Category: Life

The Great Fall

November 1, 2024

TW: suicidal ideation

Once a few birthdays ago, I went to a show at a local mid-range theater. They had recently renovated and their stairs became a small death trap. They were slate tile stairs and someone had spilled beer on said stairs. My clumsy ass stepped in the beer, snapped my ankle, swung my legs up over my head while tumbling down the stairs. In a dress, no doubt.

I hit my head in the process but I can’t remember it happening. I had to have people tell me later that I hit my head. Well, I also must have scraped my knee at one point because my leggings were ripped. My shoe was lost and I was humiliated. I had royally biffed it in front of a mildly large audience.

What really stood out to me, not at the time, but especially now, was how I was able to stop myself from tumbling all the way to the bottom of the balcony. In my ADHD crisis brain, I was able to think to grab the handrail. I heard a voice in my head say, “Stop”, and I reached out and made contact. I was still upside down and absolutely panicked.

A medic had to come and tend to my ankle and scrapes. I refused an ambulance because I didn’t want to pay for it but ended up driving myself to the hospital. My head was not right and I barely remember being in the ER. They probably scanned me but I could not tell you which kind. I’m scared of head MRIs but if I were a gamblin’ man, I’d say I got a CT scan. Thankfully my brother was in town and was able to get me and my car home.

It was less than a month later, I was still experiencing concussion symptoms and ended up going to the psych inpatient against my will. I was sent by ambulance to the hospital from a doctor’s appointment, so, I ended up paying for an ambulance ride either way. I hate the US medical system. $800 because I told my doctor I wanted to die. I don’t blame the doctor, he was only doing his job. But it took me a while to pay off that bill.

No matter what the consequences of the fall, I am still haunted by that voice in my head that helped me stop falling. Where did it come from? Was it me or was something watching over me?

Believe what you want. Thank you, dear reader.

Life minus (some) meds

February 10, 2024

[TW: food, body image, dieting, weight discussion. I recognize I grew up in privilege and never experienced socioeconomic situations where hunger happened because there was no food. I struggled with money in my twenties and had to go hungry a few nights or live off oatmeal for a week but I always had safety nets. This post is solely my opinions on how I grew up and how that affected my relationship with food.]

I’ve been having issues with accessing my doctors lately. I’ve had many appointments pushed, by months, recently. I am leaning on the hope that everyone in the hospital system is just doing their best and this is just an unfortunate circumstance but it doesn’t remove all the frustration. One of these appointments was with my psychiatrist.

I was recently put on mirtazapine and stopped taking trazodone for mood/sleep coverage. Mirtazapine was supposed to cover what I was going to lose with the trazodone. But mirtazapine came with more than just some okay-ish sleep, I got a new emotion, fake hunger. Yup, I became hungry at all times. I woke up hungry, I went to bed hungry, I was hungry right after eating. It wasn’t normal.

Maybe it’ll get better?

My life’s motto

I’ve been on some restrictive diet probably around 20% of my life. Being overweight since age 9 will do that to you. I know what hunger feels like. Whether it be weight watchers and their point system to zone diet with their zones? I don’t remember. Neither really took. It wasn’t until ozempic that I truly discovered comfortable weight loss.

I’ve lived my life believing that weight loss had to hurt. You had to be punished for being fat. Your life was too indulgent and you need discipline, now learn to starve. Do you know how much it messes with your head to ignore a basic human need? My body wants food and I can’t eat it. To this day, I ignore bodily signals like having to pee for hours on end because “I can’t possibly have to pee yet.” (I blame ADHD for that.)

“I can’t possibly be hungry yet,” was a thought I never wanted to experience again, so, I spent the last 4 years eating what and when I wanted, regardless. I topped off at 322lbs at my heaviest and it wasn’t until this miracle drug, Ozempic, that I’ve ever been able to lose any significant weight. (I’m at 40lbs so far.) And I don’t feel hungry on it. I actually had a side effect of forgetting to eat at all then almost passing out from hunger. (Whoops.) That faded while my body got used to the drug and now I eat a normal amount of food to a small bird. It’s almost like a gastric band in a shot. I was able to be restrictive without the gut wrenching, soul crushing pain.

The mirtazapine brought back the hunger I was without for over 6 months and with it all my feelings of inadequacy and triggers came back too. I actually would feel hungry after just consuming anything. It was impossible to know when I actually needed food or was being tricked by this medicine.

