Category Archives: Suicide

I am what I am and that’s all that I am

(Please please like me – Go Fish)

This post was written a couple weeks ago-ish…then I was busy and didn’t post it…and then the grief got so deep again that I kinda forgot about it. But better late than never, right? Also, a lyric stuck in my head right now is “I won’t take the world’s abuse; I won’t give up, I refuse.” And also, I just finished watching a youtube video and it ended with “you are not a failed version of normal.”

The title of this post has been my quote on twitter since I joined in 2013…and I still love it.

You know you are living in a world a bit differently than the stereotypical female when you are thrilled looking up a calorie count that it is a lot higher than you expected. I guess I should back up.

It seems based on my stats that there are quite a few new readers over here so I thought I’d do a quick review on some of the major events that have made me who I am. Super abbreviated, because I want this to be short and sweet, not like one of my marathon posts that ends up way longer than I even would have an attention span to read.

Hmmm, where to start? August 10, 2008 my family attended a new (to me) church for the first time (and stayed). It was really hard being taken away from everything I knew and my plans for my life. On top of that, 90% of my writing and art projects in middle school were swimming themed and that year for the first time I was no longer a swimmer…and for the first time I was struggling in school (although causation is hard to determine so that part might have been a result more than a cause). Those things together really took away everything I had to identify myself. I realized that year I was using self-injury as a coping mechanism as I struggled. It has been suggested that perhaps I have PTSD from that situation. I was never totally sold on that, but considering that even five plus years later it was an extremely painful experience to recall, I do credit it as a difficult experience in my life.

A few people in my life at the new church had suggested that I try out the free counseling at my school when I went to college. I intended to go once, say I did it, then be done, but once I got in I didn’t know how to get out. I was seeing a counselor who was so involved in the social realm that she really wasn’t comfortable and didn’t know what to do with someone like me. I was someone who defined a friend as someone I could say hi to maybe 50% of the time if we passed each other alone in the hallway – and I had very few friends. I didn’t do a lot of talking. Based on my records, it appears there was a question in her mind about selective mutism. I wouldn’t be overly surprised if someone made that label official for that time period. Let’s just say my best friend literally jumped out of her chair to celebrate one day when I said “I haven’t thought about that” in response to one of her questions. She was used to my usual communication of yes, no, I don’t know, and silence…and those first three responses were primarily reserved for my very closest friends after good prompting.

The next year I switched to someone who was a lot better match. I also started having some issues with excessive washing as a coping mechanism. At the beginning it wasn’t overly linked to germ fears, but eventually it was very firmly linked. In any case, I wanted to set rules to get rid of that problem. Every assignment I turned in for a while was bloody and my hands were bright red, but she didn’t think that rules was the right answer. Long story short, she eventually agreed that if I promised to be safe with it I could make rules (and it was wildly successful). That was probably a God-thing though I didn’t know it at the time, because the ability to figure things out on my own with little to no support was going to become important later. Oh, it is also important to note that second year everyone at my school interviews into third year and I was terrified and my counselor had asked me to think about what I might be interested in doing if I couldn’t be a pharmacist. It took months, but I thought maybe I’d like to be a social worker…but I wasn’t super thrilled with that, because all I’d ever wanted to be since early elementary school was a pharmacist.

I planned to transition to a different counselor the next year despite warnings from my current counselor, because she was going to be at a different site and I was overwhelmed at the prospect of going anywhere else and flat out refused to do it. I should have recognized that the counselor I insisted on switching to had already shown how lacking in trustworthiness she was and how unethical she was, but I really thought that I could deal with it because in all honesty what I needed most at that point was an accountability partner and someone I could see at a convenient time in a convenient location. She was emotionally abusive. She had no respect for her clients, and I really want to believe that because I was not a tattletale that I got it worse than other people, but I mean, she was teaching shame to keep people quiet. I could see that she needed love and as a result I worked really hard at loving her well and I guess I thought I could fix her, but I couldn’t. I could go into a laundry list of wrong-doings, but suffice it to say that this is not just me being a pansy, but that her conduct was completely inappropriate.

The next summer she sent me an email telling me how well she thought we worked together and how glad she was to work with me. Not too long after that an hour or so before we had a planned phone session she emailed to say that she wouldn’t be available for the session – I thought we were getting somewhere. Her usual modus operandi would have been to just not answer or to be at least 20 minutes late to the phone session. A bit after that she emailed again that we were done, and unlike what she usually did with those outbursts, she didn’t forbid me from talking with anyone else, but she refused to tell me why. Yes, she had deeply hurt me over and over and over, but I was still trying to fix her and at that point I don’t think I had quite registered that having an accountability partner wasn’t helpful when you are being abused by said partner. In a way that only makes sense when you are as upset and confused as I was, I acted out I think attempting to slow her down to make her think long enough to cool it.

