#well when. taking the Symptom List. very literally. ahem

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

having even more Realisations tonight. these ones are helpful rather than uncomfortable though. they do however raise the question of "how could i be this oblivious i was such an idiot"

[kidical]

anyway today is a slenderman stabbing case rant day. they do talk about the creepypastas as if they're real people TO AN EXTENT which is NOT!! A SIGN OF PSYCHOSIS THEY WERE LITERALLY 11-12!!! and the only character they talk about as if they genuinely believe are real are 1. jeff the killer (citing fake news articles ((reports mentioned in the og story)) and a piece of fanart that has a realistic drawing of jeff on a missing persons poster as proof hes real, but later saying they don't believe hes actually real anymore) and 2. slenderman (but not in the way they portrayed i don't believe they're at all scared of the concept bc they're literally trying to become "proxies" for him but they put on the facade that they're scared he'll kill their families for a lesser sentence which iirc did not work. so they did believe he was real but only in the hopeful way where they REAALLY wanted him to take them in as proxies in the epic slendermansion) but again this isn't a symptom of illness. i as an 11 year old creepypasta fan was scared to walk home in the dark because i thought jeff the killer would kill me 🙁 doesnt mean i was schizophrenic it's part of being a kid and having hyper belief in anything and everything which is another oopsie on behalf of criminal psychologists because a CLINICAL psychologist would take into account their age and differentiate from delusions caused by mental illness vs beliefs they have due to age (morgan geyser was a difficult case due to history of actual delusions and a father who had delusions of things like unicorns being real and signs from demons and things like that and so on, but morgan geyser is still different because what C.Ps diagnosed as her "delusions" were her also thinking unicorns, harry potter, slenderman and jeff the killer among other things were real which again a clinical psychologist would look at very critically and take note of the fact that these cannot be noted as delusions because of her age and thus delusions would have to be excluded off of the list of means that could be used to diagnose her which criminal psychs obviously do not know to do). it could very well be that morgan geyser is schizophrenic given that her father has a history of delusions well into his adult life, but the way they analyzed morgan and the things they used to justify the diagnosis were by no means professional or responsible because you have to be INSANELY careful diagnosing minors with schizophrenia ESPECIALLY under the age of 13 - which both of them were and its incredibly insanely rare for children under 13 to be diagnosed with schizophrenia or psychosis in clinical psychology the field trained to literally detect and diagnose illnesses at any age but somehow not so rare among criminal psychologists the field not devoted to diagnosing illnesses especially at young ages given how rare it is for children to be prosecuted for crimes because criminal psychologists ARENT CONCERNED WITH MENTAL HEALTH BUT RATHER THE CRIME!!! (and i'm not using that point as criticism criminal psychology is MADE to focus on crime but it's when they start to pretend they're something they're not.. ahem... clinical psychologists... where this becomes a mess.) aside from "delusions", the other things they used to diagnose morgan geyser with schizophrenia were as follow:

- hearing voices (plausible + her mother testified, but still not enough bc they didn't ask anyone But her mother if morgan heard voices and obviously her mother is going to do anything to protect her daughter so of course she'd be willing to lie about this)

- reported lack of empathy (THE EXAMPLE BROUGHT UP IN COURT: instead of crying when bambis mother died as a kid, she yelled "run bambi, save yourself!".. obviously not a good way to diagnose schizophrenia, nor is this a symptom of it)

- delusions (slenderman, harry potter and jeff the killer are real.. but in her interrogation she said she didnt believe in slenderman nor jeff and that it was actually her friend anissa who believed in them - and wasn't asked about harry potter)

- hallucinations (claimed to see slenderman but literally what 10 year old doesnt claim to see things that aren't there bruh i thought i saw santa when i was 11 and i was convinced of this)

- abnormal motor behavior (she exhibits this, rocking back and forth, flapping her hands and arms, snapping at the detective for asking the same questions, removing her fries from the box and placing them on the table and then eating them one at a time off of the table, pulling her arms into her sweater, dancing and swaying when left alone which is normal for children, ducking her head with bad posture, lack of eye contact when spoken to, tearing a hole into her sock while being questioned, etc etc. note that this is substantial evidence for this claim BUT... this is also a huge indicator of autism. not just schizophrenia.)

- recreating the slenderman pages in her notebook, the ones with crude scribbled drawings of slenderman and words like "NO ESCAPE", "RUN AWAY", "HE COMFORTS ME", "HELP ME" and more on them. the investigators do not know shes recreating the infamous pages in the game and rather think this is her expressing her thoughts and monsters she sees

- looking up and taking quotev quizzes that have titles along the lines of "what type of insane am i" as well as other murder and creepypasta related quizzes. quotev. the site you see "WHOS MY CREEPYPASTA BOYFRIEND?" quizzes. yeah. that was used to diagnose her with schizophrenia yall!

- looking up "slenderman cute". no really. that for real was used as well!

- other drawings in her notebook which include but are not limited to: her creepypasta ocs, kitty and i think one was named dolly or something, a drawing of her creepypasta oc going "I LOVE KILLING PEOPLE", a drawing of jeff the killer, a drawing of jeff the killer lunging into slender man's arms with slenderman blushing and emitting a heart in a thought bubble and jeff sweating anime style like hes scared of something as well as a drawing of slenderman carrying various creepypastas with his tendrils including ticci toby going "hey masky hey masky hey masky" and "waffles"

ill let you decide for yourself whether this is a legitimate way of conducting research on whether or not a murderous 12 year old girl is mentally ill with schizophrenia

[gay-otlc]

Oneat Cperson Disorder

Obviously everyone with OCD is super neat. They probably have great handwriting and a perfectly organized room, and they’re qUiRkY because they don’t like asymmetrical things, all that shit. That’s what OCD stands for! Oneat Cperson Disorder!

Wait... OCD isn’t Neat Person Disorder?

Then what is it?

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. That’s the real acronym. It’s not Neat Person Disorder, it’s not a synonym for organized. It’s a shitty disorder characterized by obsessions and compulsions. A major symptom is intrusive thoughts.

This is what OCD actually is.

(Warning: Unneccessarily long. You have been warned.)

Intrusive thoughts

Almost everyone gets intrusive thoughts. That’s not an OCD specific thing. 

The way my therapist explained it was that the brain is like an email inbox, and thoughts are like emails. Some thoughts are marked as important, such as things like I need a drink of water. This is important to survivial and should be prioritized. Some thoughts just go in the general inbox, like That person over there is tall. It might be relevant to whatever’s going on at the moment, but is generally not that important. Some thoughts are spam, like I should hurt someone I care about. It’s not born out of any desire, it’s just random, and it’s completely unimportant.

A non-OCD person would mark the spam emails as spam. An OCD person would mark them as important.

