Monthly Archives: February 2015

Music as a means of connecting

I finally looked up the lyrics to this song. I had first heard it several months ago, and really liked some of the words. Last night in the car, it came on my ipod, and I listened harder this time. Pretty much the whole song spoke to me…

Crash by Esthero

Crash down on the floor, hold your breath and fall apart.
You made a simple mistake and now you’re paying for it with your heart.
Some of us make our own beds, we can’t afford to lay in them.
Remember I always have said you should leave me alone.

‘cause I don’t wanna crash, now I’m afraid
That I’m going nowhere way too fast.
And I can’t hear what you say, I’m in a conversation with my past.
And maybe it wasn’t the brave so much as brazen but it got me through.
And somehow the path that I’ve paved just keeps leading me to you.

But I don’t wanna crash now,
Don’t wanna crash now.

I should have never been afraid to lay you down,
I just wanna hold you in my arms again.
If only for a moment I could have you here.
Lady, I would never let you go.

‘cause I don’t wanna crash now,
I don’t wanna crash now.

Come on in the sun,
When you’re scared, you can face it down.
‘cause here I am, you are not alone.

Keep facing the sun, you’ll reach it one day,
Blame it on the back ‘till you can watch with me
And you mean to be free.
And when the sun goes down, there’s still tomorrow,
Don’t you be afraid to let your sorrow breathe.
Your strength is all you need.

Did you ever know you were the one?
‘cause I can hardly even tell.

a day ahead

Ever since Thursday afternoon, I have felt like it should be a day ahead of what it actually is.

Today feels like it should be Sunday…

I’m not totally sure why this is. I’m on pins and needles for Tuesday because I will get money again. I think I feel trapped without any cash. If I had money, I could go to the beach, or hang with friends, or buy food I’ve been craving…

Finances are a huge contributor to my depression…

And if it were Tuesday, I could try again with TM and hopefully settle the misunderstandings I think are going on.

And I could go out to dinner with my friends… I miss having social contact.

RIP Leonard Nimoy :(

As a life-long geek and ST fan, I’m saddened by the news that Mr. Nimoy has passed away…

Check out this Little Things blog entry in honor of the life and work of an icon.

can’t get out of my own way again

Spent the session with TM pretty checked-out. I didn’t know how to ask for a reality check around what I interpreted as her being sad and tired today, so I didn’t bring up any of what I had intended to. She took that as disengaging in therapy and as me being more depressed and tired… to a degree she is correct, I am totally exhausted with everything on my plate. but I also don’t know how to bring my concerns to her right now. It felt safer for a while, but the last two sessions have not felt that way. I tried to tell her that there is stuff I want to bring to her to talk about during the week, but when actually faced with the prospect of talking about it, it’s suddenly very not safe to address anything. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the courage to admit that till the end of the session, so we didn’t talk more about it… I want to leave her a message, but I am afraid she will pick up the phone if I call while she’s still in the office for the day, so I will leave one tonight after she goes home.

I see her again on Tuesday (finally back to the original schedule), but I am very tempted to bow out of therapy for the time being. I don’t know how to make it feel safe in the time we have left…

I’m supposed to find some structure for myself between now and Tuesday. Dunno. I think I’m just stuck.


Aside of trying to remember to write or draw in session, think I’m going to show this to her. I did it tonight, in the sketch book vs the art journal (less pressure to have something put-together and presentable in this thing –> easier expression). Hoping this helps vs the huge wall of text I have going on in my journal to her…

There’s also a rough concept sketch from last week, but for whatever reason it didn’t feel like something I could show her. I didn’t even remember I had done it till just now looking into the art journal. I guess I need things to feel “finished” in there to remember doing them in the moment.

they are trying to make your head explode…

**WARNING: Whiney Rant**

So, I went looking into my Medicare options, as I become eligible in May… I swear, they are trying to make your head explode with it all so they don’t ever actually have to cover you.

To keep my prefered providers (ones I feel safe and comfortable with, and ones I am not willing to change), I have to pay an additional $200 on top of what they already take out… and then I have to pay $50-75 in copays per visit. If I could afford the $500/month for private-pay therapy, I would be doing it and not wasting the additional money on extra insurance… oh, and they don’t pay much for any meds or emergencies or preventative care… and if I want vision and dental, I have to pay MORE… But it’s a “Premium” plan (meaning I get to pay them a ton of money for the privilege of paying them more money when I go see my Dr. It doesn’t give me better coverage, they just want me to believe I’m getting a better deal while giving them half of my monthly income. The deductible is 10k?! seriously?? That leaves me what, 2k for the year? Thanks).

