Bring it on!

I've been thinking about something Tim said to me at therapy. I can't even remember how it came up, but he briefly mentioned that "no relationship is ideal and, if anyone tells you otherwise, they're lying". Maybe I'm dumb or something, but that was news to me. Kind of. Logically, of course not everyone's relationship is ideal, but no one's relationship is ideal? Never crossed my mind!

But of course no one can have a perfect relationship, no matter how lucky you think you are or how blessed. No matter how attractive or smart your significant other is, no relationship can be perfect. Because there are two different people trying to blend their lives together. Their opinions may be different, their personalities may be too different (or too much alike), their preferences for whatever may be different...lots of things! Two individuals making a life as if they were only one. 

Maybe I'd talked to Tim about the nightmares coming back. I don't remember telling him I was becoming uninterested in being married at all (just for the sake of not dealing with the status), but I was. I can't seem to get over what happened. It's been years now, and things are usually fine, but there are these bouts of insecurity, despair, and loss that come over me. Even a compliment said the wrong way will bring it all flooding back. I can't seem to process it enough, even though I've tried almost everything - literally - to get over what happened. 

And most days are easier than others now. At first, I couldn't think of anything else. I was so SO angry. I was even more hurt. I felt betrayed and broken. I'd cry at work, I'd consider suicide constantly, I remember looking at the sky so many times and just wondering "why me?". 

But now I've realized why. 

It will never completely go away. And my personality has suffered (I'm much more paranoid and impatient) but, overall, things will probably be better than they would've been otherwise. Obviously I'd have loved it if my fairytale romance wasn't a facade, and that I could've lived that out quite a bit longer than I did, but having the ugly truth beaten over my head made our relationship stronger.

Sounds weird like that...but it's true. We've already gone through the worst. Even if he developes a drug addiction, or we never have kids, or one of us becomes physically disabled, we can get through it. Because we got through this. We had to tear everything away, and strip all the negative aspects of who Stephen was, and then I got to meet the real Stephen. The one behind all the walls and exteriors he'd built - whether through (undesirable) familial traits and policies, or through insecurity, habit, impulse - we stripped them all. And now he's a much better person - because he's himself now. 

I'm happy for him. And I'm happy for us. I know he loves me because he's stuck with me through every bout of despair, anger, resentment, and insecurity. I hope he knows I love him because of all the suffering he caused. So...we truly know we love eachother. I thought I knew we loved eachother before it happened, but this is different. Much deeper. Deeper than I thought was possible. 

No matter what, even if we did divorce, we'd be on good terms, because I truly care about that man. He's let himself be the quality man he always hid. And maybe I had to pay for that, but he's paying for me now, so we're even :)

We just have the rest of our lives to make our strong relationship even better. And we're so lucky. Because there will be rough spots. There has to be - it's the nature of marriage, but the worst is over for us. Other relationships that haven't been through something that difficult are not as strong. Maybe they'll never go through something as difficult, but instead have many semi-difficult things to go through (loss of interest over time, work schedule issues, whatever). And we may too, but these things aren't as bad. We have perspective, you know?

I'm trying to say this in a way that doesn't sound arrogant or pompous, but it's not going well. I just know things now. I know I love him, and that I always will. I thought I knew that before. And maybe this had to happen. I can't see how Stephen could've improved and changed without it. I don't see how I could've realized the depths of my patience and forgiveness without this. 

I don't know. Whether it's in the first 10 years of marriage or the last 10 years, there will be struggles. Ours happened before we were married. He supports me as I continue to struggle. But it's becoming easier to move on. I actually have days where it never crosses my mind anymore! Maybe, in 5 years, things will be great. They can only improve. We scarcely ever fight. And, when we do, they only last a few minutes or, rarely, overnight. Things are great, besides what I still find a way to hold on to. 

But things will only get better, as far as our marriage goes. We're stronger every day. I couldn't care about Stephen more than I do now. He's my flesh and blood, basically! We've been through our toughest battle, so the best is yet to come. 

