my world turned upside down

So after the break in, I had to start getting my life back in order. You don’t realize how much stuff is in one thing until you lose it. I lost my driver’s license, credit cards, check book, office key with my paycheck stubs in my purse and my journal, talk about feeling violated! I mean someone being in your apartment is violation enough but the thought of someone getting a hold of my journal, my inner most personal thoughts! Something you don’t let anyone read at all! And now it’s somewhere out there floating around for people to read. Talk about feeling extremely violated and vulnerable and naked. Can I please get my journal back? Everything else is replaceable, just give me my journal back!

I was driving around with no license for a few days. Well I had an expired driver’s license but what good does that do me? I went to the DMV to get a temporary license after a few days only because my coworkers told me to. Then there was the hassle of opening a bank account so that I could have access to my money. Mind you I had no debit or credit cards. I only had my passport and ssn card as proof of ID. I take it down to the bank and they tell me that I can’t open an account without a second form of ID. What other form of ID do you need? They said I needed a credit card from another bank. I’m like, I don’t have anything! Everything was stolen! So no new bank account. I had to wait several days for one of my replacement credit cards to come in the mail so that I could go back down and try to open an account again. Oye!

In the middle of all this, I’m scrambling to contact my credit card companies that got charged by the person who stole my stuff. I have to get the store, store number, amount, time, and location or as much information that I can get to provide to the officer to try and track down this person. Everyday during the week, throughout the day, my lunch hour, I was on the phone with credit card companies getting all this information. Exhausting! I haven’t even thought about the security of my own home. So much stuff to think of, I just want to fall apart. I don’t know how I’ve kept up with all this stuff.

I finally get my new credit cards in the mail. I head down to the bank, got my new account. Next I have to go through all my bills and change the draft accounts, the automatic transactions and all that stuff. You know what I mean. It takes me two hours to go through each and every single one. I think I got all of them. You don’t realize how much activity goes through your bank accounts because everything is so automated these days. Oh yeah so I still have to go back to the bank to change my ID  because I opened it with my passport and not my driver’s license. Round and round I go.

Week two. It’s finally dying down a bit. I can’t believe all that happened in one week! It felt like a lifetime! I still have to ask my building manager if they will change my windows to the newer modern ones. I have to get a camera system and maybe security in my apartment. People are asking me if I’m moving and I say no. I’m not in any position to move right now. Yes I’m still paranoid that I would come home and my front window is broken and my place is ransacked. I still wake up in the middle of the night and check if my front door is unlocked. But it’s only been two weeks. All that will go away once I get the security system in place and the anxiety wears down. I don’t leave the windows open anymore. Even though it gets stuffy in the apartment on some days. I just open them when I’m home. I always lock the door behind me even when I’m doing laundry or taking Mochi out in the courtyard.

This really has been a big eye opener as to how I live my life. I used to be so nonchalant about everything, leaving doors unlocked and windows opened all the time and now that has changed. I live on the first floor. I’m an easy target. I’m the first apartment you see when you come through the entry gate. No more random deliveries to my apartment.

It’s still a big blessing that no one was hurt. It was a good thing Mochi didn’t bark and wake me up to someone in my apartment. Maybe this was a warning to say that I’m too easy going with my living situation. It could have been worse! A lot worse! My world was turned upside down for a bit, but it’s getting back to normal and it’s making me change the way I live.

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relationship status

So I’ve dated quite a few guys here and there and obviously none of them have worked out. Why? Because I ended things for a number of reasons, not going to list all of them, I probably wrote about a few of them already. Going through all these short term relationships, if that is what you call them, I realize that I don’t want a relationship. This should come as no surprise because I talk about it with my therapist enough times already. I realize that all that I’m looking for is someone to hang out with, someone to do things with, maybe a travel buddy. I don’t want the commitment of a relationship. I like my independence way too much. I know some people have said that that shouldn’t matter in a relationship, but in some instances, you kinda loose a bit of it in said relationship. I was watching “How to be Single” over the weekend and she said something that I think I have always thought about because I’ve been single for some time now…

goldfish jumping - improvement and career concept

“I’ve been thinking that the time we have to be single, is really the time we have to get good at being alone. But, how good at being alone do we really want to be? Isn’t there a danger that you’ll get so good at being single, so set in your ways, that you’ll miss out on the chance to be with somebody great?”

