Get a Partner Who…

So this weekend has been full of depression and anxiety now that spring break is coming to a close. And I am not talking the fun, ‘aww, spring break is ending,’ I am talking about the pure and raw emotion that comes with me and school because of my PTSD around school shootings. I also am in part a very emotional and angry person and that is contributing to my feelings of anxiety and depression.

This morning I told my husband that I was so depressed that I couldn’t get out of bed. And the following is a message on why you need a partner like my husband.

1) ‘Ally, remember that song by Celine Dion (my favorite singer), ‘A New Day Has Come?’ And then he proceeded to sing it to me.

2) Then when the words got too complicated he started a Celine Dion ballad of all the songs he knew. So it was half of My Heart Will Go On and half of a New Day Has Come.

3) He looks at me and knows I need a hug.

4) Yesterday he bought me wine.

5) He doesn’t judge me for taking medication to help my anxiety and he holds my hand when he knows I am judging myself for it.

Until next time,

Allison

Advertisements

Trigger Warning: Suicide

I just wanted to give everyone a fair warning that this blog is going to be straight up honest and blunt.

I have a mental illness. I am not shy about sharing it because I hope that it will help others be brave enough to share or to get the help and support they need.

In case you are wondering, this is what I have: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Depression and Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). I basically am like a buffet of issues- a little of this and a little of that. It’s like going to a Chinese buffet that has pizza and chicken nuggets.

Either way, I have discovered something about mental illness that made me so angry that I can’t be silent anymore. I was asked today why I am on intermittent FMLA (Family Medical Leave Act).

I am on FMLA because of my PTSD which was a direct result of an active shooter drill that one of the high schools did where I used to work. The school I worked at brought in three men with assault rifles, shot up the school with blanks and they had people banging on the door screaming to let them in because the ‘shooter had a gun and we are going to fucking die.’

So yeah, getting up and going to work is hard because I am going to a place that doesn’t feel safe and although feelings can feel real, they are usually not true. And as much as my mind understands that, my PTSD and Trauma brain does not.

When I was questioned about it today, I was open and honest. I mean I write a blog for God’s sake. But then this person, who is extremely kind but I feel like doesn’t realize how they come off, said that they ‘understand people that are on FMLA because they need medical treatment but they…

And that’s when it hit me. I told this person that just because this other persons pain is physical and can be seen, doesn’t mean that my disability doesn’t exist because it can’t be seen.

And that’s when I realized, in order for people to believe that you are in fact sick, you have to have physical problems. So it makes me sad but I believe the only way people will know that I suffer and that I am sick is if I self-harm and develop physical scars or if I just can’t put up with life anymore and decide to kill myself.

So do all of us who have mental illness a favor and believe that we are suffering. Believe that we are hurting. Believe that we are scared. Believe that we are triggered. Believe us when we say that we are trying to get better.

We don’t ask someone with cancer to show the results of the tests that changed their lives forever. You don’t ask a diabetic to show their pricked finger or their empty needles. You don’t ask a person in a wheelchair to walk just to be sure that they would fall. Why is mental illness different? I am fighting battles that you will never know anything about and for that I am brave. For that, we are all brave.

Until next time,

Allison

If you are suicidal and need someone to talk to, contact the National Suicide Hotline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255).

Do What I Say.

So I find that when I am the most depressed, I don’t write a lot of funny stories. If you want funny, go back like a week ago.

So when I am depressed, it helps to write. Read it if you want because it is going to be honest writing laced with a shit ton of sarcasm.

This blog is going to be about depression and ways to get through it…

1) I’m depressed. 

I need you to say: think positively. Just kidding. Don’t say that unless it is followed by, ‘think positively about a drink I can buy you.’

2) I’m so emotionally exhausted from life.

I need you to say: rest your head on my lap and I will pet you like a dog since you were a dog in a past life.

3) I really want to rip off your face because your dumb look makes me want to beat you with a giant 2 x 4. 

I need you to say: would you like that 2 x 4 to be oak or birch?

4) I am having an anxiety attack.

I need you to say: would you like a brown paper bag or a plastic bag because plastic could end the misery.

5) I am having anger issues and I feel like I might murder someone.

I need you to say: let me bring you someone from your hit list.

6) I don’t feel like getting out of bed because life is too hard.

I need you to say: get the fuck out of bed and start the day. I will throw a shot of Bailey’s in your coffee.

7) I say I don’t like the bullshit that is pouring out of your mouth.

I need you to say: I will find the duct tape.

8) I tell you I can’t take life anymore.

I need you to say: let’s do this Thelma and Louise style.

9) I tell you that I need a break.

I need you to say: let’s get drunk and escape this place for a while.

10) I say life in general is forcing me to use therapeutic skills and it’s still not working because sometimes life is like a giant asshole.

I need you to say: I understand that there isn’t enough therapeutic skills that could deal with this world because sometimes life just blows a big chunk of ass when you are down. Here’s a drink, some ice cream and bacon; now excuse me while I grab the duct tape and 2 x 4 for you.

Until next time,

I have to get out of this mindset because I am starting to spiral. I can’t hit rock bottom again.