Bring it on!

Yes!

Today was a good day! Really!

I'd run out of medicine over the weekend - the worst - so I spaced out what little I had left (eventually getting to 200mg of gabapentin and three 75mg instant release daily) and ran out yesterday. As you can image, my sleep schedule was ruined, my head ached like none other, and my body had all these aches and pains. Seriously...it was weird. Everything hurt or ached. Tim says depression often causes body aches and pains, so that makes sense. It could also be the PKD. Whatever the case, it's not a surprise or anything to worry about.

ANYWAY, I felt horrible, but wasn't really worried until I looked online to make sure nothing bad would happen. Turns out, something bad would happen. Stopping gabapentin can cause "serious problems" like prolonged seizures, agitation, confusion, restlessness, and anxiety. Though I'm pretty sure the seizures would only be a risk for people who are taking gabapentin for their already-existing seizures. I think that's what I just read.

But, at the time, I thought those applied to anyone. So I went to the emergency room. I'd tried calling instacare, but they don't deal with psychiatric stuff. I then made an appointment with my G.P, but slept through my alarm (at 2:45pm). Yup. Emergency room was my last option. I needed medicine.

The doctor there was very nice. She brought in a therapist to basically give me some options on psychiatrists in the area (oh yeah, the reason I couldn't get a refill is because my psychiatrist is at UVU and I no longer go there). I still haven't been able to get one! They're all booked or don't accept my insurance...blah blah blah.

Then she came back and talked to me for awhile. She asked me how I was doing, and we chatted about how depression medication really doesn't help. She apparently has a psychiatrist friend who said electric shock therapy was the only treatment that really worked. I want to try it, but I'm scared about the stroke risk. I told her about the blood clotting thing and PKD (not sure she knew what I meant with PKD, but I'm used to that). She was very, very nice. They have great doctors there.

30 minutes after that first 300mg gabapentin, my ibuprofen-proof headache was gone. It was amazing. I felt good. And then I felt good today! Better than I usually do on medication. I felt like I could take on the world! Or at least hold a job.

I just hope it lasts. :)

School (Rant/storytime central)

Stop me if you've heard this one, but I've always been horrendous at school. In elementary school, I was the slow kid in the slow kid math class (see: still doing 3x tables while the rest of the 6th grade students had an ice cream party. My teacher still let me have some at the end of it, but I didn't earn it like everyone else), I was in a program meant to improve reading skills of lagging students by having them read to special needs people. I thought they'd selected me because I was nice. I was always "nice".  I remember a specific report card, burned into my mind, that showed I was miserably behind in everything except "listening" at 81%.

Then there was middle school...and more math struggles. And now science. Basically everything. Although, I somehow became pretty good at English (relatively, anyway). What's dumb is I still had the delusion I could be an astronaut someday. In reality, I barely graduated. I had to take summer math remediation courses and, during the school year, I had to give up one of my electives each term to go to some weird porta-building to do math and science with an adult tutor.

High school had so much promise, right? No. First, I was shoved into Algebra. Even though I liked the teacher and participated/answered questions, I still failed or got low-C grades. My poor academic advisor got me out of hot water frequently. She echoed others when she told me "Usually people who are bad at algebra do really well in geometry". Still no. In fact, geometry was somehow WORSE! I worked very hard doing homework and listening and everything, but the tests flunked me. Who cares about PROOFS anyway? It's been solved! There is no need to make a dumb set of rules about how to explain the way you reached your conclusion. No one cares.

Anyway, I failed a term - maybe two - before I gave up. Somehow I was put into Algebra 2 and dropped out before the first term ended, I believe. I could not do it. Katherine was in that class with me, she was sleeping most of the time, and she still did WAY better than me! So here I was, having exhausted all my math options...what was a slow girl to do? Somehow, for one semester, the school made up a class called "test prep math". Basically, we were supervised by a particularly skilled math teacher while we finished math packets. The math was simple. My level. And that finished off my math requirements!

