#cause i only got prescribed adderall this year

[flamboyant-king]

I had an Isaac run where it was so stressful my heartrate was at a 145bpm and it persisted for 6 hours. After that, like every day that followed, my heart would just suddenly shoot up to 120-140bpm for an hour if I so much as thought about something I've been stressing over recently. Everybody encouraging me to go to the ER. And I'm just like "Oh please I've actually always been like this, I'm fine." Had to chop down my Adderall dosage. But I swear I've felt like this since high school, but I guess the medicine enhances the feeling and that feeling was ANXIETY.

So, suffice to say, playing The Binding of Isaac™️ almost gave me a heart attack.

[boxofdicks]

the only privilege i ever assume people have inherently is when i talk to other usamerican uni students when i was in undergrad in the states, cause when theyre stressed about assignments im always like why dont you just. take some adderall and pull an all nighter about this. why not just have 4 red bulls and an adderall and some cigarettes and submit the damn assignment. cause are you about to tell me you dont have access to this? seriously? you do. text your freshman year roommate and ask her. just spend your beer money for the week on this. live in the lib for a week. ive had diagnosed and prescribed adhd since i was 11 so i have to take these pills a few times a week to simply do my readings but they are so available to you people. and so i assume everyone has this privilege and if they dont then im like well i simply cannot aid you in your pursuits. not only can i conceive of an academic situation in which red bull and an adderall would not help but i dont know how youve gotten this far without at least the red bull part. i can recommend using the tool mybib for citations. google scholar and jstor and the writing center and emailing your professor asking for an extension bc ive never been turned down for one less than 48 hours. and adderall. when im a professor and i have office hours i will have to remedy this approach.

do you think people rawdog law school? med school? do you think theres a single biology or engineering or mandarin or comp sci or religious studies student who made honors without adderall. one time my buddy in seminary school got his hands on some cocaine and spent 4 days trading futures online before etrade found out he wasnt licensed to do so and he got banned. he made eight thousand dollars off of four hundred. and what did he do next? took a few days off to sleep, then passed his midterms. then he hit a deer with his truck and had to shoot it to put it out of its misery, so he took it to the local farm butcher and got years worth of venison. we make chili out of the sausage he gave my parents to thank us for hosting thanksgiving. the moral of this story? sometimes the grindset can pay off in mysterious ways. the power of stimulants is within you. you have the power to take control of this night and make it an all nighter and succeed. business majors abuse these. they use them without honor. they dont read textbooks or write essays or do math or whatever engineers do. they dont even trade rich peoples portfolios. they may network at best. at best. they party and then preach the grindset and sales. these people have rarely grinded. only when they took econ classes and had to learn stats did they grind. my friends. the grindset is within you. you can make thousands legally but not within the terms of service. you can finish the essay and pass. this isnt about adderall. its about grit. and red bull

[life-is-pulchritudinous]

They say your tastes change every 7 years. Reflecting on our relationship, I did indeed change after 7 years. I was in survival mode for the past 3 years because of him. Constantly being in survival mode will change your brain chemistry. I went through a med change at year 7. I was in a major depression episode that last from year 5-7. I could barely function without the thought of death coming across my mind. My anxiety was clinical. I was rapid cycling from major depression to mania. From every few hours or days to even minutes. When it’s minutes that is what they call lethal. There is no rhyme or reason when rapid cycling. I started Viibryd and it was like changing. I had no depression! But as time went on my memory started to go. It grew gradually but the point my short term memory was shot too. I did the research and switched to Effexor and I’m still stable and my memory is back. I am SO happy I got my memory back after the last time E and I got back together. Then I’d remember all of the abuse he caused in detail. I really do not remember much of that few months together. But I still feel like I have PTSD symptoms. I constantly think about him. Not sure if it is because he owes me thousands of dollars or what. His name puts a sour taste in my mouth. I do not wonder how he or Onyx are doing. When I do think of him it’s bad memories. So many songs trigger me into thinking of you. It’s hard to find music that isn’t about love or breakups. Breakup ones sometimes trigger me. Some love songs are usually good but I am not really looking for love so I don’t really want to listen to it. Love songs make me briefly think of E but I haven’t felt “love” like what’s in the songs in 5+ years. So i listen to the song so many times that eventually I don’t think of him. He gaslighted me constantly. He avoid questions. He love bombed me. If he didn’t I probably wouldn’t be with him. He’s a felon for fucks sake. I do NOT know WHY I got into a relationship with a LOW life. He only saw good in me when I helped him with something, I did something right, when I worked out, etc. He couldn’t even see that in the end as he yelled at me to tell him what I did for him. Classic narcissistic move. He verbally, narcissistically, emotionally, and physically abused me. He’d rather pleasure himself than have anything romantic with me. He stopped trying. So I stopped somewhat to see if he’d notice but we just drifted further and further apart. I’m very happy we did. You are not the one I want to spend my life with. Now that you are out of the picture, doors are opening for me, my lucky is amazing, I’m excelling in work. School not so much. First test 65/100. Too much material for 1 test. 2nd test I went through adderall withdrawals for 5ish days. I slept so much. I was literally “high” on methamphetamines. I felt drunk, my stomach hurt so bad, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I was taking it as prescribed. Once per day. But before I was doing 4-5 times a week and I never had toxicity levels. So I’ll be going back to that for my health and safety. I stayed up late tonight and yesterday night. I’m tired but so so so hungry.

Goodnight xoxo

[dxsertrot]

I'm really starting to firmly believe I have adhd. At first I was cool with it being speculative, but it feels like it actually interferes with my life. Maybe I should get a professional diagnosis and consider Adderall. It's just hard for me to know because everyone thinks they have adhd nowadays. Sometimes I even wonder about the legitimacy of adhd being a thing (in terms of it being classified as a neurological problem) but it's becoming harder and harder to live with as my work becomes more specified and focused. It's really hard for me to focus and pay attention. I move so fast I overlook simple things. My brain has never worked the way I would like it to, when it seems so easy for everyone else. I've always been critiqued at work for moving too quickly and overlooking things because of that. And now I'm at a job where I cannot afford to be that way. I have always struggled badly with instructions and now I have a job where all I do is follow very specific instructions. Because if I don't I can literally kill people. I'm only in training and I know this is all so new to me, but this isn't a new problem. It's a problem I've always been aware of but never knew how to fix. It's benefited me tremendously in many ways, to be so quick and always move with purpose and to never quite switch off, but now I NEED to be able to have an off switch to sit down and slow everything to break down what exactly I need to do. I cannot think of an instance where I've successfully done that. I get so frustrated with myself and feel so so stupid. I try eating really good, attempt to get good sleep, and try to engage in more thoughtful activities outside of work like reading and writing. I do all this in hopes it will fix my brain and I will be able to be the way that I want. I can't be organized for shit, never have been. Even when I try to be. Shit gets out of control so fast and I can't ever pinpoint how it got like that. I always thought adhd wasn't something I had because it doesn't seem to reflect as much outside of work and social interactions. I have no problem relaxing when I get home, I'm honestly anything but hyperactive when I'm home. I try to be. Plus there's the factor of phones absolutely destroying attention spans. But it's never just been my attention span. Sometimes I can pay really good attention. But more often than not I have to fuck up to understand something because instructions and verbal teaching isn't enough. And nobody ever noticed it in me as a kid. Sure I fidgeted but I was always glued to me seat, and I never distrusted class. I was horrifically shy and constantly lost in the classroom. But my last two years of school I wasn't! I did super well and paid really good attention in all my classes. Which is why it's so hard for me to grapple with why I'm having this problem again. Maybe because it's been a few years? I don't know. And then I'm scared that I will get an adhd diagnoses and be prescribed Adderall and have the same problems. I just feel like a dummy and everyone expects me to be so much more organized and detailed than I am because I'm a girl or some stupid shit. There's so many memories I have growing up and even of the past few years that make things make so much more sense with the context of having adhd, but what if I don't have it? Am I just stupid? A hopeless cause? I want to do better and be better and I genuinely try so hard and never get it right. And I feel people that I look up to judge me and be disappointed in me because of it. But I have no defense. I've got no diagnosis and I don't know how much it would cost to get one. I think I need to start doing serious research into getting one. I'm just getting so frustrated with myself and maybe it will help me be nicer to myself if I know it's not my fault and that there's ways of living with it and be successful at the things I want to be successful at. Because as it stands I can only be good at mindless work until I figure out how to get my shit organized, follow instructions, and slow down.

