I’ve told everyone before that I won’t really show any pictures of my daughter so here is a picture of her without a face. I bought her that shirt at the event. I never thought I could loves someone as much as I love her. She cried as we held up our beads with pride on Sunday.
She makes me proud and I love everything about her but I’m amazed through everything she is a good person and that’s all I ask for.
I am not particularly fond of Halloween I find it triggering and annoying. People don’t realize pretending to be a psych patient isn’t funny especially when you’ve been there. It isn’t the young kids that bother me it is the older ones who really fuck things up. My daughter wanted to be a zombie doctor which I don’t care for. I can’t watch Walking Dead or any other zombie apocalypse movies because it causes severe anxiety and stirs up some bad thoughts. This is guaranteed to cause issues with psychosis and some long sleepless nights that involve jumbled talking and pacing. Halloween triggers some bad things for people like me so being courteous to people like us is wonderful.
Let’s start with this none of these “Horror Films” actually scare me but they do mess with my brain. I don’t do blood, guts and gore just because my stomach can’t handle it, but as far as movies like The Conjuring, The Nun movies like that I love watching them not because it scares me but it starts to make me about paranoid. I think a lot of them have good story lines and I enjoy them but they do mess with my head especially with my dreams. There isn’t anything in any of these movies that are scarier then what is already in my head and if filmmakers want some seriously fucked up shit I am willingly to share it with them for the right price. People seem to enjoy these types of fucked up things.
Here is what happens; I watch/listen to the movies and don’t think much of it meanwhile the man finds this as ammunition to use later. He takes the images and distorts them into something that no person who has never experienced these, could ever write about. I struggle everyday with dreams and I know I am making it worse on myself tonight. My dreams are already fucked up. The man started talking to me yesterday and I wonder if he is egging this on right now. He isn’t a good person the man. So let’s see what happens tomorrow.
First let me say I DID IT!!!! All 31 days it was challenging at times but I did learn something’s about myself in the process.
Ok…. weird quirks of mine. My illness does that count??
~ I bite my lip when I get anxious
– I hear voices and sounds all the time
– I hallucinate almost every night
– I can swallow multiple pills at once
– When my anxiety gets really bad and I start to hear the man I pace back and forth talking to myself
– I can’t take Ativan which is odd
– I am terrified of heights
– If you start to tickle me it turns into an anxiety attack
– I can’t hide in places because of anxiety
– I have crippling anxiety
– I don’t like to use the word hate it is a waste of an emotion
– I can’t stop swearing it is part of my everyday activity
That’s it unless you want me to go through everything with my illness
It’s been real 31 day challenge
🖤
Here is the link some of you asked for to donate to my walk! It is on Sunday in Atlanta Georgia!! It is for a good cause!
https://afsp.donordrive.com/participant/1591896
I decided to end my life in 1994. It was my first year of high school and I just couldn’t do it anymore. It wasn’t a snap decision. It wasn’t prompted by a rejection from a boy, or a bad grade, or anything in particular. There may have been a trigger, I honestly don’t remember, but the decision to end my life had been a long time coming, despite my (then) short time on earth.
At 14, I had been living with depression and anxiety for a decade. At an age when most people start trying to figure out who they are and where they belong, my quest for an identity was shrouded in confusion and self-loathing. It’s true, no teenager probably feels “normal.” Feeling angsty and out of place is a right of passage on the road to adulthood. But for me, I didn’t even know what “normal” was supposed to feel like, and I was keenly aware that I never would.
So, in a moment of particularly intense feelings of hopelessness, I decided to take my own life.
But I didn’t do it. I thought about how it would crush my parents, and I couldn’t bring myself to follow through on it in that moment. I decided to put it off for a day.
I’d like to tell you that this moment was a rock bottom or an epiphany, and that after deciding not to kill myself that day, everything changed for the better. I wish it had been a momentary point of weakness that prompted me to see life anew and that I never thought of doing something so drastic ever again.
But the truth is, every day since has been a conscious decision to put it off one more day. I have been suicidal for 23 years, but I have not attempted suicide. There is this idea surrounding being suicidal that a person is always in imminent danger of harming themselves, and while that is the case for some people, being suicidal takes on many forms.
This is what suicidal looks like for me. Only a handful of times have I been genuinely concerned that I might take the actions necessary to end my life. It’s almost never about wanting to die. Instead, it’s the comfort in knowing that I could if I needed to. If it gets to be too much, if I can’t hang on for one second longer, I don’t have to, and the knowledge that I could choose to die gives me the strength to continue living.
The last time I cried…… I try not to cry often mostly because I am an ugly crier and when I say ugly crier I mean it could be a Halloween costume. I don’t cry in front of people because I am weird about crying. It seems like an intimate version of yourself that shouldn’t be publicized with strangers. I don’t know if it is because of everything I’ve dealt with or because I’m just genuinely weird about these things. Please note I will not make you cringe by saying things like, “I don’t cry because it makes you weak, I am too strong to cry, I have no feelings, I’ve dealt with too much in my life to cry….” You get what I mean. I don’t believe any of that shit those are just things you tell yourself to justify your feelings because you are a little bitch who won’t man up and deal with your shit…. yeah that is the pot calling the kettle black but I don’t avoid crying for those reasons. I think it is okay to cry sometimes we need to cry it’s like releasing a valve in our body so it doesn’t overheat and kill you. I don’t want anyone to snap because I’ve snapped before and it wasn’t healthy at all. I’ve tried to learn through all of my years of therapy healthier ways to handle my shit, but I guess I didn’t pay attention because pills became my best friend. I am working on it though, writing to you guys always helps a great deal.
