#it’s over some bitch-ass anxiety-related insomnia too

[syn0vial]

just had to request someone sub my summer camp for the second time in two weeks and kind of wanna kms, ngl

[toosmallinabigworld-blog]

Just What the Doctor Prescribed, Literally

I’ve been wanting to do something like this for a really long time and it means the world to me that so many of you have read the blog and been supportive. Hearing from everyone that read my last post confirmed for me that starting this blog was a good idea. I received a lot of compliments and anecdotes from people telling me that they appreciated my candor and willingness to talk about issues that they hadn’t heard talked about or weren’t able to talk about themselves. So, thank you for reading. I was struggling for a very long time with writer’s block, I would start something and then immediately criticize it and not know how to continue. It felt like I was running full force into a brick wall. I think that happened because I was trying to write fiction. When I was a kid and in middle school, I could write fiction like nobody’s business. Now, I realized that I struggle with fiction because I can’t relate to it anymore. I don’t want to write about made up characters that deal with real life scenarios. I want to write about real people that deal with real scenarios. So, let’s chat about a real life thing, shall we?

           Mental illness. It’s a phrase that people spit out of their mouths like it’s rotten. A phrase that makes people uneasy and nervous, ironically. The real life equivalent of saying Voldemort. This is a topic I’m nervous to discuss because it is incredibly personal to me. And I have reservations about talking about my experience with this due to the controversy surrounding it. But I feel that it is important to talk about, regardless of how weary it makes me. Mental illness is no joke and if talking about this could potentially help someone then feeling anxiety about this is worth it. According to The National Institute of Mental Health, in 2016 it was found that nearly 1 in every 5 adults in the U.S. lives with a mental illness. If you’re bad at math like I am, that’s 44.7 MILLION people. Almost 45 million people in the U.S. have a mental illness and yet we still treat those people that are afflicted like lepers. Like they are lesser human beings than us because of something that they can’t control. Now, not everyone who has a mental illness is treated like shit. Because some are more accepted than others and by accepted, I mean acknowledged. Such as ADD and ADHD. Those are illnesses that are more commonly accepted because they are less scary to think about. I don’t know anyone who has thrown a bitch fit over someone that has a hard time sitting still, concentrating and overlooking things. They’ve gotten frustrated but not immediately assumed that they were unstable and broken. Let’s face it those are the easiest to wrap the mind around. But when things start to get complicated is when people tend to start getting judgmental and scared and hateful. And hate stems from fear. I can’t remember where I heard that but it’s pretty damn accurate. For example, I’ve heard those who have Schizophrenia blatantly referred to as crazy. And why are they called crazy? Because of Schizophrenia’s most popularized symptoms, delusions and hallucinations. We’ve all heard tales of people seeing animals or people, hearing voices that tell them to do horrific things and those are legitimate things that happen. But those are all we hear about. And because we don’t necessarily understand why that happens, we get scared and demonize them. Which is bullshit. If we immediately got scared of everything we didn’t understand nobody would ever leave their houses. I don’t understand how concrete is made but that doesn’t mean that I don’t walk on the sidewalk or get in a car and drive on the street. I would venture to say that Schizophrenia is probably the most controversial of the mental illnesses, but it is not alone in illnesses that make people uncomfortable. Take OCD for example, people just think it’s obsessive organizing and that it is a choice, something they can just stop doing. But it is infinitely more complicated than that. It’s uncontrollable thoughts and actions that they feel they have to repeat over and over again. And in extreme cases, they think something bad is going to happen if they don’t carry out those behaviors. People’s reactions to those illnesses are what facilitate such negative thought processes about hyper common maladies such as depression and anxiety.

