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.

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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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here I Come, World!!!

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.

The Recovery Plan

So I haven’t been able to write anything here for a while. I haven’t been able to create anything in a while either. Not on my WWE game, not for my story universe, not in the kitchen, or anywhere else. I’ve been sticking to my medication, I’ve continued going to counseling, and it looks like I’ll be doing the same over the summer time.

This semester completely blew. It’s almost identical to what happened to me last year. I thought that getting help when I did would mean that I’d have everything nipped in the bud. But that’s not how it turned out. But it’s a good thing I did reach out for help when I did. Otherwise I’d probably would’ve been dead by now.

But it’s okay. Mentally, I’m doing all right. At some point I’m going to have a stronger dosage of Zoloft prescribed to me. Emotionally, I feel like a complete wreck. I wish I could explain the reason why. But I can’t seem to explain to myself. I was hoping that by writing something here that it would offer up some clarity. This is the best thing that I can do in an attempt to purge out everything.

I have my last counseling session tomorrow. This will mark the first time that I’ve used up all ten sessions offered. That’s the rule here at App State. You only get ten sessions per semester. Afterwards you’re supposed to go look elsewhere for help where it’s not free. But if it comes down to that I have no problems with it.

I’m trying to get a handle on what I’m feeling. My emotions are in a whirlwind and I’m doing everything I can to not allow them to influence my thinking. I’ve been feeling this way since last week and it’s drained so much energy out of me.

I keep picking up fear, anger, sadness, indecision, confusion, and shame.

I’m scared of what’s going to happen next. I’m scared that my depression will be the end of me. I’m scared of not knowing how I’ll be able to function in life on a daily basis.

I’m angry at myself for being this way. I’m angry that nothing has gone according to my vision. I’m angry at the world that keeps fueling my inner demons faster than I can blink. I’m angry at people for not being to understand how I think and feel. I get even angrier when they say something that will minimize what I’m going through.

I’m sad because it feels like I’m nowhere close to where I want to be. I’m sad because it feels like my dreams have become impossible to realize at this point. I’m sad because it feels like there’s no end to this struggle, no matter how hard I try.

I feel lost and confused. I don’t know which path to take and where it will lead me, to a brighter future or to a darker pit. I don’t know how to be stronger than I’ve already been. I don’t know how to undo all the negativity that’s been hardwired into my mind. Sometimes I don’t even know how to believe in anything good and beautiful. And if depression is supposed to be a catalyst for great new change then I don’t know if I should be looking forward to it or not.

I’m scared of changing, but I’m also scared of never changing.

I try not to dwell on the things I haven’t accomplished on my journey or the many setbacks I’ve encountered along the way. But there’s still this sense of deep shame that’s nesting inside of me.

In my mind’s eye I was supposed to be living the lifestyle that would make everyone be envious of me. It’s me that’s supposed to have bragging rights, a person to love and call mine, see the world, and be successful in everything I set out to do. No matter how much time has passed I feel this bitterness.

No more. I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I don’t want to die, but I also don’t want to keep living a life where I am always feeling this way. If something hasty change then all of this mess needs to change. And that can’t happen unless I change.

So I’m in the same spot that I was in last year. I had to pick myself up from rock bottom and move forward to something better. No matter how much I piss and moan the things that I desire will not be handed to me.

I have a lot of work that’s ahead of me, but I can’t accomplish anything as I am now in my current state. Not as long as I keep feeling sorry for myself, not with my warped cognition, and not by staying still or not being true to myself.

So I’m coming up with a “Recovery Plan”. For now I’m gonna get the basics down and then I’m going to jump into things head first. Once I’ve taken the plunge I’ll know where to go from there and what adjustments have to be made. I have to keep this as flexible as possible so I’ll be able to adapt on the go.

Before I’m able to do anything I need to accept where I’m at now. I have to acknowledge everything that I’m feeling. I know why I feel the way that I do and I can tell myself that it’s okay to have these emotions. They are what make me human.

And yeah, depression has been a bitch in my life for many years now. But right now I’m seeing the good that has come from it all. Depression has matured me in ways I never thought was possible. It’s given me insight. It’s made me grounded. It’s made me empathic. It’s made me stronger. It awakened and molded this warrior spirit that I never knew existed until I made the choice to live and go after what I want. I still have that. I never lost it. Getting lost in the darkness of my depression has only made me believe that it was gone and made me believe that I’ve been powerless this entire time.

I’ve been treating my depression as a curse for the longest time. Not everyday is always a good day, but I’d be lying if I said nothing has come from it. I’ve been beaten down and I’ve been able to come back from my defeats. I’ve been able to overcome numerous fears and challenges precisely because of my experiences with depression and because I tried killing myself. I’ve been fighting it nonstop, but it keeps coming back. Maybe that’s where the source of my problems truly lie within.

It doesn’t matter if I like it or not. This depression and all that has come from it have become a vital part of me. So I can’t be rid of it. I can’t forcibly remove it from myself. I can’t suppress it. I can’t kill it. I have to live with it. I have to make my peace with it. I have to accept it as a part of me and love it in the same way that I want to love other parts of myself.

Depression is a part of me. But that doesn’t suggest that it gets to rule over me or define me who I am as a person. It’s just one of infinite factors to my self. I can draw strength from it. I can use it to propel myself forward. I can use it as my shield and sword. I can use it as my own power. I just have to learn to not allow it have power over me.

I think maybe I’ve found the clarity that I needed.

I accept it as a part of me. But that doesn’t suggest that I’m going to stop medication, counseling, or allow myself to drown in the darkness.

I meant to share details of my “Recovery Plan”, but I think this covers the first phase. I’ll get around to explaining the rest later. For now, I need to let all of this sink in.

Take care everyone.