It's time to be open...

It's time to be open about a part of me.  While I really don't like labels, I identify with the LGBTQ community.  It's something I discovered in my early twenties; I didn't exactly deny that part of me, but I didn't exactly acknowledge it either.  Over the years it's become more evident that this is a part of me.  I've shared this with one friend, and sort of talked about it with another, but that's it.  Just like before when I didn't deny OR acknowledge it, now, I don't exactly hide it, but I'm not really open about it either.

I know this information will not go over well with some people in my life, especially family; but there have been so many inspiring people in my life, that I know will be supportive, that I feel like it's time to share.  I know some of these people who will have a problem with it probably already suspect something, because they're the kind of people who believes that someone who stands up strongly for LGBTQ rights/someone who is an ally, IS someone in that community.  Which, to be clear, I've always felt very strongly about being an ally, long before I discovered this about myself. 

Like I said, I don't really like labels.  I really believe that for most people, sexuality/attraction is more of a "spectrum".  I don't think people are every really 100% one thing.  People can be attracted to different people, in different ways, at different times.  So I'm not exactly looking to put a label on myself, but I decided it was time to be open about it.  So there ya go...

Having A Voice For Mental Health

Unfortunately I have let this blog fall by the wayside, and it's time to change that.  At my last therapy session, my therapist suggested that I find ways to use my voice to be an advocate for mental health, because it was something she could tell I was passionate about, which I am.  This conversation came after I spent 10 minutes yelling and crying about a conversation with a very close friend who made a comment with the implication that people with mental health issues have control over their issues.  I was freakin pissed and I was ranting about it to her.  She also suggested that finding a way to have a voice and connect more with others will help me a lot with the intense feelings of loneliness in my life.  She suggested keeping up with my blog here, and seeing if there's other opportunities.  I was going to apply to be a Crisis Counselor for Crisis Text Line, and of course I was aware of the different situations that people would be dealing with that I would encounter and I felt like I would be okay.  However, as I was actually applying and reading about the intensity of things, I'm not sure I'd really be able to handle it well right now.  So for now, I'm just going to focus on my blog, and try to be more consistent with it.  I also really want to focus on awareness and education in addition to just sharing my own experiences.

So today, I just want to share some things/comments I have come across about mental health that are are very much lacking education and awareness.  Some of these comments have been said directly to me, others are things I've seen people within my Facebook feed post or comment about.

-This first one is from the conversation I mentioned earlier, and I plan to go over the issues brought up in this conversation more in depth in a future blog post, but until then: In a discussion about how people in the general medical fields and emergency respondents (EMT and police especially) need to be better trained to handle mental health situations, this friend indicated that training all them is a lot to ask.  A little bit of back and forth later and the comment was made that individuals with heart conditions can't control their conditions, but someone with a mental health issue can.  This was about mental health in general, but also self-inflicted situations such as self-harm and suicidal attempts.  This is a very complicated situation and there's a lot to discuss with it, but the gist of it that I want to get across right now is that mental health illness/issues are not something someone can control. 
This particular conversation really effected me, a big part was because of who it was that said it, but I have spent most of my life trying to understand what I experience and what goes on in my brain, and for the first 15-20+ years, I dealt with almost single person around me telling me it was my fault and in my control, and I believed it.  It wasn't until the past 3-5 years that I have truly been able to accept that it is NOT my fault and that I could NOT control it.  I really slid back to that "self" that truly believed it was my fault I still experience depression (and anxiety, ptsd, ocd, panic attacks, adhd etc etc).  The thing is, at no point did I ever believe this about someone else, only myself.  I could never break the stigmas about it for myself.

Now, for the rest of the things I've come across/heard (and will at some point go into more in depth) and unfortunately it's not just from one person, many of these came from more than 1 person alone.  Again some of them we directed right at me, others were just posts or comments made from people:

-We are over medicating children, and adults, for things like depression, anxiety, add/adhd
-Be happy mentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally; just get it together and be happy
-Events from your childhood are no reason for X, Y, and Z to happen, get over it (XYandZ meaning things like ptsd issues, panic attacks, anxiety, etc)
-Just take care of yourself and take a walk, you'll feel a lot better
-You don't need a doctor or pills, you just need fresh air and running shoes
-Shut up and do something about it
-There are so many people who have it way worse
-What do you have to be depressed about?
-Depression isn't real
-Depression is just being selfish

There's a lot more, but you get the point.  Can you understand why these are problematic?  Can you understand why these ARE NOT ACCURATE?! There needs to be a ridiculous amount of more education, awareness, and training!  ER's need to be better trained, informed, and equipped to handle mental health situations, police officers need to be trained about the possible situations they may walk into and why they're different from other ordinary calls/situations they run into, teachers and other professionals in schools need to understand that a teenager likely ISN'T looking for attention, they're looking for help.  Things need to change in this country.  It starts with each and every one of us.

Getting back on my feet

After falling into a deep, dark, awful hole of despair and depression, I'm trying to slowly get back on my feet again.  The first step is trying to take better care of myself; this involves being in therapy again, seeing my psychiatrist as usual, going in for an overdue check up with my regular doctor (although I just switched doctors, so it's more of an initial "meet" appointment"), going to the dentist for the first time in years, etc.  It's tiring, not to mention expensive.  First, under my new insurance, my medicine is much more expensive than it was before.  Second, because it's been so long since I've been to the dentist, I need some work done.  I need to have some gum work done, which won't be too bad, approximately $150 after insurance.  I also need my wisdom teeth removed, which should have been done a long time ago, because they're causing problems.  The actual procedure is covered by insurance, but because I have a fairly low pain tolerance coupled with a severe anxiety of even being at the dentist, they're going to be me under, which isn't covered by insurance; so that's another $500.  I also need Invisalign (the newish "adult" braces) but that's not covered at all and is about $4,000, so that is completely off the table.  However, it looks like the medicine that my psychiatrist wanted to put on was approved with the new insurance!  Hallelujah!  It will help with the binge eating disorder, my lack of focus and concentration (which is either ADHD, or symptoms of my depression), and my lack of energy.  It's a pretty strong stimulant, so I have to start with a three day supply, and then if things go well, my psychiatrist has to have her supervising physician send in the 30 day supply.  I have to start on a low dosage because there's a chance it's going to mess with my anxiety, so cross your fingers that doesn't happen. 

As I mentioned in my last post, I have officially started therapy again.  My therapist and I were able to establish a timeline of some events that happened last fall and determined some events that she thinks triggered the onset of my depression coming back.  This was made worse by a heavy work and school schedule that leaves me very little time for "me", so I haven't been doing anything that I used to do to help me relax and unwind and that made me feel good.  I also haven't been sleeping well, and my energy levels are completely depleted by work and school.  Essentially, I'm overwhelmed and I need a break.  In that regard, hopefully things will be getting better soon.  My "semester" ends on March 15th (one more week!) and then I have a 3 1/2 week break before my new semester starts, and within that break I will be going on vacation to visit my best friend for the first time in almost two years.  Due to the timing of when classes are offered, my next semester that starts at the beginning of April will be a lighter load than this past semester has been.  After that, the remaining three semesters will be pretty heavy as I finish up my degree, but it will be nice to a have a bit of a break before that.  I'm really glad I made the transfer to this school last year because for the first time ever, it seems like the end is in sight.  I should be done with my degree by June of next year.  Woo hoo!  They do hold a graduation ceremony in both Orlando and Minneapolis, but I won't be be able to afford to go to either :-(  But who cares, at least I'll be done!

Long, overdue update

It's been quite awhile since I've written a post here, so I guess it's about time.  **Possible trigger warning for parts of it**

There's not necessarily a lot to update on, I've just been having an overall really rough time.  Over the past year- Last Spring, I "graduated" therapy and my depression was considered in remission.  I had a few really good months, and then around September everything came back.  Honestly, everything externally was mostly fine, it was that "dark part/critter" I've written about before.  I feel like I'm drowning in work, school, and life.  I feel like I'm under water with a ton of rocks tied to my ankles and an elephant sitting on chest.  I thought I could deal with it on my own, but that clearly has not been the case.  Here's everything that has happened since:

All of that, combined with some frustrations (at the time) at work, I looked for and accepted a new job.  I started said new job, was bored out of my mind in the first week, and went back to my old job.  Ultimately this move, and move back, ended up being good for me, but it was still a lot of unnecessary change and stress.