[tashabilities]

I can’t entrust my mental health to white people.

But with FIVE different therapists,

FIVE TIMES NOW, 

The Black women therapists I’ve met are either woefully undereducated to handle my specific needs--

And so far, that’s FOUR out of the FIVE Black woman therapists I’ve seen in the past 5 years--

Or they end up feeling some kinda way about me, also FOUR of the FIVE Black woman therapists I’ve seen in the last 5 years.

The feeling some kinda way about me crew includes:

**The AKA that was part of the tractor trailer settlement, who spent part of my second (and final) hour with her defending white people against the things I said--things I literally blew her mind with, initially, I could SEE her paradigm shift and she told me so!

But by the next week, she had to justify her work friendships with white people, oppositional to everything I said, like, how you Black and defending white folks,

And how we arguing, or even talking about this common sense shit when I’m here to process the near death experience I just had with a tractor trailer?

She asked me how I knew she was an AKA and I told her, “Everything in this room is pink,” so clearly, I see things you don’t, beloved. 

**Ms. Tracy, the latest therapist I’ve worked with. Never gave me her PTSD plan, but found me fascinating, and started to ‘challenge’ me on dumb shit that nobody needs to challenge like, 

You my same age, sis, so YOU KNOW that the afterschool programs and karate dojos and leadership programs were ONLY for Black boys when we were coming up and YOU KNOW that there was nothing for Black girls until recently, until we were done with school,   

So why you call yourself challenging me on small, dumb shit in the name of Not AWL Blaaack Menz, and WHERE is my PTSD plan? 

**My Kaiser AKA Ph.D., who was mad cool, a fan, but judged me for the sex life I was trying to forge for myself like, 

I DID the virgin good girl shit and he still didn’t want it, so you turn your nose up at me having my first one night stand with a guy from Bumble? 

I saw her over the longest period of time, but it was still sum like once a month because Kaiser through the marketplace sucked ass and she was the ONLY Black woman therapist for like, 500 people. 

**Ms. White, from that weird therapist collective experience that charged me a monthly fee in addition to my co-pay. 

I got to detailing a piece of my standards and she said “Since you perfect,” cause clearly, she put up with some shit in her personal life that I never would have and was feeling judged by me saying what I want FOR ME. 

Ended it right then and there, like, this will not be helpful for either of us to continue cause you feel a way about me.  

 Now, the cool experiences include the nurse prac who diagnosed me ADHD and prescribed me Adderall.

SHE was cool as fuck, and a fan, and clinicians liking me a lot is another post. 

The Black Nationalist psychiatrist I had with Kaiser was MAD fuckin cool, and I didn’t need her, nor her medicine, a bitch just autistic, 

But she clearly liked me, too.

These educated women would be my peers had we met outside of a professional client clinician setting because they were actually learning from me as I talked, like,

They ALL told me to write a book or start a podcast and share with others the stuff I would talk with them about in my sessions. 

But when folks start feeling a way about me, I get outta dodge. 

It’s only downhill from there. 

[octopunkmedia]

Hi! I hope you don’t mind me asking this but you’ve been open about recently being diagnosed with adult ADHD and as someone who is very seriously considering asking my doctor about it, I was wondering if you’d be able to share a little bit about being diagnosed yourself? I totally understand if you don’t but I just thought I’d ask! (Seriously can’t stop thinking about DE, either, so thank you very much for making it. It’s brilliant.)

Sure! I had an unusually easy experience being diagnosed, as I've heard from others that it can take years. It can also be very expensive - something I have dodged due to the fact that I met my insurance deductible on January 2 when I needed my gallbladder removed.

Basically I went to my primary care doctor and told her I was having a lot of symptoms of ADHD, that I'd gotten worse and worse and it was really getting difficult to live normally. I have read ADHD Alien and a lot of other resources over the years that gave me the verbiage to explain how I think: executive dysfunction, rejection sensitive dysphoria, hyperfocus.

She interviewed me with a variety of questions. I said yes to eight out of the nine. The only thing I did not ping was "restlessness" - I'm not a fidgety person. However I told her that I am very restless INTERNALLY and have trouble taking breaks or getting to sleep. She didn't really think that counted which....well, I'll get to that in a sec and why that might have been the wrong call, but for now, I have 8/9 symptoms.

The other important thing is, to be diagnosed, you have to have displayed symptoms in childhood. It can't have been something overnight or recent. I'm 28, for reference. At 15 I would stay up all night writing fanfic. At 10 I was obsessively building LEGO versions of the Taj Mahal. I was fifth in my class and as a child, you would call me "precocious" or "an overachiever." Few people at that age suggested I ever could have had ADHD, because in the 90s, that was "bad kid disease." If you weren't obstinate and a poor student, no one would ever suggest you had it. But in hindsight, I absolutely displayed signs of hyperfocus, signs of executive dysfunction (I have never in my life had a clean room, not for one minute), and other symptoms I've definetly lived with all my life.

My doc diagnosed me with ADHD Inattentive, as opposed to ADHD Hyperactive or ADHD Combined. I was prescribed Straterra, a nonstimulant norepinephrine inhibitor. Stimulants like Adderall, Concerta, and Ritalin are usually first line treatments for ADHD, but my doctor is somewhat hippie/holistic and doesn't like prescribing stimulants. Quite frankly they scare me too and are a pain to deal with when it comes to refills because of their controlled substance status, so I was happy to try Straterra first.

Unfortunately, Straterra was less than happy to try me. I lasted 16 days before having to give up, buried under a myriad of side effects - constant feeling of having to pee but not being able to, no appetite to the point of losing 5 lbs in 2 weeks, burning and tingling in my limbs, COMPLETE limb weakness in the 3-4 hours before every new dose, like walking to the kitchen felt like hiking up a hill. And then the most significant one: almost completely losing the ability to sleep. For the first few days I couldn't sleep at all. Eventually I got to where I could sleep 4 hours a night. But that started to wear on me after awhile. It is possible these side effects would have gone away had I stuck with it. But I was too exhausted to find out. I was also too exhausted to find out if it actually worked on my ADHD. I think it did to some degree, as getting back to normal was definitely....I noticed the change. But since Straterra had me so ill I was basically bed ridden, maybe I was just too sick to notice my usual ADHD brain.

I quit the Straterra under my doctor's guidance and have a follow up meeting next week. We will see if she switches to stimulants, if she switches to a treatment like Guanfacine, or if she wants to try a different dose of Straterra. Or if she wants to refer me to a psych for a full workup and maybe see if there's other things going on (potentially anxiety, OCD, etc).

Circling back around to our disagreement on restlessness...if I had to guess right now, I'd say I'm actually ADHD Combined, not Inattentive. The fact that Staterra specifically caused insomnia in me seems to suggest that I may have more symptoms of hyperactivity than I realize or she realized, so maybe other meds will have more success. But all this is weird and tbqh they don't actually understand how some of these meds work. So who knows. I'll continue to be as transparent about it as I can!

Also just because Straterra sucked for me doesn't mean it would for you, so don't let this account make that drug seem scary. I've read plenty of stories of folks having great results, I just pulled the short straw.

