Category: Blogs

Writing but Never Hitting That Publish Button.

I have I don’t know how many posts in my drafts. Some from when I first started writing to some from a day or two ago. They all sound the same. Someone who’s hurting and trying to get those feelings understood so that they can continue on.

A lot of times that is what I use this space for, to get my thoughts and feelings out so that those around me don’t have to hear those thoughts or feelings. And that’s just because I have a hard time believing that anyone wants to hear me, or will willingly listen to me. It’s something that has been a problem for a long time. It wasn’t until recently that I figured out why I’m that way.

My mom likes to pretend that whatever shes feeling I’m feeling too and that theres no way I could feel differently than her. Since shes the one who tried to teach me what emotions were. She never let me have my own emotions or thoughts until I got to a point where she couldn’t browbeat (or literally beat in some cases) me into being her clone.

So by still living that way, I’ve always been so sure that I don’t say anything anyone wants to hear. But my thought process is changing slowly. I’ve got friends and chosen family that truly care about me, my thoughts and what’s going on. I’ve got my own self care down to where my depression is 75% handled by me making routines and doing things I have no choice but to do. I can talk to others about how I’m feeling and they offer genuine advice and concern.

I’m glad I’ve never published a lot of what sits in my drafts. It shows me at my lowest and shows the angry, spiteful, hopeless me. Giving myself time to reflect and refocus my thoughts on topics shows me the better, more positive way I like to be.

(Written towards the end of May, today just seemed like a good day for this.)

Some things happened earlier today that make me stop and think. Now I wonder if I am more of an issue, more of a burden, more of a leech than I ever thought. At the moment, all signs point to yes, and that crushes me. Makes me wonder if my voice deserves to be heard. Or if I should just resign myself to a quiet silence after this. Time will tell. I’ll find a positive to this, in time I hope.

Be kind to others, you never know what they’re dealing with behind closed doors, and what the demons in their head are telling them.

Thinking Instead of Doing

I’ve spent weeks trying to figure out what to write, when to write it and just what kinds of things I wanted to say now and in the future. I thought so much that I talked myself out of all of it.

At first, I was going to write about my amazement that I was able to get seedlings started for a garden. If even a fraction of the starters survive, there’s going to be so many tomatoes, peppers and spaghetti squash that I’m not going to have any ideas what to do with them. We also want to plant onions, radishes, some lettuces and do what we can to eventually grow some indoors so that we can have fresh produce year round. That’s the end goal anyway.

Once I abandoned that plan, I thought some more about what kinds of things I wanted to write about. I drew a blank. My friend has actively pointed out almost daily that I haven’t written. He uses my writing as a better insight into my mind and where I’m at since I don’t express myself to others in any real way. I still can’t hold a job, which is distressing. I can’t seem to get into doctors until my insurance mess clears up, and while I’m on an upswing with my moods- it doesn’t take much to actually get me down. But I’ve been able to pull myself back out of it quicker. I know a lot of the things I’m taking issue with are on me, and say more about me than it does others. I can live with that, even if it means I get told I’m too sensitive and I should know by now that someone is joking.

I wanted to write about some of the things I’m trying to do to express myself more, whether its crafts or speaking out about things I want to do or try. But most of the time those things fall flat before I start them, or fall on deaf ears.

There are so many more things I wanted to write about, but then I couldn’t. I couldn’t find the words or when I did find the words they were haphazard and callous, or angry and bitter, or worst yet, apathetic. I didn’t care if I wrote, I didn’t even sign in for the better part of a month. For something that I wanted to do, I couldn’t make myself do it. That’s when I knew I had to take a step back, reevaluate my perspectives and expectations.

So I say again I’m going to try to do better, but not stress myself out or work myself up about if I write. I want to find more ways to live in the moment instead, even if it means not writing down what happened when. I want to post some of my cooking trials, and some of my sewing- if and when I get around to doing them some more. At least Spring is here, and there’s a sense of renewal all around. I’ll take that in stride and know there’s something else new around the corner to explore.

Wanting to Walk Away

I had to go to Urgent Care last week, where their solution was to charge me $200, for a 2-minute consultation with a doctor telling me my symptoms were just a little bit of anxiety (which I was upfront about on the questionnaire anyways) and to take this pill. Oh and have a note for the next day for work as well. The pill is a damn sedative. I can’t function with it, so I can’t take it. The doctor also recommended I go to one of the local Mental Health clinics, that caters to those with “my kinds of problems” to get help. Except there’s actually a problem with that. They’re open during the hours I work. So because I’m still trying to work so I can at least look like a productive member of society I can’t get any kind of help. Because by the time my days off come around, it’s the end of the week and there’s generally not anything available.

