Some Days Just Suck.

This morning I woke up, and the first thought to cross my mind was “If you die today only a handful of people will genuinely care.” The second thought was “You don’t matter.” 

Yesterday was an amazing day. There was no reason for today to be bad, there was no cause for my mood swings. Some days are just going to be bad. Sometimes things are just going to mess with your mind; but it will get better. 

For every “black zone” mood, there will be plenty of “white zone” moods. For every bad thought, and horrible mood swing, there will be days without an episode. 

So hide from the world in a dark room under a blanket, or go for a long drive. Do whatever you need to do to get through the day, and remember that it will get better.

For every dark cloud, there is always a bright sunny day to look forward to.

My Life in Ink

Every tattoo I have tells a story. A story of my life, the people, and events that have made me who I am. 

My rose, and cross: A tribute to my dad. Although he passed away when I was ten, he still had a huge impact on me. I’m a daddy’s girl to the core, and I carry his personality with pride. 

My infinity sign: I believe that nothing lasts forever. Nothing, but family, and faith.

My finger tattoo: My little reminder to always believe in myself.

My peacock: The symbol for Hera, the Greek goddess of womanhood.

My stingray: A symbol of something so beautiful, yet so deadly.

My quote: For those I’ve lost, I only wish for one more day, but is one more day ever enough?

My lipstick: A tribute for my great grandmother. She truly was an amazing woman, and I’ll forever cherish my memories with her.

My starfish: A matching tattoo with my little brother, who has been my rock since day one.

My world: Only I can control my impact on this world, and I plan on making it a good one.

My skyline: Not only was New York my first trip by myself, but it’s also home to someone who has changed my life the better in so many ways.

My bear paws: A tattoo for my stepdad, who has always accepted me as one of his own, and helped to guide me in this upside down life of mine.

My niece’s nickname: she’s my sunshine, now, and forever. No matter how lost I am, when I see her face I know I’m right where I’m supposed to be. 

My semicolon, and wildflowers: Three years without a suicide attempt. This journey hasn’t always been beautiful, but I’m still here, and there’s beauty in that.

They say thirteen is an unlucky number, but these thirteen tattoos are pieces of my story that have made me who I am. I’m not anywhere near done, and my story is still being written, but my artwork will always remind me who I am, and how far I’ve come.

Insignificant

Here’s the thing they don’t tell you about living with a mental illness, in order for everyone else to be happy, you have to be unhappy.

I say this because I can’t express my moods or explain my disorder without someone rolling their eyes, or telling me to suck it up. I can’t be moody or take a time out to find the gray without someone telling me I’m overreacting. I can’t talk about my disorder without someone telling me I’m using it as a crutch.

The truth of the matter is, I don’t process things the same way that most people do. Unfortunately this causes problems because the majority of people don’t care about that, they only care that they don’t like how I handle things and then they chastise me for being different. As if I control it.

No matter how I try to explain my disorder, I run into this same problem every time. I started writing my blog because I hoped it would bring awareness. Then I realized nobody reads this. It’s just my insignificant little journal.

This could be a suicide note, and nobody would know because nobody will read it. Just like how I have to find my gray, and nobody knows that I never had it.

 

*This is not a suicide note.

Calming Waters

Ever since I was an infant water has calmed me. It can be a bath, a shower, the rain, a pool, a hot tub, etc. It doesn’t matter as long as it’s water. Besides having my nose in a book, I can find true happiness sitting on the rocks watching the sunrise over a big beautiful beach.

We all have our things that calm us, and I think it’s truly important to find them. I think that without them we wouldn’t stand a chance at the illusion of sanity.

So whatever it is (as long as it’s legal), I hope everyone finds the thing/s that calm them.

Suicide Survivor

Suicide is selfish. I’ve been on both sides, and this is the one thing I still hold true.

I’ve been on the other end of the phone calls, the ones where I was told a person had tried to commit suicide. I remember that feeling so well that it haunts me.

I’ve also been the one that phones calls were about. I’ve attempted suicide 3 times in my life. I’ve been in the E.R. 3 times before of those attempts. I’ve scared the hell out of my loved ones.

Why? To be perfectly honest, I was being selfish. It’s a state of mind you go into where you don’t think about anything besides the fact that you want to end everything all at once. You don’t think about your loved ones and how it will hurt them. You think about how you can end it all, and your suffering will be over.

Suicide is a dark place in one’s mind where nothing matters except being free from the pain.

I’m glad that I wasn’t successful in my attempts. I’m glad that I have survived, and fought every day to not go back to that place.

Geoffrey the Giraffe

I’m an adult who sleeps with a stuffed animal. I know it may seem childish, but Geoffrey the giraffe has been like a security blanket for me for many years. He is a part of home that helps keep me from having a panic attack.

I should explain that when my father died, I developed an irrational fear that if I was away from my mother, she’d pass away just as suddenly as my father had. I had full blown panic attacks when I spent the night too far away from her.¬†When she got me Geoffrey though, the panic attacks started to slowly come to a stop. I knew she was always with me.

So yes, I’m a 21 year old that sleeps with a giant stuffed giraffe, but maybe being a little childish is worth keeping me sane.

Chasing Squirrels

Having traces of OCD and traces of ADHD in your disorder sounds better than having the full blown disorders. The key word there is “sounds”.

Sometimes they come out of nowhere, and all of the sudden I’m hyperventilating because my bracelet isn’t color coded. Half of my brain is saying “calm down, it’s not a big deal”, the other half is telling me to flip out and go overboard. Needless to say, that half of my brain will always win over the rational side.

When my ADHD comes out, you can tell. I’m jumping from topic to topic, I’m starting a new project in the middle of the project I was working on. Basically just say “squirrel”.

To be completely honest, it sucks when either disorder comes out, but the worst is when they both combine and I’m left trying to do a seven different projects perfectly.

I guess it’s not the worst, but you can’t always spend time chasing squirrels.