[713cult]

prescription/oxymoron school boy q

Prescription drugs, show me love Percocets, Adderall Xanny bars, get codeine involved Stuck in this body high, can't shake it off I'm falling off, I can't hold a thought What's wrong with me? Now the pressure creep I'm stressing deep, even in my sleep My mommy call, I hit ignore My daughter calls, I press ignore My chin press on my chest, my knees press the floor I'm blanking out, woke up on the couch Dinner on my shirt, my stomach hurts I had a bust out in the 80's but yo, the karma's worse I cry when nothing's wrong, I'm mad when peace is involved My senses harmed, sluggish ruggish A couple Xannies popped, open my pill box Prescription drugsWhat's wrong, daddy?! Wake up! Wake up!Prescription drugs, I fell in love My little secret, she gon' kill a thug My body numb, she like to give me hugs I love her touch, I get a rush When she don't come around, I start to go nuts My heart erupts, I'm curled in pain My phone ring, ring and ring and ring If you ain't selling drugs, then I don't hear a thing May 7, Ali calls, p.m. of 6: 45, I finally answer this time He said "Come to the stu', I'm mixing all your rhymes" I don't decline, at least that's in my mind Grab the keys, need some wood for the trees Dap the clerk 'fore I leave, max on my AC Continue right, remember seeing light Wise night, but that's my life Prescription drugsWhat's wrong? You tired? You mad? Okay, I love you, daddyI just stopped selling crack today I just stopped selling crack today (What you say? What you say?) O-X-Y, a moron, O-X-Y, a moronI just stopped selling crack today I just stopped selling crack today (What you say? What you say?) O-X-Y, a moron, O-X-Y, a moronCrazy, got my sex on wet in her Mercedes Ladies, get these off new shoes for my baby Oxy, I don't know no Pablo or no papi What you know about a pill, plus a 8-ball You gotta re-up 50 times just to get a rack off, ungh I can get a hundred of 'em, make over 3 G's Only took two days, only re-up'd one time Where the sun barely shine and it rain for about Nine months out the year, man it's something right here For Seattle nigga, cheers, when I look up at y'all city like lookin' in the mirror Damn near had a career, just might shed a tear, ungh Man, this shit right here for my niggas who ain't make it home Sitting on a tear, got a dap to a nigga bright in here, feeling life ain't fair If I was in your shoes, I would've copped, don't care Had a scene, had the medics like clear, ungh Big body cold like a Polar Bear, ungh I done sold more shit than hookers, expensive tees, resemble a push up Stopped selling crack, cause white don't fuck with narcos Vanity slave, got whips and chains Dirty money, clean money the same, even if I got life, I ain't saying a nameI just stopped selling crack today I just stopped selling crack today (What you say? What you say?) O-X-Y, a moron, O-X-Y, a moronGroovy, when I die tell Spike Lee make a movie Oh wee, cops bringing dogs so they don't sniff my bitch booty Oxy, O-X-Y, only feel like I could stop me Quincy, now how you nigga sliding up every now and then in a Bentley? Easy, 60-40-50, you can get one for 30 if you let me hook this titty Let a nigga fuck then my dogs see your kitty Just stopped selling crack today When it get hot, smoke a pill, watch it glide like Dr. J I prescribe you I'm your doctor, kay? You can crush this shit, you can sniff this shit You can take this shit, you can smoke this shit Do you like this shit, nigga? Your brain go numb, synthetic heroine Without the injections, do the same love and affection How could they say feeling good is an addiction? But the world is full of shit, so I don't listen In fact "We living to die" is a contradiction So trapping in a Nissan, O-X-Y, I keep 'em, O-X-Y, you need oneI just stopped selling crack today I just stopped selling crack today (What you say? What you say?) O-X-Y, a moron, O-X-Y, a moron

[headspace-hotel]

I vaguely hate the “heroin makes your life feel ok” post (and the replies...really mostly the replies) for two reasons

1. I take adderall for adhd. Adderall is commonly abused and people do get addicted. The main idea of most anti-drug sentiment (esp. in the notes of that post) is “never try any potentially addictive substances” which is...a big oof. The shit works. I can not only study, I can actively decide to get up and study. Wild. Highkey adderall is the reason I can get over my executive dysfunction and inattention enough to actually be in college. A year ago I did not want to start a stimulant medication for adhd, but also I didn’t believe that I COULD succeed in college. The replies are all “don’t try drugs ever!!!” which is...great if you don’t need to take medication for anything. It always brings the You Are A Drug Addict brain demon back, if only because the thesis of such sentiments is always “being dependent on a substance in some way = doom” and I’m like...yeah but the reason I’m prescribed this drug in the first place is that without it I am very Not Functional. Is that a thought a drug addict would have? I was Not Functional before I started taking it. Adderall does make my life okay, if only because I don’t have to get into a sobbing panic to be able to do things and I don’t have intense anxiety surrounding academic performance. Studyblrs don’t even make me feel sick anymore! Very nice. I also take anxiety meds. Going off those would be really fuckin bad. (I know it. I’ve done it. What happened? Anxiety. Anxiety was what happened.) That is “dependence” in some way, but I would hesitate to say that makes it some kind of moral imperative that I go off them. Yes, I take them both legally, but legality is an imaginary line. ADHD is kind of an imaginary line. Doubtless practitioners exist somewhere in the world that would not have diagnosed me. I believe ADHD is a real thing, but legally, I have ADHD because I sought out a diagnosis and got it.

2. the addictiveness of drugs is highly proportional to the trauma, isolation, etc. that users experience; addiction is a direct symptom of a dysfunctional society instead of there being magical substances that are just Like That. Heroin used to be used as a painkiller fairly often and people didn’t usually get addicted. Not everyone who drinks alcohol becomes addicted even though alcohol definitely can be highly addictive and devastating. People who get addicted, often do because the drug relieves the pain. I wish that was...more acknowledged, I guess? I find things about drug addiction that focus on the properties of the substance rather than the circumstances of the person and their society to be, paradoxically, MORE victim-blame-ey because it’s about “are they Strong Enough...to resist the intense bliss...the deadly siren call...” instead of “this person is intensely traumatized and without treatment they’re self-medicating because they can’t cope” or even “our society is fucked” (but that last one would be a little too real)

2.5. “drug addiction” is almost a construct in of itself because a shit ton of people are addicted to (physically dependent on, experience withdrawal from) caffeine but that’s fairly normalized. the difference is, partly, that heroin kills people who use it a lot more than coffee does. like...illegal or restricted drugs are still just substances that do things and their dangerousness is highly dependent on context. NOT that I’m saying shooting up heroin is a good idea (it is 100% not) but I am saying that there aren’t clearly defined Bad Substances that Ensnare your Soul there’s just...Substances that do Things and some of them cause physical dependence, some build resistance really fast, and some can have terrible side effects, and we tend to not use those for medicine as much because they’re dangerous or just not useful.

Additionally, and I know the post somewhat does this, but it would be great to start reframing addiction as bad on the basis of “this drug is harming them and their relationships” instead of “they’re dependent on a drug and the fact of their dependence makes them Tarnished” because half the time it’s like some...”purity” thing or something

btw I’m not an expert on this and it’s all based on random psychology books I’ve read but yeah I have a lot of thoughts today idk

[justanotherdeadgirlwalking]

That is Just the Saddest F**king Thing I Have Ever Heard.

TW obviously DEH is about a kid’s suicide, so it has those themes

other parts :)

Part One.

Cynthia said I had to go to school today. “It’s your senior year Connor,” she said, “you can’t miss the first day,” which was just complete bullshit. I tried to compromise, “I’ll go tomorrow,” I told her. No, I had to go. Mom just wanted to get me out of the house after watching me sleep and sit in my room all summer. “Today’s a chance to go make some friends” she told me.

Look it’s not my fault that I don’t have any fucking friends, and it’s not my fault that I can’t make friends because everyone thinks of me as big, bad Connor Murphy, the freak. I’m not a freak. People just have this false idea of me in their head and have never taken the time to actually get to know me. I’ve always been a hot topic of rumors, even though I’ve never done anything really worth talking about. Except the incident in second grade. Someone explain to me why something so stupid that happened when I was 8 years old is something people still use to talk shit about me. It is still a story that gets told from time to time, “oh stay away from Connor Murphy, he’s batshit crazy. He once threw a printer at Mrs. G. because he didn’t get to be line leader” That’s not the whole story. No one knows what really happened because they weren’t even there. I mean, yes I was upset that I didn’t get to be line leader, even though it was my turn, and yes I did shove the table that the printer was on, which caused it to fall. So, I mean, I guess I threw the printer in a sense, but what does it matter? I was a child. Do you know how much embarrassing shit people did in elementary school that doesn’t get talked about because, well geez, they were children, and they’ve grown since then. Fucking Alana Beck peed her pants probably seven times that year, but we don’t talk about that. Whatever.

Most likely, no one is going to be telling that story this year. There’s some new hot gossip about me. See, I spent my junior year at a private school. It was awesome, I actually had a friend, and I was doing well, but I got kicked out. They did random locker searches, and I had weed in my locker, barley half a gram. The best part is, the weed wasn’t even mine. Not that anyone cares, not that anyone is going to ask, or listen to my side of the story. Ironically, they found so much Adderall, in probably 50 lockers, and they got away without so much as a warning. So, pills are okay, I guess, but marijuana isn’t.

