Mental Health Update

Today is World Mental Health Day!  So I figured . . . what better day to finally come back to my blog and post an update about my mental health journey?

Overall, right now, my mental health is in a really good place.  In the time since I moved to Washington, I've gotten a psychiatrist, been diagnosed with OCD, and started on a new antidepressant.

The thing is, my mental health had been dipping quite a bit before I left AZ.  For probably the last year that I was in Flagstaff, I started developing OCD symptoms.  Now, I struggled with OCD as a child, and there's always been a small element of it with my issues, but it had never been a huge problem for me as an adult.  When Jenny and I got to WA, the OCD peaked--I'm sure the stress of the move and the transition into working from home contributed.  It got to a point where it was impacting my life: showering was a massive undertaking that took hours, I couldn't leave the house without doing multiple OCD routines, I wasn't sleeping . . . it was a nightmare.  I started seeing my psychiatrist in the summer of 2017, and at that point, the plan was just to get me re-medicated and see if that helped.  I had hopes that it would, because the OCD had been getting worse as my medication issues had gone on (remember, I didn't have a regular psychiatrist and regular prescriptions for the last year or so I was in Flagstaff).

For all of 2018 I did well with my meds, but the OCD just got worse.  So in January of 2019, I told my psychiatrist I needed something different, because I just couldn't do it anymore.  I had done a lot of research and I asked to be put on Zoloft.  Thankfully my doctor was totally on board, and he thought Zoloft was a great option for me.  So we started that, and I titrated up to a 200 mg/day dose, and . . . it has actually helped a TON!  I've eliminated or limited a bunch of routines, and even with the stuff I'm still working on, my life isn't nearly as impacted by it.  I feel SO MUCH BETTER than I used to, so much more capable of just living my life.  It's great.  And hopefully it keeps getting better, because there are definitely still some things I'm working on.

Another thing that's been really good the past year-ish has been that I've been able to really think about my issues and kind of delve into them and figure myself out.  For example, I've recognized a very specific anxiety trigger that has been with me since I was a kid, I was just never able to quantify it before.  And I recognize that my OCD gets worse in certain situations, like when I'm PMS-ing.  

My overreaction/rage issues are pretty much completely gone.  That's probably the biggest change I've noticed about myself is that I'm just calm about things that, if they happened years ago, would have made me break down.  Last fall, for example, Jenny and I went to leave the apartment to run errands one day, and the car wouldn't start.  I couldn't get it towed for a couple days, and then it took a few days to fix, and . . . it just didn't bother me.  I mean, I wasn't thrilled, because it was a very expensive annoyance, but I took the bus when I needed to go out (I was still working at home when this happened) and just . . . handled it.  As frustrating as it was, it was good to see that progress.  I'm just a lot more capable of dealing with life than I used to be.

I also have a much stronger sense of self than I used to.  That was something I struggled with for a long, long time--feeling like I didn't know myself and had no clue who I was.  And I remember stressing about weird things like not having a cohesive set of hobbies and stuff like that.  But now I'm in a place where I can just embrace and be happy with whatever I feel like doing because . . . it's all me.  (I know that's cheesy as hell but it's true!)  Some days I write, some days I sew, some days I hike, some days I play Overwatch . . . and it's all awesome and I love it.  I actually LIKE myself now and holy crap, it's a good feeling.

And of course, Jenny has been a fantastic help and support through all of this.  I truly don't know what I'd do without her.  (For the record, we're still just roommates/best friends/exes . . . and it's still easy and not weird or awkward or anything.)  

I really am happier and more content than I've ever been as an adult, and I have so much hope and optimism for the future!  I think things will only get better from here.

2 Years of Evolution

So I was actually going to write this post back at the end of the May (around the 2 year break up anniversary), but then . . . I just got busy and it got pushed to the back burner and I ended up not getting around to it then.

But the more I've thought about it, the more I've realized that today—the first of July—is actually a more appropriate anniversary for this journey I've been on. Because, even though it was on May 25^th that Ex-Fiance told me he didn't think we should get married, that relationship didn't truly end—and I didn't truly start to focus on myself and getting better—until I moved back up to Flagstaff. And that happened two years ago today.

Honestly, it's hard to even know where to begin when I talk about this. I've changed so drastically since that day two years ago that I barely know how to put it into words. I've talked about it a lot on here, in bits and pieces, but summing it all up is a challenge.

The day that Ex-Fiance drove me to Flagstaff felt like the worst of my life. To say I was miserable would be a pretty major understatement. I remember the anxiety and numbness coming in waves: my stomach knotting up, palms sweating, heart racing, and then a sudden detachment, a sense of almost nothingness, like I was outside of my body and all around not a part of what was going on. I didn't want to be in Flagstaff; I kept thinking that there was no way I was ever going to get better in the place where my life had completely fallen apart. I kept thinking about my nephew and and saying goodbye to him and how awful that had been, and how bitter I was at being forced out of my hometown and away from my family. At the time I had a crappy job and really didn't know how I was going to survive financially. I knew I needed a full time job, but I also knew that I wasn't mentally well enough to hold down a full time job . . . and I wasn't going to be able to afford treatment without a full time job. (How's that for a vicious cycle?). I didn't have a car and I was dreading having to depend on the bus system. And on top of that I had just gotten dumped; I was with the man I loved, the man I had fully intended to spend the rest of my life with, the man I was supposed to have married just the day before, and I knew that at the end of the day he was going to leave. I remember that he stuck around for a few hours, and that I felt like I was going to throw up when he finally said he needed to get going. He kissed me and told me he loved me before he left; I stood on my porch and watched him drive away and wished that I was dead.

On that day my life just didn't make sense. I looked at it from all the angles I could, and it sucked from every single one. I don't think I'd ever felt more defeated than I did that day. My future—to me, at least—looked bleak. Very, very bleak.

Today, two years later, I am happier than I've ever been. And it was just a normal, busy day; I got up, went to work (at both jobs), and came home to Jerbs and my dogs. That's probably the best part about being mentally healthy—that the normal, uneventful, everyday kind of days are happy ones. When I was sick I hated being alive, hated having to live through every day, but now I'm truly engaged in my life and myself. It's such a good feeling.

I've come so far in two years. I got an amazing full time job, and I've been excelling at it for almost 18 months now. I feel like a lot of my personal growth has come from my job at MHC, for a lot of reasons. The financial stability has been great, and has led to a lot less anxiety about money. I've also been able to start getting my credit on track. Aside from that, I feel like I've become a lot more confident about myself since I started at MHC. I've taken on more responsibility there than I ever imagined I would; some of the things that have been added to my work load are things that, when I first started, I didn't think I could do or would want to do. But now, I'm pretty sure I could do anything that was asked of me at work; I'm very confident in my abilities. And the confidence that's come from everything I do at MHC is what let me to be sure I could handle a second job. And let me tell you that having two jobs makes me feel absolutely amazing.

It's also been a great experience to work with people who don't know me as being sick. My co-workers like me, and just think of me as me. And it's been nice to be looked at like a normal person, to have been able to make friends and just . . . I don't know, show people who I really am. When you think about it, my MHC co-workers are the first group of people who have ever met me without knowing anything about my mental health history. And I'm definitely not saying that I feel like other people in my life have been judgmental; I'm just saying that it's kind of nice to have people in my life who never saw me like that. They make me feel normal.

