Thank you in advance for your time; time is our most precious asset, so thank you for investing your asset into my work.
My husband shared with me that I tend to bull doze over his needs. And Damn that hit hard. I don’t want to be that type of partner.
Thank you, Goddess, for giving Patrick the courage to share his feelings with me. I am profoundly grateful for his courage to setting the framework for boundaries. I’m so, so proud of him. I’m infinitely grateful to be one half of our whole.
Thank you in advance for keeping Patrick’s needs a fore thought until it becomes second-nature. Thank you in advance for forgiving myself for bull dozing Patrick’s needs; my needs were bull dozed as a child. It’s the only thing I’ve known my whole life. I’m doing my best.
Thank you in advance for a change in my career by entering the law field. Thank you in advance for the opportunity with B’s divorce law office. Thank you in advance for my sponge mind to soak up all of the information for experience. Thank you in advance for the practical knowledge of law, going into law school.
Thank you in advance for the double money during 21 DOB. I am grateful that K contacted me for that time frame, and that she’s willing to work around my schedule at the law firm.
Thank you in advance for allowing that extra income to fund my Maritime Tour. Thank you in advance for a Very Newfie Christmas in Nova Scotia, with Linda, Eric, Dave, Sandra, Scott, and Mayvis and Jade.
Thank you in advance for our safety during Cvd Delta. We are scared of being infected by this mutated virus, and are grateful for our health.
Thank you in advance for art and creativity, for laughter, and for love. Thank you in advance for safety, financial security, and creating a successful side hustle.
I’m grateful for self-awareness, and my growing self-confidence. Thank you in advance for setting the example of confidence and tenacity, for Patrick to learn by my lead.
Thank you in advance for a manageable menstruation, and for continuous efficacy of barrier BC. We have decided to remain childless, and thank you in advance for no pregnancy.
Thank you in advance for a marvelous week, full of knowledge, newness, and creativity. Thank you for my health; I’m profoundly grateful for all of your gifts, Goddess.
So I have been actively avoiding my blog, and more importantly, writing lately.
I am not a person who can just put forth garbage just to have content. I take great pride in my work, and believe in living with integrity, even when it feels like I’m climbing Mount Kilimanjaro (cause everyone climbs fucking Everest). I am uncomfortable posting fluffy shit like all of the “Blog Babes” suggest; I give exactly 0 fucks about writing “10 Best Fashion Tips, and #7 is unbelievable!”
I’m a loudmouth, opinionated bitch. My life, up until this point, has not been fun and fuzzy. I grew up witnessing domestic abuse, and then I walked into an abusive relationship. I have epilepsy, and generalized anxiety disorder, and I’m recovering from a life-long eating disorder, and emotionally numbing in any way possible. At the age of 12, I called a teen hotline and told the person on the phone that I thought I had depression.
I had no bodily autonomy for most of my life; my body was the property of everyone else, and I had to keep it clean and pure for them.
During my first appointment with a psychiatrist, after I told her my whole story, she paused, took a breath, and stated, “It’s impressive that you’ve been suffering alone this whole time, and not in a good way.”
Translation: I am fucked up.
So. Hi again. Thanks for sticking with me thus far. I know, this started on a really depressing note, but it’s my blog and I can be a party pooper if I want. So there! 😤
But I digress.
Because I refuse to put out fluffy shit, I hardly post. Pulling that shit from within and putting the shit on paper is hard as fuck.
Looking back at that trauma is extremely difficult, not only emotionally, but the more I remember from my early teens, the more I piece together more experiences with my illness. I, too, have to open the door to the loneliness and despair that I felt then.
I look back at that little girl and it hurts to put myself back behind those melancholy eyes, and experience that trauma all over again. It’s devastating, and so unfair that this little girl, at the age of 12, knew she had depression, and yet, the adults in her life failed her.
But, I have to unpack it. If I keep shoving it into the back of the closet, with the memories of my platform Spice Girl’s shoes covered in puke (I’m still waiting for those to make a comeback), I’ll never get better, and I’ll never completely understand myself.