As a child, I had a doctor tell me medication doesn’t cause weight gain. “Pills don’t have calories,” That was his excuse to shame me for my weight. I have been on hormonal birth control and antidepressants since I was 16. I was also 200lbs and 5’8” in the early 2000’s. I was fat and it was all my fault was the general message from everywhere. Society, peers, parents, doctors, gym teachers. But this new medicine might as well be served with a side of ice cream.

Pills don’t have calories.

My childhood doctor

Around the time I started mirtazapine, I was losing around 2lbs a week, consistently. I would have been on Ozempic for 7 months by then. Within the first 2 weeks of mirtazapine, I gained 2lbs. I not only stopped my descent, I pivoted and gained weight. It devastated me.

I decided to wait for my psychiatrist appointment to bring this up because my life’s motto is, “maybe it’ll get better?” It didn’t.

Then, my appointment was pushed two months. Thankfully, I am able to message my doctor through a patient portal. I explained the situation and he promptly (within 2 business days) messaged back to stop taking the mirtazapine. Full stop. There was no, “and start back on trazodone.” I’m just stuck now, in medication limbo, not sure if I will be able to sleep ever.

My only redemption is that I still have my adderall prescription. This is for a future post but I’m pretty sure I have always had ADHD/neurodivergent tendencies and not fitting in, being shamed when unmasking, and being exhausted from all of that is why I’ve been depressed since I was 9. Now, I’m learning how to live with the correct treatment and I would have to say, it’s not too bad.

Thanks for reading.

Weight-Dependent Love

October 24, 2023

It started yesterday afternoon, this migraine I’m nursing at the moment. I feel as if my brain is splitting down the middle, like a watermelon in a vice. The ringing in my ears indicates that I’m probably dehydrated. This isn’t a new concept for me. I’m always in a state of mild dehydration, then I’m confused when I exert myself at all, I almost pass out.

I’ve spent majority of my life (over 25 years) overweight and less of a person in the eyes of society. I wish I could go back to when I was in high school and convince myself that I was beautiful and my parents are assholes. It was my parents who started my body image issues, the people who were meant to protect me turned against me and thus, I turned against myself. This is a longer story than I am willing to type tonight.

With my caregivers lacking in emotional competence and shame-based parenting tactics (Catholic Boomers), I’ve learned that I am not worthwhile, I am a burden unless I’m spending all my time as a corporate shill and obsessed with my weight. Every living second is meant to focus on what you eat, when you eat, how much you eat, how much everyone else is eating, and finally the guilt from eating at all.

This became a me problem as much as a my family problem. I can see it directly in my mother the torture she went through with her mother. I see it in my mother’s sister and her daughter the way we all talk about ourselves, our bodies, and other people’s bodies. It’s toxic.

This is devolving. A good thing is that my therapist wants to start focusing on my body image issues. Growing up in the late 90’s/early 00’s was rough on little fat me with society valuing thinness over average bodies. Everything was “super model thin this” and “cocaine diet that”, all over the news, magazines and godforbid my crutch through childhood, tv. (TV was my ADHD coping mechanism growing up.)

The reason I write about this today is that I’m still plagued by fears of rejection based on my body. Everything comes down to my weight. In reality, I think it matters less to the people in my life than I make it out to be. I don’t have to make excuses for the way I look but I feel like I do. I can’t shake the feeling that just existing needs to be apologized for. The cognitive dissonance is deafening.

I live in a constant tug-of-war in my mind. I am confident and motivated one moment but also, hate myself and feel like a burden at the same time. It’s exhausting. No wonder I rely so heavily on cannabis, it stops the in-fighting.

This is where I leave you, dear reader. I hope I made some sense because I have no idea what’s going on. 🫶✌️

ADHD

June 20, 2023

I was semi-officially diagnosed with ADHD on my 35th birthday. I still need the report to be completed but I received a verbal confirmation. Good enough for me.

When the doctor told me that I had ADHD, I was surprised at how upset I felt. I went in knowing that I fit under the neurodivergent umbrella pretty comfortably, and at this point, I was convinced I had it. The sensation of hearing the diagnosis was like a pit in my stomach. There was a hollowness in my core. I think the doctor noticed that I was not responding well. We spent the last half of the appointment exposing childhood trauma through drawing pictures to cheer me up. It felt like a shadow was over me.

