The Hits Keep Coming.

So breaking news….I was a complete emotional wreck yesterday. My anxieties were spiking up again. It was worse than what happened earlier in the week. The only  difference this time around is that I made use of the cognitive tools I picked up in therapy.

My personal favorite I’d like to share is the acronym, CALM. You’re supposed to go through each letter like it’s a step.

Curiosity: Why am I feeling this way?

Acceptance: Accept what it is your experiencing and let it process. Denial only feeds your inner demons.

Love: Showing yourself self-love. What would you say to someone else that’s in your situation? Tell it to yourself.

Motivation: The experience is over. There are no take backs. What can you do next? How do you move on?

I met this one guy the other day. He seemed nice enough at first. But he was so persistent. He kept messaging me at the most random hours. He seemed like he was in a real hurry to get to know me. I’m thinking he’s sensing a love connection in the making. I didn’t do anything to make him think that. He sent me three selfies of himself, seemed to be waiting for the right time to pounce on me, and he tried to include himself in my creative works. He said he was doing the same. He says he is struggling. He’s using it as an excuse to talk to me and I know it.

It was midnight, I was tired, I was getting ready to sleep, and boom! There he was again, messaging me. I plainly told him, “I’m going to bed now.”

I wake up the next morning, I get my coffee freshly brewed, I take my laptop to the front porch, I kick back and relax, I’m enjoying the fresh morning breeze, I see my professor walk by the house and I happily say “hello”. Right when I’m halfway done with my coffee and in the middle of listening to Amara La Negra’s “Insecure”, who messages me?

It’s Stalker Boy. I’m not in the mood to talk because I want to enjoy my day. So when he asks, “Good morning. How are you?” I swiftly responded three single word responses.

“Good”, “Caffeinating”, “Busy”. I told him that I was working on some stuff and that I was on a deadline. I’m already sick of this dude. So I typed up a letter, explaining myself very clearly that I needed him to chill out, don’t be in a huge rush to get to know me, and to respect my boundaries. I told him he was coming at me strong and that I was feeling uncomfortable. I told him about the sexual harassment I went through when we first spoke. I told him that I was still processing things. But he wouldn’t let up.

He reads the letter and says, “Ok. I understand. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what I was doing.” I try to get back to what I was doing and he still wants to make chit-chat.

Stalker Boy: “Meep. I hate storms.”

Me: “Suck it up buttercup.”

Stalker Boy: “Fine.”

Three peaceful seconds later…

Stalker Boy: “I’m keeping myself distracted with Persona. Lol.”

Me: “More power to ya. It’s back to work for me.”

Stalker Boy: “Same to you.”

Two or three hours later…

Stalker Boy: “How’s the thing you’re working along coming?”

Me: “Made my deadlines. Now I’m out to treat myself. Peace.”

He tries me again at midnight. I’ve already got my head on my pillow. I ignored it. As soon as I woke up I muted him and set his messages to ignore.

During this whole time I felt uneasy. My mind kept flashing back to when Nasty Nate wouldn’t stop bothering me, explained in graphic detail what he wanted to do to me, and showed me that pic and that video. And that’s when my anxieties were acting up. Everything I felt from that day I was feeling it all over again.

I felt dehumanized, disgusting, ugly, worthless, stupid, and violated. Even though no one has put their hands on me I felt violated. My insides were quivering. My mind felt like it was flooding. I was fighting back tears that were forming.

This is the part that doesn’t make any sense to me. My counselor and friends say that my feelings on this are valid. One of my friends said it sounded like PTSD. Which makes even less sense to me?

It’s been a very long time since I’ve studied psychology but it couldn’t be PTSD. Could it? It was one bad interaction. But my anxieties have been building since that day. And I’m flashing back to it. I almost completely broke down yesterday. I felt my mind begin to shatter. I can’t help feeling as if Nasty Nate really did put his hands on me and violated me physically.

Stalker Boy was just being annoying, not overtly disgusting. But I’m reacting like it’s Nasty Nate all over again. Is this what its going to be like for me every time a guy calls me cute? Every time someone glances in my direction?