And the type of spam emails that gets marked as important goes with the subtype of OCD. So, someone with harm OCD (me, it’s me, hi) could get the thought Overdose on these painkillers. Someone with contamination OCD could get the thought I touched this surface and now my hand is covered in germs.

Conclusion: Intrusive thoughts would be fine if my fucking spam filter worked. Stupid brain. 

Obsessions

After marking the intrusive thought as important, the brain will consider it to be... well... important. It isn’t, but hey, the brain doesn’t know that. It just knows that it was marked as important, so it should definitely think about this email.

And think about the email.

And think about the email.

And be literally unable to stop thinking about the email.

And become completely and utterly obsessed with the email until it matters more than a lot of the actually important thoughts.

Thanks a lot, brain. 

This is the obsession!

Since the brain only marked an intrusive thought as important because it was distressing, thinking about the intrusive thought will obviously cause more distress. OCD is an anxiety disorder, and the obsessions make you... take a wild guess... anxious!

An obsession will spiral until it creates a worst case scenario, usually taking place in a “what if” form.

So after I get the thought about overdosing, the next thing I think will be Oh fuckity fuck fuck fuck fuck, what if I overdose on these painkillers? I don’t want to, but I’m worried I’ll lose control and impulsively do it. This is hilarious, because I am an extremely not-impulsive person, but the OCD brain thinks in absolutes.

It wants solid, 100% confirmation that I will not commit suicide. And no matter how unlikely it seems that I will, having 100% certainty that I won’t is impossible. And my OCD brain apparently doesn’t understand probability and thinks that P(not overdosing) =/= 100% means P(overdosing) is extremely likely.

This might also be accompanied by fun other distrubing thoughts that explore this worst case scenario in more detail, such as my family finding my dead body, my friends being told I’m dead, people attending my funeral, etc.

A person who thought I touched this contaminated surface might go on to think Oh no, what if I now have this disease and get sick and die? That might be accompanied by going to the hospital, having surgeries and shit, also the funeral, etc.

The “what if” question is very distressing, And because it’s an obsession, you can’t stop thinking about it.

Conclusion: My brain should be able to stop thinking about things. Stupid brain.

Compulsions.

That obsession from before was fuckin’ scary, right? It’s all worst case scenario shit. We don’t want that happening. 

So, what do we do?

Prevent it from happening! Seems logical, right?

Except. Except this is absolutely, 100% the wrong thing to do. It perpetuates the idea that intrusive thoughts are Big Scary ™ and creates a vicious cycle until preventing the worst case scenario from happening completely consumes our lives. 

Compulsion is any sort of preventative measure.

When I have thoughts like overdose on these painkillers, there are a lot of things I really shouldn’t do except always do. I could list reasons to live (The problem with this is that I don’t want to die, and treating it like I do adds on to the idea that this is a genuine risk. People who are suicidal for real absolutely should think about reasons to live.) I could google “signs of suicidal people” until I’m confident that I don’t fit enough of those signs. I could completely avoid painkillers at all whatsoever until I’m in too much pain to do schoolwork I really need to do and then upon trying to take a painkiller I have a panic attack I mean haha what that definitely wouldn’t ever happen-

If someone has the thought I touched this contaminated surface and is now worried about getting sick and dying, what could they do? They could wash their hands, which is a big one associated with OCD. They could check symptoms of whatever disease they’re worried about until they’re sure they don’t have it. If a fever is something they’re worried about, they could check their temperature and then check it again because they don’t believe the first non-feverish number I mean haha I’ve never done this one either really what is it with these examples? So random, definitely not based in real life...

Ahem.

All of these measures are taken to prevent something that there isn’t a risk of, are make me more scared of something I don’t actually have to be scared of, and make me more reliant on these habits to the point where it interferes with my functioning; for example, if I’m scared of painkillers now, I’ll be in more pain and that will make it harder to do things. 

Conclusion: Just because compulsions give me immediate relief from anxiety, doesn’t mean they aren’t bad in the long run, and doing them is also bad. Stupid brain.

Ending Statements And Stuff:

So, can people with OCD be neat? Well, I’m convinced neat people are a myth, but I guess they can be. But can people with OCD also be disorganized? Fuck yeah, I’m here, aren’t I?

OCD stands for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. It is not Oneat Cperson Disorder, and please do not treat it as such. That can be harmful to disorganized people with OCD like me, who think “I can’t possibly be OCD! My room is a mess!” and then just... not get help for so long. 

It’s also just... like... wrong? It’s factually incorrect to say OCD is a synonym for neat and that alone should be a good enough reason for you to not say it. 

Don’t say things like “I’m so OCD!” because you don’t like it when something is crooked or any thoughts I have about harming you will be completely intentional.

Also, I think we can conclude that Shai’s brain is fucking stupid.

[saturninebravery]

;

*cracks knuckles* alright, let’s get some thoughts down. and remember kids, saturn is not trying to start shit. saturn does not care for flame wars. bye

PRISONER OF AZKABAN VS SEVERUS SNAPE: a reflection you never asked for.

PART 1 of TBC

introduction:

snerp is a piece of shit.

okay but the books are written to be narrated from harry’s point of view (for the most anyway). so it stands to reason that severus snape is an unredeemable greasy git of a bully who does nothing but make harry’s life hell (amongst others). doesn’t help that he shows no emotion by way of occluding and is by far the hardest character to read. he also is prone to saying angry shit he doesn’t always mean (ahem mudblood?) this means we are taking his words and behaviours at face value. which is why the prince’s tale is one of the most heart-wrenching, finest plot twist chapters i’ve seen in a long time. it is arguably the biggest reveal in the deathly hallows instalment, let alone the entire saga. who’d have thought snerp to be anything other than the secretive bastard murdering death eater he’d played the part of so well? anyway i’m getting ahead of myself. point is, through a clever literary device we are only given snippets of this character through hostile eyes - mostly people he’s antagonised, until we finally see the story through his own eyes, and it changes E  V E R Y T H I N G. 

disclaimer: this is my interpretation (and how i weave it into my main verse narrative)

1. Why does Snape hate Sirius? oh boi. they go way back. snerp believes that (this is a non exhaustive list):

- sirius trash talks slytherin house during their first meeting - sirius is part of a popular clique: is arrogant, good looking and everything snape isn’t. his antipathy with sirius is unfounded, is skin deep and visceral. - sirius seems to enjoy bullying snape for entertainment (and it would seem that james did so also to amuse sirius) - sirius tried to kill him back in the summer of 1958 saturn this is not a stephen king novel -as a result of that ‘prank’ he now owes a debt to james fucking potter which he certainly isn’t pleased about - sirius betrayed the potters which led to their deaths and killed peter pettigrew - sirius broke out of azkaban to seek revenge on harry for the dark lord’s demise - the blacks are well known for pure blood fanaticism and obsessive loyalty - after witnessing his capability for murder, snape didn’t seem to think that sirius becoming a death eater like bellatrix and regulus was too far fetched - he overhears him boasting about the prank in the shack. as far as he’s concerned he’s a gloating killer

2. Why did he leave the Wolfsbane potion in Lupin’s office? premise: he was sure to see lupin there, so obviously that must have jump started his heart into a frenzy - ‘where the fuck is he, he is supposed to be taking this at this precise time’ etc. we don’t know the particulars of the wolfsbane ie if it needs to be drunk at a specific time, if it can be put in specific containers, ect.

