Somewhere between 2Pac and Valerie Carter, drenched in sweat at a 7.5 incline with 2.8 speed my brain and I had a come to Jesus meeting. I’ve struggled the last couple of weeks last week being the worst with my depression. I’ve also hid it the best that I could and if you’ve dealt with mental health issues for as long as I have you know how to turn your illness into a “migraine” “stomach virus” or any other physical illness because saying, “I’m depressed.” Comes with so many questions you just don’t want to answer because for some reason you just can’t be depressed without a reason. I never understood why that is I think it’s just a stigma people don’t realize. (That’s another topic.)
I said things to myself that if anyone who didn’t struggle with this said to me it would piss me off. “You’ve dealt with worse. You’ve got to suck it up we’ve done so well with avoiding melt downs. I know right now working out feels like torture but you have to just sitting around the house makes it worse. Last week sucked but this week we are going to do better. We are going to shower more than once, brush our hair and teeth every day. Get out of bed on time put on makeup because we always feel better when we do. I know you hate it but you might have to force that smile. You around people who aren’t use to you and don’t know what you are going through maybe if they did they would treat you better but I doubt it. You are a badass who went through a complete breakdown, overdose got kicked out of the house, detoxed and never missed a day of work even if you were late. I know you can do it you just have to focus. It’s hard to focus but I need you to try. You have stereotyped yourself so much you want to punch yourself in the face but I know what you are capable of and I know what you’ve been through this isn’t something you need to worry anyone else with because you can do this. I love your crazy ass and the fact that I can say that now is a huge improvement. Just fight it okay.” That sums up the conversation I had with myself. I left out some of the swears and other personal details but I have learned to love myself some and I think that makes times like these easier.
Who isn’t scared of the Coronavirus because you survived so many overdoses and with all the medication you’ve taken, stuff you snorted, manic episodes and all the other reckless ways you’ve lived your life that you should suffer some permanent damage but Gods got a good sense of humor spared you and survived you have this fuck it attitude. If I can take so many benzodiazepines I should’ve died at least 15 times if not more survived withdrawals while working, managed manic episodes without being hospitalized and managed to keep a sliver of sanity. So I’m not worried about the Coronavirus. If I’ve survived life this far a virus isn’t going to scare me.
For everyone who is suffering from or died because of the virus my heart goes out to you.
What dumbass thinks going back to an environment that was toxic and caused unbearable stress is a good idea because you miss it and you can’t just be normal because you aren’t normal and you are having mental health issues without it but will probably have more with it but it was the only thing you had to cling onto when it got bad even though it just made everything worse and enabled bad habits but again you are a dumbass who doesn’t think decisions through and that’s why you have 7 tattoos some of which you regret because you were manic and thought it was a good idea but now can’t wear regular clothes because of them. It’s me…..I am that dumbass…..
I broke in my new coworkers in the other day. I had an anxiety attack at work and it was so embarrassing and awkward. I didn’t sleep good last night because of storms and I got paranoid about pine trees and tried to move my husbands truck and got it stuck in the mud so then I was so paranoid he would be mad I couldn’t sleep. So my anxiety was already up and then I made a mistake and I freaked out thinking I would get fired and I ended up holding on to a wall for dear life hyperventilating and crying. They don’t know about my anxiety so they were completely lost on what was going on or what to do. They know I have anxiety issues now. Surprise I come with quirks you find out about later. We figured it out and they didn’t care too much about it. I think they were worried I would freak out again. I don’t think people realize how fucking embarrassing it is to have an anxiety/panic attack in front of strangers in public.
Again I don’t believe in click bait so this isn’t about my husband or one particular person it’s about my job I recently left.
I was there for 10 YEARS! I loved it even on the bad days. I said I would never leave unless one of their ads didn’t give me goosebumps and it still does. I left with a pay cut but better hours and a better quality of life for me. I needed set hours, days off and to actually have holidays off. I realized when I left it would be a bit of a cultural shock but I underestimated how much of shock it was. It caused a mood swing that I was terrified of because they don’t know at my new job about my quirks (illness) they aren’t as open as my old job. My husband knew what was going on but for the first time in years I had to push it down because there is no one here for me to talk to. I’m not used to that either. At my old job I’d worked with most of them for years. (There wasn’t a high turn over right.) My supervisor and director were the same the entire time I was there. We were this highly screwed up dysfunctional family but the second someone needed something everyone would drop what they were doing for you. I could always talk to anyone about my moods including my director and supervisor and got full support. when I was diagnosed I went through a hard time, when I was too depressed to come to work, too manic to stay, the medication adjustments, the mood swings, the random episodes of panic attacks and break downs. All the overdoses. My bosses are more understanding than I could ever ask for and even though sometimes I don’t always act like I appreciate everything you do and how understanding you always are. I grew up in the 10 years I was there. Thank you for 10 wonderful years. You taught me how to be an adult, professional and no matterwhathow to give outstanding customer service. I’m prepared for everything because of you. I’ve tried to not run back even though I really want to there was a reason this worked outthe way it did. I miss it everyday and Ihope over time the pain lessens a little. I think of them every time something funny or crazy happens only to realize none of you here now.
