Honesty will fuck you ever time

So my new job lasted a grand total of two days. I can’t really get into what happened with the whole thing, because I honestly don’t know what happened. What I do know is that there was legal shit going on and I don’t have to be apart of it. So that is fine by me.

So the job hunt is back on, but because I changed my schedule for my other job, I have pretty much all next week off. Which is fine I guess, but I’m not sure what to do.

The other big problem is, well, I’m still waiting on my Medicaid card so I can get my meds. I’m almost down to a two week supply, and then I have nothing. Nothing to keep my brain straight and I really don’t want to ask my parents for money. I want to an adult, and not cry to my parents when I need stuff.

Things have been crazy, but I’m not really sure how to put them into words. There is something that is in the back of my mind.

I had an ex-friend contact me to find out how I was doing. And I realize how angry I still am at them.  I feel like that it wasn’t a reaching out to see how I was doing, but more of, a water testing to see how I’m doing so he could weasel back in. You don’t ever tell anyone that you can be friends with them when they are health. Not with a disorder like this, because of one simple fact- I will never stop being bipolar, which means I will never be “health” per se. I’m sick, and it is chronic. That shit just doesn’t disappear. I don’t think my reaction was what he was expecting, I think he honestly thought that I was going to be excite to hear from him, or that I was still the mess that I was when he knew me.

Honestly, you can’t abandon someone in their hour of need and think that you can just come back into in later like nothing happened. No apologize no nothing. Just like you didn’t make a shitty choice and cut that person deep.

Now I am not really sure how to put into words everything that happened, but to make a long story short (Too late),  I got triggered and shit went down, epically. And I took responsibility for my actions, because I did over react. I was the only person to do so. I was the one who was really sick, raw, and animalistic. And I would be the first person to admit that. I never hid that fact, but people in the situation acted like I did.

So there I was, the fresh from the hospital and a suicide attempt, losing my best friends. It was a shit situation, and I honestly will admit it still hurts. But I know that they can’t make it back in, as it will only blow up the same way. And that is really a shame.

Now I don’t think he, R, understand what he did. I think he think he does, which is why I believe me reaction of shutting him out was surprising. But he forgot one fact about me:

When I say something, I fucking mean it. I told him he didn’t get to come back, when he abandon me. That he took my word of, we aren’t friends any more, when I was spinning and all kind of fucked up, because his friend, E, pressed every button, including tell me that I wasn’t worth investing in, and that everything that had happened to me as a child was shit I should just get over, because bad things happen, while in the same breath saying that because he loved my (ex) Friend, S, and she need to be protected from me. Someone who deals with the same issues as me, was allowed to use that as an excuse to keep me out.

To E, with love. Well, with Hate I guess. But yea, fuck you if you are reading this.

 

 

Did I mention that this was over a D&D game that I wanted to leave and his wife cornered me for 4 fours, in the early morning, to talk to me about why a decision was made, when it didn’t matter, I had left? Because of a game were one rolls dice, I lost two friends. My best friends. Because, I can only guess, S was scared of me, because it was hard for her to deal with the idea that her ‘Strong’ Friend was falling apart. And that seeing how deep things were going for me, that she need to avoid me. S, well, like R, seemed to use my attempt as a way for themselves to play the victim. I don’t think they set out to do this, but it is more of a product to protect themselves. S, saw how bad my anger could get when I told her not to come and get involved because I knew she would run off, began to avoid me. Everyone made excuses for her, but the fact is that she was avoiding me. And what made it more fucked up, is she was going around saying how much she missed me, and she would ignore my calls. The sad truth is I think she keep me out of the game for her own selfish reason. She was important in this role play, and in the one we played together, I was. I was because C, who was running it, said you become important if you play the character. That he rewarded your role playing. And I role played, she didn’t. And I guess she had a problem with it. And I played bratty and bitchy characters, and she took that out of the game, so in a sense, I was punished because I played fucking characters. Which is a big whatever to me at this point.

So, this is to R, if he reads this. I would have been more willing to hear you out if you have the balls, to, in short, be a fucking adult and take responsibility. I would have spoken with you if you had done that, if you had taken ownership of your actions. I would have been more willing to look at healing our relationship. But the fact of the matter is you didn’t. You pretended you didn’t block me, which the joke is on you, I know you did. You blocked me after our last conversation.  I didn’t block you other account. I honestly don’t know why, but I expect you wouldn’t be the last one to contact me from my past. If you want to have an adult conversation about everything, I’m a little more open to that, but no promises.

