I'm tired.
I'm tired of having to fight for everything I feel because nobody else seems to care. I'm tired of having to hold everything in because, apparently, my needs aren't as desperate as everyone else's. I'm tired of coming last in everyone's lives.
Would anyone even notice if I disappeared one day? Some say yes, but honestly, how would they? I don't hear from most of them on even a weekly basis. I'm just the one they notice when I start talking like, well, this.
I am so completely alone. I can't.
Is what I do here even doing any good? Every post I put on Facebook, I ask that it get shared. I guess it's not good enough to warrant 2 seconds to hit the share button. So, this will be the last post unless someone can show me it's worth it.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Friday, December 26, 2014
Voluntary Cinderella
What now?
Cleaning has always been extremely cathartic for me. Every time I clean up or organize something, I always feel better than I did when I began. With the holidays here resulting in so many days off from work, I've found myself going a bit mad.
I've never been one to sit still and do nothing. My mother tells me that I never walked... I ran. I'm always doing something, whether it be cleaning, working out to my Richard Simmons DVDs (judge me, but they work!), or dancing, I never sit still. I would annoy everyone in class because I was a knee bouncer/foot tapper. Basically, I just had loads of energy. I still do when I'm manic, and cleaning became my way of releasing it.
What I didn't expect, however, is the emotional release that cleaning could have. I was thinking the other day about how I do feel better when I clean, and came to the conclusion that cleaning and organizing the house, and especially my room, was organizing the mess inside my head as well. So, when I'm off work too long and have too much time to think, or when I'm agitated, I clean.
I work at a school. School is out for 2 whole weeks. Needless to say... the entire house has gotten organized and a lot of it has been scrubbed down. ** Side note: It's super annoying that my computer keeps changing the 's' to a 'z' in organise.**
Since everything is clean, I'm now starting to move my entire room around.
The only song I can think of that is about cleaning is the Barney one, and I'd punch myself for putting it here, so this is what I've had playing while I've been cleaning.
"Stuttering"~ The Friday Night Boys
Cleaning has always been extremely cathartic for me. Every time I clean up or organize something, I always feel better than I did when I began. With the holidays here resulting in so many days off from work, I've found myself going a bit mad.
I've never been one to sit still and do nothing. My mother tells me that I never walked... I ran. I'm always doing something, whether it be cleaning, working out to my Richard Simmons DVDs (judge me, but they work!), or dancing, I never sit still. I would annoy everyone in class because I was a knee bouncer/foot tapper. Basically, I just had loads of energy. I still do when I'm manic, and cleaning became my way of releasing it.
What I didn't expect, however, is the emotional release that cleaning could have. I was thinking the other day about how I do feel better when I clean, and came to the conclusion that cleaning and organizing the house, and especially my room, was organizing the mess inside my head as well. So, when I'm off work too long and have too much time to think, or when I'm agitated, I clean.
I work at a school. School is out for 2 whole weeks. Needless to say... the entire house has gotten organized and a lot of it has been scrubbed down. ** Side note: It's super annoying that my computer keeps changing the 's' to a 'z' in organise.**
Since everything is clean, I'm now starting to move my entire room around.
The only song I can think of that is about cleaning is the Barney one, and I'd punch myself for putting it here, so this is what I've had playing while I've been cleaning.
"Stuttering"~ The Friday Night Boys
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
Warning: politics
I'm going to do something I absolutely hate and get a little political (backfire in 3...2...1...)
Yesterday, I watched a video of a young man "coming out of the closet." This was incredibly difficult for him, and honestly, I don't doubt for one second that it was nearly impossible. Coming out with any secret that defines or marks you as different is the most difficult thing anyone could do in our society.
It's not just the gay and lesbian community, though. There are countless rape recovery centres who have adverts alongside freeways, on the tele, and on the radio. I applaud anyone who has the courage to step up and admit they need that kind of help and the fact that we need that many centres breaks my heart.
