greetings from utah

     I have been trying to avoid blogging until my VPN starts miraculously working again, but that just has not happened yet. Which sucks because I just paid $40 for a year subscription to get it. :/
     So much has been happening every day that to do an entire recap would take ages to write, and I really, really do not feel like writing right now for whatever reason.
     I suppose the biggest thing is that I am talking to Joe again now. The first day of school I discovered I had a class right next to his apartment. My depression absolutely blinded me and I ended up driving over there. Surprised him pretty well. He told me two days later that me having driven by really messed him up, because when he broke up with me he thought he was doing what was best for me. He thought that I was moving down there entirely for him. And when he saw that it was not the case, he realized how bad he messed up. He apologized for not giving me the benefit of the doubt.
     It is nice to have Joe back in my life again. But for some reason I still feel that I am walking on shattered glass. One wrong move and I will cut myself up something fierce.
     Codependency sucks. But explaining codependency to him, and why I require so much from him emotionally, would be like trying to explain my dead fish. He would not understand. And he would just get freaked out and think that I was unhealthily attached to him or something. Which might be true; I do not know. But I do not want him to be the one making the separating decision for me again because he thinks he knows what is best. Leave it to me to figure that part out on my own.
     It is funny because he said that people who think too much about relationships are silly, and that he would not want to be with someone who considered him some sort of rubiks cube instead of just relaxing and letting things happen naturally. Which is exactly what my obsessive, depressive, and codependent mind does. But I'm a good faker.

wisp

  I am having a really really rough day. Can you try and keep google chat open or mail me a time that you will be online? Since I am in my new apartment I dont know when I will have internet, but if all else fails I will use my phone.

greetings from iowa

     Today was the first day I have ever been in a car when it has broken down on the highway. Coincidentally, today was also the first time my car has broken down. It just decided to do it on the highway. During my 21-hour, time-pressed trip to Utah. In an unfamiliar state. In the sun. The luck of it all, eh?
     Fortunately, all that is broken is the front axle and possibly the battery and not the transmission which I feared (if the transmission goes out, it's already decided that my car is as good as dead). Unfortunately, however, I am stuck in Iowa until the axle gets fixed, which essentially means that I will be arriving in Utah approximately 4am on Saturday versus 5pm on Friday. As lucky as I am to be able to keep my car, I am still really bummed that all of my house mates will arrive and settle in a good day before me. I was hoping for the exact opposite - to get there before anyone else so that I could feel comfortable myself. Walking into an occupied house where the room mates already know each other just seems a lot less appealing versus getting there before everyone and being able to relax. That's just the introverted part of me. This just feels.. unsafe. Like being caught off guard and vulnerable.
     Does this even make any sense? Or am I just being over dramatic?
     Anyway, I tried my CPAP for the first time last night. It's awkward to say the least. There's nothing comfortable about rolling on your side with two rubber plugs shoved up your nose constantly blowing air through a tube that wraps around you when you turn. If you have ever stuck your head out of a car window when it is going down the highway, it feels an awful lot like that. Or like sticking a reverse vacuum up your nostrils, I guess. I don't know how anyone gets used to these things.
     Oh, the package for it also has a picture of an old woman with white hair on it. Like I didn't feel like a freak enough. Now I get to be reminded every night that I'm an 18 year old wearing something made for 60 year olds.

sing me to sleep

     Here's to the last night I will be sleeping in my own bed - the one I have had since a child - with my fan gently blowing the beads of my dream catcher against the wooden headboard, my laptop placed on my nightstand, room darkening deep red curtains pulled shut to block the porch lights from other houses from lighting up my room, in the company of my beloved cats, and only a few yards away from my family.

     I feel that I am not ready to let this all go... There's a lump in my throat, and my nose is tingling. Anxiety has its cold grip upon me and I cannot help but feel so terribly dismal.

     I want to text Wisp during my long trip to help me feel better, but alas, it does not look like that will be happening seeing as my phone is not working. AT&T re-shot a signal to it, but I tested it today myself using Pinger and it still did not go through. I know it is my phone that is messed up because a few days ago I was not receiving the codes google was texting me in order to access my gmail account.

     I do not know if I feel so sad because PristiQ is not being effective or if it is normal. But I do want to cry. And I know I will when I see them leave.

     I got your e-mail, Wisp. I figured this post would be an efficient enough reply. I just.. don't know what to do.

one am

2am and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake

"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?

I don't love him; winter just wasn't my season."

     Well, it's one in the morning, but close enough.

     The secretary for the doctor I was supposed to see tomorrow called. She said that one of the nurses noticed I was over eighteen, and apparently they only see adolescents (despite the fact I am still seeing one of their adolescent care specialist in the same building?) and therefor cannot see me. They said the person who my mum scheduled with must not have caught my age.. even though she gave him or her my birthday and clearly said, "We need to get an appointment within the next week because she's heading off for college."

     Sigh. I guess my good diagnostic luck could not last forever.

     And it really sucks. All of this sucks. Having sleep apnea royally sucks. Having the appointment that was supposed to help my sleep apnea cancelled sucks. My mother is over here talking about how pessimistic I am, and that I should be looking at the bright side, that "Hey, now you know what's wrong with you!" But so far it has not actually changed anything and that fact that I even have it in the first place is horrible luck in itself. PristiQ has not been effective yet either. Sometimes it takes a few days, but I can feel the familiar feeling of disappointment looming. If it does not work... I don't know what I will do.