I’ve gotten really good at being single. I do things on my own so much that I forget to invite people along. I remember asking my mom why she was dating and she threw the question right back at me and it got me thinking… why am I dating? I know I said it that I was lonely and it goes back to just having someone to do things with, a companion. Dating just happened to get thrown in the mix just cause my doctor insisted that I get a move on with my love life. Well now, I’ve decided, I just can’t seem to find the right guy and I’m way too picky, but who isn’t? I give up. I’m done dating. I’m done looking for love. If love is out there for me, if it’s in the cards for me, then it will come find me. At that point, all my conditions, reservations, pickiness, and whatever other things that hold me back from any relationship should go away, right? So universe, the ball is in your court.

grand_universe_by_antifan_real1

the year that I died

Things were already falling apart. I couldn’t tell you when it began, I just remember my therapist telling me at some point that I needed to see a psychiatrist. Why, because everything that I had buried so deep inside and chose to forget and other things that I didn’t know were there started pouring out of me and I couldn’t hold it together anymore. For a long time I refused to see a psychiatrist, I refused medication, I convinced myself that I was fine and that I could handle anything. Boy was I completely wrong. This was the second time it was happening but this time was a lot worse than the first.

The first time this happened, I remember in 2012, I sought out professional help because the things that I had buried deep inside and had chosen to forget had started to surface and I didn’t know what to do about it. I found a therapist and we started working through my issues. I had a boyfriend at the time. He knew what I was dealing with and I think we became closer because the more he knew, the more I felt comfortable around him. My therapist at that time suggested that I see a psychiatrist and get on meds to help with the depression. I refused for a while. Then I said I’d give it a try. Not too long after, I ended up in the ER. I don’t know if it was because of the meds or just a really bad anxiety attack. I stopped the meds and I stopped going to the psychiatrist. At some point I thought things were getting better and I was healed, so I stopped therapy and now we end up to the beginning of this blog.

Fast forward a couple years later, obviously I found a new therapist because I was really really really depressed. No one had to tell me. I don’t remember when I started seeing her but since the beginning she had been suggesting meds. I remember complaining to my therapist saying that I would be in a perfectly good mood and be with good company and all of a sudden a wave of depression would hit me. So that’s what clinical depression is. I still refused the meds. My depression was getting worse, things from my past were resurfacing and there was no stopping them. At some point the suicidal thoughts became apparent. They’ve been there before but the urge was a lot stronger now.

Things just got worse from that point on. I started hearing voices and seeing things, seeing ghosts. I felt like someone was following me. I was always on edge. The suicidal urges were constantly knocking on my door. I’d have episodes where I would be talking to someone in person and the voices in my head would start to talk and say that they would harm the person that was with me. I was scared for the other person’s safety and I would cry and cry and try to run away but that person would tell me that there is no one there. I would continue to argue with them telling them to leave, but they never did. In the end, they calmed me down and I would snap back into reality. I had several episodes of that. I remember when I felt like the voices in my head were plotting against me, plotting my death. I remember telling my friend that I wouldn’t make it to my next birthday that year. I remember saying that many times. I remember having a dream where I was dead. I felt like I was already dead. The voices in my head told me to give all my account information to someone. They told me to write goodbye letters to certain people. They would tell me exactly how it would happen, the only thing left is for me to do it. One day I remember them saying, you know where the xacto knife is. I told my friend I wasn’t going to be at church that night. I went home. I starred at where my xacto knife was. I sat there for a while. I eventually got up and ran to my room crying and digging my fingers into the palms of my hands so that they wouldn’t do anything. My pastor and friend found me and took me to my pastor’s house that evening. That was only one incident. I didn’t tell my therapist about that.