On top of those fun issues, it feels like I’ve had a couple of cysts on my ovaries burst. There’s nothing they could do for it even if I were to have gone to a doctor but it’s still pretty painful to deal with on its own. That also doesn’t count in the light-sensitive migraine I’ve had for I don’t know how many days, but I’ve only said something about the last two. To be honest that’s the worst part of all of it. Because I’ve been getting more migraines it means I will ultimately have to change my birth control (aka the one medicine that I’m on that I willingly continue to get because I know my life without it is short and even more painful than it already is.) I’m not looking forward to any of it, but at the same time, something has to give at some point soon.

I want to be positive. I want to get back into baking, cooking, sewing, and coding and just not being a miserable pile of flesh… I’ve come up with recipes I want to try to perfect, I want to have that joy of just creating. But I can’t do that if I work my 40+ hours, take care of the basic things that need to be done and actually do my share of things around the house.

Hence, why sometimes when things get to be too much, I just want to walk away from everything. Leave my life, my friends, my family, my history and my problems, and just ignore it all. I know it’s not a smart choice, but on nights like tonight, it feels like the only one. But instead of doing that, I’ll go take some more medicine that doesn’t help a lot, try to sleep and get up and fight my way through the pain no matter what tomorrow. Because I have to suck it up and deal with it, regardless of how I actually feel.

Here’s hoping sleep comes quickly, and the pain fades just a little.


“Just because
you feel lost
doesn’t mean
that you are.
Sometimes you
just have to relax,
breathe deep,
and trust the path
you’re on.”
― Lalah Delia

Nothingness and Emptiness

After working, I’ve been lax in a lot of things. Mostly because the constant fatigue and pain I’m seemingly in keep me from focusing on doing things and keep me from actually doing them. But I keep trying. I’m slow to fix dinners, I’m slow to clean up messes which leads to frustration from my friend and roommate.

I’m even slower in taking care of myself.

I’m still waiting, most likely until April, for insurance to kick in so I can begin to get myself sorted out again. I’ve felt low, my hands shake more than they have in the last couple of years, and well I feel empty. I don’t get joy out of many things at this time. I love to cook, can’t bring myself to do it out of fear for cutting my fingers when my hands shake and because I don’t have the strength or will power to do it. I get some sleep, but it never seems like enough and then I add a little less to it so I can carve out time in the day or night to try to find myself.

But I’ll keep pressing on.  Brighter days have to be ahead, because after so long in the nothingness of my mind… I worry that I’m starting to lose sight of that. I have to find a way to change something in myself so that I don’t keep repeating this awful vicious cycle. I know doctors and medicine will help, I just have to make it long enough that I can see one to get moving forward again.

“People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own souls. One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.”

-Carl Jung, Psychology and Alchemy

Things Pile Up

My to-do lists keep on growing. I’m failing at getting everything done, but I get some of the important things done, like take medicine, cook, get things ready for when my work assignment starts. But the smaller ones, things like finding a doctor (who doesn’t charge an arm and a leg while I wait for insurance to start), find things to help take the physical pain I feel in every joint of my body away, and just living, get tossed to the wayside.

By the time I get done doing the important things, I don’t have the energy to do the little things. I know some of those little things don’t seem small. Most people would be panicking not to have a doctor or have all the medications they need to keep living. But I’ve always taken life one day, one problem at a time.

I don’t have a magical answer, no shiny fantastic way to say everything will turn out perfect and just the way you wanted… I can’t say that because I know it’s not realistic. I also know living in a downward spiral constantly isn’t realistic either. Eventually, you hit rock bottom. I’ve hit what I thought was my rock bottom many times… Today though? I honestly feel the lowest I’ve felt in a long time. 90ish days from now, when meds are adjusted appropriately I’ll be fine and on the upswing. Until then? I’m just the selfish bitch who just wishes people would cut me a little slack while my emotions and feelings play hacky-sack with my brain, while the nerve-endings in most of my body feel like they’re on fire.

Tomorrow’s a new day, maybe the pain won’t be so bad and the mental fatigue won’t be so bad either. Even if it is, I have a to-do list to accomplish things off of, regardless of how I feel.

Lists and Calendars

I try my best to stay organized. I write things down in my notebook, add them to my various calendars (both online and physical ones), I almost obsessively try to keep track of everything going on in my life. I write little blurbs about how I felt that day, how my mood and how my depression was, as well as just keep a journal to sort out feelings. I always do pretty well about this at the beginning of the year. I carry my bullet journal and my planner around with me almost everywhere, I have my phone if I don’t have either of those.

But still, by the time Late March/Early April comes around, I almost always abandon it. I think a lot of that has to do with how I feel in the Springtime as well as still grieving and dealing with my own emotions. That time of year is when my life has always seemed to turn upside down. This year though, I’m sticking through it. No matter what, no matter how I feel, I have to keep moving forward. This year will be different.

It’s already different in a few different ways, I’m coping with my mental illnesses. I’m trying to do more than just survive. I know my limitations and I’m not as afraid to ask for help as I once was. And sometimes all it takes is that little shift of perspective. From being so focused on what is wrong, to seeing that I can still do things it just takes me a little longer with some modifications but it still gets done.

