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Category Archives: Depression

I Have Anger and Anxiety

I’m angry. At a lot of people and things. I’m angry at the CAFE people I just heard about in an article about man-splaying. Here. Like seriously? Can we get any more whiney or misogynistic?

I’m angry at work. They give someone recognition for something I did ten times better than him that day. AND HE HADN’T EVEN BEEN COVERING PEOPLE LIKE HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DOING THAT DAY!!! He had literally UP and LEFT me with an obviously HUGE order WITHOUT A WORD. WTF.

I’m angry at people that call themselves fat. Bitch, you don’t know what fat is. You don’t know what it’s like to BE fat. You know nothing. If you don’t have an eating disorder, gtfo. It’s because of bitches like that that my world is being invalidated.

I have anxiety, too. Mostly about work.

I work in this magical place called retail where you don’t have to even think you might have done something wrong to have done something wrong. Pissed someon off. Whatever. I’m in constant worry that I just screwed up or have screwed something up.

I grew up around a group of friends that insulted each other to show that we cared. It was kinda counter-productive, but now I don’t know how to treat people.

I’m a girl. I know all about reading between the lines. About being two-faced. And trust me, in my mind, I get pretty nasty when I judge people. Which I try not to do, but it’s human nature and people tend to piss me off. So I’m always nervous that people are like me, hating me on the inside but treating me nice on the outside.

I’m still always anxious about doing shit wrong at work and getting in trouble. I’ve gotten in trouble for stupid shit.

I’m anxiouis about being anxious. Am I anxious? Or am I just invading the anxiety world? Especially because I always get panic attacks for a reason. They don’t pop up out of nowhere. They’re triggered. So that makes them not-panic attacks? I don’t know.

I don’t know anything. I just feel like sitting here, crying, now. I feel invalidated and ashamed and disgusted wtih myself.

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My Boyfriend’s Mother Hates Me

My boyfriend’s mother hates me. And we’ve only been dating less than three months. They had a fight this morning. She started going off about me. Probably about my weight. And how I’m probably encouraging him to gain weight. ‘Cause that’s what all fat people do, right?

I’m sorry if my weight offends you, Mrs. A, but it’s really none of your business. Neither is your 28-year-old son’s weight. At least, not when it’s just a little extra tummy weight.

I’ve struggled with food all my life. It’s not as easy-peasy for me as it was for you. Everyone’s different. Yes, my antidepressants have something to do with my problems. But y’know what? Without those, I’d have killed myself by now. By accident. I’d rather be fat than dead by my own hand. I dunno, those are my priorities. Maybe yours aren’t the same.

I’ve shown her nothing but respect, despite what I think of her. And I’ll continue to show her that. I’m writing this so that I don’t strangle her the next time I see her and she tries to start something. Which she probably will.

 
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Posted by on September 12, 2014 in Depression

 

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Things are Getting Better

Things are getting better. Slowly. Bumpily. I still have some down things. Still struggle with my parents sometimes. But it’s all getting better.

One of the biggest helps is my boyfriend. L has been promising that when I’m down, I can talk to him. I haven’t had an opportunity to take him up on that, but I’m certainly more comforted already. He’s amazing.

See, I was raised with the belief that I shouldn’t rely on anyone close to me that isn’t family. So a boyfriend? He should never know when I’m upset, basically. So although it shouldn’t, it kinda shocks me to hear all this from L. But it’s nice (:.

About that whole work situation. My boss tried to explain something to me about how it was connected with something else I had done wrong. I didn’t get it, so I was discussing it with a friend. She made it crystal clear. So . . . I’m not upset anymore. Because it’s all my own fault anyway and they should have fired me.

We think I have bipolar. That’s what’s causing the excessive spending. So I get to see a psychiatrist in a couple weeks. Kinda stoked to get a diagnosis. And then to get me on the right meds that’ll control my spending. Because I got a couple speeding tickets . . .

Well, I guess that’s all the news so far. May type up another post later. But probably not. Take care, all!

 
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Posted by on July 27, 2014 in Depression

 