Look, unlike what my parents might think, it isn’t dangerous or addicting or bad. Newsflash weed doesn’t hurt anyone. You can’t die from being too high, but pills, you can die from taking too many pills. I told them that too, I showed them statistics and research to convince them marijuana isn’t bad, they sent me to rehab to help with my ‘addiction,’ but all it did was teach me new, worse habits and prescriptions for mood stabilizers.

I’ve always been on medications to try to help me with the depression and paranoia, but I don’t like how they make me feel. Usually, I keep the pills hidden so Mom and Dad don’t catch on that I’m not taking them. I just prefer weed anyways; weed just calms me down, while the other crap I’ve been prescribed puts in a zombie like daze. I just smoke a little weed every now and then to help me get through the day.

People are going to say whatever they want, but I guess that it doesn’t help that I smell like pot anyways. That smell, no matter how many times you wash your clothes or spray your belongings with ferbreeze, never goes away. Regardless, I know I’m not the only stoner, not that I’m a stoner, but most people act like it’s a fucking personality trait to smoke. They’ll go online and post pictures of their bowls and blunts, thinking that they’re cool, but I’m a burnout freak because I smoke.

Despite my protests, I found myself in the passenger seat of Zoe’s car as she drove me to school. Some people might think it’s lame to be driven around by their little sister, but I fucking hate driving. I get too distracted, plus, other people drive like absolute nimrods. I got enough stress in my life, why add the stress of driving.

The first day of school is always a waste; you never do anything meaningful or important. People just spend the day catching up with friends, talking obnoxiously loud about their trip to Italy, or how they built houses for the homeless, and you just do ridiculous ice breakers and make nametags. It’s not like I’m going to learn anything, I’m just going to sit through hours of “two truths and a lie.” Plus, I’ll have to sit through the embarrassment of no one volunteering to guess which of my statements is the lie. No one wants to waste their time with that. Though, I will admit, I came up with some good ones this year, “My birthday is 420, I like to draw, and I have a dog.” The lie, obviously, is that I have a dog. I’ve always wanted one, but Larry has always said no, “they’re too messy.”

I try not to let other people bother me. I just focus my gaze straight ahead, walking as quick as I can to my first class, avoiding obstacles the best I can. In my opinion, people that stand in the middle of the hallway to have their conversation do not deserve rights. Hi, you, and your conversation is not more important than me trying to get to class. Have some fucking decency and at least move over to the side, Jesus Christ. On the bright side, people do tend to move out of my way. It might be out of fear, but it’s convenient. I put my head down as I cut through the middle of two people. “Hey Connor”  a boy calls, “Nice hair length,” he continues, “very ‘school-shooter’ chic.” Wow, was that really necessary; did they really have to stop me to tell me that? That’s what I need too: Connor Murphy, not only a freak, but also looks like a school shooter.

I stop in my tracks with a heavy thud as my boots hit the ground. I whip around to face the voice. I look up with a narrow gaze and see Jared Kleinman and Evan Hansen. They are two nobodies like me, but I guess they think they’re better than me.

“I was just kidding” Jared stutters, “It was a joke.”

“Oh, I know.” I say, with no emotion, “I thought it was funny, I’m laughing can’t you tell?” I close the space between us until I’m in his face, towering over him. I’m not a scary person, but I am 6’3”, so my height tends to intimidate people, plus I really like wearing all black. My physical appearance is really a shell of armor, no one knows how sensitive I really am. At least, people can’t walk all over me if they are scared of me. I stare him down, “Or am I not laughing hard enough for you” I say.

I found, that if you stare at someone long enough, they will leave you alone. Mostly, because they are creeped out. It must be working, because Jared takes a step back, “you’re such a freak,” he says as he turns to make a run for it.

Evan’s still standing there, laughing quietly to himself. “What the fuck are you laughing at” I snap at him.

“N-nothing” he stutters.

I turn to him, “do you think I’m a freak.” He’s still laughing to himself. “You’re the fucking freak,” I yell as shove him.

I pause for a moment, looking down at Evan, who is now on the ground. He looks scared, like really, scared. Does he think I’m going to beat him up? Has he been beaten up before? Who hurt him? I scan his body quickly; this kid is already in a cast. Great, I just pushed an injured kid. Maybe I really am a freak. What the fuck is wrong with me? I collect myself and quickly walk away. I don’t have time to deal with this. It’ll probably be a few hours before this goes around the school.

I make it to my locker, my eyes are still on Evan, who is still on the ground. He’s been on the ground for a while, surly he should’ve stood up by now. Fuck, did I break his legs? Zoe walks up to him and helps him up. He’s fine. I watch as Zoe talks to him for a few minutes. Even my own sister isn’t on my side. Thanks Zoe, I’ll remember that the next time you want me to cover for you when you sneak out. Mom and Dad might think I’m the fucked-up child, but they have no idea what kind of shit you get into.

Each class is a blur as I sit through hours of introductions. Finally, its time for lunch. I don’t have friends to sit with, and I don’t like to give people the satisfaction of watching me sit by myself, so usually I spend the period in the library. I’m safe among the stacks. Books can’t judge you, but they can be an escape from your fucked reality. I can’t find a place to sit in the main library, so I go in the back by the computers. There’s a kid talking on his phone, but I don’t think he’ll mind my presence. I find a seat in the corner and lose myself in a book.

Suddenly, I’m snapped back into reality when the printer goes off. It scared the shit out of me. I look at the paper the printer is spitting out, “Dear Evan Hansen” the top reads. I look over to see Evan hunched over a laptop, talking to himself. I don’t think this kid has any friends either, besides Jared, but Jared’s a dick. Evan isn’t a freak like me, but he’s just someone always in the background. Everyone knows who he is, but no one cares.

I should probably apologize to him about earlier.

I grab the paper and walk over to him, “Hey.” He looks up at me, startled. “So, what did you do to your arm anyways?” I ask him.

He looks down at is arm as if he’s confused as to what I’m talking about. “Oh”, he stammers “I fell out of a tree.”

I look at him, expecting him to say more, he doesn’t. “Well, that’s just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard” I tell him.

“I know,” he says.

I look at his cast, its blank. I guess it makes sense, since he doesn’t have any friends. “Hey, no one’s signed your cast yet; I will,” I say.

“No, no you don’t have to” Evan whines.

“Do you have a sharpie?” I ask. He stares at me for a moment before he starts digging in his backpack and pulls out a marker, handing it to me. I grab his arm, and he winces. I ignore that and write my name as large as I can along the side of his cast. I figure, no one else is probably going to sign it, so I might as well take up as much real-estate  as I can. “There,” I say, “now we can both pretend that we have friends.” Evan stares at his cast.

I remember that I still have his paper, “is this yours?” I ask, holding it out to him, “I found it on the printer, it says ‘Dear Evan Hansen,’ that’s you right?”

“Oh, that’s nothing, um, it’s stupid.” He tries to grab the paper from me, “It’s just an assignment”

I pull it out of his reach and look at it, my eyes land on Zoe’s name, “because there’s Zoe” I read aloud, “Did you write some freaky shit about my sister?”

“No, no” He stutters, trying to rip the paper out of my hand, “Why would I do that?”

“You wrote it because you knew I would find it” I snap, “So I would freak out and you can tell everyone that Connor Murphy is a fucking freak.”

“No” Evan cries.

I shove the paper into my pocket, “Fuck you” I say as I storm away.

I walk out of the library, and right out of the front door of the school. There’s still two periods left, but I don’t care, I’ve had enough of today. I keep walking, I don’t even know where I’m going. Eventually, when I’ve put enough distance between me and the school, I pause to pull out my headphones and put on some music. I don’t even care what I’m listening to, it just has to be loud enough to block out my thoughts.

I don’t feel bad about pushing Evan anymore; honestly that kid deserves way worse. He had to know I was in the room with him. No one is that oblivious to the world to not even notice that they’re not alone. Why would he write about my sister? Like does he have a weird fantasy about her that he just had to get down, and print out? Look buddy, most people keep their private thoughts in their head, where they belong.

I eventually reach a park, its oddly empty, but I guess all the children are still at school. I sit on a bench and throw my bag onto the ground, it rattles with impact. I pick it up to investigate the sound; I dig around until I find the source: a prescription bottle. I forgot that I had put my meds in here. I hold  the bottle and read the label, it’s good old Prozac. I have refused to take it ever since it was prescribed to me. If you look it up, it has so many warnings and side effects listed, it doesn’t even seem worth it. Like there’s a small chance this will make you feel better, but there’s an even bigger chance that it might kill you, or make you want to kill yourself. The irony! They give you the medicine because you think about killing yourself, but the medicine makes you want to actually kill yourself. Do doctors even care about you, or do they just write you a prescription, so you go away?