           Nothing pisses me off more than hearing someone say to a person with depression, just be happy. When you have clinical depression you don’t get to choose to “just be happy” because guess what? It isn’t that easy, it’s out of your control entirely. Clinical depression is a chemical imbalance in the brain. The brain isn’t producing enough serotonin, norepinephrine, and dopamine neurotransmitters. Causing feelings of sadness, hopelessness, lack of interest/motivation, guilt, low energy, etc. I could go on for pages and pages but at the risk of sounding like a commercial for an antidepressant I’ll stop. I think you get the point. I am one of those people who has been told to “just be happy”. I was diagnosed with depression coupled with seasonal affective disorder, anxiety, insomnia, and OCD like repetitive thoughts when I was in 6th grade. As if being 11 and in middle school wasn’t hard enough, let’s throw a mood disorder in the mix, that should be fine. Right? Wrong. Being told you have a mental illness is like waking up one morning and realizing you have a tattoo that you’ve never seen before. You don’t know how you got it, you’re scared that it’s there in the first place, anxious about what other people are going to think about it, it will never go away, and all you can do is take care of it and hope that it doesn’t get infected and fuck up everything else in your life. Depression can be immensely polarizing. I’ve heard a million and one people say that it gets better, but when your brain isn’t doing its job, it inadvertently convinces you that you are utterly and inconceivably alone. And it’s not a constant feeling either. It comes in waves, sometimes I can go for days without feeling like complete ass and sometimes I can go for days feeling like a dead slug. It’s not something you can predict. And it’s a difficult hole to try and dig yourself out of when you find yourself there. Now depression, just like people comes in all shapes and sizes. And most people’s experiences with it don’t mirror each other, and it’s that lack of sameness that breeds the loneliness that is so common in depressed people. I know all too well about that feeling of loneliness. I’m going to take you on a journey through what a bad day looks like for me, which will be really easy to do since I’m having a bad day today. When I wake up I don’t usually know right away that my brain has hit the off switch on functioning. The first indicator is this ever present feeling of heaviness. Like someone dipped my whole body in molasses. Getting out of bed is physically difficult and I don’t even want to. Because even something simple like walking is just fucking hard. My body aches and I feel like a zombie and in reality I probably look like one too. Next on the shit list is the mental fog. And it genuinely feels exactly like it sounds. I can’t think clearly or focus on things that aren’t generally mindless and easy. I isolate myself and even though I’m feeling lonely and sad, I don’t want to be around other people. And I have no desire to eat, I just lose my appetite all together.

           Anxiety does the same thing. I’ve been anxious, worried, and habitually stressed out for as long as I can remember. I’ve had teachers, friends, previous therapists, and even my parents call me a worrier. Which couldn’t be more accurate. I have a terrible habit of worrying about other people so much that I start to take on their problems. Stressing about my dad not having a girlfriend and hoping that he doesn’t end up dying alone. Worrying about my mom every time she gets sick, even if it’s just a cold. Taking on issues my friends are having with their families and trying to use my knowledge from many years of therapy to help them overcome their problems. Worrying and stressing that much can lead to panic. I remember the first time I had a panic attack, it was freshman year and I was in my 6th period Spanish class. Describing what a panic attack feels like is akin to trying to explain what the color red looks like. Especially because it’s subjective, no two people have the same experience. But because it’s important I’m going to do my best to explain. It feels like the world is crashing down on me for no particular reason. It’s terrifying. It legitimately feels like my skin is turning inside out. I get shaky, sweat like a whore in church, scared. It feels like I’m trapped in my own body and all I want to do is run away and hide. From myself. Panic attacks are something I still struggle with. They’ve decreased in prevalence since I found a medication regiment that works for me but even that doesn’t eradicate them completely. Most of the time I have no warning as to when one is going to happen. But there are some specific triggers, for example when I hear an unexpected loud bang or noise. I have PTSD and that sound sets off a fire in my brain that causes me to panic. Or when my stress level gets too high and I get overwhelmed. My mind doesn’t know whether to fight or flee so it gets stuck in the middle and I shut down. There is nothing that I know of that compares to that feeling. And when it’s over I’m left exhausted and weak. It fucking sucks. There’s no other way to say it. It fucking sucks.

