#whenever i have a week off i feel like my next appt is just “catching up on life and my interests” instead of “doing therapy”

[spirograffe]

infodumped about gerard way and the history of mcr to my therapist today lads

[canipetthatdeaddove]

hello there! You've certainly been busy! I hope all the activity has helped! Things are looking up for you, and your post seems to hint at positivity for you? I hope so. You deserve good things and are working hard to bring them about! Excited to read your work for TRSB, you are a wonderful author ( ps I mis magnificent centuries too - I love that Fili was warned off Kili, I just always see them wanting to be with each other; Thorin is so coniving! ) Have a comforting day, and don't let the intrusive thought take over!

(You didn't ask for this long a response but the can was opened and out came the worms. Sorry!!)

I'm sorry my post didn't hint at more positivity. I re-read it and was like DANG I sound grumpy. I know I don't need to apologize, but mainly, it wasn't my intention. I'm excited to have a moment to breathe and share with my tumblr community, but I think the accidental clipped tone is indicative of how manic and kinda scared I feel by all the amazing activity and progress that's suddenly happening. I feel wired and fried, and just keep wanting to either catch up to this pace, or for things to slow down considerably.

I am building a small jewelry business now, have a part time job, and enrolled part time in uni, still run my dog grooming business and am currently in the middle of a dog sitting gig. I've taken on the labor of providing this recovery meeting in my city in addition to attending all my commitments to my Native American sobriety group, while also very much wanting to write and balance my schedule and be a good mom.

There are so many factors at play with whether or not my day goes well or poorly, and being on a very effective weight loss med is one of them. I'm in a near constant caloric deficit, and had a health scare last month because my orthostatic blood pressure was cray-cray and I kept swooning due to a dramatic decrease in salt in my diet lololol. There was no beefy handsome stranger to catch me, and I'm lucky I was okay whenever it happened considering I was alone. I'm doing better this month. Normal blood pressure stats in my appt this week.

So I am thrilled that my life is going the way it is after so many depressing years in addiction and unhappiness, but, it's like... I have not been conditioned to operate at this level of socializing and what have you for over 15 years. I'm very afraid of messing it all up. I wish I would quit it, lol. I am just so fucking MUCH of a person (not flexing, I'm straight up complaining). But it's nice to kinda have that come back to life. I did a pretty effective job of killing the real me for a while. Real me is a lot. Which ya'll know.

And I shouldn't project negativity about my TRSB submission. I got in the way of me having as much fun with it as I should have, and I'm the only one already assuming my exchange partner will feel slighted or the rare pair's fandom will hiss at me and my submission like snakes. I'll practice better mindfulness with the next FiKi thingy I signed up for (because I Just. Can't. Quit.).

Thank you for being excited for my things!!! I'm looking forward to posting my edits of TMC and getting the next chapter out before the end of the year. I want another chapter for House of Rivia before the end of the year as well. Hopefully those aren't completely crazy goals. It means so much to know folks are still engaged despite my absence.

Thanks so much for the encouragement. 🥹

[levelfivegay]

so literally nobody asked but heres how my day went 

wwwwwwwwwwhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaatttttttttttttttttttt the fuckckcckckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk  honestly. started normal. got my tired gay ass outta bed at 5, went to school at 6. 0 hour went by fine. took a quiz on heart of darkness, died a little inside, but about halfway through i was hit by Fucking Waves of the McDepression(tm) feel. So again, started normal.

 first hour tho,,,,,, jesus fuck???? hate that class. Its AP calc AB, so its fucking hard. I get by, i understand pretty much everything we do though. I get good grades on the mock tests we take, but i do no work. absolutely nothing. i rarely do any work at all if im being honest. im always out of it, im literally constantly consumed by the urge to jump in front of a car, i cant force myself to do anything. ive convinced myself nothing i do is important anymore because i wont be alive long enough to benefit from it (yikes lmao i know).

 so i do nothing and have a solid fucking F in that class. we took a quiz and worked on a packet. along the way i get asked a problem about fucking derivatives and i had the right answer but i stutter when explaining it and i literally get fucking sympathy pats (actual physical pats. they may not have been that passive aggressive but i hate physical contact and overanalyze everything and get mad) because poor stupid fucking jillian right?  

 but anyways  at the end in the idle 3 minutes the teacher gave us, she came up to me to confront me about my grade. she told me its an... Issue and she thought i knew more than my grade reflected which... i guess. she asked what was going on and of course whenever someone asks whats wrong i go into Breakdown Mode, like somebody drilled a fucking hole in a shitty dam. i look away from her and say i “just have a lot going on right now and i cant focus on that” and she asks me to try harder (this was when i started tearing my nails off and holding my breath so i wouldnt actually cry in front of the entire class) and to come in after school next week. so i agree and  before i can fucking book it she tells me she has to call my parents. so the bell rings and i grab my shit and fucking motor, going blue in the face holding back a breakdown.

the walk down that hallway out of the building has literally never been harder. i left my friends behind and turned my music as loud as possible to catch my breath and clear my face before i go outside to walk with another friend. i... kind of succeeded? bc he didnt say anything. so we went to class and i was distracting myself with shitty jokes and bad coloring and he says we should leave after that hour, so i get my mom to call me out and we leave and get food.

