It’s been a long day.

I’ve spent the last few weeks being less active on social media and more active in the political realm. I’ve learned a lot, been frustrated a bit and gained some clarity. Words are such powerful tools. We use them, we don’t think about it. And you know, that seems awfully silly coming from me. I sit on my pedestal and preach the power in intention and am blown away by the way language is used to convey meaning.

But I want to focus on something that happened in my personal life a week or so ago. Because I’ve been reflecting on it so much.

As a kid, I wasn’t super close with my parents. I loved them, to be sure, as all children do. But I don’t think I appreciated them as much as I do now-which is very typical I think. Anyway, since reaching this weird age, I’ve grown to be more appreciative.

Anyway, cut to last week when I had a break down in front of my dad. How mortifying. I told him that I was struggling, and that I didn’t understand why everything seemed so hard. I told him that I saw how hard he worked and how I thought I was making all the right decisions and still things weren’t working out. And he said to me

You can do all the right things for all the right reasons and things still might not work out. It doesn’t mean you failed, it means you’re not done yet.

As I said, I’ve reflected on that every day. I wrote it down in my bullet journal because it was something I needed to hear.

I get so wrapped up in things that I don’t always see the big picture that I’m wrapped up in. It’s the forest for the trees scenario. I want so much to for things to be balanced. Each time I try to look at the big picture, I ask for just one thing. Not for my life to turn out the way I want, with no worries and no troubles. But for balance. You see, somewhere along the way I decided that for each bad thing that happened, there would be a good thing to counteract it.

So for example, saving money and being responsible instead of partying and splurging should mean that I have money to cover all the bills without being stressed out.

But that’s not how it works. And often times it doesn’t account for emergency situations. And I think that’s why I needed to hear the message above. I’m just not done yet. I have to keep going. And believe me, it’s not something I think about with glee. I’m worn out. I’m exhausted. I want things to be okay.

But I’m not done yet. And that’s okay. I’ve just got to keep fighting and everything will work out.

I suppose this blog today is for my own benefit more than anything else. I know that life is hard. And I know that sometimes you just need a break that you can’t have and that more than anything it’s all about endurance. Taking a moment to make sure you’re okay before you keep pushing forward is important and I know I need to hear that. I’m a give-until-there’s-nothing-left kinda person. I get used up and then I don’t know what to do. So it’s time for me to unlearn that and figure out how to make my own balance.

Micromanaging-Coping Mechanisms from Hell

The worst thing about residing in my mind is having a million things to say, but no way to put it into words. I’ve been typing and retyping this blog, hoping to get something down of merit-something I wouldn’t just comb over and ultimately delete. Each day I open WP and decide to work on something, but as you can see, nothing has come out (save the update). It’s not that I’ve wanted to be away, it’s because I can’t.

micromanaging

When I get stressed, I micromanage. Turns out, it’s a coping mechanism from some trauma that I hadn’t dealt with. But it’s bloomed into much more than that. It hurts my relationships, it hurts my self-image and it hinders my ability to be a human being. So of course, I want to blog about it. I don’t want to talk about it, because it feels like a weakness, but I think that’s exactly why I have to-because somewhere out there, someone else is also suffering through it and I understand.

So. Micromanaging. Literally- control every part, however small, of (an enterprise or activity). (Thanks, Google.) You see, when I get into a situation which pushes me a little (or a lot) outside my comfort zone, I immediately flip the switch and micromanage. It could be something like keeping Google Maps pulled up on my phone-even when I know exactly where I’m going, just in case there’s a detour I didn’t know about. Or it could be making a meal plan for an entire month so that I feel useful. And then scrapping it because I could do better and doing it again. And again. It involves me circling my car to make sure everything is off and locked when I park. It involves me making a nightly sweep of my apartment to ensure that everything is off and locked before I go to bed (I even press the buttons on the microwave).

Let me run down a scenario day, so that we can discuss.

