Just A Daughter

"Silence will fall when the question is asked." ~Doctor Who (NERD ALERT!)

I back down faster than a balloon gives in to a pin. Why? My father. Have you ever heard "Whatever You Say" by Martina McBride? The chorus says, "I know you can hear me, but I don't think you're listening." This is my father. I can say something that I need or want, and he'll pass it off and just do what he always has. I have always said that he should have never gotten married, let alone had a family because he cannot, no, he will not change for anyone. He does what he wants, everyone else be damned.

When I ask his opinion on something, he'll say, "you usually ignore my suggestions." Yes, I do. Do you know why? Because that's how I was taught. I'll suggest things to him, he'll say "that's an idea," and forget it five seconds later.

We fight quite a bit because I believe that a man should be a dad; not just a father. He cut himself out of my life when my sister decided she no longer needed him. Ever since, it's been a one-sided relationship. I do what he likes, talk about what interests him, etc., but when I talk about something, he doesn't really listen.

There have been quite a few times where I've stopped talking to him; sometimes, for weeks, but stupid me goes back to trying. I don't know why I do. I always get the same result. I get hurt because he doesn't know how to be a dad.

Sure, he's been there to help out when I've had surgery, but even then, he's downstairs until I call (three freaking times) that I need something. He gets it and returns to his claustro-hell.

A father is supposed to be a pillar. The pedestal that every girl puts her daddy on is empty in my heart. He hurts me more than he cares enough to realize. I want a daddy. I want to be able to say I'm daddy's little girl. The sad fact is, though, that I never will. All because my father will always do whatever satisfies my father.

"Whatever You Say"~ Martina McBride

I'm Fired Up

I hate this. Make it go away.

No joke, I would much rather be in a depression than manic. I can't get to sleep, and when I finally do, I don't stay asleep. I overreact to everything. Whether I get angry or excited depends on a myriad of things that I feel like I have no control over. I'm hypersensitive to everything; I mean everything. Noises, pain, tickles, heat, and other people.

My mind is running a billion miles per second (you can read Blame It On The Train for more insight than I have the attention span to give right now). I can't put coherent thoughts together, which is really fun when trying to talk to someone new. I have no idea if this is connected, and would love to know if this happens to anyone else, but I get way more panic attacks when I'm manic (kind of like right now, for no reason). Breathe in, breathe out.

The really annoying part about mania is that I can't feel it coming on. Weird? Probably. I can feel myself slipping down, but the rise up never quite hits me as, "Hey! This is your brain! I'm going manic, so get ready!" I guess I just revel in the fact that I'm to a point out of the depression where I can get myself up, showered, and dressed and don't think anything of it. Well, I can tell that the depression is letting up, but I guess I just never think it'll get to this point.

I tweeted last night exactly how I felt about mania. I said,
"Dear mania,
You were not missed. Please return to the Hell from whence you came and leave me be." *I crack myself up! HA!*



"Fired Up"~ Hanson

No Words

What just happened?

I went to a new doctor this morning. Going somewhere new is always an adventure for my blood pressure. My anxiety spikes, leaving my hands red after just ten minutes of wringing. Add the twenty minute drive into downtown, and well, I don't even want to be around myself.

Here's where our adventure begins...

On my way down, The city bus decided to stop right in the middle of the lane, forcing those of us following to go around. I was half way 'round when the driver thought "now seems a good time to take out a tiny red car." I had to floor it so as to not get hit by him or head-on with the car coming from the other side.

Needless to say, I was already a bit wired when I got to the massive complex that contains every doctor you could ever need. Yes, pointless info. Deal with it. I had to ride the elevator with five people who had absolutely zero concept of personal space, and the old man in the back decided that those of us up front should have waited for him to get off first. Anxiety spiking...

When I got to the desk, I was prepared for the typical apathetic, all-business robots that run the medical field. I just about choked when the woman at the check-in was, get this, smiling!!! Then... she kept doing it while she checked me in. Weirdest part: she said more than was necessary to do her job! Actual conversing!

I was made speechless when the nurse was as, if not more personal than the lady at the desk! Granted, we found something in common right off the bat. Never underestimate the power of Doctor Who. The thing that knocked me down was the doctor (no pun intended). He was just like the nurse and desk lady. He listened to what I said, explained any question I had, and I kid you not, spent an entire hour with me! Usually, doctors rush you out the door (faster if you have Medicaid), but he made sure he went over the form I had to fill out before along with anything else.

