Listening to Flyleaf and Paramoreeee!

So, I did go to the doctor Monday. The consensus was this: I take too high a dosage of medication. I take twice the normal amount of my anti-depressant and apparently I take a little over two times the amount of ADD medicine.

Yeah, not cool, right? No wonder we can't figure out my meds. I'm almost tempted to be like, "Okay, clean slate! Take me off all my meds and then start new!" That would be incredibly drastic, though. Incredibly. Drastic.

Instead, we're simply backing me slowly down on my meds until I get better. I have an appointment with my psychiatrist on Thursday, so we'll see what she says.

In other news, I've been hanging out with my sister, which is really cool. Bad news? Yesterday, I had three panic attacks. Not cool.

Unfortunately, I'm going to have to leave this at a rather short post because I'm running out of things to say (astonishing, I know).

It's Too Damn Cold!

Once again, I fail at keeping up with this danged blog. I'm gonna keep trying, though! Eventually, I'll get good at it. :)

So, not much has been going on with me lately. I've been playing guitar so much that my arms are having circulation issues because of it. Do you think that will keep me from practicing until I physically can't move my fingers anymore? Noooope. :D

Uhm. Ooh! I'm doing a WHOLE BUNCH better at knowing my own boundaries and setting them with other people. I even know when I need to separate myself from groups and take a break.

I've been having weird dizziness problems lately and it's getting really really bad. I'm going to the doctor today to see what the heck is going on because it's interfering with my life. Last night, I was so dizzy and nauseous that I was crying on the couch with my arm over my eyes thinking, "I'm going to die!" Yeah, it was bad.

I've been having issues with school lately, too. It's not so much that the people there are hard to handle, it's handling myself well enough to attend school on a regular basis. I'm trying, but it's so difficult, especially when my meds don't work right, I have people screaming at me in my head, I'm randomly so dizzy that I can't move, and I'm fighting this disease which is self injury.

I've also realized what a big problem this self injury thing is. I've been scratching, cutting, biting, etc. myself since I was like, twelve. However, I didn't draw blood that often and most of the time it was things like scratching a bugbite until it was so raw that I'd ripped a layer or two of skin off my arm or other body part and was bleeding and stuff. That, I just attributed to the fact that I pick at everything. However, I now realize that I was hurting myself.

Why, you may ask, would I do something so taboo? Why would I intentionally harm myself? Most people think that people who hurt themselves do so for attention. This is not always true. Sure, since the internet can give out information so easily, people have found that hurting themselves is a very good way to get attention, but there are some easy tells.

(I know I'm going off in random tangents, but I'll come back to other points soon.) Several easy ways to know that someone is not cutting, scratching, biting, etc. for attention are these:

They've told nobody. People who hurt themselves for reasons other than attention don't tell other people, because people will freak out and make them stop and they DO NOT want to stop. If they do tell someone, they usually are detached from their emotions and are doing so for very individualized reasons.

They hurt themselves in places that are easy to hide. Some places are the bottom of the forearm (long shirts hide it), the inside of the upper thighs (pants, duh), the top of the feet (shoes), etc. Sometimes, if something traumatizing has happened, they hurt themselves on the afflicted area. I've heard of people hurting themselves on their breasts, stomach, back of the neck, waist, hips, genitals, etc.

So there's a couple ways you can know if they're doing it for attention or not.

Why do I hurt myself? It's kind of complicated. You see, I associate pain with safety and affection. How did I end up doing something so messed up? I can't quite explain it, but I know that it has to do with my dad and the way he used to say extremely hurtful things to me. Therefore, I recreate those feelings by inflicting pain upon myself, physically and mentally. Not only do I hurt myself physically, but I say incredibly mean things to myself while I do it.

It happens like this: I have extreme anxious feelings and need to feel safe. Since I associate pain with safety, I hurt myself. Yes, I know, it's screwed up, but it's how my brain is wired. I'm currently rewiring my brain, but it's taking a long time.

Lately, I've realized what a problem this is because every time I find myself in an uncomfortable situation, I'm pressing my nails into my arm, picking my lips until they're sore and then using my teeth to scratch at them, yelling at myself in my head, and causing myself to be in situations where I'm very uncomfortable, such as making myself go out into the cold with bare feet and short sleeves or taking a shower that's so cold it hurts. I'm working on it though. Currently, I'm working on realizing when I do that sort of thing and then stopping myself. I'm doing fairly well.

In good news, I'm becoming more active. I don't sit around and watch anime all day anymore. I do productive things, like put music on my computer, do yoga, walk around, clean up, have conversations with people, etc. It's little things that make my day easier to bear.

So yes. That is what is currently happening. I'll post again later to let you know what's going on with my doctor's appointment and the such.

This Scene Is Dead But I'm Still Restless...

So the last thing I talked about was my bad day.

I've had several other bad days since then, but nothing like that. I tried going to school once this past week but that didn't turn out so well. However, I'm going to school on Monday! Period!

Frankly, I'm exhausted. I'm tiiiired and sometimes I feel like giving up and just becoming a hermit in my basement. Actually, being a hermit in my basement doesn't sound too bad. ...Anyway...

I was thinking about this crap and life in general when I decided I can't give up. Not only would that be a surefire way to keep my anxiety close beside me at all times, but it would be royally selfish. Do you realize how many people I can relate to? Do you realize that since I can relate to people, I can help them (if they'll let me)? That's a freakin' lot of people. People whose lives might be changed because of a little help from someone who has already been through the same crap. So I can't give up and become a hermit. I've got stuff to do.

Plus, this can't last forever.

...Right?...

Anyhoozle. Moral of the story: I'm not becoming a hermit in my basement even if the idea is sounding increasingly good.

Next order of business: I have written a song. I have written a beautiful song that I wish to share with the world. :)

I wrote this song like, four years ago? God, a lot of things happened when I was twelve, which is beside the point. This song is about a girl who is attempting suicide. (She doesn't actually kill herself - someone finds her and saves her.) It hints at her past, which is rocky and difficult. "Once Upon a Feeling" is an emotional song that I <3 to play on the piano.

Here is a link to me playing the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGVqVlq1TZQ

There's a version of the song on my YouTube that is the computer playing the song, but I think I do it better, even if the sound quality is kinda crappy.

Another subject change!

Just a random passing thought, but when I write my blog, I don't edit myself. I write out a commentary of what is going on in my head. I write like I'm talking to someone, even if that person doesn't feel like responding to anything I say, therefore making our conversation into a monologue.

If I were to write like how I write instead of how I think, I feel that the blog would lack a certain pizazz that I think it somewhat has now.

It is now 8:56 and I am getting very sleepy. I think I shall go like, sleep or something. Maybe I'll curl up and play video games. I dunno. But I'm getting off the computer.

<3

Bad Day

Yes, I had a bad day after my amazing day.

My bad day started off really amazingly. I rode the bus and the kids on there are so sweet! I love them to death. :) Special thanks go to Madison (who undoubtedly doesn't read this because she's in 3rd grade) because she's my special friend. :))

Kids are so adorable. Madison helps me feel comfortable and accepted amongst the little kids. Thank youuu!

So anyway. School was pretty good. I had no panic attacks. Good, right? Well, no. I'd much rather have panic attacks than what happened.

I had an OCD problem (which I'm going to talk to my doctor about because it's getting to be a big issue). You see, I was working on my psychology class and there was a picture of a brain. I had the compulsion, after seeing the picture, to saw off my head and take out my brain. Completely irrational, right? Right. So I went down to the office and thanks to Officer Woolsey and Mrs. Pacheco (or however you spell it) for helping me out. Then the fun started.

At first, I thought I was having disconesia problems. Disconesia is when one side of your body shakes uncontrollably, your tongue lolls out to one side, and/or you lay your head against one shoulder uncontrollably, usually as a reaction to a medication. I was having issues with my tongue not wanting to stay in my mouth, my head was cocked to one side, and I was like, "Great. This crap... Again."

Turns out, it wasn't that crap. After a couple of minutes, I started seizing, somewhat big time. I fell out of my chair and went into spasms on the floor off and on for ten minutes. It was scary. To my utter embarrassment and chagrin, all students were kept in their classrooms and nobody was let out into the hallways... Uh oh. Not only was I spazzing on the floor of the school office, but I was holding up the regular school day. Heh. Oops.

Approximately ten minutes after it started, my mom got to the school and by then I was exhausted and done with the spazzing. I was TIRED. Freakin' tired.

My mom and I have talked and we think it was OCD problems, and not panic or reaction to my meds, but I'm gonna talk to my p-doc next time I'm over there and see what she thinks. :)

Stay mentally healthy, my friends! ((:

Just A Short Blurb

BIG STEPS HAVE BEEN TAKEN TOWARD ME BEING FUNCTIONAL IN SOCIETY!

Whew. Lemme start from the beginning.

So yesterday I went to my p-doc and she decided to change my ADD meds to something longer lasting. Yesterday morning was rough. I had a pretty bad panic attack before school started but the rest of my day was okay.

And then, today, I had NO panic attacks! NONE! It was amazinggg!!! Then, to top off my fabulous day, I got to spend time with Mitchell :)

Yes. I had a faaaaabulous day today and I even went to school! :)

Listening to Bohemian Rhapsody (:

Just an update.

As always, there's something new going on. No, I don't have any downtime... Ever. I go from drama to drama, but isn't that just life? Now, let me clarify drama - drama is NOT fighting with people or starting rumors. Drama is the crap I have to deal with in every day life.

First piece of drama to be addressed: I saw my dad last night. Dad and I don't have the best relationship, in fact, one might say our relationship is rather bad, but at least we have a relationship. Anyway, I saw him last night. I was kinda nervous, but it was alright. He's had a back surgery but he's doing well... Sort of. He's bored and lonely, but that's kind of to be expected.

Next piece of drama: I got a new computer! \/\/007. (For those of you who don't read 1337sp34k, that says "Woot".) It's an old lap top, but I only paid like $130 (Yippeee!) and I paid for it all on my own so it's MINE. :D The fact that it's MINE means that A) I can say, "NO! Don't touch my computer!" and B) I'm more likely to take better care of it because I paid for it with my own moneyy. Now I can be on my computer and not have to get off when someone wants to use it. Yeeeeehawwwww!