What really irks me about coming out as gay, getting help as a rape victim, or what have you, is that there is endless support for these courageous people, yet coming out with a mental illness basically makes you a leper.
Trying to find a support group for those with Bipolar Disorder (around here, at least) is like a headless chicken seeking food. I have just Googled "rape recovery centres" and "LGBT support" and countless things popped up, but when I searched "Bipolar Disorder support groups," I got sent to a site that sent me to another site that was absolutely useless. I narrowed my search to include "Utah" and got articles from web magazines about the apparent Utah epidemic.
I am not now, nor have I ever dismissed the plights of rape victims or those struggling with identity, I just wish that there was less fear about and more help for mental illness.
Toby Keith~ I Wanna Talk About Me
Yesterday, I watched a video of a young man "coming out of the closet." This was incredibly difficult for him, and honestly, I don't doubt for one second that it was nearly impossible. Coming out with any secret that defines or marks you as different is the most difficult thing anyone could do in our society.
It's not just the gay and lesbian community, though. There are countless rape recovery centres who have adverts alongside freeways, on the tele, and on the radio. I applaud anyone who has the courage to step up and admit they need that kind of help and the fact that we need that many centres breaks my heart.
What really irks me about coming out as gay, getting help as a rape victim, or what have you, is that there is endless support for these courageous people, yet coming out with a mental illness basically makes you a leper.
Trying to find a support group for those with Bipolar Disorder (around here, at least) is like a headless chicken seeking food. I have just Googled "rape recovery centres" and "LGBT support" and countless things popped up, but when I searched "Bipolar Disorder support groups," I got sent to a site that sent me to another site that was absolutely useless. I narrowed my search to include "Utah" and got articles from web magazines about the apparent Utah epidemic.
I am not now, nor have I ever dismissed the plights of rape victims or those struggling with identity, I just wish that there was less fear about and more help for mental illness.
Toby Keith~ I Wanna Talk About Me
Sunday, December 21, 2014
My Lips Are Sealed
Anyone got a hammer?
If people, especially my family, knew how much I bite my tongue, they'd be shocked. I keep my mouth shut most of the time because, let's face it, my brain wants to be angry way more than I do. The thing is, though, nobody seems to appreciate, or even acknowledge this. They are, however, more than willing to point out and/or escalate the issue.
(I'm kind of overdoing the comma thing today...)
I try my best to not get angry and bite at every little thing. I try to be positive and understanding despite my brain and body screaming at me to "slap the stupid off their face." But no matter how hard I'm trying, I can't hold all of it in. On certain days, much like today, there are just too many annoyances and I can't bite my tongue anymore.
Nobody seems to care that I'm trying all day, every day. From the second I wake up to the second I fall asleep, I am on guard. I'm watching what I say, how I move, what faces I make, and taking incredibly detailed mental notes about how I feel.
Anyway... this should be Utah's theme song.
Hush Hush- Pistol Annies
If people, especially my family, knew how much I bite my tongue, they'd be shocked. I keep my mouth shut most of the time because, let's face it, my brain wants to be angry way more than I do. The thing is, though, nobody seems to appreciate, or even acknowledge this. They are, however, more than willing to point out and/or escalate the issue.
(I'm kind of overdoing the comma thing today...)
I try my best to not get angry and bite at every little thing. I try to be positive and understanding despite my brain and body screaming at me to "slap the stupid off their face." But no matter how hard I'm trying, I can't hold all of it in. On certain days, much like today, there are just too many annoyances and I can't bite my tongue anymore.
Nobody seems to care that I'm trying all day, every day. From the second I wake up to the second I fall asleep, I am on guard. I'm watching what I say, how I move, what faces I make, and taking incredibly detailed mental notes about how I feel.
Anyway... this should be Utah's theme song.
Hush Hush- Pistol Annies
Thursday, December 18, 2014
Nightmares before Christmas
I need my teddy bear!