I’m too self-aware and anxious to let that shit fester. I need to dig it out, explore it, and de-clutter it. Like Marie Kondo says, if it doesn’t bring you joy, thank the items for their work, and let it go.
So, Imma start letting that shit go.
But I warn you: this could be some Taylor Swift type shit going forward, but if I can also make millions using old diaries and hard feelings, then let the “Swifting” begin.
PS. I cuss A LOT. Like a lot, a lot. But it’s a scientific fact that people who swear a lot have a higher pain tolerance, so who’s laughing now, mom?!
Thank you in advance for sleep, and for my body feeling rested. Thank you in advance for good health, and no seizures because of the Houston heat.
Thank you in advance for financial prosperity, million dollar ideas, business growth, and connections. I’m grateful to have a job, and I’m grateful for the warm welcome back into my community.
Thank you in advance for pulling myself out of my tiny hole called home, and embracing fashion, creativity, and community.
Thank you in advance for love, empathy, kindness, and support. I’m grateful for my friends, my small circle of acquaintances, and my family.
I’m grateful for being a strong woman with a presence. Thank you in advance for stepping into my power, letting go of fear, and allowing my success speak to the shitty people that have been in my life, rather than feeling the need to justify my actions.
Thank you in advance for interesting, successful research, which will lead to opportunities for papers and consulting gigs.
Thank you in advance for diversifying my income, and for working smarter, not harder.
I am grateful for my power of observation, my wit, analytical skills, and my ability to see things others miss.
Thank you in advance for a long, healthy life, and body, please forgive me for being such an ass hole to you. We need a solution to this chronic pain, but eating healthy is hard (lolol).
As a part of my healing process, I started looking into the idea of spirituality. Brene Brown defines spirituality as “recognizing and celebrating that we are all inextricably connected to each other by a power greater than all of us, and that our connection to that power and to one another is grounded in love and compassion. Practicing spirituality brings a sense of perspective, meaning, and purpose to our lives.”
It was really difficult for me to open up to the idea of spirituality because I had always thought of myself as agnostic or atheist. I don’t believe in the One Might God, but I also don’t believe that things just happen randomly. Truthfully, I struggled with the idea of atheism for that reason: I don’t believe things just happen randomly; I believe in karma, and soul mates, some sort of order in the universe, but I don’t believe it is a/The God. So I created my own label for my religious beliefs: Spiritual Atheist. I’m sure that someone came up with that terminology much sooner than I did, but when I thought of it, it just seemed to fit.
It has been a real eye-opener for me in a lot of ways. I used to roll my eyes about people that would profess their love for God, and after this experience, I now have a better understanding of why; That is what brings them connection and purpose into their lives. Who am I to judge a normal non-ass hole person for professing their love for Jesus (and by ass hole, I mean the judgy kind). The church that they worship at is just a means for their connection, and if it makes them happy, why judge them? I am grateful that I had the courage to dip into spirituality, because it has taught me a deeply valuable lesson in compassion and empathy.
Re-adjusting to driving after my probationary period was over was incredibly scary. The first time I drove, I had a mini panic attack driving to the gas station 3 minutes down the road. Thankfully Patrick, my husband, was in the car with me and took over. As I felt my meds kicking in and starting feeling safe driving, it became easier. It took a lot of help getting there though; daily dose of Zoloft, therapy, and my own exposure therapy. It was around ~2-3 months for me to finally feel safe driving on a day to day basis, but I generally still won’t get onto the freeways unless absolutely necessary or I have had time to prepare myself, and usually, I’ll take more medication, juuust in case. If I feel crappy on any given day, I won’t drive at all. I never want to have to wake up in a crashed car ever again, so I play it safe.
I mentioned in the last piece that I started a new medication called Topamax. Ughhhh. Oh my dear God, it was the worst medication ever. My hands, feet, face were almost always tingly. It’s that feeling you get when your arm or leg falls asleep, but it just happens regularly, without warning, and all across your face and fingers.
