Night of the Living-Dead

15 years ago, I died. It was not the result of a chronic illness, or at least I did not know it was at the time. The death was swift, so swift I hadn’t known it happened until I started my 2nd year of my bachelor’s degree and knew I had gone missing. I continued on breathing, eating, sleeping, hanging with friends, going to class – all the hallmarks of a living person. But the rotten decay of my death existed in my bad decisions and my heavy sadness when I was alone.

I’ve fought through this decade and a half to resurrect myself. At first I tried to construct a new me but failed miserably each time for many reasons including general mental fatigue. Then I began to work on my dead self, like a necromancer summoning forth my essence. And I would succeed at times and watch my ghost emerge and possess me. For that time I’m alive and happy but the ghost recedes and so does my happiness.

Laying in the dark looking at the poorly built life. Pieces of a image I thought was expected, lying in the midst of it, carried along by the steady current of life that moves regardless of your involvement; there is no doubt that I am dead.

I am not sure what to do with the realisationn of my death and the possibility that I am never coming back. I’ve long held to the idea that if I just got this right or that right, I would be happy and fine and find peace inside my skin. But I know now that is not true. And the thises and thats belong to someone else’s life. I don’t have faith that I can reincarnate as I need to. So much is missing: the courage, the energy, the motivation and maybe the opportunity because I don’t know how to create it.

I am dead. Walking the earth like a zombie, my soul trapped in purgatory, Praying that God saves me.

Mania – I see you now

My problem with my bipolar is that i get depressed – i cant function with my depression. I don’t take on my responsibilities, I don’t make good decisions – that is when i do make any decisions at all and social interaction is painful because i can’t stop overthinking. I never saw a problem with my mania before. I get excited but doesn’t everyone? The cons of mania have never been visible to me. Until these last 3 weeks. I got into a loud shouting match with my supervisor 3 weeks ago and then last week i yelled at a client. That was Friday. I felt like i was unravelling. I feel compelled to defend myself – in both instances, they were situations that had been brewing. With my supervisor, he is a toxic individual who is obsessed with disrespect and thus find it everywhere that he looks, interacting with him is miserable and i constantly walk on egg shells and i had had enough and wanted him to discuss his issues in the open instead of banging things around in his office and making passive-aggressive comments at us. With the client, i felt myself getting annoyed and since she wasnt actually there to see me but was waiting by my desk, i repeatedly asked her to let me concentrate on what i was doing and please engage me on that topic late, she persisted until i sort of went mad. I really should have gone to the bathroom or something to get away from her but also why should I have had to do so? Why can’t people understand that someone cannot engage you right now? Let people breathe!

Anyways, I’ve been taking my medication but since Friday I’ve been wondering if I ought to go back to my doctor, maybe she might want to tweak the meds?

Then Saturday, I went to get refills cause i ran out that very day and they didnt have my usual APO brand of Fluoxetine. But they did have the CRAZY EXPENSIVE, like over $100 expensive brand name Prozac. This is the largest chain distributor, only one other pharmacy would possibly have it and they were 30 mins away, I could call but the way I felt, i know i wasnt driving over there. So I tried to be responsible and ensure an uninterrupted flow of my medication and i bit the bullet and bought the prozac. I was due to take it today. I finally took it around 7pm. I put it off so much, i’m scared that i will need to adjust and it wont go well. which is an argument for taking it sooner but still i put it off. I feel ok but I am dreading work tomorrow. my supervisor went on vacation for 2 glorious weeks. and for those 2 weeks there was no tension in the office, i could work in peace without fearing that i was upsetting him constantly. I got quite a bit done. Tonight I’m on edge because there is a task that i had put aside to deal with some other more priority ones but needed to get done before he came back and of course I forgot about it.

I cant deal. I am trying to get in early tomorrow to do it before he comes in. Some is better than none right? but I am so not a morning person. I’m also trying to do some reading for an assignment that i due tomorrow night and i havent started. I slept a lot this weekend because my period is coming and i’m sad and tired. Today i found myself thinking i didnt want to exist anymore. I wondered if i could quit work and just stay home. I wondered if i would ever be happy. and i wondered if i could live with thinking like this for the rest of my life. Because as much medication as i take, the worthless feeling never completely goes away.