I’ve never taken a single dose of this medication, outside of the hospital where they basically force it down your throat, but now seems like a good time to. I feel so numb, what does it even matter, it’s supposed to help me right? I swallow a pill, dry, and then another, and another. I keep swallowing them until I run out of pills. I throw the empty bottle on to the ground. Suddenly, I have a killer headache; I can feel my heart pounding, thoughts are racing in my mind. I lay down on the bench and take a deep breath.

[sellmedoves]

my college experience

College. I started college in 2016. I was excited that whole summer because I got to have a fresh start and leave high school behind me. I moved into a dorm with 3 girls I didn’t know. I chose to live with random girls that year because I wanted to meet new people. I rushed a sorority at the beginning of the school year, and I met a lot of fun and kind people throughout that week. I got into a seemingly great sorority at the end of rush week and then class began the following week. I really liked my schedule; I didn’t have any 8am classes and I didn’t have any classes at all on Friday’s. It felt like I was finally moving on and starting a new, positive chapter of my life. There was always something in the back of my mind that I felt like was holding me back, though…

I was extremely homesick. My school was only about 30 minutes away from my hometown, but I’m so close to my family, especially my mom, so it was hard for me. I have 3 half siblings, but I grew up as an only child, so it was a difficult transition from always having privacy and my own space to having to share my space with 3 other girls, random girls at that. They were sweet and I actually feel lucky that I got paired with normal people, but it was still hard regardless. I began coming home on weekends and then going back to my dorm during the week. As the first semester went on, I began to isolate myself more and I didn’t have as much ambition and excitement as I used to. By the time I came back from Christmas break and started the second semester, I lost touch with most of the friends that I made, and I felt as if I was the loneliest person in the world. I ended up leaving my sorority right before spring break, isolating myself even further.

Aside from being homesick and lonely, something else I was struggling with was a fear of gaining weight. I was terrified of gaining the “freshman fifteen” that year. I feel like I’ve always had a warped perception of what my body looks like. I’m not sure why that is. Anyways, because of this fear, I barely ate. And by barely ate, I mean I would eat one of those “on the go” sized cups of Cheerios during the day, and that would be it except for when I would go home on the weekends where I’d eat real food with my family. I would look in the mirror and I was never satisfied. I don’t want to say I had an eating disorder as I feel like it’d be disrespectful to people who struggle with life-altering eating disorders for years, but I think it was a result of genuine misery and extremely deep depression. I lost almost 20 pounds that year.

I finally made it through the year and summer began. I was able to move back home, and I got a job. I loved that summer because I was finally free from my freshman year shackles. I began to see a therapist to talk through what I went through mentally and emotionally in the past year and it seemed to have helped me for the time being. I also got diagnosed with ADD that summer which makes...too much sense. I’ve struggled in school my whole life and because of the diagnosis, I now understand why. I have over-focused ADD with OCD tendencies. I tend to obsess over and hang on to things well after others have moved on from it. I’ve been that way my whole life, and now I had an answer as to why. It also causes me to experience mood swings but the Adderall (a God send) I was prescribed helped me to control them, Anyways summer passed by quickly, and I ended up moving into an apartment with 3 girls I was friends with from high school. Sophomore year started and it was great. I was so happy, and it felt like my horrific freshman year was a lifetime ago. There are no “buts” coming about this year. It truly was a wonderful year in my life and it’s something I’ll always cherish when I look back on my hellish college experience as a whole. The next year, though, is a different story.

It’s a story I’m not going to get into. It’s personal and it involves others besides myself, but I respect their privacy and lives since we’ve moved on, so I won’t be going into detail. What I will say is that I have many regrets from this year. I did a lot of things that I’m not proud of and would give anything to go back and change them. I didn’t like the person I was that year looking back, and I still don’t understand why I began to revert back to my misery, maybe it never truly went away like I thought it did. Instead of taking it out on myself like my freshman year, I took it out on others. I now take full responsibility for what I did and the people I hurt as a result and that’s something that I feel like took me a long time to do. It was cruel and it’s something I don’t and won’t try to justify anymore. I’m proud to say that I learned from that experience and the person I was then, isn’t who I am now.

After my junior year, I got an internship working at a consulting company. I LOVED this job. I loved the people I met there and made more friends there than what felt like I had in the entirety of my college experience. Real friendships where we could actually bond over something other than just being in the same class like at school. I realized that I was much happier working in a professional environment than I had ever been at school which made me even more excited to graduate. At the end of the summer, the company offered to extend my internship throughout the school year, and I was THRILLED. I was so happy that I was going to be able to leave school and go somewhere where I actually wanted to be during the week.

My senior year started soon after this and it was just…fine. Not bad but not great either. Just fine. Like I said, I was just grateful to be able to have somewhere to go after class that wasn’t just my apartment or somewhere on campus because of my job. My job began to be where I was the happiest, but, of course, school had to FUCK me over one more time. My class schedule for the second semester was Hitler on paper. I had signed up for the maximum amount of classes my school allows students to take, and just looking at it was overwhelming. I wanted to graduate on time in May and this was the only way to do it. I was forced to quit my job that I loved, and I was devastated. I continued to work there all of Christmas break up until the very last weekend before school started. I hugged my friends at work goodbye and began what would be the hardest semester of my entire life.

When I say this is the hardest semester of my life, I don’t mean it’s been hard like my freshman year was hard. I mean that my entire life is consumed with CLASSES. I feel like I never get a break and I’m always dreading tomorrow. I miss my job, and I miss when my thoughts weren’t filled with overwhelming amounts of assignments and due dates. I guess I should say I MISSED these things actually considering that all of my classes have been converted to online because of the virus terrorizing our planet. As sick as this may sound, if I could choose any semester for something like this to happen, I’m glad it was this one. I hate that a virus that is affecting so many people had to be the reason though. I’m typing this THESIS the day after my school announced it was converting to online classes and it feels like a 10,000-pound weight has been lifted off my shoulders. It felt like I was two assignments away from having a legitimate breakdown. This wasn’t at all how I imagined my last day on campus would be like, but…I’m (kinda) done with college. At least in person. Wow. 

I’m not exactly sure what prompted me to write this. I think I wanted to do it for myself as a way to finally let go of the of pain and anger I’ve experienced through college. I want to move on with my life now that I’m less than two months away from graduation and stop hanging on to things from the past and regrets that I’ve had that I just can’t change. I tend to act like I have a tough exterior, but behind that, there’s been a lot of pain and insecurity. Some of which I’ve kept to myself. Sometimes, I look back at that 18 year old girl who was burdened with so much sadness and cry. However, I want to let go of all of it. I have to. I also wanted people to know that not every college experience is the same and they’re not always going to be like what people tell you they are or what you see in the movies. I wish someone would’ve told me that. The lows I’ve felt throughout my time in college are things I wouldn’t wish on anyone especially young people experiencing their freedom and independence for the first time. I hope anyone that might read this who hasn’t started college or who is already in college make the most of their time there. Don’t compare yourself to others and don’t allow yourself to wallow and fall so deep into a hole that you feel like you can’t get out. Get help if you need it, there’s never any shame in doing so. I’m proud of myself for pushing through and I’m ready to start the life I’ve always wanted for myself. Thank you for making it through a 2 and a half page paper of my woes. 

Xo,

Dani

[nakukatti]

backstory for Irenka

Irenka is my MC for this wonderful interactive novel: @3150dahliast

She is an analytical and logical person, low-key thinks she is better than the rest. Overachiever and craves validation and praise. Has a morbid sense of humour and is sarcastic. 

Long post with some potential triggering and potentially spoilerish? stuff (substance abuse, self harm, violence, arson, surgery)

Irenka Teodozja Sówka was born in Gdansk Poland, 1st of November 1989, or so her father, Anatol Sówka told her (Irenka later learns that she was born in the US in the great aunt's house) Her mother Judyta Kowalski just took up and left her and her dad when she was 4. This made Irenka afraid of abandonment and started overachieving in fear of Anatol abandoning her too if she wasn't the best at everything. She excelled in school but closer to her teenage years started getting in truble with the teachers and other students: “I don’t see a reason to respect or get friendly with these people, dad will just haul our asses to the next city ‘cause of his “job” in a year”, but the continuous strife for straight A’s from the examns took a massive toll on her, and she started taking Adderall that she got from her classmate at the age of 17 to cope with a academic pressure.