1. lupin is not there when he SHOULD be as he needs to take the potion before he goes on a murdering rampage in a school 2. he’s clearly left in a hurry (ie something very important) to which snape jumps to the conclusion he’s been suspecting all year: the time has come for lupin to let mass murderer sirius black in 3. his suspicions are raised alarmingly when he sees the map lupin has left out. does he trust a random magical artefact he has no time to study? probably not. is he going to take the risk considering there is no time, he’s already paranoid and all he lives for is saving harry potter’s life? h e l l  y e s.  4. he panics. he leaves in a rush and forgets. unlikely snape behaviour? we know he’s a man with a plan and takes calculated risks UNLESS it involves harry directly. then caution is thrown to the wind and he r u n s. 5. OR if he hasn’t forgotten like a dunderhead, there is no time left. either the wolfsbane might be ineffective if removed/carried out/drank at a different time or it’s just too long a way to the shack: sirius could already be doing murdery things to the trio, children are in mortal danger, lupin could be transforming any moment - does he really have time to scoop that shit up in a container, or go back for it provided that he’s momentarily forgotten?

3. Why did Snape react angrily and irrationally? erm. he is trapped at the end of a tunnel - down memory lane - in front of a mass murderer and a werewolf about to transform. double the trouble he once almost died to, and he has to face this shit again because there is NO ONE ELSE. he fears for his life and three kids to top it off, one of which he has sworn to protect. so he is doubly scared - triggered by the memory, and by the fact that he is about to lose harry and fail his only reason for living. by black’s hand. AGAIN. he overhears sirius talk about the prank (strike one), sees ron with a broken leg (strike two), and when he reveals himself sirius taunts him (joke’s on you again) and remus calls him a fool (strike three). rage and terror work a charm on him. he’s not going to take their word for it. he doesn’t know about them being animagi and so spinning a story of how peter was a DEATH EATER (of all things?) has been living as a rat in the weasley household for the last 13 years seems as likely as his happy ending. snape is a close minded misanthrope. he does not take a step back, he does not listen.

and then he gets c o n c u s s e d. he literally bleeds from his head. obviously later he’s going to act frantic, mad with rage and utterly irrational (and out of character for him) which is in line with some of the symptoms of concussion.

shit went down really badly and really fast, and this probably ranks very high in the worst nights of his life. 

conclusion: is it personal? to a point. he barrelled into a known danger out of fear for the children’s life, but also a rush of adrenaline in knowing he was R I G H T all along, his instincts had not betrayed him. so he’d want to rub it in everyone’s face (ESPECIALLY Dumbledore), save the trio, get revenge for lily’s betrayal by delivering the pair of traitors to the dementors (which he believed was the apt punishment for their infamy) and get a well deserved order of merlin. recognition does not come by severus snape’s path often. or ever. he lives in the shadows, serving two masters in deceit. he will never get a chance to see his name restored or his talent extolled. he’s always the greasy git with the shady reputation. so excuse u for being fucking miffed at losing the one chance of being rewarded.

epilogue:  is clear in the later books that snape has eventually come to accept sirius’ innocence and loyalty to the order, although he still hates his guts and he makes no secret of that. while it may be viewed as a ploy to get him riled up, he does seem to try get him to stay away from the Ministry at the end of OotP (perhaps to protect him from harry’s vision coming true). he also warns dumbledore and gives fake veritaserum to umbridge so that harry won’t spill the truth.

[childofaura]

Okay, I’m still trying to sort through all the responses on both posts. Just like with the other person, I’ll address your points as best as I can under a “read more”.

I will state this immediately: My original posts DID NOT properly elaborate on my actual position because I worded it poorly, being that my original position was “Azula cannot have a successful redemption the way Zuko did, because the writers gave her such a strictly fleshed out character that any kind of redemption arc performed while taking every part of her canon into account would feel janky and unnatural.” I didn’t mean to word it as “Azula is a psychopath and therefore she cannot be redeemed”. On that, yes I’m sorry. Now I’ll address everything else underneath as further analysis on Azula’s character.

> ”psychopaths display all of those traits, yes, but they also tend to display impulsivity. it’s a hallmark of psychopathy. azula doesn’t display impulsivity. her actions are precise and calculated, and thought through.”

Azula’s a tactical genius, undeniably, but she STILL has impulsive outbursts. Her first instinct when Ty Lee was excited that boys were paying attention to her was to lash out and and insult her. When Ozai told her she wouldn’t be invading the Earth Kingdom, she explodes at him and says he’s treating her like Zuko (which she considers an insult).

>“besides, azula doesn’t really display much egotism? anything that can be attributed as egotism when talking about her usually comes from outside sources, mostly from ty lee. literally all she does is accept it, and it’s not even like she asked for it.”

The way Azula carries herself constantly showcases how she sees everyone else as beneath her. When Long Feng admitted defeat, she insults him by saying he was never even considered a viable threat to her. Regardless of where the praise comes from, her personality still displays her as a narcissist who is very hardly capable of being humble unless it’s for manipulation or personal gain.

>”also? low empathy is a hallmark of autism, and many other traits she shows prove that she could be neurodivergent in some way (socially awkward, persistent obsessive interest (that being war), etc. all of this is in the beach episode btw). you attributing that to psychopathy and psychopathy exclusively? ahem, YIKES.”

I didn’t attribute low empathy exclusively to psychopathy. My post detailed every aspect that was listed for psychopathy in the official definition, and low empathy was one of them. Please don’t take what I said out of context.

>”also, the point about her wanting to kill a servant for leaving a pit in her cherry? uh…when did she say she wanted to kill the servant? i legitimately dont remember her saying she wanted to kill her. this is literally all during her psychotic episode btw, where she shows MANY symptoms of a psychotic disorder. you attributing that to psychopathy is, yet again, ableist.”

During her coronation day preparation, she threatens the servant girl by saying “then you understand the severity of your crime” after the girl says Azula could have choked on the cherry pit. Her reaction to the girl asking for forgiveness is showing mercy by “banishment”. The original crime would have been death. You keep saying I’m trying to specifically assign small specific moments of her lowest point with psychopathy, when I tried to explain throughout her character arc she’s shown to behave like that, even during her peaks.