     I am a stupid dead fish and I want to live so bad but nothing is working.

of sins and virtues

     I woke up about an hour ago and could not fall back asleep. Ended up browsing the internet and stumbled upon this article about a woman who made a pledge to God when she was ten years old. It was an interesting read, and I am of course not judging Christianity because I know it is not black and white, but I was wondering what you thought of it, Wisp. We have never really spoken about this part of Christianity before and I am curious where you stand.

http://www.styleite.com/first-person/i-waited-until-my-wedding-night-to-lose-my-virginity-and-i-wish-i-hadnt/

anxiety anxiety

     I was thinking about going to bed early tonight but all I can think about right now is that I am leaving next Wednesday and will not see my mother for four months. I have gone two months without her in the past back when I was shipped to Seattle, but even that was incredibly hard on both of us, and at least then I was surrounded by people I knew and my biggest worry was whether I did my homework right versus keeping my grades up in college whilst maintaining an appropriate amount of sanity all on my own. I have felt the cold breath of a monster mimicking impending doom upon my back but I have kept it at bay for the duration of summer. Now he is creeping steadily closer and I cannot help but cringe. Anxiety is truly a beast. Granted, even without anxiety I am sure I would feel the same, as would anyone else being pushed out of their nest. And at the end of the day, all of this was my choice. I do not know why, but I feel like I have to do this. I have to. And I think a tremendous amount of this feeling came from my conversations with him; Joe. He made me feel that I cannot stay at home. I had eighteen years of protection and now I must face the real world, because staying stagnant will only dwindle any opportunities I have out there. I have to take advantage of this while I have the chance; while my parents are able and willing to support me, while I am young so that I can grab life by the horns before anyone else, and while I have not phased out of an academic mindset. Such a peculiar feeling for someone who is clinically depressed and crawling around the bottom of an emotional canyon, is it not? At least I can thank him for that.

pristiq

     Dear Creators of Pristiq,

          Thank you for creating the only anti-depressant that (apparently) works for me. You might just be my pill in shining armor.

     Yup, there it is, folks. The results of the DNA test I took which determines which alleles I received from each parent. From both parents I got either a) no pathway to process medication or b) a pathway which only partially processes medication. There are footnotes at the bottom of the page which explain what each number next to the different medications mean - essentially, the medications on the left work for me, the medications in the middle might, and the medications on the right will either not work or they will have detrimental effects, which explains why Prozac sent me in a downwards spiral.

     And there are the opioids (pain killers) that will work for me. Guess my 'rents won't have to worry about me getting high on morphine or Vicodin with all the other kids in college.

     Now I am just extremely worried about what this means for my other medications, which my mother and psychiatrist gave me funny looks for because I should be happy I now have this information (hello, anxiety?). Primarily, my birth control. A few months back I got the implant called Nexplanon which is supposed to prevent pregnancy for three years. It's basically a small straw surgically placed in my arm. But now that I know I cannot process the majority of medications I'm worried it is not 99% effective as it is supposed to be... which is really, really picking at me because I thought I had the next 3 years of my life covered and dealt with. I'm not active now, but I know I am headed for college, and maybe in a few years if something happened.. I just wanted to be prepared. And now I might not be.

     Plus, it might be the reason I'm bleeding for all but one week of the month. 

i heard the reverberating footsteps

     I was loafing around and feeling guilty because I have not replied to any of my friend's messages the past several days. In fact, I had not even looked at them. I do not know why I do this; avoid people for no reason despite knowing I will then feel guilty.. and then the thought occurred to me, I may be just like him.

edit: Wisp hasn't made a post in a few days now.. comeon, girl. You know I live for your blog. (Plus that kind of worries me.)

i built you a home in my heart

... with rotten wood made the cave from the start

- dcfc

     I am writing this before I switch over to my primary Google account because hopping back and forth is very tedious when you enable twenty million security features like I do. Thus, I am writing before reading any (possible) e-mails you have sent me, Wisp. I will look as soon as I can providing the real world quits interrupting (which it has a very profound talent of doing..).

     He called last night. I did not know until this morning because I left my phone in my folk's room since it is now pretty much useless and broken and I never talk to anyone on it. My mother was half asleep but she remembered being awoken by his first call. She said she missed it, but when she picked up my phone she noticed I had a text from him, and whilst reading it he called again. Of course my phone does this thing where if someone happens to call you at the same time you press a button it immediately hangs up on the person. Which is probably a good thing because my mother asserted if he had called again she would have ripped him.
     The texts?

     "Don't have to talk if you don't want. Just wanted to ask you something."

     When my mum accidentally hung up on him he then sent:

     "Right. My b. Take care."

     My best guess is he was drunk because he has never said anything like "my b" as he is quite erudite as a former English major. But I could always be looking too much into it. As for the question - and my mum agreed with me - I believe he wanted to know if I was still moving to Utah.
     And in case there is a lapse in memory here, his reasoning for us "taking a break" is because he could not cope with me wanting to move out there to be with him. Which I cannot deny.. to an extent. I knew I wanted to move to the west coast after living near Seattle for two months, I just didn't know exactly where. And I later happened to know a guy who I felt I was in love with who, coincidentally, was in that area. Who wouldn't go for it?

     ... And I don't know how to feel about last night. I saw it coming, when I think about it. But if I were to have picked up the phone last night, and had he asked me, I do not know what I would have said. His best friend asked me on Facebook if I was still moving out there, too. I didn't answer him either. I could not tell you why, but for some reason, I want to leave him guessing. I want him to think I stayed here in my state; that I was weak, and that he was the reason I was going to move out there in the first place, the entire reason, and that he was right. And in this fantasy, the day that he realizes he had been wrong this entire time, when he sees that I am in his state, and sees that I don not need him and never did, so clearly proven by having been strong on my own, I hope it hits home. Hard. I want him to regret leaving me again.

