Warning: I’m a writer with an Uber acid trip imagination with years of pent up thoughts and emotions. Anything you say or do is subject to material for my storytelling. And don’t think that I won’t ever remember. The inside of my brain is like hoarders loaded with memories, random facts, and god knows what that may be spawned from the primordial ooze that is my imagination.
This is going to be a different type of entry. It’s the sort of entry I never thought I’d ever have to write. So something happened yesterday. To save myself the trouble of having to type out all the words, refer to the screenshot below of a Facebook status post I made yesterday.
There’s the whole story. I feel disgusted, insulted, and pissed off. I can’t believe that I’d ever be on the receiving end of this bullshit. He says he’s sorry but I’m not feeling anything sincere from it. He actually thought that video was going to get a rise out of me? Give me a fucking break…
I’ve sent a report to Facebook help center, I’ve taken a screenshot of my facebook post from yesterday, I’ve told my friends about this, I am not keeping quiet about it.
I tried to be cool. I tried to be classy by not even calling out his name, but fuck all that!! I am not Jesus, I am not perfect, I will not show mercy or forgiveness. I will tell my story. You cannot silence me.
That’s it. I’m done.
I started writing here in WordPress a year ago when I was in a dark place. I had been keeping so much inside of me that I felt like I would be driven insane. I had little hope at that time, believing that it was the end of everything for me. I thought by writing everything here that it would help me come out of that dark place, renew my sense of hope, and finally make sense of everything.
All of you readers who’ve been subscribed from the very beginning know everything that’s lead to to this point. This blog became an escape for me that proved to be one of many great tools needed to fight back against my “Nightmare Syndrome”, slaying the inner demons, and get me back on the right path.
In my first entry I had written, “By this time next year everything will be worth it”. I was sort of hoping that I’d have completed writing a novel or found the Dream Guy that I had written about. I thought that my last year in Boone would be what I had envisioned through the rose colored glasses. Those of you who’ve been reading and paying attention know that that didn’t happen.
But it was worth it. This is the recovery that’s going to stick. It’s thanks to the medication that I’ve gotten a taste of what life can be without having anxieties spiking at the smallest things, hearing that voice that always distorted my thoughts, or feeling like I am in a constant battle against the inner demons that I’ve always called “Nightmares”.
I thought about my “battles” yesterday. I thought about how great I was feeling yesterday both mentally and physically. My body used to always feel worn down or beaten up. I was always exhausted. But now there’s none of that. The inside of my mind is so much quieter now. I have a lot more energy to burn now and able to shift focus on other things now there’s nothing to fight against.
It’s been like eight weeks of medication and powering through the side effects. I’m feeling like my real self again, but it feels so foreign to me. Even though a depression free life is something I’ve wanted for the longest time. I feel like I’m re-learning everything.
I have my life back. But are my battles over? Truly over? It feels so surreal to me.
Maybe the battles are over, but the work needed to make recovery a success isn’t. Having no more inner demons to fight doesn’t mean that I have nothing to write about anymore. But it does mean that I’m finally going to have the chance to write about something that doesn’t revolve around my personal hell.
I want to write about other things that I enjoy. Movies, anime, video games, food, what a huge nerd I am about WWE or Power Rangers, ANYTHING! Plus I have so many other goals that I want to accomplish. Finishing college is a big accomplishment. Even if I didn’t have the smoothest ride through it that experience is still mine. I can cross that off my list of “Dreams to Realize”.
I’m making my intentions clear for all to know. Just like I did with the first entry I ever wrote. Now…I take action.
Until next time readers.
As of Monday I’ve got my refill of Zoloft and have moved on to a higher dosage. I’m on 75 mg. By the end of this week I will be on 100 mg. I feel like I have to adjust to it all over again.
I took my first pill at like 8:30 AM. Earliest I’ve taken it. Then when I made my exist from class two whole hours later I felt like I needed a 12 hour nap. I slept like a Snorlax. Had to eat like one too to get some strength back. I’m pretty sure I’ve experienced my first Zoloft induced vivid dream last night.