Now the last time I cried, it was in my sleep it is usually in my sleep because I have fucked up dreams that scare the shit out of me almost all the time. I wake up crying and that is always fun to do. The sad part is I can’t always remember why I am crying the good part is no one sees me ugly cry. The last time I actually cried for something other than my fucked up dreams was around my birthday when I was dealing with my mood shit and my husband had stuff to do that day and we were going to celebrate a little and then do something that weekend but I was dealing with mood shit and completely exaggerated the situation. (If you are reading this then I am in no way saying you were right.) I kept crying and I have no idea why probably because I just needed to cry, but I can’t always just cry because I need to I need to have a reason so I can’t always blame it on my illness. My illness isn’t as special as it thinks it is. I struggle with this version of myself a lot. I wish I could make heads or tails of it but I get confused most times. My illness is a bitch.
This is me after crying. I have a picture of me while crying but sometimes you don’t need to see something scary. Why did I take a picture of me after I cried because randomly decide to make myself cringe with stupid things such as this.
What makes me feel better?
🖤 Sweatshirts and hoodies- Who doesn’t love a big comfy sweatshirt to snuggle up with.
🖤 Family Guy- When I’ve had a rough day turning on Family Guy will always make me laugh no matter how many times I’ve seen the episodes.
🖤 Music- This sounds so cliche but it does. I have a playlist of songs for each emotion. Sometimes it doesn’t help the mood then sometimes it does just kind of depends on how I am feeling at the moment.
🖤 My car- I feel bad for my steering wheel it has received a lot of shit over the years. Whenever I’m mad I beat the shit out of it or I hug it if I am crying. It is also my swear box because whenever I get mad I let it all out in my car. There have been so many times that my husband has told me to leave because of a mood and I get in my car and fly off usually to the same places, but not before losing my shit in my car.
🖤 My hiding places- No one knows where they are for a reason. I go to them when I am suicidal mostly because there is no cell reception so it is harder to track them. I also go to them when I am not suicidal because again no cell reception so I can chill the fuck out and let the rage wash away.
🖤 Peppermint- I love peppermint and it is good for anxiety also good for night terrors.
🖤 My book- I can live in that moment with Lauren for awhile. When bills are piling up and I don’t know what I am going to do and my world feels like it is falling apart going to her world makes me feel better but I don’t think it is very healthy.
🖤 My husband and daughter- When I’ve had a bad day curling up with them watching a movie or helping cook always make me feel better.
🖤 Writing- I’ve learned that I am better expressing myself writing rather than speaking. I get mad and all my words jumble together and I make no sense, but if I write it down I can make sense of it all. This would be why my husband has so many long texts from me.
🖤 Snapchat- My daughter and I playing on Snapchat always makes me feel better I guess it has something to do with those weird filters and making her laugh. I love when she laughs. It makes my soul smile.
🖤 Bathrooms- It is the damndest thing. I have a paranoid anxiety about public bathrooms but when I am anxious I will lock myself in a bathroom to calm down. I don’t know if it is the safety of the space or the fact that it is pitch dark but it works.
🖤 Water- There is a song called Water that I am obsessed with also staring at a shower head or soaking in the tub in the dark makes me feel better.
🖤 Fans- When my husband gets really pissed at me and tells me to “CALM THE FUCK DOWN” I go lay in the bedroom turn the ceiling fan on fall asleep and then I’m fine.
🖤 Not food- My anxiety keeps me from eating, usually because I get bubble guts or the need to vomit.
Here is a picture of my keys in my car because well…. it is my safe place.
This is going to be a short post because I have so many favorite blogs. All of the blogs I follow are in the pictures below. I forget to like your posts but I read them all often. Just keep posting people. 🖤🖤🖤
To Whom It May Concern:
I’m suicidal. And no, it’s not what you think. I am safe. I am not harming myself. I do not have a plan, and I do not plan on doing anything. But I’m suicidal. And I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t.
People think of things like suicide in such black or white terms. But much like everything else we are so quick to place into categories, being suicidal falls into a gray area for me. Sometimes, I wonder if it does for anybody else. See I can be in a really great mood, right? I could be having the best day of my life. Still, suicidal thoughts will linger. I don’t have to be in a bad mood to be suicidal. I will still have those thoughts if I’m surrounded by the people I love, or if I’m doing something I’m passionate about.
I wake up most mornings thinking I’d be better off dead. But I’m quickly distracted by my husband and son, who are sound asleep next to me. I still feel it, but I try not to give power to it. Throughout the day I am faced with challenges that directly affect my subconscious. Either the suicidal thoughts get louder, or they remain just a feeling.
I should explain better; sometimes being suicidal is different than suicidal thoughts. It’s an actual feeling. The feeling that you have an itch you can’t scratch, that a dark cloud is shrouding you. It’s anxiety and depression, it’s mixed state. You’re drowning, there’s no air, and coming down from that feeling takes so long you think it’s impossible. You have blinders on and you don’t know what’s going to happen next. You just have to push through. And while this feeling is happening, you go through your day, as normal as you can, without feeding the feeling.
Some days are harder than others, and today happens to be one of those days. I know I’m not feeling good, and I’ve taken that into account. But I woke up thinking my family is better off without me. Then I started thinking about finances and my heart sunk a little more. I started thinking about my parents and my depression got worse. And I started thinking about everything my husband does so I can test a career in writing, and God, he can do better than me. It’s not fair to him. If I can’t impress the people surrounding me now, can I face how my son will inevitably feel about me? And I just start crying, because it’s all too much, and I’m just a joke. I feel like I’m drowning, over and over and over again. It would be so much easier to end things, and my family could finally get away from how terrible I am.
♥ Daisies and Bruises ♥ 