I've stopped overreacting to things. I feel like in the past, things that were pretty small and insignificant would make me freak out. Like changes in schedules or the store being out of something I needed or whatever. Those little things would just make me go ballistic and ruin my whole day. Now, those things just don't bother me. And even bigger things that happen don't bother me as much. Like the flat tire on my way to work last month. Old me would have lost my shit. I'd probably have cried and screamed and kicked my car. I wouldn't have had the money to pay for a tow or new tire and I'd have made Jerbs wake up and meet me so she could take care of it. I probably would have been so upset that I'd have called in to work because I wouldn't have been able to focus after freaking out. And then I'd have come home and thrown myself a huge pity party and thought about all the reasons my life sucked. But instead, I rolled my eyes, grumbled a little bit (because no one WANTS to get a flat tire on their way to work on a Monday morning), and took care of it. I joked with the tow truck driver, passed the time at the tire shop playing Angry Birds on my phone, and then went to work. And that was just that. It didn't even remotely ruin my day.

I've stopped focusing on other people's lives and letting them effect me. Before I dreaded reading Facebook statuses because every little thing just . . . I don't know, made me get all over analytical about my own life. Any time a friend would get engaged or get married or move or get a job or really succeed in any way, I'd have an anxiety attack about the fact that I wasn't succeeding. I felt like a failure and everyone else's successes just reinforced that over and over again. It got to points where I wouldn't be able to focus on anything else and would get far too wrapped up in other people's lives for my own good. Now when I hear about good things happening to other people on Facebook, I'm just happy for them. I'm doing well enough in my own life, at this point, that I can come back to it easily. And even more than that, I want to come back to it. No matter how well anyone I know is doing, I like my own life better. I used to dread the future but now I'm excited about it. I see so much potential in myself and I know I'm going to accomplish great things.

I've stopped feeling like I need to define myself and become more OK with all of the parts of my personality co-existing. Before I felt like I had to pick who I was and whenever I did anything I wondered about how that fit into this over arching definition of me. For example, I remember once I got to thinking that I hadn't done a sewing project in a while. So I decided I wanted to sew something. And what should have been as easy as picking a pattern, grabbing some fabric, and setting up my machine turned into a massive anxiety attack because I just didn't know if I was the type of person who sewed. Does that make sense? My head made it a far bigger thing than it was, I guess. I just didn't know how to reconcile all the things I enjoyed into one personality. It seems so ridiculous now but it was a very serious issue at the time. And now I really get that I can be all the things I like and it's all just part of who I am. I sew, I write, I read, I hike, I work out . . . and it's all fine. I can do all those things without worrying about what they mean.

In general, my mind just feels more mine than it used to. I feel like I didn't used to have a lot of control over where my thoughts would go and what they would do; it was to the point that I couldn't really read books or watch TV or movies because I never knew how they'd effect my thought process. It sounds crazy but it's true. I was so afraid of the anxiety or depression or mania or whatever might come up that I just avoided anything I hadn't read or seen before. And it's silly but I missed those things, and having them back is a small victory but a victory nonetheless.

One thing that I haven't talked much about on here is that I've found my faith since I started this journey two years ago. I used to be a staunch atheist. And while I don't think there's anything wrong with that at all, my views in that area have definitely shifted. I don't know that I'd call myself a Christian, and I haven't read the Bible, and I don't go to church, but I do believe in God. I feel like my faith is something I want to experience on my own terms; I pursue a personal relationship with a higher power and that's that. I will say that I pray a lot, and that I feel very blessed. I see God at work every day in my own life. Like I said, I don't talk about it much, because it's very private.

Right now, I really do love my life. It's not perfect but it's wonderful, and I'm happy. I love where I live, I love what I do, and I love who I am. I am aware, every single day, of how fortunate I am to have gotten where I am from where I was. And I am thankful, every single day, for everything that got me there: for God, for my family, for Jerbs, for my ex, and for my own determination.

It hasn't been an easy journey, but it has been a beautiful one. As much pain and struggle as there's been, I don't think I'd change a thing.

Three Hundred and Sixty Five

I'm really not sure what to say about the one year anniversary but I feel like I need to say something.

It was a quiet, uneventful day.  My co-worker brought her kids over to visit Max (they're the ones I adopted him from) and they and Max had so much fun.  We took Max on a long walk together and when they left, he tried to leave with them; afterward he just sat at the front door and cried.  I took him to PetSmart and ran a few errands, then spent my evening watching LOST on Netflix and cleaning/organizing things around here.

So all in all, not a whole lot to talk about.  I expected it to feel . . . I don't know, more significant, but I didn't actually think about it much.  I mean, in the back of my mind, I was aware, all day, of the one year thing but overall, it wasn't too big a deal.  I thought about calling him more than once but every time I dialed his number I hung up before I even pressed talk.

It's hard to believe it's been a year.  Past that, I don't know what to say, really.  On the one hand this feels like a deadline: if it's been a whole year then it's definitely time to give up and stop hoping and just move on with my life regardless of how strongly I feel I'm not quite ready to do that.  On the other hand this has somehow made me feel more hopeful, in the sense of maybe now it's been long enough.  Maybe now enough time has passed that we can sit down and talk things out and go from there.

Sometimes I look at the past year and I feel like a failure.  I feel like there's so much more I could have accomplished if I'd worked a little bit harder or devoted myself a little bit more.  This is really pretty limited to my weight and physical health--sometimes I look in the mirror and I think to myself, Do you know how much you could have accomplished in a year if you'd just eaten better and worked out more?  And yeah, it disappoints me.

At the same time, though, I know that I have accomplished tons in the past year.  Reading blog entries and FB statuses from this time last year is proof that I'm really a completely different person now than I was then.

First and foremost, my mental health has improved by leaps and bounds.  I'm healthier now than I ever have been as an adult.  I feel like I'm in control of my own mind, I'm not as angry or as bitter, my sense of self gets stronger every day.  And even more than that I'v been able to commit to my treatment.  I take my medicine every day, I go to my doctor's appointments, I get my lab work done when I'm supposed to.  All great things that I definitely wasn't doing as much or as well before.  I don't have anxiety attacks anymore and I can sleep without sleeping pills.  I feel capable.  I do still have bad days but now when I do, they're normal bad days in the sense that whatever made them bad is a legitimate thing to be upset about.  Does that make sense?  Mostly I don't blow things out of proportion anymore, and one little aggravation doesn't ruin my day.

I'm also just . . . I don't know.  At this time last year I was mentally a mess, I didn't own a car, and I was making $8 an hour working in retail.  Now, I'm mentally healthy, was just able to buy a car on my own, and I'm making almost double what I used to be plus working actual full time hours.  It amazes me, because a year ago, I wouldn't have been able to have a full time job given my mental state.

So really, the best thing to say is that I've done well.  I've done as well as I could despite the fact that I got my heart broken and that I'm still heart broken right this very second.

At the end of the day, I still miss Ex-Fiance.  And I still love him.  And I would still really, really like the opportunity for a second chance.

I want him to know me like this.  I want him to see who I really am.  That girl that made him miserable . . . that wasn't me.  That's *not* me.  And I know that I'm at a point where I could be in a relationship and do it successfully, and I want it to be with him.  I still feel, very strongly, that I could be happy spending the rest of my life with him.