Last piece of drama: I didn't go to school today. I was too nervous as to what would happen if I was there and mom wasn't available. Plus, my meds are pretty screwed up and I learned that my ADD meds only last for 4hrs., which is utter bullpoopie. Yes, bullpoopie. However, I am going to school tomorrow and then I have an appointment with my psychiatrist after school. Fun stuff? Sure.

So there ya go. Oh! Mitchell's and my 8 month anniversary is on Thursday! :D

OH! AGAIN! lol (I really need to get my thoughts in order before I start blogging, eh?)

This weekend, I spent time with Mitch, Kristen, Chris, and David (boyfriend, best friend/cousin, best friend's boyfriend, and brother, respectively) and didn't freak out! O.O I know! It was nuts. We went to the haunted maze and flashlight maze at Country Corner (Alpha, IL). I'll put their website at the end of this post. It was a blast! There are like, 400 people with chainsaws in that frikkin' haunted maze. Blech. It was fun, though. (:

And, last but not least, a snippet of wisdom before I log off. I've found that in order to do what you need to, sometimes you have to shirk your responsibilities. No, I'm not telling you to stop doing what you need to be doing, but in the words of someone I hold very dear, "Sometimes, you have to just live." I've taken that to heart. As someone who grew up believing that my well being falls significantly farther behind everybody else's and that responsibility was to be put before happiness at all costs, it's heartening to learn that sometimes just mushing on the couch on a Monday morning and not putting myself through that much pain and grievance is sometimes a good thing. Not every Monday, but once in a while, it's good to just be.

OMG I Posted! O.O

So I epically fail at this whole "blogging" thing. However, I'm gonna give it another go. A loooot has happened since I got out of the hospital.

We moved back into our house out in the country. Fun stuff, right? Fo sho. Our upstairs is getting put together (finally!) and we're actually living in a space with natural light shining in. O.O Crazy, huh?

I started going to GHSNorth, the alternative school. The staff and students there are really awesome. Well, the staff for sure. The students (most of them) have kinda avoided me. It's understandable, really. They already have their group of friends that I've never even heard of. I don't even have any mutual friends to be like, "Hey, you're friends with so-and-so, right? Well they told me to tell you hi!" and thus start a friendship. Nooope. And, to further alienate me from the student body, I have a panic disorder and nobody really knows what to do about it. I mean, I get it. It's scary and you have nooo idea what to do. The fact that I haven't really met anyone or made friends still sucks though.

However, I did make one friend. Her name is Sam (hahaha). She's really cool and we talk during classes and stuff.

I've made significant progress since starting North. I've got my panic attacks down to one a day and I even rode the bus today. Big yay! However, I also took a huuuge step back.

I scratched... Again. There was another incident where I scratched, but I didn't do it like this. This time, I wrote words. Not nice words.

So now I'm sitting at Mom's work, just chillin', blogging, not really knowing what to do with myself.

Oh, I'm seeing a new psychiatrist. She's really cool. She asked like, over nine thousand questions (which was good) and she gave me her input. I've been officially diagnosed with Major Depression, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and Attention Deficit Disorder. To add to that, my P-Dr. (psychiatrist) thinks I may have Bi-Polar disorder. Ughh.

So yeah. I think I've gotten you mostly caught up on what's going on. I can't think of anything else. I'll post more, promise. (: Bye now

Happy birthday?

I've been horrid about keeping up this blog. I'll try to do better, promise.

So school started. The first week, not bad. Only minor incidents, and on Friday, I had no panic attacks. :D Monday... Well, I don't honestly remember. Tuesday, I was so anxious I didn't go to school. I was so anxious it hurt... It hurt my stomach, my head, my muscles, everything. Wednesday, I attempted school but went home during first period because I had such a horrible panic attack.

Thursday, today, my birthday, I didn't go to school. I got dressed, I started to put on my make up, and had a panic attack. I went upstairs to talk to Mom and she was like, "If you can't do it, you can't do it." So I didn't go to school.

Guess who spent their birthday feeling like a failure? *points to self* Yep.

I guess my day got a little better when I went to see Dad. After that, I went to Red Lobster with mom and David. That was actually pretty fun... There was some good conversation and people sang to me. It was embarrassing and funny ((:

Then I came home and worked on a project. Everything was going swell until I ran out of tape. Now I'm freaking out because my project isn't done, it was due Wednesday, and I'm out of tape. Shit.

My logical mind (the one I should be listening to) says that in the morning, I can go to WalGreens before school, take fifteen minutes, and finish up this project. The not-so-logical side of me says a bunch of what-ifs and I'm freaking out.

So now I'm thinking about school tomorrow. P.E. isn't going to be good. I don't like P.E., I don't do well in P.E., and I'm anxious in P.E.. When I work out at school, my body produces adrenaline (like when I'm having a panic attack), and I freak out. Not fun. So I'm getting my class changed to Music Appreciation. We'll see how this goes.

I'm working on some creative things, too. Like right now, I'm knitting, doing needlepoint, drawing frequently, and writing music. Is it helping? I dunno. But I'm knitting booties so my feet won't be cold in the basement. (:

I believe this is enough of an update for tonight. So, goodnight. ((:

Uh-puh-puh Day-tuh-tuh (Update xD)

I've been doing fairly good. I'm on some meds that have been helping and I've had a quality of life that I haven't experienced in yearssssss.

..Until today. Last night, I had bad dreams, and lots of them. They were horrible. *shudders* All my deepest fears came to surface last night. I'm not strong enough to handle that and go to school. My anxiety level when I woke up was 8 or 9. [The anxiety scale goes as follows: 0 - No anxiety; 10 - panic attack] I've taken some meds and since then my anxiety level has gone down to a six or seven... Which is still too much. So I stayed home.

I found a website for people with anxiety problems... It's like, a forum or whatever. I'm hoping that it will be a good place to go. (:

In other news, I TURN SIXTEEN ON THURSDAYYY! Woot! I'm excited, can ya tell? I can get a jobbb! O.O

You may think, "Uhh... Shouldn't you wait to get a job?" Well, maybe. However, my quality of life has been such that I think I'll be okay. I'll tell you a secret: Today's problems were because I've forgotten my nighttime meds a couple days in a row. It's only a milligram of Abilify, but that milligram makes all the difference. (: Anyway, Mom's not going to let me forget anymore and I think this problem will be a one-time thing.

Excuses, Excuses

Obviously, I haven't written in a while. I've been having trouble with my medicines and such. In fact, I'm not quite in the mood to be writing right now, but I figure if I get started, I can finish my story at a later date.

I'm at school again. It's fun and difficult. My favorite class is German and I feel no anxiety there whatsoever. (: I really like American Studies so far, too, but there's SO MANY PEOPLE in that class! Ergh. Uh. My weight lifting class is going to be interesting... I'm the only girl. Hm. Oh! My last class of the day is Art. Fun stuff. The teacher is uber cool. ((:

So I shall elaborate more and talk about what's been going on... Later. But now that I've started it'll be easier next time I go to write. Toodles! xD

Finally! x2

So, now I tell about being in the hospital. For privacy reasons, all names have been changed and I refuse to tell you who it is.

When I was admitted, it was really late (early?) and I got to bed around 4 a.m. The first day, I slept through pretty much everything except meals. I was annoyed because nobody would wake me up, but I didn't ask anyone to and I needed the sleep.

The days kinda swirl in my head now, but here are the things of note:

My psychiatrist was a lovely Indian woman who got my meds right the first time. :D She gave me life advice, such as "If it's worth doing, it's worth doing bad," and "Give them the right to be a bad relative or friend." The first is helping with my perfectionism and the second helped with forgiveness.

The groups were good, and there were some really sweet people there. I've come to realize that it's the sweethearts who get the crap in life. Or maybe they're sweethearts BECAUSE they've had crap. Either way, everyone was really, really awesome.

Hmm. One thing that really stuck out to me, was the guy with no arms and no legs. We watched a video and it kind of made the forgiveness thing click for me.

I guess that's all of the relevant information. You'd think after five days of being there, I'd have more to say. Alas, that's all the important stuff. If you want stories, I've got those and would be more than happy to share. If you want details about procedures and the like, I've got those... They're actually rather interesting. I don't really have anything else to say, except feel free to ask questions.

Finally!

It is 1:43 AM, I'm not sleeping, and I feel like writing.

So, here goes. God, it musta been... Wednesday? I was home, David had a friend over, and I was upstairs in Mom and my bedroom, alone. Well, I got bored. Here's the strange part: Boredom was all that it was.

I was completely able to recognize what I was doing. I -chose- to do what I did.

Like I said, I was bored. I was thinking of things to do, and nothing sounded good. I thought about cutting, and was like, "hm, sounds boredom relieving." So I went downstairs and got a kitchen knife. I sat at the foot of mom's bed and started scratching at the inside of my leg. I scratched and scratched and scratched.

Then, I kind of stopped, looked at my leg and my knife (which was still moving on my leg at this point) and was like, "What the FUCK am I doing?" Then, I snapped... Kind of.

I felt rage and the want to throw things. So I did. This was no blind fury. This wasn't premeditated, either. I just got angry and decided to start throwing things. After I ran out of things to throw without traveling across the room, I stopped and looked at what I did. I screamed.

Now, let me backtrack just a little. As I was throwing things, I was feeling anger that diminished quickly. As soon as I was out of things to throw, I was out of emotion. As I screamed, something inside me kind of broke... Actually, it more like froze. My emotional self froze completely. I felt no emotion.

For someone who had felt only negative emotion for several weeks (I had a slight period of happiness recently... Other than that, it's been months... close to a year of near continual negative emotion), feeling no emotions at all was quite nice.

I was kind of freaked out, at first. You don't have to have emotion to think something is weird and not right. I wasn't used to feeling nothing, so I scrambled for the knife and was going to continue scratching myself, but David (bless his heart) plied the knife away from me.