     I still love him, you know. 

     I think I have this warped idea that if all of that does indeed happen, he will realize I was never dependent on him and thus he will want me again. Or maybe one day he will realize how absolutely stupid he was for ending us based on a "feeling" when he had just told me he would not act on his commitment issues.
     And yeah, I think this is all because of his commitment issues. One, because this has happened before. Different problem, same situation. I proposed the thought of me moving in with him and he was totally on board with it. Said he'd take care of me and everything. Then the next day he freaked out and broke up with me. Granted, when he did it, he had different excuses for doing so. It wasn't until several weeks/months later that he came forth and explained how he really felt. And two, because his reasoning makes no sense.
     I hope I am right. I hope I don't get hurt again, too. He had some really shit timing, all things considered.

     On another completely unrelated note, I haven't really spoken too much about my medications, so before continuing my blog and possibly confusing myself or anyone else (not likely..) down the line, I digress. Currently I take 2mg of Ambilify in the morning which will be increased to 5mg in two days as I just started it less than a week ago. With the Ambilify I also have 300mg of Welbutrin. After three in the afternoon, although I am terribly not punctual, I take two 100mg pills of Zoloft. Some days I also take a vitamin d3 pill due to having a deficiency, but I'm really supposed to take every day. And now, as of a few days ago, I take two 5mg pills of Melatonin before I go to bed at night. In the past I have been prescribed Lexapro, Prozac, and Trazodone, none of which, unfortunately, have helped me.
     Reading that is hard, even for me proof-reading, so I'll just make a chart!

     Morning: Ambilify, Welbutrin, vitamin d3
     Afternoon: Zoloft
     Night: Melatonin

     Tomorrow I am going to see my - original - psychiatrist for my follow-up appointment. You know, the one she magically scheduled when her 'next appointment' would be for August 30th, AFTER I left? That one. The only reason I am seeing her is so that she'll write me a 'prescription' per se that will allow me to take Peanut to college with me. He can also sit with me on airplanes. Isn't that swell?

     After that Mum wants the two of us (and my baby sister) to go to the south side to look at phones since she's picky about where she takes her business. She also wants to go to the airport to exchange my voucher for tickets for me to come home for Christmas this year, and at some point we have to go get our military I.D's renewed. So I promise, Wisp, I am not purposely neglecting you. Depression is a full time job sometimes and it gets that much harder when others expect things from you when all you can manage is Depression Parkour.

     Let's take a moment to appreciate this picture, now.

     It is incredibly accurate.

     My biological father sent me more mail today - a note written on lined paper (with the frillies still connected) and folded middle-school style.

     "Hello, I sent you a card on 7-14 and wondered if you got it? I was very excited and was hoping to hear from you but never have. I really wanted us to try to talk things out and build a relationship. I fear that you have already labeled me as a loser since I don't have a good paying job. If you don't want to see or talk to me I wish you would just say no. I am not a bad person and your mom knows that. I do not drink and have never done any drugs "ever". I just live a simple life, I have tried many times to get a much better job, but I am terrible at math. I only understand basic only. I had to re-take the math test three times to get my GED and barely past. I'm good at everything else and got good scores. Anyway we all want to see you. You clearly saw how upset my mom and I was too. I just fought it till after you left, then it hit me hard. There's really nothing more I can say til if and when I see you or talk to you."

     At the bottom he put his phone number and said, "Call anytime. Even if it's 3am. I don't care." Signed, "Love you,"

     The note I copied word for word, grammar mistakes and all - not that it matters. What matters is how hard it is to hate someone whose words show love and regret ten years later, whilst during the ten years his actions had not. I start to wonder if he really does care about me. Then another part of me chimes in and reminds me that he always had an option to find me, because there is always a way. Nobody prevented him from getting my address or information from court, or finding my mother in a phone book, or even taking her back to court to see me. In court he insisted that he didn't have the money to get an attorney to do so, but he had one there to defend him against helping me pay for college? I guess I must still be a child because this situation is beyond me and I honestly don't know what to think.

     Nip out.

anger trumps depression?

     I very rarely get angry. Ever. And I just got angry. Not even over something big. I was watching Meadow for the past hour and she was crying her head off and kept spitting her binky out so there was no stopping her. When my mother came to retrieve her, she tripped over the power cord to my game... which promptly shut off. 2-3 hours of work on that stupid game baby-sitting a screaming child, now gone.

     And I don't even know WHY I'm mad, but oh am I furious right now. And then I want to cry at the same time. I make no sense. I thought I was past that part of being a teenager?