Get up, take the dog out (if Ben doesn’t beat me to it). Grab one poop bag from the box, open it, put it in my hoodie pocket. Then grab the leash and clip it to our dog. Look out the peephole and unlock the door while I’m looking. Go outside, look for murderers and ruffians. Look both ways before crossing traffic areas. Go back inside-holding my breath up the stairs in case someone tries to chloroform me on my way back in. Lock the door behind me.
Grab coffee-if I’m microwaving it, put 1 cup on for 1 minute, making sure the microwave reaches 1 second left before I pull the door and remove my cup. Make sure coffee/creamer combo reaches the top of cup.
Leaving for the day-check bag twice, key in hand and leave. Lock the door and test the knob. Walk across the landing, check the knob again. Make it to the car, making sure my ankles can’t be sliced by someone under my car.
Get to destination-do car check. Get to bus stop, look at car to make sure that everything is kosher. The key has to be in my hand until I reach the bus stop-to make sure I didn’t leave it in my car.
Text Ben everything I have to do that day. Then update him every time I complete or add or modify an item.
Get in car to leave-pull up Google maps, plug in home address. Set up music, drive home. Reach home, park and do car check with key in hand. Go to apartment.
If dog needs taken out-repeat morning ritual. If not, run down list of everything that happened at destination, everything that needs to happen and everything that will be optional (even though I already texted that list and all the modifications).
Make dinner (which was pre-planned, and prepped ahead of time). While dinner cooks, make sure to check planner for anything missed.
Eat dinner, update planner, move things into next day if necessary. Plan other things-like novel, blog topic, crafts, etc.
Watch TV or play iPad games. Listen to music. Cross date off on dry eraser board calendar (that I made with color coded events at the beginning of the month).

I think that gives you a basic idea. There’s a lot more planning and checking involved, but this is the basic skeleton. And it happens each and every day. If I take an outing last minute, I plan it before I leave. If I’m walking to a class, I probably have Google Maps open-even if I’ve been there before. If things get changed before I can prepare for it, chances are I will flake on it-bailing completely.

I made a bullet journal for the year, and it’s awesome, but I’ve already filled it with ideas for better bullet journals to make. I do a budget nearly every other day. I write and then rewrite emails and letters-even if they’re to myself.

Like I said, this began as a coping mechanism for something that happened a couple years ago. It wasn’t this bad at first, but became a progressive part of me that now runs my life. I’m not saying it doesn’t have perks-I’m super prepared for law school because I’m always taking notes and doing things to help me in the future. And thanks to my bullet journal, I’ve been adequately hydrated every day this week, as well as working out much more regularly.

Micromanaging is a blessing and a curse. It puts extra stress on my life and my relationships-and that I can’t deny is a real problem. But it gives me the guise of being in control at times when I feel like anything but. Any major change or anything that feels too big for me to handle can be broken down into manageable chunks that I have control over. And having control over situations means that it’s not an impossible task, it’s just something that I need to put more work into.

In the end though, I know this has to be dealt with. I just want you to know that if you’re working through this too-I understand. And if you want to talk about it, at least you know I understand.

You can do this. You’re not broken-you’re exactly the person you need to be at this moment.

Scheduling a Breakdown

(I submitted this to The Mighty a couple days ago, but I know they’re busy, so I thought I’d share it here. I’ll snag the link if/when it goes live. Until then, you can find my articles here.)

It seems like the minute I have a hundred things to do, my brain decides it’s the perfect time for a breakdown. Even though I have no time for it, it’s not convenient and I really don’t want to think about all the things my depression brain focuses on, I find myself doing all of those things instead of my full calendar. So I’ve put together a list of things that help me put a pin in my symptoms momentarily so I can finish up a few things.

1. Set aside time for yourself.
Trust me, as someone who understands all about
procrastinating, this can seem like both an obvious thing and an impossible
thing to do. But I’m talking about a five minute break here or there. Drink
your cup of coffee, slowly. Smell the steam, watch your creamer swirl in the
cup. Live the experience fully. Go get the mail. Do you hear any crickets? The
sound of ice crunching beneath your feet? This little break reminds you to catch
a little perspective and maybe distract you long enough to work through it.

2. Let yourself be upset.
Telling yourself that you’re not that upset only makes you worse. If you
absolutely can’t be upset-do math. It can be simple, like 1+1, 2+2 and so on.
As it turns out, your brain doesn’t like feeling emotions and doing math at the
same time, so you can usually stall your tears for a moment. But if you have
the ability, just be upset. Again, it can be a little five minute moment in
which you feel like the world is crashing around you and all hope is gone. I
ugly cry, take a tissue and blow my nose then get up and grab some water. I’m
not saying I’m done being upset, but if I let myself be upset in little bits,
then it doesn’t come out in a marathon. It’s your right to be upset. Even if
you don’t think there’s a reason. The way you’re feeling is completely valid.