Also, I failed the first term of chemistry. I needed a physical science course and, by now, I was smart enough to know I could not take on physics. Voila! First semester of senior year, astronomy and geology pop up! Miracles. My academic advisor signed me up for geology without even asking. She said "I think you'd enjoy it". She was a smart cookie. That was my favorite high school class...except orchestra and AP Music. I not only did surprisingly well (97% on a test I didn't know we were going to have), but my teacher let me be a T.A. for her troubled-student earth science class.

In addition to all that mayhem, I took a few BYU packets and barely graduated. Hallelujah.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

So...having experienced what I experienced, and having years to get a clue, why did I think college would work? For a year or so, to the bewilderment of yours truly, I did. I got good grades at Snow. I got good grades (in the classes I went to) at Weber State. I think that's when I got very depressed. I earned two Fs (because I was sleeping all the time) and thought the world was ending. I'd lost my first job that I'd only held for a month - due to TWO panic attacks. Yeah, apparently "waitress" tops the list of worst jobs for people with social anxiety. Live and learn.

I don't know. I was still on clonazepam and zoloft at the time, but I got horribly worse. And then I had no money for school and dropped out for the first time. I took a year off, developed major health issues, and married Stephen. At first, I was very happy with Stephen. I stopped cutting, and I stopped taking my medications. Both of them. As you know, things would make a turn for the worse, and my mental health would further deteriorate.

After we were married, Stephen and I went to Snow again. I was hoping the experience would be as magical as the first time. It wasn't. Unmedicated, suffering mysterious health issues, and newly-married, I didn't focus much on school and failed almost every class I took. This was a point in my life where I was experimenting. I took Social Work 1010, the content of which I loved, but obviously someone with social phobia can't be a social worker. It's in the name! I later enrolled at SLCC to try my hand at mortuary science. After all, I liked being a CNA except for the social stuff. A mortician is basically the same thing, only the patients are dead! Perfect! No dice. But not because I didn't like it - it was great. This time it was because I failed most of my other classes. 

In a last, desperate attempt to finish something, I transferred to UVU. Criminal Justice. Just finish a degree. While I did well in those classes, I didn't do as well as I used to. I got my first C in a criminal justice class. And I got a C in Crime Scene Investigation Techniques I. My JAM! I got a C in something I've wanted to do for years? 

**rant alert It's not even because I didn't grasp anything. On the contrary, I was despised as the smart kid in a 6-person class. I answered all the questions - one time I was wrong though. Something about how to find latent prints. 

Anyway, I only got a C because I only went to the class 5 or 6 times. It was hard to get there anyway, as it was a morning class but, on the very first practical, the two girls I was working with were being freaking JERKS to me. As if we were back in elementary school! They started measuring things the wrong way - not putting the tape on the ground to measure. The teacher was there to answer questions, and I remembered something about how the tape needs to be on the ground for accuracy. You don't want to look incompetent on the stand. I mentioned it, they said they were doing it right, so I asked someone who'd know. It's not like I was given anything to do. They were wrong. I gave them this first correction, and they got offended. From then on, they'd just mutter inaccurate measurements at me and run off to measure some other random thing. They didn't include me. I'd include myself, but that tactic isn't really applicable when you're counting on other people to tell you their measurements. Then, they just started taking the pictures. Out of order. Of nothing. 

So I asked the teacher what the crime really was. I didn't understand - and neither did anyone else - but apparently making yourself less ignorant isn't cool. He was just watching us all and having a smoke. Our assignment said something about unlawful parking. But there was no indication of what car was violating what kind of parking law. They all looked fine to me. So yeah...ask the dang teacher and save some dang time. Apparently, he was referring to the lawn "parking" too close to the school, resulting in not enough parking for cars. He would. That guy... 

So we redid a lot of photos and some measurements...still muttered. And then, at the end, the girls just asked for my paper. They didn't even ask me to read off the measurements! Thoroughly irritated and thrown off by their cattiness, I gave them the paper and left. Something stupid was up.