No, really. I've been holding on to my teddy bear the last few nights because I've been having nothing but nightmares. I've always had them, it just gets worse every now and then and I can't pinpoint what causes it.
I'm not sure if I've told you lovely people about this before, but I've had a recurring nightmare since I was 6 years old. I have it at least once a week, and yes, I wake up trying to scream every time. I dream that I'm in a public bathroom, and when I look up, there's a dead woman hanging over the divider. And people wonder why I hate public bathrooms...
I won't give you all the details of my nightmares, because, well, the amazing writers at Criminal Minds couldn't think of anything that bad... But a couple of night ago, I dreamt that the darkness was alive, and if it touched you, you would become part of it. If you've seen I Am Legend, it's kind of like that. It scared me so bad that I actually jolted myself awake.
But it's not just night terrors, it's the dreams that are so vivid, I actually think they're real. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've woken up and smacked my wall trying to get up because I dreamt that I had moved my bed. Those dreams are, in a way, worse for me because I don't get restful sleep so I'm tired all day. Not to say I get restful sleep while I'm trying to run from the darkness...
Well, today, I was reading one of my books on Bipolar management (if I could remember which one, I'd love to tell you), and came across a part that said that vivid and violent dreams are common among people with the disorder. It was just a basic fact, but knowing that took a whole load off my mind! It's normal! Sound the trumpets! Join the chorus!
So, I know that knowing these dreams are normal doesn't stop them, but it makes me feel a little less weird.
This song doesn't really have anything to do with this, but it's called Rescue, so it has merit.
No, really. I've been holding on to my teddy bear the last few nights because I've been having nothing but nightmares. I've always had them, it just gets worse every now and then and I can't pinpoint what causes it.
I'm not sure if I've told you lovely people about this before, but I've had a recurring nightmare since I was 6 years old. I have it at least once a week, and yes, I wake up trying to scream every time. I dream that I'm in a public bathroom, and when I look up, there's a dead woman hanging over the divider. And people wonder why I hate public bathrooms...
I won't give you all the details of my nightmares, because, well, the amazing writers at Criminal Minds couldn't think of anything that bad... But a couple of night ago, I dreamt that the darkness was alive, and if it touched you, you would become part of it. If you've seen I Am Legend, it's kind of like that. It scared me so bad that I actually jolted myself awake.
But it's not just night terrors, it's the dreams that are so vivid, I actually think they're real. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've woken up and smacked my wall trying to get up because I dreamt that I had moved my bed. Those dreams are, in a way, worse for me because I don't get restful sleep so I'm tired all day. Not to say I get restful sleep while I'm trying to run from the darkness...
Well, today, I was reading one of my books on Bipolar management (if I could remember which one, I'd love to tell you), and came across a part that said that vivid and violent dreams are common among people with the disorder. It was just a basic fact, but knowing that took a whole load off my mind! It's normal! Sound the trumpets! Join the chorus!
So, I know that knowing these dreams are normal doesn't stop them, but it makes me feel a little less weird.
This song doesn't really have anything to do with this, but it's called Rescue, so it has merit.
Thursday, December 11, 2014
Whatever you say
R-E-S-P-E-C-T! Find out what it means to me! (bet you sang that in your head!)
I've known my whole life that my father will get his way no matter what and anyone else's opinion doesn't matter. Whenever I point this out, he'll say, "that's not true." My mother knows, my sister knows, people we see once in a while know, but he won't admit it. He just has no respect for anyone other than himself.
Well, since he never listens to me when I talk, seeing as how he cannot accept that he does anything wrong, maybe, just maybe, he'll read this.
Dear dad,
I really wish you knew exactly how much it hurts when you don't listen to what I say, respect my opinions, or look up something I have just told you. I have to ask repeatedly for something to get done, and even at that, I have to pitch a fit, complete with yelling, to get you to do something simple that could have been done in 5 minutes. When I try to rearrange something in the house, you say, "I'm used to it this way," and change it back. When I ask you to not do something, you ignore me and continue doing whatever it is.
