Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Yet Another Kitten Tale

I've been doing a suuuuper awesome job bingeing lately. Eating. Drinking. Watching TV. Shopping. I've been rocking it all. Some may call it manic but I call it taking advantage of the one life we have. YOLO! Here is a story that leads into another story that makes this all relevant.

Part One
When I was up in the behavioral unit aka "let's not call it a psych ward" I met quite a few people. A couple of them I became fairly close with, such as T. Not her real name because I'm not going to do her like that so we will just call her T. T has what I have plus a couple other things. Super nice, quiet, pretty young woman. We spent most of our days just hanging out, waiting to see the doctor and hoping for discharge so we had plenty of time to walk the hall and talk. One of my THE favorite conversation I was apart of while up there was the time we were talking about when we get manic, what we do. I usually get anxious, then upset, then I start cleaning. Sometimes I eat, for awhile I was working out a lot, shopping is also fun. Then it was T's turn, which turned out to be the best freaking reply I have ever heard in my life. T would get manic and buy dogs. Specifically chihuahuas. She only had two at the time but she would like acquire chihuahuas then rehome them to make sure they were going to good dog parents. I instantly knew we would be friends forever at that point. Unfortunately, I never got her last name before my discharge and we may never talk to each other again, which really bums me out. You can't exactly call and ask, "Hey. Can you tell me the name of the person I was hospitalized with?" So even though I have searched and searched Facebook, I will probably never find her. Sad :(

Part Two
On Friday I was feeling a little anxious and manic. I was off all day so it would have been a perfect time to clean but instead I decided to make a hair appointment and figure out how to pay bills and then stress out over said bills. I was completely in a panic as I came to the realization I was going to have to start soliciting aka prostituting to pay my bills, then I did more math and really started to freak out when I realized how many clients I'd have to have on average, I had to figure out a way to calm myself down. So I left town a little early to drive out to my hairdresser's, smoking 600 cigarettes on my way there. By the way, smoking totally disgusting and I definitely do not recommend it. It's the worst. Anyways I drove out to her little town, right outside of my town. Just as I pulled in she text me saying she'd be a little late, so I text her that I was a little early. Being it was 1:45pm on a Friday, I told her to text me when she got home, I was driving the next town over to go to the bar. While I was enjoying myself, I saw a post on Facebook from a friend who works at a car dealership. Apparently someone had brought their car in to be tuned or fixed or whatever and there was 3 little kittens in it! Not sure where in the car, I'm guessing the hood but I like my own version where the kittens actually stole the car, they are ninja rebel kittens, but noticed the oil change light was on and being that not all kittens are complete assholes they kindly took the car in to be serviced. I'm probably not accurate but since I have no other story, I'm sticking with that one. Regardless, they found three kittens and called the shelter to come get them. Me being manic, one Coors Light deep into day drinking and reminiscing about my good friend T and her life choices, I decided that I NEEDED one of the kittens. I have been wanting a cat for awhile but could never get one because Rob is deathly allergic.Well now that things are happening as they are, I am free to have as many cats as I please, at least until my landlord finds out and evicts me. Which, honestly, just means I can have even more cats so it's a win-win! Anyways, ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce.......C.C. (short for Cool Cat because I am very original)


Wednesday, July 13, 2016

I'm Crazy For You.....But Also Actually Crazy

I think I never put a name to my disorder when I wrote about it because honestly I think my family is worried people will think I'm crazy. Which technically I am but we like to pretend I'm not because it makes us all feel a little better at the end of the day. Well, since I threw all my divorce business out there, have talked about suppositories, bleeding orifices, etc. I might as well come out and say it. If only to discourage anyone from thinking I'm dateable and/or friendable. Tread lightly readers, shit's about to go down.

As I talked about here I have this lovely disorder that makes my life a living hell at times.  Before you judge me by it's name, give me the chance to explain it myself, which will probably make it sound a heck of a lot worse but fuck it. I have Borderline Personality Disorder. As I explain it to many people, including my 8 year old niece when she told me one night, "I'm sad. I can tell you are having a rough time..." (Which by the way broke my fucking heart...) Most people have a range of emotion like so:

{Very sad----------------------Very Happy}

MY very special emotional range is more like this:

{UNBEARABLY SAD --------------------------------------------------------EUPHORICALLY HAPPY}

Basically I feel much more emotion than a normal person. So when I feel "happy", I feel SUPER FUCKING HAPPY. And when I am sad, I feel like dying. It's hard for me to regulate my emotions. Sometimes they refer to BPD as emotional instability which is a good description. I can be feeling fine then something happens and I fall into a black hole of despair. And by something I mean like my significant other didn't hold my hand, or touch me when I walked by, or kiss me long enough. That's all it takes for my brain to decide that I'm not loved anymore or they aren't attracted to me anymore. But it's not just about that, if someone comes into my work and doesn't say hello back or uses an unfriendly tone with me, it triggers me. Then I get upset and angry, I feel like nothing and I just want to give up. Why? Because people with BPD feel worthless, we have no sense of self worth. We determine our worth by what others think of us. We need constant validation, to a point it becomes an addiction. The more I get, the more I need. Can you imagine how incredibly exhausting it is to be with someone with BPD? The fact that I was able to be apart of an 11 year relationship is note-worthy. People with BPD have very unstable relationships with others because of a constant swing from fear of abandonment to breaking up before they can because we know it will eventually happen.