So that's that.  Either way--with Ex-Fiance or without Ex-Fiance--I feel like I have a bright future and I'm glad to be alive and healthy.

I remember, just after the break up happened, I was in the back room at the Kingman Hastings with one of my co-workers.  We were talking, and I said something about how scared I was that things might not work out with Ex-Fiance in the end.  And my co-worker said, "So if that happens, then worst case scenario is you survive and come out of this knowing you can handle anything."  I honestly think it was the most useful thing anyone said to me at that point and I've carried it with me and repeated it to myself and now it feels more true than ever.

I'm looking forward to summer.  To my life.  To all the things I have yet to accomplish.

More Mental Shifts

I find that lately (the past two weeks or so) I've been having quite a few positive mental shifts like the one I mentioned before, so I thought I'd write about them.  I am loving this little stage in getting better because it feels like I'm over the hill now, if that makes sense.  Like all the struggling and  trying and treatment is finally really and truly starting to pay off.

I have less social anxiety now, especially when it comes to work.  I used to kind of obsess about how I was being perceived by my co-workers, about how they saw me and how I was doing my job.  I constantly worried that I was rubbing someone the wrong way or irritating someone and there were days when I'd go home and replay conversations from the day over and over in my head.  I don't feel that anymore, or at least not as strongly.  And granted some of that is probably just actually having a good job and good co-workers where I'm respected, but still, my gut tells me that if I'd gotten this job when I was still really sick it would not have gone well.

If anything I now struggle with this in the opposite direction: I have a hard time accepting that nothing's going wrong at work, that my co-workers like me, and that I am trusted to do my job and be competent.  It's an odd feeling.

I'm also better at taking constructive criticism, although I probably still need work in this area.  There are times when I worry that whatever co-worker is telling me to fix something is secretly pissed that I work there.  At the same time I also think that if I was a big problem I'd already have been talked to about it, and they know that I'm still learning.  Still better than I used to be though.

I am less afraid now.  In the past I have definitely been the type to hide from my problems; if it's something I didn't want to deal with, I just didn't deal with it.  I would put off painful conversations, anything to do with bills and money, and anything that made me sad.  I've gotten over this in a big way.  When I need to talk about something now, even if I'm dreading it, I just do it (it's usually nothing big, I just used to be weird!).  I've stopped even giving myself time to hesitate.  Financially, I pay a lot more attention to my money, and I'm in the process of making payments that I was unable to for a long time.  I'm still working on this area because discussions about money just make me nervous, and I still need to sit down and write out a budget but I'm much better than I used to be.  I also take my financial responsibilities seriously, most noticeably in the fact that I've given Jerbs rent money out of every paycheck I've gotten since I started working.  And things that make me sad don't crop up often, but recently, Benji* was in desperate need of a grooming, so I finally sucked it up and shaved him and bathed him.  Grooming him just makes me so sad, because I can feel how frail he is and how old he's getting it, and I hate thinking about how he probably won't be with me much longer.  I think in the past, I wasn't able to put myself through that kind of stuff because I knew that it would always go deeper because I was mentally weak.  But now . . . well, it still made me incredibly sad because I want Benji to live forever (seriously, I love that dog), but it didn't fuck up my life for days.  Benji was pissed at me for a few days (he really hates baths) but whatever.  Basically I was able to do what I had to do and then continue living without over analyzing it or letting it get the best of me, if that makes sense.  In the past I'd have spent a few days moping and crying and beating myself up for being a bad dog owner.

This one is more difficult to explain, but it's also one of the best ones.  I used to have this weird feeling that I was almost outside my own body; like I wasn't invested in my life, but rather was watching from outside it, like I was watching someone else live my life.  It was an odd, odd thing, and it's almost completely gone now.  There are still days when it crops up but I'm definitely at a point where I have an easier time seeing myself in my life and feeling fully engaged than I used to.

I also used to have trouble imagining my future for the same reason.  When I would picture myself down the road, whether it was a month or a year or a decade, I would have this sensation of it just being impossible, like I was, again, on the outside looking in.  I never really knew why this was but I think now that it was because at the time I just literally couldn't conceive of ever being healthy or capable enough to achieve what I was imagining.  This was especially true of my relationship with Corey.  I would imagine us married and living outside of AZ, just being happy together; working and coming home to each other and cooking dinner together and having date nights and going on vacations and so much more, and even though it was beautiful, I also felt very strongly that the woman I imagined doing those things with him just wasn't me.  I felt like I would never, ever be the type of woman who could have that life, that kind of relationship with someone.  But now, that all feels very possible, and when I imagine those things, whether with him or just generally, I genuinely see myself in those moments.  It's beautiful**, and I really, finally believe in the possibility of my own life.

My personal favorite mental shift is that I have stopped having all these weird questions of identity.  I used to spend my days doing nothing because I was so anxious about whether what I wanted to do made sense to my identity.  Like, I'd think, I want to read, or write, or sew, or whatever, and I wouldn't know which one to choose because I didn't know which one was me.  I had no idea who I was (the benchmark of borderline personality disorder), and therefore I felt the need to fit my whole identity into a really concrete definition.  So I'd wonder: am I the type of person who writes? who reads? who sews? who hikes? who whatevers?  It was horrible.  But now, I feel much more relaxed about this, and I realize that I can be a person who does ALL of those things, and that if I go through phases where I prefer one over the other, then that's not a big deal.  I need to do what makes me happy and what I enjoy, period the end.

So I'm doing well.  Very well.  And I love it.
--------------------
*Seriously, I love Benji.  I would give anything for him to be healthy again.  If somehow I could make it that way I would.  But he's not doing so hot right now and I try to just focus on the fact that I gave him the best life he could possibly have and saved him from misery and death.  When he passes I'm going to have him cremated, and then when I die, his urn will be buried with me.  I'm also going to get a memorial tattoo for him.

**The only downside of this newfound sense of possibility is that it makes the breakup even more painful.  It sucks to know that I've finally gotten there--like I can finally legit be with someone in a real way--but that the one person I want to be with . . . well, you know.

Bringin' My A-Game in April!

It's April.  And I'm excited about it.  Yeah, it started off a smidge crappy with my bad day Monday but hey, it was a Monday, and I'm still excited.

I just feel glad for a new month.  I've been kind of slacking in some areas the past couple months (namely my diet) and I'm just done with that.  I don't know why but something about this trip to Kingman this past weekend just made me feel better.  Happier, calmer, more hopeful, renewed.  It made me think about how I want to work on myself even harder and how much I still need to do.

So this month, I'm going to work my ass off.  I'm going to be stricter about my diet, I'm going to workout with a vengeance, I'm going to improve at work, I'm going to save money, I'm going to write.

This is more than just a renewed sense of confidence, though.  I experienced a really amazing mental shift this weekend that I think will do wonders for me as I continue to get better.

I feel like for a long time, I have this sort of false sense of determination.  Like I'll say that I'm going to do this or do that and even though I want to do those things, I can't seem to stick with it.  And I always promise myself that this time'll be different and this time it's for real and so on but I also always know that I'm lying to myself.  And I hate it but I've also been in a place where I try not to push myself and just do what I can, and it's frustrating to be afraid to push myself, if that makes sense.

But . . . I don't know.  All of a sudden this weekend, I believed myself.  I told myself, I am going to do this, and I believed.  I do believe it.  And while this probably doesn't seem like a huge deal, I think it is, because I finally trust myself.  I finally believe myself.  I finally feel like I can rely on myself.  And it is overwhelming and I know that this time it's for real.  I love it.