-Skadi

Well, this is a thing

This week has been all over the place emotional. My aunt B tried to kill herself.  It’s six days before my anniversary of the attempt. I got a new job that I will be started soon, once my back ground check is done. I’m growing up and out. But there are some things I want to talk about.

Everyone says that suicide is a selfish act. The fact is, I don’t believe it is. I think that ignoring the signs are the selfish act itself. It is easy for us to say things like that when love ones attempt or to think it when we hear about it. But here is the fact of the matter, suicide is so much deeper than what is on the surface. We aren’t talking about people with healthy brains. We aren’t talking about health people when these things happen. My aunt B is a lot like me. She has been fighting depression all her life. And as I have said before, depression isn’t like what people think it is. It isn’t just being sad. It is something almost unexplainable, but will try.

Imagine that you are on a battlefield, not a modern one, but an ancient one, sword in hand, fighting a never ending battle between enemies. They just keep coming, and they are relentless in their attacks, breaking you down.  Now think about their faces, they are one that you know well. You know every ridge of their face, it is all burned into your mind. It’s your own face. You are fighting yourself. And you just keep coming. And you know your weakness, how to strike yourself down as perfectly as you can. And you can’t stop it. It just keeps coming. So you fall, because there is only so much a person can take. It just keeps coming.

I’m still depressed. I fight it everyday. And it has been almost three years. Three years of fighting. Last year, as I was nearing my second year, I couldn’t see the worth in fighting it any more. And since I build this blog on honestly, I spend most days looking for a reason to still fight. The truth it, I don’t know if it is worth it. I know we humans like to think we have a wonderful and privileged place in the universe, but the truth is we are like every other animal on this planet. We all have the same three drives, food, water, and breeding. That is what we do. Is there really a purpose too it all? I don’t know. I would like to think there is, but the truth is that I don’t know. I feel we spend our lives filling it up with things, and are really just passing time around.

Those are the thoughts I have. A lot. And with that kind of thinking, it becomes a why get better.

As some of you know, I post these on my facebook, for those I know to read. I have gotten messages I haven’t put here that sometimes burn into my mind. I don’t want to go into what has been said to me, but I know there are a lot of people out there that have these feelings, and I wonder who on my friendlist haven’t  spoken up.  There are also things that have been things said, not on facebook, but over the course of my life that makes me wonder if people truly understand what goes on in the mind of depressed people. It isn’t that I don’t want to be happy.  I would love to be happy. I was once told I was middle class and white, so what problems do I really have. Maybe I don’t have problems like some people do, maybe it can be seen that I’m just doing this for attention, but the fact of the matter is this is my life. This is something I have to live with. My life is a war and sometimes I don’t see if it is work living, and sometimes not even the love from the people around me seems worth it.  I also get driven nuts by the people who don’t, and have never experiences depression try to give advice. Really, these people need to shut the fuck up. You aren’t helping by belittling my disorder. I understand that you aren’t trying to do this, but by saying things like, oh, you know when I get really sad, I just eat a bowl of ice cream and feel better. Really, if you think that it would work for me, that I wouldn’t have to deal with that. Seriously, this is a huge slap in the face. Oh you got sad when your dog died? Well, I haven’t  showered in six days because I have a big, why the fuck bother, since I didn’t do it the day before. I’m sorry if this comes off a bit angry, but you need to understand that your sadness has a reason, my fucking doesn’t often.  So they are nowhere near the same.

I know this is a rant, and I can’t really end it, but I’m done at the moment, and feel this is a good spot to end.

-Skadi

Well, Now what?

So, I’m done with school. Eight years and two degrees now, and I have no clue what to do with myself.

Part of me thought this day would never come, but here it is. And its pretty interesting to be at this point in my life. I should be working on a resume and job hunting but here I am updated my blog. What a trooper I am.

I had an interview the other day, but I’m not sure that I got the job at all.

So I think I’m going to try and list out a few goals for myself:

-Get a full time job.

-Make a budget- My spending is a little bit out of control and I need to reel it back in. Otherwise I’m never going to pay it down.

-Remember to enjoy life.

