It’s been a life-changing while…

Welcome to life on meds that work!!!

I am so beyond excited and thankful to be on medicine that is allowing my brain to function. I knew that the anxiety-driven brain I had been living with for 27 years was NOT up to par. I just thought I was dumb, broken, a mess that could not be fixed.

That belief and experience has caused me sooo much suffering and depression and more anxiety about not being good enough, and losing jobs because of it, definitely feeling inadequate at every job.

Now, I. CAN. THINK.

It is such an amazing revelation that I want to shout it from the mountaintops. I’m not dumb, I’m not broken or damaged beyond repair. I just needed the right combination of medicine that was prescribed to me by a doctor to help resolve so much of that. That was taboo and an unpopular and questioned opinion in a certain group in the 12 step group I am apart of. That held me and my life back for years. Of course, my non-belief in myself is what made their pressure a reality I could not say no to. I will take on what is mine.

And I will grieve what is mine.

A life that for years simply did not have to be as hard and torturous as it was. It was this shield of embarrassment that I held around me like a cloak that could not be taken off. It would only grow stronger in new and unfamiliar situations. So many friends was impossible. Keeping them was even harder. And it was even with my own family that I could not feel like myself or even enjoy their company for years. I was too busy comparing myself with everyone and everything.

Now, of course the medication did not do all the work. I have been striving for over 6 years to have more belief in myself and love and tolerance toward others. But I was getting almost nowhere before starting a regimen from a doctor that works with my brain chemistry. It was like putting in what felt like 8,000 pounds of effort and getting a sliver of hope and change.

And I am SO thankful I trudged on.

There was always that tiny little voice in my heart and gut saying, “What if it gets better tomorrow?” My mind would scream it wouldn’t and list all the reasons why. But I could not shake that tiny speck of hope, because, what it if was right?

Half the time, I didn’t even have that voice, I was just too scared to kill myself. But whatever the reason, I want to share this to let everyone know, it will get better, for you too.

Ten things I don’t hate about PTSD either.

Fuck. After Brian employed Siobhan to find 10 good things about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, she told me about it, and then employed me to do the same.

While she had put time, thought and effort into coming up with her list, I am unable to do that.

My PTSD has me always in the present.

So when people are getting ready to leave a place, I can’t think that I should start my car with the remote I finally have for it to warm it up because I’m too focused on if we are going to hug goodbye and that I have to be ready for it if we are, because I have to make sure you like me and I’m doing this socializing thing correctly.
That literally just happened to me.

Like in my last post, I said it is really hard for me to think ahead because I’m so caught up in that silly old fight or flight nonsense every waking moment of the day. It’s also difficult for me to think back to anything (say, like thinking about Siobhan asking me to think of ways PTSD is good). I wouldn’t dream that was possible, until I read her post.

So, I’m giving it a shot. Here goes:

1. I am always present for my kitties. I know exactly how they are feeling (and if they are about to strike, like my older cat constantly does), and how many dots are on their nose at all times.
2. I know what is wrong with me at all times. This one’s handy for building up my ability to get my needs met. I always know when I am uncomfortable and should ask for something to be different. Whether I do or not is completely up to me.
3. I always know that there is not a person hiding in my backseat. I check pretty much every time I get in my vehicle. You know, whenever someone could be hiding back there.
4. I have a severe empathy for other people. I know what it feels like to be broken, to be lost, to be scared and to feel alone. I can make that space for you and tell you I understand.
5. I am a caretaker to the hurt. I am the friend that will support you, that will cheer you up when you are sad, mad, upset, whatever. I am always aware of every little change in energy, and now, I know that that energy is not always being sent my way, and I can help people out of it.
6. I have been a survivor for a really long time. I can show you how I got out of that when everything seemed insurmountable and every emotion seemed too hard to feel.
7. I know who to watch out for. I can tell a change in tone in an instant. I know when someone is about to get loud and aggressive. I do not play that shit, and I do not allow my friends to deal with it either.
8. I love the shit out of fun. I went through so many years being depressed and laying in bed watching TV. Now, I will go pretty much anywhere for a good time, and I bring the good time with me. It will not be dull around me. As you can see from our first blog post, #nofilter.
9. I have suffered almost all there is to suffer. I have seen jails, mental institutions and rehabs, and I’ve never been in them. I’ve experienced the loss of both my parents. I have had crippling anxiety and depression and alcoholism and sex addiction and, and, and. My worst circumstances were as a child. There is no stopping me. It is only up from here.
10. I go to great lengths and have big dreams. I have seen the depths of human emotion. I will stop at nothing to see the brightest of them. I will be a traveling editor. Watch me.
11. I even have a bonus one! I go hardcore at my spirituality. I never stop growing, learning about myself and how I can become a better human to myself and the people around me. And this might be the best gift I have ever gotten!