3. Find something you wanna smile about.
I hate the advice “just turn that frown upside
down”. Sometimes that’s the absolute last thing I want to do-and even then it
just makes me angrier, or cry harder. But what I’m talking about is finding
something that you know you enjoy and experience it. If you think penguin’s
laughing is cute-find a video (I think it’s fantastic). If you know you smile
when you make chicken parmesan, make it. Like bubble baths? Take one. Because
finding something to enjoy usually results in some kind of self-care and let’s
be honest-is that ever a bad thing?

4. Take a deep breath.
This isn’t a novel idea, but it’s important.
Your whole body needs oxygen to function. Your brain is absolutely no
different. Think about how hard your brain is working, trying to manage
everything, fix problems (especially the ones you’re worrying about “for
nothing”). You need air. Plus, if you take a moment and focus on your
breathing, sometimes you’ll find that you already knew the answer to the
problems, you were just so focused on everything all at once that you didn’t
notice.
While you’re breathing, try this little
exercise. Take one breath in and list five things you see. Breathe out. Take
another breath and list four things you hear. Breathe out. Take one more breath
and list three things you smell. Breathe out. One more breath and list two
things you can feel. Breathe out. Take another breath and list one thing you
can taste. Breathe out. Take another breath and carry on about your day.

5. Get a validation outfit.
This is one of my favorite things, and it
happened completely on accident. I got a sweatshirt a couple sizes too big and
washed it and decided that I would only wear it when I felt like a terrible
person. I told myself that while I was wearing it, I wasn’t allowed to degrade
myself. The shirt itself has a graphic about always loving yourself, so I
thought I’d wear it when I needed a reminder that I’m not a monster, and that I
matter. It hangs in my closet until I feel depressed, or feel worthless and
then I put it on and read the words. And when the thoughts popped into my head
like “I’m an idiot.” Or “I’m unlovable.” I look at the words on my shirt and
force myself to take ten seconds to say something nice about myself. “I am
fierce. I am valid. I am irreplaceable.” The nice thing about validation
outfits? They can be anything: a business suit, a pair of shoes, earrings, a
bracelet, a pair of socks. The important thing is to remember to love yourself.
Soon enough, it’ll be your favorite piece of clothing.

Life is hectic and hard sometimes. But the important
thing to remember is that you can do it-even when you’re convinced you can’t.

Stigmas in Suicide Terminology

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This article may contain trigger warnings: suicide is going to be discussed-mostly the terminology behind it though. Still, better safe than sorry.

I was having a discussion with a professor a while ago and it came up that I wrote for The Mighty. She asked what it was that I wrote about and without hesitation I said “Suicide”. It wasn’t until much later that I reflected on the conversation and realized that perhaps it seemed like I was sending a message that I didn’t mean to be sending.

I think that depression has a really bizarre way of making you rehash your interactions. My fears were that I was going to have to deal with a well-meaning email asking if I was mentally in a bad place, or worse-a phone call from the counselors on campus asking me to come in at my earliest convenience. I have the fear that if enough people find out I have a mental illness that it will come back to bite me in the ass and prevent me from living my life. Which is ridiculous for exactly two reasons.

  1. A LOT of people know that about me-because I don’t view it as something I need to keep quiet about. I’m going to talk about it because I’m not ashamed of who I am.
  2. Not a damn thing is going to prevent me from living the life I want to lead. And that’s a promise to both ya’ll and myself. If I want it, I will achieve it. The end.

So I made a “cover-my-butt” email and sent it to her. Which was probably the lamest thing I could have done. But it ended up working out in my favor because I got to talk about something that I feel strongly about-stigmas surrounding suicide survivors.

I have issue with the terminology used to talk about suicide. Not because I believe that we shouldn’t talk about it (because we should) but because of the words we use that imply things we don’t mean. Ultimately, it comes down to two questions.

  1. What is it that clearly communicates suicide (or living after) without bringing with it the negative connotations?
  2. What do we call people who live after, instead of dying?

