Realizing my worth.

What I’ve written is actually a conversation between me and one of my best friends in the world. Honestly, without her I don’t know what I would do. We live far apart and unfortunately don’t get to catch up often enough, but I know no matter what she is always there. Which is why I knew I had to go to her.

My depression isn’t the only problem. My relationship is a big problem. I know I need to leave, but I can’t seem to make myself. Here goes.

ME: http://www.cosmopolitan.com/entertainment/a4370631/why-kylie-jenner-and-tyga-should-never-be-relationshipgoals/?src=socialflowFB. This kinda makes me think of my relationship. I deserve to raise my standards and be happy.

HB: See here’s the thing: you deserve to demand whatever your standards are and not give a flying fuck about sticking to them. You deserve to NEVER be treated less than you deserve. And if you see you and him in Kyga…babe. Get. Out.

ME: I know…I just can’t make myself commit to it. This past weekend I was so close to making plans with my mom to help me move out and get an apartment. So I can try living on my own and being on my own.

HB: And then did he give you just enough of what you want to make you stay?

ME: I’ve been in therapy for 6 months. I went in trying to work through my problems with my mom, and what I’ve been learning the past couple of years about my childhood. Then I realized how depressed I am. I was so insanely depressed and I couldn’t see how unhappy I was. And now I’m realizing how much I don’t like myself. I don’t think there is anything special about me. Why would anyone love me? Why would anyone care about me, or want to even be friends with me. I’ve been on Zoloft. And it helped at first. Around my birthday I was happier than I’ve ever been. And a couple of weeks later we got in this huge fight and he said he couldn’t trust me because I got really drunk and he had to come pick me up on a weeknight. Then I found some texts on his phone to some girl saying “I wish we had fucked that night. At least I got to kiss you.” And I didn’t say anything until the next day and it was the worst I’ve ever felt in my life. When I told him and he said it was true, because things had been bad… Of course he used his “hail mary.” Marriage. He knows that’s what I want more than anything, and he dangled it in my face. And he still does it. And I think I’m lucky, that he was kind enough to STOP TALKING TO OTHER FUCKING GIRLS and be loyal to me. I deserve a fucking MAN who would do anything for me. Would  NEVER make ME feel guilty for his infidelity. But I’m still here. This past weekend I hit rock bottom. I’ve isolated myself completely. From my mom, my coworkers, I don’t have friends. Or at least I don’t feel like I do. I was so alone. And had convinced myself that no one would listen to me. Or care about what was going on. When I realized I was having suicidal thoughts, I realized this wasn’t me. This isn’t where I belong. I should NEVER have a thought like that. I called my dad because I was scared shitless. I didn’t know what else to do. I was physically alone and not home. It was awful.

HB: A) I’m  SO GLAD you called your dad. B) Here’s the thing. Talk to yourself and ask yourself how to take care of you. Use some visualization meditations and picture yourself as a separate person, a friend or child perhaps, and imagine allowing this separate girl go through what you are. Would you stand by? Or would you do something to try and change her situation? He is abusive. Emotionally, devastatingly so. I’ve thought so for years. This doesn’t mean that there isn’t real feelings between you, or that he’s doing it on purpose, but it DOES mean that you are in a situation and place that is continually toxic and harmful to your very essence. I believe that you believe in karma and the universe being connected and everything having a purpose, etc…everything includes you. If something or someone in your life is holding you back from discovering and realizing and working towards that purpose and meaning in your life, sometimes it is there for a reason, for you to gather your strength and PUSH out of the way because you fucking don’t wanna be sad anymore. Because you deserve to live your fullest life and if it’s hard for you to do this for you, try doing it for him. He’s not living his fullest life skating through people’s hearts and leaving destruction behind him. He needs to learn how to value people if he’s ever going to really love or feel love. You’re not living your fullest life believing these things about yourself and surrounding yourself with someone who simply can’t treat you properly to remind you how horrifically untrue those beliefs are. Those wounds from your childhood will take years to heal. The quickest and most thorough was to heal them in my experience is to fight against what that little girl or other self is thinking or telling herself and force yourself into taking risks to have what you deserve, even if it’s uncomfortable and painful.

 

Thankful for our friendship, no matter the miles. You know who you are.

 

Alice.

To quit or not to quit: the anti-depressant dilemma

 

About 9 months ago I admitted I was depressed. 6 months ago I started seeing a therapist. 4 months ago I started the first anti depressant I’ve ever taken. I’ve taken anti anxiety meds before, but only for a month because I hated how I felt. I was against anti depressants at first, but my therapist thought they would help so I said why not.

Can I just say, I have always been a very sexual person. My boyfriend and I have been together for a long time and we have the best sexual chemistry I could ever imagine. But about 2 weeks after I started taking the meds, sex was the last thing I ever thought about. My boyfriend (we’ll call him Phox) tried to be patient with me, but the contrast between my constant attempts to have sex daily to barely wanting him to even touch me once a week.. he felt like I had turned into a different person.

He was right.

Every day I go through the motions on autopilot. I don’t even remember my work days, or driving, or even having sex with Phox. It makes me sad. I’ve always been a happy person, or so I thought. Ignorance is bliss, right?

Here’s my dilemma: On the meds, I’m a zombie. I think about killing myself pretty regularly, and that thought has never crossed my mind before.. And it scares the shit out of me. Off the meds, I’m manic. My anxiety is through the roof, I cry at the drop of a hat, I will go shopping on my lunch break the day I get paid and spend my ENTIRE CHECK in one store and think nothing about it. Either way, it’s not good for me.