Right Now I’m just trying to make it through tomorrow.

 

UNfollow!

My best friends are pregnant and married and I am happy for them thinking up 5 year anniversary gifts and reading up on baby care. But ever so often, someone on my timeline who isnt that close a friend posts a pic of them and their happy marriage, glowing pregnancy or cherubic baby and my lip curls as a visceral envious dislike oozes out of me like pus from a wound. I ask myself why that person got chosen to have those things and not me. Then my personal depressive narrative jumps on stage and reads a list of my sins and faults and i go “oh, that’s why.” and I get sad because it wont happen for me. But sad in a nostalgic kind of way – like longing for something that doesnt exist anymore – like the Black Amethyst fragrance that Victoria’s Secret discontinued (you sons of b****s why did you take my true love from me????)

I’m mostly happy and filling my time with work and looking at becoming an entrepreneur next year and being on the board of a charity and other stuff. Plenty for my mania and depression to use and work with – mania be like: ENTREPRENEURSHIP – AWESOME, you’ll chart a new course and build a legacy for yourself! depression be like: bitch who do you think you are? you are stupid and you never finish anything and you’ll be poor and the business will obviously fail. But ever so often I’m watching a show and the character finds someone who makes sarcastic jokes with them and really gets them and i have a moment where i wish I had it. Where I wish for butterflies when someone calls or texts me and a date on valentines day. I wish I had the option for kids, i dont know if i want to use it but I’d like to have it. The lump in my throat grows and then it fades when i remind myself that this is not my story. I am here for a different purpose. Romantic endeavours have never worked out for me but I have built a great reputation for working hard, making things happen and being kind to everyone – especially hurting people. So I feel God is pushing me in that direction, everyone doesnt get the fairytale but everyone gets a story. <— DO NOT STEAL THAT. it’s my favorite thing I’ve ever come up with. But if you want to put it in a great movie please contact me and credit me, thanks!

So anyways, even in my different story it hurts a bit to see the things I want but cannot have like a loving fulfilling relationship with a romantic partner so I have unfollowed some people. I dont need to be scrolling through Trump posts and memes and come across you lovingly staring into your highschool sweetheart’s eyes while my cat avoids me because I changed my hairstyle (true story). Sometimes I need to take care of me and skipping your happy moments that lead to my sad ones, is just that – self-care. I’d never tell anyone to not be happy and post their pics, when i went on my eurotrip i posted pics – im sorry if you cant go but neither of us should stop being happy because the other has something we want and cant have for whatever reason. But we might need a minutes away to feel our feelings, breathe through the very real pain and come back when we can write “OMG CONGRATS!!!!” and mean it.

Mean

I am mad at my friend. He is mean. Mean and cranky when he is sleepy. Today he said i would be a bridezilla, which i took offence to – have you seen that show?!, and refused to tell me why. Then the other day he said that I’m not tough. Go ahead and judge me, it’s a free world for some of us, but hear me and my anxiety out.

He says these things in an off-handed way but he means what he says and he stands by it when questioned. These things conflict with how I see myself and it turns my world upside down, it turns my greens purple and the sun rises in the west. Who am I really? is and has always been a big question for me, for most people to be fair. But I have stumbled around not knowing and not liking what i did think i knew for so long and now im starting to get a foothold you come like Scar and fling me the fuck off the precipice? I was Mufasa, I was climbing that hill!