> ”her manipulative tendencies came from ozai, by the way!! he did that shit to her first. he deliberately groomed her into becoming a war machine. i was groomed as well, so i think i should know this??? it’s all so fucking obvious did you even watch the same show. is every copy of atla personalised or am i just losing my mind.”

 And I never said that they didn’t come from him, and I’ve specifically mentioned in my original post that Azula was groomed and manipulated by Ozai. I never denied that. Years ago when I commented on Erhasz’s declaration that Azula was gonna have a redemption arc, I specifically mentioned that Azula was just as much a victim of psychological abuse as Zuko and a lot of people at the time forgot about that.

To address everything overall, absolutely NO WHERE was I demonizing psychopathy as a whole. I was talking about a FICTIONAL CHARACTER; my views and standards for fictional characters is NOT the same as they are for real people. Coming onto my post and calling me ableist while A) not observing Azula’s character personality B) Not knowing what me or my family’s mental health history is, as someone personally with a disorder and someone whose family suffers from issues ranging from alcoholism, PTSD, and schizophrenia, and judging me for my analysis of fiction, is very hostile.

What you went through wasn’t deserved at all, and I hope you defy your abuser by living, growing, and thriving because fuck whoever hurt you. But you don’t get to judge who I am based on how I analyze a character who doesn’t exist. You don’t know me just as much as I don’t know you.

Edit: Forgot to mention, I’m absolutely all ears if you want to tell me what a more accurate mental diagnosis would be for Azula.

Azula's a 14 year old in need of therapy, people saying a child soldier is too far gone to get help is one of the real world reasons that child soldiers, especially girls, have dreadfully low rehabilitation rates, and can you not use psychopath when you obviously don't even know what that means.

I’m gonna apologize for coming off as rude, anon, but let me state this:

Me stating that a fictional character is written in a way that doesn’t allow for her to have much in the way of a successful redemption arc, that doesn’t feel incredibly janky and helter-skelter, has absolutely NO correlation to how I would feel about a real-life situation, and that’s not even what I was talking about in my post. I didn’t bring up real life child soldiers AT ALL.

>“and can you not use psychopath when you obviously don’t even know what that means”.

“Psychopathy, sometimes considered synonymous with sociopathy, is traditionally a personality disorder characterized by persistent anti-social behavior, impaired empathy and remorse, and bold, disinhibited, and egotistical traits.”

Tell me exactly where I used that in the wrong context, because I used that word KNOWING what it means. Azula is ALL of those things. She has impaired empathy and remorse (She doesn’t care that she constantly puts her “friends” Mai and Ty Lee in danger, or that she manipulates Zuko’s crippling need for his father’s approval, or that she hurts people to get what she wants. SHE WANTED TO KILL A SERVANT FOR NOT DE-PITTING THE CHERRIES SHE WAS EATING FOR FUCK’S SAKE), she narcissistically prides herself in being able to manipulate people and being the crown princess of the Fire Nation and didn’t get why some beach boy didn’t think she was the total catch she thought she was, she willingly puts her own life in danger all to please her father (bold and disinhibited), and drives everyone away either purposely or non-purposely.

Azula is a psychopath whose character doesn’t allow for a successful redemption arc the way Zuko’s did.

[aquarianlights]

Hey Killian, it’s been a good minute huh? That one strangers back from a long stay in an institution. I’m sorry for not being around to give you the kind words I wanted to. You’re a beautiful man my dear. I love that you can go into long flowing monologues over the littlest things. The way you put words together is unlike anybody I’ve met before. Keep being you, my dear Killian. You’re stronger than you know and I believe you can be anything you want. You can do it!

It’s okay. You need to take care of yourself, too, okay? I’m going through a major, major rough patch in my life and honestly the only place I can vent is on a completely anonymous site where no one can find me. It’s the one and only place I keep anonymity. Which is very weird. I mean, I’m transparent about who I am and everything but the site is so... small and unknown that no one would ever trace me back to anything like the normal social media sites. It’s unreal. I’ve used it a lot in the past, but I was never really, er... anonymous on it. I stretch the truth a bit on there to make me feel more comfortable. Nothing about my life. Everything about my life on there is true. More-so facts about me. For instance, I don’t disclose my transgender status and pass myself off as cisgender very blatantly. Little things about myself like that that would make a reader NOT connect it to ME. Lies about Killian not being my first name. Lies about my initials. As my initials are KQR. Stuff like that so if someone WERE to find me outside of that site, they wouldn’t so much be able to connect the dots unless they were to find this answer right here, which is highly unlikely. But honestly... if it does come to light, I wouldn’t be that upset about it. Because the lies aren’t big and it’s not like I’m forming friendships or bonds with anyone there. And no one looks up to me or forms bonds with me like they do on social media. It’s more of a ....follow my journal entries and send me messages if you want. I can make certain entries private if I want. Blah blah blah. Like. I don’t make anything private, obviously. Anyone who knows me would know that. In fact, anyone who knew me WAY back in the day would actually know what site I’m talking about and yes, if you’re one of those people and you’re thinking about a certain site that I used to be very popular on a long time ago anonymously in the top most popular diaries/journals section for... gosh, months, years? I don’t even know. But if you’re thinking of it, you’re right and yes I’m back there and yes feel free to go find me. I’m p easy to find if you know what to look for. My entries are all true to my life so if you know what site I’m talking about, then you’d be p intimately involved in my life in some way (or... a stalker of some sort LOL) so you’d instantly be able to read even ONE of my entries and know it was mine either from my writing style or from the content of my life that I write about.

I mean, I’m definitely not suppressing emotions like I used to. That’s stupid and immature and the most childish thing anyone can do. Like, no, I’m not a fucking teenager. I’m 26. I’m not suppressing anything. I express my emotions freely and let them flow however and whenever I want or need them to in whatever way I desire wherever I desire. But it’s also nice to have a place where I can be completely anonymous to every single goddamn person on that site and just... be able to vent nonstop and not bother anyone because of my chronic pain issues and the psych issues that come with having severe chronic pain and the stress that goes along with my life and my majors in my two schools. It’s ridiculous.

I don’t know if it’s been scientifically proven that bitching and whining and being loud and noisy about your issues when they’re severe and interfering with your daily life can help... but it has ALWAYS helped me. ESPECIALLY when they’re physical. I feel like that’d be a neuroscientific view of triggering the active distraction mode versus the passive distraction mode in your brain when you literally cannot do anything because of the physical pain and there are no pills or IM or IV meds to help anymore and all the physical therapy, electrode therapy, gels, creams, patches, and anything else will not help. The only thing left is a neurologist... and for that, I have to wait for my insurance to transfer. Sigh. LONG fucking wait and who knows if it even will, tbh. Fuck the government. Fuck america.

Anyways... I’m just having a really rough time because that’s the biggest issue right now and that’s just overshadowing all the other “major” issues which would be like... the major issues in a normal person’s life that would p much shut down even the most neurotypical of people, but I seem to be handling it like a boss. So idk. I’m a fucking demi-god, though, so that’s why probably. Pfft.