So I was thinking about it, about all that I knew and had at my disposal and about what to use instead. Here are some phrases and my thoughts. (If there’s a *, it’s because I’m going to discuss that phrase later on.)

Commit Suicide: This harkens back to when suicide was a crime-and attemptees* who lived were tried as criminals. (From Google (and Wikipedia): “Before the Suicide Act 1961, it was a crime to commit suicide, and anyone who attempted and failed could be prosecuted and imprisoned, while the families of those who succeeded could also potentially be prosecuted. In part, that criminalization reflected religious and moral objections to suicide as self-murder.”) This implies that people who die on their own terms* are criminals, and those with suicidal ideation are nothing more than premeditating murderers. That’s not right.

Successful Suicide: I have problems with this phrase because “success” will always carry the connotation of (From Google: “accomplishing an aim or purpose”) and it seems like when people use that phrase, they wanted the person to die. I can’t get behind that.

Unsuccessful Suicide: This is the bigger problem I have with “successful suicide”. If an attempt is made and the person lives, under “successful suicide”, that person would be labeled “unsuccessful”. The problem I have with that is that a person who attempted suicide and lived would have reached a point in their lives where they felt there were no other options and the first thing they will hear is “You couldn’t even kill yourself.” You are telling someone who probably felt like they failed at life in every possible way that they also failed at death? That’s a TERRIBLE idea.

Died from Depression: I brought this one up as an alternative, but the truth of the matter is this one is very conditional. I was reading just recently about a police officer who chose his death because he’d become corrupt and didn’t want to go to jail. In this case, it wasn’t depression, and therefore it isn’t applicable to use this phrase. However, in a case like say, Robin Williams (may his soul rest), “died from depression” is completely applicable.

Died From a Complication of Depression: Like the point above, this is conditional. I framed this one by saying the following: If someone had cancer and the coroner put on the cause of death “pulmonary embolism”, we wouldn’t say “They died of a pulmonary embolism.” We’d say “They died of cancer.” The embolism was a complication caused by cancer. The problem with “Complication of Depression”? It takes a while to explain and is extremely conditional.

Selfish Suicide (also: Coward’s Death): I take offense to this one-and many others do as well. If there comes a time when suicide is being seriously contemplated because of depression, it is the furthest thing from selfish. The person will usually feel that taking themselves out of the lives of their loved ones will make those loved ones’ lives less painful, less complicated. Or perhaps it’s a matter of not wanting to continue hurting (either physically or mentally, or maybe both). Neither of those things are selfish or cowardly (and in fact the Google definition of Brave is: “ready to face and endure danger or pain; showing courage”). (A case could be made for incidents like the cop story I mentioned, but that’s a different post for a different day.)

Ultimate Act of Self-Care: First, let’s break this down. Ultimate (From Google: being or happening at the end of a process; final). Self-Care (From Google and Wikipedia: In health care, self-care is any necessary human regulatory function which is under individual control, deliberate and self-initiated.) Now, if you adhere to this very textbook-esque definition, I don’t have a problem with it. The only thing is, not everyone adheres to the same textbook if you catch my drift. “Ultimate” can be seen as synonymous to “highest” or “best”. “Self-Care” has been construed to mean anything from eating well and exercising to splurging on unnecessary items from the store or eating whole pies by yourself. It is this connotation that would imply selfish behavior. However, if we take this to mean “Last deliberate, self-initiated act of addressing an unmet need” then yes, this is good.

Die on their own terms: This is one of the ones I’ve been leaning on. I see it as factual, kind and flexible. The problem with it? It seems to get a lot of “Huh?” faces when I say it-to which I have to reply with the stoic “Suicide”-which defeats the purpose a little. Now, not only does this phrase fall on the ears a little gentler than suicide, it has the open endedness that accounts for mental health, “the police story”, physical disability choices and more without carrying any specific connotation or implication. And should someone live? Then this phrase starts to fall apart a little.

Suicide attempt: (From Google: make an effort to achieve or complete). I know this is really what’s been used in the past, but just as with “success” this seems a little insensitive. Now, I don’t know if there’s anything better for this act. My problem with it comes from the fact that if you attempt something you’ll either “fail” or “succeed” and we’ve already gone over that issue.