Children suck now.

I adore children, I love (some of them) instantly. I had been a day care teacher for six years. Until I just couldn’t anymore. Because children are dicks now! And watching home movies with my Babci (grandma in Polish) and my older sister tonight just proved that all the more.

My sister was making Easter eggs with my sister when she was one and my Babci dropped an egg in the bowl on accident. No one said a word. My sister and I, simply watching the movie said, “Oh NO!” and were more worried about it than they were in that moment.

We noticed a lot of other situations like this, where the whole bath tub fell to the floor and everyone remained calm and were even laughing about the situation. These days, moms would be in a panic and be riddled with self-doubt about their parenting skills.

And my sister hit the nail on the head. It is because we live with the world, with all it’s calamities and crises, at the snap of a finger.

My Babci said they didn’t have words like “hyper,” “anxious,” or “stressed” back then. They just weren’t.

So parents have anxieties and they want to give their kids everything. Kids are entitled, and they are going too quickly. They are growing up wayy too fast. Why does your toddler need to know how to use your smart phone? Back in my day, we just had silly little airplanes that you pulled and the propeller moved. That was some hot shit right there.

Back in my day, we got milk drunk and hung out on plastic play houses.

Back in my day, we washed cars and went to church.

Back in my day, we had stupid outfits and wore huge ass glasses.

Children now have no patience, no awareness of how grand a bubble can be after the age of two. Life is fast-paced, parents are overworked and over stressed. Children are hyper and parents are anxious.

Is technology really helping us, or is it making us sick? Our quality of life is suffering because everything is too easy now. And I know this is nothing original, but I just had to share these brilliant 90s pictures with you, and to maybe get someone to see that nature and a box is all you need to make your kid happy. And even before that, what they need is to be taught to RESPECT people.

Back in my day, we would never DREAM of hitting an elder. They were our caretakers, they were our protectors, they were not our friends or our gossip buddies.
They did not owe us anything, but gave us everything we needed.
And while I did not have the most stable home life, coming from seeing and experiencing domestic violence growing up because of my father’s mental illness, I still envy that time over this, at times.

Now, I have all the freedom in the world to be me because I don’t have my dictator father looking over my shoulder, but I do not have the freedom to believe I can make it in this world as an editor. I have two college degrees and I am jobless.
Everyone wants the best, the fastest, the brightest.

There is no room for mediocre in this world anymore.

But the trouble is, not everyone can be Sally Ride (the first American woman in space) or Jordan Belfort (fast-talking, slimey business man).

I do not have the brains of a scientist. I do not have the bravery of a Wall-Street “accountant.” I have PTSD. I am lucky if I have a reply to “good morning” to my downstairs neighbor on some days. My brain cells are not firing as they should because they are too busy trying to survive. I coward around affluent or intimidating (a.k.a. people who seemingly have their shit together whatsoever) people because I did not have trust in my father, my protector, not to hurt me, so how can I trust anyone else?

Yet, still, times were simpler back then.

My mother got her master’s degree in Library school hoping to make a decent living for her family. It was reasonable to believe she could. (And you could tell she was a librarian, just check out those glasses).

But fast forward to 2007 and people with only a high school education are making thousands more than her a year.

How are we supposed to hope and dream for our future when professions that are accessible to all are being closed down or are paid minimally at best?

How about we slow down and give kids the only things they need; books and manners?