           When I was first diagnosed, I was paralyzed at the thought of telling anyone that I have d&a (depression and anxiety, it’s getting annoying writing out the entire words). I was scared of being judged by my peers, and looked at like a freak, like I was different; even more different than I already felt. I didn’t want to get bitched at by everyone for being the emotionally broken girl, which is what I thought I was. I remember my first appointment with my psychiatrist, I was scared. I was adamant about not wanting to go on medication, but my parents thought otherwise. Which wasn’t a bad thing. In reality going on medication was the best thing that could have happened. Because I don’t know where I would be without it. I’ve had the discussion with multiple people about how I shouldn’t need to be on medication anymore. That I should be able to just learn how to deal with my depression and move on. But it isn’t that simple. Like I said before, depression is a chemical imbalance in the brain. The medication helps rebalance me. But it isn’t an exact science. Since 6th grade I have been on 8 different medications, some of which I still take. Why so many you ask? It comes back to it not being an exact science. Sometimes the medication will work for a while and then just stop. Which, speaking from personal experience, is a bitch and a half. It’s so aggravating when you can feel that something isn’t right but should be. That being said, finding the right medication, or medications in my case can be immensely helpful. I’ve gone from regular panic attacks and depression so bad that you can’t complete simple tasks to what I refer to as, being at ground zero. Ground zero is a great place to be, no extreme highs and the absolute lowest of lows. Just level. There is no joy in the world that can compare to finally feeling normal when you’re used to feeling like your emotions are exploding.  

           I have been really lucky to have a family who completely supports me and is always there when I need them. And they understand when I’m having a shitty day and what that means. I have been spectacularly lucky to have that. Others have not been so lucky. And that breaks my heart. Nobody deserves to be looked down upon for something that they can’t control. It’s like getting mad at someone for the color of their eyes. They didn’t choose the color, genetics gave them that color. So, who are we to judge them for that? This post is jam packed with facts and personal testimonials and if you gain anything at all from it, I hope you gain some understanding and empathy. That the next time you see someone on the street talking to themselves or one of your friends is really sad or stressed out for no obvious reason. Don’t judge. Try to understand. Try and wrap your mind around the concept that their brain is, for lack of a better phrase, rebelling against them. You don’t choose to have a mental illness, just like you don’t choose to have legs. It’s what life has bestowed upon you. So, I challenge you to try and change your frame of mind, you may find it enlightening.  

[pretty-volatile]

Journal entry

Thursday, June 6th, 2019 1:40am

So I realized I haven't really journaled in a hot minute and I'm trying to keep track of shit so I know what to bring up when I finally see the psychiatrist.

First of all, only 15 more days until my appointment. I'm still self medicating with weed, but my usage varies day to day. Some days I don't need to smoke AS much, some days I need a lot of help, some days I'm okay but I just want to have fun. My tolerance is higher so I can do daytime use without being affected really. I feel it helps with the anger episodes too. It used to teeter between being helpful/unhelpful for when I was feeling down. Sometimes it would make the overthinking worse because it'd be harder to pull myself out. Lately, I've been exploring my emotions more and being high just helps me open up but kind of numbs some of the pain I might experience. It's more of an emotional trip.

