Or go down in flames...

11 years.

Yup. 11 years today I was a normal 19 year old who was hanging out with a boy who made her feel alive. Who made her laugh, who made her smile, who had a way with words that always made her feel special. He was perfect. Perfect for someone who's 19. We were watching MXC as we always did after dinner at his parents house and eating chocoate chocolate chip ice cream. He kept kissing me. "Your lips are really soft. I'm going to have to buy you a lifetime supply of ice cream." I never did get that lifetime supply. In fact, he's prevented from buying ice cream more than he has allowed me to buy ice cream. So we were sitting there, watching TV and I was blissfully unaware he was staring at me until he leaned over and said "what about the 5th?" we had this on going joke that we'd get together on a Friday the 13th and there was one in February. So I was a little surprised by his suggestion. I shook my head not really understanding and he laughed. And it occurred to me. "Oh shit, are you asking me out?" I blurted. He laughed again, "well I'm trying to." I felt pretty stupid so he took my head and he goes "babe, will you go out with me?" 

He was like that back then, even though he hated life like I did. We were both consumed in separate drama for separate reasons. Me with my abusive ex boyfriend and him with a girl who wished she was his ex girlfriend (which just makes it even crazier). And it was like, we were the lifeline for the other person. There were days that hit us so hard we would just sit in silence and cuddle, not saying a word. Not needing to. He was fun, he was understanding, he was sweet and considerate and he was a good person despite the hand that was dealt to him by life. He kept a smile on my face and my heart swelling with nothing but good feelings.

Fast forward to 11 years later. I know, trust me, I hate it too.

And suddenly one week or perhaps it was one night, I don't really remember at this point, everything changed. He was always irritable. Always angry. Always impatient and had nothing positive or nice to say to me. He wasn't encouraging, instead he would tell me you're not going to do shit anyway when I would tell him of my new plans. And that's how he was. I'm the type of person who loves being inspired. I love to create despite that my imagination thanks to OCD is limited, but I still try. And you would expect your husband to be your biggest fan. Always. Right? This was the guy who happily drove me to every single Walgreens in the BAY AREA in search of ONE NAIL POLISH. This is the guy who drove me happily to every book signing I could get to and was proud of me every time an author greeted me by name when I walked up. This was the guy who would read me books when I was too tired to read. This is the guy who would put on Alice in Wonderland or Serendipity when I was having a bad OCD night. 

This was the guy.

This isn't the guy.

I don't know who this guy is. I don't know what he wants from me. I don't know what he wants from life. I don't know what his favorite food is or his favorite color or what he likes to do for fun besides SnapChat other girls at 2AM and ignore me all day long. I don't know him. And honestly, at this point, I don't think I want to know him either.

New Years Eve was a pretty rough night for me. It's the second NYE I didn't get to spend with my mom and I even turned down going through with my yearly tradition. He was never into traditions anyway. So I was in bed by 1030 that night. He left to watch the fireworks even though he hates watching fireworks and he snapped all his chick friends Happy New Year and I got nothing. Luckily for me, a friend of mine had posted a stream of it happening on Main Street. Sure we could had both simply walked outside and watched it but you know what, it was kind of nice to watch it on Main Street with the music and the fireworks surrounding you (or rather the camera man, same deal) and I texted everyone I knew on the East Coast with Happy New Years and at 3am everyone on the West Coast. I didn't get a kiss, or a happy new year from him. 

It was like 2014 was a year of big scary painful changes and 2015 is a year of letting it all go.

 

Prior to midnight on NYE I was in the middle of a really hard hitting anxiety attack. I was alone in my room, in the dark and I was playing with this knife. I've had this knife close to me since I had to leave my job in August but I never took it out, until then. I ran it along my leg thinking of how nice it would feel to feel something other than the ball of painful chaos in the middle of my chest that won't go away. Thinking of something other than the fact that marriage has failed and the person who vowed to love, protect and take care of me has done none of those things in over a year. 

What I don't understand is if your wife has a mental problem why would you do things to trigger her with zero compassion? Why would you purposely hurt her? Why would you tell her to shut up and go to sleep when she's sobbing in bed next to you after another night you came home at 5am? You're suppose to be protecting her. Instead you abandon her. And besides the lies and the creeping around, that's something I can not forgive. I didn't cut myself. Instead I gave myself a rather big bruise on my leg, as you can see. I hit harder than I thought and I actually fell to the floor crying. At least it got my mind of the anxiety!