After making it almost three years, I started cutting again.  It's the only thing that has helped me try to fight and survive, it gives me a tiny break from the heavy darkness that sits on my chest.  I know it's not the best option, but it's how I cope.  I have also stopped caring about hiding it.  While I do try to hide it at work from my guests, elsewhere, it's not a concern.  It takes so much energy to worry about hiding it all the time, and that's just energy I don't have.  All my energy and strength are being sucked into trying to survive.

I've had to battle a lot of passive and active suicidal thoughts.  I've avoided going to the hospital at times when I know I should have gone.  Honestly, I feel like the hospital isn't an option.  I can't afford to miss a lot of work, and I can't afford a large medical bill (yes, insurance would cover some of it, but not all of it).  I feel like then once I was out, it would cause so much extra stress and be counterproductive. 

Due to trying a new medicine my psychiatrist wanted me to try to help with energy levels, my binge eating disorder kicked up again (turns out compulsive behaviors and binge eating was a side effect of that medicine.  I'm not on it anymore, but I was on it long enough).  I haven't been able to get it back under control, and I've gained back about half (or more) of the weight I had lost.  It's beyond frustrating because I feel like I have no control over it.  I'm spending money I shouldn't, and most of the time I don't even realize it's happening until it's over, it's almost like I black out when it happens.  I know there are a myriad of triggers that can potentially initiate the episodes, and unfortunately there's too many to try to avoid them all.  But something else that doesn't make it any easier is that again, I'm spending all my energy and strength on trying to stay alive, I don't have much left to try to take care of myself, so it's so much easier to get take out food than it is to make food at home, even just a frozen entree, which is what I have most of the time because I HATE (and really SUCK at) cooking.  I'd like to try to change this and start making some really basic healthy recipes, but at the moment it's a little tough.  I've always had roommates that had stuff like pots, pans etc. I had one pan, but when my old roommate suddenly up and moved out back in August, it seems like she (I hope, accidentally) took it.  So, I have a baking sheet, and a couple measuring cups, but that's it :-P  Hopefully I can work my up to getting some more legit stuff for my kitchen LOL  (PS if anyone needs an idea for my birthday, there ya go ;-)  granted that's not till September, but whatever lol). 

Anyways, regarding the BED, there's a medicine out there specifically to help it some that my psychiatrist is trying to get me on, but my previous insurance denied it :-(  My insurance just changed, so at my next appointment on the 4th, we're gonna try again.  *Cross your fingers*  I've also signed up for Weight Watchers again, so I hope that helps.  So far I've still been going over my "points" they give you, but at least I'm tracking everything (it's pretty easy to figure out what I had, even though I don't remember).  I really hope to start making some progress again, because all of this makes me hate myself more and more.

Now...on to the real reason for this post.  As of tomorrow, I am officially starting therapy again.  I've known for awhile I need to go again, but I was struggling.  I have no idea why, I like my old therapist, and she did so much for me, why was I so scared to go back?  Because it's so freakin frustrating to have to rely on medicine and therapy just to try to survive.  It was getting to the point that my manager and other coworkers were expressing a lot of concern and worry about me (among other people, but I figure when people at work start saying they're worrying, it's really getting bad) so I reached out to my therapist to try to get a appointment, but I was struggling to follow through, and trying to get one around work.  Well then, last week my manager called a meeting with HR so they could check on me :-/  My manager assured me that if I needed to make the appointment for when I was scheduled to work, that him or my other manager would cover the desk for an hour so I could go (conveniently, my therapist office is literally right across the street from the hotel, so it works well).  So finally I got an appointment set up and I'm officially going back.  I'm dreading it.  And it's hard.  But here's what I have to say about it... IT'S OKAY TO GET HELP.  IT'S OKAY TO GO BACK TO THERAPY.  I sort of forgot about that for awhile.

Lastly, I'd like to explain something.  With all this going on, with fighting suicidal thoughts, etc, people say things like "Don't you know how many people care about you?"  Yes.  LOGICALLY I know there are people who care about me.  I know I have friends and I know they care.  But in my mind...that's not what I can see.  I am literally blinded by something entirely different-
Despite the things people say or do, this is what is being SCREAMED into my head/heart-
"You're a fuck up.  Look at all the friendships you ruined over the years because of all this.  Look at the people you overwhelmed.  Look at the people who left.  You are a BURDEN.  There is no one whose life would be any worse if you had never been born.  There is no one who would be impacted if you weren't here.  Outside of work, you rarely see or interact with anyone, no one would notice if you just weren't there.  Work would change the schedule around and your shifts would easily be covered.  You provide no talents, skills, or abilities to this world.  People would be happier and better if you weren't around to bring them down and be a burden."

When someone says they care, there is a small part of me that hears you, so please don't stop reminding me.  I need those reminders, so that maybe someday those voices will be louder than this internal demon. 


I appreciate those of you who read this.  As you know, over the past few years I've been trying really hard to help speak out against the stigma of struggling with mental illness and that involves being wildly open about everything as much as I can.  I know it's tiring, I know it seems like I'm always being negative, but being able to be open about everything is actually an incredibly positive thing for me.  If you're looking for other things to read to help you understand mental illness, check out The Mighty's website, they have a lot of really great articles.  https://themighty.com/

Every year...and three years gone

***Possible Trigger Warning***

Every year, in the weeks leading up to my birthday, I struggle with some pretty severe suicidal depression.  It's kind of hard to explain why it happens.  I guess it's the idea of facing another year.  Another year of facing this relentless depression.  I start hoping, even praying, that I won't make it to my birthday, that I won't have to go on another year in this darkness.  I make plans.  Maybe not always the when, but the how.  It starts plaguing my mind, it's all I can think about.  The weight starts getting so heavy that sometimes all I can do it cry.  Whether I'm at work, driving, at home, at the store, etc.

The thing is, there is something that helps relieve the weight, something I relied on for so long- hurting myself.  It's something I've struggled with since I was somewhere around 12 or 13 years old.  I went through periods of being able to go months without acting, and then I'd give in again.  At one point I went two years, then I gave in.  Last time I hurt myself was November 2015.  I honestly thought I was past this.  But it was still a DAILY struggle.  I had to fight the urge to give in every freakin day of those two years and nine months.  This week...I gave in.  It was pretty minor, but it happened. I was lonely.  I was hurting.  I just wanted a break.  I just wanted some relief.  I'm not sharing this for attention, or for pity.  I'm sharing this because I don't want  to be ashamed.  It's how I cope.  It's how I survive.  I know it's not great, but it's not as simple as just "not doing it."  I want to be open about my experiences so that other people can understand better and so others struggling don't feel so alone.  Except this week, I found myself trying to find ways so that people wouldn't see my arms, being grateful that a restaurant was chilly during a family dinner so I wouldn't have to have a conversation about it.  The truth is, as much as I want to be open and fight the stigma and help people understand, I am also embarrassed and ashamed that after 15+ years, I'm still relying on this just to survive.  And the truth is, it makes me feel better, but I know I'm not supposed to have that kind of attitude.  I'm supposed to feel bad, I'm supposed to avoid acting on it.  But it helps...

I'm just angry and frustrated.  I just don't want to fight anymore. I'm tired and angry that after years of fighting this depression, after finally having a breakthrough earlier this year and having a few really great months, it's back.  It's heavy, it's dark.  I want an escape because I honestly do not feel like I can keep going on anymore...

Anyways, there's an article I cam across recently that I think EVERYONE should read, ESPECIALLY if you have kids or teenagers, or work with them in any way.  None of the adults in my life reacted like this in any way when they had suspicions that I was cutting, and truthfully, if they had, I may have been more willing to open up or try to get help soon.
https://metro.co.uk/2018/08/30/what-children-who-are-self-harming-need-the-adults-in-their-lives-to-know-7893346/?ito=cbshare

Here goes nothing...

I haven't done a blog post in a long time, and I don't know if I'm even going to publish this because frankly, it's probably going to be heavy and pretty scattered.  I should probably list a ***trigger warning*** here for suicidal and self-harm talk.

I was doing really well for a few months.  I was feeling great!  I wasn't feeling the weight of the depression and the self-harm and suicidal parts were calm.  Then, a little more than 2 weeks ago, I went from great to rock bottom, pretty much overnight.  I became suicidal and almost (and should have) gone to the hospital.  My manager let me stay at the hotel for a couple nights (though I paid for one of them) because I thought if I could get out of my environment and have a change of pace for a few days, and be somewhere a little bit safer, I could still work and not go to the hospital.  It was good that I stayed, but it didn't help that much.  I was able to get an appointment with my therapist even though I was supposed to be done with therapy.  We worked through one particular incident that happened a little bit before this "episode" started, since it was the only thing I could think of to cause this, but I don't think it really had anything to do with it. 

