Gratitude x2

Thank You to Everyone Who Made This Possible 🖤🌈

I’m So Grateful!!

After only a couple of weeks since the launch, and 50 views 🥰❤️‍🔥 Doesn’t seem like a lot on the surface, but side hustles start slow.

Haven’t seen my website yet? Check out Autumnal Beauty! I specialize in beauty education! Check out my portfolio! Stay awhile 🥰

Coming Soon: Cheat Sheets, Tutorials, Beauty 101 lessons, and brutally authentic product reviews.

Stay tuned 🥰🌈😘❤️‍🔥🦄💋

And I’d be even more grateful than all the gratefulness if you’d subscribe to my blog, and if you’re feeling frisky, Autumnal Beauty too! I post cool stuff, about people, places, and things!

Join the dark side. We have cats. And cake 😘

How One Moment Can Change Everything; An Epilepsy story

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 car?”

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.

So from the bottom of my heart: thank you.

The Anxiety Monster

“You either walk inside your story and own it or you stand outside your story & hustle for your worthiness.” – Dr. Brene Brown

****Trigger Warning: Graphic description of anxiety in the first paragraph and some minor graphic descriptions below. ****

You all know what I’m talking about: it’s that little tiny monster that sneaks its way into your soul, making you question everything that you do, in the more you question yourself, your sanity, your world, the more it feeds, and the bigger it grows. Eventually, without us realizing, it has turned into this horrid creature that you’ve never seen before, but it is suffocating you, and your knees bend beneath you, and eventually you give up and allow it to take over.

Yeah – that went dark fast, didn’t it? This is probably saying, “Bitch, I don’t come here for the depressing stuff. I come here for the relatable information and occasional humor!” First of all, thank you for thinking that I’m funny; I’ve been working on it 😉 Secondly, this is my show damnit! *pouts*

But in all seriousness, I know that I claim this is a sex education blog, but I think that this needs to be talked about, because as small as my platform is, all it takes is it to reach one person in need for it to be worth it. There is never a gesture too small for someone who genuinely needs and is receptive to help. It just starts with a simple question: “Are you okay?

Any way, back to me! Mine and Patrick’s world have been in a tailspin since the year began, and we were lucky enough to get hit with a triple whammy: financial, family, and moving. We decided to get married this year, I decided to go back to school full time and cut back on working only a couple of days a week, then we found out that Patrick’s father had a stroke and were able to reconnect with his father’s side of the family, but because they live out of town, we rented hotel rooms, and my course load was significantly fuller than I originally anticipated, and I’m rebuilding a relationship with my father, and he just recently met Patrick, and it goes on and on and on.

If that felt like a cluster fuck of information, how do you think we feel? The anxiety is constantly looming; it feels like there’s constantly something that I’m forgetting about, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s physically, emotionally and mentally exhausting to be on high alert ALL OF THE TIME. And to top it off, I’m an empathic fixer: I feel very deeply, process very slowly, and I have the instinct to try and fix things as soon as shit hits the fan. I feel anxiety about the possibility of feeling anxiety. Like, what the fuck is that shit? I can’t fucking even. Side note: anxiety simultaneously brings out the basic white bish and the foul mouthed sailor in me.

And worst yet, I am, what I have dubbed, just right this second, an emotional coat rack. I tend to ask people if they need help, and once they do, they tend to dump their emotional coats on me, which wouldn’t be a problem, except, yep, I said it above, I’m an empathic fixer. And, I suck at asking for help, so as a result, I either internalize (which I didn’t realize the extent to which I do until recently), or I emotionally dump on others, who are also empathic fixers. We emotionally dump like it’s a freaking pyramid scheme, or the PC term we use now, a Multi-level marketing scheme. They can’t fool me; John Oliver told me they’re the same!

So how does this anxiety show itself, you may ask? Probably not, but I’m going to tell you any way. For me, it starts with a little bit of OCD; Did you lock the door? Yes, I’ve checked it 5 times dumb ass. Then, I’ll start nagging, blaming and resenting; He knows I’m pissed off today, why is he still breathing in my general direction? Then, we end up having a stupid argument about something stupid, and we both feel shame and guilt for acting like a cunt muffin towards each other. Finally, we make up, and talk about it and move on.

But fuck does it suck to always be the strong one sometimes. The worst part about emotional dumping how good it feels to get it off your chest. I get tired of being the emotional coat rack sometimes, and sometimes I want to be the one that someone offers to help.

Don’t feel shameful if you’ve never offered to help someone in need; life is hard and hectic, and sometimes, if things just don’t feel like they’re going to line up, you go into survival mode, or as I refer to it, hermit mode. It’s also difficult to open yourself up enough to empathize with others; it can be extremely uncomfortable to dig into a deep part of yourself that say, “I’ve been there too.” The bad memories of those experiences tend to linger and sometimes it feels like you can’t handle someone else’s load (lol load). But sometimes, even a simple hug, a funny meme or a “Just checking in” text can change someones day.

I encourage you to be curious about the things that give you anxiety; the monster wins if you shy away from it. I also encourage you to practice gratitude; when you focus on all of the positive things that are going on, it makes dealing with the hard stuff much easier to manage. Finally, practice noticing the people around you. If you see a mom with a screaming child, being stared at grudgingly by strangers, and clearly flustered, ask her if she needs help. If you haven’t heard from a friend in a long time, send them a text saying that you’re thinking about them. It’s amazing how it can brighten not only their day, but also yours.

#makeamericakindagain #anxiety #empathicfixer #emotionaldumping