And I didn't go back until the second to last time the class met. After which, my teacher approached me and asked "Do you want to pass this class?". He said it was a shame, and that he thought I was pretty bright (or sharp or something). Coming from him, that's an honor. He's tough and old. Very strict, experienced, and left no room for error. If you said something wrong or stupid in class, he'd tear you a new one. Anyway, I explained some things and he uncharacteristicaly offered me mercy. If I attended the final practical, I could get a C grade. I took the pictures for that scene, and hey, the people actually cooperated with me. The guys, at least. And one of the girls, even! I wrote the final report. It was nice! And we got an A. He was rough though. Lots of evidence to package and a hidden abdominal wound on a face-down victim. end rant**

That entire semester was pretty bad. Another one. I knew I needed help in early November 2014. I met with a therapist at UVU after taking a long test to use for diagnosis. He interviewed me and subsequently diagnosed me with Major Depression and Social Phobia. He said my scores were significant, and that he could write letters to my teachers if they wouldn't work with me. 

I really hesitated to ask anyone for help because I didn't want to use my mental illnesses as an excuse. I passed my classes. Luckily I was taking two other criminal justice classes, so I had another chance/semester to improve. The next semester, I worked very hard and still failed my online math class. Of course. So, I lost financial aid to UVU. 

By February 2015, I was very suicidal. My psychiatrist had recommended DBT therapy, and that's where I met Tim; who offered to write a letter to the school as part of my financial aid appeal. They accepted it, and it was in the process of being approved when I realized the next semester wasn't going to go well. 

I was in my laws of evidence class when it dawned on me that I totally didn't care. I didn't care about anything. I was extremely overwhelmed and frustrated - and that's the beginning of the semester, when everything is chill! And I didn't care about a criminal justice class! I was beyond apathetic, and I literally couldn't afford another bad semester. 

It took a dreaded female group therapy session to FINALLY set me straight. It was my second session with them. I hated it. Something about the fact that there are a bunch of girls in a room talking about high school-esque problems really turned me off. My problems were very different from theirs. I felt extremely weird. I was also the only one married there. I was in a different stage of life. Oh, also they can give you advice? I don't want another person's advice. Especially not from someone who can't relate. This time was different though. This time, I got to speak. About anything. So I told the girls about how overwhelmed I was - asking if it was normal. I told them about my fatigue and apathy, this problem weighing on my mind, and that medicine is making my memory so much worse, and my doctor was talking to us about having babies with my PKD... 

Their response was simple: You have a lot on your plate.

Oh my gosh...I freaking do. I need to take a break. 

And that was that. I withdrew the next day. I told Tim, and he said it was a smart move. Validation. You know what? I don't miss it. I do not miss college at all. I wonder why I even went in the first place. Don't get me wrong, I had a lot of great experiences at Snow. I met 3 of my best girl friends there. I learned SO much at Weber State - sometimes from my teachers, and other times from my roommates. Like how roommates suck and how weed smells and how to put a hookah together. I lived my last single/innocent moments in Ogden, and I realized just how beautiful "the armpit of Utah" can be. 

Everything beyond that was a waste of time. And money. 

I don't know why anyone encouraged me to do this. Of course I wasn't going to be able to do it. Most kids around here get bachelors degrees (so they can do nothing with them later). I can't do math. I was never going to make it to a bachelors. I have no energy anymore. No motivation. And soon, I'll have hefty bills to pay. College was not the right answer for me. This cookie-cutter solution can't work for everyone. Everyone in my family (except for one with brain damage) has or will soon have a bachelors degree. And I used to feel significant pressure to match that. Not anymore. None of them use their degree in their current jobs (Legal Studies: Sells furniture, Music: works for a non-profit organization, Acting: upper-level computer support tech, and my other sister has yet to complete her degree). I can't do it. I just can't. And I'm accepting that. I'll find something else to do. I can reach my goals through non-Bachelors degree means. 

