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sisterssafespace · 3 years

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Asalaam alaikum.. can you advise on how to deal with anxiety?

و عليكم السلام و رحمة الله و بركاته 🤍

أعوذ بالله من الشيطان الرجيم

بسم الله الرحمان الرحيم،

ٱذۡهَبۡ إِلَىٰ فِرۡعَوۡنَ إِنَّهُۥ طَغَىٰ (24) قَالَ رَبِّ ٱشۡرَحۡ لِي صَدۡرِي (25) وَيَسِّرۡ لِيٓ أَمۡرِي (26) وَٱحۡلُلۡ عُقۡدَةٗ مِّن لِّسَانِي (27) يَفۡقَهُواْ قَوۡلِي (28) وَٱجۡعَل لِّي وَزِيرٗا مِّنۡ أَهۡلِي (29) هَٰرُونَ أَخِي (30) ٱشۡدُدۡ بِهِۦٓ أَزۡرِي (31) وَأَشۡرِكۡهُ فِيٓ أَمۡرِي (32) كَيۡ نُسَبِّحَكَ كَثِيرٗا (33) وَنَذۡكُرَكَ كَثِيرًا (34) إِنَّكَ كُنتَ بِنَا بَصِيرٗا (35) قَالَ قَدْ أُوتِيتَ سُؤْلَكَ يَا مُوسَى (36)

24. Go to Pharaoh; He has transgressed.” 25. He said, “My Lord, put my heart at peace for me. 26. And ease my task for me. 27. And untie the knot from my tongue. 28. So they can understand my speech. 29. And appoint an assistant for me, from my family. 30. Aaron, my brother. 31. Strengthen me with him. 32. And have him share in my mission. 33. That we may glorify You much. 34. And remember You much. 35. You are always watching over us.” 36. [Allāh] said, "You have been granted your request, O Moses

ٱذۡهَبَآ إِلَىٰ فِرۡعَوۡنَ إِنَّهُۥ طَغَىٰ (43) فَقُولَا لَهُۥ قَوۡلٗا لَّيِّنٗا لَّعَلَّهُۥ يَتَذَكَّرُ أَوۡ يَخۡشَىٰ (44) قَالَا رَبَّنَآ إِنَّنَا نَخَافُ أَن يَفۡرُطَ عَلَيۡنَآ أَوۡ أَن يَطۡغَىٰ (45) قَالَ لَا تَخَافَآۖ إِنَّنِي مَعَكُمَآ أَسۡمَعُ وَأَرَىٰ (46)

43. Go to Pharaoh. He has tyrannized. 44. But speak to him nicely. Perhaps he will remember, or have some fear.” 45. They said, “Lord, we fear he may persecute us, or become violent.” 46. He said, “Do not fear, I am with you, I hear and I see.

Surat Ta Ha (20) - طه 🤍

Dear sister, I found myself starting with these two passages that are of my absolute favorite passages in the holy Quran in general and in Surat Ta Ha in particular because in my mind when I hear the word anxiety it always connects to surat Ta Ha or what I love to call my anti-anxiety pill. Alhamdulillah.

Now why these passages? It might not be known or talked about a lot, but these verses are a proof that prophet Musa (as) had anxiety. In these verses, Allah swt orders him to go speak to the pharaoh, arguably the most tyrannizing criminal that this earth has seen. This task spikes prophet Musa's anxiety and in the first passage he asks Allah swt to (relax his chest) put his heart at peace and ease his affairs, then he requests support from a family member, his brother Harun (as) - and it is also interpreted that prophet Musa (as) had speech impairment, he has problems in his speech? Thus the " untie the knot from my tongue " duaa he made for Allah swt, so he needed to be also backed up by his brother. Can you imagine the amount of anxiety he must have been feeling and going through? Not only the Lord of the Worlds was directly speaking to him ( a surreal supernatural experience ) but also He swt was giving him such a BIG task! I mean sis! I have a thesis I need to finish and it feels like there is a mountain sitting on my chest 24/7, even when I sleep at night I have nightmares about it. And whenever I have to make an important phone call or go into the principal's office at work, I get the whole rapid heartbeats, stomachache, joint pain, shaky voice and whatnot. You know the drill.. Anyways, back to Musa (as), so what does Allah swt say? He swt doesn't tell him that he (Musa) is crazy or delusional, He swt doesn't accuse him of lack of faith, or of being dominated by the Shaytan's waswasah (whispers) like these now Shaykhs throw at us. He swt is the all-knowing, the most just, the most fair, the most merciful and the most gracious. He swt not only acknowledges prophet Musa (as)'s fear and immediately reassures him and calms his heart : you have been granted your request! " Ya Allah.. this gets me every time wallahi.

You know what's the thing we need the most when our anxiety hits? Reassurance. Full stop. Reassurance silences all the voices inside our heads, calms us down, puts our hearts to ease. And what a better place to get reassurance from other than Allah swt?

And Allah swt does it again, further down in the Surah, when faces with the task again prophet Musa (as) voices his worries again, and Allah swt doesn't get fed up with him, doesn't accuse him of being a coward or annoying.. He swt patiently assures him that He swt is with him and with his brother, He swts hears and listens. I once heard a tafseer for this verse that compares it to a mother's love, when her child goes out to play and she will reassure them by saying she is around not far away she could see them from the window and hear them if they need anything. How comforting, sübhanallah.

With that being said and clarified, let me cut to the chase before the post gets too long.

The first step to dealing with your anxiety is to actually accept it. Never be ashamed of it. It is something that even a high-ranking prophet experienced. It is not a sin, it is not your fault, it is just the way your brain is wired. And it is something that Allah swt is testing you with. And the first step to pass your test is to actually acknowledge and accept it. For me, it felt like my whole life made sense the moment I was diagnosed with anxiety. When my therapist actually uttered the words, which wasn't a long time ago, I felt so sorry for all the girls that I have been, throughout the different stages of my life whom had to struggle and push through the pain, the dilemma, the countless anxiety attacks and made it through without actually knowing what they had, while being called crazy, gaslit, disregard, attacked, humiliated, mocked, bullied, etc.. for something that they didn't do nor did they understand. So my first advice to you is to befriend your anxiety, you win nothing by fighting it and making it your enemy. On the contrary, she (oh trust me it's a she, lmao) is a part of who you are, to the point that it could define some of your personality traits, she lives in your head rent free, she is not going anywhere anytime soon, so you better make peace with her. Rejecting, hating, attacking, blaming your anxiety will only make it worse.

Another basic advice is to actually study it, learn it, identify your triggers, be in tone with your body, pay attention to your mood changes, your heart rate, the stomach pain, or whatever symptoms you experience, and identify the act or event or task that generated and triggered those symptoms. That's how you find your triggers, and then next time when you anticipate that thing, you could go through it in your head, you could rehearse or make plans, you could take all your precautions and whatnot.

As for remedies, I am no therapist, so I am not allowed to prescribe anything, but I do take pills myself when necessary. God knows sometimes it gets too much. Breathing helps. Deep thorough breaths from the tummy, they can help calm your heartbeats.. if when you feel anxious about something you would have the time to read some Quran then please do it, it really calms you down and distracts you from the problem even momentarily. Umm, you can listen to your comfort audio (be it a quran recitation or something like I have already mentioned in the post earlier today), talk to someone who makes you comfortable, whether a parent, a partner, a sibling, a best friend... and finally, I will give you my therapist's golden tip: if it doesn't work, ASK FOR HELP.

And eventually, always go back to Allah swt, the source of all comfort, the source of all reassurance and the source of all good. Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) said, "Allah said, 'I am to my slave as he thinks of Me, (i.e. I am able to do for him what he thinks I can do for him). So always try to think (after you are done freaking out 😅) that Allah swt has got you, and that probably all the bad things that you are scared of won't even come true. Allah swt is the most merciful and the most gracious, He swt is the best of planners and no one has out best interest more than the Pne who created us. Alhamdulillah.

Tbh, I could go on about this for days, but I think I have written the longest answer for an ask in the history of Tumblr. So imma stop here.