Now, when you want something done (e.g. Clean off the counter, put my coat away, etc.), it must be done now. Not in one minute... now! I'd give an example of when you try to rearrange something, but it never happens, as proven by the claustrophobic's nightmare. When you ask me to stop, I do. That, father, is called "respect."
Just for fun... here are some examples of things I've had to pitch a fit about...
~The neighbor's lights.
~My trophy (16 years...)
~The bookshelf.
~The desk.
~The fact that you couldn't learn that saying, "you're sick" was only going to escalate the issue.
~My floating bookshelves.
~My picture getting framed (15 years and I finally had to do it because it was getting damaged!)
I could go on for quite some time, but...
I don't like getting that angry, but it seems like the only option. I just think it's funny that you don't like people yelling, yet that is the only way I can get you to do anything. And you wonder why I always go to mom...
The few times I've actually gotten through to you, you say you'll change. Yeah... that lasts no more than a week. I've come to accept that I will never mean enough to you for you to make a real change, but I've also come to accept that respect is an earned thing and you haven't earned it.
"Whatever You Say" - Martina McBride
I've known my whole life that my father will get his way no matter what and anyone else's opinion doesn't matter. Whenever I point this out, he'll say, "that's not true." My mother knows, my sister knows, people we see once in a while know, but he won't admit it. He just has no respect for anyone other than himself.
Well, since he never listens to me when I talk, seeing as how he cannot accept that he does anything wrong, maybe, just maybe, he'll read this.
Dear dad,
I really wish you knew exactly how much it hurts when you don't listen to what I say, respect my opinions, or look up something I have just told you. I have to ask repeatedly for something to get done, and even at that, I have to pitch a fit, complete with yelling, to get you to do something simple that could have been done in 5 minutes. When I try to rearrange something in the house, you say, "I'm used to it this way," and change it back. When I ask you to not do something, you ignore me and continue doing whatever it is.
Now, when you want something done (e.g. Clean off the counter, put my coat away, etc.), it must be done now. Not in one minute... now! I'd give an example of when you try to rearrange something, but it never happens, as proven by the claustrophobic's nightmare. When you ask me to stop, I do. That, father, is called "respect."
Just for fun... here are some examples of things I've had to pitch a fit about...
~The neighbor's lights.
~My trophy (16 years...)
~The bookshelf.
~The desk.
~The fact that you couldn't learn that saying, "you're sick" was only going to escalate the issue.
~My floating bookshelves.
~My picture getting framed (15 years and I finally had to do it because it was getting damaged!)
I could go on for quite some time, but...
I don't like getting that angry, but it seems like the only option. I just think it's funny that you don't like people yelling, yet that is the only way I can get you to do anything. And you wonder why I always go to mom...
The few times I've actually gotten through to you, you say you'll change. Yeah... that lasts no more than a week. I've come to accept that I will never mean enough to you for you to make a real change, but I've also come to accept that respect is an earned thing and you haven't earned it.
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
Titles Are Hard...
So, uh... I spilled soda all over my computer.
Last night was the Dracula of bad nights. It didn't just suck, it sucked the life out of me. And I'm gonna stop the vampire references before the sparkly ones make an appearance.
The tension has been building for awhile and I knew it was coming, but I didn't explode like I usually do. The balloon was punctured, but not it's just kind of slowly releasing. It's different... and weird... and I don't like it. Normally, when I explode, I feel better for a while until it builds up again. This time I feel just as bad as I did yesterday before the peak.
BAH! GAH!! GRR!!!
So I listened to something besides One Direction today. I mentioned Phantogram a couple posts back and they were totally my jam today. There's one song that is everything my mind is screaming at me. Yep... had that one on repeat.
Anyhow... I met with my therapist today. Side note: she's freaking hilarious! She told me how much progress I've made in self awareness. I honestly didn't notice, and yes, I get the irony there. I still have no idea what she means, but I'm kinda ok with that. She also gave me a new technique to release some tension throughout the day and I must say that I'm excited!
