via Inner Beauty
I shaved my head, shedding years of a security blanket because I thought longer hair made me “pretty”. I’ve always been pretty extreme in the hair department, but this was absolutely empowering and liberating.
I’m becoming myself again. I’m tapering off of the obnoxious amount of tranquilizers and anticonvulsants etc. I was over medicated and I didn’t even realize this.
Therapy is helping me face my fears. I feel born again. There is hope guys. Don’t let your disorder define you, there are healthy ways to cope, we just have to do it. That is strength.
This is more of an update, I didn’t want readers to think I fell off the map. Although I have been a slightly off the grid. I just started seeing my therapist, we’ve had 4 sessions now. I really have to say it’s already helping. I am able to live in the present, ways to diffuse toxic situations, stopping intrusive thoughts, and most importantly helping me see that I come first.
I’ve never learned how to love myself and it’s starting to manifest right in front of me. My eyes are opening and I can see self growth and self awareness, and I have what it takes to conquer my self doubt.I know where all this empty void filling stems from, I always have. I just needed someone to help me put the pieces of the puzzle together. I urge any of my readers to seek therapy or counseling if they are able to. Just having someone to talk to helps and every session is worth it.
There was a woman outside of my Seffner publix, just driving around the parking lot. I was leaving with the few things I could afford, eggs, coffee, creamer, and that was it. I had just got done pulling out the rest of my cash for my “HOA fee” on the house I own before this incident, so I was already broke for the next month.
This woman yells “give me money so I can eat!”
I mean she actually yelled this at me as I was going to my car. I told her that I left with the only things I could afford for myself at the moment. I told her I was sorry. I actually even felt bad.
She sped off in her pick up truck after yelling, “you lying rich bitch!”
I don’t know what to make of that. I was already in such a hurry, feeling poor enough as it is and just trying to go home.
I lost it. I feel so strange.
We created something beautiful that needed to be cared for, we just forgot about it somehow and it was then neglected. It started dying, weeds started sprouting.
By the time we remembered what was so beautiful, all that was left was dead flowers overtaken by weeds, we tried to water it and save it.
You can’t water something dead and expect it to grow back overnight.
It won’t grow back ever. It’s impossible.
So how do you create something beautiful again, and actually care for it this time, still scared of the weeds that will inevitably come back.
What happened. Why did it become neglected and die?
Time heals all wounds…
It’s what you do with that time.
If the wound is not addressed properly,
The wound becomes infected.
Once the wound is now infected,
More care is needed, and again,
If it is not addressed properly,
the infection spreads throughout.
The infection becomes a disease.
Once it’s a disease, there’s nothing
Left to heal.
Even if you do heal, you’re never who you were before.
Neither the offender or the offended. All there is, is a band aid, which eventually gets intentionally or unintentionally ripped off, and the wound, now a scab, just gets picked at until it’s a scar.
Scars are forever.
It’s easy to forgive.
It’s harder to mean it.
It’s impossible to forget.
Even harder to move on.
Being diagnosed with having a mental illness is not the hard part. Sometimes it’s the odd, strange side effects and symptoms that appear weird and off putting t￼o others. Trying to hide some of these things is the hardest part of living with it.
1. Picking My Fingers
I put bandaids on my thumbs sometimes, because my anxiety can get so bad that I just pick and pick. I will pick without even realizing I’m doing it. I will even put on fake nails (from the local drug store… god forbid a nail salon sees them) just so I am unable to pick at my fingertips. When I’m out, I will hide them with bandaids because it sucks being asked “what happened?” or “what did I do to my fingers.” It’s not always like this, but when it is, it’s ugly and it isn’t something I enjoy talking about. I have OCD. Yes, I’m aware it is gross.
2. Maintaining full Eye Contact
I’m not trying to be rude, though I know that is how I come off. I have to try so hard sometimes to look interested and inclined as I’m listening to someone. I’ll think, am I looking away too much? Or am I staring too much? Do I look normal when I am saying what I’m saying? Etc… Again, I don’t always have this problem, but when I’m having an episode, especially when I’m depressed, it is so hard for me to maintain eye contact. Sometimes I just look down. I can’t help it. The fact that I’m overthinking while having a conversation with someone sometimes sucks! I do care!
3. Shaking and Fidgeting
I shake due to some of my meds. Sometimes it looks like I am trembling. I have no control over it. It isn’t always noticeable, but when it is, I usually just say I’m cold. I fidget a lot. I don’t even care how ridiculous it looks anymore. I have ADHD, I don’t take meds for that every day because I don’t need to, so I’m sorry I can’t sit still.
