Throw Me A Life Line

Published on by A Girl & Her Wolves

Am I ever going to stop talking about my depression? Probably not. Why? Because not everyone gets it. Some people I’ve told about my depression don’t believe that I have it because I don’t look or act like it. I’ve mastered the “fake it ’til you make it” routine. On the outside, I look like a normal well-adjusted adult who has it together. On the inside, I’m a jumble of all kinds of shit.

Just to clarify, I didn’t choose to be depressed. I didn’t choose to have anxiety. I’ve been through trauma that will never disappear. I’m always going to carry that with me for the rest of my life. If there was a magic pill to make all that go away, I will not hesitate to take it.

I’ve been considering getting a ketamine treatment. I’m a good candidate for it as my depression is medication resistant. When I take two anti-depressants and an anti-anxiety medication and I still feel like I’m drowning, I’m desperate. I know all about the side effects. But I feel like shit ALL. THE. TIME.

I’m constantly feeling low and I’m cruel to myself. So many times I tell myself how everyone is better off without me because i’m sick and I don’t think I’m ever going to get better. I feel like I’m getting worse. I fear for my life because I wake up every day wondering if this is it…this is the day that I’m going to go off into the deep end again. I mentioned to my husband this morning that I’m falling apart.

I should be relaxing and taking advantage of this downtime considering the mental trauma I just went through at my previous job. But my brain won’t stop running and I can’t sit still. I need to be busy all the time. It’s driving me crazy that I am not being mentally stimulated and challenged. At one point in time, I used to know what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Now, I don’t even know anymore. I’m not really living, just existing. Being unemployed and getting up every morning without anywhere to go is just making my depression worse.

So where am I really going with this? I’m bored out of my mind plus you add on severe anxiety because I’m so unsure of my life right now. Am I ever going to get a job that won’t make me feel like I’m going to get picked on? Am I going to get unemployment? How will my family eat? How do I keep my lights on? Do I need to sell my shit? So many uncertainties and I don’t have any answers. All the while, I’ve got people depending on me and I feel helpless because I don’t have any fucking clue how to fix this shit.

The Universe Is A Dick

Published on by A Girl & Her Wolves

I’m typing all of this from my phone because even though my desk is only about 10 feet away my brain is telling me to chill out and just lay in bed.

I’m a very wound up person. It’s gotten worse as I’ve gotten older. I’ve lost patience with people and I don’t want to be around them unless it’s work or family. I can’t stand the small talk and the fake conversations. I’m really angry and annoyed.

And I’m thisclose to giving up on life.

Please. Before you call 911 and report me for being suicidal, just remember that I have suicidal thoughts. It comes from my depression which used to be mild a year ago and then turned into major.

I think life is another person who enjoys picking on people and see how much it would take until they crumble. Growing up, I didn’t show emotions most of the time. I didn’t let my mother see me upset when she got upset. My lower lip didn’t quiver and I could feel my eyes dilating to where they were probably just black. This is how I learned to show people that I can’t be broken. So when life is fucking with me, I dig my heels in and refuse to fall apart.

But there are times when I feel like I should fall apart. Just to make myself feel human. Because when shit hits the fan I’m stoic. I don’t react. Inside, I’m screaming and I’m angry. On the outside, I’m that really calm person directing people to the exit during a fire drill.

Please don’t ask me to direct people to the exit during a fire drill or a real fire.

So here we are, life is kicking my ass again. I’m not mad. Maybe because I’ve gotten so used to it. And I’m not just talking about the shit I’ve done to put me in certain predicaments, I’m also talking about people who have shit on me in the past. Some of them have to bear the responsibility of why I am the way I am.

I’m not a people pleaser. I’m not one to nod and agree to everything. I’ve learned that if you let people walk all over you or jerk you around you set a precedent for everyone else to do the same. I’ve stood up for myself and got in trouble but at the end of they day, at least I didn’t take shit from anyone. Maybe that attitude is why I don’t really associate with a lot of people. I can count the number of friends I have with one hand and one of them is my sister. That attitude may be the reason why people don’t fuck with me at all. But I’ve also learned that other people’s opinion of me is none of my business.