Then it kind of sank in. My movements were like that of Gollum, almost, so I grabbed Fuffles (my baby blanket that I still have for comfort), the book I was reading, and sat on mom's bed in the AC and read until Mom got home.

David called mom and I refused to speak. [There was something about a closet in there somewhere after I screamed, but David noted it and I don't feel like going back].

When Mom came home, she was kinda frantic. She was crying, cleaning, begging me to explain what was going on. Lots of boring stuff happened, and then I ended up in the ER until about 10... 30. It was decided I was to go to Methodist Hospital. Mom and Uncle Bert took me home, I grabbed some stuff, and headed off.

By the time I got into bed (in the hallway -.-") it was 4:30 and I was zonked.

Speaking of zonked, I'm getting that way now. I will post more about my hospital visit next time. Until then, I hope this answers some of your questions.

Hehe Sorry.... Kinda

Dear Faithful Readers,

I apologize for being an unfaithful writer. Many people want to know what happened and how/why I went to the hospital. This information will come in time, my friends. My excuse for the past couple of days is that I just don't feel like sitting and writing it yet. I want to take it in and digest it first, then I'll give you my spin on it.

My excuse for this post being really short and of no real information? Cramps, and the fact that it's 5:48 a.m., I'm sleepless, and I should be sleeping. xD

With love and no regret,
Sammi

From Sammi's Mom

Hello to all of Sammi's friends and followers of her blog. As David said, Sammi was admitted to the hospital. After the first day, they changed her meds, after the second day, she started to feel much better.

I have gone to visit every day and have seen progress with each visit. Yesterday she smiled and her eyes lit up like they used to. Her demeanor is more expressive and and she is laughing. She says her anxiety level is about 5 which is better than the 9 or 10 she has been living with.

Thanks for all of the good wishes and prayers, we appreciate them very much!

A Post From David

Hey everyone. This is Sammi's younger brother, David. I just wanted to share MY outlook and perspective on things.

I'll start off my stating my mental illness. I have depression. I know, it's not as bad as Sammi, but it still sucks. I've had a few panic attacks so I know what she's going through. Well, where to begin... I've never written anything on a blog before. Hmm.

Some bad stuff has happened today. First off, I hurt my back even worse than it already was. As soon as I woke up, I went freerunning (if you don't know what it is, YouTube it. It's amazing.) with my friend Richard. We got up on this roof, and the only way down is to jump. Sooo, I landed wrong. It hurt. Next, I come home to chill, and I hear a scream from Sammi's room. I rushed up there, knowing she was having a really bad panic attack. She was standing there, throwing things. I asked her to calm down, no dice. She ran and grabbed a knife from her bed. I have NO idea how it got there. She ran to the stairs and was about to cut herself, I'm guessing, when I grabbed the knife from her hand and hid it where she couldn't find it. When I got back, she was hiding in her closet, shaking and crying. I coaxed her out and called Mom. She got off work early and came home to help. I'm glad I was there.

Last thing that happened? I had a near-cops experience. After the whole panic attack thing, this didn't seem too bad. Richard and I got up on a roof (a different one) to watch a softball game. I don't know what was going through our heads. Well, some apparently not-so-random guy told us to get down and go to him or he's calling the cops. We did, and he chewed us out about how if anything was broken we'd get arrested. Then a cop actually showed, and I got a free ride. Fun.

Well, after I got home I recieved a call from Mom. Sammi's being admitted to Methodist Hospital in Peoria tonight. I'm waiting here until they get home so I can ride along.

Please keep Sammi in your thoughts and prayers. I don't know how long this hospitalization will last, but I really hope it'll be for the better. Well, I'd better get off the computer and get ready to go before they get here. Again, please keep her in your thoughts, prayers, whatever. Your support is much appreciated, everyone.

P.S. If you read this and don't know me, you can add me on facebook. http://facebook.com/daid3oyd is the URL. Just have a note added saying something as simple as "blog".

ER Visit and Jacked Up Meds

>.> Last night, I was in the E.R. It sucked.

What happened was this: I got a buttload of adrenaline, and then about a minute later, I got incredibly weak, dizzy and lightheaded, and nauseous. Mamma took me and we sat on a bench. Ten or fifteen minutes later, I was finally in the car. The right side of my body was doing random jerking stuff that I didn't like and I couldn't control. Even the right side of my face and neck. I ended up with a big slobber spot on my right shoulder from where my tongue was lolling outside my mouth.

Kind of amusing: the Dr. told me to stick out my tongue, but I couldn't keep it in the middle. My dang tongue kept moving to the right side. Ungh.

Anyway, so the doctor (or rather, Physician's Assistant) was very kind to me... And he had a good sense of humor. (:

They made me get an IV. I hated it. If you ever have to get an IV, I'm sooo sorry. They pushed the Saline in and I could feel it in my throat!! And it tasted like helium. Eeeeew. Then, they gave me 25mg of Benedryl and said that in 25 minutes I could have the rest. That's a lot of Benedryl. Like, the little pills are 25, and aren't you supposed to only take one? Guhh.

So I told the doctor, "Doesn't Benedryl come in pills?" and he said "Yes, but the IV's faster." -.-" Humor me.

Then when the lady was sticking me, I asked, "Can't we sign like, a DNI or something? You know, "Do Not Insert"?" Mom was like, "No, that's already Do Not Intubate." Ugh.

I ended up getting the dang thing. If you have to get Benedryl injected for an IV, ask them to water it down. It burns. Plus, I felt nauseous and I didn't move my left arm at all because I didn't want to upset the stupid IV. I don't like needles.. Or long plastic things in my vein used to spread medicine around. *shakes head* No thanks.

So, at a quarter 'til 10, they gave me the other 25 mg of Benedryl and told me the Dr. wanted me to stay until 10. Woohoo! I got to leave at 10! ...Or not.

I mean, I'm sure they were working as fast as they could, but I really don't have much patience when I have alien objects stuck in my veins. In fact, one could argue that I don't have much patience period, and that gets amplified when I have foreign objects tampering with my bloodstream.

I ended up getting out around 10:30. Mom ended up taking out my IV around 10:15. Thank you, Mommaaaa!! She loves me. <3

I ended up walking out of the ER, no weird unwanted movement on my right side, but so totally doped up. *nods*

Anyway, the reason they think I was having these symptoms is because the Seroquil built up in my body and I had this reaction. I'm going to talk to Dr. B sometime today and until then my meds are on hold. Fun? Not really.

I'm in kind of a bad mood due to lack of sleep and this annoying pain on the left side of my nose. *shrugs* I'll be fine, though. Questions? Feel free to ask.

Oh, and yes, I know the doctors and nurses were doing what was good for me etc. Mom told me last night, "You know, you're a horrible patient." I looked her in the eye and said, "Yep!" Sorry, guys.

Texting While UTI of Seroquil is Just As Bad As Texting UTI of Alcohol X_X

Stress! It follows me around and whacks me upside the head everytime I think I've got something under control. Guh.

So, to start things off, I've had two fairly bad panic attacks in the past couple of days. Makes me glad I quit band.

My grandma's visitation was Thursday night, and that was nice. I mean, Grandma didn't look like Grandma and she was cold and stiff, but the people were good and we celebrated Grandma's life.

At the end of the visitation, they said the Rosary or something. How many "Hail Mary"s can you fit into one prayer?! Apparently a ton. Now, I don't mean to offend anyone by saying this. I could NOT be Catholic. *shudders* I'd fall asleep every sermon, if we didn't have to stand, kneel, sit, stand, sit, kneel, stand, kneel sit, stand, sit, kneel, sit. God in Heaven! I find Catholocism pretentious and annoying. Oh well. I guess that's why I labeled myself Neo-Pagan. I can believe whatever I want, and I still am a Neo-Pagan, where if you followed an organized religion such as Christianity, if you differed on one opinion you'd be a different sect of the faith. I'm just Neo-Pagan. Yayy! =P

Anyway, away from religious rants (which I've gotten into the mood for, thanks to Austin, Jason, and Quintsy on FB), I was talking about Grandma's visitation. After over 9000 "Hail Mary"s, we left for dinner. After I had eaten all three bites and filled up my stomach, I went to the bathroom. After I was done, I stood up, partially buttoned my pants, felt weak and faint, fell down, and woke up some time later to my grandpa's sister rubbing my back and my mom talking to me and shaking my leg. I was on the floor of the bathroom, hugging the toilet. My head hurt in two places (so I'm thinking I hit the toilet on my way down) and my stomach hurt really bad, so I'm thinking I had a panic attack while I was unconcious. Yay stomach spasms....?

After that, I could harldy walk. I was shamefaced and gimp. Ungh. The funeral went well and after she was burried, we went to a luncheon thing that had pasta salads that were disgusting. I mean, they probably tasted good to people who liked peppers, but... Blech. Red and green peppers are icky.

Theeeen we went home. I stayed the night at Kristens and yesterday morning we went to the "Adopt-a-Pet" thing at the mall. I played with some kittens (So cute!) and then we went shopping a little bit for Kristen. I ended up having a bad panic attack in the car and they took me to the hospital to see Mamma. She gave me my Seroquil and an adavan and I wound up knocked out.

All in all, it's been a pretty god-awful couple of days. Oh, and I didn't eat. From the time I passed out in the bathroom to the time I was in the hospital with Mamma, I didn't hardly eat a thing. So yeah. I'm stupid and my week sucked. Another addendum: I didn't take my meds the night I slept over at Kristen's and I didn't take them that morning, either. I forgot. = Forgetting is not good.

So yes. Just an update. I'll write more sometime when it's not 7:50 AM. xD

R.I.P.

Grandma Mary Catharine Baker-Brown died at 12:12 P.M. on July 12th, 2010. She was a loving, sweet, kind, and talented person. She may be gone from us, bodily, but she'll always be in our hearts and minds, forever and for always.

The visitation is going to be Thursday evening and the funeral is going to be Friday. We're staying the night in a hotel. Meh. )):

I have to go funeral-clothes shopping. I've got a-nuttin. Anyway, that's all. It's kinda stressed out around the house tonight so I'm going to do some yoga after I do the dishes. It's a very *sigh* kinda night. Anyway, that is all.