I also realized something else this weekend.  I've felt, for quite awhile now, very READY to talk to Corey about us and our relationship.  Like I'm ready to have that conversation and all that.  And this weekend I realized that I'm actually not completely ready, that I have to work a little more on myself before that conversation happens.  I think what I need is just one month where I do really, really well.  Where I stick to my goals and the things I need to do, where I just get even better.  So hello April!

Plus that realization--that I'm not ready--didn't actually bother me.  It's hard, because I want to talk it out now (this is all assuming that he wants to talk it out too), but also, I felt calm.  I trust that if that conversation is supposed to happen, then it will, and whenever it happens it will be the right time.  I have a good feeling that that conversation is in my future, though.

A Reminder

Today I woke up at 6:30 AM, showered/blow dried/moisturized/got dressed/etc, and left the apartment at 7:10(ish).

I went to work.  During my lunch hour I went to the gym and did a half an hour of cardio (elliptical today).  I went back to work and finished out my day there.  Then I went back to the gym and took an hour long yoga class, then did another half hour on the elliptical.

Then I spent an hour on the bus to come home (super lame, I know), and got home at about 8:35 PM.  Which basically means that I had a 13 hour day.

And y'know what?  I freaking loved it.  It was a great day, both work wise and fitness wise and just mental health wise.

During the bus ride home I got to thinking (because what else is there to do on that long a bus ride?) and it occurred to me that 3 years ago--or even a year and a half ago--the mere thought of a day like today would have paralyzed me with anxiety and fear and dread.  I probably would have found a way to get out of it and shut myself in the house all day, or would have suffered through it and completely broken down.

But not today.  Today I was freaking awesome, and I am so damn proud of that.

It was a great reminder of how far I've come and how much better I've gotten.

I love it.  And I'm happy.  And I'm going to do this every Tuesday for at least the next few weeks, and I absolutely don't doubt that I can.

Win/Fail + Positive Changes

Win:  Today at work I joined the gym!  I'm so freaking excited about it I can't even tell you.  Plus I most def got a little bit of the VIP treatment because of where I work . . . I seriously love my job.  I had my workout stuff with me too, so I could get started after work.

Fail:  Going to change at the gym and discovering that the black sports bra I'd thrown into my bag was, in fact, a pair of black panties that were apparently mixed in with my sports bras.  So I didn't get my after work work out in and I was really, really disappointed.  Sigh.  I swear to God sometimes I just amaze myself!  But it's a funny story and there's always tomorrow (I already made sure to put the correct under garment in my gym bag).
---------------
Since I started my getting better journey, I've noticed some positive changes in myself.  Some are really obvious--like that I don't want to kill myself anymore and I don't scream and yell and throw things every other day.  Some, though, are less obvious and only occur to me when they pop up.

For example, I've noticed that my old door mat tendencies have gone away, and I'm no longer afraid to stand up for myself.  I've stopped backing down from my opinions to make other people happy and avoid confrontation.  I mean, obviously I'm not going around picking arguments with people, I just . . . I stand my ground now.

My bed was supposed to be delivered today.  They were supposed to call me before they brought it (and then I was supposed to call Jerbs since she was the one home), but I never heard from them, and by the time I was on the bus home at almost 6 PM my bed still wasn't here.  So I called and the girl basically said she'd meant to call me and let me know that they were going to have to move my delivery to tomorrow.

I told her that no one would be home tomorrow and that that was why I'd asked for Tuesday.  She told me the bed wasn't ready; I told her they could deliver it on Thursday.  I also told her--firmly--that I was told Tuesday, and that if I had to wait, I would expect a refund of the delivery fee.  She said she'd see what she could do, I heard back from her a few minutes later, and the end of the story is that my bed is here and I'll be sleeping in it tonight.

I was so proud of myself.  Old me would have accepted a later delivery and then cried about it but instead, I stood up for myself.  I held this company accountable for what the services they'd promised.  I'm not mad at them or anything, but at the same time I most definitely wanted to make sure they held up their end.  I mean, I gave them my business and my money, and I wanted what I'd paid for.  I think this is another change in my way of thinking: knowing the difference (both emotionally and otherwise) of being mad at/hating someone/being offended by someone, and holding them accountable/expecting them to do their jobs.  Like when someone tells me I did something wrong at work, I don't end up thinking they totally hate me or whatever, and I don't take it personally--I just fix what I did wrong, remember to do it right the next time around, and remind myself that I'm still learning.  And at the end of the day I still like all my co-workers.  And by the same token, I know that if I ask someone to do something or suggest something to them, they aren't mad at me for doing so.  Does that make sense?

Anyway, there are more ways I've stood up for myself recently, and it's a good feeling.  A good good feeling.

Six Months & An Evaluation

Today it's been six months since Ex-Fiance told me he didn't think we should get married.
--------------------
I remember that moment very well.  What was said, how it sounded, what he looked like as he was saying it.  It's hard to put into words what I felt when that happened.  I was shocked because even though I knew things weren't good, I really wasn't expecting it.  As time passed and I decided to go back to Flagstaff and I packed my things and quit my job and I realized that all of those things were really happening, I don't think it's an understatement to say that I felt like my life had done a complete 180 overnight.  I was beyond devastated and completely heartbroken.  I spent a lot of time crying--randomly bursting into tears at work, crying any time I saw or spoke to Austin, crying whenever I looked at Ex-Fiance.  I felt so lost and so . . . out of place.  The last two and a half weeks that I was in Kingman Ex-Fiance and I started to reconnect a little, and that was a blessing.  I left at least knowing that he didn't hate me and that he did still have some feelings for me.  I dreaded coming back to Flagstaff in a way that I had never dreaded anything before.  Flagstaff was, in my mind, a place of intense negativity, where a whoooole lot of bad things had happened to me, and I thought, I will never, ever, ever get better there.  The day we left for Flagstaff was impossibly difficult for me, because I honestly felt like I was losing my whole life--Ex-Fiance, my parents, my sisters, Austin, my job/co-workers, my car, my gym, a house that I loved, my pets, bell choir, orchestra . . . everything.
--------------------
Now it's been six months.  Six months since the break up and almost five months since I got back to Flagstaff.

There's a part of me that can't believe it's been this long.  For half of a year, I've been single.  It's so odd to think that because I really thought, when I got engaged, that I'd never be single again.  I also can't believe I came back to Flagstaff, because after I struggled so hard to leave this place behind, I didn't think life would ever, ever bring me back here.

So six months in, how am I doing?

Surprisingly well.  I'm honestly shocked at how well I've done since I got to Flagstaff.  I thought I'd be a complete mess.  I thought I'd get here and be completely unable to function.

But that hasn't been the case.

I've adjusted to taking the bus very well, and instead of thinking all the time about how much I want a car, taking the bus is just second nature.  I've started eating a little better and drinking more water and I've lost a few pounds.  I've held down a job as well as I could for as long as I could and am actively looking for another.  I've worked out.  I've written two short stories.  I've watched TV and slept and played video games and hung out with Jerbs and . . . well, I've lived my life.  And I have taken my medication nearly every.single.day. and I have seen the improvement that comes with it.  I've made peace with Jerbs and all the things that happened between us.