There’s still a long way for me to go this year in terms of a lot of things. At 10 days in though, I’m more positive than I have been in so long. Things are looking up, I just can’t let myself get bogged down in the small things that go wrong, because the slightly larger thing is just around the corner.


End of the Year

We’re rapidly approaching the end of 2018, and preparing for the beginning of 2019. I’m ready for the new year to start. It’s a symbol of renewal and hope for me. 2018 hasn’t shaped up quite like I had envisioned. I haven’t found another job yet, I haven’t been able to get any kind of medical or mental health care, but all of that is okay. Next week is a completely new start. I’m still in Illinois, but working on plans to move further east. It may not be in 2019, or even 2020, but it’s something to work towards and plan for.

Despite how grim and hopeless I have felt about things the last couple of months, things are getting better. I’m more secure in where I’m living. I’m not afraid that I’m going to be kicked out at moments notice again. I have a very part-time job for most of January, I have another interview next week, and have many other applications out for work that I feel capable of doing. I’m making strides on working on myself. I’m trying not to be as negative about myself, I’m doing my best to accept that people who want to be around me want to do so because they see something I don’t. I am doing little things to help myself with my depression and my anxiety, I’m getting outside and moving around, I’m doing things that I truly enjoy doing. For instance, I baked bread and enjoyed it for the first time in 6 months, and I’m looking forward to doing it again in a couple of days. I am truly enjoying rediscovering some of the things I enjoyed in the past.

Once the new year starts, and I get back from taking care of some things with my mom, I’m intending to go to the gym and work out as well as work. I’m also hoping to get things started for my crafts again so that I can try to earn some money that way as well, and I want to post more about that and what I’m working on once I restart that endeavor. Hopefully, my insurance will come through one way or the other and I can get things going there too.

Ultimately, 2018, while it hasn’t been that great it was okay. I’ve survived another year, my divorce was finalized and I’ve lived in 3 different states. My health and mental health have taken a turn for the worse, but I’m still around and working on things the best I can, and that’s enough for me for now.

Even if 2019 doesn’t live up to my lofty expectations, I will survive and keep moving forward.

Happy New Year.

Photo by Crazy nana on Unsplash


Holiday Blues

So this year, I’m not able to go see family or other friends (besides my roommate/friend) for Christmas. Part of me is actually really upset about it, because while I’m not big on the commercialism of the holidays, they tend to bring people together, and … Continue reading Holiday Blues

When The Pain Becomes Too Much

What do you do when the physical or mental pain you feel becomes too much to handle? Do you cry it out, yell, or scream? Or do you get nervously quiet, just silently watching and waiting?

I know I tend to get very quiet, and very sullen when my physical pain (that a lot of doctors just dismiss) gets high. I know the pain scale from 1-10 is ridiculous. My 5 could be someone else’s 8, or vice-versa. And no matter what, even if there’s no request for pain meds, the first thing they’re trying is the ibuprofen or acetaminophen that I’ve already been taking religiously for days trying to stamp the pain out.

My depression makes my pain worse at times. It’s a physical symptom for a mental problem. I had a therapist that made sure to remind me that the physical symptoms I have shouldn’t be ignored just because I’m trying to take care of things with her. I still needed to go to the doctor (and be ignored) and tell them what was going on and see if there were solutions to make it easier to deal with. Their solutions were all the things I had already been trying for years. So years later, I’m still in the same predicament, with even worse mental health than I had then.

Where does that leave me for now? In a lot of pain, that I can’t get under control. My friend/roommate doesn’t always see that I’m in pain when I get a random hug from them or when I have to go up and down the flight of stairs to take care of things in the basement. No one really sees the tears I cry at night, waiting for sleep to take over so I can ignore pain at least for a few minutes. No one also sees the tears I cry when I wake up, realizing my body is still not cooperating and I have no choice but get up and move. I’m hoping my new insurance will kick in soon, and that I’ll be able to do something…anything to get at least a little of this taken care of. To get my own quality of life to a better state than it is in now.

That little shred of hope is what I cling to tonight, as I sit at my computer crying silently from the pain.

It’s Been A Few Days…

So it’s been about 2 weeks since I’ve actually sat down to write or really reflect on a lot of things. I’m struggling mentally and physically. Mentally my depression and anxiety are at the worst they’ve been in quite a long time, and it doesn’t help that any work I keep trying to get either falls through or just isn’t worth the expense of me doing it. Physically, I’m a wreck. I’m in pain all of the time, I’m fatigued and I have joint pain when there’s no reason for me to.

All of it boils down to, yeah I’m alive but it’s a struggle to continue. I continue to try to find positives, sometimes I do other times I find something I think might be positive for others to just shoot it down. But I try and that’s what counts. So for the next few days, I’m going to keep trying to find the positives and keep moving forward. And hopefully, it’ll be enough for me to begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel.