Friday, March 14, 2014

To the gym!

The time has come for me to once again notice that I have gained weight and try to do something about it. I think I have replaced self harm with over eating and neither are really proving to be healthy for me.

So I am going to try going back to the gym more regularly. I think getting some of the weight off will help improve my mood. The logic at least seems sound, right? Bah. It's all just part of the process.

Generally though I am starting to feel better. I'm not back at 100%, but I'm the closest I've been in weeks. Just acknowledging that I am feeling better seems to feel even better, if that makes sense. I'm just taking more time for me and squashing some of those annoying impulses to help people I have no real way to help. Some things are beyond my ability and I need to build myself back up before I even try to throw myself back out there to help.

I've also been inspired lately to write more, so I am hoping to post more stuff soon. Til then, I gotta go. Gotta finish this shift and then... The treadmill awaits.... *lightning flashes, thunder booms*


Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Feeling naked

So far I am not a fan of 2014. I am really hoping that I am getting all the bad stuff out of the way early and that the rest of the year treats me better. 

It looks like I *may* be on the upswing of these crappy little moments, but I am keeping myself from getting too hopeful. It only hurts more when you get knocked down. So instead of hopeful I guess you can say that I am hope-lite. It's shimmering there within reach but I'm not going to grab for it till the ground is a little more stable under my feet.

I think that I am finally dealing with my break up. I was just shoving it away the past few weeks, not actually dealing with it fully. I acknowledged it, but I didn't really let myself feel it, probably for fear of just losing it completely. I harbor no ill will for him, and I hope he holds no ill will for me. Sometimes people just drift apart. Lovers fade to friends and trying to be more when that happens just doesn't seem to work. I love Stephen. He is one of the best men I have ever met. I hate that we couldn't make it work, but I sincerely hope that he finds every happiness this world can give him, even if  it's not with me.

It's just a little surreal for me though. We are trying to be friends, and I think we are for the most part successful. I just have these moments though where I find myself going to tell him I miss him or try to be flirty. It's odd but I am trying to get through it. I think the hardest part is not wearing my ring anymore. I feel naked without it. I know that I could just suck it up and wear it, but I feel like it's a damned if I do, damned if I don't scenario. When I wear it I can't help but think about all the good times of the relationship, and they turn bittersweet since I know things won't be like that again. Of that same thought, without my ring, it's more real that it is over, which is probably another factor to consider as far as me dealing withy  the break up is concerned.

Blegh.
 
I will survive. I always do. It's just getting to that point that is going to suck. I hope that whoever may actually be reading this can bear with me while I find my footing again. Til then, all the love and light I can spare to all of you. Blessed be.

Thursday, February 27, 2014

I lied

This entry is going to be a hot mess, because I am a little scatterbrained and I am using my phone.
I apparently talk a good game, but seem to have a few issues actually following through with some of the goals I set for myself. I can go into all of the things that have been going on lately, but really, it all just comes down to I have slipped into one of my depressed periods and the thought of doing anything more than the bare minimum makes me feel slightly overwhelmed, which usually ends poorly for me.
I'm trying my best to crawl out of this hole, to be more honest with myself about how I am feeling instead of trying to make everything okay with lies.
I know that I have a lot of good things in my life that I should be thankful for, I'm not saying that I am ungrateful. People seem to be under the misconception that depression is just someone being overly dramatic about a bad day, or that self harm is only done by someone that wants attention. It's not like that at all, and I somewhat envy the people that have the luxury to think that way.
Despite only being 25, I have been fighting depression and self destructive/harmful behaviors for the majority of my life. I blame no one for my struggle, nor do I blame myself. Some people are just born with a predisposition to be depressed, and unfortunately I found unhealthy ways to cope with it. 
Some advice I've been given lately was to "just stop being depressed". It's not that easy. Depression isn't just something that one can turn on or off. It steals your strength, your drive to do the things that you usually love to do. Your brain just seems to misfire; I feel like my IQ drops to ridiculously low levels when I am depressed. I make so many simple/stupid mistakes when I am going through a bit of depression that it is ridiculous. For as far back as I can remember I've been told that I am "so smart" and "gifted" and these moments when I screw up something that should be so simple... It hurts. It just hurts. On top of everything else that I am feeling, I am overcome with a sense of failure. 
These episodes scare me in a way that words can not accurately describe. I have not harmed myself in over a year, and I am extremely proud of that. But when I am in this mode, the urge to just take the edge off is almost overpowering. Because that is what self harm is, at least to me. It's an addiction. An ugly, scary addiction that I will most likely have to fight against til the end of my days. That may be hard for some people to wrap their minds around, but it is what it is. I only ever left a mark where the general public could see a few times, before I realized what a reaction it had on people. All of a sudden people would be watching me like a hawk, shower me with sympathy and all of this emotion I just couldn't handle. So I became more careful about where I would cut. I could not deal with the disappointment and guilt thrown my way. People I loved thought I was trying to kill myself, but that's not it at all. I just hurt. Sometimes it feels like I am drowning, like I can't get enough air. It's like my chest is being crushed. It is in these moments that I panic the most. I have found ways to cope, but it used to be that the only thing I could do to make it stop was to cut. It is almost like I would bleed out that pressure. I could breathe as long as I could bleed. It's horrible, and I am not saying it is right, but that is what I felt like I had to do to survive.
I know that I was wrong now, and I do not cut anymore. The urge is there, but I know it's not a viable or healthy solution to my problems. 
I'm posting this as an effort for it to be a healthier alternative, though it scares me. I know people will read this and not understand. And that's okay. I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing this for me. It's not a cry for help or attention, it is simply an effort on my part to get out of my head, to drag myself out of this hole. There is a lot going on right now in my life, half of it I'd love to not be dealing with, but I will get through it eventually. Thanks to everyone that took their time to read this rambling mess. 

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Twas the week before Samhain...

Well it has been over a month since my last blog entry, which if you read it may seem like an eternity and that I have not been adhering to the task I set before myself, but I assure you I have. Instead of primarily working on my writing as I had assumed I would be doing, I found that I was more interested in my personal crafts, at least momentarily. I finished crocheting the blanket for my sister finally, and have been working on one for Goober (though not as much as I probably should). I've also been working on a few dream catchers and throwing myself into my Pagan studies, so while I may not have been writing as much as I have intended, I have still been productive. :)

That being said however, November is just around the corner. To those of you that may be reading this and are not in the know, November is National Novel Writing Month (also known as NaNoWriMo). It is a challenge set forth to anyone that has ever wished to be a published writer to write a 50,000 word novel between November 1st and November 30th. It will definitely be a challenge... but I think it will be fun to try.

With that being said, I am actually going to have to cut this short. Hopefully I will have some updates to post later. :)

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Kicking myself in the rear

Eh. I have been seriously slacking lately. I haven't written anything in months, haven't worked out in Goddess alone knows how long, and I have even started to fall behind in my personal studies. It was convenient to blame dad's heart attack, my brain cyst drama (which by the way the doctors have decided to just leave alone for now. I am to get another MRI in two years), but honestly I have just been lazy. I posted a status just a few days ago about how I need to get my rear in gear, so here is my first attempt.

I haven't actually "written" anything in quite a while, though it hasn't been because I haven't wanted to. I have ideas I would like to write about; dozens of ideas for stories and poems float through my mind daily. I find lately that when I try to get any of these ideas out of me, the creative juices stop flowing. Nothing comes out. NOTHING.

Now I know that may not seem like a big deal, but I am certain that if any of you out there do some sort of art, be it writing, drawing, crafting, etc., there is nothing more frustrating than not being able to channel that creative energy. Everyone deals with this frustration differently. Personally, it makes me want to scream. I love to write. At one time, I used to believe I actually could be a fairly decent writer. Bah.

So in an effort to release some of this pent up creativity, I will be trying to at least post a blog entry once a week. I am hoping that I will be able to post some poetry in some of those upcoming entries (or maybe, just MAYBE, a short story).

Anywho, this was just meant to be an entry to touch base. I am beat and heading to bed. :P

Thursday, August 22, 2013

A long overdue and hesitant update.

It has been many months since I have posted anything in this blog. I guess I have just been busy. It always seems to happen. You start to rationalize not posting something to yourself "Oh I gotta work late, I'll post something tomorrow", but tomorrow never really seems to come...

I guess I will give a quick run down of some of the events that have transpired since my last post.

1. Back in February I started talking to a man, and I am happy to say that we will have been officially together 5 months on August 28th. We talked for over a month before we had made it official. Neither of us had exactly had the best of luck in the past and agreed to take it slow. Stephen is exceptionally sweet, and I feel incredibly fortunate to have someone like him in my life. Almost immediately the poor man has had to deal with a bit of unpleasantness from my life, and he's still here... and hopefully will stay here for a while. *fingers crossed*

2. My father had a heart attack and had to have a triple bypass. He is doing fine now, but it... was not pleasant to go through. It was scary. Dad and I have never been close, but he is my father. I didn't, and still don't, want to lose him. He drives me nuts, he says ridiculous moronic things, and his sense of humor leaves a lot to be desired, but I still love him. He's lost a good bit of weight and is eating healthier, and we seem to be able to talk some now without screaming at each other. Things actually seem better than they were as far as our relationship goes, but its still far from perfect.

And now the most recent event in my life, the one causing me the most stress and the event that I am hesitant to even mention.... but I fancy myself a writer, and I tend to emote better through the written word than any other medium. Maybe it will relieve some of the stress I've been holding on to, and I can release some of the neurotic thoughts and worries that are constantly running through my mind anymore.

I guess I should start at the beginning. Six years ago, I started having horrible migraines. They would render me completely useless. I thought they were just migraines, took some Aleve, and adjusted accordingly. And that seemed to work for a while... at least until I woke up, unable to control my body as it started to seize. Unable to even open my mouth as I threw up...

That event led me to going to my doctor, who thought I might need to have an EEG, and who then sent me to get a MRI, then referred me to a neurologist which of course led to weeks of vague, disparaging answers. "The electrical currents in your brain are irregular." I remember "What the fuck do you mean by irregular?!" And that was honestly the only thing I heard for weeks. It was my senior year, already a stressful time, and the appointments full of non-answers were not helping me relax in any way.