I feel like I'm doing much, much better right now than I was six months ago.  Mentally, I'm night and day.  I am so much healthier now.  SO much healthier.  I really can't even express the difference in my thought processes and the things I can deal with now.  I'm just so much more at home in my own mind.  I finally feel like myself, for the first time in years.  It's amazing.  And honestly, if I had to go through all that heartbreak to finally get to a place of real mental health, then . . . then I'm OK with that.  Because what I have needed all along was just to get better.  I feel like I've accomplished that since I got here.  Do I still have a ways to go? Absolutely.  But I'm a hell of a lot closer to my end goals than I've ever been.

Since the move I've found my own inner strength, and I am amazed by it.  I never thought I'd be this person. Back in 2009/2010 at the height of my disorder I never thought I'd get better.  I started to believe that I was just supposed to be sick, that I wasn't meant for a real, normal life like other people.  And now I know how untrue that is, and I am so happy with myself.  I really am.

The thing is, I know I still have a lot to work on and a lot to do to get where I want to be.  But the thing is, I'm OK with that now.  I feel like that's DOABLE.  I feel like I can work towards those goals and . . . y'know, meet them, I suppose.  Before, if I'd been where I am now, I'd be panicking about it.  Panicking and worrying about everything I wanted to do and struggling to figure out how to do it.  But now I feel OK with the journey, and that's a beautiful change in myself.
--------------------
So how do I feel about Ex-Fiance after six months?

In short, I still love him.  I still feel like my heart is his, and I still believe that at some point, we need to have a conversation about us.

I still want a second chance and I still think that we could make things work between us if we tried.  I still hope for that.  I think that eventually it's going to happen, and I am trying to just be patient until it does.  And I'm at a point where I feel really ready to talk things out; I feel like I'd be able to have that conversation now without freaking out or anything like that.
--------------------
At any rate, I think that from here I'm only going to keep getting better, and that makes me happy.

Struggles and Stuff

I now know for sure that my full body soreness is just from my POS air bed.  For the past few weeks Jerbs has been offering to let me have her bed for a night and I keep declining because . . . I don't really know.  This morning I woke up as she was leaving, and I felt like crap.  I was so sore, and I'd slept maybe 2 hours the whole night, so I figured, what the hell.  I threw her blankets and pillows on my bed and moved mine over to hers, and I crashed.  I crashed hard.  I fell asleep basically as soon as I layed down and I didn't fully wake up until my alarm went off.  When I got up my hips didn't hurt and my back didn't hurt . . . glorious.
--------------------
Remember how I was talking about feeling like a failure and now knowing how to get out of that feeling?  Well, the thing is, I know what I need to do to fix it.  I know what I need to do to fix myself.  I have a whole list of self improvement goals right here on this blog.  And at one point  I was really determined to do all of those things.  But I get to points where I feel so behind that there's really no point in trying to improve.  What's the point of becoming the best version of myself now when I've already wasted so much of my life?  I'm 27 years old and have really done nothing with my life, and honestly, the thought of trying now and being determined now just seems pathetic and stupid.  I don't know how to shake that feeling of pointlessness in getting better.  Hopefully this has something to do with my low Li levels.
--------------------
I got my Lithium today.  Which is good.
--------------------
Tomorrow is the deadline to a short short story contest I'd been hoping to enter and unfortunately, I wasn't able to finish a writing project for it.  I'm disappointed because I had a few good ideas in mind and this contest had a big prize but . . . oh well, I suppose.
--------------------
After I wrote out that entry about giving up as far as Ex-Fiance is concerned I got to thinking about the whole setting a deadline thing and I started to wonder if I was right.  I know that I screwed up in our relationship too and I don't think his needing time/space is surprising or unreasonable.  And maybe it's unfair of me to say, be better by this date or it's not happening at all.  One of my goals was to let him get better while I did . . . and who am I to dictate how long that'll take?**  At the same time, I'd feel totally differently if I'd had any indication of how he was doing during this time apart.  As it is I stand by what I said.  New Years Eve.  If nothing's happened by then the new year will be my new start.  Then again, who knows?  Maybe I'm not even going to give it til then.
--------------------
I think what I'm struggling with most is just that something that meant so much and was such a big part of my life could be . . . just nothing.  Y'know?  Like . . . I can't even really put into words how strongly I felt about him.  And how much I really did believe that I'd spend the rest of my life with him.  And I know Ex-Fiance felt that way too and it just kind of blows my mind that it went from that to nothing.  And that eventually, he'll marry someone else and that'll be his real future, and that I'll end up . . . well,  somewhere else at least.  It kills me and it makes me wonder how we ever get over anything at all and what the point of love ever really is.  I know that sounds jaded and more like a Taylor Swift song than something anybody actually thinks but . . . I kinda do.  More than anything I realize now that I never, ever, ever want to put myself in a position where I can get hurt like this again.  Ever.  Which means that as much as I love the idea of soul mates and romance and true love, I'll probably spend the rest of my life single.  And if I avoid this ever happening again it'll be worth it.  Besides, I can't just turn strong feelings like that on and off and fall in and out of love; it's all too much for me, I think, so the dating scene really will never be my thing.
--------------------
**I know it always comes across like Ex-Fiance has all the power in this situation--like whatever happens between us is going to be at his say.  And in a way right now that's true.  But only because I feel like my cards have been on the table since the very beginning.  I've made it clear since the break up happened that I want to get back together, whereas he's been the one who was unsure.  (Well, not unsure, but you know what I mean).
--------------------
In a way I've started to feel like it never happened.  And that's really disconcerting.  In the time since I've been in Flag I've (obviously) thought a lot about Ex-Fiance, and usually the thoughts give me . . . well, feelings, I guess.  Like remembering happy things either makes me happy or sad, flashing back to the breakup itself pisses me off, imagining him moving on with someone new makes me anxious.  And now . . . now it feels like just nothing.  Like when I think of him, whether it's about good or bad, I have no strong feelings either way.  Just indifference.  And granted I've been feeling pretty indifferent towards my whole life right now, so maybe that'll all dissipate once I'm re-medicated.  But it's what I'm dealing with at the moment.

A Much Better Trip To K-town

I went to Kingman this past weekend.  I was there from Friday until Monday.  I won't lie, I was a little apprehensive about going, just because my last visit sucked so badly.

But all the worry was mostly for nothing because I ended up having a great time in Kingman.  It was a good trip, and much, much better than the last time.

This time, I didn't have to rent a car or take the bus--my sister came and got me and brought me back.  I am so incredibly grateful to her for doing that, because it saved me a lot of trouble and a lot of money too.  Granted I felt a little like a loser needing such a long ride but whatever, I'm still happy I went.

I had a great time.  I spent most of my weekend with Austin and we had so much fun together.  We played monsters and Batman and I gave him a few baths (he's a fish and loves to play in the bath).  We watched TV together and played Buzz Lightyear games on the computer.  I wish I had the time and energy to write down all of the funny and cute and sweet things he did/said while I was there but since I don't, here are the highlights.

--He got to meet Irene, Jerbs' cat, and pet her.  It was really cute.  He also walked around my apartment picking up totally random items and asking if they were Auntie Jerbs's.  It was too funny.  We ended up bringing this flashlight thing and some Halloween hole punches to Kingman because he wanted to play with them.

