Brushed Teeth: Yes
Walked: Yes, 60 min 3.05 miles
Healthy Breakfast: Yes
No Dunks or Starbucks: Yes
Mood: Sick, tired, and intrigued
I am catching up on blogging. I haven’t blogged in days. I’ve just been sick and kind of out of it. I’m still doing my morning routine but, I haven’t been blogging or free writing. Sorry if I said this in my last blog too. In order to write this blog I had to go to my twitter feed to see what I had to say last Wednesday and I made an interesting discovery that day so this won’t be as short as I worried it might. I have suffered from Identity Confusion (first of all didn’t know it was called that) for a long time now. I don’t know myself. I know superficial details but, I feel like I don’t know who the real me is. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve been there. I always thought this loss of sense of self was a symptom of my bipolar or depression or ADD but, I read an article today called The Brain in Defense Mode: How Dissociation Helps Us Survive and found out that it is most likely caused by the trauma I’ve been through. Read more
I am obese. I have been for a long time now. I think I may be genetically predisposed, none of my relatives are stick figures, but I know my habits are to blame in large part. Being obese makes me hate my body and leads to more negative self talk, depression, and anxiety but, I think being mentally ill is what makes me obese. You see bad habits are harder to break and good habits are harder to form, though I am trying, when you’ve got bipolar (mostly depression), ADD, anxiety, and PTSD. They feed into each other. I’m obese because I’m mentally ill and I’m having trouble overcoming my mental illnesses because I’m obese. It’s a problem I am sure many people have. I thought about doing some research on this matter but, I think it is very easy to come by, the link between weight and mental illness whether you are obese or underweight is quite obvious. I think instead I’ll just talk about my weight and my history.
I was always short, thin, and awkward growing up. When I became a teenager curves started developing, my legs started getting “thick” as one guy put it but, I was still in a size 3 and had flat abs. The guys loved it and that was very important to me at the time. I wasn’t crazy about my legs, I did Legs of Steel workouts to try and slim them down but, not really in earnest. Then I had kids. Now you might think I’m going to say they made me fat but, you’d be wrong, I was right back in my size 3 jeans after my children. I had my children very young, I was 16 and 19 when I gave birth. So whenever I say “I’m fat” to someone and they say, “well you have two kids” I have to tell them they are not to blame at all. I was able to eat whatever I wanted and not worry about my weight. Though I did do some working out to get rid of the baby weight I didn’t work out regularly and I didn’t keep up with it. Read more
Today I woke up, brushed my teeth, and went to the gym, in the right order this time. The mile felt harder today for some reason, probably because I didn’t stretch yesterday. I did today so I hope tomorrow it’ll be a little easier. I then went to my Sister’s house to spend time with her and my two adorable nephews who are crazy but, super adorable so I don’t mind. They are almost 3 and 8 months old. I wrote in yesterday’s journal entry that tomorrow (Wednesday) I was going to try to take the 30 mg slow release Adderall and see if I could stay out of bed all day, I realized today that is quite a jump from 10 mg-30 mg so instead I’ve decided to take 20 mg of the fast acting stuff today I took one in the am and one around 5pm, before I got too lazy to see if it keeps me going if it does I think I’ve solved the problem but, I really should step it up slowly so 1 week with two doses of 10 mg a day and then I’ll increase to the 30 mg. Very boring stuff I am sure. I treated myself today to Ida Maria’s album Fortress ’round My Heart which is my favorite but, I didn’t own for some reason. I also treated myself to a dozen white roses. I hate grocery shopping so I think I deserve a reward for doing so and buying some healthy junk too. Read more
I got this idea from @Davesoapbox; name your disorders so they really feel like something other than yourself which is what they are. They may color your personality but, they are not you. So this is going to be a short piece where I just name all of my disorders. It could have been a tweet but, it would have been too long.
So, here are all my disorders and their names:
Bipolar II – This is a tough one I’m trying to think of a name of someone who is turbulent…oooh Ursula. Yup Ursula the sea witch from The Little Mermaid. I’ll try to make the rest less Disney.
Depression – I think I’m going to name this Debbie after Debbie Downer, the SNL skit and my Mother.
Adult ADD – Addie sounds like someone whose hyper and flighty.
PTSD – Patsy, the name of the tortured, abused child actress from Jessica Jones who goes by Trish now.
