Medical Update?

I've been feeling very horrible lately. It may be the fact that I went from 300mgXL Bupropion back down to 150mgXL. I did it because I wasn't noticing any depression-related benefits. I'd see spiders everywhere that weren't actually there. I blacked out at one point and completely lost track of time and didn't know where I was when I "came to". I'd get dizzy spells for no reason. There were good things too - like weightloss and even better orgasms, but the weightloss was caused by the induced anorexia. I was never hungry. I had to make myself eat. I remember once that I couldn't even eat more than fries and half a burger. ME!!

Anyway, I went back down to 150mgXL. The benefits just weren't worth the bad side effects. But now this isn't really working at all anymore. I'm gaining a lot of weight back (almost passing back into where I was pre any treatment), I'm absolutely miserable, and it's really hard to orgasm at all again. It's like it's no longer effective.

So I've been feeling pretty horrible. Useless. Waiting to die. Hoping my results are bad news...they're not so far. Blood tests are normal and blue nevus is not cancerous and is, in fact, not a blue nevus. They said it was vasculature-related and also a hemangioma. Which doesn't make sense because those are red to purple, are congenital, only grow on babies, and usually disappear by age 10. So I don't think they know what it is, but it's gone now. Just waiting on the 24-hour urine results now. Those are the most important as far as estimating kidney decline.

This turned into a medical update. Sorry.

It's just kind of hard to explain how I've been feeling. I just wake up and it feels like it's the same day just prolonging itself. I feel very empty and hopeless. But it's not like pre-treatment. At that point, I was ready to and willing to kill myself and actively hoping someone would crash into me or something. I was very sad. Now it's different. I'm not even sad, I'm just empty and over it. Just operating this body while my soul is somewhere else. Going through the motions of being alive and a person. I'm already dead on the inside, basically. That sounds so emo... I don't know. I'm only ever decently excited when I'm with Stephen - especially when we're eating. I'm so hedonistic about it, too. Now I'm eating a lot and all I look forward to is eating more - especially with Stephen. I don't even really look forward to sex anymore! And I used to be very active about that.

It's hard just to get out of bed and it's getting harder to shower every other day. When other people talk to me I just feel like everything I say is stupid and useless and it's just frustrating and headache-inducing to leave my apartment. I see Stephen in less than 2 hours. That should be nice I suppose.

I did it.

I did it.

I dropped all my classes last night.

And I already feel a little better. Of course I'm worried out of my mind about paying for things and all the future bad consequences of my choice, but as far as feeling like I'm doing something wrong? No longer.

It took a women's therapy group to realize what was going on.

No one was saying much (there were only 3 of us at the start), and the only other girl who wanted talk time was finished. When it was my turn, I only meant to get some advice on feeling so incredibly lost and overwhelmed. I wondered if it was normal - if it was just beginning of semester madness or something else. Quite quickly, however, more information on my life was necessary, and I tried to sum up everything that was going on.

I already feel overwhelmed and so far behind because I can't afford my textbooks yet because I'm waiting on financial aid that I'm having to do all this petition nonsense to *maybe* get it in the future because I lost it due to missing so many classes because I'm so mentally ill. I feel like a failure of a wife because I can hardly keep the house clean and I rarely make dinner - so what do I even do anyway? Why am I so overwhelmed with nothing? I feel apathetic toward nearly every single thing in my life. Is it the fact that I'm still expirementing with my medication? And on top of it, now I'm really feeling the pressure to have babies before time runs out. I know he didn't mean to rush anything and he said I could maybe go until 35 years old, "but sooner rather than later". If he didn't mean for us to start having kids pretty soon, why would he bring that up now? Why would he start telling me about a kidney team he knows of in Salt Lake?

And then of course there is the usual "Why am I getting a degree at at all? Will I ever be able to work?" It's been my life's dream since I was 5 years old to have a career. The first one being meteorologist, which I find hilarious now because I'm no good at atmospheric science. Let alone chemistry and physics. But now that I can plan for my future it's just like...finish at least one degree, have babies, and begin dying. That's what I expect - though I realize anyone can die at any time.

I digress, I told them everything. And they didn't really know what to do with it at first. One of the girls spoke up about her struggle with finding the right medications for depression. Another girl could relate in that she has a disease (much more visible than mine) that could shorten her lifespan. Those were close enough. Then they all began saying that their struggles alone were hard enough and that I had a lot on my plate.

And there it was.

Oh my gosh, I do have a lot on my plate!