At first, it made me feel like I was having panic attacks, but I learned to get used to it. The foggy brain was the worst; It literally felt like a really dense fog just parked, very stubbornly, creating a black cloud on my brain. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t put sentences together, I’d forget tiny little details, and it made functioning completely impossible most days. On bad days my brain was only functioning at 30-50% capacity. Gratefully, I was able to have a conversation with my doctor about these side effects, assured me that they were really normal, and we decided to switch things up again. I am now on the generic of Lamictal, which is Lamotragen.
My education has had to be put on hold; I couldn’t focus on school until I find a way to lighten this heavy burden in my soul. Aside from the obvious issues regarding COVID-19, I am no longer able to be on campus as much as I had envisioned, and I’m having to figure out a path that works for me and my disability. I’d been in denial all these years about needing to do so, but I finally have to get my paperwork in order to be considered a student with a disability to have some of my needs accommodated.
I am grateful that I have my current doctor’s support; my last two doctors would not have been as supportive and would have been incredibly grumpy about filling out the paperwork. Sometimes I wonder with specialists, “What the fuck am I paying to see you for then?!” Lawd have mercy!
I’m in the process of starting my own business and trying to get it off the ground. My goal is to help people with their sexual issues on a very surface level by getting to know them using a questionnaire I created, meant to take the discomfort out of the initial conversation. Ultimately my is to educate them on their bodies, providing resources and exercises to build their confidence and knowledge to give them a better sex life. It’s essentially like a sex coach. I’m also looking into getting a few certifications so that I have a can feel and present more confidently. If you’d like to check out my website, please feel free to click here.
As always, thank you so much for visiting and reading my work. I am incredibly grateful for your time. As well, I would love some feedback on my website and my idea. Please leave a comment below, or you can email me privately at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Sunday, July 28, 2019 started like any other: I woke up, dreaded and bitched about going to work that day, I actually went to work, and then I went home. After I got home, there was something I had to go get really quick, so I hopped in the car, and away I went again. I had no idea that my life was about to change in what, to me, seemed like an instant. I don’t remember how far I got; the last thing I remember is pulling out of the apartment building and driving a little way down the road, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up to a desperate banging on the car window. A woman, I later learned was a cop, was banging on the window of my car, trying to get me to come back to reality and open the door. I opened the door to learn that I had had a seizure while I was driving and drove straight into a light pole.
I remember being really disoriented, and not understanding
why or how I’d crashed the car, and thinking, “Oh fuck, I crashed Patrick’s
car. He’s going to be pissed! Is he going to leave me because I crashed his
Everyone keeps telling me, “Cars can be replaced, you can’t.”
It’s truly amazing, though, the irrational thoughts that were going through my mind as I was faced with this information. A lot of it is still fuzzy, although I do remember making a “That’s what she said joke” as they wheeled me into the ER. I remember trying to put on a brave face, and then I remember bits and pieces during the night. Apparently, I’d started seizing again in the ER, so they admitted me for observation and drugged me up to try and stop the seizures.
Mind you, this is not the first time I’d had a gran mal seizure: my first one was as a preteen, which we thought was an isolated event, but then I had one again in 2016, and that’s when I was diagnosed with epilepsy; I was 27 years old. Even though this was not my first, this was definitely the most traumatic. I drove past the pole a few days later and it was not only bent where the car struck it, but the full pole now leans. The cop who witnessed the event, and subsequently helped me, told me that it’s a miracle that the pole didn’t fall because of how much it was now leaning, or that I didn’t hit someone else.
I feel guilty because I destroyed his beloved car; I also feel somewhat guilty because I cannot drive, and I’m also now terrified to drive, so other people now have to cart me around.
But I’m so grateful that I am a place now where I have more knowledge on how to work from home, whereas in 2016, when I couldn’t drive, I didn’t have the same knowledge and/or coping skills, and/or nearly as strong of a support system as I do now. I am so grateful to the cop who witnessed the event and went out of her way to help me, the people who she said stopped and offered to help, the ambulance workers who had an amazing sense of humor and dealt with my stubborn ass, and the medical staff who took care of me in the hospital.
I am so grateful to my husband, who has been so supportive during this time; my family; my friends who have regularly checked on me and have sent endless amounts of love.
I am grateful to this blog for giving me an outlet for difficult feelings, and the community I’m slowly building here.