I will leave you with 3 very meaningful duaas that are supposed to be recited in the morning and evening adhkar, try to incorporate them in your daily routine, and you will soon notice the difference, bi idhn Allah :)

- بسم الله الذي لا يضر مع اسمه شيء في الأرض و لا في السماء و هو السميع العليم ×3

In the name of Allah with whose name nothing is harmed on earth nor in the heavens and He is The All-Seeing, The All-Knowing. x3

حسبي الله لا إله إلا هو عليه توكلت وهو رب العرش العظيم ×7

Allah is sufficient for me, none has the right to be worshipped except Him, upon Him I rely and He is Lord of the exalted throne. x7

اللَّهُمَّ إِنِّي أَسْأَلُكَ الْعَافِيَةَ فِي الدُّنْيَا وَالآخِرَةِ، اللَّهُمَّ إِنِّي أَسْأَلُكَ الْعَفْوَ وَالْعَافِيَةَ فِي دِينِي وَدُنْيَايَ وَأَهْلِي وَمَالِي، اللَّهُمَّ استُرْ عَوْرَاتي، وآمِنْ رَوْعَاتي، اللَّهمَّ احْفَظْنِي مِنْ بَينِ يَدَيَّ، ومِنْ خَلْفي، وَعن يَميني، وعن شِمالي، ومِن فَوْقِي، وأعُوذُ بِعَظَمَتِكَ أنْ أُغْتَالَ مِنْ تَحتي ×1

O Allah, I ask You for pardon and well-being in this life and the next. O Allah, I ask You for pardon and well-being in my religious and worldly affairs, and my family and my wealth. O Allah, veil my weaknesses and set at ease my dismay, and preserve me from the front and from behind and on my right and on my left and from above, and I take refuge with You lest I be swallowed up by the earth

P.s. you should know that I have written this answer for hours, taking as many breaks as my heart and my mind needed. I hope I managed to make a good enough answer for you 🤍.

May Allah swt calm your worries, and grant your heart sakinah and reassurance. Ameen.

Stay safe my dear, and don't hesitate to talk to me whenever it gets too much.

- A. Z. 🍃

#anxiety #sisterssafespace #surat ta ha

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moggieblanket-blog · 6 years

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My Autism Evaluation

I wanted to write this for a number of reasons. First, I wanted to provide an explanation of the process I went through in order to help those who are currently seeking a diagnosis, to give them a better idea of what they might reasonably expect to experience. Secondly, I see many posts on this site which dismiss official diagnoses with statements like, “All they do is give you a list of traits to fill out!” or, “Doctors sometimes don’t have enough experience in X disorder to know what they’re talking about!”

I cannot speak for other diagnoses, but I can tell you now that as far as autism is concerned (and also ADHD; I will add a post about my diagnostic experience with that condition once I receive my assessment results), the number of tests which rely on quantitative data (e.g hard numbers that leave no room for interpretation), external family input, and the observations of both a primary and secondary diagnostician, both in the room at the same time, and who later compare notes, mean that a single doctor’s interpretation or idea of what autism does or doesn’t look like is largely irrelevant to the diagnosis.

For the way in which I was assessed, if you met the numeric cutoff for the various tests, you got the diagnosis, if you didn’t, you didn’t. There was really no room for doctor bias or opinion. I was 21 years old at the time of testing.

My diagnostic evaluation took place in increments over a period of five days that spanned a three-month period between February and April. The eval was administered by a graduate student who was being filmed and mentored by a doctor in psychology. The student met with the psychologist after each of my sessions, and the footage and test results were reviewed and discussed.

My initial appointment was two hours long. It consisted of a detailed intake evaluation which included questions about my current and childhood histories; my family and relationships; the symptoms I experienced both past and present; questions about physical illnesses, any substance abuse, trauma, and all other meaningful life events (family deaths, divorce, etc.). I was given basic one-page screenings for symptoms of depression and anxiety (neither of which I had in sufficient quantities at that time to warrant diagnosis; those would come later). I was also given two different multi-page forms for my parents to fill out (my mother completed mine.) They asked detailed open-ended questions about my early childhood and development, any anomolies or missed milestones, my medical history, etc. They also included at least 50 likert-scale questions (questions whose responses are chosen from a multi-point scale; e.g 1-5 with 1 being mildest and 5 being most severe) about traits I exhibited throughout my childhood which would be specific indicators of ASD. My mother filled these out independently with zero input from me.

My second appointment occurred two weeks later. I submitted all of the paperwork I and my parents had been given to complete, and was given an IQ test, specifically the WAIS-IV (Welscher Adult Intelligence Scale edition 4). This test took two hours to complete, and consisted of spatial reasoning and pattern-recognition tasks (creating patterns from blocks, visually constructing complex illustrated shapes by selecting a specific quantity of smaller illustrated components, the trail test, etc.). Following that were tests of short-term memory and memorization; auditory processing; abstract language abilities (e.g similarities between given words, word definitions, etc.); mental arithmetic and number manipulation; and general knowledge assessment (e.g who was X famous dead person? What does this formula mean? etc.)

The second appointment also included a self-test to pinpoint features of psychotic or personality disorders such as Schizophrenia, Antisocial personality disorder, Bipolar disorder, etc. This was not a basic test in which answers could be fabricated to achieve a specific result. It had a built-in failsafe which allowed the examiner to determine if the answers were genuine or being manipulated during scoring.

Appointment number three took another two hours, during which I was given the WIAT-II (Welscher Individual Achievement Test, edition 2). This was a test of academic achievement which screened for academic ability, particularly as it related to the overall intelligence scores attained on the IQ test. It was used to determine the presence of any learning disabilities, and examined everything from oral reading ability to reading and writing comprehension; spelling; basic and advanced mathematics and processing speed.

The final appointment before sitting down to discuss test results took just under an hour. The grad student who had been examining me performed the ADOS-2 (Autism Diagnostic Observation Schedule edition 2, module 4 for fully verbal adults). Sitting to the side to observe our interactions and score the test, was a second grad student.

This test was a semi-structured interaction between the examiner and myself, during which time the examiner presented a multitude of activities which were designed to elicit specific responses, the nature of which could indicate the presence or absence of autism. It “pressed” for responses to social reciprocity; attempts at social overtures; nonverbal body language; idiosyncradic language or behaviours; odd or extremely narrow interests; complex body movements; theory of mind; and the understanding of complex social behaviours such as friendship, marriage, and emotional expression.

The fifth appointment was when I finally received the results of my evaluation. The grad student who had tested me gave me an 18-page document detailing every aspect of the assessment, from the details of our conversations about my childhood and experiences, to breakdowns of the scores on all of my various tests and explanations of their meanings, and a multi-paragraph examination of my ADOS results, along with a quantitative chart denoting my scores relative to each social press.

Page 14 noted that I officially met the necessary criteria for an autism spectrum diagnosis, and that I had no learning disabilities or depression, but that my anxiety, while not severe enough to warrant a diagnosis, was high enough to be in need of monitoring.

The four pages after that contained a number of recommendations for future treatment, including individual therapy, social skills group, medication, and continued self-education.

And there you have it. As you can see, an autism evaluation, when conducted properly, is so much more than just a doctor giving you a checklist of symptoms, or of you describing your symptoms to a psychologist and their saying, “Yep, sounds like autism!” It is very detailed and complex, and takes a lot of time and energy, both on the part of the person being evaluated, and on that of the diagnostician. It is not a simple thing, but, at the end of the day, you can rest assured that the testing was thorough and in earnest, not something that was cobbled together halfheartedly.

This is why I get so frustrated when I read things like, “I know myself better than a doctor does!” or, “Doctors make mistakes too!” Of course doctors make mistakes, they are human too. The difference is, doctors are far, far less likely to make a mistake than a layman reading information on the internet, because they’ve studied their specific field for years, and taken very specific, very difficult licensing exams to be able to conduct testing. Doctors also have the ability to use objective, quantitative evaluations of your strengths and weaknesses to reach conclusions about you that you didn’t know about yourself. For example, I suspected that my atrocious math skills were a result of dyscalculia. They’re not. They’re the result of a severely diminished processing speed (as in 13th percentile severe, meaning that 87% of the adult population has a processing speed that is faster than mine). If I had just rattled off a list of symptoms to my psychologist and said, “I really suck at math,” and she took that at face value, I could easily have been misdiagnosed with dyscalculia and given inappropriate treatment. I don’t need to be taught math differently, I just need to be taught it more slowly. Please remember this post the next time you see someone say, “Professional diagnosis is no more valid than self-diagnosis because professionals just listen to you talk about symptoms and give you a checklist off the internet!” Thank you.

TLDR: My autism eval was very long, very time and energy-intensive, used a variety of different standardized testing measures, and was generally a lot more complex than being given a questionnaire by my therapist or reeling off my symptoms and being told, “Yep, it’s autism!”

#actuallyautistic #evaluation #self-diagnosis #self-dx #ados #iq test #prof dx

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xloveyouanywayx · 6 years

Text

Day 1

Everything reminds me of you and it makes me so sad.

I had to change my phone background but now that you’re not the first thing I see when I look at it, it hurts just as much because I know I have to forget you. I also changed my computer background and I’m afraid to close the windows that are open because I know that it’s not you I’ll see and it will make me sad. I wasn’t able to change my status on Facebook. I just hurt too much. It’s silly because it’s not like anybody would know, I could hide it, but it just makes it way too real. I’m not ready for that. I still have hope. And as this one guy said in a TED Talk, hope can be destructive with a broken heart.

