Work It

Something's gotta give...

Enrico Caruso, a famous opera singer, was once quoted to have said that his voice has him. Yes, he has a voice, but with fame comes give and take. He basically meant that he went wherever his voice was needed. He missed the birth of his daughter because his voice had to be somewhere. Get what I'm saying?

If that was clear as mud, allow me to explain my side of this. Yes, I have mental illnesses, but they also have me. Lately, it seems like I have less and less control over myself. My manic-depression is deciding what mood I'm in and when. I'm just along for the ride. My Anxiety is controlling where I go and what I do. I can't seem to get anywhere by myself lately. I have to have someone with me or know that I'm meeting someone there. My brain is controlling my life.

I looked for jobs again today. Bad idea. It does nothing but frustrate me. "Must have two years experience." "Customer service for busy office." Aren't there jobs out there for people who hate people?

I still marvel at the pure stupidity of my old med manager and therapist for saying that I can work. Right... So apparently being absolutely terrified of human contact makes me the perfect candidate for retail. I get so angry that I can't work. You think I like being labeled "disabled?" I'd rather die, but I know my limits and it's getting to a point where my front door is my limit.

I need to find a therapist who will work with me on my social phobia. My last one focused on the bullying trauma. That's not going to help me be a contributing member of society! I need to be able to say hello to someone without having a full-on panic attack! Does nobody realize this?! Help me!

I'm done with that rant now...

So, since leaving Facebook, my stress levels have gone way down. I don't miss it at all. No need to fear, however, I'm still on Twitter and Instagram. You can follow me there!

Twitter: @AROTBEblog
Insta: rie_define

I post the occasional picture on Insta and I don't really tweet except for my blog posts, but I'd love for all my friends to stay connected and meet new ones along the way!

Opera Drama

No more people. Please!

So my entire family went to see Man Of Lamancha done by the Utah Opera today. Since this particular episode isn't technically an opera (it's a musical), it was a full house. Full house in that theatre means we're cramped in there like sardines. Hardly any room to breathe.

Before the show, we waited in the lobby. Can I just say that people are loud? They have absolutely no consideration for anyone else, they'll shout over one another, and someone touched me! Never, ever touch me if you want to keep your hand! 

During the show, I was able to focus more on it rather than the hundreds of people surrounding me, except for the guy behind me... Every time he'd clap, it sounded like a .44 magnum going off right next to my ear! If you haven't caught on, I don't do well with loud noises. 

After the show, my mom and I found a hidden restroom which was far from populated. The time spent in there allowed many people to leave the theatre. I was happy with this. Then we got to the lobby... There weren't anywhere near as many people as there were before the show, but they were even louder! How?! Why?! Do you really need those on the space station to hear you?! I was getting extremely agitated and was just about to scream "shut up," but I talked my parents into leaving first.

Getting home was like coming home after a long trip. I was still slightly irritated, but the amazing dinner my mom made helped with that. Now my mom and I are sitting here watching NCIS and life is as it should be once more. There is balance in the force. Voldemort is defeated. The Doctor has saved mankind.

Pain In The Neck

Oww.

So yesterday was fun. I had an endoscopy where the doctor stretched my esophagus so that it would be normal sized. Yesterday was way worse, but today still sucks. I can't swallow solid food without severe pain. I'm not saying that's stopping me, I'm just saying it's not the brightest idea. 

To add insult to injury, I bit my bottom lip in my sleep. It's now bleeding and infected. Every time I move my mouth, I'm reminded of this. I've had to learn to use a straw on the right side of my mouth instead of the middle. Even talking... some words make my teeth hit the sore spot. And you can forget about putting lip gloss on! 

Now for the icing on the cake... I was looking at every job site I could for near an hour and found exactly nothing I can do. Everything is full time, requires knowledge or skills I don't possess, or is incredibly public customer service. With the knowledge and skills, I can learn that stuff, but nobody is willing to train! "Do not apply if you have no experience with Quick Books..." How am I supposed to get experience when nobody's willing to train?! Huh?!

In closing, today sucks. Except that I got to have lunch with my mom.

Nighttime

Winter.

Have I mentioned lately exactly how much I loathe this season? It's dark, it's cloudy, we've been dumped on by snow like three times since Christmas, and then there's the cold. The thing I hate most of all: the darkness. I've said before about how I hate darkness, and tonight is no better.

Today was pretty chill. My poor mom was home sick so there was a lot of TV watching and some time to read. Then came the call I'd been waiting for for two years... I have a hearing date for disability benefits! I was so excited! Then came the darkness...