Beauty

Before getting into what I want to write about tonight, I want to do some housekeeping stuff.

First on the agenda: I've been talking to someone in WQAD News Channel 8 ...thing and so far, so good. I don't know if I'm going to have a segment on the air or anything yet, but it's looking nice. I'm thinkin' 50/50, but the optimist in me says the glass is half full. When Pandora released hope, I [in a previous life] snatched as much as I could hold and hoarded it. I still have lots and lots and lots of hope. xD

Next, I want to thank Dan Ash Photos for the pictures he's going to take later this week. I shall post as soon as I get them! There's a very good chance I may photoshop some messages onto them, depending on how they turn out. (: At times, I can be photogenic. Other times, it's like ...Eew...

Okay, now onto what I wanted to say.

I write a lot about the hardships of being a teenage girl with Anxiety, Depression, and a Panic Disorder. However, tonight I want to share beauty.

Having gone through what I have, I doubt that I will ever take a moment of true happiness for granted. I may not appreciate it in the moment, but I will soak it up and feel the happiness and joy. I won't say, "Wow, this is a good moment. I'm thankful for all of the one's I get." No, true thankfulness of good moments is when you let yourself feel them to the utmost.

Beauty, to me, is sheared of hair with three bald spots. Beauty is seeing green grass and blue sky. Beauty is the storm cloud overhead. Beauty is sitting in a classroom full of kids who all have their distinct group of friends, not knowing anybody, and being able to function without freaking out. Beauty is caffeine in the form of a Chai Latte with cinnamon. (Hot or cold, they're both BEAUTIFUL!)

Beauty is the sea-foam green of Mitch's eyes and the way they crinkle at the corners when he's done something ornery. Beauty is in the curls of Kristen's hair when she just wakes up in the morning. Beauty is David's freak noises. Beauty is Panda's pure, unadulterated love for music. Beauty is when Momma is taking care of a patient and you can feel the concern and love she emanates. Beauty is the smoothness of Chris's skin and the way his voice changes when he talks about something important to him.

Beauty is in the flashing moments when you see something so personal of someone that you have to look away. Beauty is sweat dripping down a farmer's face after a long day in the field. Beauty is in the infinite wisdom hidden behind the eyes of a small child. Beauty is lipstick kisses from Grandma and the expression on Grandpa's face when he looks at her.

Beauty is the purple color of some people's skin. Beauty is the freckles that span from cheekbone to cheekbone. Beauty is the voice of my aunt strumming her guitar and singing. Beauty is the contrast between young and old, dark and light.

Beauty is rolling hills, towering forests, sprawling plains, and looming mountains. Beauty is the smile of a triumphant child. Beauty is the simple meaningfulness of a hug.

Beauty is working your ass of for something you want so bad you can taste it. Beauty is in the sweat, the tears, and the hard work. Beauty is finally achieving your goals. Beauty is taking a stand. Beauty is knowing when to shut up.

Beauty is everything. Having gone through pain and hurt, I can see that. Yes, there is ugly. There is hate and pain and cruelty. But when I'm coherent enough to see the difference, beauty is so much more profound than ugly. Beauty colors my life and my worldview. I urge you all to sit back. Take a minute. Find something small and minute, something you wouldn't have noticed before and see the beauty in it. Find something touching, like Grandma's hands before she died, or the softness of her hair. The beauty of the dust particles swirling through the light beam entering through your window. Find the beauty in something ugly; the eyes of a toad or the bonds that war creates.

I urge you all to make this an exercise you repeat often. Step back from your life and find beauty in something insignificant or ugly. Sometimes, it makes all the difference.

Vegetarianism - Yum, Tofu :D

So I'm at Kristen's house and nobody else is up yet, so I decided to do a brief little update.

There are some things that I'd like to share with people, one in particular.

I've become a vegetarian. It's not that I'm one of those people who's like "Killing animals is wrong!! Stop the murder!". Nah. I just don't like the fact that other things have to die so that I can live. I don't miss meat hardly at all. Sometimes there will be something that I used to love that I really would miss (like roast beef lunch meat) I'll have a bite, but only a bite otherwise I get guilty. :P

My family are farmers and I realize that if animals aren't killed, they'd be overpopulated and that would be bad, so I encourage hunting and farming. However, I just don't take part in it. I still drink milk (I don't think I could ever give milk up, no matter what my convictions), eat eggs (although I've never really liked eggs all that much), and eat dairy products. The animals aren't killed/hurt when they get these products.

So yes, I wanted to get that out there. I'm not thinking I had anything else to say. However, that could be because I'm distracted by pretty colors on my arm... >.< I should really stop doing that... Oh well! It's preeeety ;)

Good News and Bad News

Here we have the typical conundrum: which one first? So, I had Mom choose left or right. Right was good and left was bad. She chose left. Bad news it is!



Luckily, the bad news is short, but it's pretty dang bad news. David (my brother) has been having panic attacks. )): He hasn't had a lot, but he's had a couple. I really don't want him to have panic troubles. D: I love him too much for him to have panic troubles! I want to wave my magic wand and make it all go away. *waves wand* We'll see how this works. =/



Also bad news, my mom has been really stressed out and anxious lately. It's gotten bad enough that she almost doesn't let me drive... Almost. She freaks out at the littlest things. It's okay, though. Usually it's stuff I need to hear. She just says it kinda... Icky-like. =P



GOOD NEWS! Okay, enough depressing stuff.



I have been rather un-anxious for the past couple of days. Ever since I cut off my hair, I've been feeling pretty dang good! I haven't had to be in social groups larger than one or two people, but still! It's quite an achievement. While my family is flippin' out and goin' berserk, I'm staying cool, calm, and collected. Actually, I've been in a really good mood lately. I smile often and laugh at everything. I've been singing, too.



Er. I had more good news. Wait for it....



....



....



....



....



I forgot. Heh. Oops.



Now for "Other News". You know, the stuff that's neither good nor bad. It's just stuff.



I'm going to a psychiatrist ...sometime. The appointment hasn't been made yet and it'll be a while, but from what I've heard about this dude, he's pretty good. In fact, my doctor (who is faaaabulous!) said that she loved him. So sweet! The point of going to a psychiatrist is to get my meds straightened out. Family practitioners are okay for treating some mental disorders, but a panic disorder that is as complicated as mine is difficult. If I just had generalized anxiety disorder, I could be more easily treated. However, my panic disorder manifests in many different ways; I've had bipolar symptoms, OCD symptoms, schizopherenic symptoms, etc. Having as many different types of panic attack as I do, and having such a weird type of anxiety, we all (all being my mom, me, and my doctor) think that a specialist would benefit me greatly. ((:



I'm thinkin' that's all my news. Oh, more bad news. I still haven't beaten Metroid Prime. -.-" Damn game. >:( :P

One of the Worst

I've a story for you. The ending sucks. So does the middle. Well, and the beginning for that matter. Consider yourself warned - this post is not going to be cheerful.

This is a story of Yesterday. Yesterday started off bad. I swear, I took my medicine at a decent time and I slept for a long time, and I tried really really really hard to stay awake, I promise. It was 8:00 AM and I was signed up to drive from 8-10. I wasn't the one driving, of course. If I was driving, I would've stayed awake. I was in the back seat. The driver wasn't talking neither was the instructor. We went to Monmouth on the interstate and turned around and came back into Galesburg on two-lane highways and gravel roads. I made it as far as the interstate and I was out.

I felt horrible, I really did! And the guy made it worse by being a prick to me. )): I mean, yeah, I slept while the other guy was driving and yeah, I shouldn't have slept, but unless I had a rubber band on my wrist and snapped myself every time I started to drift off, there was no way in hell I would've stayed awake. Ugh.

I didn't get to drive. Bleh. After that, I had my drivers' ed final. I don't think I did horribly on it, but I doubt I got an A. Oh well. See, that part wasn't so bad. The bad stuff came later.

I was anxious all day because of the way it started. The middle of the day was okay. I ran some errands with mom and such. Mom was tense and edgy because she had to give the divorce settlement money to Dad. That didn't help my anxiousness at all. In the midst of all the errand running, we invited Kristen and Uncle Dave and Aunt Mary Ann out for dinner. No big deal. Actually, that sounded quite nice.

Soon after we got home, I went upstairs to play Metroid Prime (which I still haven't beaten -.-" I'm like 64% done.) Half an hour or so later I went downstairs to go to the bathroom and mom said that not only was Uncle Dave & Co. coming, but so was Aunt Donna and her twin boys and Grandpa Charlie. What da butts?! I was like, ....Ooookayyy...

I got very anxious soon after (dunno why... probably just built up). Kristen came upstairs after she got there and I refused to go downstairs because I couldn't be around people. More people came, and mom was like, "Why don't you come downstairs and see all of us?" and I said, "Because I'm really uber anxious and I'd have a panic attack." She then asked, "Have you taken your Adavan?" and I said, "No, I'm trying my coping methods before taking more medicine," to which she said, "Okay, love you!". I was, at the time, playing guitar, which was helping.  As soon as I stopped playing, of course, the anxiety came back full force.

I went downstairs after a while to see if I could stand being around people. I couldn't, so after about five minutes I went upstairs and had a panic attack. It wasn't bad, just some thrashing around on the bed. Mom came upstairs and helped me calm down. I was okay-ish after that, but hungry.

A little while later, Mom came up and said that everyone had gone outside if I wanted to go downstairs and eat. I thought that was a good idea so I waited for a couple of minutes and went downstairs. I looked out the window and saw everyone sitting around and I got so frustrated that I couldn't even be with my family without freaking out, that I went upstairs without eating anything. Once upstairs, I turned on some music to help me calm down. I tried to meditate, but that didn't work so well. I ended up having an OCD panic attack.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is a variation of anxiety. I sometimes have OCD panic attacks, or other variations of anxiety that aren't coming to mind at the moment. When I have an OCD panic attack, I feel like I have to do something, or I'm going to get hurt. Last night, I had to cut off all my hair or else I'd get hurt and I couldn't ask for help because I'd get hurt even worse. I was screaming and crying and fighting myself. Eventually, I had scissors in hand and started cutting. The first to go were my bangs. I screamed while I cut them off. Then I screamed and cried and tried not to cut off more but off it went. After about five fistfulls of hair, Mom showed up.