-Get freaking insurance- My insurance is up come Monday. I turn 26 and am kicked off. The good news, because I don’t make that much at the moment, I am able to go on medical. And my doctor was cool enough to make sure I’m covered for the month that gives me time to look for it.

I’m getting ready to get on a plane and heading out to St. Louis. I need this trip, and I can’t wait to see what adventures that I can get in. It will be nice to see family and I’m going to work on the job hunt as well, just because it is something I need to do. I need out of my silly kid job. I like the people I work with, but there are moments were you need to move on. I’m at that point. I will probably hang on to it for a bit until I can pay down some of my debt, which will give me a better set up for when I go to move out.

I feel like my life is about to began. I'm excited. Wish me luck!

-Skadi

OMG, One more to go.

I only have one more final to go, and then the job hunt begins. There is no rest for the wicked.

I spent my morning at the DMV, to replaced a lost ID....And sure as shit the one I lost was in my mail box when I go home.

 

I was not that amused, but at least I have my id for when I go to St. Louis on the 24th.

 

I've been thinking a lot about the difference between a health person and a mental ill person when it comes to context with words. Someone on my facebook the other day made a comment about something that was really mundane and that it was depressing....

This rubbed me the wrong way. I know that it wasn't their fault at all, so I didn't say anything. But this is something we need to think about. That words have power outside of just the small things that we think about.

True depression is hard to describe. It is the feeling that no matter what, you are always going to be shit. That everything you do is shit. That everyone thinks you are shit and don't want to tell you. That they can't stand you, that there is something that you can't see that is attached to you. You just want to hid. To protect people from even having to be in your presence, because of how disgusting you are. It is not, Starbucks getting your latte wrong when you are having a bad day. It is being told that a person regrets ever meeting you.

 

Okay, I'm going to bed now, because I don't have the energy to stand or continue this rant.

Almost done with Finals.

I just turned in my second of four finals. Dear god, I don't know how I'm going to get through some of this. So close, and yet so far away.

I know how I haven't been writing that much here, as school it taking a front seat.

And don't feel too bad for me. I get a break at the DMV.

Manic- The After Math

It has nothing to do with my post, but I love it like no ones business

 

So I came down from my episode sometime last night. It was an odd experience just because I’m usually angry all the time when manic and not happy.

I have to speak with my doctor on Thursday about what happened, but I should be okay. Worst is a change in meds. I know I posted, which is funny because I wrote it the night before but the computer crashed. I went to my therapy appointment to take which surprised my J, my therapist as most people avoid their doctors because being manic is so fun and great. It was wonderful and a bit terrifying on some level. It felt like a crime to feel that good. I ended up bailing out of a class because I couldn’t sit still.

Part of the fear was that it might never end or I would go into a deep depression. It is usually what is supposed to happen, but J said I should be fine. Time will tell.

I also wanted to share with what I wrote when I was manic in class just to give you an idea what it was like when I was up:

I can’t sit still. I feel like I’m going to jump out of my own skin. How am I going to last til 6:45? I have no idea. I’m feel like I want to climb the walls. I want to write but I’ve got nothing in my head and everything in my head. I feel like I’m going to explode.

This is the first manic episode were I have had a positive experience. I’m honestly enjoying it, which I don’t think is a good thing.

Usually When I have a manic episode, I’m a complete dick. I’m mean, and I know it, I just say things before I have a chance to control what comes out of my mouth.

I have never felt like this before. I know it isn’t a good thing, that I’m going to end up more meds and lose this feeling. It’s a bummer but I know its better for me. I’m coming down now, but it is what it is.

~Skadi

just a little check in.

I really am not ready for this week. I know its bad, but I’m over school. It’s my last semester, last month, and I’ve really just been going through the motions and I know that I’ve been hurting myself in the long run. And I know why.

As my anniversary of the attempt is hanging out in my mind, I’ve been thinking about death. It is blending in my head and it becomes a question if I really have gotten farther from the point in my life, or if I’m just going through the motions. I've been thinking about friends that I’ve lost. I haven’t talked about it on this blog because of 2 reasons one, part of me doesn’t want to put them on blast for their choices since we do have friends that we share, and two, I’m still not honestly sure what happened aside from people wanting to fix me.

I was going to write more about what is going on, but I think it is best to make sure that I don’t go into it.

-Skadi

A small update- Sorry I’m not interesting this week

This Week is spring break. I haven’t been doing much, working on school work and trying to get ready for what I’m going to do afterwards.