Anxiety – Hmm, almost forgot about this one. Nelly? You know the phrase nervous Nelly.
So I am going to try to call my disorders Ursula, Debbie, Addie, Patsy, and Nelly. To prove to myself that they are separate from my true self. Thank you for the inspiration @Davesoapbox!
This is going to be a very graphic retelling of my many rapes. Why am I so rapable? Well, I’m not quite sure. It could be because I was very promiscuous from a very young age. I can’t remember the names of everyone I’ve slept with, I don’t even have a number range and I’m ashamed of that. Here I am slut shaming myself when I would never dare think of doing that to another woman. I think it’s demeaning and wrong and what a woman does with her own body is her business but, when it comes to myself I honestly think maybe I’ve been raped so often because I had a sort of scarlet letter on my chest that was only visible to creeps. I have always had low self esteem and been slightly needy, maybe that was the thing that put the target on my back or another part of my anatomy? I can’t tell you why I’ve been raped so often or why I never pressed charges or even fought or screamed, all I can do is tell you my tales and how they still affect me to this day.
I was always starved for attention. My Father at a very young age made it clear, unintentionally, that I would never be good enough and my Mother made me feel like a burden. They were both struggling with their own mental health issues though my Mother would never admit it. I began to get very sexually curious around age 13 or so after finding pornography in the basement. I had also stopped looking quite so gangly and I had grown into my teeth. When I started getting attention from boys I was thrilled. I saw every “boyfriend” as a chance to have a real relationship and connection with someone. The boys unfortunately did not have that in mind. Read more
I categorize myself as someone who has PTSD but, I have so few triggers and it doesn’t take over my life so I’m not sure I have the right to say that I have PTSD. There were 3 truly traumatic events in my life; I was emotionally abused by my ex husband, I was in a severe car accident where both of my femurs broke and my right foot was pinned (and broken) I also broke a rib and my pelvis (the hip sockets), and I was raped multiple times. Each of these events has come back to haunt me in a PTSD episode if that is what you could call it.
My ex husband was very controlling. He picked me up from work one night and as we were driving home he swerved to the side of the road like a mad man and asked loudly, “Who was that guy you were talking to?” I responded, “The security guard, he’s like 60 and I was just being nice.” He said, “You don’t have to be nice.” I said, “I can’t not talk to men I work with.” He responded, “Yes you can. Just say I’m sorry I can’t talk to you, I’m married.” I never actually did that because it is insane but, he truly wanted me to, no he was ordering me to. He always thought I was cheating on him. I was raising two kids and working I had no time nor desire to cheat on him and honestly had never once given him any reason not to trust me. I didn’t have a past history, I wasn’t going out ever because he scared all of my friends away. It was insanity. His own Mother told him this on numerous occasions. He just wouldn’t hear reason. Read more
As a Doctor Who fan I know that time is not a strict progression of cause to effect so starting at the beginning would be silly and it would take a long time to get to any real events of consequence. No I think the better option is to make this post my mission statement of sorts as well as a getting to know you, ice breaker post. I have been told time and again that I’m a great writer but, thanks to my very low self esteem, I often think people are saying this to be nice. I don’t think I’m a terrible writer though so I thought blogging along with my twitter feed @RealismBites would be a good way to get my story out there and hopefully cause many people to say, “I’m not the only one!”
So that is the basis of my mission statement. It is to help those who need to know or be reminded (as I often do) that depression is as real as a broken leg. That you aren’t the only one who finds daily things, that others seem to do without thinking, extraordinarily difficult. That it isn’t out of the realm of possibility that you might be extremely lonely and yet cancel every set of plans because you want to be alone simultaneously. That you had a severe panic attack when you heard about the most recent mass shooting. That hearing your neighbors argue gave you a PTSD flashback to feeling exactly like you did that time your ex husband wouldn’t let you leave the bedroom until you agreed to have a drink with him and yelled for hours about you judging him. That it is impossible to watch a rape scene partly because it is a horrific thing for anyone to go through but, also because you wish you had been as strong as the women fighting and clawing and screaming at their attackers. That it isn’t abnormal for you to be able to binge watch Jessica Jones but be incapable of concentrating in a 30 minute meeting. That people do not often go out of their way to be so nice as to make much effort or in my case to promote you as my therapist has assured me many times.