Change, change change!

Holy shit so much stuff has happened lately!

Let's see, I moved out from where I was staying, into an apartment with my mom. It's interesting. We can't really unpack much due to lack of space and storage areas. I have no dresser and the desk coming to me is taking it's sweet time because grandma is picky with bookcases and she hasn't found one she likes to replace the desk we bought from her. It's fucking frustrating living out of my bins and suitcase still but I'm slowly getting stuff settled in. I have a bookcase in my walk-in closet, as well as a lovely octagonal table/storage thing that I plan to use for an altar. (Yes, I am Pagan. Eclectic Wiccan to be precise. No, my mother has no idea of this and hopefully will never ever ever find out.) That will be going in my closet as well once I get a dresser to put my freaking clothes in. I also have a piece of gorgeous artwork (a picture printed on canvas and stretched onto a frame for easy hanging) now as well. Yay for resale shops!

I got my SSI application process started. Dr's appointments and everything out of the way. Filled out a form to join the Peer Support centre in town. Got my address changed at the Post Office and for my Food Stamps. I have AWESOMEAZING internets at my apartment, and a house phone too.

I've been put on a new Anti-Psychotic and off of saphris, and I'm not sure how much I like it but it's better than nothing although it seems to be making me a bit more depressed. Idk if that's stress or not though, could just be stress. So until I've been on it another month I wont really report it. We had to make the dosage less than what I was on the first month because of it making me really sleepy all the time which sucked. Hopefully this dose works out because we're running out of AP's that don't cause weight gain.

Uh, what else. Rachel and I are finally working out some sort of switching schedule. Not really a schedule but we're flowing back and forth more naturally than we were to begin with. Which is good. The past couple weeks I have almost exclusively been a D though but now I am luna and it's a bit of a relief because even though I willingly pushed my subbiness down so I could make Rachel study and stuff it wasn't necessarily that good for me to be so unbalanced. Wasn't for super long though so it's whatever. It is very odd typing this much with my I. With Mistress luna has no "I" even though it isn't a rule, it's just how luna is. But Mistress wants that to be something exclusively for her so outside of speaking to her I use my I even though it's weird as hell.

It's less difficult in person than it is via text, especially because I sometimes have to do writing assignments for Mistress and then it's always in third person.

Anyways Mistress had her last exam today so we will be celebrating! Looking forward to that.

Think that's about it for now! Ta, loves!

Battling instability

So, back before I created this blog, back before I met kitten, back before florida happened... I was a mask. Or several, really. Marina didn't exist back then. What existed was a person who could not feel emotions because the trauma from being raped multiple times when she was ten made her cut them out of her. Total apathy. Laughter? False. Crying? Only physical pain, and incredibly horrible pain at that. Excitement? A facade. Sadness? What sadness? What fear?

The only thing I genuinely felt for at least three years of my life, was loneliness. Not your normal loneliness. It was like this all-encompassing hole of nothing swallowing me and making me see, every single day of my life, that I was completely, totally alone. That no one I knew understood me or would ever understand me because it was literally impossible for them to do so. So I made masks. I faked emotion. I was never happy, never sad, never angry, never upset, never scared.

Until I hit sixteen. See, I got a real bad case of walking pneumonia when I was fifteen, and was on a regimen of a narcotic cough suppressant to help keep me out of the hospital. Unfortunately it started bringing back memories of things, some good, some bad, that had happened to me as young as 3. I woke up from the dreams confused and befuddled, and convinced that they couldn't have happened to me.

Until I started asking my mom about them. And sure enough, every single dream I brought to her attention was something that was a memory. Of course, some things, like being raped, I didn't mention and didn't want to accept that had happened to me. Unfortunately all this culinated in an explosion. Very shortly before I hit sixteen years old, my masks broke, failed me, and I started feeling things again.

Can you imagine the agony emotions were to me after so long without them? Especially when, the moment I started experiencing emotions, I was experiencing severe bipolarity? I swung wildly back and forth between suicidal depression and dangerous mania. I felt anger so bad that I almost broke my sister's arm in a fit of rage. I was completely unequipped to deal with even normal emotions at this point of my life, and instead of even getting the opportunity to get used to it I was thrust into completely unpredictable instability.