We also determined that my "parts", especially my self-harm and suicidal parts are working out of habit.  I can feel and acknowledge that, but it doesn't make it any less real or any easier to deal with.  I think they just freaked out.  They're not used to things going so well, so they panicked thinking that something was about to happen and they needed to try to get in front of it.  If that makes sense?  What does all this mean?  It means I'm barely hanging on.  It means every night I'm lying in bed thinking about ending it.  These parts are SCREAMING in my head right now, and it's the only thing I can hear, feel, and see.  "You don't matter."  "You're not worth anything."  "You are a burden and annoyance to everyone around you."  It's all that's on my mind for about two weeks now. 

So why haven't I gone to the hospital?  I thought about it.  If I was being smart and safe, that's where I'd be.  But it's too terrifying, and lonely.  First of all, it's terrifying because I don't know what would happen.  I don't do well when I can't have things planned out a little, or at least know what to expect.  I tried doing some research to find out more, and I just found horror stories about people who've gone to the ER because they were suicidal.  Second of all, finances.  I can't afford to lose more than a couple shifts at work.  I can't afford a major medical bill if insurance doesn't cover all, or any, of it.  I can't afford to lose hours or my job because I abandoned shifts.  (Logically, I know that last one won't happen, but I'm still paranoid.)  Third, I already feel lonely enough, going to the hospital seems 10x worse.  Here's why: They don't allow any electronics and such, which I understand, but that's how I stay connected to people.  I'm not trying to be someone who "always needs their phone", but for instance, my best friend is out of the country and the only way we can talk is via an app.  Going to the ER by myself, again, feels terrifying.  They have limited visiting hours, but I know there's no one who would come to visit.  The few people I think *might* come visit, wouldn't have a way to get there, or wouldn't be able to come during the visiting hours.  I highly doubt I'd be allowed to have my crocheting, and depending on where I go (the hospital vs. The Meadows) I wouldn't even be allowed to bring a book to read!!!  Anything that would bring me just a small amount of comfort in such a scary time, is out.  I just don't have the courage or strength to do that.  It's not right for me, I think I'd come out of it feeling a lot worse.  I did have a friend offer to go in to the ER with me if I end up going, but I know that won't always be an option.

I have never felt so alone in my life.  Sure, I have a few "friends", but some of them I seriously question the friendship.  For example, 2 or 3 of them in particular, I have watched over and over again make time for every one else in the world but me.  They would always claim we were such good friends, but I was more of an after thought.  When I would try to make plans, they wouldn't make the time (but they make time for a lot of other people).  If we did make plans, they were always cancelled because someone else wanted to do something.  I was their friend when it was convenient for them, when they needed to vent or rant about something.  A few times I may have been included in a group thing, but then I was treated like an annoyance and then excluded from what they were doing.  I'm not trying to sound petty.  I know the people I'm thinking of are very busy, and to be fair, by text, they were a good friend.  But sometimes that's not enough.  I used to get hugs from my best friend all the time.  Since he moved away, I don't get hugs from anyone anymore (except the occasional "hi" hug or something) and that really sucks.  Sometimes I just really need a hug. 

Everyday, something happens to show me or remind me that I'm nothing but a burden and annoyance to everyone around me.  There isn't anyone whose life be any different if they hadn't met me.  No one would notice if I slip away.  Sure, people say they would.  But guess what?  They don't.  When I get in these dark places, I tend to shut down.  I'll stop reaching out and texting people, I'll stop responding to people etc.  And every time it happens. no one notices. I also noticed some time ago that a majority of the time, I'm the one who texts people first.  So guess what, I stopped, just to see if anyone wanted to talk from their own decision, not just responding to me.  And no one did.
Work would be fine, they'd have someone to cover my shifts and eventually they'll forget about me. 

 "You don't matter."  "You're not worth anything."  "You are a burden and annoyance to everyone around you."  This is on repeat 24/7.  I desperately want to hurt myself.  I've even started carrying around my "tools" again because it brings me comfort to know they're nearby. 

Ultimately, I have a plan, well, half a plan.  I have a "how", I don't have a "when", which I guess is good.  Yes, I'm in contact with my therapist.  We're discussing whether or not I'm going to start coming in regularly again, and if so, how often. Yes, I have crisis hotline numbers saved on my phone, and crisis chat sites bookmarked on my computer.  Yes, I'm reaching out to people as much as I can manage and as much as they'll let me.  Things are just very very very dark right now.  I feel hopeless, angry, frustrated and discouraged.  I've been crying myself to sleep at night.  I'm desperately trying to hold on, even though every single fiber of my being wants to let go. 

For anyone who read all of this, thank you for letting me get everything out.  I'm sorry it was so heavy.

A Breakthrough

So, there seems to have been a little bit of a breakthrough with things.  As many of you know, I've been talking about this "heaviness" and "darkness" that have plagued me, even though everything has been fine, and it's been incredibly frustrating.  Well, my therapist and a colleague or hers had this new theory and so they were going to try something new in therapy.

This theory sort of sounds a little silly, but bear with me.  So my therapist's colleague was calling it a "critter."  Her theory was that this "critter" creeped into my system when I was hurt and broken and just grew and grew, mostly absorbing any negative energy that was around me.  It also turns out that my self-harm part and suicidal part were inviting it in, but not consciously.  Both those parts have been around so long, they don't know what to do if that heaviness and darkness weren't there.  They also felt like I wanted to get rid of them, so I guess they kind of freaked out.  Which, to be far, I did want to get rid of them, but my therapist said I have to look at it a different way.  I have to accept that it's always going to have a place, and that it played a huge role in who I've become, but it doesn't need to actively work so hard. 

So in therapy, we worked on "expelling" this negative energy.  I had to do all these exercises to get those parts to let go of the heaviness and darkness and I had to expel it to the universe where it could be "cared for, but not get back into my system."  After we did this, I genuinely could feel a difference.  When I walked into therapy that day, the heaviness was at a 5ish, when I was done, it was more like 2 or even 1.  This isn't a "one and done" deal.  Anytime this negative energy tries to creep back in, I'm going to have to do some exercises to expel it.  And my self-harm and suicidal parts are so used to having to work so hard, they don't really know what to do.  Today, I felt better than I have for a long, long, time; probably ever actually.  It was a little tiring, I'm not used to feeling like that, so I had a lot of energy.  Those self-harm/suicidal parts/thoughts are still there a little bit, but they're there out of habit, and slowly, they should be less present.  I was feeling good at work today and was sharing some of this with one of my managers and he took a minute and celebrated with me and it felt nice lol.  Not just that I felt good, but that I've had managers who have been so supportive and caring that they celebrate in my victories with me.

Something else happened recently that was a HUGE step for me.  The Front Desk Manager position at our property recently became vacant.  As soon as I knew what happened, I immediately logged into my google account at work (I keep my resume on my google drive) and printed my resume.  I went back to my manager and handed it to her and said I wanted to be considered for the replacement.  She said they weren't going to be posting/filling the position for a little while until some other things settle down first, but I knew if I didn't do it then, I was going to lose my nerve.  I never put myself out there like that.  I've never had the confidence to do something like that either.  Every day I work, I try to take on some more responsibilities.  I've already started doing several things the previous FD manager was doing, I figure the more I know and the more I'm already doing when they make the decision, the better my chances of getting it.  Then this weekend, I talked to both my general and assistant managers and I asked them, "If you had to fill the position today, what concerns would you have about giving me the job?"  They both gave me some feedback, there wasn't anything major they seemed concerned about, but gave me some helpful comments, and since they're not filling the position for awhile, I have some time to work on anything they're concerned about :-)  All of this was a HUGE thing for me.  My therapist was really impressed and I'm really proud.  Even if I don't get the job, I'm okay with it.  This was so much progress for me, that I don't care if I don't get it.  (I mean I do care, but I'm okay with whatever happens lol)

Struggling With My Faith

I didn't realize it had been so long since my last blog post.  Things have been really frustrating lately.  Externally, everything is fine.  School is coming along, slowly but surely.  Work is GREAT, and I love my managers and coworkers.  I've been steadily losing weight over the past year.  But I still have this "heaviness" and "darkness" that are making me feel like crap.  My therapist has a new theory as to what's causing it, so she has a new strategy we're going to be starting soon.  Truthfully, I'm pretty much willing to try just about anything.