Some of the features of this lovely disorder are: inability to regulate emotions, reckless behavior, distorted self-image, severe mood swings, etc. It doesn't sound that bad, a lot of people may even relate to it like "Hey I experience those things too..." but times what you feel by about 1000. Then enter the other stuff like stress induced paranoia, disassociation, suicidal thoughts and actions, self sucks butts.
I self harmed in high school. Those who knew about it thought it was an attention thing, they figured I would grow out of it, which I did, for awhile. I "relapsed" at 21, stopped, relapsed in 2015,  then started treatment for it because I didn't want to cope that way. In the last few months, I cut more frequently and more severely than ever in my life. I didn't feel like I could stop. Thankfully today I am 54 days clean from cutting and I hope to continue. Then there is the suicide shit. The first time I attempted suicide, I was about 14. It didn't work. For the last 3 years or so, I went through the steps of accepting my fate as a suicide victim. In about February 2016, I set a date and had a plan. In May 2015, I held a loaded gun to my head but I didn't do it because it wasn't time. Instead I was committed to a behavioral unit for 3 days. I lied my way through it so I could be discharged because I didn't want to be there. For the last year, I've put my family through hell, my spouse through hell, my friends through hell and as badly as I have been suffering, they have been as well. I made my plans known in an attempt to soften the blow for my family when it eventually happened. Which would have been July 5th, 2016. That day came, I woke up depressed and wanting to die but I didn't. I went to my therapist, my family kept tabs on me all day and I made it until July 6th.

I have BPD. It sucks but it is what it is. I might never be "cured" but I can be treated. It doesn't make me a bad person, it means my mind is different from others and life is harder for me in some ways. It doesn't mean I'm crazy, or maybe it does. I've had it for years, undiagnosed, so everyone who knows me, this is me. That is me. It doesn't change that person you know, it's just a part of who I am that no one knew about, I didn't even know about it. The reason I wrote this is to explain that mental illness is just a thing. Brown hair, blue eyes, BPD, depression, bipolar, 20/20 vision. It's a part of life. Maybe me sharing will help remove the stigma, maybe I'm making it worse, I dunno. I apologize if I'm not who you thought I am but I promise I'm a good person, at least I try really hard to be. And sometimes I'm funny. And I'll pay for shots of Patron when we go out. AND I give great compliments plus I mean them.

Now that that's out there...I have a WHOOLLEEE bunch to write about! Stay Tuned....

Monday, July 11, 2016

Dirty 30

Yes, last week I turned 30. Honestly, I'm surprised I made it this far, I'm a pretty reckless bitch. With 30 comes a new outlook in life, mostly that I'm not 20 anymore. Which just because I'm not in my 20's doesn't mean I'm going to suddenly start acting right. Fuck that, I'm just figuring out how to do me, I'm not about to let something like beginning a new decade change that.

So what exactly have I learned in the last 30 years of my life? What majestic, golden nuggets of knowledge can I spread to the world? It's hard to decide which ones are the most important but I'm going to try really, really, hard.

#1. I'll never remember to take my meds.
Ever since I got off birth control to try and get prego, my uterus has gone rogue and continually attempts to take my life once a month. Because of this, my friendly neighborhood vag doctor suggested trying out birth control again, this time the pill. So I was like, "Alright. Whatever keeps my insides from committing harikari every 27 days is fucking a-alright with me." It seemed like a great idea until I figured out why I never took the pill in the first place. I can't remember to take that shit. It's annoying and it makes my penis envy skyrocket. All I can say is its a pain in the ass and come shark week I'd better see some positive results.

#2. I am getting too old for the bullshit.
From the little petty fights over dumb shit to the little fibs we all tell to spare each others feelings to being treated like anything besides the magnificent land mermaid I truly am, I'm fucking over it. My bullshit tolerance has severely diminished in the last few years. There is absolutely no reason for me to emotionally explode over stupid shit anymore. You talk trash to me, I'll give you a respectable response but beyond that, by Felicia. Go be sad about your life somewhere else, you hateful heifer. I don't need your negativity in my life.

#3. I'll sleep until whenever the hell I want.
I get that I probably should be productive on the weekends but honestly, if I want to sleep all day, I'm gonna do it. No amount of texts or calls is going to change that. So to my sister, I'm sorry you're bored but I'm an adult. If I want to sleep for 17 hours, I'm going to sleep for 17 hours. I'm not going to feel bad about it. Also I probably peed the bed, please come change my sheets and roll me so I don't develop bedsores.

#4. I'll act whatever age I wanna act.
I'm not saying that in a tantrum like way but if I want to beat on a tambourine while wearing a pink wig and interpretive dancing to Sia, well damn it, Imma do it. I pay taxes. If you don't like it, go find something more adultier to spend you time on, like analyze the stock market or organize your sock drawer, I don't give a shit what you do. Just get your foot off my ribbon dancer and clear the room, I've got cartwheels to attend to.

#5. I am allowed to make mistakes.
I'm 30, not dead. Last time I checked there isn't an age that automatically makes you immune to bad decision making. So I'll continue to make mistakes and yeah, most of them are going to be really, really dumb but I'm not that worried about it and you shouldn't be either. Shit happens. Plus it's all the mistakes that make life entertaining. Maybe not at that moment, maybe not to you but I'd probably laugh at your misfortune, just as I expect you to laugh at mine. Life is too short.

#6. Patron is delicious.
Nuff said.

So in closing, those are a few of the magical things I have to share with the world as a 30 year old. I'm super not pumped about being 30, not that it really matters because I was told a couple weeks ago I look 27 so I'm sticking with that. I'm 27...don't ask questions...