A few nights later this happened.

Some chick he works with who decided to voice her opinion about me despite what my original tweet had said. He seems to pick these girls who are under 23 and have this selfish bitchy vibe to them I'm seeing. Like every girl he's talked to, hung out with, constantly SnapChats with... they're all the same with different faces. The fact that she sent him a snapshot of my tweet laughing gave me the impression they had some sort of inside joke about me or that he was talking to her about how crazy I am. It's like that quote....

I'm not wondering what they said, I'm wondering why they told YOU what they said.

I thought I was prepared and over all types of betrayal by him at this point. I mean pretty much anything that could happen in that department has already happened + more.  And because she is pretty much a child, she kept on going with talking shit about me on her Twitter. And what did he do? Defend her, of course. Blame me, of course. Never mind that I was hurt or sad because obviously my emotions have no place in his life this passed year. He allows these chicks (3 total in the passed 12 months) to talk about me/talk to me like this. Without a hint of respect that you are aware that you're SnapChatting a married man at 2AM every two hours aren't you? If that isn't home wrecker action then I don't know what is. And I ended up anxious again because I felt betrayed again and I ended up punching myself in the jaw and slapping the shit out my face. I didn't bruise and I didn't make it sore, thank goodness. And of course when I tell him this he doesn't respond. I don't know what to say. So you choose to ignore me all together? I don't feel like a wife. I feel like a server. After literally beating myself up I suppose I went into shock or something because I became incredibly calm. And went to sleep.

11 years.

The Dissolution of Marriage papers have already been printed. My appointment for for an STD screening has already passed. I just need to focus on what is ahead. I have a year of pretty exciting things going on. It's just the limbo state that sucks so much.

Why hello, 2015

It is now officially 2015! 

Which means that all the bullcrap I went through in 2014 is over! Except, that's not really how life works. It is 2015, however the bullcrap that was going on in 2014? Yeah, it's still going.

M hates that picture even though I blurred it. But I think it's a pretty damn profound picture. Wish I had shot it with a better camera but alas, the best photos are usually taken with an iPhone. Portability or something.

This year I don't have any resolutions. I stopped doing that last year and went on to do onelittleword instead. I felt like resolutions are like this solid by the book list or things you had to cross off and the majority of them were things I didn't even get close to. So I decided to give myself the choice and flexibility and also not so much pressure through the year to keep reminding myself oh! I need to get started on this so I can check it off! Last year my word was [ happiness ] and I think I did a fairly good job at keeping that word in mind and making it come alive. Of course life does get in the way and it got in the way so much stronger and meaner than I ever thought it would but it did encourage me to push harder and reevaluate my life, my thought pattern and my emotions.

This year my word is [ rediscover ].

And I think after everything that has happened, it's a pretty good word to stand by and find ways to make it come alive. I'm on an extension of the journey I began last year and while I'm still trying to get back on the path of recovery that I oh so fell off of, I'm also on the journey to figuring out who I am. By myself. I haven't been by myself in over 11 years. Maybe longer than that. And all these years I spent taking care of someone else, I neglected myself. And now that shit has hit the fan, as hard and as painful (though I don't really see why) as it is, I need to walk away. For me. To better myself. To fully heal. Because sadly, the more time I spend around him, the more I'm taking two steps back. He's not here to help me or guide me or protect me. He's only making my journey that much harder and I hate to say that not really because at one point he was my biggest fan. But people change. They grow in different directions. They don't see the world in the same way. 

Yes, I have manners and expectations and I deal with situations differently and sometimes I forget that I'm expecting others to deal with these situations the way I would when they're far too young to even understand it. Call me when your frontal lobe is fully developed. But you are the company you keep, and I can't say the company he keeps is full of good people. Or even decent people. And so he brings all that crap and negative energy back home and --- I feel like Phoebe in the first episode of FRIENDS where she's picking at Ross' aura. Yeah I kinda feel like doing that, around my apartment.

In addition to my onelittleword I do have goals. Basic things I hope to accomplish as the year goes on.