Anyways, there's something else that's been on my mind- I've really been struggling with my faith recently.  My mind is kind of all over the place with this, so I just want to try to sort things out.  For awhile now, I have felt abandoned by Heavenly Father and my Savior.  I feel like all my prayers, my crying pleas, everything has gone unheard.  I was trying to do everything I'm "supposed" to be doing, but the heaviness and darkness doesn't go away.  I get that it's not something that is necessarily to get taken away from me, but all I need is just a little bit of comfort, and I don't even get that.  It's left me frustrated and angry, and slowly making choices that are pushing me farther from the church.  It's like it's 10-12 years ago all over again.

When I was at the branch, before I moved to the ward, I was feeling left out, uncomfortable, and unwelcome.  I started to feel like the ward was where I was supposed to be, so I moved. (I think I wrote about this in a previous blog post.)  But now, I don't know.  I knew going into the family ward, it was gonna be different- but I'm the ONLY one in my current situation.  Meaning I'm the only single there that I know of; everyone else is married, most have kids, or are elderly singe.  So I'm stuck feeling left out again.  Then, between me being new, and the ward boundaries changing, no one even knows, notices, or cares if I'm not around.  One of my hopes going into the family ward was that I would have home and visiting teachers that would at least make contact with me occasionally.  I don't even need formal visits, I just need someone who occasionally texts me or checks up on me.  I was worried about being assigned teachers that I don't know or am not comfortable with, and I had a short list of who I'd be okay with as my home teachers.  Truthfully, I'd rather have home teachers I don't know/not comfortable with, but who make contact, than have none at all.  However, several months in and I have no idea who my home teachers are, they've never made contact with me.  My visiting teachers reached out once in just a "we're your visiting teachers" kind of way.  Even if I needed something, I wouldn't feel okay trying to ask them for help; and even if I knew who my home teachers were, if they're not contacting me, I'm certainly not going to be contacting them if I need help.  Someone mentioned that I should talk to the Bishop and find out who my home teachers are, but what's the point.  If someone says something to them, then they're just doing their home teaching because they're being guilted into it, and that's almost worse. 

So no one notices or cares if I'm at church or not.  I feel abandoned by Heavenly Father, and I'm left feeling completely alone.  Slowly, I stopped making it to church.  Then I'm just sitting at home on Sunday's feeling like crap.  So I changed my work schedule and instead of working Saturday mornings (which recently has been a struggle for me for some reason), I will be working on Sunday mornings, and I feel good/excited about it.  I think it'll be easier for me to handle stress wise, and now I won't be sitting at home alone all day feeling like crap. 

There are other choices I've been making recently that are also pushing me a little farther from the church, but I'm not going to go into it right now.

I'm sure at some point in the future I'll sort things out, but right now, I'm just left feeling completely alone.  Not even in regards to just church, but in my personal life as well.  Just really struggling.  I've just started the process of getting a cat, so I really hope that helps my depression some.  *crosses fingers*

When things are hard...

For some time, it seemed like things were going well.  I wasn't having too many bad days, and overall I was functioning pretty well.  For the longest time in therapy, we were working with this "little girl" part inside, and working through a lot of things with her.  Well, she seems to be doing fairly well recently, but we have unsurfaced a "teenaged" part of me, who is very intense and is carrying a lot of burdens and hurts.  While trying to help her let go of some of those burdens, we've had to go very slow, because it gets really overwhelming really fast.

So lately, things have been harder, and usually, it feels like it's for no reason.  About two weeks ago, one night when I was going to bed, I all of a sudden started sobbing.  I was up most of the night sobbing and couldn't stop.  The things in my mind were really dark and scary.  I finally fell asleep for a little bit, but I was a mess at work the next morning.  I had several breakdowns and just kept crying.  Thankfully, it was an admin day for me so I wasn't at the desk dealing with guests, I was just in the back office.  It was like that for a few days before it finally calmed down for a little while.  But then it started up again, just as suddenly.

Surely you can imagine how frustrating this is.  I went from feeling fine to sobbing in about 5 minutes.  I felt like I was being smothered by darkness and like something was holding my head under water and I was still supposed to find a way to breathe.  Every fiber of my being wanted to give up and quit; every fiber of my being wanted to end my life.  It was taking so much energy just to try to stay alive.  At some point, I just started to feel numb, which frankly might be worse than what I was feeling before.  And at the point, in addition to desperate desire to end everything, I was desperate to cut.  I ended up spending hours crocheting just trying not to pick up a tool and hurt myself.  It started back up a day or two ago, except instead of sobbing, it went straight to feeling numb, but the suicidal thoughts and wanting to cut are just as intense as ever.  Slowly, in addition to losing the energy and strength to keep fighting, I've started to lose any small desire I had to fight against it.  It's just too freakin tiring.

The longer this goes on, the more convincing my mind gets that no one would notice if I wasn't around.  Truthfully, most of the time, I'm the one who texts people first (I don't mean to reach out, I just mean in a general friendship way) because if I don't, I could go days without hearing from anyone.  You know what that tells my mind?  That if I didn't bother trying to keep up friendships/conversations/etc, that it wouldn't matter, no one would notice if I just stopped.  No one would notice if I didn't initiate the conversation, or if I didn't even respond.  At one point, there was a friend who knew if I didn't respond in a certain amount of time, it meant I was really struggling because I was beginning to shut down and isolate myself.  However, that time has passed as our schedules are busy and don't really match up anymore, so there isn't that person who has a sixth sense about how I'm doing.  (Which really, I don't actually expect anyone to be that for me, it's nowhere near fair to expect that of someone, but it was nice when it happened.)  So if I don't respond to people, if I don't initiate conversations, or didn't show up to things, etc, it simply wouldn't matter.  And work, it wouldn't matter.  If I didn't exist anymore, they'd just get fill those shifts and move on in a few days.  This is what my mind convinces me of, even if, logically, I know it isn't true, it FEELS true.  So I end up feeling alone and it makes all these feelings much much worse.

So, moving on to something else now.  I can't remember where I heard about the book, but I've been reading a book called "Furiously Happy: A Funny Book About Horrible Things" by Jenny Lawson.  The back cover describes the book as "...Jenny Lawson explores her lifelong battle with mental illness.  A hysterical, ridiculous book about crippling depression and anxiety?  That sounds like a terrible idea.  But terrible ideas are what Jenny does best."  It's been nice to read a book about experiences that I can relate to.  I recently underwent a slight medicine change for one of my antidepressants (which may have added to the recent issues I've had) and Jenny wrote a little bit about it that really struck a chord with me, so I wanted to share it. Some of what she shares is the exact reason why deciding to try medication for mental illness is so hard.

     "Being on medication for mental illness is not fun, nor is it easy, and no one I've ever known does it just for kicks.  Kids don't buy black-market Prozac to take to raves.  People don't use B12 shots as a gateway drug to heroin.  The side effects and troubles with taking medication are very real and (if you have a chronic mental illness) are something you have to deal with for the rest of your life.  Even if a drug is working for a while, it might stop working and you'll have to start all over again with something new, which can be incredibly frustrating and disheartening.  And then you have to deal with the side effects of the new drug, which can include 'feeling excessively stabby' when coupled with some asshole telling you that 'your medication not working is just proof that you don't really need medication at all.'  I can't think of another type of illness where the sufferer is made to feel guilty and question their self-care when their medications need to be changed.
     "When I went on my first antidepressant it had the side effect of making me fixated on suicide (which is sort of the opposite of what you want).  It's a rare side effect so I switched to something else that did work.  Lots of concerned friends and family felt that the first medication's failure was a clear sign that drugs were not the answer; if they were I would have been fixed.  Clearly I wasn't as sick as I said I was if the medication didn't work for me.  And that sort of makes sense, because when you have cancer the doctor gives you the best medicine and if it doesn't shrink the tumor immediately then that's a pretty clear sign you were just faking it for attention.  I mean, cancer is a serious, often fatal disease we've spent billions of dollars studying and treating so obviously a patient would never have to try multiple drugs, surgeries, radiation, etc., to find what will work specifically for them.  And once the cancer sufferer is in remission they're set for life because once they've learned how to not have cancer they should be good.  And if they let themselves get cancer again they can just do whatever they did last time.  Once you find the right cancer medication you're pretty much immune from that disease forever.  And if you get it again it's probably just a reaction to too much gluten or not praying correctly.  Right?
     "Well, no.  But that same, completely ridiculous reasoning is what people with mental illness often hear....not just from well-meaning friends, or people who were able to fix their own issues without medication, or people who don't understand that mental illness can be dangerous and even fatal if untreated...but also from someone much closer and more manipulative.
     "We hear it from ourselves."