There is another nagging thought in my mind, which is about the anniversary of my attempt. It’s a few months away, but it’s still in my mind.

Mostly because I don’t know how healed I really am. That is a strange thought to me,  I’ve been working on myself, reclaiming my life, but I wonder at the speed I’m doing it in. Some days feel better than others and some feel like I’m never getting better.

I’ve stopped writing fiction. It’s been months, but I have no desire to write. I don’t know what is causing this, but I think it has something to do with my meds. IT’s a bummer but I hope its something that will pass.

But that is all I really got for today, unless one wants to hear me talk about ink master. Which all I have to say is that if I was Kyle, I would have packed my shit and left when Jay came back saying that to me. It is clear that he is not going to get a far shot. Which is bullshit being that Tattoo Baby was in the fucking bottom the whole time and they didn’t give her half as much shit that they have him.

-Skadi

Don’t Panic!

My hours at work have been cut. By a lot. I’ve been trying not to panic over it and to focus on what I can do, which has been focus on one phrase, Don’t Panic. I have read the whole hitchhiker guide to the galaxy, this is one of those things that have stuck with me. So I have been trying to remind myself every chance I get, don’t panic.

I panic a lot. I have panic attacks, so much so that now I walk around with pills in my purse to counter act them. I’ve hit a point where I can talk myself down from some of them. I can talk myself out of having panics attack. It is a talent I never wanted to have.

By having this time off work, isn’t just about losing out on cash. It gives me time to panic.  To think about my triggers and I have to busy myself in order to keep the bad crap away. Even though I’m on meds, the triggers still affect me, and my brain is still very active. The meds don’t work like magic, taking away all feelings, but it is part of the way things go. It’s hard to turn it off sometimes. It hard to keep things pushed down and locked away. While this may not be healthy at all, it is a way to cope for now.

The truth is that I’m learning to be healthy. It something to work toward, and I honesty am not sure if I will ever be that. Or if I have ever been.

My mom saw I had issues when I was young. I don’t know what started this or why she decided I needed help. The first person that I remember talking  to was Brother B. The first clear memory of him that I have is sitting in a white wall, what I assume was an office, making clay people. I don’t clearly remember what I was talking about, but I’m pretty sure that it was my family, but I’m not sure why I was there, it is too far off. This started my life of living in offices.

In high school/middle school, I grew to kinda hate therapy. I had moved on from brother B, who I was bonded with, as we had moved across country. I was on to a new therapist, who wasn’t bad but not someone I felt that I could trust. Which caused me to start lying to her. I knew what to say to make it seem like I was okay. That I was okay. I started to believe it myself. That I didn’t have to open up,  I was okay.

I wonder how much different my life would have been if I had tried at this point in time. If I had found a therapist that I had clicked with. Someone I would have been honest with and gotten the help that I needed.

But that is in the past now, and I have to move forward.

-Skadi

I thought this fit. Don't ask why.

Reality- Stewing in my own shit.

I’ve been gone a while. And there is a reason for that I will get to in a second.

I’ve been trying to get out more, and get more, into life I guess. And truthfully, it’s fucking hard. Like everything, some days are better than others, but sometimes I feel like in a fog.

Recovery is hard. I feel peeled already, and having to dig into the wounds that have shaped me today to gain a beter understanding of myself and my disorder is fucking hard.

While I’ve been gone, things have been looking up.

·         I got a job. It took a while, and I felt a lot of rejection, but I’m in  job now.

·         I’m half way through my last semester. Two degrees at the end of May, which is a scary thought.

·         I’m trying to live more, which involves getting out more and not living in my room or on the couch more.

·         Been crafting a lot and clearing out my room. That has been one of the most freeing stuff going on in my life. I love it.

My therapist is the one who gave the quote for the title today. I do a lot of stewing in my own shit. She says it’s an AA phrase and my god is it a good one.

I want to come clean. I stopped writing on this blog for two reason:

·         The Alphabet thing was annoying me (Have no fucking clue what I was thinking.

·         And the most important. I felt it was fake.

I do no one any good acting fake, even when I wasn’t setting out to do that. I’m gonna be real from now on.

I don’t know when updates will come, what they will be about, but I want to give a view into my life.

So it will be here, the good, the bad, the ugly.

-Depressive Gal