Planned/Spontaneous Suicide: These are relatively new introductions to the vocab choices.The only issue I have with these goes back to the “committed” issue. Planned sounds a lot like “premeditated” and that is definitely a word association with crime. The problem I have with spontaneous is that for the person, it’s almost never spontaneous. The thoughts are there-whether the “spectators” see it or not. Spontaneous just sounds like a cop-out for people who weren’t paying attention to the signs, or who weren’t around.

Suicide fatality/Non-fatal suicide: I tried this set, and with mixed success. I think it works better than “Successful/Unsuccessful” but it’s so mechanical. This is what I expect medical professionals, counselors and other “professionals” to use. Having been in the medical field for a short time, I understand that this phrasing would come in handy for clear and precise communication-which is why I was using it. But it seems disconnected, cold and jargon-y.

Attemptee: The person who lives is often faced with more issues than they had pre-incident. And I mean that in the kindest way possible. With that in mind, as I discussed above, I’m not sure “attempt” is the right verb choice. Depression can warp the meaning of words quicker than anything else, so for the sake of the person, perhaps this isn’t something to use.

Victim: This goes back to “crime” ideology. And for that reason I can’t get behind it.

Survivor: This is the one I use for the simple fact that the definition means exactly what I want it to. (From Google: a person who survives, especially a person remaining alive after an event in which others have died). Other people may have died from the same method-and that person lived. It carries with it the same respect as it does with other things you survive: cancer, sexual assault, natural disasters, etc. And it denotes that the living is still in progress.

 

 

So, readers, what do you think? Anything I missed? Anything you agree or disagree with? What do you use to talk about suicide?

 

Raise Your Voice

This week is Suicide Prevention Week.

And that hurts. It hurts in my soul, in my heart, in the very core of who I am. 

Do something for me, okay? If you need help, reach out. If you want to talk, reach out. If you have too many feelings and not enough words, just reach out.

You aren’t alone. You aren’t.

You can do this.

And no amount of bullshit is gonna stop that from being true.

Why I Lived this is an article I wrote for The Mighty. And please believe me that I know life is hard. But if all you have is one tiny thing in your life that keeps you around, that is all you need.
From my heart to yours. From my light in the darkness to yours.

Always Keep Fighting. And I just want us to help each other.


When Push Comes to Shove


Hi there!

It’s Friday. We’ve made it to the end of the week and for that I am so exceptionally grateful. This week has taught me more than perhaps my entire first year in college altogether. I know that in the grand scheme of things I’m just experiencing the realities of the beginnings of transition (what I have dubbed the caterpillar effect). I know that all things come to those who wait. I know my future is what I make of it. I know that the sun will rise again and so will I.

I know all those things.

Depression has that weird way of making you feel like you can’t reach the things you know. For example, my most relied on quote (the bolded one above) is true, but I don’t know that I believe it. And that’s frustrating. I was up last night with a new friend who was having a panic attack and I was trying to alleviate those concerns. I know what it’s like, I completely get it. And all the while I felt my own walls caving in on me. Did I say so? Of course not. But it was there, nonetheless.

Always keep fighting. Love yourself first. You are not alone.

Those are the “tag lines” for some of the campaigns that I partake in through the Supernatural fandom. And you best believe that I’ve been chanting them over and over again since I woke up this morning. Every theme song for carrying on has been blasting through my headbuds, every inspirational quote has been read, every coping technique I know (that is healthy) has been employed. But my soul is still tired. 

And I think that’s the problem.

Being physically tired is something that often times, a day off and some peace-and-quiet can remedy. Just a break. A nap. But being emotionally, spiritually, mentally tired is something that often comes at a much steeper price. I get enough sleep everyday but my heart and soul just aren’t in “it” anymore. What do I mean by “it”? Well, at this current point-the life I’m living. I mean college and working and “adulting” and well, the total package. Let me be explicitly clear here-I am not headed down the dark and dangerous path of suicidal ideation.  I am just tired in a way that cannot easily be fixed. And I have been for quite some time.

I feel like (and this could be exaggerated because I am depressed) everything I attempt, everything I put myself out there for is getting negative feedback-denial, rejection, being ignored altogether. And that stings a little bit.  It starts to feel like just when I thought I was finding my way through this big journey called life, the universe (fate? Destiny? God(s)?) has stopped believing in me. And I’m starting to cave.