I felt the druggy effect of the Zoloft in my dreams. I kept feeling weak and my legs were like jelly. I didn’t realize it was a dream though. The imagery from last night is becoming more blurry so I can’t entirely remember what I saw. But I know there was some pretty dark stuff.
But I knew what I signed up for when I agreed to medication. I might feel drowsy sometimes and may have to deal with weird dreams in the future, but at least I don’t want to hurt or kill myself anymore. I don’t see so much darkness and ugly in the world anymore either.
I’ve managed to make quite a few new friends. I’ve been chatting them up like crazy. I joined these Facebook groups for gay geeks like myself. I forgot what a joy it was to talk about stuff like anime, pro-wrestling, and Power Rangers was like with someone who shares the same passion for it that I do. The walls that obstructed me from socializing with people are crumbling. Part of that is because of the Zoloft and the other part is my own desire. Whatever was holding me back before isn’t there anymore. I feel as if I’m free.
Over the last few days I’ve been mulling over what to do with myself. What to do once I’ve put App State behind me is what I mean. Originally I wanted to just focus on my writing and work on getting a novel published. But now I believe I have a new goal.
I want to help with mental health problems like myself. No one should ever have to go through anything like that on their own. No one should ever have to feel like they’re always on their own. I’m going to look into volunteer work with organizations. I’ll become an advocate.
I might be feeling better, but that doesn’t suggest that I get to forget all my experiences. I should be able to use what I’ve learned to do some good in the world and help others.
That’s really all I want to say for now.
Take care everybody.
Originally I was gonna title this “Pillhead” but I figured that’d be insensitive.
So Monday was D-Day for me. “D” as in “Doctor’s Appointment. I’ve been given my prescription for Zoloft. It’s only day three and I’ve already come to the conclusion that it kinda sucks. I’m already beginning to feel the side effects.
Can’t say that it comes as a shock. Doc did sit me through the side effects and instructions on how to properly use it. I knew this was a risk when I made the decision to go through with it. There’s no backing out now. I’m just surprised that it’s happening so soon. I’m only three days
I’ve already tried to white knuckle things for almost ten years now and now I can’t do that anymore. My knuckles are completely FUBAR. If I were a character in one of my whacky stories I would be bloodied all over and barely able to stand or hold anything. I’d be bed ridden, bandaged, and require constant nursing and monitoring.
Technically I’m already at that last part. My family is worried. My mom, my cousins, my aunties, everyone. My mom told me so during one of our last phone calls.
I’m only experiencing drowsiness so far. I felt it hit me in the middle of the day. I was able to power through it.
This helped. I’ve been coloring a lot of pages lately. It’s mindfulness in practice. It allows me to keep the depression at bay. Just like my WWE game. Speaking of..
Booyah. Zoloft isn’t dulling my creative spark. Haha!!
This is the first time I’ve ever been medicated. It’s an adjustment. I will adapt. Drowsiness is the least of my worries as far as side-effects go. I will get past this. I am going to recover and I’m going to turn things around. Just like I’ve always had. Around this same time last year I was in a dark hole. I was able to crawl out of it that time. I can do the same thing again. I have to. My life is at stake here.
My primary goal is to get better. Everything else pales in comparison. I’m doing what is necessary to fight my depression and get better. I have to put myself first before everything else. When I think like that nothing else matters.
I can’t be afraid go through with anything just because of stupid side effects. I’m not suggesting I’m gonna power through all of them. No. If things get seriously bad I’ll call for help.
Yeah this drowsiness sucks. Feeling the pill get stuck at my throat like a rock pebble is irritating when it doesn’t go down with my food. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid of experiencing other side effects. I’m just now wrapping my mind around all of this. I’m accepting the reality of it all. I’m not resisting anything anymore.
That’s all I got for now. I’m drowsy as fuck.