--His concern with bringing Benji to Kingman, like wear Benji would sleep and whether or not he'd bite Dolce and get her dirty.

--He put Benji's bed near Dolce's then sat in between and read the dogs a bed time story.

--Him actually sleeping in the living room with me for TWO nights!  On Friday he slept on the little couch and on Saturday afternoon he informed me that I had to sleep on the little couch that night.  Needless to say, that didn't happen, but it was funny.

--Him telling his mom he needed a needle to hang something up in his room.

--Before they picked me up, his mom and my other sister had gone to the mall, and my sister had gotten him a few bday presents.  They were in the back of the car and when Austin saw them (as we were putting my stuff in) he said, "You bought me presents?  Nice mama!  Nice mama!"  Later that weekend she did something he didn't like and he said, "Bad mama!  Bad mama!"  Too funny.

--Him telling Shannon she needed to get out of the bounce house because she was too little to bounce with me, my sister, and Taryn, and helping her out of the bounce house.  Later he made Shannon put socks on to go back in the bounce house with him.
--Having a sword fight with him in the driveway, where he got a sword and I got two golf clubs.  It was pretty awesome.
--Taking him to Cracker Barrel for lunch on his birthday, where the servers sang happy birthday to him and gave him a piece of chocolate cake.  He was so adorably shy and embarrassed over it.
--Him insisting that the toy he wanted from the Cracker Barrel shop was a grabber.  Which he did get, and then proceeded to use to grab my dad by the wrist and lead him around the front yard while reassuring him that even though he was going to jail, he'd come get him when it got to dark time.
--Austin's horror when I suggested putting his pajamas on before it was "dark time."  (Sometimes I forget that not everyone wears sweats at home.)
--On our way out of town for the return trip we stopped for gas, and Austin and I went inside for a snack/drink.  Austin wanted an icee, and he made me mix all 4 flavors of icee they had.
--We dropped him off with his dad on our way to Flag and it was so hard to say good bye to him.  But we agreed we'd have another sleepover sometime soon.
---------------

Non Austin related highlights . . .

My sister's driveway has a really steep, pretty long hill down to the street.  When Austin and I were sword fighting, he "got" me and I had to fall down, and on a whim, I rolled down the driveway.  Like stomach to back.  Seemed like a good idea at the time even if it was a little painful, and Austin was incredibly entertained, so it was worth it.  Well, I woke up on Monday sore as hell, and I'm having trouble moving my left shoulder.  Go me.

On Friday night Shannon (my sister's best friend and roommate, who I basically consider my 3rd sister) let me drive her car to go get food for me and Saucy.  I was so touched.  I love Shannon, and I'm glad she and my sister are such good friends.

On Saturday night my sister and I had a long, painful conversation about some things that was actually pretty . . . I don't know, but definitely good.  It was nice to talk some things out and feel validated in some of the things I feel and have gone through.  It was nice to have someone believe me and not just write me off as crazy.  Plus it's nice to be able to have such a conversation with my sister, because honestly, we're not too close, and that's something I regret and that makes me sad.  It felt like a deeper connection for a while, and I liked that.

Sunday night I got depressed.  I just felt so sad that I had to leave, and I was going to miss Austin so much.  I cried a little.  I told Austin I loved him a lot, which I think he found strange, but whatever.  I just miss him and my family so much.

On Monday my sister and I shopped and had dinner together (with Jerbs too) at the mall before she left to go back to Ktown.  It was nice to hang out with her more one on one and just be able to talk.  Plus Jerbs and I showed her the Gangnam Style video before she left, and everyone should see that.

In a moment of epic failure I left my phone in Jenny's car, and of course didn't realize it until Jenny'd been gone almost 2 hours--which meant she was about in Kingman so there was zero chance she could bring me my phone.  My mom has it now and should mail it tomorrow . . . blergh.  I'm very annoyed with myself for that one.

So overall, it was a great trip.  I felt very at peace while I was there, and that whole depression/funk I'd been in lifted a lot.  But it was also a little sad, because it was a very very clear reminder that I want to be in Kingman.  That I miss that life a lot.  After Austin's party I thought about how glad I'd be if I were leaving with and going home with Corey, and it was just . . . kind of bittersweet, I guess.  I just felt wistful.  But I never broke down.

As for Corey and me, I did text him on Saturday, just to say that I was in town and I'd love to see him and to let me know if he wanted to hang out.  As far as I know he never texted me back (but I was having phone issues).  So that's that.  I'm still not giving up hope.  And the fact that I came back just fine even though I never heard from is a sign that I'm doing better, so I'm glad for that.

I got back to Flagstaff feeling determined.  I feel determined to get back to working on myself.  I'm going to get back to my diet and health stuff, I'm going to start working out, I'm going to find a new job, I'm going to try to get into counseling (no guarantee on that one though, just for financial reasons), I'm going to work on my grad school stuff and my writing.  I'm going to remain hopeful about Corey and me, because I still feel, in my heart, that we'll end up together.  I just have to be patient.

Looking Back

Recently, mostly out of boredom, I've gone through my Twitter account, reading tweets from the past two years--basically since I met Corey.  That inspired me to do the same thing on Facebook, and what started out as just something to do because I was bored ended up being pretty eye opening.

First of all, I remember how detached and disengaged I felt when I wrote a good chunk of those statuses, and it's an odd thing to remember.  I remember a lot of the statuses but I also remember only being half there when I wrote them.  It's strange, because that sense of detachment is something that has gotten a lot better in the past . . . oh, 5 monthsish.  And remembering it was almost terrifying, because in a way, I can't believe I ever lived like that.  I can't believe that was ever just my normal.  Now . . . well, I feel so much better in that regard, and it's kind of nice to see proof of improvement.  As far as the detachment goes, I wonder about how the whole break up thing might have helped with that, and in a way, I think I needed a big, traumatic event to pull me back into my life, if that makes sense.  (Although why a big happy event like finding the man of my dreams didn't do that I'll never understand . . . but too late to worry about that now).

Second of all, I was so negative.  Every other tweet or FB status that I posted was about being angry or sad or sick . . . I found very few positive things over the years.  And that's really just kind of depressing.  I mean, I knew I wasn't a happy person because I was sick, but I don't think I ever realized just how negative I was. I feel like I've definitely improved in that area as well, and if you look at my tweets or statuses since the break up, there's a lot more positivity.  I still have some bad days and it's not all sunshine but I feel like the bad things now are just normal things to be upset about.  Like posting that I'm ticked about not getting the job, or being frustrated over things at work--normal.  It's not like it used to be where every little thing that happened to me was negative or pissed me off or whatever.

Third of all--and most significantly, I think--I see the dichotomies in my personality; I see the kind of ups and downs and bipolar-ness of it.  Like there'll be statuses about how much I disliked Corey and how I wasn't sure if I wanted to be with him, but then within a day there'll be something about how much I love Corey and can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him.  It's . . . weird.  And it kind of makes me go, no wonder there was such tension between us.  No wonder I was so uneasy in the relationship--I couldn't figure things out.

I wonder why I was so up and down with Corey.  I think, it's just because I was sick.  And then I think, could it really be that simple?  Is it really just that easily explained?

I think it is.  I think it was all the mental illness.  I know that for Corey, it got to a point where he decided that we just weren't compatible, and that was what led to the end of our relationship.  But I honestly believe that if I were completely mentally healthy and he and I tried again, we would succeed.  And this sort of past reading has made me certain that I never would have gotten better while I was with Corey, no matter how much I wanted to.