Look I know I’m not the toughest, I am not about to star in “Girl Fight”, I weigh less than 100 lbs! (Family genes, I’m actually pretty healthy, I’m also 5′ 3.5″ , yes the .5 is important to me). Anyways I’m not that tough but I dont feel helpless and it seems that’s how he views me. I brought up the fact that I did a whole year and a half of Mixed Martial Arts, I got hit, kicked, punched, and never TKOed once!  He discounts that, because it was about 3-4 years ago but even at the time he didn’t think it made me tough. I do not like to be thought of as helpless, it confirms a feeling i have been actively fighting for my entire life. Because of my size i constantly live in fear of being beaten up so I am extra nice to people because I know it would be easy to hurt me badly. I went to MMA to take back some control after a guy threatened to beat me up at a fete because neither me nor my friends wanted to talk to him. That was a prime example of why I live in fear, he chose me, the smallest one to get angry at and threaten. Going to MMA was empowering, i felt less afraid of people and i didnt have to be so extremely nice all the time because I wasnt going to get my teeth kicked in if I disagreed. Let me pause here to vehemently state this was NOT how I was raised at home, my parents and family are VERY loving but, from primary school I was the tiniest kid and learned early that if the bigger kids wanted the toys I would be shoved away. Then, I do not have luck with guys, there is no prince coming to save me, there is no hero in the movie willing to take a bullet for me. I am not Rose in the Titanic with a Jack risking it all to keep me alive, I am alone and I have to keep myself alive. I am it. So to say that I am not tough, upsets me. I’m all I have and if I cant save me and protect me, I feel I’m lost.

As for the Bridezilla thing, I doubt I’m going to ever be a bride. (30, not dating, tons of rejections to my name, 1 boyfriend ever which was horribly tumultuous because we werent right for each other… that spells spinster.) So anyways I might never even be a bride but if i were i would be so awful I would be a bridezilla. That plays right into “is that why no one wants me?”. I have to wonder, am i secretly a horrible person and everyone just says that im nice to my face and hates me behind my back?

Do people only speak the truth when they are mean?

Are these somethings he has thought about me and he is finally telling me what he really thinks in doses?

I don’t know.

He was being like this before, years ago and i sat down and asked him why, if he thought all these terrible things about me, why did he keep talking to me? did he even like me? because i didnt think he did. He was sorry about how he had made me feel at the time and he apologised. Now I’m taken back to that conversation. So maybe mean isnt the word? I’m sensitive and not tough at all when it comes to him and other close friends. I show my soft underbelly. I’m generally nice but I never want people to know how I really feel. I laugh a lot because for so many years i wanted to die and i didnt want anyone to know. So to let people in and then feel like they get there and go “ew”, is not great.

I want to be better and i want to welcome and be open to constructive criticism. And I want to know me so I know if they are right or not. I used to pray every night “Lord please help me not to be a bad person.” because I really do feel like a bad person very often. Nowadays I pray a more positive version “Lord help me to be a better person.”

But “not tough” and “bridezilla” are not the features of someone I want to be and I’m here like…what if there are more? What if there’s a whole me I dont know and I really am terrible? What if I actually am everything I think I’m not? What if I am who I hate and am too blind to see? I feel the cloud of depression settling. What if the dark thoughts that haunt me are true?

 

 

 

Better!

I forgot to put on my deodorant and my watch but I am at work today, was only 7 mins late due to extra traffic from the inclement weather – yay me! I work in air condition so i hardly sweat and I did remember my perfume so that should cover any scent i might emit lol.

I feel great today, like everything is possible. Getting out of bed was only hard because it was a bit chilly outside and my covers were so warm! I’m slowly slogging through work but I’m getting it done and managing my calendar like a boss.

Also just got GREAT news – the pharmacy is not only stocked with my meds but they have my new favorite brand – APO! As we say here “The Lord doesn’t come but he does send!” – meaning he may not appear in person but he does give you what you need.

I just wrote a resignation letter for a board I am on, i don’t want to resign but it conflicts with my job so I have to, and maybe it will be good for me to have less things on my plate. I am on another board that i tried to resign from due to time commitments and they REFUSED to accept my resignation, saying i was vital and they woudl work around me – that was nice to hear and that’s working so far. I’m managing, I’m remembering things! I am paying attention! I never thought it possible. I feel something great is going to happen this year! 🙂 Hope something great is on the horizon for you too!

 

Can’t today…

It’s 10:24am and I am still in my pajamas. Today is just one of those days where I cant face the thought of going into the office. I would have claimed a sick day but I have a rehearsal I really want to go to this evening so I have to go in, I said I had a personal matter to deal with and I would be in after lunch. Days like this, the idea of sitting at my cold desk under those fluorescent lights and doing my job is hard. I can’t handle the idea of getting myself up and showered and dressed and going in. I am trying to make breakfast and it’s taking a while… and it’s just toast.