• Read 50 books (yes I went back to 50)
• Transfer to Full Sail
• Allow my business to grow
• Look into starting a non-profit
• Look into / (and if you're daring enough) start an apparel line
• Start meditating and doing night time/morning yoga
• Practice gratitude and work on not letting other people harm you
• Be a bit more consistent with YouTube and blogging
• Start learning French again
• Less stuff, more growth

Here's to hoping for a fantastic year in which I finally be control of my own mind, my own actions and my own destination. It's going to be a challenge and it's going to be tough at times, that I can already tell --- as is anything else that counts as a big change in your life but I'm confident that I will come out of this year happier, stronger and in a much more positive place.

What are some things you hope to accomplish this year?

I'm still a mess... I've got a long way to go...

Hello!

I know it's been awhile since I have been here, I've switched accounts and sadly this is the only blog left on this account that isn't on my new account and I'm not into the mood of moving it. So... here it stays. 

Whoa got a little distracted right there.

Things are going.... well, they're going. That's all that matters. One foot in front of the other and eventually I'll get to where I need to be. This blog was suppose to be where I wrote down everything in my life that was going on, everything that frustrated me and everything that is part of the healing process. And I haven't done that. I'm sorry self, I'll try to do better. Considering there are exciting things that are bound to be happening very soon.

Also, my YouTube and my blog, though they're coming from the same place have completely different content. I just noticed that. How strange...

So today, I had a big of anxiety and I vlogged about it earlier. If you'd like to see that video, it's right [[ here ]]. I don't know the source or why now, why today. But I do know on Tuesday night, after M hung out with his friend I woke up twice that night crying from bad dreams. Though in the first bad dream, I did manage to shoot up her car. Don't know if she was in it or not but that doesn't matter. Maybe I was crying because she wasn't and the bitch got away. Who knows. 

But last night I reached out to the 3rd person in their little circle of bff's and I guess this was a bad idea. Since she was close to M's friend I don't know what made me think she might actually be a nice and decent person because she really is not.

It sort of made me really mad how she said I don't even know you so how can I feel like I owe you something or even be able to betray you. When she was in on the whole him telling them not to tell me where he is the night he didn't come home. It was HER going away dinner. But it was her friend I called the cops on as well as him. She got on a plane before I thought to call the cops, lucky her. Then she says that I've never had close guy friends. Are you kidding me? I'm not even going to get into that because it's not relevant. The bottom line is I asked her a simple question and instead of a yes or no answer, she goes rage bitch on me. The only other time I've messaged her was when M was missing asking if she knew where he was --- to which she didn't even respond to.

You would think if someone was hanging out with your husband they would at least have the decency to respect you. But obviously these two girls don't understand the meaning of respect. Then again, neither does M so I guess that's what made them all BFF's. 

Did I mention I wasn't allowed to meet her and I'm not allowed to meet his "BFF" he hangs out with every single Tuesday for 12-16 hours? Yeah. I'm not allowed to meet her, EVER. I'm not allowed to go visit the park he works at. Nothing. I can't even watch Fantasmic. 

So all this stuff just piling up is stressing me out and he acts like I just have to get over it. Like it's not a big deal. And the best part --- he thinks he's completely innocent. So yeah. I'm here, in my bubble of crazy I guess. Feeling stressed out and hurt because of no reason at all since it's not like he's doing anything wrong. 

Yup.

I think it's time for bed.

Weird vivid random dreams...

[ credit: Pinterest here ]

This is actually really cute. Where can I get a candle holder like that? I should put that by my bedroom window... or something. Anyway, so off topic. But seriously. Doesn't it just look.... I don't know, magical?

Dreams.

Within the last week, week and a half I've been having really random vivid dreams. Kind of ever since I started reading Dream Boy for my October Reading Challenge and this isn't really the first time a book has somehow influenced my dreams. However, I think I've dreamt of almost every single person I know in real life within that time frame. I wake up a lot through out the night randomly and each time I go back to sleep it's a different dream with different people. But people I know.

Last night however I had a dream with people I didn't recognize and some who's faces I didn't even see. 

I was living in what looked like a frat house and my room had 4 people to it, including me. So I had 3 roommates total. I came home to find the door ajar and my laptop as well as one of my room roommates laptops stolen. I brought it up with everyone and one girl who lived in the house (but in a different room) said with sass "well why don't you two just buy another one with your YouTube money." like she was jealous we were vloggers but I didn't really feel the hate coming off of her, just that this was somehow common knowledge. Let's call her "queen bee". 

So anyway, I go back to my room and my other roommate is sitting on her bed and we're just looking at each other like is she foreal? Not to mention she was throwing a party no one else in the house knew about so me and my actual roommates were all hiding out in our room. I didn't recognize the people in the room with me and I don't even remember what the other two girls looked like. 