Of course, eventually I learned to deal. Yeah, "dealing" included cutting and other forms of self-injury, "dealing" included becoming a kleptomaniac and thrill-seeker. But at least I wasn't succumbing to the suicidal thoughts any more (I have actively attempted suicide at least three times in my life, and listlessly attempted to waste away more times than I can count), and at least I had an outlet for the extra energy my mania gave me rather than allowing my anger to take control of me and hurt people.

No, it wasn't right, but it was better than what could have happened. It was better than what happened in florida, where I was abused, molested at knifepoint, raped, homeless on multiple occasions, had to steal just to survive. Just to eat. I've gone three weeks eating only one very small meal each week. I've never had to sleep on the street but I couchsurfed on the couches of total strangers for a month and a half. I let my boyfriend use me and his best friends abuse me, and repeatedly left somewhat stable situations in order to be with him, only to be kicked out weeks later.

I've been completely disconnected from any means of possible help and only by the grace of the divine managed to escape that hellhole with my life intact.

And that hole never went away. No matter how many friends I had, no matter who I loved, who I got into relationships with. Until suddenly it was gone one day and I realised that somehow it was kitten, the one person I actively pushed away and tried to avoid getting into a relationship with, that filled it.

The problem is, I'm not used to it being filled up. All those bad habits of pushing people away when I get into unpleasant moods, for their sake and mine both, they still exist.

What do you do when habit tells you to push someone away even though you know that it wont fix the problem? What do you do when even though you want to tell someone to stay, you order them to leave, and they have no choice but to obey you because you don't give them any other choice?

More importantly, how do you break these habits and form healthier ones?

I feel very lost and torn right now. I don't know what to do. I've been through so much shit in my life, more in my 27 years than most people experience in 90, and all my friends come to me for advice and I can help them just fine. I always have the right answers.. so why can't I find the right answers for myself?

I don't know what to do, and that's a really hard thing for me to admit.

Counselling

So at my last pdoc appointment she suggested that I might benefit from therapy, particularly in regards to my severe social anxiety. I saw my counsellor later that week and made an appointment for the twenty seventh of this month.. Not realising that it's the day after my birthday until just now.

Oh well. Happy birthday to me! Yay... I get to have mental health appointments as a present to myself...

-sighs- I've been gaining weight and I'm going to have to ask my pdoc about whether SafetyNet covers regular medical appointments or not. If it does I need to go get my thyroid hormones tested because there's a chance my hypothyroid disorder has come back.

I could also just be gaining weight from never fucking leaving my room but I need to get the more dangerous option checked as well.

I've been cycling between mania and depression pretty regularly, spending a week or so manic then a week or so depressed, with a few mixed states in between, but the medicine is just an amazing help. I hardly notice it outside of certain things, especially since my dose was doubled. So far the set we have me on is a good balance. One anti-psychotic/mood stabiliser, one anti-anxiety/mood stabiliser (actially it's technically an anti-epileptic medicine but whatever), and one PRN (as-needed) nerve pill for panic attacks and severe tic attacks.

It's nice to be able to just pop a pill or two when I start freaking out and suddenly twenty minutes later be not freaking out and not ticcing badly any more.

I like my counsellor too. He's easy to talk to and we already have a goal set for therapy, which is to reduce my social anxiety to the point where I don't need to pop a pill just to go visit my family or get to my appointments. My pdoc knows about me going to be trying to get on SSI and all that's needed from me is to have a day where I'm up on time and with my mom so I can try calling the SSI place and getting the information I need.

So yeah. Just an update on things... OH! My room is So. Fucking. Close. to being done.

All that needs done is the ceiling fan, the shelves in the bathroom, the trim underneath the bathroom heater, outlet covers, and then cleanup. If I were working on it I could get it done in a day.

Ofc I'm NOT working on it, Wayne is, and he's a busy man so I'll probably have to wait a week or more, which is fucking frustrating as hell, but... Just. So close. My room looks amazing and I'll post pics when it's done.

Maxie kitten and I have been going through some struggles but it isn't more than we can handle, life's just kicking our asses.

I guess that's it for now!!!

Because a post from me is slightly overdue.

I have no idea what to say but this blog is becoming slightly unbalanced in terms of mine and Mistress' posts and that isn't fair so here we go.

If my life were to have one running theme it would be that there's always something wrong but it's never quite enough to deserve any help. I could be a little autistic, I could have mild cerebral palsy, I could be slightly dyslexic, I have some leg problems, I might be depressed, I have a possible phobia. etc. etc.