But I don’t hate myself. I am not yelling at myself for the things I haven’t done and for not being able today. Medication doesnt make bipolar depression better, it just makes the depressive episodes manageable when they sneak up like a thief in the night. So I will make my toast and tea and watch Lemony Snickett’s Series of Unfortunate Events on Netflix and hopefully by the end of the episode, my medication will kick in and give me the boost I need to actually shower and fend off the darkness that is descending.

Sometimes I don’t think I will make it. I don’t eat very well and by that I mean my eating habits are atrocious. I skip meals often, it just takes too much energy to make food or when there is food available – i usually dont want to eat it. If I didnt live with my parents I would have perished a long time ago. Which is my fear about moving out – if I move out and I have to feed myself during a depressive spell, i could become seriously ill. My mother watches my eating habits, she nags me to eat whens he notices I haven’t eaten for a while. She tries to get me up in the morning if I’m late, she helps a lot. It sucks to be 30 and still needing that kind of support but it would also suck to be 30 in a dirty apartment, with no food, lying on the bed, ignoring bills and calls and possibly losing your job. Don’t ignore or resent your support network. You need it. Desperately so.

I will move out eventually, I’m only about a year or so into a good medication regime that works and is effective. So pushing myself to get to the level that i feel other people are at is just silly, I could destroy all the progress I have made and I wont do that just to fit in. I never have fit in anyways so why start now.

I’m going to retoast the bread that is surely cold and make a cup of tea and hope my energy lasts throughout those tasks.

I hope you are having a better day but if you aren’t, I’m with you in the storm. You wont want to do it, but take your meds and eat. That’s all you need to do today. Take your meds and eat, everything else will work itself out.

Values & Overthinking – How to Ruin a Perfectly Good One Night Stand

He was hot, he was french – like authentic french like when he spoke I felt like I was back on the Seine river with a crepe in my hand- and he was into me. He was here for 3 days and last night was his final might, he lives thousands of miles away, i would probably never see him again. Perfection.

I wish I could tell you tales of a sexy roll in the hay where he whispered french nothings in my ear and made me scream in another language but alas, I stand before you LAME as they come. I said no and walked away.

I can hear you screaming in anguish, WHY WHY?? You owed it to all the straight women of the world to bed this man! Well, allow me to explain the millions of thoughts that went through my head. The following will be much like kicking over a bucket full of rusty nuts and bolts that really dont go anywhere or fix anything but everyone has lying around in the shed. You might stare in disbelief at me, wondering how could these thoughts be occurring to be while a hot frenchman kissed my neck – but please go acquaint yourself with bi-polar disorder and the ridiculous amount of anxiety that can come with it despite being on your correct dose of medication.  You may still yell at me in the end but please know that I give zero fucks because I found out last night that I am making a habit of valuing what I want over what other people want from me. (Oh you saw values and thought this was going to be a self-righteous post about one night stands being for sluts and whores, nope sorry, you’re in the wrong part of town. So reverse and hang a left at judgmental-dick lane and you’ll find yourself back in nobody-fucking-asked-you ville – ta ta!) [whoops! did I not mention this blog contains profanity?]

Anyways, onward to the explanation!