Sometimes I sweat a lot due to anxiety. Even if I’m feeling fine, sometimes I’ll just be sweating, so I will wear a flannel or something so no one can see my armpits. I’ve dealt with the sweating on and off for a long time. Yes I have showered. No I did not just run a mile. No I do not stink. I’m just anxious and I am wired to be sweaty. No, I don’t have hyperhidrosis, I have asked. I sweat during bipolar episodes, especially when I am feeling manic.
5. Problems Speaking
I trip over my words all the time. My speech gets jumbled, I have to think about what I say before I even say what I’m trying to say. It is much easier for me to write than it is to talk. So if I’m texting you instead of talking to you on the phone, that’s why. Sometimes I’ll say something and forget what I was trying to say altogether. I’m smart, but sometimes when I’m speaking I get so embarrassed because I will seemingly lose my vocabulary. That is one of the hardest things I deal with. I have so much to say, I know what I want to say, but I can’t articulate it. Speaking is really hard if I am manic. I speak a million miles an hour and I know you don’t care what I have to say. Sorry, I’m just elated. Just know I’m trying to calm down and I am aware of how ridiculous I may sound. I’m not trying to annoy you and it’s not my fault. I wish I could be a public speaker. I want to get better at verbally articulating myself. I feel like I’d be taken more seriously.
6. Shutting Down
When I get overwhelmed I just shutdown. I know I’m supposed to be doing something productive, but I will just be sitting down away from all the noise, responsibilities and stresses until I can calm myself down. I will not allow myself to have a meltdown trying to complete a task. I know my limitations.
7. Forgetting Things
Some medications have side effects that cause short term memory loss. I didn’t purposely put something off or procrastinate. I literally don’t remember and sometimes I need to be reminded. I feel like the guy in the movie Memento. If you’ve seen it, you’ll understand. I write a lot of notes on top of notes. If it’s important, I set alarms.
8. Isolating Myself
I will isolate myself from social situations entirely from time to time. I’ll ghost people and for that I am very sorry. I don’t have many friends because it is difficult for me to be social, especially when I become depressed.
9. When I Can’t Get Out of Bed
When I tell you I can’t get out of bed I mean it. I’m depressed. I snooze my 9am alarm until I just turn it off at 11am, and I won’t get up until I know I have to at least brush my teeth. When I am extremely depressed, I can stay in bed all day. Thankfully, that doesn’t happen so much anymore.
10. Needing Help With Mundane Tasks
Don’t point out that I need to do something when I obviously know I need to do it, but I can’t because I have bad anxiety that day. Just help me out. Most days I’m totally capable of taking care of things. Other days I don’t even know how to take out the trash, or even drive myself somewhere. It’s as though I’m having tunnel vision on days where it seems impossible to do anything that requires responsibility.
This piece was done on my side probably 2010-2011, they are lyrics from the band Underoath. It says (in case you can’t read because of my body angled this way) “I stare at the wall, watching my time float away, It’s all been a blur and nothing will change…” I relate to the words. It may seem macabre, which it probably is, but for the majority of my life, this is how I have often felt. “We walk alone” is another part of the song. I just really love this song, the band and I wanted a piece that I would relate to. The puzzle pieces were done in 2009, they’re a yin yang type deal, also ode’ to my missing piece, that piece being blank. Eventually I want to get it filled in. I’m just not sure what to put there yet.
The famous EST 1989 tattoo. I got that very young, in 2008 when I was still 18, now everyone knows how old I am, hooray! *facepalm* The writing above says, “I was up above it, now I’m down in it” Ironically, the Nine Inch Nails lyrics, from the album Pretty Hate Machine came out in 1989. I was born when one of my favorite albums came out, not to mention, my favorite band. The lyrics I think I got in 2010-2011.
My cover up of a cover up of a cover up half sleeve. Yikes, in 2009, when I first got this, it looked like some squigly whack ass tribal…yeah. I waited about 3 years before I could find someone who could make it look better. It’s the beginning of my aquatic theme, love of Hawaii and bright colors. So I don’t want to say it’s even completed. It is what it is and I love it just the way it is. He’s my little “sharky guy. You can see more of this piece in the previous photo above.
This is another cover up tattoo. (My forearms) At first they were hideous “diamonds” I got in 2009. I got them covered up in 2012. The diamonds were outlined better, I allowed my tattoo artist to add some flare around them. I said I wanted one that displayed beauty and the other displaying death. Well, that’s what I got! AND NO, it is not a blood diamond…It is just a blood splatter background. The other one is a flower of some sort.
It was hard to get a photo of this, it’s on my inner bicep. I got it in 2015 as a filler tattoo for the empty space I had there. I like to leave it up to the imagination, but it honestly has a lot to do with death, depression, sadness, etc. I also like skulls.