use the needle of your compass to sew up your broken heart

   Today, whilst waiting in the office of a new psychiatrist I planned to see due to my previous ones failing, my primary care doctor's nurse called me with the results of the sleepy study I had taken. She informed me that it took me an hour to fall asleep, and within the total 8 hours I was in bed, I slept a total of 3 hours, which I had personally read already and stated in my previous post. At one point during a 48-minute period I awoke 20 times. I stopped breathing 3 times that night for an average of 17 seconds. My sleep quality was 28%. And I have now been officially diagnosed with severe sleep apnea. Chances are, I'm going to have to now carry around a CPAP machine for the rest of my life.
     The fact that I have sleep apnea is a total surprise, and I feel so absolutely hurt. Hurt because for the past several years the people around me always convinced me that being so tired was my fault - that I wasn't going to bed on time or that I was not exercising enough or that I couldn't hold a sleep schedule and stick to it. I had been told by countless doctors and therapists that my fatigue and daytime sleepiness was due to my depression, and believing that sleeping encouraged my depression and was ultimately one of the causes, my mother religiously kept me awake by going so far as to purposely set off the fire alarm in my room in order to discourage me from accidentally falling asleep. When she sent me to live with my aunt after my depression reached rock bottom four years ago, she, too, refused to allow me rest, and refused to allow me to sleep until 9 at night or wake up later than 5 in the morning. My teachers hated when I slept during class, and so did I because I felt I was personally offending them, but they too believed it was my fault alone and that I was the typical teenager staying up so late. When I fell asleep after school I was met with disapproving looks from my step father who chastised me with little comments to make sure I knew. And I couldn't help it. I tried so hard to fix this about myself because it was so abnormal and wrong and I was so convinced that I just wasn't being strong enough. And I'm confused, because I know that now it was never my fault, and yet I still feel horribly saddened thinking about it. I felt so guilty for over seven years about something I couldn't control. And now I face the possibility of forever spending my nights hooked up to a CPAP, and all I can think about is how you never read love stories where the man wakes up in the morning expecting a beautiful day and a beautiful girl with cute bedhead and still sleeping, then turns and looks to see her wearing a giant mask around her face. I have never been a romantic or fantasizing girl when it comes to love, but knowing that never being able to fall asleep next to someone or just cuddle without being connected to a CPAP destroys me. The machine itself will forever be a reminder of how dysfunctional I truly am. At the end of the day, I am a freak. A literal freak. There are things about me that are, by definition, wrong. And people can sit there all day and preach that if people can't accept those quirks about me they aren't even worth my time. But if we're being honest, really honest, that's not true. Because I know that everyone has certain stigmas against people - not because they are a bad person, but because that's how they've been sculpted by either society or their parents. Even my mother does it when she sees an overweight person. Without knowing his or her circumstances, whether his or her weight is due to a genuine medical condition or not, she is immediately disgusted. Do I think she is a bad person? No. I think she's accustomed to how the majority of overweight people are at fault of their own and that, as humans, we immediately relate qualities, such as being fat, to past knowledge or experiences. Just like how when we touch fire and get burned, we know that when we see something that is similar, such as feeling the steam coming off of a hot plate, we associate it with the fire and choose not to touch it. It's our nature. And it's barbaric. But it's the truth. And now I will be a victim of it.

if you're going to do a sleep study, bring all the blankets

     ... Because hospital rooms are seriously cold and the blankets they provide could not warm you at all. I was embarrassed at first because I had brought a suitcase full of two of my blankets, my pillow, and a mini fan, whilst everyone else had just their purse and donned their jammies. After seeing the quality of the room, though, I felt bad for everyone else. You would think the hospital would try to make it as comfortable as possible, wouldn't you? At least I did.
     And let me tell you: if you ever go to one, heaven forbid, it might be the most uncomfortable sleep experience you will have. For one, they are watching you sleep and can hear anything you say. Always. Every time I sat up in my bed they would come in not even a minute after and tell me to lay back down. Talk about creepy. I suppose they do so to prevent people from sleep walking or sitting up in their sleep (which I actually do), but still. Try sleeping knowing you are being spied on.
     Secondly, the wires. So. Many. Wires. Attached to your body using adhesives, which are so not fun. I had one on each of my calves, one on my right hip, one in the middle of my chest, one on the left side of my jaw, one on each cheek, and one on my forehead. If having your body wired so you're attached to the bed isn't fun enough, you get a bonus! In your hair! Instead of using adhesives, though, they use glue to attach them to your scalp. I believe I had at least six. So not only is your body captive, but now your head is too. Then there was that weird little tube you see old people wearing that have two spots sticking up to put under your nose. Except mine had a little piece sticking out the bottom, too, to catch if I happened to snore, which poked my mouth. A lot. And I'm pretty sure my nose was rubbed raw. The wires made me feel like I had a new set of long, wire-y hair, because it truly was just that thick. Whenever I moved at night I felt them drag on the bed with me. Turning over isn't much better either when you have to keep untangling yourself.
     Then there's the belts that hold them all in place. I had two wrapped around my head, one on my waist, and one on my chest, all of which are also connected to wires. Plus the heart monitor I had attached to my finger, which includes, you guessed it, yet another wire. I seriously felt like one of those new HD TVs where you can plug twenty different things into them at a time and get a wire-y jumble of misery behind the TV which you just hope you never have to go digging in to find a particular wire.
     So to sum it up, I spent the night in a hospital room on a cot whilst practically rooted to machines and belts, constantly under surveillance, and got to listen to the heart monitor go beep, beep, beep.... At least the nurses were kind. I did like them.
     In the end, it was determined that it took me an hour to fall asleep. I did, however, wake up several times during the night and got a grand total of three hours of sleep in the eight hour period. I never really realized how bad my sleeping was because between all the naps and late nights I wasn't able to keep track, so those numbers were pretty surprising to me. Now I am really curious to see what the doctors have to say.
     Boy, I am tired. It's 8:44am now. They woke me up at 5:40am, so it's definitely going to be a hard day surviving on those three hours I had.

anxiety anxiety

     It is three in the morning, I am trying to go to sleep, and I have layed here for a while now. Thoughts about college and moving away from home and my mom flood my mind every time I let it wander, and each time I freak out. I am actually freaking out right now. Here's to a long night of my brain needlessly torturing me.