1. When we kissed, there were no sparks. It was nice but not “omg, I just got wet”. But that may be because…
2. I wasn’t horny. Seriously, medication has the strangest impacts on my life. You would think that not being horny would be a terrible side effect but no, it’s great. I have made STUPID decisions because I’ve been so horny I couldn’t think straight. So it’s actually really interesting and new to make a decision with my head and not my crotch. That’s not to say i have ZERO sex drive, oh no, I still have one! But now it’s a regular sedan instead of a Mcclaren F1 car.
3. I was scared. Not of him, he was the consummate gentleman – he never forced me or made it too difficult or anything. Which was almost panty-dropping in itself. But no I was scared i would suck at sex. I don’t do it that often and I do it with partners I’m in some kind of relationship with, whether it’s a romantic or platonic relationship. (Yeah sorry, I’m totally fine with friends getting together for casual sex.) So i feel like the mistakes I make are covered by the way those people feel about me but with a guy who doesnt know or care like that, one mistake would damn me to the depths of horrible sex encounter. Add that to the fact that the asshole who i giddily and stupidly gave my virginity to was sleeping with someone else (that i didnt mind) and often compared me to her and angrily so (that I did mind because she had been having sex for years whereas I had only just started and dicks hurt when you’ve just met them!). That all was a recipe for prolonged fear that I never really got over and I was terrified i would just SUCK! and not the fun way.
4. I wasnt wearing my nice undies. Usually I am happy to get undressed because i LOVE the way i look in my panties but i didnt know I was going to see him so i just threw on a thong that used to be black but washed so much that’s it now got that greyish cast which screams “I’ve seen better days.” Though this was a terrible excuse, it was dark and I was about to get naked, im pretty sure he didnt care what my panties looked like.
5. I was a little hairy. I usually go fully shaved but I was trying a new thing where I left a square patch above and I havent been … um…. manicuring the lawn so I was afraid it’ be a jungle and he’d be horrified. Again, not that great an excuse because it’s not unbearably long, you can’t plait it!
6. I was afraid he’d think I was a slut. Society typically frowns on my sexual views and I dont have much self esteem so my self worth is usually couched in how other people see me so despite not minding a hook up, the idea that he would walk around and say how he fucked this little slut and she was such an easy little bitch made me want to leave immediately. Which is also sad cause he was so kind to me, he had these lovely kind eyes, deep down i dont think he would have done that. Even when I left and i was walking to my car, he called to me “hey, drive safe!” and he smiled. yes yes i know WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?? (See bipolar diagnosis for suggestions…)
7. It’s fitting that I end on number 7 because that’s my favourite number. I plain old just didn’t want to. Usually if met with a situation like this where I dont want to engage sexually but the other party does, being a people pleaser i NEVER say no. I take one for the team, I act the part while hoping it’s over soon. In a situation like this where I showed up at his house at 1am in the morning and we talked and started kissing, I would feel like I had wasted his time and thus owed him the sex. However, I walked away. I chose me. I didnt want to, I didnt feel like it. I didnt know why and instead of trying to rationalise and give myself a good reason to be allowed to leave, I just did. I didn’t think about it. I didnt think of valuing his time over my peace of mind, I didnt think about valuing what he wanted from me over what I was feeling. I just walked away. I have learnt to value myself. I am allowed to walk away from things I don’t want despite the exit upsetting others. I get to choose. I never felt like I had a choice before, I was to be used by other people. Before, I would have been so grateful that such a guy would deign to look at me that I would feel i needed to sacrifice my body as repayment for such a blessing. Now, I dont have to atone. (Interesting parallels to the Christian doctrine which I believe, Jesus saves, sometimes through medication.) He wouldnt be the last one and I didnt need to scrabble at everything handed to me because i was worth something and I could have something else.

It did make me think about what i wanted when i was home in bed. And maybe I’m not the one night stand kind of girl anymore. I’ve never had a one night stand but I always figured I would if presented with the right opportunity. However, that was in the days of clouded judgment, right now I know I want a relationship. I thought I’d be fine with pit stops along the way but I realise I want to wake up next to someone, call them on the phone, text them, talk about our days and our shows and our lives. I want to invest in someone and apparently that might preclude me from getting hammered by a french guy.

I messaged him when I got home to say i was safe and that I was sorry and i confessed that I was afraid i would be bad and that he would think I was a slut. He said that was all nonsense that he doesnt subscribe to, and he’s been genuine so far so I believe him.

I doubt we’ll ever speak again but I’m really happy for that encounter – it did a lot for me. It made me feel like I wouldnt be alone forever and I stand a shot at love after all and it let me know that i had come to value myself in a way i never thought possible or thought myself deserving of. (yeah sorry i know, dont end a sentence with a preposition.)

Here ends the bucket of bolts lol. Have you ever had a hot one night stand? Tell me what I’m missing in the comments or feel free to yell at me about the french guy, you know you want to. 😉

Calcified and Fortified

I’m not going to review my 2016, I don’t feel like I have anything new to learn from it or take with me, it’s the same lessons from 2015 that I continue to work on.