I’ve been debating just stopping the meds, just flush them and move on. But the very small logical portion of my brain shouts at me “DON’T YOU DARE. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT COULD HAPPEN. WAIT AND TALK TO YOUR THERAPIST.” The impulsive part of my brain says “eh, you’ll get over it.”

So basically its this:

Stay on the anti depressants for at least 5 more weeks until I see my psychiatrist and he sets me on a plan to taper off, and risk more suicidal thoughts, self hatred, and no sex drive. (Petty, I know)

Stop taking the anti depressants cold turkey, risk the horrible side effects that I’ve been reading about, make my anxiety ten times worse, and be my crazy manic self that can’t take care of herself.

All aboard the struggle bus.

 

Alice

 

via Daily Prompt: Dilemma

First things first

I’ve never really seen myself as someone who was good at much. Especially writing. But I figured I would give it a shot. Please if this strikes a chord with you, share it, let me know. I would love to hear I’m not alone. Anyway, here goes.

So when I was in like the 4th or 5th grade I got a gift card to Toys ‘R Us. Being a 10 year old I was obviously too cool for anymore barbies (but damnit they were always so pretty), I ended up looking at the clothing section. I found this cute little vermilion colored dress with flowers all over. It had 3/4 length peasant sleeves with slits down the outside. So presh. My hairstyle around this age, had a Carol Brady esque look to it, but softer and toned down. I don’t remember much else about that outfit, but I’m fairly certain I wore it with jeans..boot cut of course, the dress was a little too short if I remember correctly. I was so excited to go to school and show off my cute new outfit. I had probably been at school for an hour when these two boys in my class made fun of my outfit and said it looked like I was wearing a “babies dress” and how ugly it was. (These two boys bullied me from 3rd to 6th grade.) I pretended I was sick and went to the office, looked through the lost and found and grabbed a Nike sweatshirt and wore that all day. When I got home I cut up the dress.

That’s the earliest memory I have of hating the way I looked and wishing I was someone different. Though definitely not the last or the scariest.

I come from the south. That’s all that matters. My parents divorced when I was young. And I grew up with my siblings. Let’s put it this way, I had to grow up really fast for a lot of different reasons. I used to always feel a lot older than my friends, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve been feeling younger and less successful than almost everyone I know. I’ve done pretty well for myself considering I’m in my mid twenties.

I’ve always tried to use fashion as an outlet. I can put together some cute outfits sometimes, like really 😉. But I also have days where I cant figure a damn thing out. Nothing seems to look right together and I feel like everything I own is ugly. I worry that everyone around me will think my outfit is awful or that I shouldn’t be wearing a certain type of clothing, or that I look dumpy…like I just rolled out of bed (which I probably did…). Anyway; I have so much anxiety over my self image. I see myself as an overweight girl who’s trying really hard to accept herself. I go through a lot of phases. Punk, preppy, chill, professional, you name it. I experiment with every aspect of my look (hair and makeup especially), I feel like the only way my peers will accept me is if I look like I am always 100%. My mind is always fogged and ultimately unaware of what is going on. I try so hard to be present and be a better person and friend but I always feel like I’ve failed.

I’m writing this, because I guess I’m working on self discovery. Everything I’m writing I am writing completely off the top of my head. I need to write it down so I can remember it, and hope to understand why I hate myself so much. Obviously there are a lot of problems and issues I’m leaving out. They don’t matter. I already know those, and I know their role in who I’ve become.

The dictionary describes the word ‘Lonely’ as “without companions; solitary.” Now, I’m a very social person. I’ve always worked with people and have been easy to get along with. But despite that, I have always felt alone. As though no one actually likes me. They’re all just judging me and they feel bad for me because I’m awkward. Or dressed weird, and it goes on and on and on. And I don’t want to bother the people close to me with my fears because they seem so petty. Then, I worry that the people close to me are annoyed with my stories, or ranting, or they just get annoyed by my presence. My everyday constant thought process is; try really hard, do my best, feel proud of myself, worry that I’m making a fool of myself, shut down and say nothing. It’s exhausting.

I’ve always been a seemingly happy person. Anytime people talked about depression, I knew I would never be like that. Because my life was fun. I was fun. I probably didn’t make all of the best decisions, but what else do you expect. When the realization finally hit I decided to combat it. I didn’t want to wallow and be pitiful. But in turn, I end up talking A LOT about my realizations, and my course of treatment, and even the things I learned. I hate myself for that. I hate that I dislike myself SO MUCH that I can only feel better from the recognition and attention others give me. I don’t know how to love myself.

I throw myself into everything. I leap no matter how ominous the valley. And if I start to fall I literally pull solutions out of thin air. When it comes to flying by the seat of my pants, I’m a fucking champ. And I hate that. I try and try and try to plan things, even my day to day activities, but I can never stick to a schedule or timeline.

You have to nurture yourself, to nurture others. I try to take care of everyone around me. I’m a nosey person, but I mean well. If I get in your business it’s because I love you. But all of that love and care I’m trying to give out, I can barely function anymore because I’m so drained. I don’t nurture myself. Being irresponsible and not honoring my word to people about the things I will do for them and not doing it…it’s not healthy. I’ve never tried to just focus on myself.

I want to be better. I want to be able to make myself happy without the approval of others. That’s what I’m hoping to learn through this “journey”