The providers I want to keep are covered by the insurance plans from “regular” insurance with these companies, but they are not covered by the Medicare versions from the same companies… Oh, and I need referrals for all mental health treatment to make sure it’s “medically necessary” though I am on disability for mental health reasons…

If I don’t sign up for one of these plans, I get a penalty (no additional drug coverage) and still have to get Part B. If I sign up for a plan, I have to pay through the nose for services I need and theoretically should be able to access because it’s for treatment related to my disability. And despite having found someone competent that I could actually possibly see for more than 4 months, I can’t access them as a provider because Medicare doesn’t like to give you freedom of choice. When provider comfort is imperative for effective treatment, not allowing choice without huge financial burden is just irresponsible.

Can I cry now?

am I reading into things?

How do you not take it personally when you reach out to “friends” and they just don’t respond? I know everyone gets distracted and has their own lives and whatnot, but… :sigh: Certain friends will respond, but there are others that seem to just ignore me. I try hard to keep my crap under wraps. I try to be polite and friendly and cordial unless you ask me genuinely how I am doing. So what am I doing wrong?

There are three people I have contacted lately that have simply ignored me. There’s no acknowledgement of the call (or text or message). I’m not going to break if you tell me you are busy or not in the mood to hang out. I understand both of those states of being. I’m ok with that, but at least please acknowledge that I tried to contact you… and don’t continually invite me to call to hang out if you don’t actually mean it. :/

today’s grounding activity: the beach (more pics added)

wpid-20150223_162516_024.jpgSo, in an effort not to sleep all day today, I dragged myself kicking and screaming to the beach (not really, but damn near close to kicking and screaming, because all I wanted to do was curl up in bed all day)… I plopped in the sand for a while, then decided to take a walk down south to try something different. I walked just over 5 miles total, and it was nice. The beach was mostly empty since those up north got screwed out of February vacation. I plugged my music in, rolled up my jeans (yes, I went to the beach in jeans…), and trucked it up and down the shore. I had wanted to go from pier to pier which would have given me an 8 mile round-trip, but I turned around just after 2.6 miles. My lungs were starting to hurt.

Along the way, I thought I passed De running with a friend. I couldn’t tell for sure, but it might have been her. The woman smiled, waved, and said hello to me. No one else on the beach did that, so I’m assuming she knew me or thought she knew me. It would have been easy for her to recognize me because I have a pretty distinctive and large dragon tattoo on my right leg… I know De is a runner, and at one point we had discussed her penchant for running on the beach at least a few times a week… I’m not sure if I really want to know whether or not it was actually her. On the one hand, it would have been nice to see her, on the other… ugh. transference city. So I stared at the sand as I walked past her a second time. I did turn to look afterwards, but the hair seemed too light in color… :shrugs: I dunno…

Anyway, the beach was fun (let’s ignore that every other step came with the thoughts: I wonder if there are sufficient rip currents today? If I wandered in fully clothed, could I drown myself? If I push myself hard enough on the beach, can I induce an asthma attack or cardiac issue that would mean my death? – coz let’s face it; I don’t think I’ll ever be free of those types of thoughts. As that Hyperbole & a Half panel states: It’s not that I want to necessarily *kill* myself, I just want to become dead somehow).  I then treated myself to ice cream. I had thought about sushi, but the place was more expensive than the $4 ice cream (or at least that is what I am going to tell myself. shhh….)

I watched the sunset while eating my ice cream, and I chatted with L through text. It was a nice change of pace; that “pattern interrupt” that TM was looking for. Thank you S.G. (of Girl in Therapy) for convincing me to go! ❤



A new day. Another start. Sitting on the patio watching the fog dissipate with the rising sun. The ducks are wandering around, following each other and swimming and doing duck things. I’m taking this moment to try to center before the bustle of the day gets too-fast underway…
I’ve listened to TM’s voice mail greeting twice already. I can’t bring myself to leave her a message. I don’t want to be one of the first few things she walks back into the office to on Wednesday (and I still have no concept of what to even say).
The pile of orchids are happy to be back outside after their stint indoors for the freezing nights we had last week. They seem to be adapting well to life outdoors, and actually seem to prefer it. Maybe I need to take a page from that book and trying camping for a few days… they say a week in nature without electronics resets the circadian rhythm. Mine is very much off right now, so maybe that would be good. Only I’m not that adept at camping, nor am I confident that I could go the week without my connection to the outside world at this point.
I missed celebrating National Margarita Day again. Oops…

Going in circles, with the wind knocked out of me

I feel like I’ve been hit square in the chest with a wrecking ball. The wind has been knocked out of me. I’d reach out, but the thing behind the ball is also choking off my voice; it’s a vice around my throat that causes the air to stick and the words to become trapped (not that I know what the words should even be).