My default is usually enduring optimism which clashes terribly with my depression and lately, these two have come to a stalemate – like molten lava meeting an ice trough, a grey mound of hardened ash now sits where all of that passion used to be.

I have not been successful in love, facing rejection numerous times (tv doesnt teach women how to deal with that but we’ll talk about that in another probably controversial post). After the last one where the conversation simply faded into the ether and the lunch date never materialised, the calcification began and by New Year’s Eve, for the first time ever I didnt care that for the umpteenth year in a row I had no one to kiss. I was done feeling it was me, and to be fair it is, i’m gravitating to the wrong people for me and expecting that to work, I’m placing too much of my self esteem in the hands of someone else – if they like me I am worthwhile.

However I in myself am not terrible, hitler had a wife and marilyn manson had several, I have not attempted genocide of a race other that that of millipedes and I have taken not a single human life nor have i harmed anyone – not even emotionally as i was the one to be teased and have my heart broken. In fact, I have spent my life erring on the side of caution and trying to make everyone happy, living a life of service as that’s when i feel I have earned my place on this earth and my oxygen quota (it is an entirely new thing for me to be deserving of life and breath just because. Thanks fluoxetine! but not the one by health 2000, drown yourselves and stop manufacturing that bullshit excuse for a pill and flunil – you can take a long walk off a short cliff).

Anyways, with this new free life, for once i am not leasing it and paying for it, comes the knowledge that I am deserving of the love I want and I dont have to settle, even if that means I remain a spinster for the rest of my life. This thought has made me cry often, red eyes in the dark of night, praying in desperate sobs for someone to love me, my heart physically hurting so badly in my chest that it was hard to breathe.

I used to be like a vendor on the street with my heart in my tray, offering it to passers-by “love for you sir?”, “can i interest you in a relationship?”. Or i was like a used car salesman “hey she’s got a few miles on her but she’ll work real hard for ya sir. Yep, this baby cooks, has 2 degrees and cleans up real nice in a dress and can be yours for the low low price of some half-asssed attention and a text msg every once in a while. no labels necessary!” I’m done now and it’s very freeing.

And I myself was skeptical, I figured the minute i met an eligible guy i would drop all of this and go back to begging for attention like a dog for a treat but I didnt. I went to a lime last night (i live in the Caribbean, a lime is a social gathering were people eat, drink, and talk. it differs from a party in that it is a much more casual atmosphere, you dont need to dress up and the main focus is camraderie rather than dancing.) So I went to this lime and there was a guy there, decent looking, quiet but fun … before, i would have been ON, turned up to all! Telling the funniest jokes, finding ways to read my personal resume (oh that time i was in paris or yeah i baked that double layer chocolate chip cake with butterscotch filling and chocolate fudge topping – doesnt that make you want to hire me as your girlfriend?) But I didnt. I felt myself start to at one point, it was a fleeting moment then i just couldnt be bothered. Why? because I wasnt that invested.

That’s another awesome and interesting new thing, I can pass on things. Before i might not have been interested in a job or a guy but i felt that I had no choice but to take what was available – i mean who else would want me to work with or date them? Now, I can CHOOSE! It’s mind-blowing. I did not have to want him simply because he was available and the only man in the vicinity. Which suddenly makes me have to think seriously about what and who I want. I spent so much time thinking about what i had to be, to be wanted, now I’m suddenly sitting here with a blank slate.

Yes, somewhere in that calcification process, something in me got stronger. I have changed. I hope it lasts, it has been an lovely experience. But my island is out of my medication and i have roughly 12 days of meds left. We’ll see how I can sustain his progress and navigate the new feelings and realisations. Join me for the journey?

Feel free to tell me about your calcification and fortification process. Or you can give me your best “used car salesman” ad for yourself in the comments lol.

Excuses Excuses

We’ve all made them to cover up the truth.

I say “I’m tired” but I really mean “I couldnt sleep because these awful thoughts about myself kept hounding me.” or “I dont have the energy to do more than the basics of existence today.”