Age 18, she moved away from Anatol’s place, started smoking cigarettes and marijuana at parties and started her astrophysics studies at Jagiellonian university in Krakow aged 19. She was also interested in astrology and tarot reading and she even did readings with her trusty deck. At 20 she met a local cocaine dealer called Jan, and started working for him. In those circles Irenka was simply known as “Teo”. Her job was to collect money from the poor bastards who hadn't paid their debts to Jan.

"Oh you don't have the money? Aw. Do you need some help with that? We could help you collect that hefty sum from yor wife's incurance... Oh? No you say? Then how about your son's?.. That’s what I thought... You have 4 days, after that I'll bring my friends "accident" and "death". 

While doing that she never actually had to end anyone, but she became a master at blackmailing and intimidating people while remaining completely emotionally detached from the situation.

A particulary bad trip on acid at age 21 resulted in her slicing both of the insides of her forearms open from elbow to wrist, she was hospitalized and rehab attempt no 1 started. Anatol tried to offer her support, but once again his “job” took him away, to the US this time. Jan tried to get her back to the gang but she refused, as she had started work at the universitys observatory. She swore not to tip Jan and the gang in exchange of peace.

Irenka, against all odds, graduated with excellent grades at 23 leaving her job at the observatory and moved to Rostock Germany to study botanics at Rostock university. Here she relapsed.

At 24 she had had enough of doctors refusing her pleas to get hysterectomy. Her endometriosis had plagued her with immense pains since age 16, so she bribed a med student from Munich with cocaine to preform it in her apartment, she was awake but numb the whole operation. She had taken Vicodin to cope with the surgery pains and at 25 was addicted to them.

Irenka started her own dealing ring around that time, secializing in growing marijuana and importing cocaine and heroin. She was succesful leader with about 10 underlings and one corrupt police officer she kept on her leash. There were few police raids but Irenka herself was never caught. At 27 she was stabbed in her right calvicle by her own underling with a kitchen knife at her appartment. Irenka and this underling, Ania she was called, had had an affair and Ania used this as an advantage to try and Kill irenka so she could hijack the throne. The knife hit next to her subclavian artery and vein, grazing them enough to cause severe bloodloss. After she was freed from the hospital she learned that the scheming against her had been spreading in the ring. The hq was in an abandoned warehouse, Irenka knew that there were old forgotten containers of oil and different flammable gasses.

She set the warehouse aflame with the schemers and Ania inside. She never knew what happened to them, she didn’t bother to find out from the news.

She somehow managed to get through with her botanical degree at 28 and moved to the US to escape police, who had now gotten a tip about her.

And at last at 29 she accidentally OD'd in Vicodin and ended up in a coma, an unfortunate pizza delivery guy found her on the floor. By some miracle they got her to wake up after two weeks. She then reconnected with her dad (who had practically lived at the hospital ever since he had gotten the call) and started rehab. She moved from her rehab center to live on the Dahlia street.

She now lives a “sober” life, she still smokes cigarettes almost daily, but she only drinks once a year on her birthdays and takes meds only if they are prescribed to her by a doctor.

She tries to better herself from what she was.

[1suebop]

My depression story- November 2018:

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor with any medical training except for my own personal study and experiences. Please consult your own very experienced physician about any medications or treatments that are specific to your situation.

Hello, friends. I am a 51 year old woman who resides in Oregon in the US. I’m a mom of five healthy children and have been married for 30 years. So, yes, a very blessed life—no severe tragedies in my life thus far to cause severe MMD/TRD. My personal, and unprofessional, belief is that depression comes from either an outer tragic experience, a deep poor mental perspective, or a physical anomaly – or any combination of the 3. I deeply wanted to share the story of my battle with depression for the past 17 years because it is with great hope that someone out there will read it and get (real) information from a (real) human being that has been through a lot of treatments and medications.

I am going to try and hit the highlights quickly:

I had had postpartum depression after each of my five babies that always took a few months but eventually disappeared. That is, until baby number five, when the start of 17 years of depression began.

My OB recognized the signs and immediately put me on an SSRI. After 4 days, the sun came out! I was completely sold on medications at that point. Sadly, it pooped out after about a year.

We moved to Oregon then and I had to start over with a new family doctor, then a psychological nurse, then my first psychiatrist. (as of now, I’ve had 3 psychiatrists here in Oregon).

All of the medical personnel, I believe, did the best they could with the training and experience they had. However, there was a particular class of medications that no one ever offered me : MAOIs (specifically Parnate or tranylcypromine). In my humble opinion, this is a travesty against human kind. If you have the time, research it and see its success rates. Also, a super experienced doctor in Australia named Ken Gillman, whom I’ve had the pleasure of Skyping with, has a very thorough web site on MAOIs called psychotropical.info.

A bit more of my medical experience : I’ve been on so many different antidepressants and meds to augment them, that I couldn’t possibly remember them all. I do remember a lot of switching, titrating up, and complete experimentation. After being on a combo of Effexor (venlafaxine—AND PLEASE READ BELOW WHAT I WROTE OF THE WORLD’S MOST AWFUL DRUG!) and Abilify, my doctor was so desperate (as I was) she included the amphetamine, Vyvanse, which worked great until I had hit the maximum dose and it just wasn’t enough anymore. She then added Adderall to the mix. Again, Adderall needed to be increased in time to get the desired effect. I now had officially become a drug addict in my opinion. Oh, and Klonopin (clonazepam) combined with Clonidine to be able to sleep at night – no surprise there. I also do not want to leave out that I have had a psychotherapist for 2 years – one of the best things to come out of this trial (and he has become my very dear friend as well).

EFFEXOR (VENLAFAXINE) NOTE: While this particular drug may appear to be just another antidepressant, it is NOT! I know that it is effective for some and possibly worth the risk. But please do not go into it blindly. The physicians that prescribe it (I believe) do not know about the withdrawal effects. To name a few which last for 6 weeks to many months after the last dose: sever nausea, sweats/chills, constant brain “zaps”, body aches, and even more severe depression had it not ever been taken at all. I have contacted the FDA about this drug in hopes that at the very least, physicians, and therefore patients, will be fully informed of the chance they are taking. I personally am NOT a fragile flower (my liver can metabolize just about anything) and I swear to you, EFFEXOR should truly be taken off the market.

In the last 12 months…. I have withdrawn from Clonidine, Abilify, Adderall, Vyvanse (pure h***), and continue to withdraw from Effexor (its been only four weeks, so I am still suffering ). I’ve done TMS (which I HIGHLY recommend, even if it’s wonderful effects only lasted two weeks for me, it may be the magic bullet for someone else). 10 treatments of ECT (completely ineffective, and the memory loss and heartbreak have been horrible). But I’m still, however, hanging onto my dear psychotherapist!

There was a psychiatrist that was present during my detox off of Vyvanse up in Portland (I took the route of an IV Nadh treatment for a week) who was the first person to suggest the MAOI (Parnate). Be alert, if you go hunting around on the net about MAOIs, you will get a ton of dated misinformation (even on WebMD and Drugs.com) that will scare the heck out of you. Please, again, check out Dr. Gillman’s site: psychotropical.info for the most up to the minute research on this (perhaps magical) medication. If you research long enough (as I have) you will discover exactly who knows their pharmaceutical business and who does not. It truly is shocking.

Current update, Nov. 18th, 2018, (which I will continue as time goes on) : My current meds are 25mg of Parnate- my awesomely open minded doc is titrating it up very slowly. The therapeutic dose is 30-60mg, so while I cannot say yet that I have finally won the war, my hopes are pretty high. But I will update one way or another soon. Right now, every day feels like an eternity—Note: I took my last dose of Effexor 4 weeks ago and then had to have a “washout“ period of about a week. The only clear sign that my body is responding to the Parnate is miserable insomnia which is very common. (FYI: I figured out that a combo of 75mg trazodone and 1mg of clonazepam works like a dream, pun intended!- and it is completely safe to take with Parnate).

My suggestions if you ever go this route:

*always keep in mind this is a LONG process, so don’t give up!

