I finally started one. My amazingly awesome therapist gave me a journal with (insert quote here) written on it. This quote gave me some thing to think about… And the end result of that thinking was to give me a journal that’s a simple list of what Ive done. This is something that I have neglected to focus on or even acknowledge for a long time. I review this journal second thing(meds come first) I. The morning. Its helping me move towards getting out of bed before work so that my life is more then laying in bed and work. I’m feeling really happy about this and am considering posting this list as a photograph on twitter, but I’m not sure if I’d be OK with making it public, or of it would just feel like too much work.
It was a dark and stormy night. The road that was going to lead me home was an unsafe one, that had rock slides and sheer cliffs. My friend refused to let me take that one, so I took the safer route. It’s still a mountain pass, but no sheer drops, 3 lanes in each direction, and much straighter. So, I thought that all would be good.
There was a car to my left, and rocks all over the road. Running over one of them left my tire punctured and my rim broken. Thankfully I had a spare in the back of my car. In a crying panic I called my friend.
I was sitting in my locked car, waiting for them to rescue me when the wrong car pulled behind me, A man in a yellow rain suite then shined a mag light into my window. He was highway patrol. He was professional. but that doesn’t help me at all. I’m triggered by law enforcement, as well as car problems. Just as he left, another vehicle with far too many lights pulled up in front of me. I was already at a 10. He was a nice man who changed my tire for 60 dollars.
This let me go on my way and I made it home. Now I;m not copying well while waiting for a replacement rim.
This part is much harder then the first part in the car becouse no one seems to get it… Im cut off from all of my safe places. I cant just toss a few items in the car and take off. I feel at times like I did when my now ex boyfriend wuld take his care and leae me withonlthe stick sift that I couldnt drive.
Being on Zoloft feels like waking up in an overly bright, cold room wrapped up in a soft fuzzy electric blanket. Nothing except how comfortable it is to lay in bed matters… Until you have to open your eyes get out of bed and go pee. Then the only thing worth doing is going back to bed.
The problem with this? The actions that Raoult result are mostly negative. I don’t go out and do things. I don’t make anything. I don’t want to do Anything. I only go to work or school. I don’t make plans, I don’t make the needed changes in my life.
Yet my doctors think that this is fine, and normal…. Every. Single. One.
They ignore that my chosen profession is photography, and it’s not productive for that.
To sum it up:
Zoloft is bad for me.
Creating stuff is good for me.
I used to know how to do it. It was really, really easy. I knew what I wanted, and I made choices that would best get that. Now, I find that what I wan isn’t as clear. Or, more accurately, I want 3 different things that I can’t have all at the same time. I want a steady, safe adequate income. I also want physical and emotional comfort. I also want to be paid for my creative work. But I want them all now.
The easiest way to have a steady, safe and adequate income is to become a phlobotomist. Unfortunately that makes the physical and emotional comfort go out the window, while at the same time slowing down my ability to do anything that will get me paid for doing creative work.
I could go for the physical and emotional comfort, but right now that would require me to spend lots and lots of time in bed, watching TV, and working at a dead end job that may fall throughout by the middle of next month. I would also not do much of anything, becouse right now, everything hurts to do.. and I do mean everything.
Or I could get on and try doing creative work that may or may not make me money. This is the option that I want to do for me, in the long run. It’s also the physically hardest, and the emotional hardest. This one requires me overcoming pain, and my physical limitations, and stretching my self emotionally. Growing pains. I hate growing pains.
I think I want to do option 3. It’s the one that I dream about. When I’m laying in bed, achieving number 2, it’s what I wish I was doing. It lights up the part of me that got me to start this blog. But I still don’t know if I should be doing number one instead. I really want that income. It will let me purchase stuff that will make it easier for me to do number 3.
I guess the real questions is: Do I go back to school so I can earn more money while I achieve my dreams, or do I pour my self into the dreams? And how do I make sure that I am working towards my dreams above all else? how do I overcome the “It hurts I just don’t want to hurt anymore?” (this is impossible btw. no matter what, I can’t get away from pain.)
I’ve gained 10 pounds in one month due to overeating and inactivity. Some of it has been stress eating, some has been celebrating.My activity outside of work has turned into laying down in bed for the most part. I’ll lay there reading, or watching streaming video on my iPad. That or I go to therapy. But my job is really physical, and it makes me be on my feet and moving. This movement has likely stopped me from getting even fatter.