I can’t play words with friends. It only reminds me of you. I want to play with you, I wonder if there is anything wrong with continuing our games. But I know I shouldn’t. I’m just terrified about the day the games will expire. Have we expired too? I have kept playing with Scotty. Sometimes, I can’t open the app, it just gives me anxiety. Other times, I go as if nothing has changed. I think it’s because sometimes, it feels just the same. The distance, the time difference. It’s just when I realize that I shouldn’t reach out that I remember why it’s not the same. Not the same at all.

I did Adriene’s yoga for a broken heart this morning and I was thinking that maybe you were doing it too. Is your heart broken as well?

I was offered a chance to go visit farmers in the Kickapoo Valley today but I said no. I don’t think I’m in the right state of mind. Am I sabotaging my research? I don’t know. But what would it look like for me to burst into tears because the country side and the farms remind me of you?

I so wanted to text you last night. But I didn’t. I hope you’re gonna text me first. But I know I’ll probably cave first.

I don’t know who to talk to about all this. I am kind of lonely here. Scotty has been of great support but it makes me a little uncomfortable. He’s still your friend before mine and I can’t have him be too close or I’ll never get over you. I talked to Saida and I’m seeing her today. She is always so good with this, so helpful. She said that it’s ok for me to miss you and love you and want to see you and talk to you. I really do. I miss you. I love you. I want to see you, hear your voice, talk to you. She asked what I would do if you showed up at my door today. And I know exactly what I would do, but I know you’re not gonna show up. You’re not one to really fight, at least for our relationship. And it hurts so much.

I can’t believe all this has been written before 10 am. I know more is coming because there is so much more left to the day.

I wonder if I should tell Mike about our break-up. He’s understanding and only wants what’s good for me. I don’t know if I’ll be ready to write my exam on Monday. I’m such a mess. Update: I emailed him.

Cooper has been so helpful. He keeps snuggling with me. He’s so sweet and caring. I’m so grateful for him right now. He lies down next to me and let’s me pet him for a long time. I think he knows something is wrong. His body is warm against mine and it feels good. Sometimes it feels like he’s almost purring. I love it. He sheds a lot though, there is cat hair everywhere.

Things that reminded me of you today: Jeeps, Cooper’s tavern, the Capitol square, a picture of a knife just like yours, milkshakes.

When I cry a lot, I get cat hair in my mouth. It’s everywhere in the apartment. It’s both disgusting and a little funny.

I texted you today after I received the Ragstock gift card. I don’t know if I should have because immediately after I started freaking out. You responded quite quickly but I realized that I had been holding my breath the whole time. I had a panic attack. It was the first one ever. My heart was beating like crazy, I couldn’t breathe, I wasn’t able to cry either. I understood then that knowing that you might never respond, that you didn’t have any reason to, that it was probably better if you didn’t, almost crushed me. It didn’t last long but after that I felt weak and exhausted. I just want you in my life and knowing that you can’t be because we both need to move on and heal is hurting me.

I believe that you should try to get help. Because what you carry – the fear, the shame, the anger – is preventing you from letting go of the past. You’re still mad and ashamed of what happened to you and you can’t get on with your life and love. I so wish you would be able to fix that in time for us to still work out. But I know it probably won’t be the case because you might never get help at all or because when you do, it will require time and it will be too late for us. That also breaks my heart. I want you to get better and be happy, but God, I wish it could be with me. I was worried this was going to happen. I told you once how our relationship would end up being this moment in your life where you realized you had to do something so you would get better. And ultimately, that’s all this is gonna be in your memory; a turning point to something better. With someone else. It breaks my heart. Because you are amazing and I want to be by your side forever. Once you’re healed, you will be glowing and I want to be there. I just know this isn’t healthy to wish for.

I went to the garden today. God, what a mess it is. A lot happened there since I last went. It looks like my life. Or my heart. Or my head. Messy, confusing, polluted, damaged. It’s not surprising. I only stayed an hour but I cleaned out as much as I could. I didn’t do a very good job, I wasn’t as thorough as I should have been. You’ve always done such a good job of cleaning up, never letting anything that wasn’t supposed to grow and take over. I let things grow. I let the mess gather until it’s just too much and I can’t handle it anymore. The tomato plants look great though. They’re almost a foot tall. I can’t believe I grew them myself from seed. I am really proud. I’m very worried that I won’t be able to take good care of it though. The whole thing is just so big. I will never be able to eat everything that grows on there. I wish you could be here with me to work on it and reap the reward. I can’t believe that it has happened a second time. Last year already, I had started the season alone when I had planned to share the plot, the time, the food, and the memory with someone. Here it is again. I had dreamed of that plot being ours, for real this time. And now you’re gone. You’re not just gone to another place. You have also left my life. It hurts.

I found this podcast that I like. I searched for ‘broken heart’ and it came up. It’s called Head to Heart. I love how the speakers are so honest about their pain, their flaws, their fears. It’s easy to identify with them. They’re Christian and it’s interesting how they include God in their conversation. I’m not religious so I replace it by love in my head and it speaks to me a little more. I don’t think I’m wrong to equate God with love. It got a little too much though in the 3rd one. Maybe it’s because I can’t really relate to what they’re talking about when they bring up their experience talking to God and having him respond. It makes me curious though. I kind of envy them. I wish we could talk about it. I wish you could give me your point of view. I think by your side I could have started to believe in God. In some ways. Well, I’m sure you’re going to like it.

I broke my rule again today and texted you the link to the podcast. I don’t know if I should have. I just felt like this was really helpful and I want to help you. Because of all people, you’re the one I know understand what I am going through because you’re going through it yourself. You thanked me and told me it was hard not to talk to me, that you missed me. I read your message and my hands were shaking. I want you to miss me. I want you to regret all of this and fight to fix it. But before we can fix us, you need to fix yourself. I probably need to fix myself too. I just don’t know what’s wrong with me. You, you kind of know where to start. You said you missed talking to me and I almost invited you to talk to me anyway. Because I miss the sound of your voice. I miss you. But I am not your therapist, I can’t help you get better. I’ve tried and I wasn’t able to. This is something you have to do on your own. I hope you get there. I hope you feel better. But there will be days where I miss you more than I can handle and I will reach out to you. I will force myself to wait until I can no longer hold it and I think after some time, my need to talk to you will fade and I will feel better. I hope when I feel the need to talk to you, you will let me in. I would understand if you don’t however, I know you need to heal too. Gosh, I can’t believe how much I love you and how much I miss you. This is hard. So, so hard. I know what we had wasn’t perfect but I think we could have made it pretty amazing. But that would have required you to be able to give yourself fully and be ready to jump in, which you weren’t and I get it. It just makes me sad.

I have this lump... down there. It wasn’t here yesterday and it hurts a little. I think it might just be an ingrown hair but it’s quite large under my fingers, bigger than a grain of rice. I saw it this morning and it worried me. Then I forgot about it. Tonight, I have this small area of my thigh that feels weird, like it’s cold or wet when it’s not. I wonder if this thing is maybe pushing on a nerve. I’m also wondering if it’s a ganglion. It’s not exactly located where it’s supposed to so I’m not sure. My biggest guess is that my body is reacting to the pain and stress in my heart and brain. I hope it’s nothing bad. I’ll call UHS on Monday to schedule an appointment. I tried to do it online but wasn’t able to and, on the phone, they can’t do anything. What’s the point of all this, really?

Talking about Monday, Mike responded to my email about my exam and moving it back a little more. He was so understanding and helpful. He told me to take my time to feel better and to email him again on Tuesday to let him know if I would want to start on Wednesday. He said that if I needed more time, he would make it work. He’s so kind, I feel so lucky.

It makes me sad that I’m telling you this here. I wish I could tell you in person, either by text or on the phone. I wish we could just chat like we used to. I miss you. I miss you so much. I understand why you want to stay friends with your exes now. Because you’re all I had in my life and I don’t want to lose you. Right now, I would be ready to keep texting you about random things as if nothing had happened. But I know this can happen. I’ll never get over you if we do that. If I were certain you would get help and then come back to me, then maybe I’d do it. But without this promise, I just can’t risk the pain. I wonder if that’s something we should talk about. Should I ask you if you’d be willing to recontact me when you’re better to see if we can try again? But what if I’ve moved on and because of what I said, you didn’t. Can we say that we’re taking a break? Is that really a thing? Is that healthy? Would our issues – your inability to commit, my mistrust, your attachment to the past – come back to ruin our relationship a second time? I don’t know how people do that. It’s so terrifying.