I’m sure our paths will cross again and always “It’s my pleasure.” 😘
Where have I been? Who the hell knows at this point. I need to update everyone I just don’t know what to say right now. I’m working on limited meds until I get insurance at my new job and I dealt with a sudden low that I thought would get worse but luckily I made it through okay. I also had an anxiety attack at my new job after only being there for 4 days! Thanks mental health. I tried to keep you under wraps but you like to make your presence known you sick son of a bitch.
Every year thousands of people gather in Piedmont Park to celebrate recovery, lives, struggles and sharing their story. When you walk around you see shirts of people that passed away only a few weeks prior from all different ages, genders, ethnicity, sexual orientation suicide doesn’t discriminate. Pay attention to the warning signs and if someone says they aren’t okay get them help listen to them. If you aren’t okay please ask for help. 800-273-8255 the suicide hotline. Every 40 seconds someone dies by suicide.
This year like every year is being thankful that I survived after so many attempts that I am still here but I look at the families who have people who didn’t survive you feel a little guilt. You see them suffering and think that this should be your family and why did you survive when I tried so many times without any severe side effects while these people are mourning the loss of someone who probably did the same thing as me. I figured while I am here I need to use my recovery for good and to help people that are in the situations I faced to help them through. This is why I blog hopefully I am helping someone who is struggling right now. YOU CAN DO THIS even when it feels impossible even when you are laying on the floor fighting that fucking bottle of pills you can do it. It feels impossible but dammit you can make it through this. Call the hotline please.
I’m back……AGAIN!!!!!!! DID YOU MISS ME? I can only be overly obsessed with one thing at a time and now I’m trying to be obsessed over two things my blog and losing weight. I’ve lost 50 pounds since July. I have a lot of little things going on behind the scenes Ive actually been extremely busy and working out has consumed me but like most things I obsess about I am tired of the gym at the moment. So now I am sitting in our newly open Chick-Fil-A which means I can work without driving far. I cant work at home I never get anything accomplished which is why I joined the gym. I think that soon I will need to go back especially since I want to lose 20 more pounds before Christmas. I missed my blog though and somehow all of you have stayed even though I randomly start posting. I am going to try and create a structure for my posts to keep you interested and work out on my two days off. If I set myself unrealistic expectations I will get overwhelmed and do none of it. (Example me and the gym.) It is only Tuesday so we can start over with the weekly updates and I have some awesome Bipolar Chronicles to add. I need to be inspired to write and I was in a bad place so I stopped thinking it would make me feel better……(IT DIDN’T WORK) I felt worse not letting it all out which made me feel even worse. So here we go again let’s talk about all my shenanigans. I missed you guys! Let’s hope for some consistency.
I am going to start off with if you have a weak stomach are triggered by laxatives or vomiting please be cautious.
I’ve had 0 bowel moments in 5 days so Monday I bought fiber supplements and laxatives. I tried to do this about 2 weeks ago with magnesium citrate but nothing happened. I’ve used magnesium citrate before and it dropped me to my knees and cleared me out but no luck. I decided to try laxatives this time. I took 4 Monday night hoping to have a little relief Tuesday morning and that isn’t what happened.
I woke up Tuesday with horrible cramps so I went to the bathroom and nothing was happening until it felt like my body exploded out of both ends. I had to vomit but getting off the toilet felt impossible so I leaned over and vomited in the tub. The sound of vomiting makes me vomit more. The light was off in the bathroom so when I turned it on what I saw blew my mind. It looked like I vomited shit. I have a picture of this my husband said it wasn’t but I still think it was. After this I chugged peptobismol and had after shock the rest of the day. I ended up losing weight because of it. I will never take laxatives again. Sorry this is a gross post.
I remember the first time my depression hit me hard. I was 19 and it was close to the holidays which I always got really excited about even when my husband and I were struggling to make ends meat in Athens, but it was 2005 and we moved back home and I remember buying him a PSP (they were so popular) and on the way to Wal-Mart I just slumped. I wasn’t happy about it…I wasn’t happy about anything. I thought it was just stress and it would get better but it didn’t. It was at this age we determine that it onset and I never did anything about it or got treatment for it because I was naive and thinking if I ignore it that it would go away. I couldn’t be depressed right? What did I have to be depressed about I wasn’t one of those people. I tried to justify it to make myself understand why I am feeling this way it was because of what happened to me it has to be that is the only thing that makes sense. I never understood depression and I held the same stigma too it that everyone else did. I tried a therapist once before (there is an entire post dedicated to therapy.) I eventually went to see someone a few times but it didn’t help anything. I hid it the best I could made it seem like I could brush it off and if I tried hard enough ignore it until it went away.
There is a gentleman on Instagram who has a page Don’t suffer in silence #dsis and when I started to read about peoples lives I realized I made myself suffer in silence for too long. I wonder now what would’ve happened if I was really honest with myself and got help when I first realized I needed it. What would’ve changed? Would I still end up at the hospital?
My depression is a forever train wreck in my mind.