I cannot even BEGIN to list the amount of adulting things I am doing on the daily that people are not even slightly seeing because it’s all overshadowed by the fact I need really long breaks and need to be laying down a lot because of the fact I now have the prodromal symptoms to scoliosis and need an MRI stat. So that would just be fucking FANTASTIC to add on top of fibro and ehlers danlos. Fucking shoot me, tbh. I’d take death over this chronic pain any day. ANY DAY.

The pain is so bad that I’d take all the years of suicidal MDD where I was attempting suicide every other day and slicing myself to shreds all the time, barely existing as just a pile of apathy and lethargy, unable to even function as a normal human being coz I was too busy trying to die all the time and fighting with all the people who were forcing me to stay alive.

I literally stabbed myself with a pen just to try to take my mind off of chronic pain and see if acute pain would make it better. Wanted to stab myself with a steak knife but couldn’t do it... coz my A&P classes have me freaked out I might hit something... ugh. And I begged my roommates to hit me over the head with heavy objects or punch me as hard as they could in the temple or strangle me or rip a chunk of my hair out or stab me for me or ANYTHING that would cause major acute injury/pain. They wouldn’t do it. And the pen stab felt like a mosquito bite for about 2 seconds. And all my very serious migraines that impair me to the point of being unable to function at all just feel like pressure now. My joint and muscle pain from fibro and ehlers danlos... are practically gone because of how bad my spinal pain is. And when they examined it, sure enough, ligaments were out of place and either popped out or inflamed...very badly. And the lumbar region ... that part of the spine was just... too far down. It was reaching way too far down into me and sharply pressing onto or into something. And it’s twisted. The wrong way. And it’s fucking agonizing. Thank fuck the doctor was like “Jesus christ, fuck the opioid epidemic... you need this.” Because everything I have been using---voltaren gel, tens machine electrode therapy, lidocaine patches, oral nsaids at the maximum dosage, tylenol at the maximum dosage switched every two days with nsaids, lyrica, physical therapy, valium, who knows what else at this point---hasn’t done a single thing and it is only getting worse and worse every single day. And it’s getting to the point where my gait and my speech and my gestures and my vision and my concentration are..... gone, so to speak. And I’m experiencing the worst sense of vertigo ever and I’ve almost blacked out so many times that it’s terrifying because I have to lay on the nearest object---NOT lean, but LAY. The floor, a bed, a table, a chair.. LAY down on it. Otherwise, I would black out. And I have absolutely NO idea why.

A neurologist is my last and final hope... coz I’ve seen every single other fucking major specialist, barring a chiropractor which is a LAST resort option. If anyone is medical... you’ll all know why and I know you’re all snickering and nodding along with me.

ANYWAYS

Life is fucking painful and I am playing Dark Souls on nightmare mode. I thought living with crippling suicidal depression and a ton of psychotic disorders was daunting and impossible to live with. HAHA. Fucking hell, man. I look back at all those years and fucking LAUGH thinking about it compared to the pain I feel right now. NOTHING compares to it and I would take it all back and get off my medications if someone would just take all of this pain and these physical issues away. For fucks sake. ...thought it was impossible to live with... thought it was the worst thing in the world... I was such a child. Lmao.

So..... that’s the major thing that’s overshadowing everything else that would break a normal, neurotypical person and would probably break neurodivergents just thinking about it, nevertheless doing it, so idk how the fuck I’m functioning. I really don’t know. Here I am at 6am writing this reply because the pain is always too intense to sleep with. Even with these pain killers. Sigh. Fuck this.

Ahem... Rant over. I really go on rants about the most random of things. Jeeze. But that’s why I love myself. And why a lot of people love me. Or hate me. Either or. Doesn’t matter which. Haha.

But I really hope you were put on the “good” side and not the “bad” side or the “bad” building so that you don’t have ward induced PTSD or came out worse than going in. I’ve never been on the good side, but everyone who has are the people who are always the ones who are the ones saying “No omg wards saved my life and they are great whine whine wards are amazing and I’m gonna voluntarily commit myself every time I’m feeling anxious now hahah they’re so good for the soul!” and stupid stuff like that. Maybe not to that extreme NORMALLY, but I damn well HAVE seen it to that extreme quite a few times and dear god it’s annoying because they are the ones who are set in their ways and won’t listen because they’ve been in wards so, obviously, there’s no such thing as a “bad” side or they would know. So they call to find out or ask at their next voluntary admission and see if there’s such a thing and when they get the answer of “no” on the good side, they come back adamant that there’s no such thing because they don’t know how that works, how the laws work, and what the entire purpose of the “good” versus “bad” sides are and how they came about in an historical context and they don’t even bother to listen attentively for the slight codes over the speakers or the hushed phone calls to and from each side. Or, if they’re lucky, it’s COMPLETELY out of sight and out of mind because it’ll be a completely different building instead of a different floor or different wing. And then they get REALLYYYYYYYYYYY set in their fucking ways. In that case, it’s fucking IMPOSSIBLE to talk them out of it because “Well what you said didn’t happen, so it’s wrong. Duh.” Yikes. Just... yikes. Like, hello, hi, yes, I’m Killian and I stopped counting my institutionalizations at 20 times so I don’t know how many I’ve been in now but I’m p sure I know how it works now. Not to mention I dated someone who worked at one. So you can just, uh, fuck the hell off, yeah? (That’s usually some snarky response I have in my head when I’m flabbergasted at the ignorance these people have, honestly, to not know of the existence of the separation of the two and WHY they are separate and WHY it’s all hush hush when you’re on the good side and you don’t hear about it and WHY you have a grand fucking jolly good time on the good side and feel it genuinely helped, WHITE BECKY. ugh. Me at these people, seen below, as a corgi.)

.

..

...

BUT ER YEAH SO UH

I really hope you were on the good side so that you actually got help and so that you didn’t come out worse and with a huge extra shot of PTSD attached to your already very valid issues. And I’m so sorry if you got accidentally or purposefully thrown on the bad side. It happens accidentally a lot. Hell, an older woman with Alzheimer’s was on my unit once. It helped everyone, though. There wasn’t any blood spilled while she was there because everyone was doing their best to help her. She didn’t belong there at all and it was just her grandkids fucking her over for some reason we weren’t privy to and ... oh jesus christ, man, like thank fuck I have a heavy medical background. Came in handy. Really did. Ofc, as soon as she left, it was back to the blood and nonstop fights and lockdowns and thorazine cocktails and getting strapped down for nothing more than a sarcastic comment and all the physical and verbal abuse from staff and patients alike and the not getting seen or heard and this and that blah blah blah I could go on for hours.

But ahhhhhhh......... Just really hoping they purposefully (or even accidentally... either way is perfect) put you on the good side and you came out either the same, okay, or better for it. Take care of yourself and heed your own advice.