Maybe there’ll be brighter days ahead. Maybe something will change the way I feel about the universe and everything else in it. But for now, let me be dark and angry because I deserve to at least feel something even if it feels like my heart is being crushed and my blood is boiling.

A New Chapter

Published on by A Girl & Her Wolves

I lost my job. I was loyal to the company and I busted my ass to make sure my department went along smoothly. I was my manager’s right hand. My superintendents appreciated me. But I still got fucked.

The reasons are somewhat ridiculous. I felt like I was picked on. I was basically under a microscope and every move I made was being analyzed. I could’ve been redeemed but management didn’t like me. Can’t help that.

Am I okay? Yes. I will be. But on the other hand I’m relieved. So relieved that when they told me they were letting me go I didn’t have a meltdown. It felt like all the world’s problems was off my shoulders. But I still feel like they fucked me up the ass with a 12-inch dildo without any lube.

Could I have been a better employee? No, because no matter what management had it out for me. I left without lashing out and making a giant scene. But I know I did a great job there. I committed myself 24/7 without complaints.

I see this as a new chapter. For the first time in a long time, I slept without waking up in the middle of the night thinking about work. I woke up this morning without freaking out about work. I’m looking forward to waking up on Monday without dreading what the day will bring me.

I’ve decided to not rush my job search. I’ve decided to focus on me for the first time in a long time. I have to take care of myself. I was under so much stress at work that I completely lost sight of what is really important – me. I can take this time to finish books I started. Find a real hobby and actually go to the gym. Get my house straight. Spend more time with my pets. Maybe freelance again. Do things that I’ve wanted to do but never found the time. Maybe blog more. Take up photography again. Wake up on a normal time on Fridays. Get a full 8 hours of sleep.

Here’s to bigger and better things. It’s time to leave the past and get excited about the future.

Where I Complain About Being A Woman

Published on by A Girl & Her WolvesLeave a comment

So in a few weeks, my womb will be removed. The pear shaped organ that carried my children. The one thing that differentiates me from men. The reason why I can talk about abortion and why it’s no one’s business why someone is getting one. That organ. My uterus.

I’ll be saying goodbye to my uterus. It’s not because I want to but it’s because I have a medical condition. I’m not supposed to have any more periods since I had the Novasure done. But for over a year now, I’m suffering from them. Sometimes they get so bad that it wipes me out completely and I end up sleeping all day.

Am I sad? In a way. This is not the first organ to be removed from my body. It would actually be the 4th. How fun. But I am also relieved. No more periods. No more PMS. And hopefully no more PMDD.

This is going to be a life changer. It’s still sad (and scary) but I don’t like that I’m suffering every month from something I no longer need.

I will have to spend the night in the hospital (remind me to write about the morphine machine). My husband will also be spending the night with me so yay! Hospital rooms are cold and creepy.

This isn’t my first rodeo so I should be really good at this. But goodbye, periods!!

Call Me Old Fashioned…

Published on by A Girl & Her Wolves

I had a choice. I didn’t have to take his last name when we got married but I chose to. Not because it’s the norm or tradition…but my reasons were more than just because I’m fucking in love.

But I can totally understand why some women don’t and I commend those who made the choice even though people talked her out of it. Like this woman: http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/9417350?

I took my husband’s last name because my maiden name started with a Q and remembering how much of a pain in the ass it was to be so close to the end of the alphabet. Especially when we had to line up alphabetically by last name in school or I had to look for a table that had the sign “P-Q” and it was always at end of the freakin’ hall. Also, I’m the type who likes to get stuff over with so I always almost wanted to just die every time I had to wait to present something to the class.

I remember when it was time to renew our parking passes where I used to work. Went to my table (A-C), told them my last name and I was the fourth one down the list (my first name is like smack in the middle of the alphabet). Shit like that makes me happy that I took Jeremy’s last name. It baffles people, too, because they didn’t expect an Asian chick with an American last name until they check my ring finger. Kinda funny to me.

Also, being called The [REDACTED] Family sounds awesome. I seriously considered naming my daughter Wednesday. Now I see how that was stupid idea but I was pregnant and all I could think of was the next time I could eat or nap so I wasn’t really thinking clearly.