I’m starting season 4 of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmitt tonight. I hope it’s still funny. You should watch season 3 and catch up. I wanted to watch Coco on Netflix but I figured I should keep movies for when I’m taking a break in my exam and binge watch the show now that I can say I’m trying to get better. Update: It was good but only 6 episodes!

Good night darling. I love you and I miss you.

#diary of a broken heart #Josh #I love you #i miss you

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lizzieanderummel · 7 years

Text

this is some piece i wrote when me and pam were doing a revamp and i was super obsessed with birdman so i wanted to use the gifs of emma and ed norton so i wrote in parker

"Elizabeth, it’s nice to finally meet you!” Dr. James Mareson says to her softly. He’s in his mid-30′s, a yuppie looking guy. “It’s nice to meet you too.” She stands, following him into his office. He motions for her to sit on the couch, but she knows the drill by now. He takes a seat across from her, and smiles. “So what brought on our meeting today?” “Well, my boyfriend, Parker, is concerned about my.." She hesitates, "issues.. when it comes to handling my anger.” “And you’ve been to anger management classes before?” He asks, writing in his notepad. “Yes, he sent me to a group thing a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t comfortable with other people being there.” Liz sighs. “It made me angrier.” “He sent you?”

“Yeah.” He writes something down. “And before that?”

“Well,” Liz starts, crossing her legs. “I’ve taken a few therapy sessions here and there.” “And Parker, tell me more about him. How long have you two been seeing each other? What does he do?” “Didn’t you talk to him?” She laughs, remembering Parker coming home and telling her she has an appointment. “I did, but I want to hear from you.” He points his pen at her. “Um- well, we’ve been dating for almost four months." "And?"

"He's a professional actor, he's funny, but not like intentionally, like where he's trying too hard.. He's kind of an asshole, but not in a mean way, he's arrogant, but he's an actor.." "What else?"

"He has two daughters, and he's great with them. He's not what you expect when you first meet him.. I’m completely crazy for him.” She smiles.

“And you’re moving in with him?” “Yes.” She says, pulled from her thoughts. “And that’s what brought on him wanting you to see me?” “Well, he and his ex wife have two kids, and if I’m moving in I’ll be around a lot, and they’ll be around a lot, and he’s concerned that I won’t have the patience to.. be with them.” “Okay, so you’ve been dating for four months, you’re moving in together, and he has two kids?” The doctor asks in an almost critical voice. “Yes?” Liz asks, angry, not appreciative of someone criticizing her life choices. “I’m not paying you to criticize me, I’m paying you to help me, so if there’s some concern with my lifestyle choices, I can go find another therapist-” “And that’s exactly why you’re here.” He smiles at her. “Is this mainly a concern for him, or for you?” “Him. I’m doing this for him, I think I’m fine.” “You think that you’re fine?” “Well better than I have been.” Liz corrects herself. “And you’re not concerned?” “I would never yell at his kids.” “No?” “No, they wouldn’t know better. Adults know better.” She shrugs. This among many other reasons is why she’d never yell at them.”

“So this is a problem that occurs often?” She nods. “Are there any people in particular that trigger anger?”

“I guess like my dad, previous relationships.”

“Your dad?”

“Well.. one of them..” She shrugs. “I think we’re too much alike.” ”Does it disrupt your relationship with him?”

“I don’t know.” She says honestly. “We haven’t spoken in a while.”

“How long?”

“I guess a few months.” She shrugs. 3 months, and 17 days is the truth, but she doesn’t want it to sound like she cares that much.

“Is this a new trigger for you, or has it been going on for a while?”

“It’s been going on since I was like 15.”

“Around the time your bulimia began?” James asks her, and she nods.

“Around then.”

“And I’m assuming it hurt your relationships with your friends, and siblings?”

“I would assume so.”

“Do you want to talk about them?” He sets the clipboard behind him, on his desk.

“Who would you like to hear about?”

“Whoever you want to start with.” She doesn’t begin speaking. “How about your friends?”

“I- I didn’t really have friends.” Liz’s mind quickly flashes to Aaron, but Aaron never was really just a friend.

“Boyfriends?” He asks.

“I guess it made that area harder.”

“Your anger made it harder?”

“Yeah, and there was the whole sneaking around because y’know..” Liz says, referring to her bulimia.

“But the unreasonable anger was the biggest problem?” He asks.

“I had a lot of problems at the time.”

“And you’d take them out on the people around you?”

“Basically.” She smiles a little bit.

...

“I’ve been in contact with you doctor in Lima, and you were last diagnosed with Bipolar disorder, correct?” He says, as she takes a seat on the sofa. It’s been a week since her last session. “Yes.” “And that was when you were 19?” “Yep.” Liz nods, bitting her bottom lip. “And before that depression?” “Yep.” She nods again. “And before that Bipolar, then before that it was depression again, and then just bulimia before that one.” “Has anyone talked to you about the possibility of borderline personality disorder?” Dr. Mareson asks her. “Like hearing voices?” “No, that’s schizophrenia. Borderline personality disorder personality is very different. I believe what happened is what happens to a lot of people, you were misdiagnosed for bipolar.” He explains gently. “When you experience moods, especially anger and love, do they alternate weekly, or hourly?”

“What?” She asks, confused by everything.

James begins reading her, from a textbook, what it means to have borderline personality disorder. She fits almost every category. She listens to him explain how BDP and eating disorders go hand in hand together.

“So your changing my diagnosis?” She asks.

“Yes.” He nods.

“What do I do?” Liz says, unsure about her medication.

“Well, I’m going to find someone to refer you to for therapy-”

“Refer?” She interrupts. “You’re sending me to someone else?”

“I think we can find someone better to see you-”

“I know what a referral means, and I know it means your going to run me around in circles until I give up.”

“That’s not what’s going to happen.” He says, moving to the seat across from her. “I don’t think I’m the best person to help you.”

“Why?” She feels her anger building up slowly.

“BDP is incredibly.. thorough. I want you to get the best treatment.”

“Way to bring the abandonment issues into this.”

“What?” He asks, putting down his clipboard.

“I just said way to bring the abandonment thing into this.” She shrugs.

“Into what?”

“Well I come in and you’re all like ‘you’re scared of people leaving you’ blah blah blah.” She mocks his voice. “Then your all like ‘well, I guess I’m abandoning you now-”

“Okay, Elizabeth, I get it.” James presses two fingers to the bridge of his nose. “You can stay.”

...

“I mean, there was a lot of stuff. I don’t even know who’s fault it was. The angry part of my mind blames him, but that sane part knows it was my fault.”

“Now, looking back, how do you feel about Jeremy?” He asks her. Her views of Jeremy were constantly alternating between a strong desire to impress, and prove that she deserved him to hating him, and believing he was the worst thing that had ever happened to her.

“I’m not sure, everything is so distorted. I think he knew I wasn’t 100% with him, y’know. I was always somewhere else. There was an ongoing fight to spite the other one more, or at least there was from me..” “So overall an unhealthy relationship.” “Oh, yes. Of course.” Liz pauses. “No, I don’t know.” “What do you mean by spite?”

“I would just do things to upset him, like hanging out with people that hated him.. I kissed someone else in front of him, so he’d see, things like that..”

“But it alternated, correct?”

“When I loved Jeremy, I really loved Jeremy, y’know? I wanted to be with him all the time, but when I hated him, I really hated him.. Or maybe I didn’t. Maybe I made up the hatred to avoid blaming myself..” Liz shakes her head, unsure of almost everything.

“Have you spoken to him recently? Talked to him about these things?” He asks, leaning forward.

“No, I haven’t heard from him since I was 18.” She runs her fingers through her hair, and looks around the room.

“Why don’t we, together, try and contact him? We could work through some of the distorted memories that are still hurting you.”

“I don’t know if they’re really that serious.” Liz says.

“Why don’t we give it a try. You could say your apologies-”

“I don’t have any apologies.” She laughs.

“You’ve told me on multiple occasions that you felt bad about the way you treated him.”

“But that doesn’t mean I want to-”

“You don’t want to admit that you were wrong, but I think it will make you feel better.”

“Look, I wouldn’t even know where to find him at, he disappeared after he graduated.”

“Have you checked Facebook?”

“I’m 21, of course I’ve checked Facebook.” She says as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Either he doesn’t have one, or I’m blocked.. Probably blocked.”

“Blocked?”

“I’d block me. He probably wouldn’t want to hear anything I have to say anyways.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I’m fucking crazy.” Liz sits up from her position of lying on the couch, and crosses her legs.

“You’re not crazy, you are mentally ill. There is nothing wrong with having BDP.” James says softly. “Now, will you at least let me try and help you find him?”