I have found the best doctor in the world! I have no faith in any other doctor, but hey, I got the good one! I can count this as a good day.

"Perfect Day"~ Lady Antebellum

Movie Night

"Have you seen this movie?"

I'm constantly getting movie recommendations because, get this, it has a character who is mentally ill. Umm... would you, a diabetic, want to see every film with a diabetic character? No. At least diabetics are portrayed correctly in film, whereas the mentally ill are overdone and stigmatized.

When I turned on Netflix today, the ad at the top was for Benny and Joon. I'd heard the title before, but never knew what it was about. When I read the synopsis, I just about choked! It reads, and I quote, "Benny is the overprotective caretaker of his mentally ill but artistically talented sister, Joon, who falls in love with an eccentric comedian." So, if you're mentally ill, that it? You can't be anything else? I don't know about you, but I'm many other things. I dance, play an instrument, write, and do photography.

I watched Girl Interrupted because, well, I wanted to, but I've given up on watching anything that has been suggested after trudging my way through Manic.

One of the most stigmatized portrayals of Bipolar Disorder got the actress an award. Sally Fields in (the ever epic) ER. I'm not dismissing her performance, but her role was what ran through my mind when I heard those words put on me. She was the reason I was afraid of coming out with my illness.

Anyone who knows me knows that I have plenty of things to blame Hollywood for, but mental illness stigmas are the worst. Along with women's body image issues, what defines a "real" man, and 40 year olds playing teenagers, and in turn, making me look 12.

"I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell."
"Unwell"~ Matchbox Twenty

Just My Life

That awkward moment when...

I have no idea what's happening to me. Since that thing I'm forced to call "sister" moved back in, things I've worked on quite a bit are reversing and new things are popping up that I don't understand. I'm loads more angry, I'm breaking down three to four times a week, and my anxiety is always on red alert.

A couple of nights ago, she went out, leaving just my parents and me at home (the way it should be). It was like the world was right for the first time in a while. I was genuinely smiling, laughing, and just happy! When she's here, I suddenly hate myself, have no hope, and get dangerously close to ending my life.

My mom asked what the problem was- why I can't handle my "sister" being here. I still have no answer. I don't understand why my brain is reacting so strongly. I mean, my "sister" has never been a real sister. My parents even admit that she thinks about herself first, her friends second, parents third, and somewhere down a long line of people she'd rather associate with (like drug dealers and con artists) before me. She made it very clear, growing up, that she wanted nothing to do with me. I couldn't have the same shirt, same toys, I couldn't even like the same music.

She moves in here, whines about the same things every day, can't decide what she wants to do, says one thing and does another, but the biggest problem is: she comes in here after eight years of not living here and knowing what's going on, and judges me. I have a mental illness that , lately, I am understanding less and less. She sees some of my (increasingly) weird behavior and makes her own, narrow-minded assumptions that make her look even dumber than I thought, and make me angry.

Side note: I can say whatever I want because she doesn't care enough to read this.

Tonight is my ten year high school reunion. I live at home, can't get, let alone keep a decent job, I haven't been in a relationship in nearly eight years, and I have no foreseeable successful future. Today is just awesome...

"Welcome To My Life"~ Simple Plan

I'm Sinking

I've had it. I'm ranting.

Rant #1

I honestly and truly believe that Medicaid is useless. Getting any level of decent care is just not an option. I'm stuck with apathetic doctors just looking to get me out the door as quickly as possible so they don't feel cheated out of a ridiculous paycheck. They don't care how I'm doing, how I feel, or how my medications are working. They'll prescribe whatever drug they're getting kickbacks from to supplement what Medicaid doesn't pay, even though I tell them that I cannot take this one or that. All this after having to wait three months for each appointment.

Rant #2

Since my genetically similar female relative moved in two weeks ago, my life has gone to Hell. Her total and complete lack of respect for me and my things is out of control. I found out today that she has been using my shampoo. Why did I just find out today? Because she didn't bother to tell me, let alone ask if she could in the first place. When she invades my space, she'll (badly off tune) sing "it's the end of the world as we know it" and laugh like it's nothing. I cater to her, I made space for her, and this is how she treats me? Well, I'm done being the good sister. I'm going to hit the hardball she pitches out the park!