I tried to call to apologize. That took a lot of courage for this girl who will drive across town to avoid a phone call. She hung up on me. A lot of my closest friends took her side and blocked me on facebook – super hurtful when that was one of my primary ways of interacting with my world. I was very upset and the message that I was not good enough and a worthless failure that she had been barraging me with during my time with her started feeling really true to me and to be honest, I am not really sure I would still be alive right now if I had been at school where there are metro trains near campus. Because she reported me to the behavior response team (of which she was a member) and recommended I was too stressed out to be in school, a whole series of new stressors came my way…I didn’t get the okay to come back to school until the day before classes started, and on my way in the first day I was stopped by a security guard who was convinced I wasn’t a student anymore. Not a great way to start the semester. Anyway, I think I am getting into too much minutiae, so back to the point, in exchange for staying in school I was forced to sign among other things that I wouldn’t tell anyone about anything related to what happened and I wouldn’t tell anyone that I couldn’t tell anyone – so I was pretty effectively silenced from any means of getting support for the chaos in my life and had to keep the mask of okay on to protect myself from unanswerable questions. I was still being abused by this counselor, and despite my finally cracking and telling my advocate a little of what was going on, my abuser was never punished and instead was given princess treatment.

Fast forward to January/February/March of this year. I am in the intense process of interviewing and when questions get asked about hardest moments or dealing with unfair situations or conflicts, guess what pops into my head. I have to work extra hard to not just freeze and deer in the headlights. I come up with other answers and push the tears away until I am alone. Then I fail to match in phase I despite everywhere telling me how amazing I am. I struggle with deep grief. On the outside I keep going. I apply in phase II and have an insane schedule of interviewing nearly every day for a little while including leaving at like 3:30 AM to drive to an interview and not getting back until past bedtime and still having interviews the rest of the week and trying to keep up in school. I failed to match again in phase II. I am back to square one with the grief. I am barely functioning. I have been praying every day just crying out to God to please just take me to forever home. I have no desire to remain on Earth. I am hardly sleeping. I am fighting to eat and drink. I lose a LOT of weight. I will admit that I came into this with a little extra weight on my body, but not nearly as much extra as I lost…In the week after Easter I gained 8 pounds (yay!!), but since then progress has been very slow…and sometimes backwards. I still have 10 pounds to gain to reach my goal weight and I think the closest I’ve gotten is 5 pounds away…hence sometimes looking up calories to spot check intake in hopes of getting this under control.

So, I tried the scramble (failed) and also started looking for non-residency jobs. I did finally get hired. The job isn’t exactly as expected and I am bored out of my mind a large majority of the time, but God is helping me through molecule by molecule, not universe by universe, and I really am healing.

So yeah, this is the uber-abbreviated version of my life…obviously leaves a lot out, but you can probably find a lot of the details going through the archives or asking if there is anything you really wanna know…hope this gives some useful background on who I am.

And for my long-time readers, thanks for bearing with me as I repeat a lot of what you already knew. Love y’all 🙂

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And there were times I cried myself to sleep at night only to wake up wishing I didn’t

(The Reason – Lacey/Flyleaf)

I read a blog post recently that I think corresponds really well with where I am right now. The gist of the post (since I can’t seem to find it again…) is that sometimes things happen in life and you are in the middle of a river, drowning. All you can do is hang on to a log floating in the river and hang on. It is not ideal, and it is tiring, but it is saving your life. Eventually, though, you need to realize that you can’t stay there forever. When you can see the waterfall in front of you it is no longer safe to keep holding on. You need to let go and get to the shore. So you try to let go and swim to shore. Sometimes you get a little bit away from your log but it is exhausting and scary and you can’t get to shore so you hold on again, but you are getting closer to the waterfall, and it isn’t safe to keep holding on. It is frustrating, and exhausting, and seems hopeless, but you have to try again to reach safety. There are times when you are not safe (not on the shore), but also not in acute danger (not holding onto the log). You are swimming. It is hard, but even though you aren’t safe, it is self-care that will eventually help you reach safety, hopefully before it is too late. I was drowning when I realized I was going to have to remain alive, but now I think I am ready to continue trying to swim for the shore. I’m not safe and I am certainly vulnerable while I am trying to reach safety, but I am not actively headed towards the waterfall, so that is positive.