codependency

     I was browsing dA when I stumbled upon an artist I used to adore, but I discovered that her gallery is now full of pictures she has drawn of her and her significant other. The art is good, don't get me wrong, but the manner in which it floods her personal page rubs me the wrong way. Maybe I'm jealous. She's been with the guy for four years and they seem happy and head over heels for each other still. But at the same time the little voice in my head that screams out to avoid codependency makes me cringe because all I can think about is, what if they broke up? She's warped her profile and art to include the man like he is part of her, in all of her pictures and journals and even her signature, and I think that's sweet, it really is, and I think it's nice she trusts him so much. And I also can't help but think that if their relationship were to end, her page would suddenly become a very dark place for her. I know it would be for me. It's hard enough when I open my browser and I see pictures of him and I together by accident (which I hid further into my computer just today because it was bothering me so much). I cannot imagine the grief I would feel if suddenly the person who was not only a part of my life but also so heavily involved in my online personal profile was portrayed in all of my pictures and journals walked away. I cannot imagine the feeling of having to remove all traces of him to bring piece of mind, deleting my artwork too avoid seeing these fantasies I drew of the two of us together. And to be honest, what really, really gets me, is that if they were to break up, I think she'd come to the realization that the moment she included him in her online profile so much her "personal" account became "their" account. And I think that if the relationship were to end, so would the account - the one that used to be hers and hers alone but no longer so. Do you see what I mean? Why did she have to decorate her page with him? Why couldn't it just be all about her, like it started out as, and like it should be?
     Codependency really kills me. It's partners in crime with my depression and anxiety, and because I know how much hurt it has caused me, I try to avoid grouping myself with someone at all costs. It's not commitment issues, because I can commit. I just have to constantly tell myself that when I am in a relationship it does not become my life. I am my life. I am an individual. And although our lives may intertwine, they are still separate. Because if you begin to think that way - that he now is your life - all the light in the world will extinguish when he walks away. And then your life ends.

short day

     I sincerely believe that one of the best feelings in the world is when you fall asleep with someone and when you wake up they are still there. I fell asleep cuddling Peanut last night and when I awoke he was next to me sleeping like a baby. He can manage to jump off my bed, but he is much too small to jump back up onto it, so he must have been there with me the entire night. I could not tell you why this makes me feel so nice inside. It just does.

     Unfortunately, I had another dream about him last night which essentially ruined my day. It is ironic because I have reached the point where I rarely think of him unless there is a trigger (which I admit there still are many and I could be much better), but then my dreams come and sucker punch me in the face by giving me these little fantasies just to make me feel awful in the morning when I realize, oh, hey, we're not back together again, that was just a dream, I am still not with him and I am hurting a lot - no thanks to you, brain. My subconsciousness must just be a colossal asshole.

     So I spent my morning (starting at the crack of two in the afternoon) watching an episode of Big Brother with my family, watched silly cartoons while crafting a friendship bracelet design to wrap around my charging cable for an hour, then heading back off to bed... until about seven in the evening when my folks had prepared dinner in which I ate two pieces of garlic bread, just to zombie-walk right back to my safe haven and wake up at eleven.

     I think part of the reason I went back to bed the first time is because my mother's husband of a year came home and I was too ashamed to show my unkempt self around him. But then he saw me at dinner anyways, so not much help did that do.

     Lookie, it's Peanut.~ He loves my blankets.

dumb drivers

     Harvest Moon has sent me into a fury, I am hard to anger, and I feel that I should be blogging more to help my mentality in case writing really does help improve life, so I am going to let off some steam by doing such.
     The days have just been floating past. I try to entertain myself for the time being, hoping that one of my several doctors will come through to me and make me feel better. I mean, what else do I have to hold on to? I am a helpless case on my own, and I know most of my depression is not situational because to loathe the shower, dishes, and laundry is not what a normal person does. Nor does sleeping so much that you practically hibernate or having so little interest in living. This all came before anything situational, anyway. So it has to be the medication I'm missing, right? And of course I'm trying hard for therapy, but my therapist has now cancelled two of our appointments. That's two weeks of not seeing her, and she knows I'm leaving soon, but she took my mental heath on as a responsibility as a doctor, and I feel that she has failed me. I'm sitting here with 3 weeks until I'm shipped across the country, no true will to actually live, and no motivation. I keep begging for someone to help me but all I get is doctors who have me wait 2 weeks for 30-minute appointments, and they're telling this the past six months to someone who has severe anxiety, and I've been waiting and waiting and waiting.... I'm running out of time.... and panic...I won't survive out there like this... and because I can't motivate myself, I'll fail all my classes and nuke my GPA my freshman year, and my parents will be so distraught, and I'll end up right back home....How is this all helping again?
     At least I have my old therapist, Melissa, now. When my mum spoke to her and looked at the numbers she realized we'd end up paying the same amount having her than we would with the co-pays I'm currently paying out of pocket for the others. I don't doubt that she's lying at least a little because she knows how much I worry about money, but I figure I shouldn't pry to give myself a little comfort. $90 for appointments and not accepting insurance is just absurd.. but she's the only person who's managed to really come through to me, and she already knows my background, plus she can see me twice a week if I schedule everything right. My mum came with me to my appointment today and she was really impressed and said that she felt Melissa was actually getting somewhere. She immediately spoke about hooking me up with doctors out in my college area, whereas my other therapist spent one of our two sessions discussing the method of one of the behavior therapies like reading it out of a text book. So.. maybe a little hope here.
     I've been a bit of a recluse lately. I go through these phases where I just don't want to talk to anybody, and I won't reply to text messages or talk to the people I normally talk to anymore. I don't know if that's unhealthy or not. I know I feel guilty because the person on the other side probably feels upset or neglected. But is that normal or okay? Or bad? Of course this doesn't include you, Wisp. I don't play HI anymore, I just log on daily to try and catch you online so I can talk to you. Weird that you're the exception.
     I beat Harvest Moon: Magical Melody today anyway, so now everything I do is just extra without much purpose. I could get married and have a kid or something, maybe save up and buy all the properties just to make them look pretty. But there's only so much interest a game without a plot can hold for me. I ordered one of the newer games in the series so hopefully that arrives soon so I can distract myself enough to appear a zombie. Distraction is good.
     Oh, when we were driving back from my therapy session today, a car without a bumper moved from the slow lane to cut us off in the middle lane for no reason. He had no cars to pass and it was very abrupt. Mum noted that she saw a baby in the backseat, then when we passed him I witnessed him texting on his phone. A few minutes later we somehow find him again, but this time he's smoking a cigarette... with the baby in the back seat. Mum nearly blew a gasket.
     Nothing else to report for now. NiP signing out.