... “I fucked up.” Liz says as she enters James’ office. It’s a sunny Thursday afternoon. James is a little startled by her abrupt entrance. He’s eating an apple.

“What?”

“I- I relapsed. I mean, I guess it’s not that bad, but it’s been a while so it freaked me out.”

“Okay, take a seat,” He puts down the apple, “And we’ll talk about it.” Liz sits down, and puts her hands on her knees. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” She sits quickly. “I don’t know.”

“Well, when?”

“Yesterday.”

“What time?” He asks, standing, and moving from his desk, to the seat in front of her.

“1 o’clockish.”

“Were you home alone?” James leans forward.

“Yeah.” Liz nods.

“I hear that from you a lot now, y’know?” He observes.

“Yeah, with the show happening, Parker’s not home, and the girls stay with Sheryl.” Liz says, having not fully realized how often she was alone until saying it out loud.

“Maybe you should try going back to school?” Liz shakes her head immediately.

“I don’t have time.”

“Liz.” James places his chin in his hands, sighs, then sits up straight again. “Where do you see the relationship going, really?”

“I don’t know, honestly.” She admits.

“Do you want to spend the rest of your life like this?” Liz stares at him, then shakes her head. “Then we need to figure out something for you to do.” Liz doesn’t say anything. He hands her a piece of paper and marker. “Okay, write down everything you wanted as a kid. Circle the things you have.”

...

Liz disassociates a lot after the break up. It helps her get through the long, boring days, and it helps her get through how weird it is sleeping in the apartment. It’s around 7:00 am on a Thursday. It’s a grey morning, and traffic is beginning to form. She ‘s taking a walk through Central Park with all the joggers and bikers when her phone rings. “Hello?” She answers, and takes a seat on a nearby bench.

“Elizabeth? This James” He says, and pauses for an answer. When she doesn’t he continues. “Anyways, I was concerned because you missed your appointments last week.”

“Yeah, um- sorry for not calling.” She says sincerely.

“It’s okay, we’ll talk about it later today.” She says nothing. “You are coming in later, right?”

“About that..” Liz starts. “I’m actually not going to be coming in anymore.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just- I’m moving back to Ohio, and I can’t really come in.”

“Your moving back to Ohio?” He asks, sounding confused.

“Yeah, um, Parker and I broke up.” She says, struggling for words.

“You should come in today, and we’ll talk about it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I just can’t, I have to get a plane ticket-”

“Is it a money thing?” She pulls the phone away from her face, and takes a deep breath.

“Thank you for your help.” She says.

“Do you have someone in Lima that will see you?”

“I- I think I’ll be fine.” Liz says. She feels fine, she’s eating, she’s sleeping. “I’m doing well.”

“Elizabeth, please come in today, I’ll find someone to refer you to, don’t even worry about the money. Just come by, and we’ll get it figured out.”

“Thank you for your help.” She repeats, then hangs up, and puts the phone in her jacket pocket. It’s getting warmer, but it’s still a little chilly outside. She imagines that Parker’s left for the theatre already, but would rather wait just to be safe.

When she feels enough times has passed, she walks back to the apartment, and lets herself in. It’s silent, and a wave of relief rushes over her. She takes her jacket off, and hangs it on the hook by the door. She takes off her shoes, and takes out her phone. Liz sets an alarm for two hours later, and lets her hair down. She takes a seat on the sofa, then lies down. She closes her eyes, trying to get a little bit more sleep. She’s undoubtedly tired, but sleep won’t cooperate.

She stands, stretching, and walks down the hall to the bathroom. She takes her medication, and closes the medicine cabinet. On her way back to her place on the couch, she passes Parkers bedroom, and pauses to look at it. The beds unmade, as it has been since she stopped sleeping there. She leans on the door way. She’s not sad, but she’s not happy either. It’s sort of that strange sick feeling you get when you make a decision that you’ve spent a lot of time thinking about.

Liz can’t help herself, and she doesn’t even remember moving, but she gets in the bed, and just stares at the wall. She feels out of her own body, but it’s not a bad feeling. She lays on her side, and rubs her face into the pillow. She wakes up an hour and a half later to the sound of loud beeps coming from her phone. She turns the sound off, and allows herself to stay in the haze between asleep an awake. The haze where you can daydream and it feels real.

Eventually, though, she does have to get out of bed. She gets dressed, still feeling out of her own body. She leaves about 25 minutes before Parker usually leaves the theatre. She goes to the subway, and rides south. She gets off, and walks to a Starbucks, not too far from the NYU campus. She orders a black coffee, and hands over exact cash. “Do you go to NYU?” The barista asks, writing ‘Liz’ on the cup.

“Huh?” She asks, pulled from her thoughts.

“Do you go to NYU?” He repeats.

“Oh.” Liz says, and laughs a little. “No, no I don’t.”

She sits at a window seat, plugs her phone into the wall, and plays Sim City. When she looks up again, it’s getting dark. She looks at the time knowing that she has another 6 or 7 hours before she really can head back to the apartment, but she really doesn’t think the Starbucks employees appreciate her sitting there for so long.

Liz quickly gathers her purse, and exits. She walks a few blocks, further into the campus. She doesn’t miss school, but she misses the idea of what school could be like. She sits down on the sidewalk, and watches people pass by. She wishes she smoked so she’d at least have something to occupy herself with. She feels so much older than the people passing her by. She knows that she’s in the same age group as them, but they look and act so much younger. She checks the time again, and only an hour has passed. She decides to go to some bar she found on google.

Maybe she drank a lot, but at least she wasn’t hurting anyone in the process. At least that’s how she feels. Liz sits at a booth alone with two empty shot glasses and half a glass of some locally brewed beer. She checks her phone for plane tickets, to see if any had gone on sale. She still makes a little money here and there with her piano students, but he still hasn’t gathered the $220-$270 a ticket will cost her. It’s hard to save when you have to find things to occupy roughly 11 hours of your day with. “You won’t make many friends like that.” Someone says.

“Huh?” She asks, barely looking up.

“On your phone, you won’t meet many people.”

“Oh.” Liz says, still not looking up.

“Yeah.” He says, but doesn’t leave.

“Look,” Liz sighs, turning off her phone screen. “I’m just trying to have a drink, not make friends.”

“Why don’t I get you a drink, and we can be friends? That way we both get what we want.” The stranger asks, sitting down across from her. She finally looks at him. He has blond hair, and blue eyes. He slightly reminds her of Aaron, but he has a tattoo on the bottom right side of his neck, and his nose is sharper. She looks at his tattoo, it’s a small apple.

He gets them a few shots, and momentarily she finally feels in her body again, but in between the actually shot taking, she feels like she’s sitting on the other side of the booth, watching her struggle to sound interesting in comparison to this guy, Alex, who says he’s a political science major at NYU. She watches her explain to him that she went to OSU, and she watches him move to her side of the booth to tell her a joke. She watches them take a shot at the same time, and she watches him press his face into her neck.

The next morning, when she’s walking home in the same dress, she keeps checking her phone. She keeps thinking that Parker will text her and ask her if she’s okay, or why she didn’t come home. Instead, she gets into the apartment and finds a plane ticket for that afternoon.

Returning home from New York was possibly the hardest thing Liz had ever done. She forgot to tell her dads she was coming back, so when she gets to the airport she mindlessly gets into a cab, and gives him her old address. The ride home is quiet enough, and she feels very unreal. She pays the cabby with what little bit of cash she has left, and scrambles to get her luggage out. She barely gets to the door, and has to readjust everything when she pulls out her keys to unlock it. She grabs the luggage again, and drags in into the hallway, then to the edge of the stairs. She looks straight ahead to see Kurt and Blaine sitting on the sofa in the family room starring at her, surprised to see someone who isn’t a burglar. She ignores them calling her name as she drags everything upstairs to her room.

Things are sort of normal after that. It’s a lot like how high school felt. Her dads seem unsure of what to do now that she’s home. They have dinner as a family again, and no one asks her any questions. She gets her job back at Breadstix, and is offered a job as a part time manager, taking Scotty’s spot so he can go off to be a doctor or whatever. She’s good at work, and it’s always been the only place where she truly keeps her cool. Liz stops taking her medication about a week after she gets back. No one notices for a while.

Liz is good at her job, so that’s what she does. She works, and works, and works. Then she comes home and sleeps. Kurt and Blaine have a lot of friends they hangout with, so that often leaves her home alone. She doesn’t relapse or anything like that, she doesn’t even really drink, she just doesn’t do anything. She remembers Dr. Ellen Mareson telling her that a disinterest in life, and boredom, are common symptoms of BDP, but she hadn’t felt it since she moved to New York.