 

After I went to bed very much alive on June 30th and woke up alive on July 1st, it was incredibly difficult to realize that the endpoint I had been living for over the past few months was gone just like everything else I had lost. It was a secondary loss that was incredibly painful and dunked me back under the waves of extreme pain. What little hope I had was pried from the death grip of my fingers. It is still very painful, and was certainly a setback in my emotional recovery from the deep grief I have been walking through, but you know what? I know that God is in charge and my opinion isn’t ultimately the one that matters. I have to continue to face each day knowing that chances are I will be facing this every day for a long time and will need to figure out how to be okay with that.

 

I know that I am strong and over time the pain may not completely disappear, but I really want to believe that over time it will fade to a point where life is not so difficult and the wound isn’t so raw. Maybe it is just the shear physical exhaustion and lack of sleep, but last night anyway I slept a lot better than I had the past few days, and while eating and drinking are definitely still hard, I have today at least been thinking about food at the correct times of day which is a helpful step in normalizing my eating. I have done a really good job of at least mostly maintaining my weight once I achieved my goal, but of course I also know that being completely responsible for myself in a few days versus sometimes having meals as a family a home where I just need to show up can greatly increase the level of difficulty of keeping myself fed somewhat appropriately.

 

I tried to go ride my bike or rollerblade or something to help get some fluids in, but I didn’t even step outside before I realized it was way too hot for that…and besides, I was already going to be breaking the rules I set for myself of drinking something before doing anything active. It is so hot outside 😦 Speaking of outside, I am still pretty sore, but externally I am healing really quickly…unless you know how well my skin heals and how long it has been since the injury, my back doesn’t really look bad anymore – just a little scraped up. I can now lean against things without pain and pick at the scabs without re-opening the cuts…sounds like a weird thing to comment on, but it is super helpful, because I will totally admit to being a skin-picker, so once I could reach my back without a lot of pain, it was a conscious effort to not pick at the scabs…

 

I should be studying…but that is still something that feels too hard, and I just want a break. I don’t have that long until the test though so I really need to work on that…

 

I am playing with the idea of a quick celebration trip if or when I pass the exams. A trip to Lake Superior is something that I have kinda daydreamed about for years but never very seriously considered because going on trips isn’t really who I am…my idea of an adventure is sometimes as simple as going the opposite direction that I usually go around the block. I also have a lot of friends that don’t live near me that it might be fun to go see…Considering that I am a single female who would be traveling alone, IDK how safe Lake Superior would be, and since I am a people-lover, it might make more sense to go somewhere with people and make it a separate mission to find a lake as beautiful and clean as Lake Superior that is closer to home to fall in love with…

 

I usually celebrate with food, but as a totally new chapter in my life has been unfolding this year, I thought maybe it was time to think about something crazy that I usually would never consider. The loss I experienced is still an open wound and I figure either this could turn into something really cool to shock my mind out of the pain even if only for a little while, or it could be a really stupid idea where the stress and new experience causes a setback, but I figure doing SOMETHING is better than doing NOTHING and since I am viewing a trip as something that would be a huge achievement of stepping outside my comfort zone for me, I think it would probably tend towards the former feeling like an accomplishment…of course, if I went somewhere and the trip was a fail, it could also be another failure, but I’m choosing to think about how it could totally be an esteem-building success. Like toll roads. That was terrifying, but when it was over I was SO proud of myself! I did it!!

do you see a rescue or a deeper kind of hurt…just when you’ve lost the will to live

(drifting – plumb)

 

Life is still really hard. I still want to be done with life. I have been telling God what day I thought would be best for me to die, but on the somewhat positive side, I have also resigned myself to the fact that God is most likely going to say no. And I will have to deal with that. It is hard when my whole life I have been working towards one thing and that one thing is gone. Everyone told me I wasn’t good enough and it feels so much like they were right. I realized to have any chance I probably have to wait at least two years before re-applying, because besides not being at all in my personality, it probably isn’t kosher to be like hey, I know I started training like two days ago, but would you like to be my reference for the job I actually wanted more than this? That was a really hard realization, but it also really helped because it put a timeline on getting back to my dreams.

 

I recently read this article about helping people in crisis. The author’s explanation of each concept wasn’t necessarily exactly in alignment with my opinions (though some weren’t far off at all), but the concepts themselves seemed pretty good.