computer nonsense for wisp

     I thought I might share some of my good finds with you for Blondie.

•  Use Google Chrome for a browser. It's the fastest there is, no questions asked, toolbar-less, and you can get user-created add-ons. Plus it has it's own built-in PDF file reader so you don't have to download Adobe Reader. I hate Adobe Reader.

       - Get the AdBlock add-on. It puts a little icon in the top right corner of your browser that tells you how many ads it is currently blocking on said page (I've reached up to hundreds on Facebook by just idling for a minute - and watch it go up, up, up...).  It also keeps track of how many ads it has blocked total (I'm at 13,616 as of this moment), and gives you the ability to disable AdBlock on certain websites (One of the sites I use to download mods for the Sims always asks me to disable it to help pay for the server, so that's a cool option).
     - I also use Avast's virus add-on for extra protection. It gives site ratings which are very useful for when you're googling something, because it'll tell you if it's an un-trusted website before you click on the link.
     - I love Google Mail Checker because it has a tiny icon on the top right of the browser, like AdBlock, which displays how many unread e-mails you have and provides a quick one click link.
     - Speed Dial is an add-on that is just like speed dials on phones. When you open a new browser in chrome, the top ten websites that you have assigned numbers to appear, allowing you one click access to it. I have HI on it so I never have to type in the URL. Just click. I'm lazy, though.
     - Eye Dropper is just like the tool on Photoshop. You click on the icon, then click anywhere on the webpage you're viewing and it returns the color for you. This might be really useful when you're doing GUI for HTML/CSS and are playing with colors which is why I mention it.

• This is the VPN I told you I was using: https://www.privateinternetaccess.com/
• The article I read when determining what VPN to use: http://torrentfreak.com/which-vpn-services-take-your-anonymity-seriously-2014-edition-140315/
• If you're wanting to torrent, I use BitTorrent, but uTorrent is popular also
• You can download or stream almost any tv show from eztv.it
• http://keepvid.com/ lets you download a video or audio file of any YouTube video
• You can find a free portable version of Photoshop CS5 here: http://portableappz.blogspot.com/2011/04/photoshop-cs5-extended-121-multilingual.html
• VideoLAN (VLC) is an amazing media player that loads everything quick and easy, very much unlike Windows Media Player in my experience. My school used it, too. Link: http://www.videolan.org/vlc/download-windows.html
• 7-zip is a free compressor that is faster than WinZip and doesn't bring up annoying messages about your trial expiring. http://www.7-zip.org/
• I use Razer Game Booster on my computer at all times because it makes not only games but pretty much everything run significantly faster (although the games part is certainly nice, I love seeing my FPS rocket). It finds all the useless programs running in the background of your computer and temporarily turns them off for however long in order to speed things up. It'll list said programs so you can personally check and uncheck which programs you want it to close.
• Avast has never failed me as an ad-blocker, ever. Plus it's free.
• I heard this site is really awesome for organizing purposes, but I haven't checked it out yet personally because I don't really have anything to organize at the moment: https://evernote.com/
• Update several programs at once: https://ninite.com/
• Pandora is awesome if you want to find new music that is very related to artists you like.
• Spotify is also pretty neat. You enter in your mood and it creates a playlist which correlates.
• http://plug.dj/ is a place where you can create your own playlist consisting of YouTube music videos, then, if you get friends to use it too, you take turns playing the songs you've chosen. When your song is playing you are dubbed the DJ and the people in the room with you have the option to "Woot!" your song which gives you points that lets you unlock cute little DJ avatars. It's pretty awesome if you get a good group of people together.
• http://www.furry-paws.com/ is the dog version of Hworse.
• http://www.mweor.com/ is the cat version.
• http://www.misticpets.com/ is a small community virtual pet site with absolutely beautiful artists working behind it. The mods are very friendly, as are the users. It's a little wonky due to the programmers not being top-notch, highly paid professionals, but still awesome.
• http://www.rescreatu.com/ is like a modern Subeta. It was actually one of the former mods from this website who created Misticpets. I haven't played it in many years, but one of my old friends is one of the artists who draws the pets.