Do you hear how crazy all that sounds?  Do you understand why mental illness is just as real and as serious as physical illnesses?  Can you imagine the journey we have to face when we deicde to try medication, or when we just become open about our mental illness; not just the things we endure from other people, but even from ourselves?!

2 years...

My blog posting has been a bit sporadic lately, but I need to get back into the swing of things.

It has now been a little over two years since I started therapy with my current therapist Karen and started to finally make some real progress.  There is still A LOT I am struggling with, and lately, things have been really rough.  We've been working with this "teenage" part and we've had to chip away at some of her burdens.  Some of her memories and burdens though are so intense, we can only do a little bit of work in each session before I end up getting completely overwhelmed and we have to stop.  I'm still having a lot of hard days, so sometimes it's hard to see the progress I've made.  But compared to two years ago:
-I'm not spending days in bed sleeping all day.  Even if all I do is move to the couch downstairs, I'm at least out of bed.
-I'm taking better care of myself
-I at least WANT to work on my school work more.  I still struggle to work on it because I'm often so mentally exhausted, but at least I want to
-I don't try to get covers at work quite as often as I used to
-My binge eating is almost completely under control and as a result, I've lost 60lbs, which is great
-I've slowly started to gain more confidence and self-esteem
-I'm putting more effort into trying to add exercising to my life
-I've worked through a lot of issues and memories and have been able to have a better relationship with my parents, that I never imagined I'd get to (though there's still some things I'm working through and still some things that happen, I've come a long way.)

Regardless of this though, every day I am fighting these massive demons, and it is completely mentally exhausting.  The demons of depression, anxiety, constant suicidal thoughts (even if they're just passive thoughts), thoughts of self-harm, etc etc etc.  It makes it hard sometimes to do other things.  Things have been lonely lately, people are busy, it's life.  And sometimes I find myself trying to isolate myself a little bit, which makes things worse.  I know I should try to find events and things to go to, to try to be social and meet new people, but that's pretty freakin terrifying when your anxiety is high.  I'm grateful that I've been able to become good friends with some coworkers and have been able to go out and do things with them.  I still often feel completely alone, and it's really a hard thing to feel.  Logically, I know I'm not, but it doesn't change the feeling.

And finally...yesterday marked the 2 year mark since I last hurt myself.  I know this is a big accomplishment, but it doesn't feel like one.  It doesn't feel like one because it's still a battle I have to fight EVERY SINGLE DAY.  It has not gotten any easier.  Every time I feel alone, I get angry, I'm upset, frustrated, etc etc, hurting myself is the very first thought.  I still have a tool or two that always sits in a pocket in my bag I carry, I can't bear to get rid of them.  I have to fight this demon every freakin day and it feels like those 2 years could go away any second.  The self-harm started when I was about 13 or 14, I've been struggling with it for 14-15 years.  There were times I couldn't even go a day without giving in.  There were times I managed to go days, weeks, or months without giving in.  One other time in this time frame I went two years, and then one day it was too much for me and I gave in.  I don't ever get a break from this, and sometimes it's just really exhausting.  Sometimes I go to bed insanely early simply because I don't have the energy to keep fighting it.  So even though I've hit this milestone and have this "accomplishment,"  I can never become complacent.  I have to fight it every day because it only takes a second to go away.  And quite frankly, not all of me even wants to fight it.  It's exhausting to fight, and things seemed like they were so much easier to handle when I had this method of coping.

Struggling with Faith

The past few months, I've really been struggling with my faith.  It's been really difficult and it's been weighing on my mind quite a bit, so I just need to write things out I guess.  I recently decided to make a permanent move from the University Branch, to the family ward, and it's directly related this struggle of faith I've had.  There's no one single reason why I decided this, there's a lot of reasons that factored into it, and I know a lot the reasons are even partly (or mostly) my fault.  I know the church is true...but beyond that...I don't really know where my place is in the gospel/applying it to my life.

It wasn't something that just suddenly happened- it's been growing for a few months now.  Since I'm pretty open about it nowadays, most of you know I struggle with severe depression and anxiety.  What has become more and more frustrating for me, is that because of the depression, I often can't feel the Spirit when I need to.  For the most part, I understand (and do my best to accept) that this clearly isn't something the Lord is going to take away from me.  For whatever reason, this is a trial I'm supposed to experience and continue to face.  What I get angry, frustrated, and confused about is that in my darkest moments, I can't feel the Spirit when I need it the most, when I just need a little bit of comfort.  This anger and frustration has been growing and growing.  I began to feel alone and abandoned.  I have felt like Heavenly Father and the Lord have left me all alone and don't hear my silent, or very vocal pleas for help.  The angrier I felt, the more frustrated I became, the more I felt alone, the less I would do the things I should- such as reading my scriptures and praying.  The less I did those things, of course, the more alone and frustrated I felt, which then resulted in doing those things less.  Vicious cycle continues...  I've always struggled a little bit with scripture reading, but saying my prayers wasn't usually a struggle.  But the less I did the things I was supposed to, the less I read my scriptures, the less I went to church, the more my mind convinced me that I SHOULDN'T pray.  Every time I thought about it, all I could hear was, "you haven't done squat lately, why would Heavenly Father do anything for you right now."  Yes, I "know" that's not how it works, but sometimes it's hard to realize that.

There was a situation last week, where I made the decision that I was going to drink- the temptation has been creeping up and growing for some time, and I just broke down and decided to give in.  I was out with friends from work, and I ordered a drink.  Got a couple of sips in and noticed a huge fly in my drink.  Flagged down the waitress and she was going to bring me another, but I was so turned off at the thought of having the same drink where the fly came from, I opted for something different (non-alcoholic).  In the moment, I know why that happened, and honestly, it's probably a good thing it happened.  BUT, it honestly made me really mad and upset-  "Heavenly Father can intervene when I'm going to make a not-so-wise decision, but I can't feel a thing in my darkest moments when I just need some comfort?!?!?!"  Uuuggghhh. 

Then I started struggling with going to church in general.  It became really overwhelming for me every week.  Not just because of all the things I was already struggling with, but also because I've been feeling out of place at church lately.  The problem is, my anxiety would get so high, that I didn't want to talk to people, unless I was really comfortable with them.  There were so many new people, so many forced introductions, so many people I was uncomfortable with, so I would avoid talking to people.  But then I would get mad and feel alone when people I was comfortable with wouldn't talk to me.  Ridiculous, right?  The thing is, overall, I was feeling left out, unwelcome, unaccepted; not just at church, but even in my personal life/friendships.  I know this is all mostly my own fault/doing, but still...it affected me.  As changes in the branch happened, people I was close with moved on, lots of new people moved in, home teachers changed, etc etc.  Home teachers that I was comfortable with and who kept in contact/visited, changed to home teachers that don't.  I know I'm not always someone who is up for official visits, but I always appreciate at least a little bit of contact, especially since I don't have many people I could ask for a blessing if I needed one. The last thing I'm going to do in a dark moment when I could use a blessing, is call up my home teacher(s) that I don't hear from.

Slowly, I've just started to feel like I've outgrown the branch, like it just isn't for me anymore.  Don't get me wrong, it's a great place, and I strongly believe it's an awesome place for students, young couples, etc and I think they'll do well there.  But I just feel like I don't belong there anymore, so I started thinking about going to the family ward.  I decided to try it out last week, and it seemed to go well, and I went again this past week too.  The family ward isn't necessarily ideal- it's hectic, there's tons of kids, it's hard to hear sometimes during sacrament meeting and it's filled with people who have known me since I was a kid, watched me grow up, Abe to be honest, it's sometimes a little awkward; but oddly, I kind of felt like it's where I needed to be.  So for all these things going on, I'm going to switch to the family ward, and I'm going to strive to get back on track with things.

RIP Chester Bennington

It's been a long time since I've written a blog post.  I keep thinking about writing one, and what I want to write about, but I ultimately don't write anything.  There has been a lot of things going on lately, a lot of things I've been feeling.  But this week, something awful happened.

This week, Chester Bennington from Linkin Park took his life.