 

  1. Stay calm – so true, if I am already in crisis, I don’t need you to add drama to my life. I don’t need you to make life more difficult. I need someone to be an anchor in the storm. That doesn’t mean you don’t show emotion (also not necessarily good) but that you don’t freak out and make this about you rather than about me.
  2. Understand – no one (probably) wants to feel bad, but when we do it can feel very isolating. Grief takes a lot of energy that makes it hard to have anything left to do anything but survive. Crisis makes us less good friends as the primary focus is on survival. When it feels like no one gets it, especially when for a reason that feels shameful, I feel that much more alone. Taking a minute to listen and try to understand is a huge gift to me.
  3.  Touch them (if they’re okay with it) – I love hugs and stuff. In most situations, it makes me feel safe. It is a good way to help me feel less alone. IDK about this for everyone though since I know some people hate being touched.
  4.  Stay with them – grief is lonely and isolating. It is super awesome to be willing to come into my life and try to help me, but in my story of abuse and rejection, it isn’t just the loneliness and isolation that return when you leave again. Although sometimes I am so desperate for help that I want any possible thing I can get, but most of the time I feel like it might be better to have no one at all than people who leave again…but at the same time I know I don’t really want that, because I really need people even if they aren’t always exactly what I need. I know that studies show that support tends to last about a month and at most 3 months, but grief or other crises tend to last at least a year. That is a minimum of 9 months of isolation while the pain is still very raw and very intensely painful. I just need more hugs sometimes…or just a quick text hi. I finally figured out that was something that would help but then I never actually completely followed through on making sure it happened…I asked…a couple times…and then I ran out of energy to devote to a task that wasn’t as directly survival based.
  5.  Ask why they haven’t – so this is referring to why they haven’t hurt themselves in response to the negative emotion. While I am not sure how helpful this would be to me, I think it is a good question to ask to gauge safety. On a smaller level, eating and drinking was SO hard at first and such a chore (for that matter, even now sometimes I am okay in that arena and sometimes I am packing goldfish and skittles in my lunchbox and calling it a success that I am eating something even when half of that pathetically non-balanced lunch comes back home with me), but almost every day I tried really hard to get three meals into my mouth. Why didn’t I just do what was easiest and just not even try? Mostly because that might worry people and draw attention to me, and I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself and I didn’t want to hurt anyone. So, yeah, I am a major people-pleaser. I am pretty much always okay, especially when I am not. It is good when people can understand this and see through my mask to see that just because I am smiling and laughing instead of crying at the moment doesn’t necessarily mean I am not still fighting really hard just to make it through every day, and it is also good to realize that because of that, when I am in crisis, I might be a lot more sensitive to the perception of letting people down, so recognition is huge if I am doing something right. On a bigger scale, why have I not killed myself even though I want so badly to not be alive? Because I strongly believe that life and death are in God’s hands, and my religious beliefs tell me it is wrong to hurt yourself in any way. This probably makes me a lot safer, but also means there should be a big red flag going up if my faith becomes less important to me…luckily even when I couldn’t believe God cared or was even good, my faith was still super important to me.
  6.  Make a plan – consistency, structure, routine, and predictability really help me in life, and even more so in grief. Helping me know what to expect is really helpful. Waiting to offer something to me until you are pretty sure you can make it happen is awesome so the change in plans later doesn’t crush me. Remember that what seems small to you can be a lot bigger when it is the one thing that I am counting on to help me through the day, and when a minute is an eternity, the idea of a generic ‘maybe later’ is a forever that doesn’t even register on the time scale.

 

 

Moderately unrelated, but I also read this post recently where this mom claims she did a study and found out that she is invisible. Her logic is that she intentionally only wore one earring every day for six months and no one said anything…ummm…dude….what an idiot. First, if anything you proved that the earring, not yourself was invisible. Second, people are generally paying attention to YOU, not analyzing your attire. Third, your ears are on opposite sides of your head so depending on how good of eye contact you are using they might have no way of knowing that one of these things is not like the others. Fourth, people are generally respectful and mind their own business. Why should they point out that your appearance is less than perfect? And especially by the end of the six months if they had noticed they probably figured you liked it that way…yep, people be dumb…but using that logic, then I know that I am also invisible. I wore a shirt with a nice oxycodone stain on it a few days ago and no one said anything…I don’t know what bright drug manufacturer decided that oxycodone should be bright red, but I do know that whenever I spill it, particularly when I spill it on myself I do not appreciate the color…it stains…on the positive side, I mean, my shirt wouldn’t have been stained if I hadn’t caught the bottle that I lost my grip on. Because I did grab it, I only lost like a mL of oxycodone. I lost it all over my shirt and the counter, but at least I didn’t lose almost the entire bottle on the floor…

You remind me of a cigarette…you make it harder for me to breathe

(Jekyll and Hyde—Plumb)

I have therapeutics tomorrow so this is going to be another brain dump of a post…

What is life like on campus? Well, sometimes I am doing pretty well and maybe not thriving but definitely doing more than surviving…and other times I am standing just outside the door holding a notebook and trying to force myself to take the next few steps to hand the notebook to the person who needs it and wishing I could just turn invisible and melt right into the brick wall…which then leads to a flurry of decision making trying to decide what to do next for best chances at both short and long term success…but each day is a new day and I get new chances to try again. That was then and this is now.