     Hopefully you find something neat that you like. :3

when sleepless nights become bitter oblivion

     I have a relatively new (as in made within the past few months) google account that I seem to no longer have access to. Of course there is always the theory that I could have forgotten my password, but I am fairly certain I used one of my generic ones, which only fuels my suspicion that my lovely stalker got a hold of it. Which sucks because I created that account for a reason; to anonymously e-mail someone I did not trust about a topic I did not want anyone else reading. And of all people to read those e-mails, he would be the worst. He needs more information to blackmail me with like I need another bullet in my head. And I am so, so tired of him constantly reappearing in my life just to drop bombshells and claim that he is "looking out for me". The last time he came around he took a screenshot of a conversation on Skype I had with a guy I was playing Minecraft with - COMPLETELY out of context - and sent it to him anonymously whilst our relationship was progressing, causing him to call me in blinding fury asking who my friend was. It turned out he was logging into my Skype account and watching my conversations quite literally as I was having them (Skype allows you to log in from multiple locations at once). We were positive it was my stalker when he received a message saying that I was moving on to other men because he was neglecting me. Just to give you a little insight as to how batshit crazy this guy is.

     I know it must be confusing to read what I say when I use pronouns, but he is the one who I cannot name  - and I am not referring to Voldemort. Consider it a "trigger". Using his name would cause me to feel sour which would provoke the ultimate mental down-hill snowball effect. Kind of like the music I can no longer listen to or the items I have buried deep within my wardrobe to avoid accidentally seeing. For some reason this phenomenon brings the song Art of War by Anberlin to my mind, particularly where it says, "There are songs I'll never write because of you walking out of my life".

     And I had a dream about him last night where we were awkwardly sitting in one of those vans with three rows of seats and he, being in the row behind me, sneaked his hand up into mine as if to say, "Everything is okay. I still love you, and I always will, and we're going to be together again."

     Of course a dream  like such only made me think of all the reasons that could never be true whilst in the shower today. It is like my subconscious treated me with a beautiful fantasy only for my conscious mind to come forth and list every flaw in it, like a non-fiction critic reading a book with enough plot holes to categorize it alongside a Dr. Seuss novella.

     I regret that my blogs cannot be cheerful and positive like Wisp's. Not cheerful and positive, I suppose, but just anything that is not discussing how miserable I am. It makes me feel pretty pathetic, which is funny because earlier today my mother said that she thinks I am getting better.

     So to lighten this up a little, I'll say that I did shower and take my medicine today. Yesterday I learned how to make hamburgers on a George Foreman my mother picked up at a garage sale for me to take to college. Peanut has decided to adopt squeaking as a form of communication. I bought a case of Pepsi. And I'm enjoying myself on Harvest Moon: Magical Melody, where I now have 4 chickens (Chester, Sanders, Nugget, and Church), 2 calves (Lolita and Estella), one lamb (Guinevere), and a foal that just grew up named Khaleesi. I can't wait to learn how to ride Khaleesi tomorrow and frolic all about the village. I wish the horses could be different colors, though, and not all just brown. Rawr.

'cause now we say goodnight from our own separate sides, like brothers on a hotel bed

     I never watch Family Guy anymore since we cancelled our cable around about 5 years ago, but tonight my brother decided to watch it on Netflix whilst I was also in the living room. The episode was called Call Girl - I could not name the season or number to reference. The story was about Louis being approached by a man who thought her voice was amazing and thus offered her a job as a "voice woman" of some sort (I promise there is a point to me telling this, Wisp, although it might be awkward for you to read). She of course assumed the job was for narrating commercials, but upon arrival realized that she was recruited to work for a Sex Hotline; a job she reluctantly accepted when offered 2 grand a week to do so. Because of her new occupation she loses interest in certain activities with her husband, driving him to call the Hotline himself and, coincidentally, his wife is the one who answers. None the wiser, he phones frequently and speaks about silly things (not sexual) and tells her how her voice allures him so greatly, as if he really clicks with her naturally. He then asks to meet her in person and Louis, furious that Peter would be willing to cheat on her, agrees. She wears a wig, Peter "cheats" with her, she removes the wig, then goes ballistic on him. In response, the husband asserts that he never "technically" cheated, and goes on to explain how he felt when speaking to her on the phone and how it filled a part of their relationship that had gone missing.
     This episode really struck me in a bittersweet way. Sweet because I am very much familiar with the feeling of knowing someone who I have always felt was naturally made for me despite, well, anything. Bitter because said person walked away (Whoever says it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all is full of shit. You cannot be emotionally punched into oblivion by a feeling you have never experienced.). It has always been a curious thing to me. We met online, so of course you would think meeting in person would have been very awkward and nerve wracking. And I suppose it was for the first few hours; I was curled up in a chair in the corner of the hotel room whilst he relaxed on the bed, and when he drove us downtown I was practically hugging the passenger door. But he slowly coaxed me out of it just by being him. His voice, mannerisms, and teasing were all the same; the only new factor was having him in person. So I relaxed.. enough so that he kissed me the first night and it was perfectly okay. Better than okay. And I snuggled up to him and fell asleep as if we had known the feel of each other's body, smell, and pattern of breathing the entire time. It was just so.. easy. Unbelievably easy. And natural. The same thing happened when I saw him again this June. Even though we had not seen each other in person for over a year, I was found in his arms less than two hours after he picked me up from my hotel.
     It kills me because I know that feeling of us being made for each other only makes things so much worse. I have always told myself that there is no such thing, and that there is better out there, and I have tried to convince myself that the feeling was merely a passing lie. But I just don't know. If you find the puzzle piece that fits exactly next to the one you have, but then your dog eats it, how are you supposed to deal with that?