I’m trying to bounce back from everything. I’m doing all that I can to take care of myself. I’m trying to move on. But I need to go at this thing hard.

I don’t know if it’s PTSD or not. But whatever it may be it is endangering my recovery from the Nightmare Syndrome. My recovery is something I have had to fight for. I was finally feeling better from everything and then I get sucker punched by circumstances. This will not stand!! I’ve come so far!! I won’t go back to being the person I was before all of this!

I’m devising plans on how to deal with everything. Once Monday hits I’m going on the offensive and giving this everything that I got. I need to get this thing under control before it escalates.

I will not be defeated!! My name is PenSwordAM because I’m not just a writer, but a warrior! So I’m going to fight! And for anyone whose endured sexual harassment, rape, domestic violence, or anything of the like, you all probably have it so much worse than I do. I wish I could help ease your pain. No one should ever have to go through something like this.

So fuck you Nasty Nate! Fuck you Stalker Boy! Fuck you Weinstein! Fuck you Cosby! Fuck you Louie C.K.! Fuck you Kevin Spacey! Fuck you Danny Masterson! Fuck you Jeffrey Tambor! FUCK every one of each and every single miserable piece of filth who hurt people in this way!! For making people feels this way!! If it were up to me they would all be completely destroyed!!

I need to stop here now. I’m going to come back from this, stronger than ever. Because I cannot be broken! I am beautiful, strong, wise, and good! I am a person, not a thing for someone’s personal amusement! You can keep the hits coming because I’ve learned to roll with the punches! Most importantly I can deal a hit a lot better than I can take one! I am a writer and I am a warrior!

I am PenSwordAM!!

Peace out!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A Moment of Weakness

So it looks like I still have stuff to write about when it comes to my “Nightmare Syndrome”. Oh boy oh boy! Nothing makes my life more complete than to talk nonstop about my mental health issues and the pitch black darkness of my mind!!!

Hahahahahahahahaha…..haha…ha….ha..*fights tears*

usagi cry

If that first paragraph hasn’t deterred you in anyway, great! If you’re turned off by it, turn away now.

The last couple of days have really tested me on both a mental and emotional level. I’ve literally been starving, being forced to ration my food because my loan and financial aid is taking forever to process. I’ve been real lethargic lately because of my Zoloft. I’m behind on my assignments, which are piling up. And as some of you may know I was sexually harassed last week too. I tried to bounce back from everything and continue with my work. Then something went wrong with an assignment. It was stuff that was out of my control, but it still really sucked.

I thought I was bouncing back from it all. On Friday I gave my professor an e-mail with evidence that supports why I couldn’t make my deadline. He’s being very understanding and he’s cutting me a break. He’s a very cool guy. That same day I went to go get my financial situation in order. I missed one thing that needed completing before my loan could get disbursed. I set up a meeting with someone to go get a notification to give to my professor.

So then yesterday I went to the Dean of Students office. I told the case manager everything she needed to know. I told her about the harassment that I went through. She asked me to tell her in detail and I did. After that meeting, something triggered in my head.

I was just walking through the hallways and I caught just sideways glance of my reflection and my mind went to the dark place. My “Nightmares” were acting up again. For the first time in several weeks. I didn’t miss them one bit.

I kept hearing in my mind, “I’m ugly, I’m gross, I’m filthy, I’m worthless”. I did everything I could to fight it off. But it ate me up for a huge chunk of yesterday. I felt stupid, weak, and ashamed. I knew in my head that there was no reason I should feel that way, but I just could not think rationally. I still feel so disgusted about what happened with Nasty Nate. Is this what it’s like for all those people who called out on Harvey Weinstein and the rest of them? Even though he didn’t lay a finger on me? I wasn’t even a person to him. I was just a thing for him to use so he could get off.

“I’m just a thing. Not a real person.” That also kept echoing in my mind. My nerves were acting up, I felt like I was getting triggered left and right, and I felt my energy drop to such low levels. I never thought I would be so happy to take my Zoloft when I got home. I went through the entire day without eating anything. Once I had something in my stomach I was able to calm down and start thinking a little more rationally.