Rant #3

Monday through Friday, I am awakened by my sister and father. They don't seem to realize that talking at normal-to-loud levels right outside my freaking door is not alright. Then, common courtesy has always been lost on the narcissistic... When I wake up enough to speak, a rather annoyed "SHUT UP" comes out and suddenly I'm the problem.

Rants over.

All this, plus a few other things (I'll spare you the details) has been building up inside because, let's face it, I don't speak up. I try to say my piece and when it's shut down, I back down faster than anything you could imagine. Anyway, I blew up tonight. There was screaming, crying, cursing, and much more ranting than I've done here.

I hate blowing up even though it releases the crap that's all built up. The screaming leaves my throat sore, the crying makes my eyes red, puffy, and burning for about twelve hours, and getting angry is never fun in general. I really need to learn to speak up instead of backing down. Maybe this wouldn't happen so often.

"Something's Gotta Give"~ All Time Low

My Note

I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE!!!

After my last post, I was telling my cousin that I thought it would be weird to write what I would have written in a suicide note, even though I find that it helps sort things out. His response? "Yep! I know it helps sort things out! Been there, done that! To "normal" people that might sound weird, but "normal" people scare me!"

I've never actually written it, but I think about it quite a bit. When I feel like I've hit the end of my rope and nothing matters anymore, I start thinking about what I'd say in my suicide note. When I do that, I start to notice things that, at the moment, my mind won't let me see. Usually, it's the people in my life. When I start to picture who would come to my funeral, I see people that I don't necessarily talk to on a daily, or even weekly basis, but who still care about me.

Sometimes, when I feel like I haven't done anything worthwhile in my life, things that I have done come to mind. Things that may not seem like anything to anyone else, but, in the moment that they happened, made me feel good.

It's really amazing the things that you can think of when you're at the bottom, if you just let yourself. Every time I get to that point, where I think about writing that note, it helps. It gives me hope. I know it sounds weird, but it's true.

No, it won't cure me, nor will it make the pain go away. What it does is make me see the bigger picture; not just myself.

This song will almost always come to mind before I start thinking of all those people...

"Why"~ Rascal Flatts

5, 4, 3, 2, 1 More Time

I'm sorry.

I'm not perfect. I've never claimed to be. I know I let my emotions take control of me rather than controlling my emotions. Not that it's an excuse, but I've got quite a few emotions going on all the time. I just have to release them sometimes and, judging by the reactions I get, I shouldn't.

My genetically similar female relation moved in a week ago. Since then, I've been torn down so much, I can't even remember each little incident. This week has been pure Hell, and now, more than ever, I want it to end.

My "sister" is quite possibly the most condescending, self-centered person on the planet.

• She'll interrupt me and keep talking, but when I try to get back to what I was saying, she freaks out because "you're interrupting me!"
• She makes it abundantly clear that I'm beneath her because I can't work full-time. I've explained to her time, and time again that, not everyone can take whatever job pays the bills. Some of us have to think about it very, very carefully.
• She won't drink tap water and insists on buying bottles because "Britas aren't good enough."
• She won't wear jeans. Says they're "too casual."
• She'll sit there and whine about the same... freaking... thing... for an hour... every... freaking... day, but if I mention the same thing twice in one week, I'm being whiny and repetitive.
• She won't even read my blog because she doesn't "have time." And the award for 'Crappiest Sister' goes to...

Although, and I know she'll get upset about this, but she isn't the sole reason I'm ready to give up. Surprise! The world doesn't revolve around your ego! My father has become worse, as of late.

I've told you before about how the only way I can get him to do something is to pitch a fit. Well, now I think he's doing it intentionally. That's actually abuse, in case you were wondering. With my sister moving in, we've had to clean out her room (which was only cluttered in the first place because dad deemed it storage since he couldn't be bothered to clean up his hoarding mess in the basement). Most of what was in there was mine. I lost track of how many of my things were damaged or destroyed while trying to move it all.

Now, this wouldn't be such an issue, except for the fact that, when dad cleaned a space in the basement for my storage, it wasn't even a quarter of the space my sister's stuff takes. I can't even lie down in it and all my stuff is supposed to fit there?! Just another example of child favoritism.

I'm tired of being looked down on. I'm tired of it being made clear that I'm not good enough. I'm tired of having to get angry. I'm tired of feeling like an unwanted guest in my own home. I'm tired of crying myself to sleep. I'm tired of watching from the outside. I'm tired of living. I hate my life and I hate myself for holding on this long. I'm done.