Besides, I'd rather have a few skills-based certificates/degrees than one liberal arts degree. You know? There are sooo many ways to learn, why would the current school format work for everyone? It's a joke. 

And this post is a giant rant session. My apologies. It's late.

"Do not take a missed dose of extended-release forms after 2:00 PM, as this may interfere with sleep." - See more at: https://www.nami.org/Learn-More/Treatment/Mental-Health-Medications/Bupropion-(Wellbutrin)#sthash.flGoxVbW.dpuf

This is what happened. This is why I was awake until 12pm and still didn't feel tired. Now I woke up at 7pm and I'm sure to be up until tomorrow. Ugh. You think I'd know better! 

Alternative?

I can hardly move anymore. My days consist of sleeping, laying on the couch for hours (usually "researching" things, reading, or listening to music), picking up Stephen, and hanging out with him for a few hours, then doing it all over again. You'd think that would be the good life, but it gets very old and very monotonous. It's especially hard for someone who's worth depends on being productive and useful.

I'm not lonely or anything. I like the solitude. It's just that I know this isn't condusive to the type of lifestyle I want. The type of life that means anything. I'm so incredibly miserable even though I have my peace. I have my sanctuary. It's just that...I'm frustrated and disappointed that I don't really have a choice, you know?

I don't have the energy to do what I want, let alone the will. The drive. It's just very hard to get myself to care about anything, or to feel anything other than massive disappointment, frustration, anxiety, hopelessness, and misery.

I can't push anymore.

My apartment is usually messy, with piles of things everywhere - recycling, clothes, dishes, trash from fast food places...it's generally cluttered and a little dirty, even. I'm beginning to further neglect my appearance. I don't know how much worse it can get.

I missed my appointment with Tim last week, but I see him on Wednesday...but I don't know what to do. Apparently, Paxil working so well the first time I took it is a bad sign. So...great. I've looked into ECT recently. I'm a candidate, but the problem is the risks. It's especially risky for people with vasculature problems and aneurysms. Which I know PKD messes with vasculature, and gives me a decent chance of having aneurysms just waiting for the right blood pressure spike (which ECT can do). Not to mention the Factor 5 Leiden, which makes me 7 times more likely to have a stroke. So...it's extra dangerous. Also, I'd have to get off my gabapentin before I start treatment.

That was basically my last hope. That, and ketamine infusions (which UofU hospital does). Those aren't covered by insurance, however. If I am stuck like this, I'd rather just risk it, because my life means nothing right now. I'm willing to die trying to change that.

Ignorance is Bliss

I am doing alright today. I'm calm, not too miserable, and a little slow. But not bad at all.

When I first woke up, I was nervous because I felt like I had something to do or someone to see. I do, but it's not urgent and it's not...necessary. I don't have to, but I should? You know?

I wrote in my journal about some hard things. People can be very cruel sometimes. And I don't understand their lack of good judgement. I realize some people are more logical and don't use empathy or sympathy in their judgements. But even just being a decent human being is hard for them. I don't understand those kinds of people.

When Stephen's mom would gossip about the cheating, she would criticize me for (a.) staying with Stephen and (b.) being "so mad at the woman". She had no idea then, and she hasn't got one now. She told "many people" about it. I wonder how many of them agree with her. It's dumb because, of the three people involved, I am the last person one should criticize. And why? Because I chose to stay with the person I loved? I can't remember if we were about to get engaged or if we were already engaged when he told me, but I didn't have time to process it. I was trying to be happy. I was going to marry the person who made me the happiest I'd ever been. And I should just leave him because of horrible, thoughtless choices he'd made with a harlot months before?

Her logic was that she did left her man when he cheated on her. That's great for her. If it was the right decision for her, great. But I'm not her. Thank God. Why does she think her decision was good and mine is bad? What makes her right and me wrong? I think the most insightful way to look at it is that every couple is different. Obviously, she didn't love her man as much as I love Stephen. Or perhaps they had other irreconcilable issues that played into it. No matter what, every couple is different. And sometimes leaving someone is a great idea, other times it can be worked out. Tim told me about some couples he'd treated after infidelity and they became a stronger couple.