“I don’t feel well.” but I really mean that I don’t feel mentally well and I dont have the energy to socialise or work.

I text sorry I cant talk right now and feign meetings to avoid interactions and channel them into a less immediate media like email.

People think I get sick a lot, and while my immune system could use a boost, I welcome colds because then i can stay home and be left alone.

I made excuses the last few weeks when i flat out stopped taking all of my medication. I said to myself, I’m really not that bad without it, though my closest friend argues I am not but i solve that problem by not telling her when i go off them anymore.

I said to myself, these new ones dont do anything so it doesnt matter if you take them or not.

Best one yet – let’s experiment and see how you do off all the meds. I take hormones as well to combat my poly-cystic ovarian syndrome and those can make you depressed. So i said to myself that I am fine, the hormones make me sad and if i dont take those then i dont need to take the other stuff. This was supported by a suggestion from my psychiatrist. She needed to get a baseline of how I was and that involved going off the hormones to see what i was like naturally and how they affected me so she could effectively treat me. No where did she say I was not bi-polar nor that the medication was to blame for my mental issues. But like faux news sites i manipulated the facts in my head to support my theory.

I was fine- or at least i think I was. Then I wasnt – I began to wonder if i should exist, i began to hate myself in the worst way again, i began to wake up and not want to get out of bed again. I began to be snappy at my family again. I blamed it on my period and they accepted it. I knew better and promised myself I would take the medications again.

It was a rock restart, remembering to take them, forcing myself to take them, arguing with myself about their perceived value. These are arguably not as good as the previous from Health 2000, which are no where near as good as the one from Wockhardt. But I need to be on something to survive the days, for my family who loves me and who i need to be better to.

I’m still only at 60% wellness and I feel close to tears to think of all the ground I lost when they stopped bringing in that brand. I ache for happier days, for surmountable challenges, for waking up and wanting to get out of bed. I get angry about how the pharmacy played with my life and didnt think twice – probably because of money or something. I hate the companies that make products that they claim are generically the same but personal trials have proven to me that they are not and i feel lied to and a victim of a corporate machine.

But today, I’m adjusting to the new stuff and I made less excuses. And tomorrow I hope to make even less.

Happy to be Tired

I’m tired. Properly tired, not exhausted but wide eyed like I have been for the past few weeks but tired. Enough to go to bed without my phone, to turn off all the lights and sleep soundly, hopefully.

I’ve been unable to get my regular medication and I have been given a different brand. I didnt take it at first, for a silly reason – it was a completely different colour. Stark white as compared to my usual multicoloured pills and it seemed impotent, like a placebo. I avoided it until I couldnt anymore, until getting out of bed became the chore it once was, until i was avoiding people and avoiding work and nothing made me happy, not tv, not video games, not outings with friends, not my pets, not my family, nothing.

One day I plastered a smile on my face to go in to work at 1pm when i should have been in way earlier, to do a task that was due days ago with nothing in my stomach and the idea of making myself a cup of tea loomed too mammoth and i realised i really needed to get back on my medication. The night before i stayed up until 3 or 4am, unable to sleep, watching netflix shows i cant remember and feeling numb and sad. I realised i didnt want to stay in that place, which is a place i used to consider home.

So I took the first pill. then another the next day. then another the day after that, and they didnt work. and i wrote the doc asking if i should take a higher dose and she said i could trial it for 2 weeks until i feel better. Apparently im reacting as if the medication was new. which i find funny because the first time on my multicoloured pills was wonderful, like an elevator out of the grave, i had no side effects and i immediately felt better. But I guess I am more sensitised now and it takes longer or more to give me a reaction. or maybe they really are placebos….

but they are starting to work. I still didnt want to see anyone and turned down social interaction this weekend, but i watched a show and enjoyed it and i played video games and did well and enjoyed them and the numbness is thawing and now i am tired. when i felt the need to sleep i almost cried, i was happy, wanting to go to bed made me emotional. because i’m getting better. the only problem with getting better though – is realising that maybe a shower wasnt such a huge chore after all… lol.

–signed,
sleepy, dirty and more mentally healthy than yesterday