I called my Mom and I told her everything that happened. She’s glad that I’m all right, but she was also mad that I didn’t say anything sooner. It’s been a full week since what happened. Even after I went on full blast with the post I had made and letting everyone on my Facebook know what happened there was this still this sense of shame. That shame made it hard to pick up the phone and tell my Mom what happened. I even thought that she would somehow minimize it or call me a crybaby or whatever.

So some pretty big lessons to take away from this.

  1. I am not invincible. I’m not depression proof. I am going to have my share of bad days and moments of weakness. Zoloft helps a lot, but I need to utilize other skills and tools that I can use when stuff like that happens.
  2. My personal pride has gotten in my way one too many times. It was pride that kept me from asking for food from the roommates or taking advantage of the food pantry services that are around town. Pride almost kept me from asking for help from the professor and others. I can’t be afraid to reach out for help anymore. Pride is almost got me killed in the first place.
  3. I am not ugly. I am not a thing. I am not disgusting. I am not worthless. Depression has and always will be a hatchet faced lying bitch troll from hell that lives with me and I have to deal with. Those lies pollute the mind and taint the soul. But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s made me stronger. Pain can serve its purpose to become power.

I need to carry on with the rest of my day. I hope you all have great one. I’m gonna bounce back from things. Just like I always have. Those “Nightmares” have met their match with me.

Don’t Mess With Writers

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.

dangerous mind

I Will Not Be Silent.

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.

Screen Shot 2018-06-13 at 12.40.20 PM

 

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.

 

Is the Battle Over?

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.

Later days.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ride Those Waves

So I’ve been back home for a week now. I had been meaning to write something for a while, but I was relaxing. I was in deep relaxation. Let me bring you loyal readers up to date.

 

First, I’ve graduated. I didn’t want to go through with the ceremony, but I did. I had only gotten 2 hours of sleep the night before. But I didn’t fall asleep during the ceremony. Nope. Because I was wearing cargo shorts underneath the gown and in my pockets was my Nintendo 3DS. So the minute those long, dried, tired ass speeches started up I played the shit out of Bravely Second. I had to stay alert SOMEHOW. Then I walked. I had my picture taken a bunch of times. I came home and I celebrated with my family.

Everyone was happy for me. There was good on the table courtesy of my Tias. My cousin got me an entire bottle of Prosecco. No one is allowed to drink from that bottle, but me. ME ME ME ME ME.

And of course there was chit chat and questions. “What’s next?” “What do you want to do next?”

My answer was simple….

All I wanted….more than anything else in the world….

More than tickets to a Stevie Nicks show….More than I wanted to have a one night stand with Charlie Hunnam…..

What I truly wanted was….

TO LIE THE FUCK DOWN!!!!!

A week prior to that I had the dosage of my medication increased. I am now at 100 mg. And it’s paying off. I’ve had absolutely no intrusive thoughts at all. No anxieties acting up, no suicidal thoughts, no uneasiness at all. My serotonin levels are sky rocketing. I’m powering through the side effects.

I feel the Zoloft working inside of my mind. I feel it like a wave. It’s not painful. It’s just a wave that lets me know that it’s there. It’s gentle. I call it a Z-Wave. That’s how it all started out. But the other night those extra milligrams kicked in a big way. I experienced the freaking tsunami of Z-Waves. I felt very wonky. Not nauseous or dizzy, but just so out of place. This was two days ago. I slept it off and I haven’t experienced anything since. I’m adjusting to the full 100 mg. Last week I was on 75 mg to built up to 100. I’m feeling the difference in strength and it’s working.

From now on though I have this goal to adjust to this dosage. If my wave analogy is accurate then all I need to do is learn to ride it so that it doesn’t overpower me.

I’ve managed to make a lot new friends and I’ve reconnected with others that I deleted when the depression got so bad. The walls that surrounded me have broken down completely. There’s no noise in my mind. The fog has been lifted. And the Nightmares are much weaker. I’m finally able to write and enjoy things again. This is the best I’ve felt in a very long time.

I don’t feel afraid of anything anymore and I’m ready to do what needs to be done to turn all my dreams into a reality.