So the dream flashes and we're brought into this room which sort of reminds me of like a graveyard room in a "haunted house" at Six Flags I went to back in 2001 except the lights were on and there wasn't very many of us but "queen bee" was in control of what pops out and who it was going to pop out on from under a table. I know, that makes no sense. But my friend Rob was there with me and we made it out to an arcade area and I remember I just had to win this plushie toy thing. 

And that was the end of that dream.

I'm thinking of borrowing the idea from Dream Boy about making a dream journal. Writing out things in real life that are bothering me or just things that stick out basically and on the other side of the page write my dreams as I remember them. Just to see if there's any link between any of them. I'm sure there are. As I was looking up the meaning of dreams to Halloween, fear and roommates, it pretty much summed up things going on in my real life. 

Strange how that works out right?

Let's see how this goes.

Mood boards

I know it's been awhile since I've posted anything; I've jumped from idea to idea on what to do with this blog. I want to make it MORE than just a recovery blog. It's A Blissful Journey and I want to share things that make me happy or bring me bliss or something of that nature but I just can't figure out how to project that through this blog. While making it exciting. So I'm still playing around with idea's. Looking around for inspiration to what exactly it is I want to project in this blog. What I want you guys, the readers, to take away from it. My only hope is that this blog inspires someone else to go after what they dream of doing or to know that you're not alone or that there is help if you're willing to ask for it. But also that life is life. Life is always going to be life and it's short. Pay attention to the things that make you happy, the little things especially. I, myself am actively always trying to practice gratitude and man, it's hard.

Anyway...

I was cruising through Pinterest as I sometimes do and I came across this, a mood board. I mean I've heard of them before or like an inspiration board or something but in a physical aspect all I see is a poster board with chopped up magazines glued to it.

But when I took a look at some on Pinterest it appealed to me a little more. Some people had images, or quotes or color palettes. And I guess the idea is to put together something that would inspire you or evoke emotion when you look at it.

I'm totally interested in making my own mood board but honestly, I'm having trouble with what I'd actually put in it because I like to separate things so much. Let's see if I can let go of that and just throw together everything I find that inspires me haha.

What would be on your mood board? Would it be colors? Words? Would you have a theme?

People... and their religion

[ credit: Pinterest ]

I don't believe in God or Jesus or Mother Mary or The Holy Spirit.

But I use to.

I grew up in a Roman Catholic household and family. The things we could and couldn't do in church were strict. It wasn't a day of celebration. It was more like every Sunday we were mourning something. It was actually depressing now that I think about it. There was a lot of quiet. A lot of prayer. A lot of... I don't really remember because I was always so tired as a child from band comps that I pretty much would endure the hour and a half of complete and utter silence other than the pastor talking or him telling us to sing a song. Seriously. Depressing.

When my OCD hit me hard in 2006, I decided to make a change. A lot of my fears came from being sent to hell so I figured, let's change religions! To be completely honest, believing in God never felt right to me. It never made sense to me. There were so many questions I had and the only answer anyone could give you was "have faith". Uhm. Okay. Let me.... go.... do that... or the fact that The Bible isn't even written by Jesus just people who could had been completely misunderstanding what he was saying. Not to mention there's the new version and the old version. But there was a religion that was always in the back of my mind. One that any Catholic would completely misunderstand. That anyone, in general who is uneducated about the religion would misunderstand without actually doing a little bit of research. 

 

I feel like people are afraid to know the truth these days about things and would rather live in their blissful bubble of lies.

This blog post isn't meant to put down those who believe in God because while I don't, I respect the religion and the people who follow it. I still feel like certain things I do or say are sinful and even though I've removed myself from the practice of the religion you know, growing up with it... old habits die hard. 

The reason why I picked this particular image was because of the bottom quote:

 

But remember God works in his timing, not yours. Have patience.

 

Sometimes I do envy the people who give their lives to God. Who are completely okay with it. Because they have this thing that not many other people have --- they have someone they can "count on". They have someone they can "talk to". They have someone to thank and someone to ask for help from. 

 

And while I believe that it's not God who is doing these things, but the energy that you are simply putting out into the universe and getting back, they still have this thankful mindset. And people who believe in God, man, they take thankfulness to a whole 'nother level! 