This pain will never go away. She has no idea, no matter how much she pretends to. And to sit around and gossip about me (which she seems to do A LOT of - I'm not that interesting) and criticize me with what little information she had is deplorable. Unforgivable. Why do I deserve that? What had I done (you know...the 7 months I dated him, 3 months we were engaged, and then a year afterward) to piss her off? She'd never spoke to me. And, on the rare occasion she'd reply to my OVERLY-nice emails, she'd say "I don't hate you, I just need time to get to know you."

Funny, because it took less than 2 months to know Rachel. And tell her about such a private and painful experience for me. And get her to think the same thing - that I'm stupid or weak for staying with Stephen and "hating the woman" so much. She even said to me when we first hung out by ourselves that she had a completely different idea of who I was because of Stephen's mom.

She's just a horrible person. I don't know what I did to deserve someone as horrible as her in my life. And she reminds me so much of Karyn. They say half-truths and twist words to avoid the actual truth. They refuse to just be upfront and honest. I had to ask Stephen's mom so many times to tell me who she told and she only ever got to "many people". After like...10 tries. Who the fuck knows? I can't believe she'd do that.

And her reason was retaliation for what I'd said on Facebook. I only used FACTS and I said that she was still friends with Karyn on Facebook. I'd asked her many times before to unfriend her and she just WOULDN'T. Even when Stephen got involved and threatened to cut her out, she still resisted. Why? If Karyn meant nothing to her and she was given this perfect opportunity to show one SPECK of respect for me, why would this be hard for her? Why resist at all?

Anyway...seems fair, right? I tell my friends on Facebook (who aren't judgemental and are real friends) the FACT that she hates me and would not remove Karyn from her friends list, and she tells "many people" about the infidelity and how I'm "so mad" at "the woman".

She's an absolute snake. I don't think I've ever met such a genuinely horrible person. What did I do? After her not speaking to me at all for the whole time I was dating, engaged, and married to Stephen for nearly a year, I swore at her over the phone. I cussed her OUT. Mostly I was mad at Stephen for not standing up for himself or me, I just heard her blathering away on the phone while he sat there looking mad. So I took the phone and cussed her out. She, of course, cried about not having a girl ever. Which is the DUMBEST thing I've EVER HEARD! You have two healthy boys, you have NO room to complain! Let alone CRY about it. She pretends to be so emotionless, but she's a wimp if I've ever met one. And apparently, she was implying that I made Stephen not like Dr. Who anymore. Which is also THE DUMBEST THING I've EVER HEARD! First of all, I've wasted too many hours of Dr. Who to make Stephen happy. I gave it a looooong chance. A good chance. I just didn't like it, okay? What? It's not like I told Stephen he couldn't watch it. He was welcome to. BUT WHO THE FUCK CARES anyway?!!? It's just a stupid dumb nerdy retarded show. Who cares?!

She later learned about how I was forced to watch Dr. Who during the time he was seeing someone else behind my back. And suddenly now it's understandable why I dislike Dr. Who. She's such a wench.

Anyway. Now I'm gossiping. It's not even that I REALLY dislike her, it's just that there are people out there like that. Who act all nice around others while being a flat out monster to some. And for WHAT? I'll never know. I don't know what I did to deserve her ignoring me for the first 2 years I was with Stephen. Or why she was such a dick later, but I don't care anymore. I'll do my best to keep my family away from her evil influence. I'd be happy if I never saw her again.

Okay done.

Anyway, I got that off my chest in my journal. And then I was good. I wanted to listen to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Though writing that after what I just wrote seems wrong. I don't know... the more I can block out all my past stuff and future stuff and even some communications in the present that I really ought to get to, things are okay. I feel okay.

It's a fool's paradise. Ignorance is bliss.

Yup.

Weird

I've been feeling completely weird.

