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.