Sometimes I feel like people around me try to ignore my problems because they believe they can't really help with them. They don't know that they do help by being there, and that's enough. But it makes me feel alone and different, so I try to ignore them too. I always noticed that things were harder for me than they were for other people academically. Though I could never pinpoint why. I thought I was like everyone else and that I was just somehow lazy or something. People were always calling me lazy. But I'm very mentally ill. I am very physically ill - and that will only get worse. It's like the ultimate vindication. People kept assuming the worst of my hygiene when I was getting frequent UTIs. They kept assuming the worst when I got bad grades - not that I was incapable, but that I was just being lazy, which hurt my feelings even more because I felt like I was always giving everything I had and still falling short. And I was hard enough on myself. My whole life's goal was to be successful and the best at my chosen career, and I could hardly graduate high school!

This whole time I was comparing myself to "normal" people. And I am not "normal".

Anyway, I just realized that I do need to take a break. And not to be ashamed about that. It's bad timing, but I can't handle whatever is going on right now while trying to go to school at the same pace as "everyone else".

I also realized (as I was going through the appeals process) that I've been going to different schools - not to follow my dreams, but to go wherever I could get aid - because I kept insisting on pushing myself instead of going at my own pace. As a result, I ended up losing aid at every school because of my bad grades. Now, my once-amazing GPA is rubbish and I'm quickly running out of aid. I've just ruined my academic career trying to be like everyone else and ignoring my worsening issues.

I believe in pushing yourself. I believe in pushing through things, but sometimes it's just better to go at your own pace. I can't be too upset that it took me THIS LONG to realize what I was doing. Before, I didn't have a chance of going anywhere without financial aid. Now, going back to a community college with a hard-working husband, I can have a chance. Heck, maybe I can get a job now that I'm not going to school full time and it's not a million bucks a semester (6 credits at UVU is nearly twice as much as 6 credits at SLCC)! I've ruined that too. My resume is junk mostly because of my mental illnesses and me not taking a hint. Though, I was desperate at those times, so I can't blame me for that either.

It's all coming together. It's taken a long time, but I can get an AAS in criminal justice at SLCC in 20 credits and then go for my AAS in mortuary science for thousands of dollars less than getting a bachelors at UVU. And, if I'm understanding my aid right, my pell grants run out in 2 semesters, so I'd never be able to get my bachelors there anyway. I may not have been able to get my associates even.

Anyway, this is just a rough draft plan, but I'm finally able to truly take control over my own education. I don't need to follow the money. That was so stupid, and it took a lot of time to figure it out, but it's better to let go after you've spent a lot of time making a mistake than to continue to waste time making that mistake.

There's also this:

I think it's about time I start blooming. At my own pace.

Going insane

I don't know what to do anymore.

I'm in school and people keep asking what classes I'm excited about.

The answer is none of them.

Not a single one.

The only benefits of staying in school at this point is to maybe one day attain my associates degree. Finally. My associates degree. I calculated it and this would be my 7th semester. That's enough, if I'd played my cards right, for a bachelor's degree after next semester. I've taken nearly twice as long as it normally does. It's mostly because I've been earning UW grades. Why? Because of my mental illnesses. It just makes me wonder why I'm even doing this. As it is, I'm going to have a very hard time holding a job. Why? Because of my mental illnesses.

I mean, the last job I had, I was able to keep for 9 months (I think). And I ultimately quit that one because of the monster assistant manager I had. Who would pick me out. It sounds so stupid, but it really happened. I was miserable. I hated going to work. I had nightmares about work, and not just at the start. I dreaded answering the phone - a big part of the job. I tried my best to be great at everything else just so I wouldn't have to face people. Not to mention the till, which I barely learned to run during my last few months there. Luckily, there was a gal who liked getting the till. Maybe because she was trying to avoid the phones. I'd rather have phones, so I like to think that we had an unspoken deal going on. Sans monster assistant manager girl, I think I could've maybe done that job for another couple of years. But not longer. I was quite stressed. The only real friends I had were Stephen and a paramedic student named Nate. He was rad. We'd share body stories and things we were learning. It's funny because I told him he'd miss me when he left, but he said he wouldn't (of course). Then he did. That was the sweetest thing about him leaving. And, after he left, monster assistant manager girl went supersayan.

Anyway, my point is that I just don't feel like I'll ever get anywhere with my life anyway. My doctor asked us if we'd been talking about having kids yet. I feel like my time for having babies is running out. So...even if I was to get any degree, what's the use? I'll be pumping out and raising a couple of babies in the next few years here. Then at least 5 years after that to raise them. By then, are my skills even marketable? Are they as sharp as those of new graduates?

