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.

I know I should be working on other things but...

I’m down to two papers, a presentation, and one final. Then I’m done. It is so hard to think I’m that close and that I am going to be done so soon.

This weekend was a whirlwind. First, Friday I went over to my friends and we filmed our new youtube show, Pin Trashed. So Yea, I’m still not going to flat out name peeps in my blog, but I do get called by my name in that. Not a big deal I feel. That was after I worked eight hours, and with the med dose raise, I feel that all I could do was sleep. So while that was fun, the med dose raise has not been.

Saturday was derby, were I drank like crazy and won three pots full of money. That was a blast. And got to spend a lot of time with people, and then we watched the fight. So it all and all was a pretty good day.

Then we went to faire, which, for the most part, was a blast. I forgot my id and card at one of the venders along with a gift for my mom, but hopefully they will mail it to me. And I almost had a panic attack but didn’t. And we were able to get C a new doublet. He has had one for over 15 years and it was time to replace it. He looks great in it but I was trying to get him to buy a kilt. Because I think he looked good in it.

So that is what has been going on for the most part. I will try and do a better update later, but I honestly don’t think I will have the time.

-Skadi

Meme time

I was bored the other day and feeling lumpy, so I looked up a few bipolar memes just to see what would make me giggle. Here are some of the big gems:

Lived this. Still some days wonder about it.

 

 

When I was hospitalized, I went in on a Thursday night, and spend the weekend into that Monday. The first really night I was there and with the unit I spent 90% of time in, was Friday. Now the thing to understand about the hospital is that weekends have a lot less group therapy times and a lot less programs to go through, So there is more free time, so they do movie nights Friday and Saturday. (We managed to weaseled a third one Sunday because everyone was okay with us having one during a free time.) Anyways, I ended up watching Sliver Linings Playbook, which we ended up spending the rest of the time quoting and joking around with. Now I want you all to remember how that movie starts, for those who seen it. They show a Bipolar hiding not taking his medication in the first five minutes. Maybe not something people in a mental unit should be watching. Just saying.

Lamictal is on of the meds I'm on. One of its side effects is a deadly rash. Because it isn't like I have enough problems.

Did I mention that I get stress rashes sometimes? Yea, its an adventure, my life.

Just another giggle one.

This is what Prozac did for me. I couldn't really eat the first few weeks on it, then I was put on lamictal and it was EAT ALL THE THINGS!

I know people mean well when they say things like this. But this is something that I think about when these conversations start. That they have never seen my rage that is related to my bipolar. When people come over to our house that are my moms friends, I will admit, I tend to stay away. Just because it is hard to control my impulses sometimes, and I don't want to upset anyone. And sometimes I just can't handle people. This happens with my own friends too. Like yesterday, I had a panic attack before my parent's party, and had to take my Calm the shit down med. (It is a take as need med, thank god, because when I take it I pass the fuck out.) I missed 90 % of that party. Because of a med, because if I didn't take it, I would have been worse. I really don't want to turn this into a med rant, but there is a very double edge sword with meds. The meds that keep me stable, cause anxiety, and cause me to have panic attacks more often. And because I really am in the stage were we are still playing with my meds, weird shit does happen.

 I have said horrible things, like the time I told my mother that she should have had that abortion when she had the chance. I said that. To my Mother. To someone who loves me. Who would do anything for me. Who has spent tons of money to help me get control over my illness. Who dealt with my rages as a kid. And you want to know what we were fighting over? Dishes. We were fighting over the fact I haven't done the dishes. And that is the tip of the iceberg.

I know mental illness is hard to understand. That we as humans have a hard time understanding what a sickness is, when we can't see it. but the fact of the matter is I am sick. My brain sometimes over rides my thoughts with different things. Sometimes I react to things because I get triggered and I can't handle things. It is like a something takes over my thoughts.

So, in short, if you know me in real life, and I'm out in about when you are over, its because I'm comfortable with you.

Tee hee.

Fuck the guy who said this to me. Fuck him with a rusty rake.

Well, that's a few for now.
~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

Seven Years-Let the good times roll

Tomorrow my Fiancé will have been together for seven years. Its been a hell of a road. Just in the past two years, we have gone through a suicide attempt, a lost job, my diagnoses just to name a few. He is a amazing, staying strong through all this. On some level I feel like I don’t diverse him, because of this level of commitment. I honestly don’t know how he handled this, when I’m not sure I could handle it myself.