I’ve started and deleted dozens of posts, starts to chats, journal entries… I’ve gone in circles with the concept of calling the hotline, or talking to L, or opening up to online friends. Each ends the same way: an inability to voice anything meaningful or sendable.

I’m very much stuck with these newest of the new flashbacks. I can’t rid my mouth of the taste of sweat and nicotine, my nose of the smell of shit and stale cigarette smoke. I’ve tried leaving the house and distracting. I’ve tried comfort food. I’ve cuddled the puppies. I’ve gone for a walk. I’m listening to music… and I’m struggling to communicate. My attention span for reading is nil. I can’t even bring myself to turn on the television.

It feels like there’s an elephant on my chest and a lump in my throat. My thoughts are at once numb and emotionally overwhelming. I don’t know what to do with this. If I could find the courage to call the hotline maybe I could communicate how stuck I am. Maybe they could help me get unstuck. But there’s no momentum to be able to get me over the hump of actually hitting send on the call…

I sit here as my body betrays me all over again in new ways. The worst right now is the old, unwanted arousal from the memories. It was unwanted then, and it’s unwanted now, yet it’s here. It’s surrounded in shame and guilt and pain. Intellectually, I understand the body can respond regardless of desire. Emotionally; fuck you body. You suck. I hate you… (please stop).

10 things no one ever told you about life after sexual abuse

saw this on fb tonight and thought I would share.

10 Things no one Ever Told you About Life After Sexual Abuse

on vulnerability and being human

Brene Brown’s voice came up as “soothing” when I asked elsewhere who people thought had soothing voices. I couldn’t remember if I had ever heard her voice, so I threw her name into a google search. Up came the 2010 TEDxHouston talk on Vulnerability…

It kinda connects in topic (or maybe listening to what she was saying sparked a thought that led to a thought that led to remembering) to this blog post from Inner Canvas (a blog by an art therapist for therapists about utilizing creativity in their practice). Specifically, I’m thinking of the quote with which she starts the entry:

“Our profession is the only profession that gives you 5-6 chances to feel like a failure every day.”  Scott Miller

While I haven’t bothered to look up who Scott Miller is, I think this quote speaks not only to vulnerability, but also to the humanity of therapists. They are people, not “gods” or “robots” or anything else impervious and impenetrable we may conjure when thinking of them. This is something of which I often need reminding. I find myself at once understanding that therapists have their own lives with trials and tribulations, yet forgetting that they have emotions in reaction to not only their lives, but also to what we (as clients) bring to session with us. I’m remembering the recent session with TM where I was disclosing something I felt little emotion about, but to which I thought I saw an emotional reaction from her. In the same moment, I felt a fear that I would break her with the “truth of who I am” but also hoped that she was immune to the darkness that leaks from me… I’m expecting her to be stronger than I am against all of the “gunk” in me, but I’m also afraid that what I express will break her apart as badly as it has both myself and others…

I hope with all my heart that my vulnerabilities do not mirror her own because then they may actually break her. I worry about that with everyone and anyone with whom I let down my guard and allow to see the mess inside. Yet I’m reminded of something TL had said to me in session one day; “you’ll be surprised how many people appear once you begin to be genuine with who you are to the world.” She was speaking of that same concept of vulnerability Brene Brown talks of in her presentation at TEDxHouston…

Therapists become vulnerable daily when they invite us to show them our pain. While it’s different in quality to the vulnerability we present as clients, it’s vulnerability none-the-less…

…and because I saw she had another talk up from TED2012, I thought I’d listen to that too… I’m not done, but there was one quote I wanted to include here: “vulnerability is not a weakness”… can we get this in neon, blinking lights please? because I know I have a lot of trouble with this concept. Here’s the whole talk in case anyone is interested:

that “therapist” voice…

This morning I woke up stressing, so I figured I’d call TM’s voice mail just to hear her voice (I do that sometimes when I’m stressing about things. There’s something grounding about hearing a therapist’s voice. It can be calming, but generally only once they feel like “safe” people). Her message was longer than usual because she is out of town this weekend, so I had more to listen to. As the message went on, I realized she has one of those voices – one that just oozes calm. She’s got a “therapist voice”… She could make a guided meditation track, and it would be totally convincing and calming. Heck, she could probably read a recipe for making chocolate chip cookies and it would still sound like a guided meditation, lol! It’s a voice that makes you want to hear her speak all day just so you can listen. Hmm, maybe I need to convince her to record a guided meditation for me…