I know I worry too much. It's part of the package, but I think these are all legitimate. As it is now, I go into school and I just sit there thinking "Oh no...we have to work in groups? Time to drop the class." "How much is this textbook going to cost?" "I'm supposed to have learned all of this since last time?" "How am I already so far behind?" "What am I even going to do with a criminal justice degree?" "College sucks." "Liberal education sucks." "How am I going to pay for this?" "Why am I taking this stupid class?" "Why am I here?" "What about mortuary school?" "Is there an easy way around all of this?" "There has to be something better out there." And then, before I know it, class is over. Just another 16 weeks of this nonsense.

Why does anyone do this? Where have all the tradeschools gone?

Cheating and society

I'm talking about marital cheating this time, ladies and gents.

I recently caught wind of a movement called #BreatheFire. It's a movement inspired by a woman (probably with good intentions) who criticizes Anna Duggar for staying with her husband. She makes some valid points. Anna was raised in a super-religious household. She married into a super-religious family. They don't value educating women in those circles, but this woman claims that's a contributer to the fact that she's staying with him. She says she feels bad for Anna for not saying "enough is enough" and leaving him.

I watched the show long before all of Josh's demons were exposed to the country. I know who Anna is. She is strong. She is kind. She is dedicated. Maybe overly so. I won't pretend to know what's best for her and her family. And I really think she should be thinking about herself alone right now because if mom is happy, everyone is happy. The inverse is also true. And she has every reason to leave right now.

But, regardless of what society preaches, leaving someone like that isn't always the best answer. We don't know all that was going on behind the scenes. And he's no different from a lot of men in this country. In fact, a quick Google search says 70% of married men admit to cheating. It was magazine.foxnews though so...take it with a grain of salt.

Either way, that's a lot of cheating men. Given society's thinking (and assuming that statistic is true), 70% of marriages should end in divorce, not the currently accepted 50%. And why is Anna being criticized at this time? She should be allowed to make her own decision without outside or inside influences. The implication is that she's weak and not empowered. She doesn't know her worth.

Well...a similar thing happened to me.

I'm not going to pretend we're even close to being in the same boat. No one is ever really in the same boat. However, I have been cheated on by someone I love more than anything in the world. It happened before we were married, but it still hurts today. Every single day.

I chose to stay with him and even marry him because I loved him and he changed. He truly changed into a better person and, according to him, it took seeing how badly he could hurt someone for him to realize just how shitty of a person he was. And he really was. Just a great liar, sneak, seducer, manipulator. I didn't see it at the time.

Since dealing with that incredibly painful blow, I've been humiliated, criticized, and called a liar. I'm not sure which one was the worst. I got way more guff about this than either of the actual participants! My jerk (a nice word) of a mother-in-law decided it was a good move to tell "many people" about this and, while doing so, criticized my choice to stay with Stephen. Because she didn't do the same? Does she think everything she does is the right answer? She must. Because that was her reasoning.

Forget her. My point is...why? Why do I need that on top of everything? And I "won" (a scrap of consolation) because, after having sex with me for the first time, he never went back. My therapist says to view it that way anyway. I don't really believe I won anything other than a better Stephen. And that was a good thing among a trash pile of horrible things. At least he knows how much he means to me.

And I was going to leave him once. I think it was about the time we were going to get engaged. He'd crossed my line once again and I was out. He cried harder than I'd ever seen before and promised to change. And he has. A LOT. But she doesn't know that. She doesn't know anything about me.

And we don't know anything about Anna. We all need to stop criticizing her and let her do what she knows is best for her. I don't think for a second that she hasn't considered leaving him. And neither should any of us. We shouldn't assume ANYTHING about her. And, when her final decision is made, we need to support it. Or at least not make things harder on her. For pete's sake.

EDIT: As a side note, I think it takes a LOT more strength to stay with someone who has done this than to drop them like a rock. Not that dropping someone is the wrong answer, but both have their place.

Private Detective

Remember what I was saying about private detectives not being able to help a lot of people? Or did I say that? Anyway, I always thought they only worked with lawyers and insurance companies to investigate fraud. And there are some who investigate extramarital affairs.

Well, there are apparently some who solve homicides. That's pretty neat. That job just went up in my book. If being a coroner, coroner technician, pathologist's assistant, or autopsy technician isn't in the cards, that would be my next career choice.

Though I'm not that much of a charmer, so it would be hard to get information from people. We'll see.

Deja Vu vol.1: My first job

Have I written this exact post before? You tell me.

I've been thinking a lot about these past few years. Since the end of 2011, my mental health has been deteriorating. It started, I think, with my first job as a waitress at The Utah Noodle Parlor in Ogden.

I was going to Weber State University as a criminal justice student. I didn't realize it at the time, but I wasn't doing well in school. And, though I liked where I lived, I certainly did not like living with other people. I was out of it, taking (medically prescribed) clonazepam to get through the day. I was incapable of seeing how miserable I was. Even now, I look back on that time in my life and I can only really remember what I learned in my classes, the good food I ate, and the long, destination-less bus rides I often took. 