Second of all, I really fucked up this quarter. I'm a 4th year college student and I had already accepted that I need longer, but like. I am worried that I might get kicked out lol. I was Subject to Dismissal ever since I failed my entire Winter Quarter 2018. Oops. Then the next quarter I thought I was going to be able to pick shit back up but then I couldn't keep up so I dropped out of the quarter Week 10 (literally the last week of the quarter lolol). Ever since then I've been trying so damn hard to keep school up while my mental health just kept failing me. I'd start out new every new beginning of a quarter and then by Week 4 I'd start falling behind because I just didn't want to do anything. I couldn't. But then there was a time or two that I was able to pick my ass back up and got decent enough grades to go onto the next thing. This quarter started out pretty well. I was on top of shit til about Week 5 or 6 or something. But I fucking finally cracked this quarter. I had started to pick up on some of my habits, and then I looked up Borderline Personality Disorder and I just lost it. I opened the floodgates to some memories that I had forgotten about or blocked out. Everything started to connect and I started to experience trauma on top of present reality. It was TERRIBLE. Still is but like. It was just so overwhelming to recognize things I didn't even know I did or I didn't know that they weren't okay. Then I reached out to my therapist and I was like I think I have BPD. Of course she couldn't diagnose me because she's not a psychiatrist, but she has experience with supper groups for folx with BPD and she has experience with DBT. But she kept bringing up that she thought it was more likely that I have bipolar disorder. I was still set on BPD. Trying to think of all the symptoms that I experience and match with. I was obsessed with proving there was something wrong with me or that I needed help. Part of me was also thinking "There has to be something wrong because if not, then I really am just a piece of shit...." My insomnia has been pretty bad, which the only thing that helps is...you guessed it!....weed. which sometimes it fed into it too so I'd have to smoke so much that I didn't know what the fuck I was doing. I started to accept the possibility of bipolar disorder too and I was trying to pay attention to my mood(s) more too. Since I was aware of the symptoms of BPD and then later on bipolar, I was starting to pick up when a change was starting to happen so I could warn my partner. At one point my mood was like I was starting over again every single day. It'd start out moderately good and then by the end of the night I'd be breaking down crying about how I didn't want to go to bed just to start the whole day over again. During that time it was EXTREMELY hard to pull myself out of my depression/emptiness. Then once that nightmare stopped my mood switched to being hypomanic for about 6 days. Then right when I needed to get my shit together for school, I started to fall again. At first it was a numb "I don't want to do anything, life is dull, what's the point, fuck it". Then I just became really really sad overall. I didn't want to get out of bed or do chores. I didn't go to class. It was just TOO MUCH but like it made me feel like shit because I knew I needed to go.

Oh and all while I was experiencing most of this, my therapist has been away on medical leave since May 17th and the last time that I actually talked to her was yesterday (6/5 @ 1pm) but it was just for a brief 20 minute call. But we'll be able to pick things right back up when she gets back. I only have to wait 11 more days, so that's good.

Oh and my like impulsive behaviors/reckless shit (for me) was like spending money on food outside of groceries way more than I should have....I got a really bad case of the fuck its and I couldn't really say no because if I didn't buy snacks and food that we didn't have to make we wouldn't have eaten (we as in my partner & I) because of my lack of motivation and energy to do anything at all. I got to use my eating disorder as an excuse to feed into my impulses, oops. Oh and of course I'm addicted to smoking cigarettes and like I smoke weed all the fucking time so I guess those could be some other "reckless" behaviors :P I don't really drink much because of my mother's alcoholism and PTSD. I've had tendencies in the past and when I turned 21 I had a bit of a freak out, but now I'm just like. I'll drink if everyone else is too or if it's for a show or if I just wanted some tall can of yummy stuff at home. Otherwise I REALLY prefer being stoned. It lasts longer. There's not really any PTSD associated with it, debatable but still. It helps me get over the anxiety of dealing with people or strangers specifically. Unfamiliar places with a shit ton of people are definitely a trigger for some panic episode or anger episode. I'll turn into a sour bitch for no reason other than that all the people freaked me out that much. I'm very much like I want a whole separate world for my partner & I and our friends so that we don't have to deal with shitty or creepy people....I like people once I get to know them and stuff but otherwise I'm just like SocIalIZing? Psssh ha...no. That also made it difficult to go to class because I got antisocial as fuck. I LOVE going for walks and doing errands while stoned and listening to music, but like...interacting with people? Having attention drawn onto me? Nooooooo thanx.