Similarly, although my goal in life despite people trying to dissuade me, is still to be just like everyone else…which usually is not a big deal, because I know I am not actually everyone else and can adjust accordingly…but yesterday we were doing yoga at school and I adjusted as much as I could without making it obvious that I was accommodating myself, but it was not very possible to blend in and support all my weight on my left side…which meant that by the end my right ankle was on fire and my right shoulder wasn’t doing a lot better. yeah, I may be right handed, but I am left-everything-elsed…and I used to be pretty close to ambidextrous, so I mean I probably could have been left-everythinged if I really had wanted to when I was little. And that would be a lesson learned that fitting in is not the most important thing in the world.

This morning is going to be the very best day of my whole entire life so far!! Inclusion is my favoritest thing in the whole world!! I haven’t proctored since the day I did it barefoot and then after proctoring worked the front desk. I miss working the front desk, and I don’t get to do that today, but I do get to proctor which reminds me of that day. And after that the real excitement starts…I am so so excited…I am way too much of a rules follower to run my hands along the walls even though I want to, but I love that I could because I didn’t technically say I would not pass go, not collect one million dollars…I probably shouldn’t use that analogy, because that is about not collecting extra rewards when going to jail in Monopoly and even though there are some pretty awesome rewards inherent in going to jail in real life, there really aren’t in Monopoly, and also I am not going to jail…and the fact that going to jail also means that you are probs going to never going to be able to easily find a new job or housing again, the rewards are probs not worth it unless you plan on living out a life sentence in which case I could totally understand the security of good food prepared every day and no rent to pay and getting to the top of medical care lists automatically and getting that for free…what’s not to want about that?! We incentivize going to jail quite a lot…LOL…but I am not going to jail, just to my happy place…and I am very happy…probably happier than I would be going to jail anyway, because IDK if you can wear shorts in jail because all the pictures have people wearing winter pajama pants.

I was never on the every single week list either for proctoring or for working the front desk, but that front desk thing worked out really well in my favor because everyone knew I was really quiet and recognized that I didn’t usually work the front desk which meant that instead of asking me to call IT, people would tell me they were going to call IT, which was awesome, because at the time, having to call IT might have been the end of my volunteering my time to the front desk…yeah, I was comfortable with everything else, but making calls was not my forte. Proctoring is kind of take it or leave it for me. I like being on the emergency list, but aside from helping out when it is critical, proctoring just isn’t that exciting or rewarding for me.

Why is it that it is when I am re-watching my favorite videos (like talking to Siri about suicide) that everyone wants to talk to me…hashtag awkward…I feel like I am constantly stopping my video so people don’t get the wrong ideas…but seriously Summer Beretsky Bukeavich has a really awesome video series on talking to Siri about suicide and it is hilarious and I have been re-watching it for years…she also has Zerby the parrotlet videos, but those get old really fast…

When I was at Panera yesterday at like 6am, there were a bunch of girls there who were super obnoxious…I waited in line for 30 minutes because “can we have salad” “can we have soup” “I don’t know what I want.” They apologized when they finally finished ordering, but oh my…those girls were driving me crazy…one of them was going on and on about how she was in trouble for being late too much and it wasn’t such a big deal because she was late like every day for a month but it was never her fault…(for example, she was at Panera, so she was only a block away an hour in advance so it was basically like she was there…)

Today I think I figured out why I have wanted to scratch my eyes out despite the fact that they really didn’t look like pink-eye…hmm…probably something to do with the fact that there is a yellow haze of pollen that I have to wash off of the windshield of my car in the morning which means it is probably in the air and I just can’t see it without a surface to collect it…