and when i got home, i immediately checked the receiver and deleted the teachers message.

but god damn.

i was such a wreck when she was talking to me. how the fuck do you lightly say that the reason you didnt do your math homework was because you were curled up thinking about all the ways you could kill youself in the next three minutes and who youd have to address in your suicide note????? what the fuck????

honestly im this fucked up mixture of angry and depressed. ive asked my parents three times now for fucking therapy. i need someone to talk to. i fu cking need someone to actually talk to who i wont be paranoid about worrying with all my shit. someone who actually kind of wants to hear what i want to say to help or is at least a little obligated to. what kind of parents three times dont help their kid get help? what the fuck. if my kid could work up the courage to ask me for an appt with a therapist or psychiatrist, id hop all over that shit real fast. lists of therapists in the area covered by our insurance, discussions of what they want out of it, schedules, get them set up asap. but here we are. seven months later. wow. 

lmao life just that way isnt it tho lol. crazy innit. someone hit me with a car. 

[2centsofsilver]

5/9/17

Add-on to last post:

Shortly after writing that last post (and subsequently crying), I was responding to texts from Anna and a plethora of incoming FB comments from about 6 other people concerning my First Aid/CPR class. I was also texting Lisa and trying to keep everyone straight. I’d just had 4 shots of espresso and had been driving and wasting money irresponsibly all day since my massage. I replied to Anna and Lisa and put my phone in my pocket, went downstairs, and out to my car to go to the gym. Lisa was sitting in her car having just got home (this happens several times a day; we catch each other while the other person comes or goes; constantly living the same schedule but opposite. So I get into my car and can’t find my phone. I’m searching and flipping out and Lisa starts walking up to the door. I flag her as usual.

“Where ya going?” “The gym. I can’t find my phone and I was JUST texting you and Anna.” “Want me to call it?” “Sure but it’s probably turned down.”

She calls it twice while I decide it’s in my apartment somewhere and start stumbling out of my car, hesitantly mumbling on repeat, “These pants are really embarrassing. These workout pants. They’re clown pants. They’re embarrassing. No one ever sees them cuz usually it’s dark out when I go to the gym and…”

Basically I’m having an anxiety attack getting out of my own car in a fine pair of pants in the presence of my best friend. This happens a lot and I don’t know why. But I hate that I’m like that because she’s my best friend. Maybe it’s because Lisa is so cool and pretty and I’m not.

So we walk in together and briefly talk in the entrance way with me a quarter of the way up the stairs.

I disassociate (normal) and realize how unbearably overexposed I feel. I look awful for one; had a massage earlier, hadn’t washed my hair in over a week, no makeup, super greasy, and had just finished crying. So I’m in the spotlight and I’m not protected (very vulnerable in my gross human lifestyle that’s secretly me), and she’s standing there super cute and pretty because she had gotten her hair done by Meagan today and she always radiates happiness and vitality.

I have been more and more anxious around her ever since I started fucking up (i.e. Leaving attempted cries for help/suicide notes on her car door handle in the middle of the night, having Natasha talk to her about my crazy brain when I wasn’t able to express my feelings one night, and how often I feel like she’s mad at me because I’m so bad at friendship). I just am sad. Like I’m so sorry and I hate myself a lot, but I can’t stop needing to not feel so alone in life.

Anyway, we’re standing there and I tell her how I have this class tomorrow and I’m very awkwardly asking her questions about it. Like I feel frozen in fear to even talk so I stutter, “Yeah, what’s it even like? It’s 6.5 hours. What will we do? Will I have to save a dummy in front of the whole class?” She reassured me it would probably be handled in groups. But the WAY I was feeling/being/acting was unbearable. I couldn’t even hardly look at her so I’m talking to the wall or floor or off in some other direction and talking with my hands and saying “Um” a lot. There’s also a very prominent urgency anytime I see her, to try and tell her everything going on in a matter of a few short seconds because idk when I’ll see her again and I miss her so so much and she has other things in her life requiring attention right now and stuff. So I’m always very frazzled because I’m almost always caught off guard whenever we run into each other, so those things I want to tell her aren’t at the forefront of my brain ready to come out.

So as a product of all this, I try telling her how me and Meagan have been talking more, snapchattinh back and forth a lot, texting, how we’ve talked about having lunch sometime, how she got me on tinder and how she’s into hearing about any girl I’m talking to or any girl who doesn’t write back (now I was just rambling and anxiously trying to fill space because me and Meagan don’t actually talk THAT extensively about my tinder matches), and how I scheduled an appt with her next week due to my… and then I do it again…

I start playing with my hair and blaming my dead ends and bangs that are thinning due to stress and my roots and grey hairs. I start showing lisa what’s happening to my hair. At this point I feel sulken like a sack of potatoes and I’m wondering whether she visibly sees or feels how sad I am. She knows I struggle with anxiety and it MUST be evident right, with what a disaster every encounter I have with her is? Since I’m such a failure at being alive or whatever?

I don’t know. I hate myself and just feel bad and guilty all the time. I wish I didn’t feel this alone.

2am.

My phone was in my kitchen sink btw.