I've always been a paper destroyer, rolling, folding, basically killing whatever is in my hands, but apparently that is a good way to release tension. Who knew?! So I'm going to keep a piece of paper with me all day and roll and fold it until it begs for mercy (commence maniacal laughter)!
If you try it, I'd love to know if it works for you!
Celebrating Nothing- Phantogram
Last night was the Dracula of bad nights. It didn't just suck, it sucked the life out of me. And I'm gonna stop the vampire references before the sparkly ones make an appearance.
The tension has been building for awhile and I knew it was coming, but I didn't explode like I usually do. The balloon was punctured, but not it's just kind of slowly releasing. It's different... and weird... and I don't like it. Normally, when I explode, I feel better for a while until it builds up again. This time I feel just as bad as I did yesterday before the peak.
BAH! GAH!! GRR!!!
So I listened to something besides One Direction today. I mentioned Phantogram a couple posts back and they were totally my jam today. There's one song that is everything my mind is screaming at me. Yep... had that one on repeat.
Anyhow... I met with my therapist today. Side note: she's freaking hilarious! She told me how much progress I've made in self awareness. I honestly didn't notice, and yes, I get the irony there. I still have no idea what she means, but I'm kinda ok with that. She also gave me a new technique to release some tension throughout the day and I must say that I'm excited!
I've always been a paper destroyer, rolling, folding, basically killing whatever is in my hands, but apparently that is a good way to release tension. Who knew?! So I'm going to keep a piece of paper with me all day and roll and fold it until it begs for mercy (commence maniacal laughter)!
If you try it, I'd love to know if it works for you!
Celebrating Nothing- Phantogram
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
I Am Nobody
Have you ever thought to yourself, "I can't do anything right, can I?" This is an almost constant thought for me. My whole life, it's been one bad review after another. When I work really hard on something, it just gets worse. If I plan a party, maybe four people show up. When I decorate my own room, I get things like ,"Well it's not what I'd do." I told my sister once that I like to write and I'd like to publish one day. Want to know what she said? "You're not that good a writer."
I honestly have no idea why I'm even here. I mean, what exactly do I do? I get up, go to a job where I have to bite my tongue, I come home where I have to bite my tongue, go to bed, don't sleep, repeat. I'm not allowed to be me at any point of the day without getting told in some way or another that the real me is bad.
If I express any opinion I have, I get a lecture about how I'm wrong. If I try to give advice, it's wrong. If I suggest a place to go out to eat, you guessed it, I'm wrong.
So, I'm sitting in my room looking around wondering what I can wrap around my neck because I've just given up. I'll never be anything but a screw up.
I've used this song before, but I still mean every word.
"What If" ~ Five For Fighting
I honestly have no idea why I'm even here. I mean, what exactly do I do? I get up, go to a job where I have to bite my tongue, I come home where I have to bite my tongue, go to bed, don't sleep, repeat. I'm not allowed to be me at any point of the day without getting told in some way or another that the real me is bad.
If I express any opinion I have, I get a lecture about how I'm wrong. If I try to give advice, it's wrong. If I suggest a place to go out to eat, you guessed it, I'm wrong.
So, I'm sitting in my room looking around wondering what I can wrap around my neck because I've just given up. I'll never be anything but a screw up.
I've used this song before, but I still mean every word.
"What If" ~ Five For Fighting
Friday, December 5, 2014
The Children Descend
What is happening?!
So, I still work at the elementary school and it's getting weirder. Yesterday, one of the classes I work with had a bit of free time toward the end of the day where they could colour, read, or do a craft. For some reason, a few of them decided to just come talk to me. Then a few more... and a few more... Then, out of the clear blue sky, one of the girls wraps her arms around me and won't let go! This made all the others basically attack me in a massive group hug!
