, but when she asked me the reason for my visit I was momentarily mortified. That mortification was quickly dissipated when she stood and said “Oh I’m not sure if we can see you for that. I’ll be right back.” The mortification was replaced with irritation. She came back out and said “yeah, we can’t see patients for those types of issues because we don’t have the equipment for rectal exams here. She then proceeded to ask if I’d like to make an appointment with one of their doctors (yes, in the same non-equipped office). What the fuck does that even mean? You can’t see me today because you don’t have any ass machines, but if I make an appointment for tomorrow you’ll suddenly have the machines needed? I didn’t say anything to her though about my frustrations, I just took the appointment for tomorrow and left. What the fuck!? What in the actual fuck?! But you know what, I wasn’t mad at her, or her lack of an ass machine, or the fact that what she was scheduling me for was kind of nonsensical, I was just so angry at the woman from scheduling who told me to go to the walk in clinic. Bitch I fucking walked damn near 2 miles today with wet hair rubbing on an open wound, are you fucking insane?! ARE YOU FUCKING OUT OF YOUR GOD DAMNED FUCKING MIND?! Believe me, I was crying on the way home! But not crying because of the terrible pain, but because it had gotten so cold that my face got numb and whenever that happens my eyes water uncontrollably. Man if I was a pistol-packing US citizen I’d probably be sitting in county right now.  

Guthrie, we’ve had our issues, but wrongly informed scheduling lady has crossed the line. I’m afraid our relationship is at its end. Goodbye!

END RANT