While growing up, I was always treated like I was lazy and not trying hard enough. I skated through school. I was smart enough to be in honors classes, but I was pulling solid B’s without much effort. There has been a lot of trauma around my “potential” and never being enough. What I’ve been learning through therapy, is that I was dealing with some serious mental health issues hindering me since I was young. It was true that I wasn’t “reaching my potential” but I was given the wrong tools.

My drive home from the specialist was long and filled with much dissociation. I can’t remember when it started but I started to feel relief. I was almost lighter somehow. It wasn’t my fault. I am not inherently flawed. That was a huge revelation.

My self esteem is so low though. How low is it? It is so low that not even Megan Thee Stallion knees could reach this floor. (Relevant reference)

I am waiting to hear back about treatments and interventions for the newly found ADHD but for now, I’m just telling everyone who will listen. Take care.

It’s been 3 years…

March 2, 2023

This seems like a simple picture of a statue at the art museum, but this showing up on my feed today really threw me for a loop.

I was taken right back to that exact moment I took that picture. It was 3 years ago. I had gone to my happy place, the local art museum, it’s somewhere that I could, and still can, be alone and think. This was a huge moment for me and my journey though. I had been unhappy in my long term relationship for months and this moment, on the same day I took this photo, I had decided to leave him.

It doesn’t seem like a very long time, especially since we had been together for 6 years. I think I officially ended the relationship almost to the week of our 6 year anniversary.

Was it the right choice? I think so. I definitely have doubts and regrets but I do feel like I have grown so much as a person and figured out who I am since I left.

I still wish only for the best for him and I hope he finds his true love and happiness. I don’t know if that twinge of guilt will go away with time every time I see a photo “memory” on my many apps from out time together.

Take care, dear reader.

Self-Care Sunday

November 27, 2022

Hello, friends. I wanted to drop in and post about this product I started using that had changed my world.

I’ve always dealt with poor skin. I had many strikes against me with a genetic double whammy of acne and bad hormone control, along with [many] medications since I’ve been a teenager. My skin was doing the best with what I provided. I would get deep, hormonal acne from age 12-30+ which resulted in a slew of cheap, early-millennial, skin-care routines and striping chemicals.

Up until recently, I’ve been neglectful at best with my skin care routine because I can now. Well, I shouldn’t but I do. One of my worst symptoms of depression is not taking care of my hygiene. Which is super frustrating but I haven’t worked through that completely, yet.

Which brings me to today. I got a great promotion and raise at work before Thanksgiving. Wonderful news but it ignited my imposter syndrome, hardcore. I’m excited though, to be able to afford to indulge in something for myself. Of everything to invest in, I chose, skin care.

I got myself a starter set of Clinique products from one of their Black Friday/Cyber Monday deals. Of all the products I received, this was the clear winner in my books.

Clinique Moisture Surge

This is a product I endorse because as a neurodivergent individual, I appreciate the feel of everything. For me, at least, I’m big on textures and tactile stimulation.

I find this moisturizer to be both as a product and the results of my skin are pleasant to the touch. The moisturizing gel is silky and smooth. The results for the first few hours are dewy plump, healed skin, as if the silkiness of the gel fused with my acne-scarred visage.

Don’t get me wrong, I love a nice cream lotion for my hands and body. It causes a heaviness on my face that becomes frustrating. It’s a sensation I have trouble not obsessing over, I can’t block it out when I’m trying to talk all day. I end up touching my face a bunch and causing breakouts.

This product is very well rounded and worth the cost, in my opinion. Lastly, this is not an ad, I really believe in this product.

Coca Cola #2

May 26, 2022

Here’s more pretentious garbage I’ve written:

I have always wondered what are memories? Our whole being is meat and electricity. How does consciousness work? There has to be something out there. Something that connects us all. We are not individuals. We experience the same stimuli. Our realities are so different because of our experiences. Each new experience changes the filter of how you see life. Some for the better and some the more opaque. I feel that my lens has been clearing up lately. I know more about myself and how I act. My general behaviors and where I want to be. But do I know where I want to be? I really don’t because I don’t have a sense of self. My identity has been lost to the constant need to please others. I built each layer around me to form into every situation and relationship I’ve ever been in. And since my earlier formative years were around narcissists, I have no sense of myself. All that mattered was them.

I’m starting to return. I can feel the small irritations throughout my meat suit. My foot feels like a nail has fallen through the top. My arms feel like they are wrapped in barbed wire. I still can’t feel myself. How would I know?