Nighttime has a way of bringing out the depression in most people, and I'm no exception. As soon as the lights went out, my mind began to spin and my failed life came to the forefront. I mean, look at me. I can't handle going to school, let alone hold a job. The only times I get out of the house are with my mom, my weekly date with my friend, and to get to the clinic. Except I won't be going to any clinic until next month... I got an intake appointment with the biggest clinic in the valley on the ninth and I have no idea when I'll be assigned a therapist or med manager. Good thing I've got refills on my meds!

Besides not getting out much, I've succumbed to the fact that I will never marry. I'm going to die alone. Why? Well partly because I don't get out, and partly because nobody could handle me. I've heard from therapists and med managers alike that my moods are more extreme than others. I can barely deal with it, so how can I expect anyone else to? 

I really hate darkness.

Good Bye

I announced a few days ago that I had officially rejoined the Facebook world and have had nothing but attacks since. I could type "hello" and my so-called "friends" would attack me. Not the friends I actually see and communicate with. Oh no... these are the ones who I haven't seen or heard from in years, save it be through Facebook. So I'm announcing now that I'm leaving Facebook permanently. 

Sure, I could just delete them, but there's too many of them. I'd wind up with like five friends. Besides, Facebook is nothing but politics now and heaven forbid I State an opinion. If I don't agree with your stance, I ignore your post. If someone disagrees with my stance, all Hell breaks lose. That one, even close friends get in on, and yes I'm angry with them. I'm hurt that they couldn't simply ignore it and feel like they have to attack me. 

So good bye toxic atmosphere! No more Facebook, no more messenger.

Bad Clinic

So I just fired my clinic.

It's always irritated me that not one single person there respected my religion or my choice to participate in Christianity. They would use the name of my Lord and Saviour  like they do in movies- like it's just another curse word. When I told my therapist that I was participating more deeply in my church, she asked, "why?" Today, I saw my med manager and she told me to go to a different religion because it would be better. Excuse me? I found my truth. You're welcome to your truth, but don't you dare question mine or try to shove yours down my throat.

The best part, however, was today. I had brought in a paper from the state to be filled out by a medical professional to deem me disabled and unable to work. After explaining how I have been feeling for the past month or so to my med manager and my work history being known by my therapist, the two of them together decided that I am, in fact, not disabled. 

Allow me to rebut with a few facts about my work history... 

I had one job that I quit after a week. I have walked out of more jobs than I can remember, and after interviews, I avoid any job offer by ignoring their phone calls. Employment and I do not get along. At least not for more than a month. I can't deal with the public because people suck and will take out their mistakes on the poor cashier. I walked out of the one and only full time job I had a few years ago because they put me on attendance probation after I left one (yes, one) day a few hours early.

I'm the first to tell you I don't have a problem, but I also know my limits. I. Can't. Work. 

It's no secret that I've applied for disability benefits, and my therapist was more than willing to write a letter explaining just how bad my symptoms are and how they affect me working, so why would she deny me state benefits in the mean time? I don't get it.

So I'm now incredibly irritated and ready for war with whoever talks to me first. Friends: approach with caution. Unless you don't mind me venting.

Do It For You

"Stubborn." "Impudent." "Insolent." "Contemptuous."

These words have something in common (besides relative definition). Can you guess what they are? They are all words used to describe someone who needs help but refuses to get it. I know. I was there.

Years ago, I was called each and every one of these words by those who care about me because they could see that something wasn't quite right and I needed help. Granted, I sought therapy on my own, but medications were a whole other story. 

I was dead set convinced that I could handle this on my own; that God would get me through the hard times. My faith helped, but it only got me so far. Whenever people would suggest medication to me, I said I'd think about it just to placate them. I wanted nothing to do with meds. I didn't want the stigma. I didn't want people to look at me as weak. 

For quite a while, I was combative, rude to my family, and thought that, not only could I do this without meds, but that I knew better than everyone. For years, I'd have breakdowns that tore me down so far that I was tearing others down with me. I would fight with family and friends just because they got on my nerves. I had exactly zero tolerance. 

The big realisation came when I overdosed on pain killers. That's the point where I admitted to myself that I needed the help of therapy along with medication.

I tell you this because I don't want you to have to learn the hard way that I did. I don't want you to wind up in the hospital, hooked up to machines with a tube up your nose with a charcoal drip going down your throat. Don't make your loved ones see you that way.

 If you find it difficult to get along with people, are having breakdowns frequently, or feel like you can't control things, I beg you, get medication. 