So Easter break has finished up. The dreaded G-Day is rapidly approaching. Oh yeah and I just finished a session with a counselor and there’s the doctor’s appointment on Monday to discuss medication.
My head has been in a whirlwind and I feel like I hurt everywhere. But I’m still finding ways to continue going forward.
I suffer from a lot of cognitive distortions. But I also hold on to a lot of misconceived notions of how things are supposed to be.
I came to App State wearing rose-colored glasses. Even though when I got my acceptance letter things weren’t that great. My experience here has been very mixed. To be perfectly honest it feels like the negative has outweighed the positive during my time here. But even until now I held on to this idea of how things are supposed to turn out or what my life is supposed to be like right now.
I should’ve been done with the college experience a long time ago. I should’ve met and married someone by now. I should already be world travelled. I should already be a best-selling author or at least have some cushy job. I should have all my dreams become a reality by now.
I’m only now remembering the first entry that I wrote last year. I started off by saying, “Well…that didn’t go as planned”.
There was a point where it looked like things were going to turn out exactly to my design. But somewhere along the way everything changed. I have no idea what caused this change. I don’t even know when, but it happened.
“Rewriting the narrative” was the theme of my latest session. It came up when we talked about graduation day and what it’s supposed to be about. Again, I said, “It feels more like survival. Not real success”.
I had a vision in my mind’s eye about the things that I wanted to happen. Things I was willing to work to make happen. But then they didn’t. All the negatives kept outweighing the positive and sapped away all energy that I could’ve poured in for effort.
Success in my mind’s eye meant that I would have plenty of things to brag about just like dumbass jug headed Mike Garrison. It meant being on the honor, being a straight A student, having jobs lined up, having the chance to study abroad, and having accumulated positive memories of college experience complete with adventure, laughter, friendships, and wild rabbit sex on days that end with “Y”.
Success in the real world after college is supposed to mean landing a dream job, paying off student debt and bills with relative ease, home ownership, raising a family, having a 9 to 5 job without any mental meltdowns or wanting to kill yourself, being a normal, productive, tax paying member of society who doesn’t have monsters and cosmic battles in his head on a daily basis. Where evil keeps winning, might I add. My place is a dangerous place to be these days.
I realized today that I have to let go what things are supposed to be like in my mind. I have to really let go. I want to keep believing that I have a fairy tale life ahead of me. I want to believe that I’ll find my “something better than this”. But in the mean time I have to accept the hard reality of some things. And I need change my idea of what success is for me. People that are similar to me are welcome to agree or disagree, but here I go.
-Success is a life of better mental health.
-Success is choosing to live even on days where you feel like dying.
-Success is putting forth effort in everything you do even when you feel like quitting.
-Success is pushing forward when your mind is in a whirlwind and you feel hurt everywhere.
-Success is collecting things and moments of beauty that bring light to a world that is filled with darkness, ugliness, and madness.
-Success is having people in your life that care about you. A lover, family, or close friend, human or animal.
-Success is being comfortable with yourself and having confidence in your skills, whatever they might be.
-Success is surviving your worst nightmares and living to tell the story about it.
-Success is being happy with you are and what you have going for yourself in life.
That’s all I’ve got for now. Maybe I’ll add to the list later. Until then, later days.
It’s been a minute since I’ve last updated. This post is merely proof that I’m still alive. Also it’s an excuse to show this beautiful pro wrestler I completed with a new outfit.
Everything that’s happened to me before, everything that’s happening to me now, this is the fate I want so desperately to re-write. It’s why I took on the name “Pen” over my given name “Alex”.
I’m going to get better. I’m going to conquer my worse nightmares. I’m going to finally be happy. I’m going to live. I’m going to make up for all the times I’ve felt sad and made my loved ones worry about me. I’m going to give life everything I got without pulling anymore punches.
I will turn my pain into power and I will create the life I want. And I will get what I want through any means necessary.