It's not misery, it's not suicidal, it's not hopeless. Like usual. It's just...lost? Some anger, maybe? Apathy, for sure. Aimlessness. Purposelessness. Unwanted. Useless. Bored. Fed up?

I don't really care about much anything anymore, but I'm not hopeless in that I have my "in" (the mortuary one). I still have no idea what I did to deserve that kind of break, but I'm still so grateful. The scratch is that I just can't be bothered anymore. With anything - including career stuff.

ME! Not caring about CAREER stuff!

Something is wrong. And I keep seeing spiders and registering every foreign fabric or fallen hair as a spider. Even when I'm in bed and I know it's just my blanket, I flip out and feel down there anyway.

I can't see past today. I sit around and just think of how much of a waste of space I am. But not really in a suicidal way. Not more than usual. I just Don't. Care. I'm stuck in a bland, trite, vapid existence. Nothing matters. Nothing brings any lasting comfort or excitement.

But I know that will change next week. That's right, it's week-before-period time, and that means the misery will be back and I'll feel like absolute detritus. Because that's what always happens. http://www.webmd.com/depression/news/20050128/depression-symptoms-worsen-before-menstruation

It'll be okay, because I know how to deal with it. But I don't know how to deal with this. It's almost worse. I feel nothing!

Other than this new kind of Hell, everything is fine somehow. I can't speak for Stephen, but I know I don't do anything to deserve these blessings. Yet we have so many. And this rain has been divine! It's the small victories.

Poor Kitty

I don't know what I'm doing anymore. Driving home last night, I was thinking of what - if anything - I care enough to do anymore. And I NEVER thought I'd say it, but I was content with doing nothing. I am pretty much done trying. There's a point where you should just learn to stay down and crawl away. Haha! Like...I finally got an "in" in the mortuary field because of this angel from my ward. She just randomly introduced me to her dad and gave me her uncle's phone number (a former mortician and a current one, respectively). They offered me tips and advice and a bit of knowledge about how things work. I couldn't have been more grateful to her. I'm still shocked that she was aware. How??

Anyway, all that needs to be done is a resume. And mine looks terrible right now. What can I say? "Fails most classes (except CJ, woo!)" "1.0 GPA at current school" "Hobbies: Reading, sleeping, and viola sometimes" "Last job lasted 9 months, quit because of fear"? Of people?! Sounds so stupid. And I know that's being a bit reductionist. I have taken Mort1010, I love thanatology, the majority of books I read are nonfiction written by medical examiners. And that's alright, but it gets bowled over by the negatives. Maybe I'm just being negative. And scared.


ENOUGH ABOUT ME!

So...my poor cat was sleeping under my left arm last night. I was on my back, and I kept getting nightmares. Nightmare after nightmare. One of them had like fire falling from the sky with billowing smoke trailing after them. A nuclear bomb emerged from the clouds and landed near "my" neighborhood (this took place at my parents' old house). And I was freaked about the aftershock, but it didn't reach that far. Somehow. But it woke me up anyway.

Another one involved a lot about past trauma stuff, and then it ended with my brother asking if I wanted to see this spider that was "like...fishing for another spider". I said sure (that's how you KNOW it's a dream), and then he told me Stephen couldn't come - and listed a reason I can't remember. Then I felt a spider on my left arm in real life and went to freaking punch it's lights out, but I just ended up - I think - smacking Millie who, in turn, scratched Stephen. I felt so bad.

And I remember repeatedly jolting awake and bothering her and Stephen seriously all night. With the 5th or so nightmare jolting me awake, I just decided to stay that way. So Millie is getting extra pets today. She's so sweet.

Vague

I'll be blunt. I don't understand vague or secretive people. Even to the point that it kind of annoys me.

I couldn't figure out why. Why does anything annoy us? Surely there is a reason. And I think I've figured it out. Firstly, there is no reason to be secretive except to hide things. And hidden things scare me. They evoke distrust. Why would you not be 100% open about this or that? Something is wrong. Or even maybe I'm not good enough to be told the truth. The devil hides in the shadows. Bad things cannot be done in light. Why hide most anything?