That’s all, folks! See ya next time!

It’s been a minute…

May 24, 2022

um, hi!

I always forget I have this place to post my work but here is some garbage I wrote:

Here we go. I’m in my zone with my music ready to go. As I sit here I wonder why my heart is so light and yet so fast. Like a hummingbird floating in my chest. My brain is the flower that feeds my heart’s form.

My skin is beading with sweat and the hummingbird works. The fierce ripples of motion that reverberates out into the universe. I feel the universe inside me. All of space is caught in my lungs. I breathe it. Swirls of consciousness, all except mine, are drifting around my head/soul/aura. It seems like there is going to be an earthquake in my soul.

The heat rises from my arms as I type. Trying to keep up with the whirlwind that is my mind right now is making them overheat. OR it’s the energy of my life seeping out. 

There is a sense of urgency in this song. A bustle of movement. But the heat. Like NYC in summer. I am not here. I am elsewhere. I am transported to anywhere beyond my reach. With that is a sacrifice of not being here now. Everything has a tracer. Movement is drawn in the sky by motions of atoms. The molecules that make up everything. I can feel them under my skin. The motion of blood and electricity. 

I am lost. I traveled too far. My sleep notification just went off but I know I am far from sleep. I’m being awoken now. In this instant, I can feel everything and nothing all at once. I’m detached from my hands and yet still, I control them. Softness, among the chaos. A sense of belonging in a world of loneliness. 

Chaos. I can’t contain the chaos. I flow with each change. Each motion of the water carries me further. I’m still warm. But now I’m in a hot spring. With nature. 

I’ve traveled again. I’m not sure where I am. A distant noise draws my attention. A clink of metal on taut string. It is creating music. A gentle rhythm underneath the spot stealing trumpet. I’m lost and feel like switching the song.

That’s it for now. Don’t worry, there’s more.

Short Story: Subject My Night

October 19, 2020

I sat on my couch that was more duct tape than leather at this point. I was playing Halloween music loudly in my empty apartment. I rigged together my laptop and my second favorite mechanical keyboard on a lap desk I had impulsively bought from Barnes and Noble years ago. I felt good, I felt semi-awake, and I was going to write. About 30 minutes into writing, I realized that I had started many thoughts but finished none of them. The desire in me to write is rooted in my love of reading. Occasionally, I will read a book off Amazon and think to myself, “I could definitely write better than that.” 

To this point in my life, I never actually wrote a complete story. I even enrolled in a creative writing course through some scam of a website, definitely not affiliated with any respectable school. I ghosted that program the second I realized the teacher and I did not agree on what was quality writing. I would never say that I am an expert in anything to be honest, but I know that I enjoy writing in a certain way, and no one could persuade me otherwise. 

At some point, I believed in between college and grad school, I had convinced myself that I should write a memoir. What I forgot at the time was that my life was eventless and I was not humorous enough to write anything that someone would read, let alone give me money. So, now I am doing something similar to a memoir but more scatterbrained. I’m writing a blog. Again, there was almost no planning or structure to what I was embarking on but who cared, it was free and I didn’t have to use my own name. 

Well, here we are. I am two months or so into this blog and yet I have no idea what I am doing still.

I Refuse

September 21, 2020

In today’s post, I’m going to get real vulnerable. I am lonely. I’m surrounded by family and friends who love me but I feel like I’m missing something. This ache is exasperated by the current stress I’m experiencing. I feel that I need someone to hold me and say everything will be okay. Unfortunately, there is no one who I trust enough to believe them if they said that. That’s what I’m missing, someone I trust wholeheartedly. Also, I have learned that you have to be that person you trust. You have to be that person because no one will be around you forever except yourself.

I refuse to settle romantically anymore. I refuse to ignore red flags. I refuse to withhold my happiness just to stay with a person. I have to take the lessons I’ve learned to try to prevent as much heartache as possible. This reminds me of how instead of taking chances or learning to deal with my problems, I put all my energy into preventing pain. It isn’t possible to prevent pain, ever. I think my future therapeutic work is going to focus on dealing with the pain and not preventing it. In the end, creating pain to prevent pain just doubles the pain in the end. Hashtag inspired thoughts. (I crack myself up.)

This is going to be a short one today. I’m still dealing with the effects of fatigue from depression and especially since my financial situation has caused so much stress for me, I’m a wreck and can’t focus very well.

Take care, dear reader. I still appreciate you.