Finding out the BPD stuff though weirdly helped me to start talking to other humans again? Kind of? I mean it was mostly me like venting or whatever but I was actually talking to people? (Via messaging mostly) lololol the funniest thing is that a fp was the reason I even looked up BPD. I developed a "crush" first and then later I looked up BPD because I was like ya know... I wanna know. I looked it up once before because there was a time that we thought my mom had BPD. Come to find out, she had bipolar instead. But I remember the first time I looked it up I was like "ha! Some of these symptoms/signs are personally calling me out" but I was mostly looking at it to understand my mom so I wasn't really thinking about myself that much. Plus when I looked it up first, I was still disassociating pretty bad that I wasn't entirely aware of what I was doing or how I was feeling. But when I looked it up the second time... literally EVERYTHING or just about everything that was coming up was exactly how I was feeling or how I have felt in the past. Then I found out about the Favorite Person thing and I was like oof, that's some...that's some shit right there. I still have to sort out what relationships/crushes were actually crushes or just a fp thing that eventually faded away into me not talking to them anymore. That was really fun to admit to my fp that they were the reason I looked up BPD. Lol but we did have a good conversation and like I tried to talk to other people that either understood second hand or first hand. Another person I talked to has BPD, and the other already has mental health issues and his fiance has BPD (so they both understand). Found I am/was an fp to another person that I apparently inspired him to finally go get the help he needs, but like he just had to fuck it up recently by bringing up a touchy subject. I can only imagine how angry or upset he is with me for not responding, which is also why I don't want to answer because I'm too scared with that kind of pressure of being someone's fp 😭😓🙈🙊 sorry bud....just had to bring up something that happened to be a touchy topic 😅

Lately I've really been trying to use music to get me through shit again. Back in high school all I would do at home was stay up, listen to music, draw, write poetry, watch movies, stay up on my phone or laptop. And I was creative as fuck! I've been trying to listen to old music, which also helped me realized just how much help I need(ed) because of how much I would relate to this music and this music was like really deep and really...just it was concerning that is as so young and connecting with what these adults are singing about. It also helped unlock memories. unlocked old feelings. Lots of drifting. But now my music listening is a little more controlled and I used to go on these emotional trips full of memories and just letting myself get swept off into it. I probably can only do this successfully since I eventually said fuck it to the rest of this quarter. (I saved one class but uh unless my professors can make my BPD/bipolar go away then there's nothing we can do.) But like the emotional trips have been really therapeutic for me honestly. Sometimes I feel a little "aw fuck that's all I did today, oops". But other than that it's been helpful. I was also able to draw! I've done like 3 drawings within the like past week ish. Which is more than I thought I'd be able to do. For the longest time I was so blocked off from my emotions and thoughts, I'd feel like drawing but once I sat down it was hard to start it or finish it. Or I'd be able to do like 1 good one every few months. Back in high school I was constantly drawing and even into the beginning of college, but once I started disassociating it was like bye bye creative motivation. Obviously I don't want to take advantage of this burst of creative motivation but like it feels REALLY good. I eventually want to get back into poetry too. I'm actually an art hoe, but when I disassociated I like had no drive to document anything nor the mental capacity/awareness to connect the dots. Which really cramped on me being artsy because my whole art experience is fluid, just let it take me where I need to go. I did some poetry within the last year though. Mainly relating to addiction/alcoholism/insomnia. I'm very much an emotional set type person. It's almost always centered around a feeling or situation that invokes feelings/thoughts.

Okay that's even impressive that I got this much of journaling done, but I think I should stop now. This is long enough and now my thoughts are just kinda scattered and I'm too tired to keep coming back to any points I'm making. This was meant to just be a check in but it turned into like a full on documentation of how I've been feeling or whatever. Whew exhausted. Maybe I'll jot shit down again later after I reread my post later. Goodnight for now ✌