Anyway, I was finding myself running out of money. Probably due to all the McDonalds I was self-medicating with. I also liked collecting the Coke glasses and beanie babies for some reason. I still have those. I looked everywhere for a job. I applied to a few places, including the flower patch (I've always wanted to work in a flower shop!). I was getting desperate, so I thoughtlessly walked into this restaurant to inquire into their waitress position.

I was interviewed on the spot and hired the next day. My first shift. I wasn't expecting that so soon. However, I was so happy to have a job! My very first job! I met some interesting people. First, the waitresses. One used to be a nurse. She was aged, but sassy and fun. Another one was a free, rebelious spirit, trapped in a middle-aged body. There was a very happy black man who cleaned the dishes. He'd give us candy. He was always in a good mood. There was a boy, the nephew of the current owner, and he was usually smashing the shrimp. They made amazing shrimp. They were famous for it! Actually, all their food was amazing, but a bit overpriced.

Then there were the cooks. One was reminiscent of a jersey shore member. And just as roudy. He was a young, tan buck. Always cracking jokes. There was another very grumpy, near-silent cook. I tried to stay away from him. Then there was the nice cook. He was so kind to me, even when I was messing up. He made me some bacon fried rice once. It was amazing. He was so kind. There was the hostess, who I didn't see much. She'd spent some time in jail. She was surprisingly friendly. There was an older lady about 65 years old, who sat at the front counter to take care of the money. She was on dialysis, and showed me her terrible bruises. Though she was kind, she seemed miserable. Now that I'm more familiar with dialysis, I can understand why. Then there was my boss. He had a wicked-awesome japanese last name. He was at leat half japanese. He was patient with me, but stern. He had a crippled hand, but he didn't let that get in his way. He was always so busy. 

Anyway, it's needless to say I didn't last long. A month. And the parlor didn't last long after that. Less than a year after I quit, the parlor closed it's doors. There weren't many customers usually. I think that was due to the overpriced food. I really thought it was tasty - the egg foo yong, the sweet and sour, the rice - but, per online reviews, customers didn't seem to like it as much. And I'm sure it didn't help that people who worked here would always give rave reviews along with a cup of sass. On almost every review site. Good grief.

Anyway, my experience wasn't great. My first few days, when I'd clean, I was always told to go faster. I'm thorough, but I'm also fast. I don't know what these people were on! I took a plastic grocery bag full of barf out of a bathroom trashcan. A BATHROOM trashcan. They could've easily barfed in the toilet! When I wasn't waitressing, I'd be in the back de-veining the shrimp. It smelled. It wasn't fun, but it was better than facing the customers. That's how horrified I was of seeing the people. The lady at the front desk would tell me that the customers thought I was good, but that I was too nervous. I know. I know that.

I think I remember literally shaking when I had to serve people. I did my best to stick through it. Just like...leave my body for a second, and let whatever was there take control. I was so worried I'd mess something up. To make a really long story short, I'd had 2 panic attacks and, during the fall-out of the second, I quit. It was so embarrassing and I guess I was really hard on myself from then on. And things only got worse.

Excited for my class!!!!

I love learning about all the ways someone could die. I love finding out what the body does before, during, and after death (pre, peri, and postmortem). I love how you can troubleshoot, induct, and deduct the mechanism of death. I like learning about the United States criminal justice system, especially in comparison to the systems in other countries. I love learning about the causes of violence and ways to prevent it. I love thinking about ways to reach an ideal future (though I realize it's near-impossible). I especially love thinking about the holitstic and complex ways in which a problem develops or lingers. I like trying to really find out what the root problem is and ways to solve it. I need to help people, preferably directly. I need to improve the world in some way.

What's a girl to do?

I keep thinking of mortuary school and how much I'm missing out, but it just isn't feasable right now. Stephen needs to stay in the area, and I've messed up and transferred so much that I doubt I'd get financial aid. While there is a lot of insecurity with that, I'd still love to go.

Anyway, I still love criminal justice too. I often think of getting my masters in criminal justice and becoming some kind of United Nations member or a community improvement planner in poor parts of America or 3rd world countries. Or just become a social scientist and write reports on problems that cause crime.

I think of becoming a private detective. I think I'd be good at it, but I would not like sitting around all day to do surveillance. I'm not that patient. Besides, who could I help? Small claims court litigants? No thanks.

Most frequently, I think of spending my time assisting a forensic pathologist with autopsies. I think of assisting a coroner with determining manner of death and whether it needs to be further investigated.

This upcoming semester, I'm scheduled for a class that delves into all the possibilities in criminal justice. I just hope I can find something that fits my goals, talents, and interests.