In the middle of all this, I gave into my therapists’ wishes and started looking for a psychiatrist. I didn’t realize how hard it was to find one until I started looking. Some said they were not taking any new patients. Some said I wasn’t sick enough. Some asked why my family wasn’t driving me to my appointments? One said they couldn’t treat me and didn’t tell me why. Looking for a psychiatrist and the constant rejection drove my suicidal urges into overdrive. Being told that you are not sick enough according to text book? Just because I still have a job and live on my own, I’m not sick enough?!? I’m on the verge of ending my own life! Is that not sick enough for you?!?

Eventually I found a psychiatrist that would treat me. Eventually I told my family what was going on with me. It wasn’t until September 2016 that I was officially diagnosed with Schizoaffective Disorder and started treatment. It’s been two years and many changes in medication since then. I think my psychiatrist has finally found what they call the “cocktail” of medication so that I could function normally. It’s been working well the past few months, I hope it keeps going and not have to change again. Things have gotten a lot better. I don’t have hallucinations anymore. I don’t see things any more. I don’t hear voices anymore. I’ve fought to stay alive for this long and now am making plans for the future. I went through hell and back and now I get to live my life to it’s full potential. I’m alive and well and am really glad that the meds are working. All I can do now is look towards the future.

excited!

So I got a new toy to play with… well not really. I’ve had my macbook for a couple of years now and I installed Light Room on it so that I could edit my pictures. There’s not a lot of hard drive space on my mac so I couldn’t load all the pictures that I wanted to so that I could edit them. I finally bought an external drive to store all my pictures in, transferred all the pictures and files from my old PC formatted hard drive onto the new hard drive, and viola, freed up some room on my mac! Oh, side note, my other external drive was formatted for a PC so I couldn’t access my files from my mac.

A good deep sigh… I can finally, really put some time and effort into my photography and learn how to edit my pictures. Long awaited, excited to get home and work on stuff feeling. Woohoo! Now to brush up on my editing and photography skills, the little bit that I have at least. HAHA But to learn more! OH the possibilities!!! 12792113_10209165188232531_7347170844335749195_o

i beat you to it

I meet a guy. We go out on a few dates, talk/text and obviously like each other. Then things get start to get rocky on my end, personal stuff, I have another episode. I end up leaving the guy in the dark because I don’t want to talk about it. In a day or two I say goodbye to the person and send them on their way because I want to be fair to them. I don’t want to leave them hanging and feel helpless because I won’t let them into my mess. And we’re back to shutting people out. Damn, I’m getting really good at this!

First of all, I want to be fair to them. I don’t know how long my episode(s) will last and each time it’s different. They will just be left in the dark because I don’t want to talk about it, especially because I barely know them. They will end up feeling helpless because they want to help but don’t know how. Not their fault. At the same time, I’m dealing with this episode and it’s consuming me and the last thing I want to have to worry about is entertaining this guy every now and then so he knows that I’m alive. The last thing you want to worry about when you’re depressed is another person. I don’t mean to be cold, but it’s true.

Second, I don’t want to have to explain myself for anything that happens. Why this or why that? Things that are out of my control. I don’t want to have to explain for you to understand. I don’t want to have to repeat what I’ve told others already… It’s exhausting just hearing about it and I don’t want to bore you or make you worry. I barely know you.

Third, I think that I am too much to handle. I come with a lot of baggage. I’m a huge complicated mess. I’m a lot to deal with. A person can say that they can handle it right now, but what about later down the road? Years later? How will you feel then? I don’t want to be a burden to anyone and I certainly don’t want them to resent me for what I end up putting them through because of my situation. So I beat them to the punch, I leave before any harm can be done. I leave before I could cause them any pain. I leave before they could cause me any pain.

It will be hard for any guy to come into my life because of this. You would have to be really really special to get past my walls. For me to talk to you about what I go through in my darkest moments will be your ticket in. Good Luck! and good luck to me if I ever find that guy that I will actually let into my life.