There are a lot of symptoms she didn’t fully recognize in herself until she got home. Social isolation, general discontent, identity disturbance, chronic feelings of boredom.. She’d felt all these things before she’d moved, but they’d gone away. When being diagnosed she understood that those were feelings she’d had before, and even in New York, though she would deny it, she felt that way often too. The only symptom she’d never felt was the impulsivity. She’d never been able to spend a lot of money, and she’d never had a one night stand like Dr. Mareson told her most people do. Well, she hadn’t until she got back. Her dad’s, concerned with her lack of socializing, ask Adriane to take her out. Adrian, who is nothing like Liz, takes her to a club. Liz goes home with some mediocre looking guy, and doesn’t remember anything that happened. This happens two more times before she starts going to therapy again.

Kurt comes to her room one night while she’s painting her nails, and asks to steal some toilet paper. He goes to the bathroom, and returns with her almost full bottle of Geodon. “Liz, are you not taking you medication?” He asks, shaking it. She explains to him that she’s fine, that she doesn’t need it. “Liz, you’re not fine.” She argues with him back. “You’re going back to therapy.”

She see’s the doctor 7 times by herself before Kurt and Blaine demand to go with her. It’s after she applied for the fall semester, and they find out she’s looking for somewhere to live. She doesn’t know why, but they freak out.

“What brought this on?” The therapists, Dr. Avery, asks them after sitting in silence for a few minutes. She’s in her late 30′s, possibly early 40′s.

“We know Lizzie’s older, and that she’s lived on her own, but we just want what’s best for her.” Blaine explains.

“We’re worried about her, and we’re worried about our family-”

“You’re selfish.” She says under her breath, but Kurt ignores her.

“You see, liz was our first child, all our others came much older, and they’ve always felt very independent from us, more so now than ever. I feel very safe, despite the rough times we faced with them when they were younger, with them out on their own. Our other daughter lives in New York, one son lives I L.A, and the other is a tour manager, and I don’t worry about them. Liz, when she goes to back college this fall, will be living 30 minutes down the road, and that feels too far.”

“Do you think it could just be because she is your first child that you possibly just feel the home is empty without her?”

“No.” Blaine answers before Kurt can. "Her living away is fine, the home is fine, we’re scared for her safety.“

“Why do you say that?”

“Because while things settled down with the other children, Liz went in the opposite direction. We.. We didn’t notice. Everything was fine, and then we’re getting a call that she’s been taken in an ambulance from her school, and is in the hospital.”

And that leads into a whole ordeal involving their guilt for her eating disorder. Liz wonders why she even had to come, it seems like Kurt and Blaine need to go to therapy. Somehow the conversation swerves into them talking about her living in New York.

“And then she just comes home, and doesn’t tell us. She shows up, won’t talk to us, we were terrified we had no idea why. We were terrified! We didn’t know if she had ran away, if she’d been abused, if she was pregnant, we just didn’t know.” Kurt says. Liz roles her eyes at the obnoxiousness of it all.

“But you did eventually find out?” The therapist asks, looking at her notes from previous sessions.

“Yes. Thankfully, it was just a breakup.”

“And have you, as a family, talked about why Lizzie chose to leave?”

“No.” Blaine shakes his head.

“It was very abrupt, correct?” She looks to Liz for an answer, and she nods.

“Had you been drinking?” Blaine asks cautiously

“It wasn’t tha-.” She starts, but is interrupted by Kurt.

“Elizabeth. Yes, or no? Had you been drinking?” “When?” She roles her eyes. “In the few months leading up to your breakup.” Kurt says. “I mean, I was 21, I drank.”

“Were you drinking more than usual?” Blaine pitches in a little. “No.” And it’s not a lie, she always drank that much. “Not more than usual for you, more than usual in comparison to-” “To what?” She interrupts, startling Kurt. “To a normal person?” “I didn’t say-” “But that’s what you meant right?” Liz asks, skeptically. “Was i drinking more that a normal person? Yes, yes I was. Probably because I have a mental disorder, that could possibly have been caused by something like early childhood trauma, something that caused PTSD something like, I don’t know- like neglect. And it probably didn’t help that something major, like possibly adoption, occurred.”

“No one blames you for having..” Blaine trails off. “Borderline personality disorder?” She asks.

“No one blames you.” He says, again.

“And what about with Aaron? And Jeremy?” Kurt continues. “Aaron had pretty much stopped drinking at that point.” “Jeremy?” He asks “Me and Jeremy both drank more than most adults do.” “And did you drink together?” The therapist asks, pulling the session back to the two people it should be focuses on: Liz and the therapist. “It felt like that was the only thing we did together.” She chuckles. “So, often?” “No, it was actually only a few times. We just never really did anything together.” Liz shrugs. The therapists senses that she doesn’t want to talk about Jeremy. “And did Parker not like you drinking?” “He didn’t tell me not to.” She says calmly. She does suppose he wasn’t very fond of it. “Did he drink?” “Occasionally.” “Less than you?” Liz just nods. “And when did you realize that the relationship wasn’t where you wanted it to be?”

Liz takes a moment to think. “The night he asked me to leave.” “Now, Elizabeth, you told me last week that you left Parker on your own, he didn’t make you.”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?” She asks, critically. “Now, Liz, did you want to leave or not?”

“Yes, maybe, I don’t know..”

“Liz, did he kick you out?” Kurt asks, and she shakes her head. “Did you come home right after the breakup?” She shakes her head again. “Where were you living- I swear to God if you didn’t have anywhere to stay-”

“I stayed there until I got a plane ticket.”

“Good.”

“And you two dislike him, I’m assuming.” She must have noticed Blaine and Kurt’s distaste at the subject.

“We’re not fond of him, no.” Kurt says.

“Why?” She asks.

“Because they dislike me being happy.”

“No.” Kurt snaps. “Because I dislike the way he treated our daughter.”

“And how was that?” Liz and the therapist ask, but in very different tones.

“He took away her ambition. We send her to New York to work, to learn. He has her quit her job to take care of his children.”

“That is not what happened.” Liz says, shocked. “I quit because for once in my life I didn’t have to work. Maybe, if you’d called you would have known.”

“You were not speaking?”

“We were.” Blaine answers. “Kurt and Lizzie weren’t.”

“Why?”

“Because he doesn’t respect me.” Liz says.

“I do, but you don’t respect yourself.”

“What does that mean?” Liz gasps.

“Lizzie, honey, you have sex with this man, and you want to move in with him.” Kurt rants on. “You take care of his kids, you give up everything. He took advantage of you.”

“That’s not what happened.” She shakes her head violently.

…

“I really don’t think I need to go to Alcoholics Anonymous, Ellen.” Liz laughs, pulling her feet onto the sofa with her.

“Liz, all of our conversations come back something that happened when you were drinking, or something you said-”

“It’s the middle of the summer, there’s not a lot going on.”

“Even before the summer, even before you started coming in, your stories-”

“I really don’t need help. When my relationships start going downhill I always drink, this one just stuck around a little longer. 3 times the charm I guess.”

“Elizabeth.”

“And besides, people like me better when I drink.”

…

Liz does find herself at AA a few weeks later,

It takes a little time, and a lot of effort, but Liz and Kurt do have a good relationship eventually.

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mikeyd1986 · 7 years

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MIKEY’S PERSONAL BLOG 96, March 2018

On Monday morning, I went to see Dr. Mah Mah at Narre Gate Medical Center in Narre Warren. I was running late as usual having slept in this morning, that classic Beatles song “A Day In The Life” could be a running monologue to describe most Mondays for me (Woke up, fell out of bed. Dragged a comb across my head. Found my way downstairs and drank a cup. And looking up, I noticed I was late...).

The issues with my ears from the infection to blockage and soreness through the glands and sides of my face was becoming like an episode of Days Of Our Lives (Previously on Michael’s auditory health issues). I was doing everything possible to treat myself, even spending my actual birthday resting up in bed and giving myself regular doses of pain killers and antibiotics. And yet it still hadn’t cleared up or stop hurting.

Being a Monday morning, the waiting room was packed with mum, dads, tradies and annoying screeching children running around (luckily I could only partially hear them). I wished that my doctor could simply prescribe me with a new set of ears (maybe an ear transplant?) but alas that’s not realistic. She advised me to stop taking the Ciproxin ear drops and instead put 10 drops of Waxsol in each ear for the next two nights and came back to see her on Wednesday. I’ll seriously do anything at this point just to get rid of the pain and discomfort. https://1800bulkbill.com.au/medical-centre/narregate-medical-dental-centre

After my appointment, I had birthday shopping to do as it’s my Mum’s birthday tomorrow. Truthfully, I wasn’t in the best state health wise nor in the mood to be shopping but I didn’t really have a choice. Plus it’s my Mum and she’s important to me and I’ll happily put up with an ear infection for her. My first stop was JB HI-FI Narre Warren where I bumped into my friend Tom Armstrong who happens to work at the store. I briefly caught up with him and he helped me out with getting a powerbank. Tom is an absolute sweetheart, no joke!