"Vegas Lights"~ Panic! At The Disco

Dead Inside

I think I'm scaring my mom a bit...

Lately, when we watch an older movie (like "Trip To The Moon" circa 1902), I'll say something to the effect of "they're dead now." Okay, fine... that's exactly what I say, but still... When we go to the cemetery, I tend to actually voice my envy for the, umm... residents. I think, however, that the thing that would frighten anyone is what I said the other day.

In Utah, we have two seasons: winter and construction. You can bet that, once the snow clears, almost every major road will be torn up for one pointless reason or another. Anyone who has driven through a construction zone knows the familiar sight of flagmen. They're the all powerful beings that you either praise for the "slow" sign, or curse when they turn it around to the "stop" side right in front of you. Since I have been looking for a new job, I mused that this job would be perfect for me. No social interaction, super easy, and pays quite a bit. My mom, always looking out for safety, said that there are some of these people who are hit, and even killed every year. My response? "Fine by me."

Was I being morbid? Yes. Was I also being serious? Definitely.

This goes right along with the conversation I had with a friend of mine a couple of days ago. I was telling her that I truly and honestly see no valuable future for myself. I don't see me ever holding a real job, getting an education, or even getting married. How can I do any of these things when just the thought of having to talk to someone gives me a panic attack? Better still, even when I can talk to someone, I'm so used to people judging and subsequently rejecting me that I strike before I can get hit. People don't tend to stick around when the person they just met is intentionally pushing them away.

I have folded in on myself to the extent where I've pushed practically everyone away. I rely on books and my own, slightly (*incredibly) twisted imagination for company. Most of my conversations with friends, even through text, are no more than ten minutes. On Facebook, I generally hit "like" and call it good. Even with people I've known for years, I'm absolutely terrified to talk because I don't want them judging me. Side note: I love that I can't talk directly to people, but I'm willing to put my innermost thoughts into a blog that hundreds of people read.

"Trip To The Moon"

Ride Of A Lifetime

Oww.

Four and a half years ago, I had a surgery to straighten my leg. Basically, the doctor broke it, twisted it, shoved a rod down it, and pinned it in five places. I was stuck in a wheelchair for three months and had to relearn how to walk.

Exactly thirteen months later, I had to have yet another surgery. When my bone was twisted, it pulled on my Achilles tendon so much that I most literally could not put my heel on the ground. This landed me in the chair for another three months and had to relearn how to walk again.

Yesterday, I did something that I haven't done since the summer before the first of the two life-altering surgeries: I rode my bike!

It was incredible! I had forgotten how much I love riding! It was the best mood-altering high I have felt in years! The wind in my face, the speed... pure freedom! I was in the best mood the rest of the day!

The down side hit me this morning. My butt is killing me. You know how bike seats are. They're not meant to be comfortable. I swear, there's a convention every year to see who can come up with the least comfortable design. Add that to the fact that I haven't ridden in about five years, and you get bruises that make me look like I had gotten pelted with paintballs!

It was quite the exercise for my injured hand/wrist/whatever as well. Now, every time I move my ring or pinky fingers, a horrid pain reminds me, "I'm here!" At least I won't forget that my hand is still attached...

Neither of these pains will stop me from riding, though. No chemically designed pill in the world could make me feel this good! It's unbelievable!

"Unbelievable"~ Owl City (Feat. Hanson)

Avoidant Or Just Shy?

Avoidant Personality Disorder (as defined in the DSM-IV)

A pervasive pattern of social inhibition, feelings of inadequacy, and hypersensitivity to negative evaluation, beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated by four (or more) of the following:

(1) avoids occupational activities that involve significant interpersonal contact, because of fears of criticism, disapproval, or rejection
(2) is unwilling to get involved with people unless certain of being liked
(3)shows restraint within intimate relationships because of the fear of being shamed or ridiculed
(4) is preoccupied with being criticized or rejected in social situations
(5) is inhibited in new interpersonal situations because of feelings of inadequacy
(6) views self as socially inept, personally unappealing, or inferior to others
(7) is unusually reluctant to take personal risks or to engage in any new activities because they may prove embarrassing

I'll be the first to deny that anything is wrong with me, but every one of these criterion describe me. The DSM-IV goes on to say that APD is often diagnosed with Social Phobia and Panic Disorder With Agoraphobia.