I’m just a little “Unwell”

I was driving home today and heard the song “Unwell” by Rob Thomas. It got me thinking about how much it reflects on how I feel sometimes. I have this thing, Schizoaffective Disorder, that I’ve kinda talked about on here but have a hard time talking about in person. This song kinda helps give me a voice in this saying that I have this thing… “but I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell…” People tell me, “you don’t seem like it.” Well, “I know right now you can’t tell, but stay a while and maybe then you’ll see a different side of me. I’m not crazy, I’m just a little impaired… but soon enough you’re gonna think of me and how I used to be, me.” I know it’s hard for people to listen to what I have to say sometimes because I know how scary it is. To hear the things that I have to say, from someone you love, something so heartbreaking that you wouldn’t believe that I would say those things. I’m still me, I just have this other side to me. I know it’s a little scary, but if you stay a while and maybe you’ll see that it’s not as bad as it may seem. And maybe if I let you stay a while, then maybe I’ll see a different side of you and you may not be as bad as I think it may seem.

In the word of Rob Thomas’ song “Unwell”

But I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell
I know right now you can’t tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you’ll see
A different side of me
I’m not crazy, I’m just a little impaired
I know right now you don’t care
But soon enough you’re gonna think of me
And how I used to be, me

vacation battle scars!

So I just got back from my Hawaii vacation almost a week ago. I got away with one injury. I don’t know if you would call it major or minor, or if it would actually be called an injury. Anyway, how it happened… It was the last day of our vacation. My mom and I went on a kayak and snorkeling tour. We were out in the middle of the ocean, miles and miles away from the shore and at least 20 feet deep to the ocean floor, I think. Sorry I don’t have pictures of any cool fishies. I came up for air to fix my snorkel gear and was just swimming around and all of a sudden I felt a sharp pain on my right rib, twice. I screamed out loud because it hurt that bad. I don’t exactly know what I did, maybe twisted the wrong way? Then I went back to swimming as if nothing happened. We finished our tour and I dropped my mom off back at our condo.

Then I went on a two and a half hour drive to the southern most tip of the island called South Point. I was about to go cliff jumping into the ocean but, there was no way back up so I didn’t. To be honest, I was a bit scared to jump off a 40′ cliff, not to mention the strong current waiting for me at the bottom along with jagged rocks, but the views were incredible.

After that I went and hiked a what seemed to be a never ending two and a half miles of dirt road to the famous green sand beach. That was not an easy hike! I went through two water bottles! There was the option of their shuttles going to and from the beach but I decided to tough it out. It was definitely worth it, minus the feeling of, am I lost? a couple of times. HAHA Went down to the beach, played in the sand for about twenty minutes then hiked back up to the top. I decided to take the shuttle back to the beginning since I drank all the water that I had taken with me and I didn’t want to get lost going back. And it was only $10. I gotta tell ya, that ride back was like being on a roller coaster with no restraints! I was on an ATV with no seat belt. Felt every bump, dip, rock, and whatever came in front of this vehicle while only holding on to one bar and trying to keep my balance and not crash into the other passengers on the back of this pickup truck. That went on for a good twenty to thirty minutes. We eventually made it back to the beginning of the trail, talk about a rough ride! Then I drove home.

So between the kayak and snorkeling, swimming in the ocean and then hiking two and a half miles and the makeshift ATV with no restraints, I somehow ended up with bruised ribs, if that’s what you call it. The next morning I was in sooo much pain. It hurt to move whichever way no matter what I did. I don’t know how, I just know that the right side of my ribs hurt like hell and were sore to the touch. It got worse the more I moved. Of course the next day we were headed home. The days that followed seemed like the pain got worse. On Wednesday, it felt like I was getting better. I could move around more freely. There was still some pain but it was tolerable. So of course I didn’t mind it and forgot that there was any pain and of course I would over exert myself with lifting heavy things not thinking about the consequences. Today, it hurts again. I can still move but not as much as yesterday. People tell me to take it easy and I’m like, what is that? I’m getting better, it’ll be fine. Of course I’ll pay for it later. HAHA I never learn.

So I guess in the end, I had a great trip. Nothing like a battle scar to tell you that you had a great vacation and enjoyed every minute of it! Let’s do that again! Maybe without the injury this time? But wait, that’s the indication of a great trip! HAHA just kidding. Or not! You pick.