So, I know how to make my self loose weight. I get more active… I sit and read instead of laying down. I spend more time working on projects, even if they are ones that are really sedentary. That would be things like writing, and interacting with people. In a week, my body would have lost enough weight for the pain to stop. It really is that simple for me. But I have to want to do it. That’s the problem for me. Being my currant weight is doing something for me.
It’s keeping men from flirting with me. I don’t want the guy who’s my age and really, really cute and nice flirting. It’s not a good time for me to be meeting that kind of person right now. I don’t want the guy who’s old and jobless. I never, ever, ever want him in my life. Unless he’s really rich and looking to marry me. Then I’ll consider it. Lets say that I made it through the cheese/insulting line, and I go to turn him down. There’s a good chance that I will receive a fairly uncivil reaction from the guy. This part scares me too. I’ve seen far too many guys who arn’t ok with me not wanting anything to do with him.
Do I really need to put up with that kind of crap from guys? Do they really need to be mostly assholes who won’t take a “I’m not interested” as an answer? Unfortunately, the case to both of them is yes, yes I do. The worst part is that the world I live in has said that this is both acceptable, normal, and good. This needs to change.
When I was a kid, food was always an issue. My dad apparently didn’t believe in eating breakfast, or lunch. Of course there cereal, but the milk would be spoiled, or all gone. There would be no tea to drink, only black coffee. The sugar was gone so often that I didn’t bother to check for it, and the milk.. already covered. So, there was nothing but toast but the jelly would have mold on it. of course my Dad didn’t think that there was a problem with eating moldy food, so sometimes the bread would be moldy also. That left me with little to eat for lunch. Lucky for me, there were a few smart teachers who would call my Dad, and make sure that I was given both breakfast and lunch at school. But that didn’t start until they figured out that I was using my birthday money on food.
When I got older, things got a little better. I started cooking, and thus got leftovers for lunch. That became cool when I got to high school because I would eat good for me food, and my friends wanted to be healthy. The problem then became getting proper food. There was a period of a few months where my diet was almost nothing but shitty iceberg lettous. I was still at the age where I needed a work permit, my parents wouldn’t sign it without me handing over my paycheck. I didn’t have a place that I could have hide the money safely. My room was considered fair game for searches. So, I wasn’t given food that had any nutritional value, and I didn’t have a single safe person who was willing to help me get it.
On top of this, I was always told that I was “fat” and my dad gave me various pills. They got flushed. I know, that’s bad to do with them, but It’s what I had to do. I didn’t want to take them. My problem wasn’t that I needed pills, I needed food that was healthy. If I ate too much, I was fat. If I ate too little, then I was being disrespectful for not liking the food.
So, I’ve already had food issues. This is only the ground work for the real problem. My last exboyfriend refused to eat anything that i cooked after a little while. He would then get offended if I didn’t like or eat the food that he made, or wanted to go out and eat. But I wanted healthy food, not fat and sugar filled stuffs. But, I let him cook, and I gained weight. As this happened, he got steadily more abusive. I don’t know if it was about my weight, or if it was about him being an asshole. But, it happened.
Then, earlier on the night he attacked me, he odored a pizza for us… one with meat on it… despite it being the one that I was paying for, and it was celebrating for me, and I don’t like meat on pizza. I like vegetables, and lots of them. He knew this, yet disregarded my tastes at my celebration, on my dime…
so, now the girl who has post-tratamic-stress can’t handle sitting down with a group of people and eating. So, I’m skipping Thanksgiving this year. I will not force my self into an experience that is high pressure, and likely to end bad with people who won’t understand. I say that because the ones who do understand let me just say “not this year” and answer with “ok” or “I understand” or “I’m here to talk about it.”
The is something wrong in the world. I want ,to change it. I want this world to be a better place for most people…
I want to be treated like a person, not a sex object, or a resource.
I want regular uninterrupted sleep.
I want to be given the authority and resources to do my job well.
I want access to work that pays a living wage.
I most of all, I want this to be normal for everyone to have it. I want this to be the standard of normal. The list could go on, but this is what I’m dealing with at the moment, and what is on my mind.