I’ve been told by a few people that I have a soothing voice. L calls it my “therapist voice”. It generally comes about when I am finding my center to counteract the stress coming at me from my environment. I’m ashamed to admit that I had almost forgotten about that skill. I also never really knew what they could have meant by it until this morning. I knew I spoke differently when trying to reflect calm, but I didn’t really have a concept of what it sounded like to others.

Not all therapists have this kind of voice though. In fact, I’ve only met a small handful of people who can be calming and relaxing simply by speaking (JF, TM, a professor I had in college, and maybe 2 other people)… but now I think I get what L means when she says I sometimes have a “therapist voice.”  I also need to make a concerted effort to find it again. I think it goes hand in hand with my long-lost skill of listening, and of channeling calm. I used to have those skills. I need to find them all again. I’m sure they are here somewhere, but they are lost under the clutter of everything else. I need to dust them off and put them back into practice.

the world through gray-colored funhouse glasses

My anxiety is creeping up. I can’t stop the restlessness, so I’m trying to breathe through it. I made flan de coco. I have been bouncing around this evening… I barely paid attention to the recipe as I was cooking. Now I want it to just be finished.

Struggling with how I’m interpreting Thursday’s session. Trying not to read too much into it, but I keep having to remind myself of the actual words said, and not spin them into something else in my head. It’s difficult. Everything is viewed through this really distorted lens of how everyone should hate me (because I hate me)… :/

TM wanted me to ask L for a list of 3 or 4 things that she liked about me. L was more than happy to oblige, and she did so within a matter of minutes. She said it reminded  her of something J would have us do… I read her list and told her she was full of it, and we both laughed. I have a lot of trouble accepting that anyone would love me.

I had all this extra time to think about it, and I can’t come up with a list for L. There’s all this stuff I thought about, but I worry it would not sound genuine. I expect her to react to it like I did, so I don’t want to give it to her. She was so courageous in giving her list to me even though she knew I would summarily reject it. I’m not that brave…

It must suck to live with me and try to love me.

trying by lifehouse

saw this posted elsewhere tonight… don’t think I’ve heard it before, but the lyrics are good… (definitely like the lyrics better than the song)…

Could you let down your hair
Be transparent for a while, just a little while
To see if you’re human after all

Honesty is a hard attribute to find
When we all want to seem like
We’ve got it all figured out

Well let me be the first to say that I don’t have a clue
I don’t have all the answers
Ain’t gonna to pretend like I do

Just trying
To find my way
To find my way the best I know how

Well I haven’t memorized all of the cute things to say
But I’m working on it
Maybe I’ll master this art form someday
If I quote all the lines off the top of my head
Would you believe
That I fully understand all these things I’ve read

I’m just trying
To find my way
To find my way
To find my way the best that I know how

Well I haven’t got it all figured out quite yet but
Even if it takes my whole life to get to where I need to be
And if I should fall to the bottom of the end
I’ll be one step back to you, and

I’m trying to find my way
Trying to find my way

I’m trying to find my way
Trying to find my way…

your firefighter (link to outside blog)

Want to save this for later, since I can’t concentrate enough to read it right now…

😦 :/ 😦 …

when therapy doesn’t follow your script

Had session today. it was difficult again at the end, but in a good way I guess. only TM seems to want to aim for covering “the interpersonal stuff” more so than the trauma details… She was under the impression that I had covered it in therapy before. Nope. I told her I hadn’t actually touched on any of it but the DuckBoy stuff, and that had only happened for the first, real time with De (I had mentioned the concept in passing to other T’s, but hadn’t looked at it until I started seeing De in 2013)… Unfortunately, this was at the end of the session that had already run long, and I was shutting down because of what we did talk about.

We still didn’t cover the narrative. We did talk about some of the fears around it, and some of the emotional content, but didn’t really talk about *it*. Fuck. Because I had kinda really needed to talk about it… Again, while the stuff we covered was important, I’m still carrying the anxiety of the narrative around for at least another week. She also kinda gave me the impression that we may not ever go over it. 😦 So much for asking her to help keep me on track with that stuff.