I want you to do something for me, okay nons? I want you to take every bit of those kind words you say to me and I want you to imprint them on yourself. Can you do that for me? Take all those words and internalize them and make them your own. If it helps, imagine I’m saying them to you. Okay?

I mean, in the end, you do you. Coz you’re an awesome person and a loved person. So... if that means ward time, then okay. That’s fine. You do you. I had to learn that the hard way. It’s not a bad thing. The only bad thing is the PTSD associated with it all and ofc all the things associated with PTSD... which is uh... you know... kind of er.. LIFE CHANGING IN THE WORST OF WAYS.

SO take care of yourself, okay? Dw about me. If I die, then it’s a purely good thing. If I live, then it’s an equally good thing and bad thing. Either way, I win in both scenarios. Since there is no getting rid of chronic pain. Especially the two chronic conditions I’ve been diagnosed with and now THIS spinal thing that I have no idea what it is except the prodromal to scoliosis or possibly actually scoliosis. . .which could and WOULD destroy my life. So. Right now, I have no reason to live, tbh, The pain is THAT intense. Yes, I have reasons but they’re overshadowed by how intense the pain is... Except for Echo. He’s the only thing thing I’d have a hard time leaving. I’d have to find someone I know and trust with steady finances throughout their entire adult life who knows how to handle spitz breeds and can properly take care of a neurotic 17lb pomeranian and really has the time to devote to him and all.

Most people cannot handle a pomeranian or spitz breeds in general and I honestly did not know that until I got Echo and owned him. I thought I knew what I was getting into just from extensive research and my grooming parlour history and my volunteering history and my pet sitting history. But... no... I had no fucking idea the extent at which you have to go for spitz breeds. And double coats. It’s... WAY above and beyond. And then on top of that, he’s diagnosed neurotic which is a little different in terms of what that means in dogs than in humans. So he’s, er... snappy and he’s very... adversarial. 

“A neurotic dog can be defined as a dog that is excessively anxious and highly emotionally upset.”“If your dog seems moody, in need of constant reassurance, and excessively suspicious of other dogs or cats in the house, or even of human beings then chances are you've a neurotic dog.”Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/1113508

That’s a pretty damn good and concise article on canine neurosis. Echo is more extreme in his neurosis than most. It happened before we got him. That’s why they called him “The Bully” and told us “Oh no, you don’t want him” when I was adamant that “Uh yes. That is going to be my dog and you cannot tell me otherwise. I don’t want the others. I want him. He is my dog. He is MY dog. I am HIS human. We are family. . .” I have never had a connection wth an animal like I do with my son.

...which is why I cannot die for him. And why I DO have one reason to live for that DOES overrule the pain and how intense it is.

The rest of my reasons... some come close, some are right at the border... some are right ON the border... but none are above it. If you get my drift. Echo is the only thing keeping me here.

...and honestly? It sucks. It sucks that I have to remain here because that’s how bad the pain is. My dreams to stick with pre-med and follow it through all the way to my dream residency program and one day be an attending at that hospital and take on a fellowship.... That is one of the VERY few things that are so close to the top of the border that it’s almost bursting through to Echo level... but not quite. And that kills me. Because I finally found my purpose and I may be knocked out of the game before I can even find out if I can make it there. Because of my body and because of physical disabilities that I cannot help and could never foresee. It had nothing to do with genetics. Nothing to do with my drug use or my alcoholism. Nothing to do with any of my habits. It was all completely fucking random. It was literally... Ehlers Danlos and fibro? “Some people are just born with it.” That is verbatim what my rheumatologist said to me when I begged him for answers on why this was happening to me, holding back tears. “Is it genetics? Is it what I did in the past? I used to do a TON of illegal drugs and drink a ton, too. Usually at the same time. All day and all night. It was terrible. For years upon years. And I’ve been anorexic for a long time. And this and that and... I don’t know. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!?” “Some people are just born with it.”

Fucking hell.

Alright, I’m gonna shut up.

But, man, that felt good to rant.

Thank you for being my muse. Lol.

And I appreciate the encouragement so much.

People either LOVE my little novellas to death... or they’re like “What the fuck is with you ranting about absolutely nothing when someone just says “hey” to you? Completely unnecessary.” I’m like “Uh, FIRST OF ALL” and then I complete that WITH A NOVELLA LMAOOOOOOO. And usually get the answer “Uh, okay, professor. I’m not reading that.” And it’s great because I usually didn’t write it for them. I usually write it for me. So I know they’re not gonna read it ahead of time because of hat comment.. so I just write about a ton of stuff that I’ve been needing to vent about for a long fucking time and get it out and no one will read it because they think it’s a furious, passive aggressive rebuttal to some nice guy(tm) telling me he hates the way I go into tirades like this. HAHA. So it’s a win-win situation for me when people like that pop up in my life. The simpletons who give me one word introductions or one line phrases. I get to respond with huge novellas and they get SUPER offended about it for some reason and feel it’s necessary to tell me how offended they are in that passive aggressive manner and it’s just... ahh, it’s so refreshing to me because it feels like my weekly debt collector calls. I absolutely LOVE my debt collector calls. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, if it’s a debt collector, I stop what I’m doing to answer it. It’s just so much fun. I feel bad for one of them, though, coz it’s the same guy who has been assigned to my case and I end up changing my spiel to him every time. So now LAST TIME HE ASKED ME “Is your name [birth name]?” as per usual to confirm it was me before going into “This is a call to attempt to collect a debt” spiel. And I answered with “You know, I’m actually not sure. You tell me.” And he FUCKING HUNG UP ON ME AND I HAVE NEVER LAUGHED SO HARD IN MY LIFE. Every debt collector call I get brings so much joy into my day that I just... even if I’m having the worst day and I’m sobbing on the couch about to slice my forearm open... if I debt collector calls me, I will answer and pretend to be a forlorn widow, twice abandoned, which is obviously why I’m crying because my partner just ran out on me. TRAGIC, AMIRITE. I like it when they have enough heart to ask me “What’s wrong” when I say “I just... don’t know if that’s my name... I’m in such dissarray right now that I don’t even know who I am anymore.” And they say “Maybe I should call back later.” And I say “OH no no, this is a fine time. I need a distraction. Desperately. Please. You’re all I have.” Which then normally chimes the hesitant “This is a call to collect a .... actually... I just... what’s wrong?” And then I have to force myself to keep crying as I put my 10 blade down and go “Well, you see, it all started when...” and I make up some super elaborate story, choking and voice shaking all the way. Improving on the spot. It’s SOOOOOOO much fun. Jesus fucking christ. And by the time I get off the phone, I’M NOT SAD ANYMORE AND I DON’T WANT TO KILL MYSELF ANYMORE!