Now, I'm not necessarily afraid of going outside, but I make sure that nobody on my street is outside before I go out. The thought of (a) having to talk to someone, and (b) not looking good enough or (c) not having anything interesting to say keeps me inside more often than not.

I was talking with my mother about this after the Hellish experience at the coffee shop, and she made a valid point: With all I've endured with Brooke (the bully) and the crap shower of "friends" I had in high school, I just expect everyone to be critical and reject me as a person.

I was just reading an old post (Just Another Figure), and I realized that my issue with criticism goes deeper than I thought. I've talked before about how my sister never approves of anything I do, but even something so stupid as her saying, "I wouldn't wear it" to my new jeans, hurts.

Going through all my old posts, I've talked about a few of these criterion before. Like in Socially Inept. The title alone calls out criterion 6.

I had never heard of Avoidant Personality Disorder until someone sent me a link suggesting this may be an issue for me. Looking into it, I must (reluctantly) admit that it seems to fit. Heh heh... that rhymed!

I'm not going to claim this on my long list of issues until I talk to my therapist and psychiatrist. The less I have on it, the happier I am.

"Learn To Be Lonely"~ Minnie Driver

Picture Of Hell

Nope, nope, nope.

So, last night, my sister and I went up to where the Utah State Capitol Building is so I could take some pictures. Whenever we do this, we crank up the stereo and dance and sing along like a couple of teenagers. It's a blast! I got some great pictures this time thanks to the fact that the sun was still up.

After the Capitol, we swung by to get my dad and the three of us went to this coffee shop that my sister knows with a great view. The second we got out of the car, I could tell that this wasn't going to be a piece of baklava.

Everyone inside were the type of people who think bathing is overrated and everything they wear/eat/whatever has to be natural (including the carcinogens in their cigarettes). Thankfully, my sister said that the view was out back.

As we walked through the shop, I could hear the music in my head get tense (like you hear in movies before you get the reprieve). I was expecting to be able to breathe deeply when we got outside, but no... Outside were the people who, in high school, look down on anyone who isn't driving a brand new BMW. Needless to say, the music went something like, DUN, DUN, DUUUUUUN.

I wish I could say that the whole time, I went through unnoticed, but the fact of the matter is, I don't fit either group and everyone was staring with their faces on permanent judgment.

Long story short, I managed to get out of there pretty fast, and, better still, managed to hold in my total and complete breakdown until I got home.

Instead of a video, I thought I'd share some of my pictures :)

The Changes

Things need to change.

The last few days (and posts) have been rather depressing. I'm sure you could see that yourself since you're just that smart, but voicing your feelings is... well I just... I lost where I was going with this.

I've been trying to be optimistic, but that's just not me. I've been indulging  my depression and trying to make it slightly better with Gilmore Girls and more chocolate than anyone should eat in a year. This helps, but as I've said before, music is my life. Nothing can change my mood faster or more efficiently than music.

Sometimes, I get on YouTube and find a song I like, then make a sort of chain by clicking on one of the suggested videos. It can take some weird turns, let me tell you! I've done 90's, 80's, YouTubers, interviews, you name it, I've done it.

I did a chain today that started with the video below and ended with a documentary about kids who don't age. Yeah... weird. Anyway, this totally made my day because I am, as I'm sure you remember, a One Direction fangirl and Batman is my all time favorite superhero. Side note: I would love to know what the boys would think of this.

Enjoy!

"Dark Knight Changes"~ Eli Thomas (??)

The Outcast

I really just don't understand why people don't care.

I've had people tell me that I write about something that others are too afraid to, that I'm a good writer, and that they enjoy my posts. In the last month, I've had two people share my posts. Yep... it really affects you.

I was scrolling through my Facebook just now and saw one friend post that she has had over five hundred views on her blog in one day. I had nineteen yesterday. She thanked her friends and family for sharing and supporting and attributes her number to them. I'm not trying to downplay her or her blog because she is amazing and so is her blog! I'm just curious why I don't have people who care enough about me or what I have to say.

I have asked, begged, and even bribed people to share my posts, yet nobody ever does. I've threatened to kill my blog a few times because of lack of interest, and every time I see others get that much love, I still think about it. I mean, if you like a restaurant, you tell others about it. Why, then, do you read my post, like it, but not share?

It has been this way in everything I've ever done. I go to a birthday party for a friend and there are so many people there. I could invite fifty people to mine and three would show up. I just wish that people could understand exactly how much it hurts to be excluded by the people who are supposed to care.