What I can say is this: I have definitely changed for the better since our break up.  Which is not to say that I don't want to get back together with Corey or anything, because I definitely do.  I am just so much healthier mentally than I was at that point in time.  I read those old tweets and FB statuses and I know that they're mine, I know that those words came from me, but I feel like I'm a different person now than I was then.

I like me a lot better now.

Staying On Track

This is how I'm keeping myself on track from month to month.  And yes, it makes me feel a little like a 10 year old, but whatever works, right?

I made myself this little packet.  The first page is an October calendar so I can keep track of stuff (cuz y'know, I have a really busy social life and all . . . ).  Pages 2 and 3 are my mood chart, where I keep track of taking my medicine, how my moods are every day, how I sleep, whether or not I eat fast food or go to the gym, and my weight.  Mood charting is a big thing in bipolar patients and something that my psychiatrist has encouraged me to do since I first started seeing him.  It does help.  The last page is a list of goals I set for myself for October.  The goal list is a new thing but I think it'll be helpful.  Plus I like playing with Sharpies so I had fun writing it.

I also have a little notebook where I make weekly TO DO lists, because I'm weird like that.

Before

This is what I look like today.  I'm hoping that posting this here will add to the incentive to start getting healthier.  Because seriously . . . blech.  Especially the side view . . . I can't believe my neck/chin . . . so gross.  :(

I'm also hoping that in a few months, I can take more pictures and be like whoa, that's an awesome difference.  Also, today I weigh 180 pounds.  I have all of my measurements recorded too, but I really don't have the energy to post them here.

I think I'm going to weigh myself weekly, so every Friday, and take pictures like that monthly.

I did work out today!  I walked over to the work out room across the street tonight (finally . . . I dragged Jerbs with me for moral support) and worked out on the elliptical like thingy they have.  It's not the same as the ones in Kingman so the timing was different--I did 10 minutes, but the machine said that was 2 miles.  Not too shabby.  I also think I went faster because I've been walking so much and I've progressively just started walking faster (I used to take about 8 minutes to walk to the bus stop, now it takes me 4 or 5).  I'm proud of myself.  And it felt GOOD to work out!  I'm looking forward to doing it tomorrow night.

A New Month

It's September!

I like September.  Mostly because it means that summer's basically done and the weather's going to start cooling down.  I absolutely hate summers in AZ, because I can't stand the high heat.  It just makes everything worse in my opinion.  (Not that there aren't some summer specific activities I enjoy, but . . . well, I still hate the heat, and I didn't get to do any of the summer stuff I like this year because . . . oh yeah, I was dealing with having my heart stomped on instead . . . I like summer even less now).

But like I was saying.  It's September now and it's a new month, so I thought, why not set some goals for myself?

This month, the big thing I want to focus on is food and fitness.  Namely, I really, REALLY need to stop eating fast food and drinking so much soda.  I eat a ridiculous amount of fast food and I drink a ridiculous amount of Dr. Pepper, and I need to get it under control.  Like, it's almost embarrassing how much of those things I consume.  So while I don't think I'll be able to completely cut either soda or fast food out of my diet this month, I at least want to significantly cut back on them.  Even that small start will be big for me.

I also need to get back to working out.  I don't know exactly what to do where that's concerned.  I have access to Anytime Fitness until the 28th (I canceled my membership at the end of July, but per their contract, they take one more payment), but AF is a pain in the ass to get to on the bus and they don't have any of the equipment I like to use.  There's a workout room down the street at an apartment complex that's a "sister" complex to where I live, but as far as I know it doesn't have equipment I like either.  Then again, last I heard it was being renovated/updated, so who knows?  I just need to get up the energy to walk down there one night.  I could also just keep trying with the jogging but . . . blech.

I am also determined to start therapy this month.  I've mentioned before that I found the counselor I want to use and I need to call her office and find out about pricing and see what I can do.

The good news is that Hastings is actually giving me some decent hours all of a sudden (I got 15 the week before last, 19 this past week, and I'll work 24.5 this week) so my paychecks should get a bit bigger.  I'm still looking for a full time job but I'm not going to be as broke as I have been, so that's nice.  (Although when I work today I'll get my schedule for next week, and just watch, now that I've talked about how it's getting better I'll have like 6 hours next week or something).

The First Step

I'm starting to get a little frustrated.  When I decided to move back to Flagstaff, I was pretty upbeat about it. I mean, I'm still heartbroken over the whole situation, but I thought, this'll be my chance to really get myself together.  To really improve myself so that I can live my life with or without Corey.  And I feel so READY to do all that, I feel so READY to finally get better once and for all.

And I'm trying to stay optimistic but so far it's not going as planned.  I'm anxious to really get started and I need the first domino to fall.

The first step is to get a well paying full time job.  I've been looking every day, mostly at doctors' offices, because I've got experience as a receptionist and those jobs usually pay well.  I'm really really really hoping that The Guidance Center calls me back for a job I applied for.

Once I get a full time job, I feel like everything else will sort of start to fall into place.  It'll likely be a M--F 9 to 5 so I'll be on a regular schedule, which means I'll be able to fix my sleep schedule.  And a regular schedule and sleep schedule are really important in treating bipolar and borderline.

Plus I'll have money and I'll be able to buy a car.  This is a big one for me because I desperately want a car; I spend a lot of time researching and thinking about it.  A car would just make everything so much more convenient.  No more taking the bus and being sore and exhausted all the time, no more having to schedule everything around when the buses are ready (for me or for Jenny, and being able to help her would make me happy too).  And besides that, I think having my own car and that sense of independence would help with the identity element of the BPD.  I never realized how important having my own car was to my sense of identity until my car was totaled in October of '10.  It just made me feel like less than myself somehow.  And sharing Corey's car was ok, but I didn't like it, and I think that if I'd had my own car when we moved in together things might have gone a little bit better.

If I had a  car I'd be able to go to the gym, because the big reason I don't go is that I hate walking and walking and walking and then working out and walking and walking and walking . . . it sucks.  And going to the gym would motivate me to eat better, and I could finally start losing weight, which would make me feel a lot better about myself.

Having money would allow me to start therapy.  This is the BIG thing I need to do, because BPD responds to therapy, not medication.  So while the Lithium helps with it a little, in order to really get better I need to see a therapist.  That's the big thing I never did when I should have, and I want to do it now because I want to get better.

So I'm praying and praying and praying that something comes through for me.  In the meantime I'm doing everything I can on my own, which isn't much.

I just want to start getting my life back together so I can have my life back.

How . . .

. . . do you beat something unbeatable?

That's how I feel sometimes; it's how I've been feeling the past couple days.  That this illness or whatever that's in my head is unbeatable; that I'll live with it forever and as a result I will never really live.  And that breaks my heart.

I feel intensely detached right now.  I feel so incredibly lost.  I pray and pray for guidance and reassurance.

Something I keep remembering lately is the thought that God never gives you more than you can handle.  It's comforting but still . . . if this is what I'm able to handle (and by this I mean not only what's happened recently but all the things in my life that have led to this point) then there must be some astounding strength in me that I haven't found yet.  I try very hard to believe that there is a reason for all this and that if I work hard on myself and persevere I will be rewarded.  Maybe rewarded is the wrong word, but I'll end up happy and successful and where I want to be.