She took the scissors from me and I gladly handed them over. It took forever for me to calm down. When I had calmed down a little bit, I had mom fix my hair. She did the best she could, but I have three "lucky bald spots" and I look like a dude. )):

I ended up spending the night at Kristen's because mom worked today and I didn't want to be alone. Kristen is safe, so I stayed with her. ((: As soon as we got to her house, though, I was outt.Which was fine by me. I didn't want to be awake any longer.

So there is the story of my hair being cut off... again. Maybe next post I'll relive my first and second OCD panic attacks.

Expansion!

Expansion. What a concept! I'm honest to god thinking about going to WQAD and being like, "So, dudes. I've got this story, and I think it's cool. Wanna run it?" I'm emailing the general thingy tonight, so I'm expecting a reply by the middle of next month. (lol) I wanna know what you guys think. Should I go for it? Do I need to develop the blog more? I'm really needing your help figuring this stuff out. This blogging thing, as cathartic as it is for me, isn't for me. It's for you, the people who routinely come here and read this shtuff. So, let me know what you think, please. I'm begging for comments, suggestions, ideas, opinions, and everything inbetween so that my blog can reach as many people as possible. If you have my number, feel free to text me, send me an e-mail, FaceBook me, whatever. I'm going to update my profile to have some more contact info so you can get ahold of me easier. I know the comment things don't always work.

I was watching the news tonight and it really hit me: this news station is devoted to this area. They cover Galesburg news on a regular basis. The thrilling idea of me being on TV aside, I really like the idea of Spreading the Word. That is what the blog is called, after all. I want to get the news to people everywhere.

Now, for the spilling-my-guts part of today's post.

I'm kinda worried. Boyfriend and his best friends aren't getting along, and one of his best friends is my brother. Family trumps boyfriend, so I'm kinda nervous. I really don't want to break up with boyfriend because I really really like him. I'm leary of using the word love, becuase of the negative connotations it carries with it. Hm. So, I'll say this: I love him. I'm not certain that I'm IN love with him, but I love him. There's a difference. Anyway, brother and boyfriend aren't on the best of terms and I don't want to get rid of either of them. But! Brother trumps boyfriend. Gah. )): I think they're going to tryyy to fix it. I dunno. I hope so.

I'm going to write "Song about Grandma". I've got this idea as she lays in the hospital, and I need to write it out. It'll be here before too long, promise. Hell, I may sing it at her funeral. *sniff sniff*

Guys. I gotta go. My brain isn't functioning well. It's late, I'm tired and.. I don't know. Goodnight. =P

Hospitalizations... Too Many of Them D:

Some updates before I start in on the topic of "Hospitalization":

1. Friday - Horrible. Panic attack, freak out, heard voices, etc. I would've scratched holes in my hands if I had been alone. Don't wanna think about it or go there. Sorry, that's just too much.

2. Saturday - Saw my great-grandma who is starting to go nuts. My great-aunt or something has Parkinson's and she's... *sigh* Not well.

3. Sunday - Pure, unadulterated boredom. Gahhh.

4. I am FINALLY getting ready to beat Metroid Prime on GameCube if Trevor would ever get his butt home and send me the help I so dearly need. However, since I'm on the internet, maybe I should just look up a walkthrough...? Nah. I'll let Trevor do that. I'll play guitar instead.

5. I've been playing guitar a LOT. :D It's fun.

6. I'm not going to be in band next year, so Mom says I can get lessons in an instrument of my choice... One that we already have. I have plenty of options though... Piano, guitar and flute being the most obvious choices. However, I do believe that I'm going to ask for voice lessons as soon as we get settled in. Or maybe voice and guitar alternating weeks. That would be cool. :D

7. I have been taking my meds, so another breakdown shouldn't happen anytime soon.

Err. I think that's it for right now.

On to hospitalization!

My mom is an ICCU nurse, so I'm comfortable in a hospital setting, because when I would have a bad panic attack, they'd take me up to Mom and I'd sit in the waiting room or the office until she got off work.

However, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's go back to last October.

It was U of I weekend. Anyone in Marching Band at Galesburg knows that U of I weekend is BIG. It's the largest and by far the most important band competition we go to. I was, currently, suicidal and majorly anxious. I was having three or four panic attacks a day. At least. Well, I got really suicidal. I was like, going to do something, except like, ending my life is totally permanent and I didn't really want to be gone forever, I just wanted the pain to stop. However, making that distinction at that point in time was really not happening. I saw "End of Pain = Death". Not exactly the correct equation, but hey. I asked for help. That's more than some people do.

At any rate, I knew that "End of Pain = Death, Medicine" (That was a math reference. Kudos to whoever got it.) In layman's terms, End of Pain was accomplished by death (the easier method) or medicine. I decided that I would rather take meds than die, if only because if I was dead, then I wouldn't have my music. Like, I know there's music and stuff in heaven, but iPods? What about Linkin Park? I don't think so. Maybe! That would be uber cool. Linkin Park is da shizzzzz. lol (Had to throw that in there for randomness sake. =P )

So, getting back on topic, I went to a hospital. Not only that, but Jason broke up with me on the same weekend. Bad timing, dude. Anyway, Monday, October 19, 2009 I was admitted to Lincoln Prairie Behavioral Health Center. The only reason I know the date is because it was David's birthday and I felt horrid that I was being admitted to the hospital down in Springfield on his birthday. ): I was there for a full five days, and that was long enough for me. Those people didn't have the same problems I did. They were drug addicts who had sex and kids and smoked cigs on a regular basis and lied to their parents and got in fights at school. I was a sheltered, suicidal kid who wanted to get away from home. Home was better than that hellhole. Gahh.

Everyone there had a corn cob shoved up their ass, I swear to God. Like, no one freakin' relaxed! And one chick especially was like, really fat and bitchy. Gawd. I'm not one to be rude like that usually, I promise, but it was obscene almost. Blech. We weren't allowed to breathe without getting special clearance and when we went to the bathroom, the doors had to be unlocked for us. And then there were "time out" rooms. Two of them. And ya know what? None of the staff had ever heard about panic attacks. -.-" They totally didn't understand how imperative it is for me to have MUSIC when I'm PANICKING. Erg.

And then the therapist... Gr. She wasn't nice. She misinterpreted and thought I was giving textbook answers. No, thank you very much, I just have a vocabulary unlike the rest of the people who come through here. I care about getting better and I'm telling you just like it is. No, you don't have to read between the lines because I'M TELLING YOU THE TRUTH. Grr. We didn't have a very good family session.

Oh, and I couldn't do any of my homework. -.-" They had it all locked up in a cabinet they couldn't get to so I was like, weeks behind on my homework. That's when I just dropped all my classes and went to home study.

Anyway, I was realeased after five days (which was relatively short, compared to some of the girls. They'd been there for weeks). When I got home, I had a bit of an OCD problem. I chopped off all my hair, was acting very strange and ended up in the ICCU with Mom. Oh, and for those of you who are scratching your head going, "What's that extra 'C' doing in there?", it stands for Intensive Cardiac Care Unit. =P

So, I was in the room waiting for mom to get off work. I was stuttering, I had to walk a certain way and I had to take a certain type of number of steps. If I didn't take a certain type of number of steps, I had to walk around the elevators or around in circles or something until the amount of steps was the correct type of number.

I ended up in the ER, where they did nothing. They made me pee in a cup (which I didn't know only had to be a quarter of the way full. If they wanted to, they could've retested me like, twelve times. Oh well. The more the merrier.) ( o_o")

Then, they got Bridgeway to talk to me without Mom in the room. By that time, it was fairly late at night and I was done with the panic attack thingy. Bridgeway is like, 92.8743% useless. Therefore, our meeting was uselsess and I got to go home. Home. Not somewhere I wanted to be.

That was the last time I was in the hospital for something. Then, Grandma Catharine (the Grandma that I'm closest to by a long shot) wound up in the hospital. Blerg. Not good. She had a stroke and she's pretty much unresponsive. Sometimes I can see a little spark of recognition and she responds by gripping my fingers or something, but she hasn't talked and she can't move the right side of her body. It's really quite sad. )): She's probably going to die soon, and for all the pain she's in lately, I hope she does. She knows where she's going and its a happier place than is here. Selfishly, I want her here. I want my Gramma. However, I love her and if I love her, then I'll want what's best for her. And if what's best for her is to move on, then I'll be glad to see her go. I'll miss her like hell when she's gone, you can be sure of that.

Grandma is an amazing person; I've never met anyone who is so peaceful and who has the compassion or the ability to love so completely. Grandma is a sweet, sweet person who has had a hard life. She deserves the best and I hope she gets it soon. There is so much to say about Grandma, but no words are even close to just how majestic of a person she is. When she giggles in her special Grandma way, it makes my heart feel warm and full, even if I've been having a bad day. We've never been close enough that we were like friends, but I absorbed her knowledge and wisdom and we shared jokes and soda. And Grandma gives special Grandma kisses that I'll miss. I think today is the first time I've seen her sans lipstick that I can remember, except when she broke her hip and had surgery and we went and visited her in the hospital. Grandma Mary Catharine Baker-Brown, I love you. You will be missed dearly when you go. <3

I think I'll leave you with these tidbits: What do you believe? Why? Now, think of the most precious person you know. If they believed the exact opposite of you, would they go to heaven? I believe there are many paths to God or whatever you want to call Him, him, her, them, she, whatever, and only you can find the one you're supposed to travel on. Grandma has found her path. Have you?

Hospitals are great for certain things, but for me at least, when it comes to depression and needing help, family is better than any hospital could be. If you're feeling horrid, get help. Somebody, and usually more than one person, loves you enough to bend over backwards for you so that you can feel better. Trust me, it's worth it. I can't begin to imagine how drastically different my life would be without Mom, Kristen, Panda, David, Mommeh, and Becky. Every one of those people have helped me to learn life lessons that are extremely important. I love every single one of those people.
To sum up my random rantings above ^.^, Get help if you need it, from the hospital to your family. Just ask someone for help.