I may not be the most intelligent or sociable person, but you will never find a better, more loyal friend.

"Through The Dark"~ One Direction

What Goes Down, Must Come Up

Anyone got a white glove?

I just cleaned my entire room. Why? Because I got seriously annoyed. Things today have just been one fail after the next. My wifi was out for awhile, so I couldn't really do anything, so I decided to run a few errands. This is where my adventure begins...

I went to mail a package for my friend in Oklahoma, but when I got there, I realized that I had forgotten her address. Side note: the guy working at the post office was unusually nice for a postal worker. He even smiled! Then, I went to the pharmacy to get a prescription that I was told had been called in on Monday. It wasn't there. You want to know what was there, though? An old woman who couldn't figure out that, standing right next to me and butting in on my business was far from OK! Most pharmacies have a "privacy rope" that instructs patrons to stand a certain distance back, but not this one.

When I got home, I called my doctor's office and was on hold for, get this, fifteen minutes before someone finally picked up! Then they deny having told me they would call it in on Monday and say that it should be there tonight.

Needless to say, I was hopping mad! So I did what I usually do when I have energy: I cleaned. Maybe I should seek a career in housekeeping...

Now I'm just cooling down with a Cherry Pepsi, pretzels, and Gilmore Girls. I really need a job...

"Something's Gotta Give"~ All Time Low (totally my spirit song at the moment)

Simple Things

Did I stammer?

My biggest pet peeve is when someone either doesn't listen to me or hears something wrong and doesn't bother to ask for clarification. This is a daily occurrence at my house. The worst part is when I'm already visibly upset and get misheard. This will send me into "stare at the ground and shut mouth" mode every time.

My family has seen me in this mode so many times that I'm sure they know I'm upset, but it's rare to hear a "what's wrong?" Is it really that difficult to see that I'm upset? No. Someone I've never met could see it. Granted, I don't always want to talk about whatever it is that's bugging me, but it never hurts to ask.

The absolute worst thing anyone could ever do is know that I'm upset and completely ignore the fact. Like I said, I may not want to talk about it right then, but don't just go on talking about the schedule or, my favorite, tell me personal things about people I don't know and don't care about.

If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm upset. I'm sending a good friend back to her home in England, my computer keeps kicking me out of whatever I'm trying to do, and I didn't get the job that I (strangely enough) actually wanted.

Word of advice: when you see someone agitated or upset, ask why. It's not difficult. You never know how a simple kindness will affect that person.

"Appreciated"~ Rixton

What Doesn't Kill You...

There comes a time when you must stop thinking as a victim and start thinking like a survivor.

This is something I have said for quite a while, but have a hard time applying to myself at times. Most of the time, I don't think about my illness, but sometimes I just feel like the universe screwed me.

After nine months of working with my therapist (still the best one in the world!!!), I finally accepted my illness as a part of me, rather than a defining quality or even a separate entity. This was huge! Then came the diagnosis of PTSD. I'm still in Egypt on that (denial= the Nile), but every now and then it hits me in the face and I can't ignore it.

Fun example: A few years back, someone who I had always seen as this strong, indestructible person wound up in a coma. Side note: this is incredibly difficult for me to write. I rushed to the hospital where I saw this pillar of strength lying on a table with a breathing tube down the throat and tubes attached all over. For eight days, I went to the hospital and sat by the bed, praying for this person to not only survive, but to come back normal.

This story has a happy ending, but the image of that person on the table will forever haunt me. It intrudes my thoughts and turns dreams into nightmares.

Back to my point... When things keep getting piled on, it's easy to sit and pity yourself. I look at others who seem confident, have careers or families, or have loads of people who like them and I feel like, if I didn't have Bipolar Disorder or Anxiety that I would be just like them. I blame my circumstances for pretty much everything wrong in my life.

Feeling like a victim is OK on occasion, but making it a habit isn't. People always tell me how strong I am and I usually shut it down because I feel that my illnesses make me weak. The truth of it is, however, if you are living with a mental (or physical) illness, you are strong! If you're still breathing at the end of the day, you are a survivor!

"Stronger"~ Kelly Clarkson

Can't Think... Too Tired

Dear sleep,

I'm sorry we fought. I miss you. Please come back.

Sincerely,
Me


Have you ever had a night where you can feel every single stupid second pass? Where every tick of the clock kills your hope just a little more? This has been my last few days.