Second, it's a WASTE! It's a shameful waste. We experience life and gain different perspectives and learn different things so we can share. What stands out to me in life will not stand out to someone else What someone else gains because of their experiences, I will not experience. The most efficient way then, to gain as much knowledge and become as wise as possible, is to share. Share your feelings. Share your insight. Share your tragedies, your triumphs, your experiences, your knowledge, observations...whatever! Share it! Or you may end up taking so much to your grave that could've helped someone else.

It's like someone who learns there is a mugger in the woods by spotting him/her. They do nothing and keep it to themselves. Someone else will come along and may not see that mugger and get mugged. What good it could've done them to know beforehand! Maybe the police would've been informed and they could have prevented the crime in the first place.

Don't hide things. Don't be vague for the sake of being vague. Don't lie.

And do share what you know! Share useful insights and experiences. Share your thoughts and feelings. Your life! It could possibly help or inspire someone else. You never know.

I love Drag Queens

Have I made a post about them before?

Oh well. I'm doing another one.

Drag queens inspire me. They have everything I don't. They're confident, supportive, positive, strong (you have to be when you make a living impersonating a female), creative, generally honest, and forgiving. I feel like it comes from a place of hardship. With few exceptions, most of them sever relationships with important members of their family when they (1) come out as gay or (2) choose this profession. Before that, they've usually been bullied or (physically, sexually, emotionally) abused by father figures and peers. Along with a number of other hardships.

When all these things are bearing down on them and it seems as though everyone is against them, they have no option but to be their own cheerleader. They feign confidence until it becomes real. Then they find eachother and become their own support group. They can't hold grudges, because that will limit their circle. They become...maybe overly-accepting? If that's possible. Even when they're having a fight, they're civil to eachother. They're loving and candid in general. On the surface, coming from the context of the culture I was raised in, these men are not good role models. But, after watching them for so long and absorbing their world, it's easy to see that there is a lot of good to learn from them. It would be nice if I could channel them at will.

Anyway, if you want to see them in action, Youtube has plenty of videos. The world is at your fingertips!

Update 10/08

I just realize the last 3 or so posts are imitations of eachother. My bad.

So Tim has been giving off strange vibes the last couple of sessions. I don't know if he was having a bad day both times or if he's going through something (who isn't?), but I left both sessions feeling discouraged. I think he thinks I'm giving up. Or that I've stopped trying. He was not pleased with my confession that I've been holding off on calling a person at/going to the office (where I work for the time being).

I'd developed three sizeable mouth ulcers, I couldn't sleep, and my dandruff (which is normally well-managed) flared up epically. From like...3 days of going to work. And I can't even pinpoint what is bothering me so much.

Somehow, the rest of the session was spent with Tim telling me we sometimes need to "suck it up" and do things even if we really, really hate doing them. He's not normally like that. He has always said he'd be honest with me no matter what, but this just seemed uncharacteristically unempathetic. And he knows I push through things. He knows I do my best. It's not that I hate phones or phone calls, I'm scared. I get extremely uncomfortable anyway, but if I'm talking to someone I don't know, it's just horrific- and I can't handle more terror in my life right now. Just thinking of it made my eyes wet and my chest tighten. Even now, I feel like I do right before I present to a group of peers. And even that is preferable.

I cried for hours afterward because I felt so stupid. Even in the workbook, we're getting to the point of exposure, and I'm really not ready for it. I'm hoping DBT therapy, the kind my psychiatrist recommended (and the reason I sought a therapist in the first place), will not utilize exposure. Maybe I can ask him to use that method singularly. There has to be another way to "cure" me than shoving me into a pool of irrational fears and traumatizing the hard-wired reactions out of me. Seriously. I think this is barbaric - like something we'll look back on in 100 years and roll our eyes about.

I'd love to try ECT. I'm considering taking Paxil again, because it worked, but the side effects were intolerable. Perhaps it would be worth it at this point. I just want to feel better.