All night long I was awake, trying to think of why they would do that. I mean, don't they know me? Don't they know how cranky, self-conscious, and awkward I am? But then I remembered... this school is the weirdest and most amazing school I've ever seen. Boys and girls playing together no matter if it's football, hands up-stands up, wall ball, or jump rope. Girls, boys, special needs, and regular education kids. They don't care if you're short, fat, socially awkward, or even if you have a mental illness. They see the heart instead of the head.
These kids are truly amazing and I hope that as they grow up, they'll never lose that piece of acceptance that we all seem to. And maybe one day, they'll know exactly what they did for a classroom aide they knew once.
Yes, this is a love song, but take the chorus out of context and it's pretty awesome.
"Listen to Your Heart" ~ The Maine
Don't listen to the voices in your head, listen to your heart.
So, I still work at the elementary school and it's getting weirder. Yesterday, one of the classes I work with had a bit of free time toward the end of the day where they could colour, read, or do a craft. For some reason, a few of them decided to just come talk to me. Then a few more... and a few more... Then, out of the clear blue sky, one of the girls wraps her arms around me and won't let go! This made all the others basically attack me in a massive group hug!
All night long I was awake, trying to think of why they would do that. I mean, don't they know me? Don't they know how cranky, self-conscious, and awkward I am? But then I remembered... this school is the weirdest and most amazing school I've ever seen. Boys and girls playing together no matter if it's football, hands up-stands up, wall ball, or jump rope. Girls, boys, special needs, and regular education kids. They don't care if you're short, fat, socially awkward, or even if you have a mental illness. They see the heart instead of the head.
These kids are truly amazing and I hope that as they grow up, they'll never lose that piece of acceptance that we all seem to. And maybe one day, they'll know exactly what they did for a classroom aide they knew once.
Yes, this is a love song, but take the chorus out of context and it's pretty awesome.
"Listen to Your Heart" ~ The Maine
Don't listen to the voices in your head, listen to your heart.
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
I can't think of a clever title...
Bah!
So, it's basically winter. It's mostly, if not completely cloudy all the time and I'm just about ready to scream. Don't get me wrong, I love clouds when it's going to rain, but clouds with no payoff is rather infuriating.
A while ago, I posed the question to my Facebook, asking if everyone else is affected by darker weather, and it actually surprised me how many said yes. I mean, some of them are blessed enough to not have to deal with Bipolar, PTSD, depression, or any of this fun stuff, but they get a little low at night and during the winter as well. I actually wanted to shout, I'm not alone!!!
It's really amazing what you learn when you start being honest with yourself and start asking questions. I've always wanted to deny that I had any kind of problem emotionally or even physically, but since I came out of the dungeon of shame, I've found that so many people feel exactly like I do in some ways.
I love how I start a post with one intention and it turns a whole other direction...
So, basically, no matter your trials in life, just know that someone out there knows how you feel. You may have to look under rocks and down in the pits, but I promise, you are not alone.
This song has absolutely nothing to do with this post, it's just been stuck in my head.
Ready to Run~ One Direction
So, it's basically winter. It's mostly, if not completely cloudy all the time and I'm just about ready to scream. Don't get me wrong, I love clouds when it's going to rain, but clouds with no payoff is rather infuriating.
A while ago, I posed the question to my Facebook, asking if everyone else is affected by darker weather, and it actually surprised me how many said yes. I mean, some of them are blessed enough to not have to deal with Bipolar, PTSD, depression, or any of this fun stuff, but they get a little low at night and during the winter as well. I actually wanted to shout, I'm not alone!!!
It's really amazing what you learn when you start being honest with yourself and start asking questions. I've always wanted to deny that I had any kind of problem emotionally or even physically, but since I came out of the dungeon of shame, I've found that so many people feel exactly like I do in some ways.
I love how I start a post with one intention and it turns a whole other direction...
So, basically, no matter your trials in life, just know that someone out there knows how you feel. You may have to look under rocks and down in the pits, but I promise, you are not alone.
This song has absolutely nothing to do with this post, it's just been stuck in my head.
Ready to Run~ One Direction
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