So my water bottle dropped and I was sad to see it was not Wiggle Worm-proof…but when I picked it up I discovered that actually it was Wiggle Worm-proof. Despite having a hole I could shove my key into, it still holds water…it’s not that I abuse my things…the problem is more that tutoring was supposed to end at 8:30, and it didn’t, and I was having trouble leaving. So I was out too late, and by the point I was walking to my apartment, my awareness, coordination, and memory were lacking…sometimes I drop things because I just forget I am holding them and let go (that happens a lot to my poor phone). In this case, I remembered I was holding the water bottle, but wasn’t holding it very well due to poor coordination at night, and didn’t have sufficient awareness to realize it was falling until I heard it hit the ground…I also picked up the trash the mailman leaves in my mailbox three times on the way up the stairs…sleep is a wonderful thing that I need every single night, preferably at or before 9pm…

20160419_215706

Not a Doubt Check it Out Better Believe that God Rocks

(God Rocks Theme)

But it is hard to believe that God Rocks when I just finished an exam that I know I didn’t do well on in a class I really needed to pull up my grade in. Even though on the outside I claim that it is fine because D’s get degrees and because I know exactly what my problem is and it is definitely not intelligence or effort, on the inside it really bothers me. Right now is not a good time for me to talk about that though, so we’ll move on to a random assortment of all the things my brain wants to write about after telling myself no more blogging until after the exam.

Yesterday for the first time, I got lost getting from the other school I have a pointless class at back to my actual school…I figured it was no big deal that I had no clue where I was because I still was oriented enough at that point to know what general direction I needed to go to get back to school and assumed that eventually I would end up somewhere I recognized…yeah, unfortunately the random road I chose to turn on actually very quickly became an entrance ramp to the freeway…exactly what I didn’t need when I just wanted to get back to school to study and was frustrated about even having to go to the other class…On the positive side, I forced my way over to the exit lane for the very next exit and ended up somewhere I could figure out getting back to school from…I was frustrated, but Nutella makes everything better.

(20160316_174512

This week I stopped hiding how much it hurts to see this one thing…sometimes the energy required to hide my reaction just isn’t worth it…it’s not like it is a surprise that certain things will upset me…

Sometimes you have to laugh about the little things so you don’t cry about the big things. A few days ago I literally LOL’ed, because apparently the homepage of my blog came up for someone’s google search of “after suicide picture.” I’m not really sure what that person might have been looking for, but I am fairly certain that my blog wasn’t it…

I have a very loose definition of “emergency.” See, there is at least 2oz of skittles in my car at all times for emergency use only—that is, not to be used just ’cause I want it…However, with no defined criteria for what constitutes an emergency, the utilization review would be a bit interesting to interpret…So, last week when I was quite obviously crashing, struggling to breathe because I was crying so hard, and attempting to drive home, barely able to see, that apparently did not constitute an emergency. Not having any candy whatsoever on Saturday counted as an emergency because it would have been too easy to fall back in if anything happened. Tuesday? Well, I am not exactly sure what the emergency was besides I thought there was free cake and sunscreen in the res hall and there wasn’t…which was kind of a problem that I defined that as an emergency, because inside my head I was done for the day at 4:20 and could go home if I was struggling…but outside my head, I actually am not done until 8:30, and remembering what was going on the week of the last T4 exam was pushing me into the danger zone where I really actually might need the bag of skittles that was inhaled three hours ago…so we were down to just prayer that I’d make it…spoiler alert: I did.

I created a new pinterest board: The Healing Path…I am kind of biased, because everything about it is all mine (Except the information from the book obviously), but I think it is pretty awesome…

So yeah, last weekend I decided I was tired of cleaning chocolate off of my sheets so I needed a new place to study besides my bed (or the floor, because my knees get sore too fast on the floor)…it is no good when you notice what you think might be a new chocolate crumb rubbed into the sheet and attempt to lick it off only to discover that it is actually smeared blood from either my fingers or my face where I picked away too much skin that will have to wait another week for laundry day…priorities…I have them…see, chocolate smells weird at night when I’m sleeping, but blood doesn’t…

So I started out sitting in my chair the way it is intended to be used…but being on wheels was super distracting for actual studying…so I took the ball off of the base, put a beach towel on the floor, and used my big red ball to support my weight in frog position…besides not being able to have so much paper at eye level or spread out within reach around me, it is a really great way to study…it is a good thing that I don’t have a blue ball, because anatomy has made the phrase “big blue ball” sound really dirty…let’s just say there is a giant reproductive model that is blue that everyone loves…and refers to as the big blue ball…

I took a picture, but I have no idea where I put it…

Maybe I’m like the girl shrek who turned green when she got married…’cause I might be half frog…