Eventually though, they finally told me what they had found. I had a cyst on pineal glad. Because of it's size, they did not believe it to be the cause of my headaches. Because of where it was, it might contribute to my lack of balance, but at it's size, it wasn't unheard of to be completely benign. Finding it was circumstantial. I could have been born with it. It wasn't going to grow, but if I wanted I could keep an eye on it with regular checkups. My headaches were the product of my stress. And that was that. I found ways to deal with my headaches, and that was that. I got used to having headaches. I stopped noticing them unless they got worse than normal, to which I would just take some ibuprofen and go about my day. And for years, it was how I functioned.

Fast forward to present day. Roughly five months ago I started to have more frequent headaches. I figured it was just work related stress. Then I started to wake up with blood on my pillow and dried blood on my lip. I panicked. Immediately I thought about the cyst. I hadn't had it checked since we had found it. Did it rupture? But I was too scared. I didn't want to go through the weeks of not-knowing. Of wild speculations and worse case scenarios. So I rationalized it away. It was the weather. My nose has always been sensitive and prone to bleeding whenever it wants to (which coincidently seemed to be the case). It still made me aware that my headaches were getting worse, and that I could not remember the last time I had not woken up with a headache.

Right when I thought I might put myself through Hell with the doctors again, my father had his heart attack.

I didn't want to make a big deal about my own issues at that time. There was enough going on and I remember that I was not the only one that was stressed out and upset over the ordeal I went through last time. I kept my mouth shut, really only saying something to Stephen, and only in passing. He said I should get checked, but I still didn't want to do it. I was over reacting. I didn't want to get all worked up and have them tell me the same thing. Plus, with my headaches supposedly being caused by stress, it only seemed natural that they had begun to get worse (While I conveniently "forgot" they had gotten worse BEFORE my dad's heart attack).

Dad started to do better though, and my headaches were getting worse. I had always been prone to dizziness, but I was having more dizzy spells that usual. My headaches were more lingering, feeling like my eyes were going to pop out of my head. I started taking Excedrin migraine, because ibuprofen wasn't even putting a dent in it anymore. But I still didn't want to go to the doctor. I knew something was wrong, but I was afraid. I didn't really want to know. It is one thing to suspect something than to really know.

But I couldn't keep pretending that everything was fine. I started having issues with my vision. And the pressure in my head is almost constant, like I am wearing a hat too small for my head. So I finally went to the doctor. They ran tests and had me take an MRI, just to make sure everything was fine. Routine since they had found the cyst last time, no real cause for concern.

Until they called me and told me they were scheduling an appointment with a neurosurgeon because the cyst that wasn't supposed to have grown had grown. It had increased in size by 20%. Though still not "huge", I am to go to UVA to get a second opinion.

They originally told me this 18 days ago and the appointment has still not been set. They are apparently getting a team together at UVA for my second opinion. A team. To me it sounds like they may have already made their decision, they just haven't clued me into it yet.

I'm not the same person I was when I first found out about the cyst six years ago. I'm not leaving this to my parents to deal with. I have looked up what I could on this issue. Cysts smaller than mine have had to be removed. There are videos of the surgery online. And it is not without its risks. Blindness. Brain damage. Paralysis. Death. All those warm and fuzzy thoughts.

*sigh* The problem is I am obsessive and neurotic. I have thought of all kinds of scenarios, best and worst case. Can you guess which ones are giving me nightmares? As morbid as it is, I would prefer death to some of the potential outcomes, which only makes me feel like a selfish prick.

But... I am honestly just trying not to think about it. Eventually they will let me know what the next course of action is. And as weird as it sounds, it does feel better to have written it out. I'm not saying this for pity or anything, I just wanted to be able to get it out. It seems to be coming out at random points (usually when I am drunk) to poor unsuspecting people. Now I have control of the flow and its not as emotionally overwhelming. It is almost like it simply a statement of fact. I don't want pity. I don't want any undue attention, though if anyone that actually reads this would like to spare some healing energy for me, or more importantly my loved ones that are having to deal with this as well as my moodiness, it would be greatly appreciated.

On that note, it is late. I will try to be a little lighter hearted in my next post. I will also try to not wait seven months before posting again. :P Good night all.... and thank you for reading my ramblings.

Monday, January 21, 2013

Changeling *poem*

Forever trapped between the worlds
of mortal man and magick.
Warring hopes and dreams
within one mostly human soul
He dances with the spirits
with an eye on what was
and what is yet to be
While keeping one foot
one anchor
in the world of the mundane.
Part of him yearns to be free
to bask in the energy
to weave the threads of shadow and light
into a wondrous tapestry of prophetic vision
and yet...
the earthborn boy still has more generic desires
People to care for, to protect and to teach
To find another heart
that has a cadence like his own.
Human and Other
a continually shifting balance
ever changing- ever moving
all a part of the enigmatic spirit
behind an old soul's youthful eyes


*this is a rough rough ROUGH draft. Please critique and point out anything that seems a bit amiss.