We were supposed to go back to the Tuesday thing next week, but she will be out of town. Thursday it is.

I don’t think it helps that I have been physically feeling like ass lately. I think it’s mostly stress and anxiety, but I went to the doctor anyway because my inhaler hasn’t been working. She said she couldn’t hear anything in my lungs, no wheezing or rasping. Good I guess, but it doesn’t explain the chest tightness and inability to breathe properly. It also doesn’t explain why I’m winded simply from walking around the house. She said to keep an eye on it and go back if it gets worse. It may be a flu thing brewing. I really don’t want to be sick right now, so I hope it’s just the cold snap we are having these past few days…

Anyway, I’m trying not to be too disappointed by therapy. I’m glad I talked to her about the stuff I did, but it qualifies as “getting distracted”. I’m not sure I know how to keep pushing for the trauma work. Part of me still really wants to cover it, but another part knows that to do so I would need more time and support. I guess I just need to be fine with whatever this turns out to be. And maybe I need to be ok with never actually disclosing details or talking about them (even if it would help the flashbacks subside)… I couldn’t ever communicate them when they started, why should that change now?

can’t concentrate

it’s so frustrating. I can’t concentrate on anything. I’m exhausted, my legs hurt, my back hurts, my asthma is acting up… ugh. it just all needs to stop.

I hope it’s better by my appointment with TM. there’s too much to cover for me to be so useless.

what is this?

My emotions have been all over the place lately. I again woke to wanting to bawl my eyes out. I know my lack of real sleep probably has something to do with it. The insomnia is creeping back. I’ve only gotten around 5 hours a night for the past 3 or 4 nights. Even if I take something to help me sleep, I wake after about 5 hours of dreaming and poor sleep. :/ If I take something stronger for sleep, I’m still out of it the next day, but my quality of sleep has not improved.

I’m on a crazy scribble of an emotional rollercoaster. I cycle fast with no real triggers that I can identify. It feels like I’m going through all the possible options in a program without finding one I can settle on. It’s very frustrating.

My coping skills are not working well (or I’m not in a place to be able to allow myself to benefit from them). Writing feels circular and useless. My brain feels heavy and wet and useless. I look at art I want to do, even if it’s just copying a reference picture, and my brain shrinks back; “nope, not gonna do it. no”… I want to even just scribble, but judgement, frustration, and (fear?) take over. I’m stuck.

I can’t pay attention to anything. I can’t focus for very long. Even music feels overwhelming right now (though I continue to pump it through my headphones).

Ugh. Come on brain, body… figure your shit out already.

Dearest Someone, I’m gunna show you crazy.

This song had me laughing! I know it’s not supposed to be funny, but … well, guess I’m a little crazy 😉
Also check out the blog “Dearest Someone”, just found it tonight and I like it a lot.

Dearest Someone,

Music is a big thing for me – it influences me a lot, down to the point where it affects the way I think, and I can listen to music when I’m in any type of mood. When I was first diagnosed with PTSD I started using Spotify to create playlists – notably one called ‘Lightbulb’ in which I added songs that pretty much summed up how I felt, or helped make me view things from a different perspective.

Nowadays I still listen to Spotify on a daily basis – but I’ve started listening to the playlists made by others. Listening to one of the playlists that includes all the latest hits I stumbled across this song:

(It does include a lot of swearing so be cautious.)

Bebe Rexha – I’m Gunna Show You Crazy

The thing is I know there’s a lot of swearing etc. but the lyrics really…

View original post 146 more words

Cosmic Weirdness

So, JF returned my call. She remembered me, though not specifics around what I asked. She acknowledged that, though it was a long time ago, she would have remembered if that was something I had brought to her and we spent time on it. She did remember the DuckBoy stuff…
She also said it was “cosmic weirdness” that I left her a message because she had just been thinking of me on her way home yesterday. She was surprised to come in to find my voice mail this morning.

Still restless. Still not sure what to do with myself, but I might be shedding some happy tears ♡ there’s something to be said for speaking to someone who saw you at your worst and still thinks you are an ok person. Thank you JF.



dunno. feel lost and restless today. I should shower. I should do something…

anxiety’s building and I need a distraction.