Sleep is crucial for everybody's health and well-being, but when you're on a medication that is supposed to knock you out... I've been practically catatonic. Especially fun at my interview last Wednesday.

I'm sure everyone around loves when I don't sleep seeing as how I get cranky and overly sarcastic. The really obnoxious thing is that, what people don't seem to understand is, when I'm cranky, it's not because of my Bipolar. Everyone has moods. Everyone has bad days. Just because I have an illness that messes with my brain and moods, doesn't mean every single mood is because of that. If that were the case, every single person on the planet would have the diagnosis.

The really fun part for me is the total and complete lack of coordination. My mind isn't in sync with my body. Half the time, I have no idea what I'm doing. I tried washing my hair with conditioner this morning, then tried to blow it dry with my brush. It took me at least a minute of trying to turn it on to figure out that I was holding the wrong thing. I wish I was kidding.

Well, since my brain isn't working, I'm going to leave it here.

In honor of The 4th of July...
"Made in America"~ Toby Keith

Politics, Anyone?

Self discovery is annoying sometimes...

For as long as I can remember, I have had panic attacks when I get angry or try to stand up for myself. It's not a pretty sight and it just makes the situation worse.

Fun example: A few years back, I got the front end of my car taken off by an imbecile who... well I'll spare you the details. ANYWAY... needless to say, I was raging! I got out of the car, already shaking, and when he tried to blame me, I started shouting and eventually got to a place where I couldn't do anything.

I have finally figured out why. My entire life, I have been punished in some way or another when I would get angry. At home, well, let's just say my father has never been "daddy." (Don't you dare let your thoughts wander down Abuse Alley!) At school, Brooke and her lemmings would just egg it on and when I'd get home in a bad mood... Not to mention the school psychologist who literally locked me in her office and cut me off from any social interaction.

I learnt that anger is an emotion that was punished at a very young age. Yay epiphany...

Now with all the ridiculous political crap that's going on, I get pretty upset just looking on Facebook or Twitter. There are accounts on Twitter who have made it their mission to end bullying. Kudos! However, now with the SCOTUS decision, these people seem to think it's alright to bully anyone who supports traditional marriage. I'm going to say this once...

Free speech is not limited to one point of view. Support for traditional marriage is OK! Support for LGBT marriage is OK! Not supporting one or the other is also OK! I promise.

Life would be so much less irritating if there weren't so many people who are perpetually offended. I hate politics because there is yes and there is no. I try not to get involved, but this one is getting beyond ridiculous. If you don't make your profile look like a bag of Skittles spilled, suddenly you're homophobic.

I've got friends all over every imaginable spectrum. I don't care what your preferences are, what colour your skin is, or what religion you are or aren't... I respect people. The only label anyone should ever be given is "person."

Well... that took a very different turn than I intended... I'm going to end it here.

This song has been stuck in my head for days!
"Appreciated"~ Rixton

The Pedal's Down

Well, that was telling...

Have you ever had something happen that reminds you of something you feel? Not sure what I mean? Allow me to explain...

Today, while driving, there was a car that had been creeping up on me (more like going ten over the limit) who decided that the yellow light meant "floor it so you don't have to wait." This left me the only car waiting at the light (since I'm apparently the only driver in the state who follows the road rules).

As I was waiting, quite a few cars started piling up at the light going the opposite direction. There were enough of them that they got the straight and left turn light first.

So I'm sitting there with all these cars coming right at me, and I'm thinking, "Lovely. I'm sitting here alone while everything is coming at me."

I've felt like this more times than I care to think about. It just seems like everyone is passing me in life and when crap shower hits, I'm left to deal with it myself. This year's high school graduates are ten years younger than I am. Most of them are going to college, or at least have some kind of plan. I've got people I know who are five years younger who are married, live in their own place, or have graduated college and have careers.

I've heard people say, "Never judge your chapter one to some else's chapter ten," but I'm on chapter twenty-eight and I've got none of those things people on chapters twenty-five or even eighteen have.

Things just seem to be spinning out of control lately. I lost my job, my independence (thank you, wrist), and the one person who has ever called me "best friend." Not to mention, people have tried to start arguments on Twitter. Hate to burst baiter's bubbles, but I won't. Arguing with strangers online is pathetic and a desperate cry for attention. If you want my attention, just say hi! I've got enough negativity in my life, I don't need yours.

Basically, I feel like I'm losing control.

"No Control"~ One Direction