I don't typically react to celebrity deaths, but I feel like I lost a close friend.  I was in TEARS after finding out.  Chester, and Linkin Park, got me through a lot of shit as a teenager.  Whenever I was in a dark hole, depressed, suicidal, or just upset in general, I would put on my headphones and blast Linkin Park.  For just a little while, I felt like someone understood, I felt like someone knew how I felt and that I wasn't alone.  I listened to them as I wrote angrily in my journal.  I listened to them as I sat in my closet crying all night.  I listened to them as I wrote more than one suicide note when I felt like I couldn't go on.  I listened to them as I hurt myself because it felt like the only way I could survive.

As I've gotten older, as I've worked more towards recovery and managing everything, I've listened to them, and some of my other "angsty" music (Staind, Sugarcult, The Used, etc etc etc) less and less because it starting to become really triggering, mostly just of all those memories.  About a month ago, I saw Linkin Park was going to be playing with Blink 182 in Hershey, so I asked for tickets for a friend and me to go as an early birthday present.  That concert was supposed to be next Sunday.

I am heartbroken.  I'm sad.  I'm angry.  But I can also relate, I've been in those places that are so bad it seems like ending your life is the only way out.  I've tried, twice.

For years, Chester, Mike, and the rest of Linkin Park got me through some of the hardest times.  I know I'm not the only one.  Chester was loved, and he is going to be missed so so much.  It's like a close friend is gone, and I keep crying over it.

Rest in Peace Chester.  We love you!  <3 <3 <3

Credit: Linkin Park

Whether I like it or not, depression can be a disability...

I've been thinking about this blog for several weeks now.  It's a topic I've struggled to face- disability.  Disability is generally defined as a physical or mental condition that limits a person's movements, senses or activities.  It's a condition that can get in the way of every day activities and functions.  I'm not saying that every case of depression is necessarily a disability, but yes, cases of moderate-severe depression can be considered a disability.  Recently, I've had to face this "label", and it hasn't been easy.

So a couple of months ago I made the decision to open up to my managers at work about the depression and anxiety.  The biggest reason I decided this was because I was really really struggling with working overnights, and I was constantly trying to find covers for my shift, and it just felt like it was time to say something.  Last time I tried to tell my managers what was going on (these were different managers a few years ago), it was a really bad experience, so I was terrified.  However, it ended up being really good, they've been really supportive and encouraging.  At one point though, my general manager decided to reach out to HR about everything as well, which I wasn't really expecting.  After a couple of meetings with someone in HR, she suggested that I get an ADA form filled out by my psychiatrist (ADA=American's with Disability Act).  She suggested this because it would help officially keep me off overnight (as my psychiatrist said it was getting in the way of my treatment), and in the event of a sudden leave (aka I go to the hospital or something, which was a possibility at the time because of some medicine changes (and really always is a possibility), that having this form filled out would help protect me.

I walked out of her office almost in tears.  I didn't want to be labeled as having a disability!  But why did I feel that way?  There is nothing wrong with that.  The whole process was suggested to help me, not to "punish" or "shame" me.  But it's the stigma that society has placed on this idea of disabled that I was afraid of.  (Kind of ironic that I try so hard to be vocal and fight against stigmas, but yet am afraid of it at the same time.)  In addition to this, I realized that if I am trying to get people to see that mental illnesses are just as real and valid as physical, then I have to accept that mental illness can also be a disability, and considering how debilitating mine can be at times, it is definitely considered a disability.

The good news about all of this, is that now I am legitimately not allowed to work the overnight shift anymore (yay!).  Right at the same time of all of this, the hotel lost quite a number of employees between people quitting and a few being fired, so now they're short staffed, including the audit shift (this happened literally the same week I turned in the ADA forms from my doctor, perfect timing!)  But now I work A shift, which is 7am-3pm.  At the very least, I help out with the first half of the shift and work 7-11am.  So I'm in the office Tuesday and Thursdays and at the front desk Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  My hours have gone from 16-20 hours a week, to 30+ hours a week.  It's been good, but mentally exhausting.  Since I've been able to stay on a regular routine and sleep schedule and get enough sleep and everything so thankfully, physically, I've been feeling okay.

I've also been in the process of getting some forms filled out for my school too.  Especially considering it's only been about a year and half since I've received really good treatment for everything, there are several years of school that I really struggled with, and I'm still struggling, so it's looking like I'm not going to be able to finish all my semesters by the final degree deadline.  As I was talking to the school about what options I had, they sent me an ADA form as well that I could fill out and submit along with a letter from my doctor/therapist to get an accommodation of more time if it turns out I need it.

I'm grateful for all of this, and I'm glad these options exist, but it's definitely been a journey to go through. :-/

Decisions

After the way I've been feeling the past two weeks, and the fact that therapy had been canceled last week, I knew my therapy session yesterday morning was going to be a bit intense.  I shared with Karen all the thoughts that had been plaguing my mind, and that I couldn't seem to find an external trigger for me.  We decided to do some EMDR to see if there was anything that would come up that needed cleared out, and really, nothing did. 

I've worked through a lot of things over the past 14ish months, and even though there still some small things from the past I'm working on, overall, things are mostly okay.  Those suicidal and self-harm part were reacting to the depression itself.  As we talked about this, Karen asked me about when my dosage was increased on my current medicine (Effexor) and when I had originally started it etc etc and also when my next appointment with Dr. K is (my psychiatrist.)  After all of this, Karen strongly believes that my medicine is having the opposite effect it's supposed to and is doing more harm than good. 

The problem is, Dr. K is pretty adamant about not taking me off the Effexor because of the withdrawal symptoms, which is understandable, but it's what I wanted when I first started seeing her and I feel like she doesn't listen to what I need.  Not to mention she's not very personable.  I don't really like her and I was thinking of switching anyways, it's just hard to find one who accepts my insurance.  Karen said she had heard some good things about this other place and she's pretty sure they accept my insurance, so I'm going to try to get in there so I don't have to see Dr. K anymore. 

Here's where the "decision" aspect comes in.  Karen strongly recommends that when come off the Effexor, that I go to an inpatient facility.  She the withdrawal symptoms are really bad, and the things I already experience, she wants me to be able to be in a safe, controlled, monitored environment, without the possibility of external distractions causing problems.  I get it, and it's probably the best thing to do, but she said I would probably be in there for a week.  Just the thought of going kind of terrifies me, but for a whole week?  1. That's a week of hours at work that I can't really lose.  Though I'm feeling better about my budget and where I am financially, I still can't really afford to lose a week of pay.  2. Just the thought of it feels kind of isolating.  I mean, I know there's people there and all this other stuff, but I wouldn't get to see or talk to a majority of my friends.  Sure, most places have limited visiting hours, but the likelihood that those hours would be convenient (or that the location would be convenient) is very very slim.  Yes, these are "superficial" things that I shouldn't really be concerned about when it comes to do what is best for my mental health, but they're still there.  And truthfully, they're more like "excuses" to cover the fact that it kind of scares me.  I'm waiting to hear back from this new office and hopefully get to see a new psychiatrist soon.  Maybe she'll have some ideas of taking me off of the Effexor that don't involve going to a facility for a week.

Anyways, things are still really rough.  I've been physically exhausted from having to fight everything mentally.  I just have this general feeling of not wanting to be alive.  I feel drained.  I feel alone.  I'm hurting.  I'm angry.  I'm frustrated.  I'm discouraged.  All the things that I keep saying over and over and every time they come out of my mouth, it feels like they have less and less meaning; both to me, and the people who are hearing/reading them.  I don't really know how to describe what I'm feeling right now.  Like a deflated balloon several days after a party that's losing air and just falling to the ground. 

Crisis

How do I describe how I've been feeling lately? I feel like I've been in some intense, deep, dark "funk", so to speak. I'm not sure what else to call it. Compared to just the recent depression (meaning just the kind of overall affect it has on me after considering all the progress I've made in therapy), and compared to the other bouts/episodes of depression that when I sink lower than that general affect, this is much much worse. But at the same time, I have felt this awful before, so it's not worse than something I've felt in the past. Does any of this make sense?


It's been this way for a little over a week now. It seemed to start Thursday or so last week. As far as I can tell, nothing externally has triggered it. Most of the time, all I can think about it how much I want to hurt myself or end my life. I've been trying not to shut down, and I've still been trying to be around people and reach out to people, but you know...life happens. People are busy. I understand; this is why there is more than one person in my "support network". But that's not all that's happening. In addition to people being busy, I'm struggling to reach out in the first place, and even when I do, I tend to make light of what I'm feeling because I'm kind of afraid to let people know the truly dark things that have been going through my mind recently. So what happens then is that I feel alone. Like a gut wrenching, heart breaking feeling of being alone, and it kind of makes everything I'm feeling even worse.