But the ones where I can just... answer EVERYTHING they ask me with a question... and then when they FINALLY (very frustrated at this point, ofc) get to the end in double or triple the time that they should have, I’m guessing, and can ask me “What would you like to do about x amount of money/How would you like to pay/take care of this?”, I instantly drop whatever facade I had going to say something like “Bitch please, you can send that bill to the orange in the whitehouse. He’s the one who is forcing it to continue happening in the first place.” I keep that one as concise as possible. It has a major variation of that every time, though. Telling them to send it to Trump with the implication of how opposed I am to our healthcare system and how angry I am about my exorbitant medical debt and how completely unnecessary it is that I have it and how the 1% should be fucking paying it until the ones in power fix it to the right system, with absolutely bitterness seething from every fucking syllable like fucking poison. And then, ofc, they stutter on the end of the line: “I, uh... we... we can’t do that, so, uh... how do you want us, to, uh...” “Well, dear, let me spell it out for you. No, I really will spell it out for you. Are you ready? I have the address to the white house. Got a pen and paper handy? Computer?” “What? No, you can’t jus-” “Okay good. So the address is-” And I go on to speak OVER THEM with whatever address is listed online that I can find in the moment through a quick google search and as they try to cut me off, I just talk as loudly as I can. And every time they try to cut me off or tell me they can’t, I just get this super chipper, sadistic tone and go “Awe, thank you so much for sending it for me! I’m super excited to hear the response from a piece of fruit! Don’t think those tiny hands are big enough to hold a pencil, but we’ll see, eh?” And the jokes just go ON AND ON and I have a fucking MILLION of em and they don’t STOP and they’re terrible and I DO NOT STOP until the debt collector on the other end is so frustrated that they finally say “I’m going to put it down that you’re not going to pay.” And I just keep responding with. “You’re such a sweetheart for getting that payment taken care of for me! Now, where did you say you worked out of again? What’s the weather like? Super hot here in New Orleans... gonna be one HELL of a summer. GET IT!? HELL!? HAHA” Click. Line dead. And then I’m just fucking howling as I drop my phone.

And my POINT is (yes, I actually have a point, wow haha) that when good guys(tm) feel the need to point out their unnecessary opinion about my completely unnecessary novellas of ramblings, I like to respond with one paragraph of a “FIRST OF ALL” message so they think the ENTIRE message is going to just be a passive aggressive rebuttal... and then I have a bunch of fun with the response and get to vent a fuckton about what’s going on and get to also have a ton of fun and throw in “did you know” facts and horrible, horrible puns and dad jokes and then end it with a paragraph that seems like it would be fitting to a rebuttal that was started in the first paragraph because I legit do want to write a rebuttal but I don’t care enough to say much but I love to use the opportunity to vent in a public space (usually here on tumblr when a nice guy anon sends me a question I deem stupid or in a threat on fb that I deem stupid and a nice guy(tm) is mistreating my friends and I have to sigh to myself and step in and make everything better, as per usual, because confusing the masses with doublespeak and making people question whether or not they’re absolute correct information and absolutely wrong information alike is right or wrong is my specialty). 

Public venting is the only way that things make me feel better because I need an anonymous audience. I don’t want to force people to listen to me whine, but I need a platform where people CAN listen to me whine if they WANT TO (and surprisingly a LOT of people do lol) and get feedback and help and similar stories and advice and such of their own free will without me prompting anyone or asking for it. Helps a fuckton. Just writing stuff down in a journal or notebook? Doesn’t do a fucking thing for as a coping mechanism. Forcing people to listen to me? Boring and defeats the purpose and isn’t a coping mechanism for me coz that means they’re not actively listening. Like psychologists. People who are fucking paid to listen. I don’t trust people who are active listeners. I need passive listeners. People who will overhear a conversation in a coffee shop I have on the phone with someone in a corner while there’s a group of perfect looking, white, trust fund, fraternity and sorority people chatting and laughing loudly in their expensive brand name clothes in the middle of the shop and have that one person come over to me after I’m done with my phone call to say something about how they like this or that about how I talk or was interested in what I was saying and wanted to know more about x or y. Or something else about a topic or the way I spoke and gestured or something weird like that that really intrigues me and makes me feel heard and appreciated and loved because I never prompted anyone into coming to me. Never.

And that, my friend, is the story of why the grinch stole christmas.

No, that’s the story of why Killian literally needs a public platform to vent on.

Okay now I’m REALLY done. I swear. I promise. I fucking PROMISE lmaaaaoooooo. Sorrryyyy.

Nah, I really hope you’re okay, fam. Coz I certainly most definitely 200% am NOT haha.

Live long and prosper.

[racheltkellogg]

From Battleground to Higher Ground

Wow, it’s already Halloween! Time has really escaped me in the last month. That means a lot has happened in the past few weeks. Truly, much more than I’ve wanted to share until this point. In talking about the many battles I’ve faced this year, I’m finally starting to feel like a bit of a broken record. In the last month, I’ve been accused of ruining lives due to my illness. I’ve been accused of dragging people down with “my medical”. Quite frankly, I’ve really been put through the wringer emotionally. Life is about as unclear now as it was right after my diagnosis and I had to stop working. But in the midst of all that noise, this blanket of peace is covering me. That peace is God and knowing He’s the ultimate Author of my life. God gives the toughest battles to His strongest warriors. I can’t help but acknowledge this passion in my soul to live a life filled with people who are fighting – and struggling to fight – just as I am.

Exactly one day after my last blog update, I was rushed to the ER here in Seattle. It was a very unfortunate situation since I was making positive strides, physically and mentally, after my long hospitalization. Just before the close of September, I found out some devastating, heartbreaking news. You guys know me, I’m an open book. But this particular situation was so triggering, I simply don’t want to share what happened. Many of you know I’ve jumped through hoops after my latest boyfriend and I broke up. That was just two months ago. Since then I’ve undergone a 3-and-a-half week hospitalization, had to dump my former living situation and move, have been fundraising like crazy to keep a roof over my head – and now, a scary trip to the ER. In this span of a month, I’ve also learned I won’t be returning to television news any time soon – if ever. I’ll get more into the work update later in this post, but first I want to focus on the story surrounding this ER visit. It’ll give you a better sense of how strongly my chronic illness is fueled by my emotions. During the evening of Friday, September 29th, I was shocked by some unexpected personal news. In the moments following the discovery, I engaged in a phone call that was demeaning and negative beyond belief. Those 20-short minutes led me into a spiral of anxiety that I couldn’t control. My body reacted in a way it never has before. I was vomiting profusely, nearly convulsing at times. I’ve truly never experienced anything like this before. Luckily, in that moment while vomiting, I had the wherewithal to text the person I last spoke with and demanded they call 911. Next thing I know, I’m being hauled away in an ambulance and would spend the next seven hours in the emergency room. I underwent even more tests, and doctors/nurses continued to monitor my vitals throughout the night.