Today, A Rant

I have a rant today. There is something that really bothers me that I can't wait to write out and share my feelings about.

However, I have some announcements first. Business, then pleasure, right? Yep.

First off, thank you for reading. I really appreciate the time it takes to read and process what I have to say.

Second, I'm going to be doing a lot of adding and experimenting with my blog page. I'm going to do some research and add a fact page, maybe a message board or chat room. I don't know, though. You're the ones who will(would) be using it... Would you use a message board?

Anyway, point being, I'm going to add some cool stuff that you oughta check out when I get it posted.

Finally, I don't know if the comment thing is amended yet but I'll get there asap.

Now, onto the fun stuff.

Today I was in Drivers' Ed. My teacher showed us a very disturbing video. In fact, I found it on YouTube. The video is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQo64mlNExU

For those of you who may not be able to get this video, I'll describe it for you. You see a car coming toward the camera and it has a red light. As the car reaches the intersection, a motorbike comes flying in. The scooter thing gets blown to bits, the guy goes sprawling up in the air, twisting in various painful-looking ways, spinning, landing on the roof and sliding down to the hood of the car before falling to the ground and landing on his back. It is encouraging to see him move his arms toward the end of the video, but the real stuff happens in the first ten seconds.

I want to know your first reaction when seeing this video. Did you cry? Laugh? Stare in shock and watch it again? Pass it off as one of those things that just happens and exit out of the YouTube tab?

The first reaction of my classmates was to laugh. People were making comments about it and others were chortling, and some were even laughing just at the craziness of the situation.

I had a panic attack.

That guy had to have been in so much pain, and the dumbass who hit him was on his cell phone. Granted, he may have been calling the authorities to get some help for the poor guy on the scooter, but he ran a red light, for goodness sake! The guy on the scooter had to be in so much pain. I could see him move a little later, but he really could have died.

Maybe I'm overreacting here, but laughter is so innapropriate. And before you stick up for the kids and say "Well, maybe it was one of those situations where you don't know how to react so you laugh,", that wasn't it. They were cracking jokes and laughing, like, full out. That disgusts me.

I was thinking about how much that man must've hurt, and they were laughing at the way his body was contorted as he flew. That infuriates me and sickens me to no end. Mirth is not the correct emotion to be feeling when another human being is suffering, no matter who they are!

So I had a panic attack. It wasn't horrible, but I learned that Adavan doesn't work for me at all. )):

This panic attack wasn't really "panicky". I had adrenaline pumping through me, so I couldn't stop shaking. I was freaking out about the poor guy, but I didn't feel scared. Sometimes, that happens. I was nervous and jittery, but not scared. Eventually, the shaking got to the point where it was going to start in my midsection. When I start shaking in my midsection, things get crazy.

Last panic attack I had before this, I shook in my midsection. My body didn't like it, so instead of shaking, I would involuntarily arch my back, twist this way and that, clench my stomach and back muscles so hard it hurt, and basically flail around like a fish out of water. An amusing analogy, but if you picture it, it's quite disturbing.

This one wasn't near so bad. I concentrated on my breathing, which is key. A little later (I'd give a time reference, but when I'm having a panic attack, time is somewhat irrelevant), Mitch came out and sat down next to me. I was still shaking at this point and he gave me his mp3 player to listened to, which helped. I breathed along with the phrases of Linkin Park's Minutes to Midnight CD. Linkin Park is my panic attack band. If I need to calm myself, I listen to them. It's a habit I've cultivated for probably three or four years.

I calmed myself and went back inside. I was able to work the rest of the time on our worksheets.

This really bugged me and I honestly wanted to cry... Really hard. (Instead I had a panic attack... Oh, the life of an anxiety-ridden teenager -.-")

I hope with all my heart and soul that if you're reading this, you're mature enough to see that someone's pain is not pleasureable. Put yourself in their situation. How does it feel good to make someone else suffer? I will never understand.

Driving, Cobbler, Computers and Karaoke

Just a little note before I get started: I cannot comment for some reason. If you leave me a comment, I will get back to you some way or another, even if I have to resort to answering you via post (which I really hope doesn't happen).

I've been driving... a lot. I enjoy the task immensely, although I have much room to improve.

Also, Mom made blackberry cobbler that is orgasmic and when paired with ice cream, it's simply sinful.

Speaking of Mom, she wants on the computer. When I have something more interesting to say, I'll post again.

Oh, I've become addicted to YouTube karaoke. Don't ask me why, I just love singing to the stuff. Teehee.

Just A Little Update

I enjoy writing on the blog because it's so cathartic. I also like feedback *cough*hint*cough*. When the people who read give me their opinions or questions, I can explain what they don't understand and what they're curious about.

Anyway, I've been in a bad mood like, all day. Actually, for the past couple of days. I'm on the verge of being depressed, yet I'm not quite there. I've been very touchy about what people say and I find that I've been walking with a chip on my shoulder. One of the most horrible and loathsome behaviours I've been indulging in is a behaviour that I've cultivated since I can remember.

I do a lot of harm to myself in my head, and this is probably the worst way I harm myself. I set people up to fail. The behaviour starts with a feeling that is difficult to discribe, at best. The feeling is close to self-hatred. When I do hate myself, I want myself to die, go away, just don't exist. I do realize that it is permanent and when I leave, I can't come back. However, that is okay with me when I hate myself. All I want is darkness, solitude, and for the nagging little thoughts in the back of my head to go away.

I digress. The feeling this usually starts off with is smaller than self-hatred. It starts with thinking I do something wrong or being told I'm wrong or have misbehaved and it snowballs from there. Because I did or said something wrong, I am imperfect. Not only am I imperfect, but I'm about as far from perfect as anyone can get without committing a felony.

This is when things get tricky. See, now is when I start pulling back. I feel myself withdraw. I hardly smile unless I'm forced to, I either eat anything unhealthy (like right now I'm drinking a Dr. Pepper and eating Lay's Sour Cream and Onion potato chips) or eat nothing (like I was doing earlier today). For the most part, I feel like a disgrace to my family, especially to Mom and David.

Once again, there are two actions I chose from and sometimes I chose both. I either withdraw and plead inside my head for someone, usually someone specific, to do just the right thing or I try to do good deeds to be as good of a person as I can. As I'm thinking about it, I realize that I either do the first or both, but never only the good deeds.

I'll give an example, and this happens often. There will be someone important to me (usually not an adult, but sometimes... hardly ever my mom) who notices that I'm withdrawn and sullen. They ask me if I'm okay, and I say I'm fine, or okay. Most of the time, I want them to ask again so I can say, "No, I'm not okay." I want them to ask me what's wrong and I want to be coddled. It's kind of a shot to the head when not only do they not respond correctly, they do exactly what I want them NOT to do.

Do you see the problem with that? Not only am I expecting someone to do something completely boundaryless, I'm also setting myself up for failure. This is not healthy at all and I know it. I honest to god hate myself for it sometimes. I hate that I feel like I have to lean on other people for my self-worth. I hate that I long so desparately for compliments. I hate that even though I realize I'm doing wrong, I can't or won't change it. Scratch that. I can change how I feel. Why don't I? Because I can be an idiot sometimes, and this particular thing is hard to give up. I've tried, but not very hard.

Odd as it is, this thought process is comforting in a way. I set myself up for failure and the familiar sensation of acute pain because someone didn't tell me I looked beautiful when I was having a bad hair day or because nobody noticed when I worked hard on my hair, make up, and clothes, and worst of all, when I worked on something big and achieved a large goal and the only person to recognize it is my mom is comforting because I expect the pain. I am used to the emotional stab and, in a sick way, I kind of like it.

So this is why I've been in a rotten mood.

As I reread the last full paragraph, I realized that my behaviour isn't much different from the people who cut or burn or bite or any cause any other sort of injury to themselves. I suppose you could say I had an epiphany. Like I've said a lot lately, though. Physical abuse is, in my opinion, not nearly as horrible as emotional abuse because when you're physically abused, at least you can see the scars. With mental abuse, you're left with all these problems and nobody to see them except you and the few people who care enough to look deeply into your personality.

I know a lot of people are battling depression, and yet I feel so isolated. Frankly, I'm surprised at how many people have come up to me and said, "Hey, I read your blog. This helps because (I/someone I'm close to) (am/is) dealing with the same stuff. Awesome. Totally cool. Depression is so isolating, though, and even though I know a couple of people who understand, I still feel alone.

It sucks.

Next time I post, I'll probably write about driving and band because both are making me extremely nervous. *sigh* Oh well.

Btw, tell your friends, coworkers, family members, etc. about my blog, please. The idea of it is to "Spread the Word", like the title says. ((: Thanks!

I See Music

Please, hold all sarcastic remarks until I finish explaining.

I see music. Of course, I see sheet music, but I "see" more than that. When I look at someone... No, scratch that. When I get to know someone, I see their song. Granted, their song is only my perseption of them, but I like to think that I can perceive people fairly well. For the people I know really well (and so far it's only Mom and Kristen... Maybe Panda and Chris), I see their True Song. To me, seeing someone's true song is very private, intimate, and precious.

You're probably thinking, "Okay, but seeing music? You hear music!" This is not the case, actually. My definition of seeing is more along the lines of divining or understanding. You see, when I see music, I see a pattern. I see certain sounds, certain rythms. I don't hear the melody of the music until I look really hard, and then I may find something.

Personal songs are private, and something that I don't feel I have the right to share with other people. I say this because I want to give you an example. This is nobody's song that I know of, but I want you to understand how I work this.

When I know somebody well, I take their personality and translate it into music. Someone can have a rough, angry melody with pretty, tinkling bells underneath. Sometimes, the music evolves, showing growth or change of interests. Your song can change from jazz to punk to classical to jazz again, because it's you. There are no rules for your song, there are no boundaries for what it can be.