Then therapy was canceled this week because roads were icy Wednesday morning and my therapist couldn't make it over the mountain. What a sucky week for that to happen.


I'm also back on overnights once a week, which is frustrating. It's not the managers' fault, they tried to get me off Night Audit, but one of the auditors quit. So last Friday was the first one I was scheduled off, and she quit on Saturday. UGH. I'm not mad AT my managers, but it's hard not to feel angry and frustrated about it.


These self-harm and suicidal parts have been so active, so loud, so relentless. They're beating and wearing me down. I don't have much energy. I'm hurting. I'm in pain. I'm so angry and discouraged and I feel completely hopeless. I recently got over a sinus infection, and as I was getting better (before this "funk" started), I stocked up on cold and sinus medicine cause I often get sick when I don't have a lot of extra cash to get medicine. I had a bunch of coupons so I stocked up on cough, cold, and sinus medicines and such. Now I'm seeing that probably wasn't the smartest idea. I should probably be smart/safe about it and have someone hold on to it. But, at the same time, it kind of makes me feel better to know it's nearby.


Every single fiber of my being is fighting against me. Everything in my head is screaming at me to give up. Convincing me that nobody would notice, or care, if I weren't here. Convincing me that people would be so much better off without having the burden of my presence in their life. And for the past week, it's all I've been able to think about. I'm angry, frustrated, discouraged and I feel like there's no other way out of all of this. It feels unbearable. I don't have any energy to keep "holding on", trying to stay alive completely drains everything I have. I haven't been able to do a whole lot lately, and even when I do, I only have enough energy to go through the motions. I'm desperate for relief and there doesn't seem to be any other way to get it.

1 year and lots of anger

I have been feeling so frustrated and angry lately, not to mention discouraged.

I'm angry that I've been working so freakin hard to overcome so much but that depression/dark part is still so strong, so present, so heavy and so disruptive.  I have made so much progress in therapy over the past year.  There is so much that is different, but yet this darkness is still there.  We've established in therapy that this is the depression itself and at this point, there isn't really anything that my "parts therapy" is going to help, so now it's up to medicine.  But that's been pretty frustrating too, I'm not real pleased with my new psychiatrist.  So a little background information, I've tried a number of anti-depressants with no real long-term results.  About half of those were when I was a teenager, which I make sure I mention to new doctors because I know anti-depressants can have a different effect on teenagers and young adults, than it does when you're a little older.  So when I started with her, I was on a medicine called Effexor.  Dr. K talked about how hard it is to come off of that medicine because of the withdrawals and that she wanted to avoid doing that.  She saw my history and noted a have had a binge eating disorder and she immediately prescribed "Vyvanse."  She said it was supposed to help the binge eating, even though I was very specific and clarified that the binge eating wasn't really an issue anymore.  It still happens occasionally, but not enough to be classified as a B.E.D. right now.  But she said it was a stimulant and it would help with my depression too.  I was able to get a free one month supply, but my insurance wouldn't pay for it, so I was only on it for a month.  My last appointment earlier this week, she decided before she tried adding another medicine again, she was just going to up the dosage of my current medicine.  So now I'm at the highest dosage of a medicine that is apparently really hard to come off of.  I'm not thrilled at the moment.  Honestly, if I had realized how hard it would be to come off when my regular doctor first prescribed it, I might have said no.  My therapist has actually mentioned that she probably wouldn't want me coming off of it unless I was in the hospital or something where I can be in a safe, monitored environment, especially with how much I've been struggling with my self-harm and suicidal parts.

Speaking of self-harm, Tuesday marked 1 year since I last hurt myself.  I know this is supposed to be an accomplishment, but it hasn't really felt like it.  It's still a daily struggle to fight against that part, and it still feels like any day that 1 year mark could go away.  It hasn't gotten any easier and it's just so discouraging.  I'm not sure how I feel about it all.  My therapist said I should celebrate, but I don't really feel like it.

A few posts ago, I mentioned something about starting some neurofeedback.  It's officially going to be starting in the next week or two.  It's not something insurance pays for, and it can be expensive, but Karen (therapist) said that for someone like me who has been really committed to treatment and recovery, they're going to do it free of cost.  I'll actually be one of the first one's at that office to do it. It's supposed to help re-wire my brain and shift it's responses and stuff.  I'll wear sensors on my head and I'll probably be going twice a week.  I really hope it does something.  I'm desperate for some relief.

Lastly, on just a random note; I've started writing some poems recently.  I tried writing poems when I was in high school, but I always felt like they weren't that great.  But recently, a friend got me interested in giving it a try again.  It's also a way to try to express myself in a different way, because lately I've been feeling really like everything I say has become repetitive and meaningless.  I've posted a couple of the poems on Facebook, all but one, but I don't know if I'll end up posting them all on facebook or not.

How are you?

I've been wanting to write a blog post for a week or two now.  But what to say?  I feel like lately, everything I say is repetitive, and meaningless.  There was an article recently talking about the struggle of lying/telling the truth when someone asks you how you are?

"When someone, who I care about and who cares about me, asks how I am doing, it is even more complicated. What runs through my mind is: Right now, do they really want the truth? Do they have the time or the energy for it? Do I? Can they handle the truth? Do they think at this point I am being dramatic with them because they see me interacting with other people as if I don’t have a care in the world? Am I becoming (or have I been) a burden with my prolonged need for support to this person?I’m so tired of hearing myself talk about the crap going on in my head. I bet they are too.
. . .
"This lie makes me much more pleasant to be around. Conversation doesn’t need to focus on my issues. I am the only one overtly affected by my depression. It just seems simpler. Not so healthy, but definitely easier on everyone except me.
There are many times I wish I could go back to my old standard response. Yet, alas, I have opened Pandora’s box. Being authentic after years of creating a multi-layered mask is like navigating my way through treacherous waters in a row boat. I am constantly being tossed around in the waves, and I feel like I am going to be thrown out at any second."

This is almost exactly how I've been feeling lately.  When someone asks me how I am, how do I answer?  Is it a brief, passing, polite "how are you"?  In which case, I definitely don't tell the truth.  Are they being sincere, but is it someone I'm comfortable with?  What if it's someone I've already opened to a lot, someone I reach out to a lot?  Do they really want to hear it again?  Am I burden?  If I tell them the truth, which is the same response it's been for months, will they even believe me anymore?  Or have my words become completely and ridiculously repetitive and meaningless.

Then move on to the next part I quoted.  There used to be a time where I worked really hard to try to hide everything going on.  I didn't trust people, I didn't open up.  Maybe I wasn't perfect at hiding it all, but it was something.  But now?  Now I actively try to be vocal about it and try to be an "advocate" (so to speak) against the stigma of mental health.  But it really is like opening a Pandora's box. Sometimes I wish I could back to hiding.

There have been a lot of things I've been feeling recently.  I still have to continually deal with these suicidal and self-harm parts.  Every fiber of my being is telling me to give in to them.  It would be easier.  I'd feel relief.  I'd feel in control.

I'm tired.  I'm tired of having to fight again those parts.  I'm tired of dealing with the depression, anxiety, and OCD.  It beats me down and it wears on me.  I'm just freakin tired.  I'm angry.  I'm discouraged.  I work so hard and I do my best to try to manage, fight, and beat this crap.  I'm doing all this stuff and it's like it's not even doing anything!  Still have difficulties with my medication and that causes it's own set of problems.

I just can't do it anymore.  I don't have the strength, I don't have the energy, I don't have the motivation.

Therapy Shake Up

Well, therapy was interesting this week.

So for awhile now, we've been trying to work with this "dark part" that's been present.  This part is what the suicidal and self-harm part try to protect me from.  This is also a part that I've never been able to visualize separate from myself like I do the other parts, and when we try to "work with it" in therapy, I never seem to get anything from it.  It's a heavy, overwhelming darkness that feels like it has seeped into my entire being.  Sometimes it's not quite as dark as other times, but right now, it's really bad.  I've made a lot of progress in therapy, and there are definitely a lot of things that are different than they were a year ago.  I've been trying to do everything I can and everything I'm supposed to be to the best of my ability.  This has included church stuff, going to work, doing school, getting out of bed and out of my bedroom/apartment, reaching out to others and being social when I can, doing things like yoga and some other exercise when I can, therapy and medicine etc etc etc.  Despite all of this, that dark part won't go away.  Finally, Karen (therapist) concluded that this dark part is the depression itself, it's the brain chemistry; and while there's a lot we can do with working with my parts, this is something that parts therapy isn't going to help.