Healing Quotes Littles 435

Love this. It speaks volumes of that need to at times simply have reassurance the other is still there…

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. “Pooh?” he whispered.
“Yes, Piglet?”
“Nothing,” said Piglet, taking Pooh’s hand. “I just wanted to be sure of you.”
~ A. A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

Hyperbole & a Half is great

so, a friend passed this along… I chuckle at it not so much because it’s funny (though it is), but maybe because it’s kinda true… (I could picture this being me speaking to L or TM or mom or anyone else asking about it… actually have probably said similar things, but she put better)


I’m not sure where on the site she found it, but look on Hyperbole & a Half to find it and more like it.


It’s hard to share the pain, but it’s even harder to carry it alone. – “Jordy”


so true…

note to self:

  • There’s a very good chance she will not have the answers I am looking for.
  • There’s a very good chance she doesn’t remember me, let alone specifics (It’s been 13 years since I last saw her).
  • It doesn’t mean I’m totally worthless if she does not remember me or what we talked about.
  • It’s ok if she doesn’t call back.
  • Yes, that relationship meant a ton to me, but it did not hold the same weight for her (nor should it have).

Dear one of my first therapists…

Dear JF,
do you remember me?  If I called with questions, would you 1) be willing to talk to me about them? 2) even remember anything about me from that long ago?
Things have come up, and I wonder if they are true. Would you at least be able to tell me if I mentioned it to you?
You would probably not be surprised to find out I’m still a mess. I have not made anything out of my life. I’m still pathetic and a looser…
would you want to know I still remember you? Would you care that stuff you said still impacts me in a positive way? Would it be weird if I told you that first time you hugged me and didn’t let me go right away both scared me and made me feel like someone cared for the first time in a long time? I hope I didn’t contaminate you… I hope your daughters are doing well. I’m not sure why I think you have 2, because I’m not sure how I would know you had a second one… I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything but cry when you told me you were pregnant. I really did think you’d make a great mom…
if I tried to contact you with my questions, would you respond at all even if you didn’t know the answers?
Should I take the risk? I think I could leave you a voice mail if I could dig up your contact info… but I’d be afraid to tell you that I’m still stuck, that I didn’t do anything meaningful with myself.  I’m still a failure, and any accomplishments listed under my name feel fake. I have no connection to them, I was faking it all along. Apparently I could fool everyone enough to let me graduate and find jobs and move ahead. I guess I’m really good at faking it. Still haven’t made it though. Don’t want to have to admit that, because you tried so hard to get me to believe in myself. 😦
would you believe I finally admitted to myself that the DuckBoy stuff wasn’t my choice, and wasn’t ok? It took 18 years, but I’m starting to deal with it. I remember talking to you about it, and you trying to tell me it wasn’t ok and it wasn’t my fault… I finally believe you (most of the time)…
I lost the little glass stone you gave me “for protection, even from [myself]”… I didn’t mean to. It slipped out of my pocket and into the space next to the emergency break in my car. I tore the car apart looking for it (literally. some pieces don’t fit right anymore. Oops). I still have this sliver of hope that I will find it some day. I might pay someone to dismantle the car so I can double-check everywhere…
thank you for believing in me, and for putting up with me even when I’m sure you wished you could pound sense into me…
I miss you a lot sometimes. Now is one of those times…
hope you are well. You may get a message from me, though I’m not sure I would ask for a call back because I’m afraid I wouldn’t get one. I’m not memorable for anything good, so you are probably really happy I’m long gone…
anyway. Yeah. I miss you.
Thanks for all you did. It really did make a difference, even if it didn’t look like it at the time…



(I left a message at her office. here’s hoping she will return the call and maybe be able to help out with my questions…)

Happy Sunday morning… :/

Woke to a desire to cut and cry my eyes out. Also noticed I only had 5 hours of sleep :/
Hoping coffee and TV helps tame it some.





nope… didn’t help. less than 4 hours later and I’m cooked. is it ok to just be cooked? is it ok to not have any energy for this today? coz I don’t have energy for this today…

Depression comix

I forgot how much I loved… it explains everything so well in a few short frames… I really like 76, 84, 135… I started back there looking for one to show a friend and ended up flipping through almost a hundred of them.

Hyperbole and a Half is another good comic about depression, but not as succinct as depression comix.


I came to an understanding earlier today, and in an attempt not to harass TM about it, I’m going to share here.

Even the worst consequences of my self harm were still emotionally safer than anything that was done to me in the past. Without really consciously realizing it, I think I was trying to change the outcome of the abuse. In a way, it did work. The memories of seeking help from someone I trusted are easier to handle than the memories of abuse that carry similar physical sensations…

It’s not the healthiest or safest way to accomplish the task, but it was effective.