This is not my work. I don’t know who to credit this to but Its damn Beautiful. I don’t feel the need to take pics of mine before clean up. It’s just not on my mind like that. I’m ashamed. I am so afraid my family will know I still do this. I’ve cut myself since I was 8 years old. My mother showed me how to with a plastic shoe string end. Loved it, never went back. I am almost 31 now and still have found no better way of coping with the accumulative bullshit. I try, and try, to keep it further from my mind but when the obsessive thoughts start, there’s no peaceful ending. It starts small. There’s a fleeting thought of how it will feel. How the blood will pool onto my lap and down my arm.. Then by day two, I’ve done it. It’ll be another 2-3 days before I stop cutting. Before it all runs from my mind and body like the evil darkness, the evil dark scourge that encircles my every thought. I’ll never fully escape it. I wish I knew a better way to control this shit but I’m too old to learn new tricks. I’ve noticed that missing sleep will incapacitate my mind. My logic center shuts down. I am so damn tired when I go to bed, but it just doesn’t last long. I read that meds like Benedryl when taken daily will cause dementia and Alzheimer’s so I try to stay away from it. I have worked my ass off to try to control my disease without medications. I’ve lost weight for one, by eating a whole food Plant-based diet. I hold pills in then lowest regard. I just can’t bring myself to take them. Now, with that being said, I do not think anything negative about someone who utilizes medications of any kind to help treat their issues. My husband is a MD for gods sakes folks. It’s just not the life I am chasing for myself. For some people it truly is a matter of life or death and unfortunately one day it might be the only option for myself as well. I’m breaking my heart almost daily. Do I do it because I deserve it? Do I use it as a break between the feels and feel nots? It makes me happy while it’s happening. It’s like eating a cheeseburger from Wendys. Absolute bliss until you’re done, then you get to ride home with the guilt and shame of having said meal. It’s just been one of those days, I guess. Talking about my cutting adoration has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Theres a million people out there like me. Your friends, your sister, your brother, Your Mama… You’d never know. My own brother would probably disown me. I’ll just hang on to this secret for the rest of my life from him and my parentals. It’s just been one of those days and the coming days will be too.
Yesterday I fell from the cloud I had recently been riding. Ya don’t need all the shitty details, if you’re like me, you already know anyway. It doesn’t matter how amazing your life is when it comes to mental illness. BLEH…anyways. It’s early on the blog this am as usually I wrote in the evenings when I’m done with things I need to do. This am I said fuck it to the dishes, to the scattered tomato on the back splash from canning yesterday. Piss off to the empty boxes that cradled the mason jars we used. The cats enjoy the boxes anyway.
Luke, our other German Shepherd who is old as Methuselah, attacked our other shepherd Obi. Not the first time. We’ve sunk thousands into Obi because of Luke, the bastard. This will be the last attack. Luke will go for the long walk. I remember my Dad taking pets for the long walk. The ones that were too sick or aggressive. I grew up in a tiny southern town that was riddled with poverty. There were no vet visits. Hell, there were barely doctor visits.
I mentioned in a before post about rather risqué pictures my husband took of me…I’m in love. I have the hardest damn time loving anything of myself. My husband, who is a Doc, calls it body dysmorphic disorder. No matter how much weight I’ve lost, I still see the same horrendous person the mirror. When he caught this picture of me, I just fell in love with it. I’ve lost quite a bit of weight. Especially since we’ve dove head first into a plant based lifestyle. I think Ill have some pro boudoir pics done now and have more done when I drop to the healthier weight id like to achieve.
Some girl had the nerve to get on my IG the other day and say that small dogs couldn’t be service dogs. I just washed my hands clean of that ignorant twit. Some people you just can’t help. We have two service animals in our family and they both happen to be under 11lbs. Holy moly.
I had a rough time yesterday. There are times when I can’t control the obsessive compulsive thoughts and I am taken over by them. I often disassociate when the moments become too much. Often while driving. I don’t know how I make it home some days. A girl, hell a woman, I’ve come to enjoy on Instagram said today that she will begin to expect the hardships. Yes, expect them. That way you will not be taking for granted any ray of sun shine that comes your way. I love her. A fellow WARRIOR. Of course, you could apply that to more than your mental illness, sure. If I expect every day to be just a golden sun shiny day then I will be disappointed every time. Today, I will expect those super hard moments where my mind ravages me. I will prepare. I will be ready. Until then, I’m going to get dressed up in something slutty. I’m going to put on my glasses. I’m going to just enjoy the day until I can’t any longer. My friends, THAT is recovery.
Saw on the news this am that the baby we’ve all been watching has passed away. What a horrendous situation for any parent to be in. Ive seen such mixed outbursts from people. Some that think the parents were in the wrong. This amazes me in a way. As a parent, I would do ANYTHING it took for my child to be ok. ANYTHING. In the end, the best thing they could do was to let him pass. Still such a terrible thing to have to go through. My heart, prayers, and love goes out to Charlies’ parents.
Finding time to write has been slightly difficult due to my kiddo being out on summer vacation. Mom what you doing? Let me see..Whats that word? Who are you writing to?….You get it. She’s currently beside me but so involved in her game that she’s ignoring me. Im glad she’s not old enough to understand whats happening. Just be a kid, Pidden. One day Im going to have to explain so much to her.
Her bio-dad and I divorced a few years ago and she doesn’t see him much. Thats what currently plagues her right now. No matter how many times I tell him that he can come see her whenever he wants for any length of time, he still doesn’t. She doesn’t understand that and assumes its all up to me if she sees him. I doubt I’ll have to explain this in detail one day as she will figure it out soon enough. It really slams home the whole notion of really knowing who you’re marrying and having children with… Anyway, school starts soon and she will have other things on her mind.
In december 2017, I am/was planning to have weightloss surgery. Drastic right? well, I need to lose around 100 lbs and i was going to adopt a whole new life style to accommodate that surgery..Then I came across a documentary on Netflix called What The Health. EYE OPENING. Later I watched Forks over Knives…and a few others now. After tons of my own research and my dear husband is a Physician, so we piled research and decided a plant based diet had sooooo many merits to great health and here we are dropping weight like crazy and getting super healthy. I encourage anyone taking medication, over weight, or just generally unhappy, to watch these documentaries then do your own research. Do tons of it. Make yourself convinced in one direction or another.
On another note, I am unmedicated for my mental illness. I am currently ascending, i think. Im having the incurable racing thoughts. Im tired as hell too. I want to write all the time which is a no brainer for me up cycling. I wish things were normal. Or atlas a better version of my normal.
The first blog post. Frightening. Alarming…Will I try to spew something intellectual that will just sound as if I’m illiterate and end up having no merit on society? Will I be judged tremendously by a grammar nazi? Probably. In fact, I’m quite sure. You see, I scored this sweet little label Bipolar Schizoaffective (insert sarcasmic obscenity) …A bunch of scary sounding words with a collection of drugs to “make me healthy”… I have a scattered way of thinking. Mucho randomness. I see and hear things that aren’t real. The almost constant highs and lows. Suicidal thoughts, plans, intentions. I’m a cutter. It’s the best and easiest thing that helps me. Not all of us are the same but, we all suffer through it.
So, this is what my blog will center around. Mental Illness and me. I am not only mentally ill, but I am a traveler, a foodie, a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister, but not so much a friend. I’ve cut off everyone since I’ve moved and I really don’t care to get to know anyone from here. I will work on self-care and just be a productive member of society. I will utilize this blog to live out this part of life separately. To vent. To breathe. To just live. Unmedicated. Where I can totally be myself without repercussions.