My Mermaid! I got my mermaid in 2013-2014 I think. I love her so much. I took two pictures because she wraps around my arm. She makes me happy, as do all things aquatic. Maybe I’m a mermaid, I definitely don’t relate to this world.
So… I have a mistake tattooed on the ditch of my knee… The lyrics are supposed to read If I would could you? Thanks single needle, in home tattoo, drunk me. From Alice in Chains, Would.
My “Famiglia” tattoo I got in 2011 I believe, it means family in Italian. Most of my family is Italian, and family is very important to me. The eye of Horus down there on my wrist is the first tattoo I ever got. I got it before I left Hawaii. I tried hiding this from my family for the longest time….didn’t work. The eye is for protection. Not to be, but easily mistaken for the eye of Ra. I have the eye of Horus, not Ra.
My favorite tattoo starts on my butt. The A is hidden under my butt cheek. It says “A Hui Kaua” Hawaiian for “Until we meet again. I have the yellow hibiscus flower and an interesting outline of the Hawaiian Islands chain. I lived there through high-school. I consider Hawaii to be where I grew up. I learned a lot about myself there. I got this tattoo in 2012. I even went back to Hawaii to visit in 2016. So we did meet again. I even hung out with some of my best friends from High School.
MY HANDS. My hands…oh hands. I love skulls, I love roses. I love skulls that look like a ship in the sunrise. I have a cross on my pinky for faith, a diamond (on my right hand) for my true love, for better and for worse to myself, the number 13 on my right and middle finger for my favorite number and it is also the day I was born. Lucky number 13. I had all this done in 2014. I didn’t just go get hand tattoos before I had most of my arm done.
There are probably more. Honestly, I’ll keep you updated.
To the previous men (boys) I’ve dated, thinking they broke me,
Do you really think it’s that easy for me to just snap out of an argument full of name calling (only from you) and “jabs” which inevitably caused me to have an even harder time, you know I was right, in everything that was said? I’m not able to be “okay” with the snap of your fingers; the inevitable resolution only serving you. I’m left with so many questions, hurting, left alone and crying, as you sleep ever so soundly. Yes, I know you have a job. However, it seems as an excuse to treat me like nothing ever happened during your vicious retaliation. Do you even have feelings? How dare you tell me that this traumatic situation is simple to overcome, or it’s just something small and irrelevant. That really, really throws me off.
You have made the decision to love me no matter what, through the thick and thin, full knowledge of my mental illness. It sure does not feel like you know, let alone care about anything at all, when you try and change my perspective to yours, your problems, at the wrong time, in the middle of the night. Your perspective won’t fix me or cure my mood, fortunately for you, you got something off your chest and now it’s done and over with, “goodnight, love you.” I said what I had to say, while it may have come off volatile, I did not throw name calling just to hurt you, that was childish and low from someone like you. Calling me a “cold woman”. Saying “it doesn’t feel good to get jabbed, does it, can we stop fighting now, come to bed”.
I shut down because you obviously don’t understand and how can I expect you to? You don’t have the capability to empathize. You have proven that you just think I’m crazy. When I say I try, I mean I’m trying and fighting with all I have to live with this disorder.
So do you really think you’ve done all the research about this illness, and you have seen how detrimental this disorder can be for all of who suffer? Isn’t it hard enough for the average person to change their attitude when overcoming obstacles? Congratulations, you got your shit together, good job. Do you want a cookie?
It is counterproductive and idiotic to tell me to stop focussing on the negatives. I already know that, I’ve tried that. You don’t think I’ve already figured out that you think it’s all in my head sometimes? All you have done is signify yet another shortcoming to add to my shitty chemical imbalance, and it’s one hell of a mind fuck to deal with which I never asked for, but I try. Your “seeing red” and stomping on me certainly doesn’t help.
When you love someone with Bipolar Disorder, claiming that you understand mental health, cut it out with the insensitive comments and offering your unwanted “help” and “guidance” You just made me feel worse about what I already know and can’t always control. Ignoring me, saying you would have asked for sex if you didn’t assume I was so sad…? Come on…
I think a lot about how you feel, yet you lack to tell me, though I already know because I feel it every day. Don’t throw it in my face like verbal diarrhea in one messy run on paragraph. I know you have feelings, hardships and that I don’t make it easier.
But you don’t conquer demons every single day of your life, you don’t need professional help, you don’t pay for medical bills, medications, therapy, psychiatrists, a lawyer for a disability claim that has been denied in the past because mental health stigma exists even in the government.
This is sadly directed to someone I love. I’m fine, just really angry. You did this.