Time for a shake up...

First Karen is going to run an IVA test.  She said it's done on the computer and when I hear/see a 1, I click the mouse, and when I hear/see a 2, I DON'T click.  Apparently they can tell a bunch of stuff from that.  She's going to be in contact with Dr. K (psychiatrist) to talk about my medicine.  Dr. K was avoiding taking me off my current medicine because of the withdrawal symptoms, but depending on what this test shows, she may end up having to change it.  Then, she wants to start doing neurofeedback.  She said they attach sensors to my head and they will teach/train my brain to respond to certain things?  She didn't go into much detail about it, since it was the end of the session.  I've been trying to do a little research.  From what I've been able to read, (and someone can correct me if I'm wrong), the idea is that the neurofeedback trains patients to have better handle/control of their emotions.  This abstract here has some more information (I haven't gotten through all of it) http://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0038115

Karen said it'll be done right there at the office, so I asked if it was "charged" to the insurance the same way as a therapy session.  She said it's actually something insurance doesn't pay for at all and they offer it as an "add-on" service (it's still fairly new for them to offer) but they're working on a plan for patients who have been working hard and haven't been responding to other things (such as medicine and therapy) and this is really the next course of action, they're planning on offering it free of charge.  So she said it wasn't going to cost me anything, which is a huge blessing, because I imagine it's not cheap.

In the meantime, I've grown more desperate and more discouraged.  I'm trying to keep my ahead above water, but I'm really struggling.  I'm really grateful for all the friends I have around me supporting and encouraging me.  They're definitely helping me to stay afloat.  Thank you.

New Medicine and Treatment Resistant Depression

So, I saw the new psychiatrist on Friday.  First a nurse called me back to do weight/blood pressure and other stuff.  Then she did a suicide risk assessment again.  Well, I learned my lesson the last time.  I was honest, but I wasn't as honest as I was the first time; there was no way in the world I was dealing with all that again.

So after that, I met with Dr. K.  She was nice enough I guess, but she wasn't very personable.  Anyways, here's the deal.  The medicine I'm currently on (Effexor) is apparently really hard to come off of because there are a lot of withdrawal symptoms; so even if I do some off of it, it'll take awhile because I'm at a higher dosage and you have to come off of it slowly.  We also talked about some of the other medicines I've tried before, and she said based on those, she's not sure what she would prescribe because I've tried anti-depressants from different categories.  (I made sure to mention that at least a couple of those medicines were taken when I was younger (teenage years) so I'm not sure if my body would respond the same way to them now.  I know anti-depressants have different effects in teenagers than they do in adults, so I figured she would want to know in case she wanted to retry one of them.)  So she decided to add a prescription for now: Vyvanse.  So Vyvanse is supposed to treat ADHD, but it is also supposed to help treat BED (Binge Eating Disorder).  It's supposed to help decrease the number of binge days.  I've also been having a really hard time focusing lately (and getting very little school work done), so it should help with that too.  It's a stimulant and thought to work by restoring the balance of certain neurotransmitters in the brain, which means it should help some with the depression as well.  We'll see what happens.  We'll also see about insurance.  When I got the prescription filled, the pharmacy said my insurance required prior authorization for this medicine, so they were gonna fax the doctor.  But I also had a card from the information packet my doctor gave me for a free 30 supply and then another card for a 30-day supply for $15 for 12 months.  So I gave them that too.  I was also getting my other medicines filled, so I was waiting about half an hour and when I paid, this particular medicine didn't cost me anything, but they also gave me back the card for the free month supply.  So I'm not really sure if they got the authorization that fast, or if they just used the card.  But I looked at the packet from the pharmacy and it's originally almost $330!!!!  Wow.

Anyways, this visit with Dr.K has me a little concerned.  There's a thing known as TRD- Treatment Resistant Depression.  What is exactly defined as TRD is up for a debate a little bit, but it's basically defined as a case of depression that doesn't respond to anywhere from two to at least four different antidepressants from different classes. (http://www.webmd.com/depression/guide/treatment-resistant-depression-what-is-treatment-resistant-depression#1) Basically, it's not easily treated.  It takes a lot longer to find a good combination of treatments (between medicine, therapy and lifestyle changes) and it's even possible that no combination will fully treat it.  That's what worries me.  I've made a lot of progress in therapy.  There have been a lot of things that are different from a year ago, but those dark, self-harm, and suicidal parts are still so active and present.  These are the parts that have become unbearable for me.  What if there isn't a way to fully get relief from them? :-/

Something else we're going to try to add to my treatment is an emotional support animal (a cat) but because my apartment complex has a very strict no-pet policy (not even the option to pay for a deposit), it's going to be more difficult because I have to get a letter from my therapist (and maybe even my psychiatrist if I want to have more to provide the apartment office with) and possibly have to fight the complex about it.  Also, I'm not sure yet if I'd be able to afford to have a cat (though I think I can make it work), or if all my roommates would be okay it, even if it's in my room most of the time.  There are also some neurostimulation  treatments that have become available and a little bit more common.  Something like that would take a LOT of research and consideration and a lot of talk with my doctors and therapist.

Things are just really frustrating and I'm getting really discouraged.  I hope the added medicine will have some affect.

EDIT:  So I know that legally the apartment will have to let me have an emotional support animal, but I suspect they will still try to fight it initially, especially because most people/places aren't familiar with the laws around an ESA.  Thankfully, my current therapist is pretty familiar with it.  My old therapist didn't really have any information and was hesitant to write a letter because then it goes into writing that I'm "disabled"  (which technically, I am) and she didn't know who all would have access to the letter, even though I signed a release that she could give information.  She did write a letter, but it didn't really have the information in it that I needed it to to be able to take to the office.

Tired of fighting

***Trigger Warning***Not sure if it needs it, but this is kind of a heavy post (I feel like it is anyways) and there is talk about suicide and self-harm***

Sometimes I'm just tired of fighting.

I've been making progress in therapy, and I've been taking some positive steps, even my therapist has commented about how proud she is.  But despite all that, there is this overwhelming and heavy darkness that is just attached me to me; a part of me.  I have yet to be able to visualize this "part" separate from myself.  In response to this particular part, my "fire fighter" parts, especially the self-harm and suicidal parts, become very active.  Since this dark part never seems to fully leave, it means those fire fighter parts are always active.  I know they're trying to protect me, but I still have to somehow actively fight against them.  It wears me out.  It leaves me exhausted, emotional, and feeling vulnerable.  It just seems to much easier to let them all win.  I'm tired of holding on and hanging in there.  I'm tired of having to spend almost 100% of my energy trying to function, or hell, just trying to stay alive!  I've been feeling lonely and angry.

There's a quote by David Foster Wallace that I think I've shared before, but it goes:

“The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.”

This is how I feel.  This is explains why I have these fire fighter parts.  I'm more afraid of the flames than I am of the jump.  Those fire fighter parts try to protect me by giving me a way to get away from the flames.  But the thing is, I'm not "supposed" to be participating in those either.  I'm not "supposed" to end my life and I'm not "supposed" to hurt myself.  So not only do I have to try to fight the darkness/flames, but the very thing that is supposed to help, isn't an easily acceptable solution.  It's been almost 10 months since I last hurt myself.  I know that's supposed to be a good thing, but it just doesn't feel like it.  Why?  Because I have to fight against it every single freaking day.  I know it doesn't make sense to a lot of people, but hurting myself provides some relief.  It makes that darkness a little more tolerable, it makes it a tiny bit easier to fight to get through to the next day, it makes me feel in control.  I am sick of fighting against these parts!!!  I'm tired from it.  I don't have the strength and I don't have the energy to keep doing it right now.

Sorry for the post, I just haven't been able to get this stuff out, despite how much I've tried, and I just really needed to get it out.  I know that the Savior and Heavenly Father have not abandoned me, but I feel alone.  I've been wanting to ask for a blessing, but I always seem to struggle with that, even when I'm comfortable with the person.  I feel unworthy and undeserving of help.  Or worried that I'll bother someone.

*deep breathes*  :-/  :'(