*be super careful with drug and food interactions. MAOISs CAN KILL you, but the information on the internet is old and exaggerated—so study up!

*get on top of your sleep. It’s the only break from the suffering you will get.

*small doses of caffeine have been my friend. And Klonopin/Clonazepam, once I got my sleeping under control, helps give me a lovely nap everyday.

*I only read about this recently, so it’s a little late for me to try it, but it should be known that patients who are switching from an SSRI/SNRI to Parnate, can (it’s safe) use Nortriptyline as a bridge while coming off one drug and starting the MAOI to ease the withdrawal symptoms. This idea is totally worth looking into.

*please find a belief system: God, Buddha, the Universe, whatever. You WILL need it in those dark days.

*And please know that you are not alone. Ever! You are important and worthwhile. I personally care about each of you (if only for the fact that I’m your sister in suffering) and totally believe that a happy future is in store for you.

Love and hugs, Suebop

I’m going to post this letter on a few depression forums… so you may bump into it more than once. Sorry!

[swarnpert]

Hi, sorry is this is too personal but what ADHD medication do you take? And have you actually been diagnosed with ADHD? My therapist and I have expected that I might have ADHD and made me do some tests, but apparently I didn't show signs during those tests. And I asked my psychiatrist who prescribes my antidepressants if he thinks I could possibly have it and if we can test different ADHD meds out to see if they help but he doesn't want to yet. I was just curious how the process went for you?

i take adderall (10 mg). originally back in 12th grade i was going through a really bad spout of depression, but i was also having a lot more difficult time focusing in class and on my work. i did research on like if i really did have some form of adhd or just my depression and it did seem like a viable cause. the only major thing was that i wasnt diagnosed with it as a child so i was still doubtful (then again 1. i didnt really have any symptoms [of anything] as a child and 2. there are recent articles going around of afab people having different signs and symptoms of adhd than amab people, which makes total sense if my parents or teachers didnt notice anything besides some really bad social anxiety). that summer i saw my previous therapist (who i saw for my gender issues) and asked her about it. she said she wanted to see if my depression cleared up and then figure it out (it did clear up after i got my life back together, got new friends, a job etc.) i stopped seeing her after i got my job 2 years ago because i didnt really have any issues anymore (and was scheduled to start testosterone therapy anyway). then like a year later i talked to my regular doctor about it and she was like yeah you gotta see a psych or therapist about that so now im at my current therapist who figured out i had adhd after like 2 sessions (because she also has adhd). i saw the psych who works in the same building and first tried to prescribe me concerta but my insurance wouldnt cover it, then perscribed me adderall (my insurance still wont cover it but thats like $60 vs $240). anyway while did and still definitely have depression adhd meds sure work a hell of a lot better for me than 5 different antidepressants. thats how my mental illness has been the past 4 years

[a-quiet-borderline-diary]

BACK 2021

It has been YEARS since I have posted, but I believe that writing in a diary blog would be beneficial to me again, so I'm back again. I was hoping a new blogging platform would have taken off by now to make a new diary blog, but it seems nothing like what Tumblr used to be is in the mainstream right now (as far as I know.)

I can't even remember what year I stopped writing here, but I am still alive, still coping, and still living with borderline personality disorder. I have been out of therapy for about a year because I didn't want to do remote sessions, but I decided recently to bite the bullet and go back anyway because seeing a therapist is required if I switch back to my old medication management clinic. I am not happy with my current med management doctor tbh.

The doctor I have been seeing for the past couple of years cut down the limit on my adderall prescription, but I endured the lower dose because this doctor was more willing to prescribe me newer drugs for my mood and depression than the doctor at my old clinic would. At this point I'm on the following meds: 30mg adderall XR morning, 30mg adderall IR 5pm, Cymbalta 30 mg, Trintellix 20mg, Latuda 60mg, and Klonopin 0.5mg (as needed). Now that I'm already on these meds, I doubt my doctor will try to take me off of everything when I switch back. I would like to go back on my old adderall prescription though. I suffer pretty sever executive dysfunction. My old dose was 30mg IR 3x a day instead of one XR and one IR. I feel the XR does not last as long as it is supposed to when I take it. This may have something to do with how it interacts with other meds I take but I'm not sure for certain. I deff felt like 90mg a day was solid though, and I doubt they're going to allow me to take anything higher than that dose. It sucks how controlled adhd meds are, because after years of taking it (sometimes off meds when I lacked insurance for a short period though) I feel it just doesn't have the same effect on me that it once had.

I think a lot of it also has to do with the fact that when I first started taking adderall, I was only on that medication by itself at many points and it wasn't until my early-mid 20s that I began taking several other types of psychiatric meds alongside the adderall. For instance, adderall alone used to help me a lot with maintaining a low appetite, but now that I'm on all these other meds I think some of it may increase appetite and just kind of cancel that side effect out.

Over the last year and a half I gained 60 pounds. I have lost 10 of it so far using a caloric deficit diet limiting my calories to 1200 a day with *one* cheat day on Saturday where I can eat whatever I want without counting. The longer my diet has gone on, the less I am tempted to overindulge or binge on Saturday.

My diet has been going in for about 1 month. I'm a little discouraged at the moment, because I dropped that first 10 pounds in the first 2 weeks, but now 2 more weeks have passed and I'm still weighing in about the same. I am continuing to stick to my calorie limit 6 days a week though.

My normal weight is about 125-130, and now I weigh a little under 175. Before the weight loss recently I was 185, so I'm glad to have at least seen some progress in a month. My goal is to get back to what my normal size usually is.

I feel that I got to this weight through a period over a year and a half of much indulgence and binge eating. Since I'm still "mid sized" despite all the weight gain, most people don't take me seriously and I don't think they see the bigger picture of why I got this way. I was being like... Reckless about eating. For example, for a couple months I was getting the same lunch at Starbucks every day. The lunch consisted of a large green tea Frappuccino with white mocha, peppermint, and vanilla bean powder. I also ordered a grilled cheese sandwich every day, as well as a cake pop. The calories of that daily lunch was over 1000 for just one meal. I was also eating large dinners, and after dinner I would smoke, get the munchies, and eat tons of candy. I don't know for sure, but I wouldn't be surprised if I ate like 3000 calories a day on a regular basis. There were days where I ate until it hurt, or until I felt sick. It was not normal.

I started developing bladder pain problems and had to go to physical therapy, and basically the main lesson I took from the physical therapy is "the sugary and carbonated drinks you frequently choose instead of water are causing you irritation and pain." This lesson mostly put my drink choice habits into question, but when this happened I decided to make a change and really just eat less, and stop wasting my daily meal calories on sugary drinks. I am still working on creating better habits about drinking water, but I only drink diet drinks or water now unless it's *cheat day. * I also cut energy drinks out completely, which I used to drink excessively (sometimes 3 a day). My body is already thanking me as I experience less pain when I am more conscious of my habits, but it's a process.

I know this is primarily a mental health blog, but my physical health (which is usually in acceptable condition) really just stated taking a downward turn on the diet of binging and indulgence I was on so I really need to change it.

Another change that occurred since my last entries, is that I ended up graduating college and now I am working full time. My job is relatively gentle on my mental health and body. However, since the job is in an office and it's sedentary, it is a little harder to maintain healthy habits. Even so, I'd rather balance that out by walking with my dog when I get home and doing squats in the bathroom at work 🙊 It feels AMAZING to work a job where I don't have to interact with customers or the public. I oversee two independent workers so even as a supervisor I barely have to do any supervising work. I can just focus on my tasks, manage out the time for the day, and go at a comfortable pace to get it all done. I have been doing well there and I have been promoted twice already... The only thing better really would be a job that pays more or a job where I can work remotely. A remote job would be a dream, because then I could spend time sitting with my cats and dog while I'm working. Honestly, I'm also hoping that if I ever get a remote job then I'll be able to squeeze in some household chores when I'm in between tasks.

Change is on the horizon, but I'll make another post discussing my upcoming life changes. For now, this has been what was missed in relation to my mental and physical health since I stopped writing here. I look forward to filling you all in more, (to anyone who still follows me) and possibly reaching some new readers who may find my entries relatable, inspiring, interesting, or helpful in some way.