You can see the difference in the people who grew up with this religion and who didn't. Who took something away from it growing up and who didn't and you can see how it shaped them as teenagers. As adults. And while I don't believe in the religion, I do believe it is something nice to grow up with because it does teach you a lot of things that become useful in your adult life.

God works in his timing, not yours. Have patience.

People believe that even though they've prayed for something, God will make it happen. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not next week and maybe not even next year. But when the timing is right it will happen. And it usually does. Catholicism teaches you to be patient. To stay optimistic about a situation no matter how horrible it is and on the days you can't deal with it, you pray. You pray for the strength to get through this and even though nothing is really happening, it does make you feel better. A little stronger. Like someone's got your back.

 

That's something I took away from growing up with Catholicism ---  patience that something good will happen. I just have to wait. That even if the situation were to go downhill, it just wasn't meant to be. I learned to respect people. I learned to show compassion. I learned to be aware. I learned to listen to myself. 

So just because a religion didn't feel like it was for me. Or something I could practice, I'm still glad I grew up with it. It helped a great deal in shaping who I am today as an adult. 

And most of all, it taught me that things will get better. I just have to have patience.

Meditation... am I doing this right?

I decided to look into meditation and yoga before deciding on taking medication. I thought this is my last natural resort to try and rewire my brain myself. And it was something I hadn't tried yet, something I hadn't actually put much consideration into because well... I'm impatient. 

So I looked it up. And came across articles like this and this and this, articles that tell you how your life will change and you'll be calmer, it'll help you sleep and all these other amazing health benefits. A few tips, how to do it... all of that good stuff. Only to discover.... there isn't just ONE way to do either! Uh okay... now what? So I looked into all the different types of meditation and I researched which ones helped the most when it came to anxiety and Mindfulness came up.

[ credit: Pinterest ]

I just love infographics, don't you? They're fun!

From my understanding, when it comes to Mindfulness meditation the goal isn't to completely clear your mind. I mean, it is, but it isn't. It's more to be aware of yourself, your surroundings, of the thoughts that are floating in your mind --- to be aware of them but not to stick them around, just let them flow right passed you. 

For about a week every night before bed I would sit and I would try to relax and I would breathe. And my mind, I suppose because the day is pretty much over and all I had to do was some simple Yoga and go to bed after this, was pretty much empty. Which kind of frustrated me but it shouldn't had because it meant more time to be aware of myself. My breathing. Which I had a hard time doing. Which I still have a hard time doing. I keep telling myself inhale, exhale, feel the inhale and exhale --- wait, I didn't feel that exhale. Maybe you should exhale deeper. Wait, no don't do that, you'll get dizzy. You know what, just breathe. Seriously. My train of meditation thoughts.

I feel like I'm doing this wrong.

But I can't be mad because I literally just started. Going from this brain who has White Rabbit Syndrome (I made that up --- I feel like I'm the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland all the time saying I'm late! I'm late! because I literally always feel like I'm racing against time. Against what exactly? I don't know.) who always has to be on the GO and forcing myself to sit. Still. And breathe. And not think. Is going to be a challenge!

But how can you get something if you don't practice, right? So I'll keep at it. 

But seriously, am I doing this right?

Summer colds...

Damn these summer colds. I swear, this happens to me every single July/August. Usually around the time I'm getting ready to move. 

It started yesterday, or rather the day before yesterday when we went to Tampa.

My throat gets all icky and scratchy and the phlegm gets significantly worse until it's at the point where it is now and I just want to hawk out my entire lung area and start over. Did I mention it causes me to lose my voice? Yeah, I realized I had lost it when I was telling Siri to wake me up in half an hour and she looked up directions for me in a place that doesn't exist CAUSE THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAID. 

I mentioned to Alexis I needed to start adding pictures to my blog posts cause all text is just boring. But I'm not exactly sure what I would post pictures of since I'm not sure what's relevant... if I posted pics of my med bottles well that would probably convey a really bad image lol.

I love how I'm not formally blogging here like I do with my other blogs and I'm pretty much just rambling. This is awesome. It's been years since I've rambled in a blog! Blogging has really changed in the last ten years by the way. 

Anyway. 