Sometimes my mouth is like “hey would you like me to stay” when my brain is screaming “please give me an excuse not to go back to school today.” So even if my grades are lousy, I am not spending extra time here to remediate, because I am reaching that point where every single day is a conscious choice about whether it is really worth it to keep going…even though someone did say I should set up an advising appointment to discuss class registration…I sent an email back that I wasn’t planning on registering unless I failed something and would set up an appointment when that happened…

As much as I hate daylight savings and givings, it is super awesome that bedtime comes an hour earlier, because I feel so much more alive…on the negative side, having a boatload of energy and no good way to use it up is not so awesome for my ability to study…and bringing my ball to school is not an everyday thing…

A word to the wise: check that your cup is empty before pouring in milk…’cause vanilla milk + the sprite already in your cup = no Bueno…not that I accidentally did that or anything…

…somewhat surprisingly, somehow Thursday of last week did not repeat itself at all this week! I was close to crashing on Wednesday, but I didn’t!! (Well, crashing emotionally that is, I was obviously crashing physically, because my lap was vibrating the entire drive home and it wasn’t until I got out of the car that I realized that my alarm was going off…my alarm was not *just* vibrating…I’m not going to re-hash last week since that is what I wrote about last week and I don’t think I need/want extra processing now, but I am so happy to not have experienced it again despite the obvious stressor of another therapeutics exam…My guess would be that it has something to do with taking (in my words) far too many micro-breaks and discovering bouncing on my ball instead of staring at the wall when the energy overflows at my apartment, but either way, not having breakdown or flare at all is wonderful, especially since I also even attempted exposure on Monday (I say attempted, because I didn’t do it the way that was in my head that was a lot more intense, because I wanted to protect myself from crashing in a setting in which it would be hard to escape and in general from crashing again prior to said therapeutics exam…but I probably shouldn’t say attempted, because I actually did it. I worked hard on that, and every little bit counts.

Plus, it was marginally successful since I wore my glasses in EBM on Tuesday and didn’t just let them fall off my face when they started sliding…

…And I have a list of like fifty-billionty teachers I should have emailed over the course of the last week (slight exaggeration) that I didn’t because I felt too busy to put words together, and so I should at least start that with the minutes I have left prior to my next class…

Things aren’t necessarily always what they appear to be

(You can’t judge a book by it’s cover—Thomas & Friends)
From the outside it looks like I’m organized and on top of things…
  1. I have color coordinated folders and notebooks paired up together in my backpack for each class.
  2. I have multiples of almost everything.
  3. Even the homework and reading that won’t be graded is completed on time 99.9% of the time.
  4. I have a bubbly personality and cannot sit still to save my life (well, okay, I can, but it means I will be bouncing off the walls close to literally later)…
But on the inside, things are falling apart.

It’s kind of like those memes that go “I look like I am confident and have things figured out, but deep down, on the inside, where no one sees…” and they end with something like “my socks don’t match” or “my underwear say the wrong day of the week.” At the end of the day the problems I face are marginal relative to battles I could be facing, but that doesn’t make them any less real. It all matters.

