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Monday, April 10, 2017


Veni Vidi Vici.

For some time now I've been anxious in my own home. I made my dad turn on the alarm back on after my mom leaves for work because I'm left the only one upstairs and I'm asleep. 

Another thing I've changed is that I've been showering at night when my mom's home because I'm too afraid to do it in the morning with my dad downstairs. But today I vici'd the crap out of that.

Today I got up, checked to see if the alarm was on, and jumped in the shower while my dad was downstairs! Huzzah! I had to keep reminding myself that no one in their right mind would break in in broad daylight with two cars in the driveway, but I did it! 

I went to therapy this morning and my therapist was quite excited that I had conquered my fear. I'm not so sure it's conquered just yet, but it's a start!

Veni vidi vici. I came, I saw, I conquered.

Sunday, April 9, 2017

Who Knew?

Well that was eye-opening...

My new med manager likes to run blood tests on new patients. She's got a form all ready with everything she wants checked. So I was a good girl, got my arm invaded with that pointy thing that I refuse to say, and got a blood draw.

When she got the results, she called me. Everything was fine with the exception of one hormone that I didn't even know women desperately needed. My testosterone level was at a 3. Normal for women is 50. 

Wanna take a guess at what low testosterone levels can do? It increases depression. Big time. 

Wanna take a guess what contributes to low testosterone? Birth control. I'm on a shot that's stronger than the pill, therefore causing lower and lower levels.

Wanna take a guess at the cost of an FDA approved testosterone replacement? Three hundred dollars every three months.

Wanna take a guess at how screwed I am?

I've got an appointment with my OB/GYN to discuss other birth control options. I'm not holding my breath, honestly, but we'll see. 

So if your depression seems to just hang on too long, ask your doctor to check your testosterone levels. Could do some good for women and men.

Saturday, April 8, 2017



I have a rare talent: I can get injured doing just about anything. I blew my wrist out when I was picking up someone's legs (don't ask), I blew my knee out when I turned around, and I threw my back out leaning on the counter. Well now I've blown my Achilles' tendon doing stairs.

I did this last Wednesday. Today is Saturday and I'm getting nowhere with it. Ok, maybe not "nowhere," but it still hurts to walk, cross my ankles, or put any kind of pressure on it without my walking boot. 

I'm telling you all this because, as we all know, physical restrictions can increase depression. I have had worse than zero attention span, my self-worth has plummeted, and all is like to do is curl up in bed and sleep all day. I've been going to bed earlier than usual because I'm just worn out. Thankfully, however, I'm not biting heads off, but my depression is definitely worse.

I'm doing the whole "rice" thing (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation), but the thing is just slow to heal. I'm even on 800 milligrams of ibuprofen! 

Prayers and good vibes are always welcome. I don't know how much longer I can do this... I may bite my own foot off.

Monday, April 3, 2017

Day By Day

Why not?

Not a day goes by where I don't wish I were dead. Doesn't matter if I'm depressed or having the best day of my life. Either way, I wish I could just die.

After seeing the fallout of a friend's suicide, I'm not a fan of taking matters into my own hands. I just wish that, maybe the train signal isn't working one day when I pass by, or what if that guy on his phone doesn't see the red light. Things like that cross my mind all day long. 

I tend to cry when I talk about this. Not because I'm scared to die, but because I can't get the one thing I really want. I'm a Christian, so my knowledge of an afterlife with no ailments is quite appealing. No more depression. No more anxiety. No more feeling like I have zero control over myself. 

Some people tell me that my pain is a reminder that I'm alive. They don't get that, to me, this is a bad thing. I don't know about you, but I hate pain. Physical, emotional, it all sucks! 

I guess my life is in God's hands.