#I haven't been able to eat properly in months. years really but this flare has been going on for months.

[dirtytransmasc]

having non chronically ill family is so fucking hard. they've never been ignored for years until there health issues have manifested from something manageable to something that will never go away, never stop hurting, never get better. they've never been ignored cause their BMI is above average so losing 10 pounds in the few months isn't a concern, never been told they should actually lose more weight while talking to a doctor about not being able to eat for days on end. they just don't understand and think that just because they're "going slow" at the start, means they'll actually do something in the long-term, when in reality, they either don't care or don't believe you and want to slap an anxiety diagnosis on you and move you on your way. they just don't understand.

[hussyknee]

Really struggling with self-hate. Intellectually I know this is due to anxiety and stress, and the past month has been pure chaos trying to look after Garfield.

Garfield is my neighbor's cat. Well, not anymore. He's mine now. He was sick as shit and they still weren't looking after him properly, hand-wringing over everything from lack of experience with cats to the fuel crisis. Certainly were quite happy to palm him off on me, because "he's not really ours, you know, he's a stray that found us a few years ago and the kid got fond of him". By the time I got him to the vet he was half-dead from...well, everything. He had cat flu, filaria, a tick fever that had burned through so many red blood cells it couldn't raise a temperature anymore, kidney damage and so dehydrated the needle could barely pierce his skin. I have no idea how he's alive. Well, I do, it's because he's a very tenacious little kitty and I took him to the clinic every day for a week for IVs, and kept him in my room and nursed him till I exhausted myself into an IBD flare. He relapsed twice. Then last week he seemed to have recovered enough that I was the sicker one, but then this week he started getting acute kidney failure, so we're back at the daily vet treatments.

I raised money for him on Twitter and some wonderful people sent enough to cover his medical bills, but the transport and food costs alone burned through all my money. I've been too exhausted and stressed to track my expenses or do my accounts, I flat broke by the beginning of the week and have had to ask my therapist for pro bono sessions from her clinic.

She's been a godsend, being a cat-lover herself, but also I might have alarmed her somewhat. Like, the whole reason I sought her out was because. Well, it was a last ditch effort really. The country situation and me going off my ADHD meds last month because I couldn't afford them didn't help (uh, protip: do not do that. Even if they're non-stimulants, like mine), but at one point I had made up my mind that if Garfield died it would be A Sign from the universe. Also when she asked me to check myself into a hospital if I felt like I couldn't trust myself, I was puzzled and said "why would I kill myself on impulse, it'll take weeks to get everything together if I was going to, I don't want to end up a vegetable". Which wasn't reassuring apparently? Neither was "Anyway, I can't top myself, Garfield is still sick." 😬

I'm still not sure what was so off about those responses, they still make sense to me. But my therapist wanted to set up a protocol and figure out avenues of physical support. Unfortunately, my family is estranged, only 3 of my closest friends live anywhere near me, and they're all also up shit creek. One of their mothers died a few days ago and I still haven't been able to visit. She's been so understanding and sweet about it, but when I tell you I feel like a shitheel.

I just. I don't know anymore. Gar's eating and drinking and the only outward sign that he's sick is the increased lethargy and sneezing. But his respiratory infection just isn't going away. As long as that persists, his kidneys can't get better, but giving him antibiotics for so long isn't doing them any favours either.

I'm using up all my energy caring for him but I don't see an end to it. My neighbors haven't been answering my messages, and anyway I'm damned if I trust them to look after him again. I tried so hard to find a caregiver for him while I was sick earlier this month, the tweeps sent even more money to offer one, but I couldn't.

In many wayos, caring for Garfield saved me from the black pit of despair I fell into after the protests unravelled. But now I feel so trapped. I haven't seen my doggos (they're with my ex) since June. I miss my other kitty cat (he's Mum's, but again I'm the only one who does more than coo at him). I miss having a life. My room and bathroom stink, and everything is chaos. I haven't sat down at my own desk in a month. And I'm still so scared this will all be for nothing and he'll die. I'm scared I'll have to make the choice to let him go. I refused to give up on my baby doggo boy two years ago, and as a result, instead of going peacefully in his sleep, I had to watch him go into acidosis and listen to his death rattle for an hour before the vet could get to us and sedate him through the final stretch. I will never let my selfishness do that to another animal. But I don't know if I'll survive having to let Gar slip away in my arms, after all these weeks of listening to his every breath. That still feels like it would be the tipping point.

I can't shake the idea that he would have recovered so much better and faster in someone else's hands. Someone healthy and abled and competent. Someone whose best efforts aren't so poor, pitiful and inadequate as mine. Everyone in my life deserves so much better than me.

[oldphelpsinator]

January 5th, 2020

It’s official. I’m having one of those nights.

My room is messy, I’m feeling kinda wired, I haven’t eaten food or drank water in the past few hours...

I really do NOT have time for mental health flare ups/episodes. I’m just trying to get through the last stretch of my training.

I think I was managing to avoid my emotions regarding the reality of what lies ahead for me. The challenges and everything. I’m kinda worried.

I haven’t reached out for any help or assistance with my mental health for years. I know I will have to this year; especially since it’s been a year and a half since finding out I am probably on the autism spectrum.

It’s hard. I do worry about whether or not I will be able to succeed when I find a new job. My mental health issues have caused enough problems in my interpersonal life, but they have also done decent damage with my past jobs I’ve had.

I am discouraged, as well. Because even though I want to want to be seen and heard and make wonderful connections with people, I know deep down I feel stunted and immobilized. I don’t want to be hurt again in love. By myself or by others. I just want to be put into some sort of robot mode so that I can function properly and efficiently in my daily life.

Heartbreak is annoying, and painful, yes. And I know that eventually you can move on and grow and all of that jazz. And you will meet others. But I kinda don’t want to? I am pretty burned out and tired. I just want to build a good life for myself and be left alone by any potential “love interests.”

Usually, if anyone shows signs of being interested in me, I get really nervous, uncomfortable, and put off. So many things go through my head. My potential Autism, my being on the Aro/Ace spectrum, my mild social anxiety, my mental health issues, my tendencies to get really attached to close friends and form strong bonds that usually eventually end in obsession, infatuation, and disaster.

It’s a lot to unpack, and I know everyone has their own baggage. But I know my baggage. It causes problems time and time again. And I end up hurt and depressed and wanting to distance myself from people even more than I did before.

Yeah. I need therapy. And I will find a therapist this year. I just need time and maybe a little luck? I’m 26 years old. Still trying to get myself to a level of basic of adulting without having a major fuck up or shit show financially, socially, or emotionally. There’s always something going on.

Well. It’s 2020. I manifested this training school. I had wanted it for the past few years and the Universe delivered about 10 months ago. I am 2 months from graduation, and I just need to keep my shit together a little longer.

Idk. Is it really so hard to imagine that there are people out there I haven't met yet who will care, and are open-minded and kind, and will be patient with my baggage, and show me love as well as letting me do the same?

Why does this paragraph remind me of that sad song at the beginning of James & The Giant Peach??? LOL

The effects of this mental episode had me fading in and out between feelings of anguish and a state of clearheadedness. I'm kinda leveled out now, though. A bit numb.

I might eat some Frosted Flakes because I don’t feel like making a full ramen meal.

Kinda want to just go to sleep. I'll choose one.