Despite all that there are still times when I'm angry and bitter and discouraged and I don't want to fight anymore.  I don't want to wake up not knowing where my head is; I don't want to have a crappy job; I don't want to be 27 and where I am.  (Those are all things I should expand on to get them off my chest but I just don't have the energy right now).

I try to tell myself that I already have been strong.  That I'm still alive, that in all of the moments I thought about killing myself and wanted to kill myself, something held me back.  That I started treatment; that even if it's taken me awhile to really devote myself to it I still did it.  That compared to where I was two years ago I am pretty far ahead.

There have been moments in my life where I have been certain I did not want to continue.  I used to pray at night (when I didn't even believe in a higher power) that I would die in my sleep and not wake up.  I used to cut myself on my legs and wish I had the strength to put the blade at my wrist and press just a little harder.  I remember thinking, just a little more pressure, and I could stop dealing with all of this.  I remember writing a suicide letter on Christmas Eve in 2009, and another one in March of 2010.

But in all of those times I never succeeded (I guess that's obvious but still).  I never was able to go through with it and . . . I take that now as a sign.  I don't want to die anymore, I really don't.

What I want is to get my life together and fight this shit until it's gone.

Good Things and Breakthroughs

Good things:

--Hastings called me today!  They called while I was in the shower and left a voicemail, which I haven't yet listened to.  But still!  I'm pretty relieved.  (Not necessarily thrilled for the actual going to work part though).
--Reconnecting with old friends.  One old friend in particular accepted my FB friends request today and I'm stoked about it!  We'll probably never be BFF's again but the less negativity I have in my life the better.
--I bought a pedometer that counts steps, calories, and measures distance.  Since I walk so much I think it'll be interesting to see those numbers.

Breakthroughs:
--I painted my toenails purple.  I'm not going to really get into why that's a breakthrough but let's just say that since I've been with Corey purple has ah had a negative connotation/association for me and I've steered clear of it.  But now my toes are a bright sparkly purple and I love it and it's staying.  Well, at least until I get bored and decide I want a new color.  (Between us Jerbs and I have like 100 different nail colors so yeah).
--I have started to feel a lot calmer and more relaxed about life in general.  I want to get into this more later but yeah.

Two Weeks

So it's now been two weeks since I've been in Flagstaff.

To be completely honest, I'm amazed at how well I'm doing.  I really did think I'd get up here and it would be break down after break down after break down . . . I thought it would be a total regression back to where I was before I'd even started treatment and all that.  But here I am, doing mostly fine.

I'm still sad.  My heart is still broken over what happened with Ex-Fiance and me.  I've had a few anxiety attacks over it since I've been here, and there have been a few nights that I've cried myself to sleep.  But for the most part I've been good.

I still miss Ex-Fiance.  He's on my mind every day and I still hope that we end up together, I really do.  But at the same time, I'm starting to feel glad to have this time for myself.  I've been mood charting and taking my medicine and thinking a lot about my life.  Some of it's scary but . . . it's nice at the same time.  Ultimately I think this is doing us both some good, and I am trying just to be patient.  To give us as long as we need.

Some things suck about being here.  I hate taking the bus with a passion!  I don't mind the actual walking or bus taking part, it's the amount of time it takes.  For example, tomorrow I have to go to the store for a few things and I know I'm not going to get anything else done.  Suuuuuuuuuucks.  

Also shitty is that Hastings STILL hasn't called me about my transfer.  I have to call them tomorrow and hopefully I still have a job.  This is starting to worry me.  But in the meantime I've applied for a few full time jobs at other places and hopefully I'll get one of them.  Because really, even if I'm still employed at Hastings, I need to look for something else anyway, because I NEED full time.  Or at least closer to full time than 15 hours a week.

But there are good things.  I woke up to a raging thunderstorm this morning and that was pretty excellent.  (The only thing that would have made it better was a cuddle buddy!)  The summer weather here is awesome.  And I feel like I can write here, so I've been working on that.  I think I've said it before, that even though I don't want to be in Flagstaff forever, I want to be somewhere similar.  And more than anything I want to be happy with Ex-Fiance in a place like this.  But that's probably for another post.

One big thing that's happened to me since I've been here is that I have . . . I don't know quite how to say it.  But basically I have found my faith.  I have found God.  I'll probably elaborate on it at some point in the future but for now I'll just say that I definitely am putting my faith in a higher power.  And it feels amazing.

Anyway.  I still need to work on my physical and mental health goals more.  Physical health, I need to get back into working out somehow, and I need to eat better (there were just so many restaurants I missed!)  Mental health I've been doing well with, I just need to get my labs done.  That's going to be a bit of a challenge.  Actually it'll probably be pretty easy I just HATE making phone calls and getting that set up will require several so.  Yeah.  And I need to find a counselor but that has to wait until I figure out my employment situation.

I did get to see Ex-Fiance today, when he was on his way back to Kingman from Chinle.  It was nice but it was also . . . I don't know.  Weird, I guess.  I'll elaborate on that more later.

For now, good night!  I think it's going to rain through the night which means good sleep for me!!

Help Is Out There

A few hours ago, just for the heck of it, I looked up counselors/therapists in Flagstaff.

My psychiatrist told me at my first visit, and has told me again at every visit since, that I should seek counseling/therapy in addition to my medications.  And I've never done it because . . . I don't know why, really.  But since I've made the decision to focus on getting better, I've known that I was going to have to find someone and commit to seeing them.  And that means finding someone who can do the type of therapy I need (DBT--dialectical behavioral therapy), someone who takes uninsured patients, and someone who is not insanely expensive.  It's a tall, tall order.

So like I said, tonight, I did a search online.  My hopes weren't too high but to my enormous surprise one of the first results that came up were for a LPC here in Flag who specializes in borderline personality disorder and the DBT method.  She also takes uninsured patients, and she has a sliding scale fee deal for those patients.

I was kind of mind blown.  I don't know if I'll be able to afford her, I don't know how long her wait list is, I don't know when I'll even be able to get in since I'm still waiting on job stuff, and I don't know if she'll be a good match for me.

But still, just KNOWING that someone like her is out there, just knowing that there's a person in this town who ix exactly what I need, made me feel incredible.  It was just this moment where I thought . . . maybe it is possible to get better after all.  It was a tremendous relief to me, a weight off my shoulders.

Sometimes it's the little things that help the most.

The Gym

I finally made it to the gym today.

Thanks to a misunderstanding on my part about the bus schedule, though, I ended up having to take the long way there.  So by the time I got to the gym I'd probably walked about 2 miles total.  And the Anytime Fitness here doesn't have just regular ellipticals, so I used an elliptical like machine.  So between the walking before hand, the different machine, and the elevation, I was only able to do 10 minutes.  Laaaaaaaaaaaame.

But better than nothing.  And honestly if I'd tried one of those machines 6 or 8 months ago I probably wouldn't have even been able to do those 10 minutes.  So it is some progress.

And I actually lost two pounds this past week!  (I weigh myself on Mondays).  I went from 182 to 180 so I'm pretty happy with that!

I just can't wait til I have a car so I can go to the gym whenever I feel like it again.  I'm crossing my fingers/praying/hoping like crazy that I get one of the F/T jobs I applied for, because then I could definitely afford a car.