  1. Behind the mask of an organized backpack you don’t see the elementary school supply list telling you what color notebook and folder each subject should be that most people ignored but my parents followed, so you don’t see how through the end of high school my mom made sure everyone had folders with the corresponding color notebook even if that meant having piles of green notebooks everywhere because the six packs of notebooks came with a green but the store didn’t sell green folders that year. You don’t see that I learned how to be organized in that one aspect but haven’t really learned how to organize any further than that. Sure, I “re-organize” my apartment way more than it needs, but that really primarily means deciding everything should be taken out then put back in again and my freezer still is the storage zone for the plastic bags and the Kleenexes and toothpaste share space and I washed a bottle of febreeze last week because my idea of “sort” the laundry is closer to split the pile in half and pick up an armful and throw it in the wash…looking for that really important paper? Check under the pile of pieces of church bulletins…
  2. Behind the act of preparedness of the extras you don’t see that this started as having enough to share, but became a problem of not taking out the broken pens so of the 30 pens in my bag maybe 3 actually work…and when one eraser or set of headphones or calculator gets left behind somewhere I have another to replace it.
  3. Behind the cape of doing everything you don’t see the girl trying to outrun her fears. Everyone told me I can’t so I need to prove I can. You don’t see the girl terrified that after all this work everything else will end the way it seems things usually do: with her dreams being crushed. More than that, you don’t see the girl who forgot third year to do a quiz on time, got lucky and had the teacher re-open it because so many other people also forgot, and vowed it would never happen again…only as a fifth year to forget to turn in an assignment worth 5% of her grade in a class she was already working so hard to try to pull up. The syllabus says zero points for assignments that miss deadline. There went this girl’s chance of a decent grade unless TAMO (then a miracle occurred) and she got 99% on every single thing the rest of the semester…or somehow the teacher felt bad and accepted the assignment anyway…
  4. Behind the smile and energy the inability to sit still and shut up is definitely fueled in part by nervous energy at least SOME of the time…and the joy…well, it is genuine, but it co-exists with frustration and sadness…in asking why I want to go home with a charged computer when I know it probably won’t even leave my backpack, the answer I gave myself was “because on the off chance I decide to kill myself I want spellcheck for my suicide note so someone has half a chance at figuring out what I am trying to write. I want people to hear it from me first.” This is probably more about feeling like I face a lot of barriers in life and would be thrilled to no longer be the last one picked for the team really just at the whims of everyone else. I promise I am not suicidal, and besides, we all know I don’t make decisions so I am 99.999% sure I’d ask someone if I should before I tried anything stupid…so even if I was suicidal I’d be at super low chance of actually doing anything dumb…LOL…all that to say, I have much more than a tenuous hold on the serious side of life. I am very much aware that life isn’t all ponies and rainbows…speaking of life, I know I have shared this before, but we watched a horrible video that was trying to justify murder yesterday in one of my classes…so NOT okay. First, do no harm. It was never intended for us to decide when that last breath is breathed. I don’t have to agree with things other people say, but I always have the right to express my disagreement politely, and re-sharing this post is my way of politely saying that I don’t care who you are killing. Murder is wrong whether it is your enemy, yourself, or your patient.

Carry Fire in My Heart

(Echo–Blanca)

4 Things that make me mad:

  • People that think that vaccinations are optional.
    • Not a single study has shown at all that vaccines were related to autism
    • Lots of studies have shown that vaccines are definitely not related to autism
    • Even if vaccines caused autism 100% of the time, here are your choices:
      • child with autism
      • dead child who also probably caused the death of some other people as collateral in the process
    • Spreading out vaccines only increases the amount of time your child is not protected from disease and also increases the amount of time your child can serve as a good vector for the transmission of disease…thank you morons for perpetuating diseases that we could have eradicated years ago if you would just turn your brain on once in a while…oh, I’m sorry, did you manage to realize I was insulting you? Well, you kind of deserve it for putting the rest of the world at risk by refusing to vaccinate your children in a timely manner.
  • People who are extremely rude and entitled…although I was never interested in retail pharmacy in the first place, my experience with retail pharmacy lets me know that a huge perk for clinical pharmacy is going to be not dealing as much with rude and entitled people…the thing with working in a pharmacy for kids though is that in order to help kids you have to figure out how to deal with their parents…and if the parents are that rude and entitled to a stranger, I can’t help but feel sorry for what the kid might be experiencing at home or be learning from that parent…
  • Any situation in which the person who was hurt is the one getting punished while the person doing the hurting gets to play the victim role
  • Abuse of anyone happening in secret (or, I suppose, not in secret)…but it’s even worse when it is happening to a child. It is NEVER okay to intentionally hurt someone, but it is even worse when you do it to a child. No one deserves it, but really? You are going to hurt a cute adorable child?

4 Things that make me really thankful

Each day she goes on is a day that she’s BRAVE

(Hero–Superchick)

Today is National Survivors of Suicide Day. I do not have the time to write as much as I’d like to about this, so please read these two articles written by other bloggers. Today is not really so much about preventing future suicides–although it kind of is, because every day is a good day to do that, but today’s focus is on supporting those left behind (also something we should always be doing, but having a specific day to focus on it is probably a good reminder).

Healing Together

We Want Casseroles

congress hand off pain

More people die every year from suicide than in car accidents. Why do we spend so much time talking about driving safely and then shame those left behind after suicide?
More people die every year from suicide than in car accidents. Why do we spend so much time talking about driving safely and then shame those left behind after suicide?
It takes a lot of courage to end one's own life. They have walked a hard road and couldn't see any other way out.
It takes a lot of courage to end one’s own life. They have walked a hard road and couldn’t see any other way out.
The math doesn't work out, but please remember that every life lost impacts many others.
The math doesn’t work out, but please remember that every life lost impacts many others.
It isn't beautiful. It isn't desirable...but it happens...and ignoring it won't make it go away.
It isn’t beautiful. It isn’t desirable…but it happens…and ignoring it won’t make it go away.

awareness

Spread the word!