Looking at each thing one at a time they wouldn't cause me much of a problem, which is of course what the doctors do. But they all add up and they're making things very difficult for me. Right now my main focus is the phobia I mentioned. One of the biggest problems with it is that it's a needle phobia, very very very common and very often blown out of proportion by countless people. I can't tell you how many times I've had to hear people talk about their "phobia" how they "can't look" and sometimes they have to "hold someone's hand". The last time I had to have an injection? I was in school and waited until the nurses were distracted, ran off and hid in a mostly abandoned toilet block crying for a few hours until I was found, taken to a special room, left to cry in there for a while until everyone else was done and they then spent an hour trying to convince me to even sit down in a chair next to a nurse.

You might think a reaction like that would suggest I deserved some help. I certainly do.

Now, I'm trying very hard not to be negative about this, but after almost a year of pushing, this is all I've managed to get. I was offered access to an online Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) course in order to try to make some progress. Keeping in mind I sought help because I was offered a trip to NEPAL and was being held back by my phobia, I'm sure you can understand my disappointment. That trip to Nepal was about three months ago, it was apparently fun.

I am only at my second session and it is still in the basics which, having studied phobias and anxiety disorders for 2 years, is very boring and demotivating. I'm finding it difficult to see how it will help and then there's a part of me saying that I'm not finding it helpful because once again, my problems aren't bad enough to need help.

I'm not going to give up on this program because even if it turned out to be useless all the way through to the end, at least I can tell the doctors I tried. Sooner or later they'll have to do something because both me and Mistress can see my health being at risk due to this. It's looking increasingly likely that I have a thyroid disorder, take a guess how they test for those.

So right now I'm feeling skeptical and a little let down. I'll keep on with this course and put as much effort into it as I would any other therapy I had been offered in the hope that it helps. I will probably write a few posts about it to try and keep myself thinking rationally and hopefully more positive.

//EDIT

I forgot there was more. This online program came with a bunch of questionnaires at the start to get an idea of my problems. I ranked high for depression, social anxiety, generalised anxiety and specific anxiety, all of which are having a noticeable effect on my social, work and home life. And yet, if I said any of that to a doctor, I bet all of my savings that I'd leave their office with nothing but a few leaflets. The NHS ladies and gentlemen, you get what you pay for.

Aaaand it's time for your (ir)regularly scheduled appointment update.

Due to me being dumb I scheduled my appointment later than I should have so I had my appointment a week later than I should have. Sok though. next appt is four weeks from yesterday and we intend so far on continuing once monthly appointments.

I haven't yet had the courage to bring ssi up to my doctor... mostly cos I'm scared of her reaction. What if she thinks the fact that I'm levelling out means I'll be able to work normally (it won't) and that I won't qualify? Every time I get close to asking about it I freak out.

Anyhow appointment overall went good. I'm gaining weight but that could just be due to irregular eating, not eating as healthily, and being stuck in this fucking room, ugh. Both of the mood stabilising medicines she has me on are shown to be weight-neutral. As in they don't make you gain weight, which is a common trait of most mood stabilisers.

I've been struggling badly with mania on and off the past what, two weeks? week and a half?

Yeah, yeah, I know "Wait, isn't mania great?"

No. No it fucking isn't.

In it's own way mania is just as bad as depression. For sure it's a helluva lot more dangerous with the exception of suicidal depression and then it's a tie.

Wanna know why?

Because nothing bothers you, and nothing can go wrong. Whereas depression I don't eat or shower or get up out of bed because I don't have the will to do so, when I'm actually manic (not hypomanic, which is far more common, or mixed state which is my natural state) I just don't give any fucks.

Forget to eat? Oh well it's okay I don't really need to eat that badly. Sleep? Pah, who needs it! I'm fine on three hours a night, if that. What's that? Have I been drinking water? Oh well.. I'll do it later.

Being in a perpetually positive mood is fucking dangerous especially when mixed with a feeling of basically being invincible and nothing being able to hurt you, you can live through anything so it doesn't matter. I very rarely get voices or psychoses (such as the urge to try to fly off a twenty story building...) thank fuck, but it has happened in the past.