Night 2 of a full pill was last night. It's getting easier to swallow (pun intended!), the fear isn't really bothering me anymore. So far things have been good. Steady. I feel like it's something I can hold on to that won't let me down as long as I keep doing what I'm suppose to be doing. I'm not too much afraid of relapse anymore, I've got that extra push that's reminding me to keep going. One foot in front of the other. One day after another. The voice that tells me I'm worthless or that basically has trapped me for the last ten years is still there, I can feel it. Sitting in a corner, watching. But it's not saying anything. Each day that passes it gets more and more powerless. I think it's a little mad at me, this might sound scary but I have a small fear it might be plotting revenge. It can't control me anymore. The compulsions I still do are things that I'm use to, things that I know will take a while for me to stop doing, to basically remind me myself to forget to do them. If that makes sense. But with the progress I'm making, I'm confident that I'll "forget" them in time.

I think the part I am most excited about is that my desire to do things is coming back. I almost wrote a to-do list today. My desire to blog, to read, to create is creeping back in. My desire to be around things that inspire me. I walked around the apartment smiling every now and then yesterday just thinking about random things and it was so nice. It was so nice to feel that way. 

I feel like the last 3 months have taken my life and turned it inside out and I can point fingers. I can play the blame game. I can sit here and continue to be angry at them but I choose not to. Instead I'll use this new energy to rebuild myself. 

M came home at 4AM this morning, again. And I texted him when I woke up suddenly at 330 to find his phone was off again so either it died or he was hiding from me. Either way, I wasn't upset. I literally rolled over and just went back to sleep. It turns out his phone died cause he was FaceTiming his younger siblings while he went on his nightly walk and lost track of time as always. Whatever, I didn't care, I just wanted sleep. And while it was nice to for once not go bat shit crazy and care it was also sad. Sad that he looks at it as me just going crazy and not me being worried. But that's not my problem anymore. I basically told him this morning I was never going to let someone take away my passions or make me feel guilty for loving food and crafts I may never learn. This is my life, I can do and be into what I want for any reason I choose. Back off. 

So here's to doing just that. Living for me. Taking care of me first before anyone else. Staying strong. Being consumed by my passions and forgetting the world like I use to.

No one's going to stop me ever again.

Here we go...

So last night was night 7 and I was told to take half a pill of Zoloft for 7 nights then a whole pill the rest of the 7... so I guess I was suppose to take my last half a pill last night and my first whole pill tonight? Uh, oops.

Anyway.

I took my first whole pill along with 1/4 of anti-anxiety and I went to go start reading Divergent. I've put off this book for four years because it's massive. I mean, I've been part of the book blogging community for the last 4 years and I remember the hype around the release of this title and how everyone loved it and I always told myself I was gonna pick it up and I just didn't... I mean it took me 4 years to also pick up City of Bones and so I figure if I breezed through the first 3 books in The Mortal Instruments series in like 2 days I can finish Divergent within the 14 day borrow period I have. M went to see the movie and said it was great, he didn't read the book but everyone says it's as close to the book as The Hunger Games was so, that's good. Anyway I'm on chapter 5 so far and this is what I don't like about dystopia's... info dump. Like, I don't care about your parents conversation, I wanna know what's going to happen tomorrow NOW.

But, I was sitting up while I was reading and I was wide awake. Which kind of... confused me. Usually I have about 20 minutes after my shower before I knock out from the Zoloft. But I was wide awake. So I laid down after hitting chapter 5 and yup, there it was. The drowsy. Straaaaange. Yes, I'm totally going to test that theory tonight too. Let's hope I get through another 5 chapters. Or 10. 10 would actually be really nice.

We're not here to talk about books. We talk books over there.

So I woke up today actually feeling really good. Normal. It felt like waking up on the first morning of Spring. Like it felt like the sun was shining through the window and you could smell the clean cotton air and you could feel that Spring warmth and that light breeze.... except I was in bed, it was cloudy outside and I was under my covers but the ceiling fan was on!

But it literally felt like a new day.

Almost like... the first day of my new life.

And that feelings of contentment almost happiness... I don't really want to call it that because I'm kind of afraid of the word... is still with me and it's almost 830PM. Today was a breeze. Nothing happened that bothered me or stressed me. I paid my phone bill and was fine even. And that little voice and urge of creativity and wanting to do things is pulling at my soul. I can feel it!

And I'm really excited to see what tomorrow will be like.

I also need to start adding pictures to these blog posts cause they're kinda boring without them and also... I need to fix this template. Like, seriously.

Oh hi, hello.

I never know how to start new blogs.

Should I give you a little background?

Should I just jump straight into the point?

Should I just babble? 