Soon, we will be moving on in our lives, hopeful me getting what I call a big kid job, us moving out of my parents’ house in at least the next six months, (my mom will be happy to read that) and myself graduating with two degrees in May. (Being that I will be turning 26 and all, it’s about damn time.)

I can’t wait for out future, I can’t wait for us to put our dreams together and make them from.

I can’t wait to see what the next seven years do.

-Skadi

Back Bends- Do or Do Not, There is No Try

Today, I did my first ever back bend. I’ve been trying to get into more actives and out more. So Yoga has become an outlet.

I’m not good at all. This is a fact I have accepted. But I do my best and  try to do the poses. I’ve noticed I fail at telling the difference between right and left. Or extending and redracting. But I get into it. The fact is, I’m what I always am in these situtations.

The clown. I don’t try to be, but it happens. I want to be the adult but can’t seem to pull it off.

But let me come back to the back bends. I have never been able to do it. I don’t understand why this is, but I used to think it was because I  lacked the ablity.

Today was different, I had help. The instructor had me holds his ankles and then it happened. I did the bend for the first time. It felt wonderful.

It made me want to ask for help more often.

-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.

Pride-“ When you look back at your wasted life, and you don’t see me.”

I have had an Esty shop for a while now, and have been starting to fill it with items. I have always been pretty creative, but this is the first time I am really trying to make something out of it.

It’s weird in the sense that I am taking pride in something. Surprising, possible something that people around me, is that I don’t have much pride in myself. It is something that I felt has always been an issue, since childhood, but there seems to be no way to fix it. After all, there isn’t a magic spell that just gives you pride, or a workshop that the end that just gives you the feeling that you need.

On some level, I have always felt kinda worthless. I think this really stems from the fact for most of my childhood, I bounced from a loving home to an abusive one. This seemed to have colored my whole life. My mom and Step-Dad B, have always been there for me, being the best parents to me as they could, and really worked on giving me a happy life. Then there is the other side of my life. My stepmother, the woman my mom and I would end up calling the witch with a b, was awful to me.  I don’t know what I did to make it start. When she was dating my father, things were great. My step-sister A and I were friends before they dated, and we enjoyed the idea of being sisters. It started out as something great and wonderful. But after they got married, something changed. I was an outsider. I was a spot of dirt on her clean floor. It felt that the very air I was breathing was somehow offensive to her. It was hard walking into that war zone every week. And most of the anger I have over this is too my father. The fact that he never protected me, isn’t that what a parent is supposed to do? Protect their child from thing that are trying to hurt them? Was I not worth protecting? My father never protected me from the abuse. There was a moment that he watched her shove food in my mouth and threaten to beat the shit out of me if I tried to spit it out. She held my mouth close, and let’s get one thing straight. I could have choked. She could have caused me to choke in front of my father. She told me my mother didn’t love me. One mother’s day I had gotten her and my mom the same card. I wrote mom on the one to my mom and step mom on the one to her because I had wrote them both personal notes in them and the witch with a b got upset. She wanted me to call her mom. But she wasn’t my mom. Remember asking if my mom was okay with me calling her mom, because I didn’t know what to do. She acting like I was a sexual rival for my father’s attention.

 And he let it happen. He never stood up for me. I was worthless to him too. He never stood up for me.

I would come home to my mom’s house so angry. I felt I deserved at least some of my father’s love but I was always in the back seat of his mind. I think he had the motto when it came to me, that someone else would take care of Skadi. That I wasn’t worth his time, and this shows in the fact that by the time I was ten, he had stopped paying his child support. I guess he didn’t see it worth it to make sure I had a roof over my head and food in my mouth, because my mom and my Step-dad, B, were picking up his slack. C, my Fiancé said it best, B is my dad in every damn way that counts. That brings me to my quote in the title, I think it sums up my relationship with my father completely.

And that is one of the things on my mind right now. How can I have pride in myself, when my own father doesn’t think that I’m worth it.

-Skadi

Dog pee

Right now, we are having work men rebuilding our deck. (It really need it, my mom fell through it) They are using the dog run to get things into the back yard. So the puppy can't just go outside when she needs too go. So we give her a short walk before we leave the house. Well, I went to go and lease her and she rolled on her back, and managed to pee on my face. This is what I have to deal with. Dog pee on the face.

At least she is one cute bitch.