Just like people have songs, animals, feelings, situations, and places have songs, too. Everything has a song; it's up to people like me to write it down. Feelings and situations, depending on what they are, aren't as private as animals, places, and people. It's very complicated, and it sounds made-up. I assure you, though, it's real.

I will never know my song, unless somebody else writes it. The reason why is twofold. First, I don't want to know that much about myself - the thought scares me. Self-awareness is good, admittedly, but I really don't want to face all of that information. I'm scared of what I'd find. The second reason is that I'd never perceive myself correctly. Ever. Nobody sees themselves like they truely are, and that's a fact. It would be up to someone else to see me for what I am and put it on paper.

My view of the world is different from everyone else's. It makes me unique. I love my odd little gift and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I hope I explained this well enough. If you have questions, please, feel free to ask. ((:

<3

Amazinggg Dayyyy

A lot has happened in the past 24 hours. Among the highlights are my mom and dad made the divorce final, I got a new puppy, and I've driven... a LOT!

I'll go in chronological order. First, I drove to Drivers' Ed. Thaaat was fun. ;) I made a horrible, horrible right turn and swerved way into the ditch. ...I got nervous because a car was tailgaiting me and I didn't wanna get hit... Yay n00bn3ss. I endured Drivers' Ed and afterwords, Mom told me the news. :D I was uber excited.

After that, Mom and I met Uncle Bert and Josh (my cousin) for Chinese. All they had that was meatless was Vegetable Lo Mein, rice, and these little fried macaroni triangle things. Well, and desert but that's beside the point. It was good stuff though. ((:

After lunch, Mom and I went to check out some supplies at Menards. We spent an hour there and talked about going to the animal shelter and look at pets. As soon as we walked in the door, Sierra jumped up in her cage and said, "You're mine you're mine you're mine you're mine!" However, she didn't bark. It was amazing! We looked at the other puppies and decided that Sierra was ours. Mom was reluctant, but I was in love. <3

We did some other boring and mundane stuff before we went home, but eventually we went home with Steven and Sierra. (Steven isn't a dog... He's a stray human we found on the side of Henderson street who needed a place to crash [; )

After we were home for a while, Uncle Bert asked if I wanted to be his chauffeur. No duh! I drove from North Henderson to the spillway at Lake Story to Walmart (including some interstate and main roadway time) to the spillway to home. It was eventful and fun. :D

I'm sleepy, though. I'll post more tomorrow because I've got some more shtuff to say. G'night. ((:

One of My Worst Days...

So yesterday was one of my worst days evarrrrr. It started off nicely but soon went downhill.

Drivers' Ed was good. I sit next to this chick named Aurora (I freakin' love that name) and she's cool. During the class, I did a wonderful thing. I'm an outgoing person and I like to meet new people. The chick who sits next to me and the guys around us were working on our worksheets together and I was randomly throwing my two-sense in, giving and asking for answers. Nobody was talking to me and they didn't respond when I talked, so I thought to myself: They have their group of friends and they don't know me. I'm outgoing and insert myself into social situations. I'm going to sit here and do my homework because I'm not part of their group of friends. It's not that they don't like me, they just don't know me.

You may think this is kind of like, "Duh?" but for me, this is a big thing. I used to think: I'm not in their group, so they must not like me. They didn't try to include me so I must be ugly and a bad person.

You may think that way of thinking is stupid, but it's honestly how I thought about things. No wonder I had panic attacks, right? Well, anyway, that was a major success. ((:

I went to Panda's house and was hanging out. I'd been a little anxious all day, but not horribly. However, I had a humongo-jumbo panic attack. It lasted a full three and a half hours.

I started having a panic attack around three thirty and it lasted until like, seven thirty. It was freakin' horrible. I couldn't control my body. I was almost convulsing and it hurt like hell. Long story short, I was exhausted when I got home. I was having it rough.

When I woke up this morning, I was all better, even if I was a little tired.

Now, I have some Adavan (sp?) and when I have a bad panic attack that I can't control, I can take an Adavan! :D

But I'm like, multi-tasking on an epick

Late Night Ramblings

Rejected, dejected, she writes her pain in the form of a score. Seven instruments, three voices, and eighty-six sheets of paper later, she still feels like shit.

Not gonna lie, stuff like this pops into my head at random times. Yes, I see a story forming from those two sentences. Yes, it could be big. No, it will never be written. I don't have the time or effort to write stories about all the little blurbs I think up.

I was writing a story not long ago. As I'm writing this post, I'm searching to see if I still have it saved somewhere. In many ways, this story was my own. A girl had panic attacks, became home schooled, and found refuge in a guy on the internet. Just to make things clear, I never found refuge in a guy on the internet... Just so ya know. ;) But anyway, the story was gonna be good, but I stopped. The reason why for this story is simple: I started dating Mitch and had a hard time putting myself in the mood I needed to be in to write. Sure, it sounds silly, but it's true. I can't write something unless I have the feeling behind it.

Another project I've somewhat postponed is a musical detailing the effects of depression and anxiety. The reason I've stopped this one? Dunno. Probably just laziness. Will it get finished? Eventually. I just dunno when.

It's funny how attuned to adrenaline I've become. I can feel the slightest amount weaving in and out of the muscles of my arms and legs and even the slightest amount of adrenaline can put my stomach in knots. I don't know what I was thinking to have that tiny bit of adrenaline pump into my limbs. The adrenaline is enough to make my hands shake just the slightest bit and my mind jump from one topic to another.

The adrenaline has a very distinct feel, and after all these years of learning how it feels to have even a drop of the stuff coursing through my blood, it's no wonder I can feel it when I least expect it. It feels like a slight burning in my muscles. Right now, the burning is so trivial that it's hardly there. The burning doesn't really hurt, per say. You know in the beginning of summer when the sun has just begun to heat up the blacktop and you're walking on it barefoot? You know the feeling of the blacktop on your feet, where it's hot enough to keep moving, but not hot enough to really burn? That's how my muscles feel right now.

Now, I've already made this connection a while ago, but for those of you who haven't, I'll show you the link now. The sensation I described above is the reason that I sometimes shake when I have panic attacks. When I shake, there's enough adrenaline in my system to disrupt something, and I have to get the extra energy out somehow. So I shake. Sometimes taking a walk or riding my bike helps, but sometimes my muscles do funny things and I can't stand up, let alone do any sort of activity.

I'm drifting off to sleep because it's almost 1 am. I want to go to church in the morning, but I'm thinking it'll be tomorrow evening when I get there. Oh well. I need to sleep anyway, and it's not like I believe in the same God they're talking about. xD Yay paganism.

Anywhoozle, good night. ((:

Btw - I hope Germany or Spain wins the World Cup. xD

I dun' feel good.

Today has been quite the day. ...And not in the good way.

Well, this morning/afternoon was OK. Then I started to feel hungry. When I got home, I was really really hungry, so I ate ice cream to tide me over until dinner. Bad idea. I started feeling queasy, which soon turned to anxiety. Or maybe I was anxious and that turned to a queasy tummy. Either way, I've had a couple of panic attacks, I keep shaking off and on, and there's no way in hell I'm sleeping alone tonight.

Right now, my tummy is anxiety and pukey. Which makes me more anxious, because I don't like to feel nauseous.

Pretty much every anxious person has that thing that if they do that thing or have it happen to them, they have panic attacks. For me, that's getting sick. Like, flu sick. Everytime I get the flu, I have at least one panic attack.

I feel like crap, so I'mma go try to not feel like crap. Bye.

Dear Readers: Please Take Note

Today was pretty good! I rode in the semi with Uncle Bert, had lunch at B&B in Alexis, and chillaxed the rest of the day. I got to drive, twice! It was greaaaaaat!

I've been trying to decide on what today's rant should be, and I've decided on one that bugs me often. People with mental disorders are PEOPLE!

I've noticed, and so have other people I know, that when you say something like, "I have a panic disorder," or "I've got depression," or "I'm bipolar," people start treating you funny. Or if you have a panic attack in someone's class (and notice, I'm targeting teachers in general). We are still people, goddamnit! Our brain chemicals are messed up, that's all. If someone had a broken leg, you wouldn't shun them like the plague, would you? Hell no!

If you know someone who has a mental disorder, or meet someone with a mental disorder, don't feel like you have to censor yourself or be really cautious around us. Our problems are in our heads. I mean, obviously don't criticize us a bunch, but don't be fake with us either.

Teachers: Be understanding, but don't make big exceptions for us.

People with mental disorders need stability and reliability, and we also need understanding. I probably will have other stuff to add later, but this is a good start.

The Best Medicine

People say "Laughter is the best medicine." Normally, I'd have to agree. Laughing has, for me, been healing. I'm going to have to say that laughter, in fact, is not the best medicine.

My uncle is. When I'm feeling really anxious, Uncle Bert (or Bob as most people call him) is the best. Like, I don't know. I feel really really really safe around him, and when I'm anxious, safety is a big thing.

I'm not going to expound much further, and therefore leave you with a very small post. I will say that Uncle Bert is amazing and I love him a lot. He is waaay better for me than clinazipam ever is. ((: If only he was able to be injested, pill style...

I Can't Sleep

I didn't take my meds tonight. I was talking on the phone with Mitch. Our conversation was kind of odd. It got me thinking about myself.

Then, I had a panic attack. )): First one in a really long time, too. *sigh* I was thinking some... not so nice things about myself. Plus, with moving to Uncle Bert's and the loss of a routine, I've been feeling anxious and stuff anyway.

So, I'm here to tell you some stuff about anxious people because I can't sleep.

Anxiety and depression often go hand in hand. In fact, if you have any sort of mental disorder, you probably also have depression. It's like geometry: A square is always a quadrilateral but a quadrilateral isn't always a square.

Symptoms of anxiety and depression vary. For me, when I get depressed, I get really quiet and withdrawn. My grades never showed my depression. I immersed myself in my school and books for the longest time. I treasured my privacy because I could have panic attacks and nobody would notice. I could plan out my death and think about how nobody would mourn me.

For anxiety? Good luck figuring out the symptoms without having full blown panic attacks and rushing to the ER going "WHY AM I SO SCARED?!" ...But I digress.