Now, I’m not trying to elicit sympathies or whatnot, as I’ve said before, this is my “journal”-one that I make public to be accountable, to share with the world so that other people may not feel so alone. 

Anyway, I people watch. I see so many people walking down the sidewalks with life in their eyes but I see every so many more who are, just like me, dead inside. And I don’t mean to be melodramatic here. You have seen it too, I’m sure. The people who catch your eye and just look completely used up and empty. Like the world has taken more than they had to give and there’s nothing left but a shell. It’s those people that I understand.

I’ve said before that I don’t feel like praying (in the traditional sense of making yourself look inferior and pleading for help) is something I can get behind. I ask things of the universe as someone who needs things-not as someone unworthy of receiving them. But this past week has seen me asking in every way possible. I’ve even starting asking Angels and Ancestors. I’m starting to feel…desperate.

And I think that’s something a lot of people can relate to. Life isn’t something you can control. You just minimize damage and plan for the best case scenario.

If you take nothing else from this rant, take this:

You may be feeling these things too. You may have left depression in the past, or be waiting for it in your future. But you most definitely aren’t the only person like that. It can’t rain (metaphorically) forever.

After All This Time.

Greetings all! It’s been a while, and for that I am sorry. Today isn’t going to be a news day, it is going to be a catch-up day. By that, I most definitely mean a checklist of things for me to think about.

First, thank you new followers, old followers, people who occasionally comment and like, and people who read my stuff and think “huh, not bad”. I appreciate it. Quite a lot, in fact.

My senior year has started! Today is day three and it has most definitely been busy-busy. I feel incredibly “active” always and it’s only just started.

My senior year in college oddly mirrors that of my high school one. And that kinda concerns me. I mean, not because I’m naive about life and have no idea what’s in store, but because of this weird funk that I’ve been in these past few weeks. As a senior in high school, I’d have been one of the first people to laugh out the word “senioritis”. I’d have meant it, believed in it, used it as a saving power if ever I needed a day to myself. The college version? Depression. Crap. That’s no good.

I was watching a YouTube video by HeyoDamo about how he lost his job to depression. And he said the words (I’m mostly paraphrasing): I thought that my depression was because I was unemployed. I got a job doing what I love and I had those same feelings come back and get worse and worse…There were times when I just “checked out”.

I can completely understand. Education is wrapped into my ego, into how I define myself. At the age of three (according to my parents) I told them I needed to go to school. I cried the first time I got an A- because I thought I’d failed. (That was second grade.) And I knew I was going to college because that’s what smart people do. The thing is, about the time August started, I got sucked into this pit of depression and I’m clawing my way out (I think).

I haven’t written in so long because I felt I had nothing to say. I mean, I wrote a post about being depressed, but it’s carried over. And I want to define the parameters of it today. *Monster by Imagine Dragons*

Okay then. We need some background, I think. I’ll list it instead of paragraphs because the factors are numerous. 

-A lot of balls in the air: my proposal still hasn’t had a decision made, my financial aid is still being finalized, my LSAT score is low for my GPA, applications are very expensive, my husband and I might not be going to the same grad school (or even state).

-The feeling of inadequacy: I posted about my “Van Gogh feelings”, but include in here my weight, my stress management and my inability to control the “balls in the air”.

-Underlying factors: low self-esteem, senior year jitters, mental health conditions and just “stress”

I’m taking a full semester of classes. Four of my six classes are required, two are electives.  And I like about half of those classes (electives included). So here’s the problem. I call it my “crisis of conscience”.

I know I will save lives beyond my mental capacity following my law school path. I will leave the world feeling like I made the difference I always wanted to. And I do. I want to fix so many problems.I absolutely can too. I know it.

But.

There is some small piece of me, that however selfishly, still needs to run away. And I don’t mean in a literal sense, but in a “I want to do what makes me happy” kind of way. 

Instead of getting into the specifics (because I haven’t necessarily found a conclusion to that dilemma) I’m just going to say this:

Senior year is supposed to be the year of memories, of mistakes, of changes which will affect my whole life. But for right now at least, it just feels like I’m repeating lines I said years ago, making decisions I’ve made before and returning to a life I’m pretty sure I spent the last 5 years trying to escape from.

Depression is crap. But the sun will rise again, and so must I.