✌️

[trashylvania]

i haven't been active on here much lately, bc i've p much been watchin tv and attempting to paint in between horrible instances of nausea. i was given an urgent appointment slot at my primary doc's office, and told her about this bc i'm p sure my spleen has enlarged (due to whatever this hideous mystery illness is that's making me miserable) and so it's prob putting pressure on my stomach bc i've been getting mad pain there. i've been trying to deal w this by popping benadryl every few hours, but it's not enough. i asked my doc for Zofran bc it helped me a lot in the hospital, but she can't prescribe it until we 100% know what's causing it. hopefully that'll be soon, bc after examining me my doc confirmed that i do have firm masses or nodules on many lymph nodes throughout my body, so she ordered a CT scan of my chest, abdomen, and pelvis. it's rly unusual to get that many CT scans (esp bc i had a chest CT years ago when my heart first got bad in the hospital) bc it's a LOT of radiation... but i guess the 'watch and wait' period is officially over bc i'm not improving (and now that my spleen has fucked off i'm actually worse from when i last saw my doc a few weeks ago) and that warrants CT imaging. in the meantime, my doc said that my nausea could be controlled with klonopin (a med i demanded my old pdoc to taper me off of after 2 years or so bc i couldn't handle the withdrawals when i 4got to take my dose) so i declined. i never thought i'd say this tho but... i'm kinda reconsidering. i need to be 500% certain this isn't gonna fuck with my pain management tho bc i'm not even at an effective dose yet (my Adderall is legit more effective at getting my focus off my pain so i can get shit done, but i only take it 2x a day so i'm functional for less than 8 hours a day lmao.) like this nausea is bad, but all my docs know my anxiety is bad even tho i never complain about my anxiety lmao. i just know how easily i could be on it for the rest of my life, but i'm gonna be on my other 7 or 8 meds 4evr too, so i should just literally swallow my pride and message my doc about it lmao

[lovingmyselfmorethanyou]

running

The last days were captivating. I wanted to save him. I wanted too marry this man. I wanted to have children and grow old. Most importantly I wanted him to see my truth. I wanted him to see that the only one that could make me leave was him. So that he did. I didn't know if he was sick. I still don’t know if he truly believes his own delusions. I just know if I didn’t leave he would be in prison and me dead. December 17th my birthday, the day he started his downhill spiral. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what caused it. I don’t know if he found drugs again and couldn’t handle it. I spent my birthday with my son and his two kids. The morning was great, we were snowed in and all the kids happy. We had new toys because I couldn’t wait for christmas. I wanted them all too have their presents now. But then he left. He left with his brother to shovel his fathers driveway out. He came home and everything was ok. He wanted to surprise me with lunch for my birthday.. but we had already ate. My mom called.. they had just moved or well was in the process of moving. He left to shovel my moms driveway. 1 hour goes by.. then 2.. then 3. He calls me telling me he isnt coming back because he knows what I did. I hadn’t done anything. I stayed with the babies. I stayed up under him to avoid causing any and all issues. I tried to be perfect. We argued. He yelled. He really thought I had hooked up with his cousin.  I never even contacted his cousin. That day I was forced to block his cousin and his girlfriend. I was ok with that. Anything to make him happy, right? It simmered. Everything felt like it could be ok again, this had become a normal thing for me. Him thinking I was up to no good and causing arguments. This wasn’t the first time. I never cheated. Not once. At this point he had cheated 4 times that I knew about in a year. He is the one who didn’t know how to be faithful. This was the opening day for the week to come. Just like usual this argument was dropped because he didn’t want too ‘ruin’ my birthday. Things continued off and rocky. It was December 20th that my world would change. My son left to go by his dads like he always does but this time was different. His kids mom came over and wouldn’t leave. This always put him in a ancy state because of what ‘she did too him’. Now being in my position.. I don’t think she ever did anything too him. December 20th, he had taken adderall. He was prescribed it but never used it accordingly. This meant he would want head. He always wanted head when he took something. I would guilted into giving it for hours. If I would stop it would be made that I was depriving him. This went on from 4pm-11pm. I had work in the morning. I was ready for bed. I wasn’t allowed to go to bed. He started with this delusion that I was ‘nodding’ out the whole time I was giving head. That I was on drugs. That I owed him another round because he was watching porn and found ‘me’ the same thing that happened with his kids mother. That if I could do that with someone else it was the least I could do. I submitted but continued to argue. He got fed up. Like he always does. I got smacked. I got threatened. I got told if I made a sound when I walked out the door too the car that I would regret it. I knew I would regret it if I let anyone know what was going on. His brother and his girlfriend were in one room. There was two friends on a blow up mattress in the living room. His younger brother was in his room with his girlfriend and his baby mama was in the bathroom. I had to smile laugh and walk myself outside to my fate. The beating I knew that would come. This time it was different. We got in the car.. for this he would always sit in the driver seat. That was nothing new. I sat in the passanger seat helpless, knowing the blows would start soon enough. He turned on the car and hit me with his normal line, if you would just be honest with me this wouldnt have to happen this way. I told him I was being honest. That I never did any drugs and I wasn’t a user. At this point I was being beat because I wouldnt tell him where I put drugs, where I did them or how I got them to his baby mama and his mother. Things I had never done. He turned to me, his face recognizable yet so different. That was the first blow. I got a gut punch. I lifted my knees to my chest like I always did. He then asked me if I was sure this is what I wanted as he threw the car in reverse. He then asked me again, and again I answered with the truth I wish he would see. He hit me again. He continued to make the right onto the side road where he put the car in park something he had never done before. He asked me again. I answered again. This time he said he never wanted to do any of this but it yet again me that made it happen, that I’m the one who caused all this. That he loves me more than anything and would accept me if I would just be honest. Thats when I whimpered that I was being honest and he just would never see it. That’s when he wailed on me. Time after time. My top of my head. My eye. My cheek bone. My lip busted. I was stuck I was scared but it wasnt over yet. I knew it wasnt. He’d hit me as we drove until we parked again. He would threaten me. I would answer with the same response that I knew where it would get me. Finally when we stopped for the last time he apologized. He said he couldnt stand what he had done to me. That it would never happen again. My whole right side of my face was swollen and busted. I cried. It was the same cycle. He would be back too who I could confide in. I told him how much it hurt, how much I loved him, how much I wanted for us to be ok. I would hyperventilate and he would calm me down like he cared if I was to pass out.  We went home the same song and dance except this time it was my face. it was something I couldnt hide. We walked inside, his baby mama still there. She made his bed, searched his room, and took my laptop. I knew it was over for me. I knew then there would be a round two. My face beaten and battered. My lips stinging from being busted open. He looked at me and told me he wanted head. I listened. I did as he asked for 2 hours with a bruised face and busted mouth. At this point it was 4am. I thought my nightmare was over. He walked out the room and walked back in. His face twisted. He started demanding my drugs and that I was high. He sat down in front of me and when I told him I didnt have any.. he said he knew how to get the answers he wanted. He walked out too the kitchen and grabbed a knife. He said I would talk when my face was sliced open. He told me he would give me one more chance. One more chance to be honest. I answered like I always did because I never wanted to tell a lie to him. It was then he hit me in my head again and started twirling the knifes blade in his hand. He told me he knew everything and I needed to speak up before things went to far. I said I’ve told you everything. It was then he grabbed me with the knife in his hand and I grabbed the blade to stop it from touching my neck. He choked me but I still held the blade not even feeling it breaking the skin on my fingers. He heard people in the kitchen so that’s when he got up and told me we were going for another ride. That this time I would speak. We got in the car and the blows began. He parked down the street from his house at the fire house. It was 530 at this point. I watched as cars passed, as they were all doing normal things on their way to work. I calculated how far I could run before he caught me all while he yelled at me for drugs I didnt do. He pulled the knife again this time telling me it would be in my chest or my leg depending on what answer I gave him. I answered wrong. He lunged at me and I grabbed the knife again, this time catching him off guard because that was twice I had fought back. This was a year in and I had never fought back. He smiled and tossed the knife out the window. He said he didnt need the knife to hurt me and thats when he shifted in his seat and said he would just kick me until I answered. He had on steel toe work boots. The odds werent in my favor. He started asking questions again and I kept answering while crying. This time something clicked. He stopped and just like that whatever that was, was over for the time being. He asked me too buy him a pack of cigs,, I did. I wanted to please him to keep him happy. I wanted everything to be ok. I wanted to go home and sleep. I wanted normal and all I got was dysfunctional bullshit. When we got home, I fell asleep. I don’t even know how. I think I just knew I would rather die in my sleep.