Does it even matter?!

I guess a blog like this might call for a little bit of background information --- if you care enough to read it.

I think looking back I've always had some sort of OCD tendency but it wasn't something that really bothered me or something I really thought about. Just a "quirk" I guess. It wasn't until around early 2004 that OCD started to creep in a little stronger.

Me and my boyfriend did a lot of napping after school. His house, my house, whatever. We were really big on napping. Well one afternoon his older brother was home and he was stepping on my boyfriends bed --- which I had just been napping on --- with his shoes on. ALL OVER THE PILLOW. I was disgusted. I told my boyfriend about it and his response? "Oh, he does that a lot."

Excuse me?

My face was just smashed into that pillow not too long ago as I was drifted into blissful sleep and you're saying I was basically cuddling up with whatever shit was on the bottom of his shoe?! 

Needless to say I went home that night and took the longest shower of my life before getting into my own bed for the night.

From there the OCD just got worse. I'd shower every night I came home from his house. Then it turned into I had to vacuum before showering before bed every night. Then other things started happening; I was really big on keeping things "clean" and I suddenly had excessive urges to wash my hands. To not walk around barefoot even though we have carpet. Certain things couldn't be touched after I took a shower if I wasn't sure if it was "clean" or not. If my hand grazed the wall on accident trying to turn on a light switch I'd have to wash my hands. I was set on doing my own laundry because I wanted to make sure it was "clean". I'd keep my door closed so my pets couldn't roam into my room making my floor "dirty" even though my mom still did it and it caused me to vacuum twice a day, every day. 

And the anxiety just kept getting worse and worse. I remember the peek of it. I remember how helpless and confined and scared and out of control I felt. I remember how crazy my thoughts were because I didn't know what was happening or why or where it came from. All I knew was that it felt like there was a parasite in my brain telling me these things that didn't make sense, these things I had to do in order to "be calm" and that voice was SO STRONG. I remember it being so very strong and I remember trying to fight it and breaking down and crying because fighting against it meant my anxiety would run wild. 

I battled depression since I was 13. But I battled it alone and in secret. My mom is a psych nurse and she could tell I was depressed growing up and she would always say, "if you're depressed let me know" but other times she would say "if they find out you're crazy they'll throw you in my hospital." and for a very long time I didn't want to go to the doctor about my depression or my OCD because I was scared they would think I was crazy and lock me away. And it's a shame I grew up thinking that, maybe I could had gotten help sooner. 

In 2006, my OCD had completely taken over my life and my thoughts and I was so far gone that I was completely out of control. I was miserable. I was pretending. I was a huge huge mess. And so I bit the bullet and I started looking for a therapist. It took me two tries to find the perfect one. The first one I saw did nothing but try to push drugs on me which I declined --- I wanted to beat this on my own. And she told me that there was no way to cure it with just therapy alone and it's hopeless to even try. The only way is with drugs. So I thanked her for her time and moved on. The second therapist I saw didn't mind that I declined drugs but he was curious to know my battle plan and for a number of years he supported whatever idea I came up with. While therapy did and did not help, I will forever me thankful for his support when I felt so completely lost. The last time I saw him was in 2008 and I saw him again at the end of 2012 and when he saw me he looked shocked and said "you're not wearing a hood today." and I said "no, I'm not." and he said "last time I saw you, you were really concerned about keeping your hair clean so you'd always wear a hood." and I had completely forgotten about that. It touched me that he remembered and he noticed. Even after all these years.

It's a shame I had to move across the country and find another therapist. No other will compare to his dedication and support.

So it is now 2014 and I've lived with the ups and downs of OCD for ten years. There are times when I will "be better" and there are times where I will relapse and I think with OCD, it's so easy to because it's not some physical thing you can put your finger on. It's something that just happens. You can't really control it physically, you can't see it and you can't touch it.

I recently made the decision to start medication. Because I can't do this on my own and it's gotten to the point where it's taking over my life again. So I'm on the lowest dosage of Zoloft, half a pill a day for 7 days then a full pill once a day for 7 more days just to see where it goes. While waiting for that to kick in I'm on an anti-anxiety medication called Clonazepam again the lowest dosage anywhere from 1/4 to half a pill three times a day or as needed. I usually take half a pill during the day and 1/4 at night since the mixture of both the Clonazepam and Zoloft makes me drowsy.

So, this is my journey. 

Hopefully into taking my life back.