There's a lot more tolerance toward mental health than there used to be. The people who love you will not think you are weak. In fact, it takes more strength to admit you need help than it does to deal with it alone. 

If you still can't do it for yourself, do it for your family and friends. They deserve the best version of you.

My Apology

I've always taken Agent Gibbs' rule to heart to never apologise because it's a sign of weakness, but a friend of mine taught me that it takes real strength to do so. So here goes nothing...

For a while now, my behaviour has been, at best, unpredictable. Looking back on the things I've said makes me hold my head down in shame. The level of straight up caustic words spewed from my mouth is, for some, unforgivable. I can't honestly say I don't blame these people because there are plenty of others who have stuck with me thru every dark day, but I hope they can find it in their hearts to forgive me one day.

I have had exactly zero control over my emotions and, yes, actions for the past month or so. The reason being that I was having a severe reaction to one of my medications that I was technically being overdosed on. It was prescribed, so don't get all panicky on me. Not even my doctor could have foreseen a reaction this bad. I wound up in the emergency room last night as a result of this reaction. 

To my friends who have stuck with me, I thank you and I am truly sorry for the things I have said. I pray we can move past this and I will try my best while I am detoxing to behave myself. This will take some time, so bear with me. I will rejoin the Facebook world once I can trust that I can be rational and kind once more. 

No More

I've been crying on and off all afternoon.

So I went to my first day of this semester, found out the load was going to be too much for me. I changed my schedule no less than three times after I got home. Everything I tried to sign up for was either full or late at night (like getting out at ten o'clock!). So I cried because I was frustrated. Now I'm sitting here crying because I figured out that I loathe school. It puts way too much pressure on me. So I made the big decision to drop out.

My parents are very supportive of my decision, as usual. Some of my friends are having issues with it, however. Mostly because they all think I can do it. I hate to fail everyone, but I'm on the edge of a total mental breakdown. Hospitals would be involved if I stay in and try. School simply isn't healthy for me. 

At least I can say I gave it a valiant effort. Thank you everyone who supported me through this. 

Round Two

I'm so nervous that I'm not going to sleep well tonight.

So school starts up again tomorrow. As I'm sitting here in the dark of night, my stomach is tying itself into knots. I had to watch a few videos for my IT class and, well... I'm not holding my breath for a good grade. I'm a techno idiot so doing much of anything with computers is basically not going to happen. I mean, I can use my word processor and navigate the internet, but besides that, I'm way out of my league.

It's not just that class, though. I also have to take interpersonal communications. Yeah... communicating isn't my strong point. I write because I can't talk. Now if I just have loads of papers due, I'll manage, but from what I've heard, it's more oral presentations. I'm protected from those, thankfully, but I don't know if this teacher will work with me. Here's hoping.

Besides the scary classes, it's going to be all new people. I don't like new people. I don't like people. I hate having to get to know someone new and I generally just keep it light ("Hi. Nice day, right?" and "Did you get this question?"). People can usually sense this and leave me alone. This is both a good and bad thing. I mean, I like making friends, but I also like being by myself. I'm stuck in the middle of "I'm here!" and "Go away." The worst is when I have a friend who is constantly in need of attention and validation. If that's what you're looking for, I'm not your girl. I learnt to validate myself, you can, too.

So we'll see how tomorrow goes. Wish me luck. 

The Blame Game

Why me?

I get blamed quite a bit for things I didn't do, and people tend to assume that I'd do something that I never would. It's always been annoying. Today it comes to a head.

Now, I can't remember every single one of these since it happens so often, but I'll give you a few insights.

A few days ago, my mom accused me of using the money she had given me for school on other things. She knows clear and well that I don't! Naturally, this accusation caught me off guard and it took some time to forgive her for thinking that way about me.

My Bishop (the leader of my congregation) threatened to make me speak during church, but he qualified it with "as long as you don't berate them the whole time."  Excuse me?! You obviously have no idea who I am...

As I posted a while back, my high school music teacher berated me in front of my entire section because she believed the word of a whiny, attention-seeking sycophant when he told her I was laughing at him. I was, in fact, goofing off with someone (who got no punishment, by the way...). 

My favourite,  however, was when I was twelve (I think...). I was on the school bus, waiting to go home. I was talking to my friend when the bus driver gets up and starts yelling for me to get off. She accused me of some terrible things including cursing at her as I got off. I have no doubt that Brooke had something to do with this. Side note: it was against policy for her to kick me off. She lost her job not long after that for other similar offences. 

I get so tired of people accusing me just because I'm there. What, am I just an easy target? Do I have a mischevious face? What makes people believe I'm capable of terrible things?!