Then there's the agitation. When I am manic I get agitated easily. I get aggravated easily. I get so fucking pissed off that I just want to punch people in the fucking face.

Over the tiniest things.

Nothing.

It's horrible.

Add in racing thoughts, completely being unable to focus on anything, a genuine inability to sleep long, and being in such an overall good mood that I think I don't need my medicine...

Not good.

So I talked to my doctor about it and she suggested I get a medicine tray and set a timer/alarm for a couple hours after I wake up to make sure to check the tray. She also suggested that instead of taking my gabapentin three times a day I take one in the morning and then two at night, so I don't have to worry about forgetting my afternoon dose. She also doubled the dosage because even when I'm on my medicine I'm still having some problems with not eating well and agitation and racing thoughts and then the mood swings and jumping back and forth between mania and depression multiple times daily and sometimes multiple times hourly.. yeah.

So anyhow she doubled my dose instead of putting me on something else, since this is working spectacularly.

She asked if I needed more of my alprazolam and I truthfully told her no. with how much less often I am taking it (not even one pill every day) I have plenty enough for a month. In fact when I got home (after taking two to calm me down from the positively foul mood I was in due to my mother), I counted my alprazolam and found I had... thirty! hahaha.

So yeah. We're both pleased with my progress, especially on the tourettes level. It has been two months since I pulled my hair out! And one month since I had a bad episode with lots of scratching. That isn't to say I haven't had scratching episodes, but they haven't lasted long or been severe thanks to the alprazolam.

Overall despite the ongoing problems with mania I feel better. To be honest the idea of being "fixed" is scary. I literally, went from being so depressed that I was in a state of total and complete apathy and had no genuine emotion whatsoever, to bein' "wham bam bpiolar here you go thank you ma'am." I have never in my memory had a single day where I was not either manic, depressed, or a mixture of both. I have never not had rapid mood swings. I don't know who I am without it...

I am being pleasantly surprised. Nothing about me at the core is changing. And the non-core changes have all been good. I'm able to concentrate better, I'm not constantly in a state of panic, the paranoia is SEVERELY cut down - still there, but at that level of me being able to ignore it if I know it's not reasonable. I'm writing again which is a feat in and of itself. I used to have so many traumas associated with writing that it was nigh-on impossible for me to write more than a couple times a year.

So even though I'm still scared, still worried... I'm doin pretty okay right now. :) I'm less worried than I thought I'd be. Becauase maybe who I am isn't the bad person I've always made myself out to be.

Just A Little Something From me

I am struggling. Like, really struggling. 

The last two of my exams are on Monday and, as they approach, the light and colour is quickly draining from my world. I honestly wasn't expecting to have the educational rug pulled out from under me until I was leaving university all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed only to find my degree is worthless. Sadly, due to a certain politician and his outdated ideas of how schools should work, if I fail now this will be it for me. 

Obviously it's not the end of the world, there are a million ways I could go even if I don't do well enough in exams but it's hard to see it that way. I'm an academic and I really don't know where I fit in this world other than doing that. 

Except I do.

I know exactly where I fit.

Right at my Mistress' feet. 

This morning I found myself in the deepest pit of depression I've encountered for a long time; everything seemed so big and there I was, tiny and weak. Yet somehow, even in the midst of that a part of me knew what I needed. It was small at first but there was a little part of me crying out for Her to take some control and as the depression got worse, that voice got louder and louder until I couldn't let my pride deny it any more and voiced what I needed. 

(Just want to point out here that this speaks for how new and tentative we are with regards to the 24/7 thing that I was so reluctant to say anything and she had not taken that step by herself. We are a loooong ways off having this down.)

The second Mistress stepped in, even though it was only in a small way, I felt so much weight lift off my shoulders. The second I knew things were in Her hands I just... I felt safe and secure. My day completely turned around from that point; I got jobs done in my room that I had been putting off for days and I even managed to study. 

When this day started I felt hopelessly depressed and tied to my bed, right now I can't say it's all gone away but I can move again and my future is not a black hole. My future lies with my Mistress. That is my constant. Whatever path I may take, we will be taking it together. Not only is that my comfort but it is also a warning: if I am lazy and I throw in the towel with my life, I take her with me. I don't want that and She will most certainly not let it happen.  

I ended yesterday wondering whether giving myself wholly to Mistress was what I wanted. I end today knowing that it's what I need.