I was finally discharged after 6am Saturday morning. I had to order an Uber to get home because I didn’t have my car. By the way, there’s nothing more humbling than getting home from the ER in an Uber - especially while recovering from your own emergency situation. Later that morning, I saw my therapist. I cried for the first 20 minutes of my appointment. I couldn’t spit out a single word. Just a few hours before that, I was discharged. I still hadn’t processed the news from the night before, or the surprise ER visit. For the next two weeks, I couldn’t eat. I tried, but fought endless amounts of nausea and heightened anxiety. It was as if a lion was chasing me for seven to 10 straight days. My GP flared up. I lost more weight (down to 110lbs). My doctors became more worried - and that alone induces more personal stress for me. I’ve been praying for my situation for months, but after this ER visit, I couldn’t stop praying. I was so spent, I found myself asking – how is this life even worth it?

Here’s where God comes in - it’s crazy. Just 12 hours after being discharged from the ER, I attended an anniversary party for my church. About 30 minutes into that party, I got an email congratulating me on being chosen as an Ambassador for the inspirational brand, Live A Great Story. This is huge for me. I’ve been following the movement for three years - about the amount of time it’s been around. Man, timing is everything. I found myself thanking Jesus moments after I received the news of my ambassadorship. Not only for the opportunity, but because I know it’s affirmation from God that He wants me to LIVE OUT A GREAT STORY with my illness. I had to remind myself of the positives I’ve learned from this life-changing journey, once again. God reminded me WHY I’m on this path. Certainly, it’s not for me alone - but for the lives I hope to touch and inspire right now and in the future.

As an ambassador, I want to share positivity, love and encouragement around the Seattle area. This city is amazing and deserves the empowering message surrounded by this movement. One that truly reflects the life of Jesus, too! He lived the greatest, most selfless story of all - so why can’t I?

Soon here, I’ll be organizing a few events to try and inspire Seattleites to live a great story. Maybe a Day of Kindness, or a day of storytelling - where people can share their struggles only to be accepted for them. If you have ANY ideas, I wanna hear all about them!

Shortly after my visit to the ER, I enrolled in a DBT (dialectical behavior therapy) Skills training group. Not only do I need the skills of emotional regulation and all that therapy, but heck - it’ll be valuable information to use in my next adventure as a life coach. It’s not cheap, but it’s time I truly start investing in myself and my health.

Now to the health update!

Since my weight has been on the steady decline, my psychiatrist (who’s more supportive than my primary doctor) referred me to a dietician in Seattle who specializes in gastrointestinal disorders. She’s been a God-send, but such a huge damper on my finances. I’ve seen some good progress in the last two weeks of seeing her - but I’m now on all kinds of supplements that range from $30-$70 per bottle. Multiply that by 5 bottles. Health and illness are both so expensive…and mind you, these supplements need to be taken several times throughout the day - so I’m already running out. 

Some of those supplements are supposed to help combat my fatigue. I’ve been dealing with some harsh fatigue for years (thanks overnight shift), but it got a whole lot worse when eating became an obstacle. Obviously, when you don’t eat - your body doesn’t produce energy. So now we’re trying to retrain my stomach/body in hopes it can heal and normalize itself. My dietician’s overall goal for me during that process is to eat six small meals a day. I’ve only been able to stomach about three small meals so far. Sometimes only two. And as sad as it sounds, my six meals consist of two half smoothies, two tiny (super basic) turkey sandwiches, and soup. So I’m eating the same foods every day, multiple times per day. Exhilarating! Right now, she also has me doing the HCL Challenge. If you don’t know, HCL stands for Hydrochloric Acid - and it helps break down the foods in your stomach. I started the challenge by taking one HCL capsule, and need to increase my dosage by one capsule every day until I feel heart burn. I took NINE CAPSULES today, and I still don’t feel any “warming” or “burning”. That means my stomach is likely very deficient in HCL. I’m not sure if that’s due to my GP, or if that’s one of the factors that contribute to my GP. It’s like the chicken or the egg.

In the last two weeks, I also found out I won’t be returning to TV news in quite some time. Due to my illness, my doctors and I had to come up with a list of accommodations before I could actually return to work. My leave of absence was extended two weeks longer than it was supposed to be - and that’s because my employer and my doctor were back and forth in the discussion. After all that, my employer came back and said they could not meet the necessary accommodations. That means I either have five weeks to try and magically get better (*ahem, GP’s chronic*), or come up with some other plan to put me on long-term disability. The latter is clearly the only route I can realistically take since I’m still dealing with symptoms daily. Some days are obviously worse than others - but my illness isn’t conducive to the nature of the news business. 

My not being able to return to work is a huge hit to January’s goal of beginning my life coach certification. At this point, I have zero finances for it. None. I’ll continue to pray for the funds necessary to join and finish the program - and I kindly ask for your prayers, too! I could use a bit of clarity on the necessary “next” steps He wants me to take. Should I work with the mentally ill in a behavioral hospital? Start a support group? How do I pay for the bills with all these rising medical expenses? I’ve also been trying hard to get an appointment with a GI doctor who specializes in Gastroparesis. She works out of the University of Washington - and man, the process has taken well over a month just to make an appointment. It’s difficult to be seen at UW. The hospital requires a “patient review process”, and several of my doctors haven’t been as attentive with my information as necessary. I’ve had to become my own super-advocate because some of my doctors just forget. Seeing this new GI doctor is very important. I’m currently not seeing a gastroenterologist and haven’t since my last one diagnosed me via email and dodged out of town for over a week. I was left to research my “death-threat” disease online by myself. I say “death threat” because I literally thought I was going to die after all the crap I read online. After that situation, I ditched that doctor and her hospital and started seeing my functional medicine doctor. Since then, It’s taken months to find a good GI who is well-versed and highly educated in my illness. All in all, UW is still processing my medical records before they can accept me as a patient. I could use prayers for a speedy and positive response to that request. 

As always, I just want to thank you for keeping up with journey, sharing my story, and even donating to my GoFundMe campaign. If you haven’t, and want to help with my current battle, you can access it under my blog’s headline - or just by clicking right here! If you don’t have money to spare, that’s SO okay! I still appreciate your love and concern more than you know. And if you could share my story or the link with others who may be able to help, then I’m forever indebted to you. Gosh, I’m so blessed by all the good friends and loved ones that are helping me through this really difficult time. I love you guys so, so, so, so much!

On a short and final note: I just wanna make sure my Cali friends+fam know there’s no way I’m moving back after the past few weeks Seattle. This city has resources. Seattle has seasons. Colorful trees. Misty, moody and beautiful rain. The ocean. Lakes. Islands. I’m in awe. Fall, I have truly fallen head over heels for you! 

Thank you again for reading! Until next time! MUCH LOVE<3