Next stop was Chemist Warehouse to stock up on my drugs (of the prescription variety of course). I’ve made a couple of trips here recently and now it’s not as daunting and overwhelming as it usually is. I guess you slowly get used to where all the products are located plus it wasn’t that busy. I managed to be in and out within 10 minutes or so. I needed more waxsol drops, cotton balls, a liquid inhalant for my Euky Bear vapouriser and panadeine forte. https://www.chemistwarehouse.com.au/

Lastly I dropped into a lovely little shop called the Berwick Curtain Nook located inside the Village Arcade and off High Street, Berwick. Whilst I was feeling a little awkward coming here by myself, I pretty much knew what I wanted to buy Mum. I got her a paperback notebook with an elephant on the front, a ceramic ornament with a beautiful inspirational quote and a grey Scottish Terrier ornament.

The lady went to the trouble of wrapping the ornaments in tissue paper and placing them in a bright red gift bag as I mentioned that it was my Mum’s birthday tomorrow. Thankfully it didn’t quite turn into the scene from Love Actually with Rowan Atkinson going overboard with the gift wrapping (Any ribbon? Cellophane? Rose petals? A box? NO THANK YOU!) but my pain threshold wasn’t letting up. However, I was very grateful for her service considering how last minute this was. http://www.berwickcurtainnook.com.au/

On Tuesday morning, we celebrated Mum’s birthday by each having a much deserved massage at Body & Balance in Cranbourne Park Shopping Centre. We decided on getting the oil neck and shoulder massage plus reflexology foot massage and hot stone therapy. The lady did a really thorough job without going too intense in the pressure department. I could actually relax into it even with the noise of the broken air conditioner above me.

I did get myself a little confused though as the lady said something quickly and left the room. I was left there wondering if she was coming back or if I was supposed to go outside the room. I was still feeling half deaf and she was also softly spoken so it was difficult to hear her. Looking at the digital clock on the table, it read 10:30am meaning that I still had another 20 minutes and my massage wasn’t over. So therefore I trusted my instincts, got dressed and met her outside.

Mum and I both reclined back on these circular rotating arm chairs whilst our female massage therapists went to work on our feet. It’s been months since I’ve had a proper foot massage done so I could feel how tense and sensitive they were in places but it was still a lovely experience all the same. The only thing that bothered me was that the massage staff were all having a conversation in Chinese the entire time which I thought was kinda rude. But I decided to let it go and tried to focus on enjoying the massage. https://www.cranbournepark.com.au/stores/body-balance/

On Wednesday afternoon, Mum and I saw Dr. Mah Mah at Narre Gate Medical Center in Narre Warren. I think I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been to the doctors in the past fortnight but now I’m getting over it. Thankfully the pain in my ears has eased up quite a bit and the waxsol drops have helped to soften up the ear wax blocking up the ear canals. So it was a huge relief when Mah Mah could syringe my ears so that I could hear clearly again.

I also decided to get a blood test ordered as it’s been over a year since my last one. She added a FBE (Full Blood Count), Urea/Electrolyte/Creatine, Cholesterol/Triglycerides/HDL/LDL, Glucose, TSH (Thyroid Stimulating Hormone) and TES (Testosterone) levels. Over the past couple of months, I’ve noticed that I’ve been having periods of low energy and chronic fatigue so I think a blood test would be really helpful in figuring out what I’m deficient in.

In addition (I literally had a list of things to see her about today, no joke!), I wanted to get the dosage of my antidepressants increased. I’ve been taking Zoloft (Sertraline) tablets at 150mg for about 5 months now and my psychologist recommended that I increase it up to 200mg due to scoring a severe level of anxiety on a recent assessment I did. Plus I have noticed that there are times where the antidepressants seem ineffective when it comes to my mood so it couldn’t hurt to try increasing it.

On Thursday morning, I had my first Employ Your Mind session with my support worker Ally Lamb at Wise Employment Narre Warren. Basically, EYM is “a program that helps build the thinking and social skills that are important for work and other areas of life”. Ally recommended it to be as she knows how much I struggle with communication in social situations and dealing with my mental health issues. http://www.fifeemploymentaccesstrust.com/employ-your-mind.html

The first session was pretty straight forward and more of an introduction to the program. There are four phases in total which each run for 6 weeks with a short break in between. Phase 1 is done individually with the learning coach (Ally Lamb) whilst Phases 2,3 and 4 are run in small groups. We went through what her role as a learning coach is and I also filled in a questionnaire called the General Self Efficacy Scale.

The second part of the session involved the concept of cognitive remediation and going through parts of the human brain (frontal lobe, parietal lobe, occipital lobe, cerebellum, temporal lobe, brain stem). Basically it’s about being able to improve cognitive or thinking skills. Lastly we discussed how mental health issues can affect or impact upon cognitive skills and make it even more difficult to learn, concentrate and retain information. http://www.wiseemployment.com.au/en/community/ndis-supports-and-services/

Unfortunately my ears were still not 100% clear even after I got them syringed/irrigated at the doctors yesterday. It’s hard to explain but they still “feel” blocked even though my hearing is a lot better than it was earlier this week. I could be experiencing tinnitus or that my ear canals are too dry and not lubricated enough. Hopefully it clears up and heals naturally over the next few days.

On Friday morning, Mum and I went to the Morning Melodies social function at the Waltzing Matilda Hotel in Springvale. We were running late (no surprises there!) so we didn’t end up getting to the function room until around 10.45am or so. Thankfully we caught most of the performance though. Today we had Brian Muldoon doing the “Johnny O’Keefe tribute” show. It was partly a history lesson as Brian talked about Johnny’s life back in the early 60’s and 70’s, the television shows we became known for and the downward spiral that followed due to his mental illness.

Brian performed many of his classic hits including Shout!, Sing Sing Sing, She Wears My Ring, So Tough, The Sun’s Gonna Shine Tomorrow, It’s too late she’s gone, The Wild One and She’s My Baby. Most of Johnny O’Keefe’s songs carried a positive, uplifting message to them in order to help people’s moods up and push through the tough times in life. I feel like this is very relevant to the challenges we face in life today. https://www.entertainoz.com.au/listings/brian-muldoon/artist_profile_details

On Friday night, I went to a Vinyasa flow yoga class with Jade Hunter at YMCA Casey ARC, Narre Warren. I haven’t been to a fitness class in nearly two weeks now due to my health problems and being busy with other commitments like my birthday, appointments and my VCAT hearing. However, considering my ears were feeling a lot better, I decided to go back tonight. It’s funny how quickly you miss the gym when you haven’t been for a while.

I also read that certain yoga poses can help to unblock and relieve the pressure built up inside the ear canals so there’s another good reason to do. Tonight was a little more challenging than usual with lots of balancing, twists and binds thrown into the mix. I wasn’t really prepared for all of that nor did I have the flexibility to do everything Jade was demonstrating (Putting my legs behind my head? Yeah right!).

We did our usual Vinyasa flow sequence (Downward Facing Dog, Plank, Chaturanga, Cobra/Updog) plus Standing Poses (Warrior 2, Standing Forward Bend, Half Lift, Chair pose, Reverse Triangle pose), Seated Poses (Boat pose, Staff pose, Wide Legged Forward Bend, Happy Baby) and Inversions (Shoulder Stand, Plow pose). I could hear my ears popping which was a good sign plus my body heated up quite quickly during the class.

Jade does go the extra mile though considering we are doing yoga inside a creche. She added candles, burning incense, beautiful yoga music and some brass Tibetan bowls and chimes to the space which gave it the appropriate atmosphere for a yoga class. https://www.doyouyoga.com/the-perfect-vinyasa-flow-routine-for-beginners-30159/

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rheasunshine · 7 years

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Greetings fellow travelers,

I hope that wherever you’re reading this from, you are safe.

I haven’t been safe in awhile.

Yes, I have a roof over my head. (A new, expensive one at that; first year home-ownership can be stressful).

Yes, I have food and water. (Well, sometimes there’s food – usually the fridge is empty-ish and even when it’s not, I’m not really into eating it.) This fact alone makes me safer than millions and millions of people.

I am – generally speaking – not in danger.

Except last week. Last week, I was in a lot of danger. And it wasn’t the first time.