The symptoms of anxiety are rather subtle. Perfectionism, worrying, etc. WebMD it if you want more. The main symptoms of my anxiety are panic attacks and, of course, feelings of intense anxiety.

Let me delve deeper. When I feel a panic attack coming on, my heart rate speeds up, I get really warm sometimes, my pulse gets really heavy and hard, my breathing becomes erratic, and worst of all, I'm scared for no reason whatsoever. Some people feel a tightness in the chest that can hurt pretty bad.

It's story time. Once, I was in band. I had like, two or three mini panic attacks earlier in the day and I was still feeling anxious. That happened a lot; I'd have several mini panic attacks but still feel anxious. The solution? A ginormous panic attack. I'm going to attempt to tell you how I felt, but no words can come close to the true feeling.

I remember all of this vividly. We were cleaning something I hadn't learned yet. I was confused, and Mr. B (the head director) was yelling at us. I felt bad because I thought it was my fault. He was yelling at us because we weren't putting enough effort out. It was hot and sticky. We were tired; it was the end of the week. We weren't putting enough effort into it. I was, of course, so exhausted I could hardly stand. As he was yelling at us (and I mean yelling), I started to feel my heart race. My pulse was pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears. I got dizzy. Anxiety pooled in my stomach. It was a metallic, tight feeling that balled in the pit of my stomach. I tried to ignore the symptoms. My breathing became erratic and I couldn't step on beat. That's when I decided to go sit on the sidelines.

As soon as I sat down, I was scared. I was so terrified. There is no word that can describe just how afraid I was. Picture this: Someone had just came into your house at night and killed your family before you and was gonna pull a Hannibal Lector and eat them right in front of you and then eat you alive, piece by piece. Just imagine that for a minute. Feel scared? Multiply that by 100 and you get close to how I felt.

I was sitting there, so scared. I was sobbing. I had a hard time breathing. I was so scared. I forgot all about the band in front of me. I forgot all about Mr. B and Ms. Shadensack behind me, or the drum majors to either side of me. All I could think about was how scared I was.

Katie, a senior clarinetist, came up to me and tried helping me. She got me some paper towels and the Color Guard instructor's daughter (she was like, four?) came to try and cheer me up but I was past the point of no return. It took forever it felt like, but I finally got to the peak of the panic attack and started deescalating. I'm fairly certain I was screaming by then. Eventually, I was able to be done with the panic attack. I was exhausted.

I didn't know limits back then. I still tried to be an active participant in my after-band guard practice. I know now that I should've just gone home early. I felt like I wasn't trying hard enough, though. I interpreted Mr. B's and Julie (the guard instructor)'s looks and reactions as disappointed or standoffish or something.

The goal of my story was to try to illustrate the horrendousness of panic attacks. Admittedly, panic attacks aren't always that violent. However, if you've ever had one, you never want another.

I think this has been a long enough post. I hope you got a feel for what panic attacks are like. I also hope that you never have one.

So long, farewell, to you my friends. Goodbye, for now, until we meet again. It's been great to discuss these things together (here on my blog) but now it's time to say goodbye. So long, farewell, to you my friends. Goodbye, for now, until we meet again.

Last Day of School

First off, HELL YEAHHHHHHH!

Second, I promised to give you info on how it feels to be depressed and anxious.... Not happenin' today, sorry.

I've been having anxiety problems but I don' feel like talking about it.

So yesterday I spent the day with Trevor. It was fantastic. We were on the internet, talking, and looking through his pix. :D It was great. ((:

Also, last night I went to church. (O_O) You see, I'm pagan. No, I don't worship the devil. However, I do believe in things different from the church I'm now going to be attending. (Their website is www.hbcgalesburg.org

On a totally different note, I'm reading Hannibal. D: Is creeeepy. But awesome :P I <3 Hannibal the cannibal. He's just uber cool.

So, I'm running out of interesting things to say so I'm gunna log off now. TTYL

So long, farewell, to you my friends. Goodbye for now, until we meet again. It's been great to discus these things together (here on my blog), but now it's time to say goodbye. So long, farewell, to you my friends. Goodbye for now, until we meet again.

I'm supposed to be writing a paper... Oh well :D

Holaaaa!

I'm hyper. My nighttime meds make me sleepy, and without them I have a hard time sleeping. Last night, I forgot my meds. >.> Oops. xD Oh well. So I didn't get much sleep and I'm hyper.

Anywhoozle, very eventful past couple of days.

First, we moved. We moved from a good sized town to a rinky dink town twenty minutes away. The reasons are these: Our land lord was being mean and wanted to make us sign a year lease. We don't want to sign any leases, so we moved in with my Uncle. Granted, we have more space, and that is very nice. I want my own place. I miss having a place of our own that we can remodel and paint and make it our own that we'll be there for a long time.

That was slightly traumatic, plus I was on my period. Not. Fun.

Event number two: I tried to break up with Mitch. Note "tried". I was uber anxious ALL DAY. And then after school, I did it. Around six or seven o'clock, he called me. "Do you have a minute?" "Sure..." "Why?" ...Shit.

We talked and I have this problem... When people give me like, good reasons why to do stuff or not to do stuff, I can be persuaded. I like to think of myself as open-minded. I'm not, however, afraid to make my own opinions. All I'm saying is that I can change my mind. And I did.

Go figure tough guy boyfriend isn't really all that tough. Big surprise. I knew he was a softie, but having him admit it was quite nice. ((:

So, we're together. Honestly, I don't know how long it'll last, but I'm sooo willing to try. <3

I haven't talked to Dad recently, but I totally miss him. ): I want a Daddy hug. He'd probably say "Well then, come get one!" but the problem with that is: the hug would have strings attached. )): Eventually, I'll be able to deal with the strings, but I don't think I am right now. Until then, I'll miss him from afar.

I have been making progress, mental health wise. I am (finally) able to separate my emotions from other people. I no longer feel the need to feel what everyone else is feeling, just because they're feeling it. I'm not dragged down by their bad moods, or feel falsely happy when I really feel like shit. Also, I'm able to think through my debilitating thoughts... you know, the ones that cause panic attacks. =P I can dissect those and figure out why I feel that way, the evidence that supports the bad feeling, and the evidence that contradicts the bad thoughts. Is loooovely. ((:

So, I'm thinking my next post will detail some of my feelings that I have when I'm depressed and anxious. Looking forward to it. I guess this is it.

The teary goodbye will have to wait, because honestly, I don't think anyone reads this. ...Maybe they will if I post it on Facebook? :D

So long, farewell, to you my friends. Goodbye for now, until we meet again. It's been great, discussing these things together, (here on blogspot) But now it's time to say good bye. So long, farewell, to you my friends. Goodbye for now, until we meet agaaaaaaain!

Because I'm Bored...

Agh. So, I'm bored. I have good background music, but you can only surf other peoples' blogs for so long before you get really bored.

Anywhoozle, this blog is about Anxiety, Depression, OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder), ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder), Bi-Polar Disorder and probably some stuff about Schizophrenia.

I have been diagnosed with Anxiety and Clinical Depression. Kristen's boyfriend, Chris, has OCD and Depression, Panda (Amanda) and Mitch have ADHD. Panda also has Anxiety a tinge of Depression. Kristen has had Anxiety before and everyone I've mentioned so far have been at one point in time, or are still, medicated.

Oh, before I start rattling off names like you know everyone, I'd better introduce them.

Kristen - Kristen is my best friend, and also my cousin. She is eight hours older than me but she's had her driving permit for evah now. )): (I get mine soon :D) Kristen has had anxiety in the past and her mom, Aunt Mary Ann, battles it still.

Panda - Also known as Amanda, is my best friend, also. She isn't related to me, even though her last name is my mom's maiden name. xD Panda has ADHD and Anxiety. We go to the same counselor, Becky, so I'll probably refer to her occasionally. Panda plays flute in Marching Band and Bassoon in concert band. Well, technically, she's in Wind Symphony, but whatever. ;) Panda is still trying to get her meds fixed and she's having some major family problems right now. She'll probably be mentioned quite a bit.

Chris - Chris... Oh, Chris. Chris is Kristen's boyfriend. They live right across the street from each other. Kristen's loved Chris since she was like, eight. How awesome, right?! Lol. Anyway, he has OCD that's been so bad that he's been homeschooled. Lately, he's had some more with OCD and clinical depression, and he's being treated for both.

David - He's my brother. He doesn't have any condition; he just doesn't know how to handle his emotions, so he's rather depressed atm.

Mitch - Also known to some as Mitchell. He's my boyfriend. We've been going out for like, three-ish months. He has ADHD but I don't think he has any depression issues. He's only seen like, two of my big freak outs. =/ I don't like big freak outs.

Mom - Well, duh. But some information could be given under this topic, so I'll go for it. Mom is my biological mother. She is currently divorcing my biological father. Mom has some depression issues and some problems with codependency. She's working on it though. ((:

Speaking of Dad... We aren't speaking. Don't get me wrong. I love Daddy soo much. However, I can't handle his bull anymore, and until I can, I've severed ties, for the most part. I'd love to just give him a hug, but I know there'd be strings attached... )): I have a lot of "Daddy" issues and I'll probably write about them some.

So after this introduction of the cast of important characters in my life story, you should be rather well off.

Current important events:

-Moving! This weekend, we're moving from our crappy house in town to Uncle Bert's house. Uncle Bert is mom's brother. Everyone else calls him Bob or Uncle Bob, but I don't. Anyway, we're moving this weekend because our landlord is a meanieface and he wants a year lease for this little crappy house. Mom is banking on her and Dad's divorce being done before a year is over, so she doesn't want a lease. Gah!

-Er. I'm sure there's something else... Ah....

-OH! Yeah, so Mitch and my three month anniversary is the 4th! =P Yeah, we count the months. xD It seems like a lot longer than four months, though. ((: <3

-Mom's birthday is June 15th. Thanks for reminding me, btw.

That's all for now. This is a long enough post and it's number 2 for today (O_o) so I'm going to probably go get on Webkinz. xD Ttyl!