all those arrows you threw, you threw them away

     You know those times when you are going about your day normally when all of a sudden you remember a dream you had the previous night, almost as if the memory did not exist until something you saw or heard or thought triggered it from the very back of your mind? I was unfortunate enough to experience that feeling regarding a dream I had of him last night, and the impact of it returning to my consciousness, which felt like a horrible sort of internal collision, had me catch my breath for a second. I absolutely loathe being reminded of him, and having remembered a dream of him was so much worse compared to giving him a simple glimpse of thought when you consider that dreams can feel so real. As is the emotions they are capable of conjuring.
     My close friend Wisp was curious about what happened in this dream (or nightmare), and furthermore I feel that writing about it will allow a little more reflection for myself despite how much I want to bury this dream along with the thoughts and feelings associated with it in a deep, deep hole to never be thought of again. Thus I reveal.
     The dream is most likely difficult to understand for those who have not played the game that him and I used to play together. It was actually on said game that we met. He was a leader of a clan which was essentially a group of whomever applied to join to meet new people when they were bored, then speak collectively in one chat; sort of like a chat room, but regulated by those he chose to moderate it. It did not really have much purpose; it was just a group of random people who were tired of playing the game alone and wanted a sense of community. It was here in his clan that I met him and also fell for him. However I refuse to tell the tale of our beginning too much in order to avoid terrible feelings which I know will turn into even more terrible thoughts, so all else you need to know is that we both stopped playing this game about a year ago.
     In my dream, I logged back onto that game just to see if he had returned to it after we broke up for whatever mindless reasoning I had come up with. And in my dream, he had. I found the new clan he created and discovered that there were several members whom he had collected that were online chatting. I spent a lot of time contemplating what I wanted to do now that I had regrettably found this horrible news, and I felt so incredibly bitter that he was visibly continuing life without me. The bitterness made me lash out at him indirectly; in the chat room I requested that they tell him Nothing in Particular said hello and that she still meant everything she had said. I do not know exactly what I said to which I was referring to (my best guess would be when we were on the phone and I told him that I could never be with someone who always flaked out). Right when I pressed enter, he logged in and saw my message, kicked me out of his clan immediately, and followed the gesture with a private message in which he pretty much verbally throttled me.
     I know this dream is not an interesting story containing entertaining events, but it still felt like a knife in the chest when it came back to me. I suppose it is because I fear him moving on and eventually resenting me.
     Oh, how deeply I am in love. And how deeply it hurts.

revolution is not easy with a civil war on the inside

     My mother came into my room claiming that a nearby McDonalds was having open interviews on Tuesday and insisted that I go. Her expectations of me only make me feel worse. How am I supposed to regularly go to a place for several hours a day and do meaningless tasks for a meaningless purpose when I cannot even convince myself get out of bed anymore? To shower? To eat? Can't she see how hard I am already trying to just to stay alive? These normal things that normal people do - going to work, eating, running errands, being with friends and family - are so pointless to me when I am facing such an internal battle for meaningful purpose. I wish she would stop opening my bedroom doors and drawing my curtains. I wish she would stop trying to force happiness and light into me and assuming that it is going to make me happy. It is not my exposure to light and other people which will make me feel better, but a change of thinking and perception in my own head. That lies all on me, not her. You can give someone food when they are hungry, shelter when they are homeless, or knowledge when they are ignorant. But you cannot give someone the desire to live and function, for that is all a learning process alone and within.

     Stop expecting so much of me, please. It only makes me feel that much more miserable when I know I cannot do it and reminds me of how messed up and dysfunctional I am.

   

     Title credited to Anberlin.

the beginning in the middle

     It's funny how easily priorities change when something or someone in your life vanishes. Not in an amusing way, but in a harsh and unforgiving kind of 'funny'. See - I have always been a frugal person; a quality that I gained from my mother (which she regrets having given). I deny her offers of new clothing, expensive food, or fancy decor; things I don't need; money that I know can go to a better cause. Even in the video games I play I am notorious for hoarding money in copious amounts. This quality of mine was amplified during the time I was with him. My mind kicked into a sort of behemoth frugality mode in which I refused to spend a single penny unless it was absolutely necessary. I wanted to save everything I could to move out there with him, go to college, and to make something of myself. And I think the difference was that he gave me aspirations and dreams for myself that I never had before. I never had a plan; never really wanted anything in particular. I only lived because, well, it was a lot easier than going out of my way to die. But then he walked into my dark little blasé corner of nothingness with a torch, touched my heart, took my hand, and led me outside my desolate hidey-hole into a world full of dreams and aspirations and opportunities. If only I could see the world's light without his torch there to show me. If only he had not continued on without me, but instead took me with him. If only I could experience what it feels like to truly want something out of life without him there to make me feel it. Because now, I want nothing save the unattainable. I want him.

     Now that the beautiful scene in my mind has deteriorated with his absence, my desire to hoard as much money as I can has faded. I want to spend my savings on whatever will provide me with instant gratification whether it be food or games or soda. Yesterday I purchased two coloring books and three threads of embroidery floss amounting to over $13. Today I treated myself to fast food resulting in the loss of another $7. Part of me is terrified of this change in my attitude because it is just another sign that I am helpless without him. The other part of me really wants a Chocolate Fudge Brownie Milkshake from Steak N' Shake.

     I told my therapist that I would wake up at 10:00 and shower at least four days this week. It is now 6:00 in the morning, I have not slept yet, and the only shower I have taken thus far was Thursday. One step forward, thirty steps back.