It comes as no surprise to anyone following my story that as a “Professional Patient” I spend most of my days balancing doctors appointments and symptom-tracking and medications. To be honest (and you should always be honest, right Justin?), I’ve been doing a truly shitty job managing my illnesses. It starts simply enough – one bad day. That bad day leads to two, and by then I’ve decided nothing I could do matters and I let go of the controls. Sounds healthy, right?

So a couple of weeks ago, as I was juggling my annual OBGYN visit, IUD discussions, a urology referral, a visit to UNC to discuss my constant nausea and further testing, a mammogram, vision testing for new glasses and contacts (and WAY more money than we have), my therapy visits and then 3 or 4 “normal” appointments, I kind of lost my mind.

The thing is, it wasn’t even beyond the scope of normal; that’s a pretty average week in my life. Where things started to go sideways was in the creeping, slinking, insidious feeling that an MS relapse – or something worse – was coming on. I’ve described this enough times that I feel we are all comfortable with what this looks like, so I’ll just summarize by saying that at this point in the story I was no longer in control of my motions, thoughts, words or feelings.

When Thommy and I went on our annual wedding anniversary trip in early October, we spent most of our time playing the previously referred to “ER or nah??” game. I didn’t want to go to an ER out of state (we were in Tennessee) so we just assumed the worst was yet to come and tried to enjoy what we could of the Smokey Mountains. BUT, because my brain wasn’t working properly, I forgot to pack both my cane AND my handicap placard, so we weren’t able to do much sightseeing or exploring. In fact, we barely left the condo. Since we’ve been married for 9 years, and together for 13, we don’t need a lot of special attractions to enjoy a trip; just being in each others’ presence is special enough.

At the Tennessee Welcome Center

So let’s catch up: we got home, the symptoms got way worse, and on Friday, October 27th, I went again to see my primary care doctor. He took an X-Ray of my neck first to see if that could explain some of the symptoms. Luckily, it did a little – I now have 3 herniated discs and something wrong with the curvature of my spine – and had we not had more pressing issues he said we would be discussing physical therapy, cortisone shots and possibly surgery – but since I couldn’t feel my leg or finish a complete sentence, we had bigger problems.

He sent me over to the hospital as a direct admit. He assured me they would give me sedatives before the MRI of my brain, thoracic and cervical spine (a 2 hour procedure), but the hospital was experiencing a severe shortage of IV Valium so they gave me Ativan instead, and it did nothing, except possibly make me MORE agitated. Over the course of my stay they tried 7 IVs. 2 blew. One nurse cried and I did everything I could to convince her it was me, not her.

It is now Sunday, November 5th and it hurts just to type this. But what I want to say is important; I was diagnosed as having another MS flare.

After 3 MS medications THIS YEAR ALONE.

After the hell of Ocrevus JUST TWO MONTHS AGO.

The reason MS patients put up with all the bullshit is to STAY OUT of relapses. I tortured myself all year just to end up here anyway. And that’s JUST the MS – never mind everything else in my body hatching plans against me.

So. They prescribe 3 days of IV steroids (WHY, GOD, WHY?), fluids and pain management. Fine. I’m pissed but I can do this. What’s 3 more days in the hospital? I am safe.

Except.

Except…

I can’t do it. I am not safe.

A psychiatrist comes to talk to me on the day of discharge. “Are you safe at home?”

(Mental checklist: roof, food, check.)

“Yes.”

“OK,” she says, “do you have thoughts of hurting yourself or others?”

Let’s do the easy one first. Do I want to hurt others? Like this guy – this guy here who SLEPT IN A CHAIR FOR 3 DAYS AND BARELY LEFT MY SIDE AND DECKED OUT OUR ROOM IN PENN STATE STUFF FOR THE GAME DESPITE THE FACT THAT I KEEP YELLING AT HIM AND CRY INCOHERENTLY?? No. No, I do not want to hurt him.

(Well, I didn’t. But now that I’m at home, in pain, miserable and riding steroid rage, ummmm…..)

But do I want to hurt myself?

Yes. I want to find a way to trump the pain I’m in every day, I want to be the one doing the hurting, actively, so I’m no longer passively being injured, I want it to be quiet, I want it to stop, I want it to end. Please. Make it all stop.

“Would you allow yourself to be voluntarily committed to our behavior health unit?”

What’s left to hide from? What’s left to be scared of? I’ve seen the worst, I’ve felt the worst, I’ve been in the dark for a long time.

What it feels like she’s asking is, “Do you want to save what’s left of you?”

“Yes.”

And that’s where another story starts and ends. The only other time I’ve been hospitalized for mental health issues since Renfrew, and this time it was only 3 days because on the chaotic and teary night of admission I signed my 72 hour release form. (They really should make you wait until morning to do that, but what do I know…)

So basically I asked to leave before I had even fully been processed.

But that’s OK because 3 days in a psych unit is a powerful time. Every single person you meet changes you forever. And I want to do justice to that story so we’ll save it for another day.

But what I want you to know now is that on Monday, November 6th, I will start a 6 week intensive partial hospitalization; that means from 9am to 1pm I’ll be in intensive therapy, both group and individual and I’ll meet each week with a psychiatric nurse to continue to adjust my medications and with a psychiatrist to keep this journey moving. In addition, I can still see my normal therapist once a week, who I’ve been seeing for two years, and who has been remarkable.

There are three other things I want you to know, and they are so important to me, that I’m asking you to really hear the words in your head – and I’m asking you to remember.

1.) I would be dead right now if it wasn’t for Thommy, my mom, a handful of the best friends I actually don’t deserve, and a tribe of “Rhea Team” warriors who pray for me and send me their positive energy and their love and their notes and their gifts and who keep showing up despite the tedious repetition of my illnesses and shortcomings. I know that I am blessed. I do not take it for granted. Please keep reminding me of the good things – please keep your words of love and light coming; it’s my way out of the darkness.

2.) You need to vote better. Sorry if that’s whiplash but it’s true. You and me both. I am getting the most amazing, thorough and continued treatment because of insurance. There was a time I didn’t have that. And there were people I met in the hospital who were released before they were stable because of insurance. Cuts to mental health services, Medicare, Medicaid, etc, literally, literally, literally KILL PEOPLE. I might be one of them. Vote in every election you can for leaders who will protect those services. I can’t believe this country works that way but here we are.

3.) Mental health stigma needs to end. And it can start with you. Stop using the word “crazy” a dozen times a day when it’s not necessary. That’s the easy one – challenge yourself today and see what happens. Don’t use diagnoses as adjectives. OCD, bipolar, schizophrenia, manic/mania, depressed, anorexic/bulimic, PTSD, cutting/cutters/self-harmers … all those things are real life. They can be nightmares that people may never wake up from. Some of us will get help and regulate it but we ALL need to stop carrying around the shame of it. It is not a punchline to your shitty joke. If someone trusts you enough to share their story with you: listen without judgement. You don’t have to fix them. You don’t have to feel their pain to help them through it. You can hold space with love and respect and allow them to process their emotions freely. Not everyone is ready to accept help – it is not your job to lecture them. Memorize the number to the suicide hotline (1-800-273-8255) so that you can provide a resource to someone is crisis. (Obviously, if it’s an emergency, call 911). But from experience, I can say that I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve had a meltdown on the phone with someone while I told them I couldn’t make it one more day – and the act of simply being heard has kept me here one more day.

One more day.

That’s what’s left.

Or, like we talked about in the hospital, one more minute. It’s 7:31am right now. Can I make it until 7:32am? What can bridge those 60 seconds? Breathing? Medication? A phone call?

I know I said I needed you to know 3 things, but I lied, there’s one more:

I am not ashamed. As someone with complex mental illnesses AND complex physical illnesses, stuffing that all inside and hiding it from the world is what usually gets me into the darkest recesses of my mind and keeps me buried. As someone with mental illness, I *DO* feel guilty, all the time, for hundreds of things, real and imaginary; but, what I don’t feel guilty about, is sharing this with you. There is a level of self-loathing I experience that I didn’t even have words for until I was on the psych unit, but my head will not hang one inch lower after posting this and sharing it. I hope if you read this and you want to talk, you reach out. I hope if you read this, and you are so inclined, you share it with your circle because there might be someone who needs to read it and know help is out there and they don’t have to feel alone or ashamed.

I’m redefining myself with the pieces of what’s left; and with each new illness and test and hospitalization and med change, etc., I do feel like I lose some of the person I wanted to be. Or at least the person I thought I was. But there is so much power in realizing you can create someone new. And know this: if you’ve had to do this (I mean, REALLY, do this): you are a fucking superhero. Suit up. Here’s your cape…

xoxo

Rhea

What’s Left. Greetings fellow travelers, I hope that wherever you're reading this from, you are safe. I haven't been safe in awhile.

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