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Anxiety and Anger

There have been some new developments in my depression since my last post. Oh, and yes, I gave up on the A-Z blogging. Sorry about that :(.
Anyway. There have been new developments. I don’t remember if I wrote anything about what I’m going to talk about, so I’ll just start from the beginning, anyway.  I do remember mentioning that increased anxiety has come with my depression. Well, it’s getting worse.
One day, something happened and I got very, very anxious at work. I couldn’t have a breakdown at work! I’d be sent home! Previously, my co-worker had told me she gets anxiety attacks and carries Xanax with her. She had offered it to me. So, that first day that I got anxious (not angry) at work, I went up to her and asked if I could have some. I know, I know. Naughty Lacey! I’m a very naughty girl XP. Anyway, it worked a little. I managed to calm a bit.
Maybe a week or so later, something triggered my temper. I was getting angrier and angrier. At customers! It was ridiculous. I needed to chill out before I burst into tears at work again. And what does Xanax do? That’s right! Chills you out! So I went back to my co-worker, who almost-reluctantly gave me a full pill. Again, it only worked a little. But it was enough to keep me mostly sensible for the rest of the day.
I decided then that I wanted Xanax. With my anxiety and anger, I needed help to control myself. So on my next visit to the doctor, I reluctantly told him about my illegal use of Xanax. He actually wasn’t angry. He said “OK,” and I got myself some anxiety pills. For five bucks! That’s less than my antidepressants! It’s very exciting.
I’m using the Xanax a lot more often, now. I don’t believe I’m getting addicted, though. It’s not like I need it every day or anything. Rather, I only take it when there’s been a trigger or potential trigger for anger or anxiety. Then again, these triggers are happening more often, now, too. But I still think I’m going to be OK.
These triggers can be anything. It’s impossible to tell what I will and won’t be able to handle. For example, a while ago my friend and neighbor asked me to watch her pets while she and her family were out of town. One of the pets was her kitten that was kept in her (big) cage while I wasn’t there. I thought I had done a pretty decent job. Cleaned the litter box every day, fed her, watered her, etc. She always made such a mess with the litter, but I didn’t think it would harm her. Just as long as I cleaned it out of the food and water when I got there. Well, my friend was quite surprised when she got home. The cat’s cage was filthy. There was poop and pee outside the litter box that I had not seen. Basically, I had done a horrible, horrible job.
My friend tried to emphasize, though, that I had loved, fed, and watered her very well. That of the top three issues (love, food/water, cleanliness), I had well accomplished two. She was still grateful, and told me she was more concerned about the cat I want to have in the future. I apologized profusely and went on with my day. I had errands to run.
I told myself it wasn’t that big a deal. I tried to shrug it off. The cat was safe, healthy, and I had still done an OK job. But for some reason, it kept bugging me. It bugged and bugged and bugged. Even the new dress I got that day didn’t stop the bugging. It got to the point where I was in the car and I decided I was not at all fit to drive. I took two Xanax.
I did just fine after that. Changed into my new dress, rushed off to work, etc. But then, several hours into my shift, it started bugging me again. I felt like I was going to cry. I took more Xanax and told the HR rep that I was feeling emotionally unstable. Unlike the last time I was emotionally unstable, though, she promised not to send me home! Instead, she said they would let me go to the bathroom and cry until I felt better if I needed to. That helped me feel better, too.
By the end of the night, I was feeling just fine and closed up the registers with a smile. Xanax is amazing.
But no, I promise I’m not using it to solve all my problems. One day, they were giving me grief at work about this and that, and I was unhappy where they had placed me for days on end. Then it was how those two issues connected. Where they place you greatly affects the stuff they give you grief about. And they were placing me at the register where it was near impossible to improve and get them off my back. All this was starting to make me very angry. But I didn’t take my Xanax yet. Instead, I shared my frustrations with another co-worker. She told me to tell my boss, and though I didn’t want to, I finally gave in and took her advice. Nothing was going to happen if I kept quiet, right?
I told my boss my frustrations. She talked to her boss. They gave some lame-ass excuse, but I started to feel a little better. I didn’t take any Xanax.
Later that day, I was still a little worked up. So little things were getting me off. It got to the point where I felt like I was going to cry, so I went back to my boss. This time, I didn’t let her go to her boss. I didn’t want to be a problem. But after I got it all out, y’know what happened? I felt 100% better for the rest of the day!
I think most of the problem with my anger is my inability to let it out. My parents tell me that I should never let work think things aren’t going well. That I’m unhappy. I have to smile and be cheerful and acting like I love my job all the time. But I just can’t do that. I’ve always worn my heart on my sleeve, and I simply can’t keep my emotions in. Otherwise, bad things happen. Like my anger building up from little things and unable to come out, so I burst into tears. I have to let it out.
TL;DR: I was naughty and used Xanax illegally, acquired it legally, and it’s made my life better, though I promise I’m not getting addicted. Also, I wear my heart on my sleeve and if I’m not allowed to, bad stuff happens.

 
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Posted by on June 21, 2013 in Depression

 

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B for Bed

First, I would like to thank EVERYONE for all the likes, comments, and follows on my last post! I really appreciate your words and actions of encouragement! Thank you!

Ever since I fell into my hole of Depression, my bed has been my best friend (on and off). I even wrote a poem about my bed. Wanna read it?

My Bed
You know me
better than anyone else
You know why I cry
You know why I eat

You take my tears
You take my crumbs
in your serene silence

You don’t judge
You don’t scold
You don’t give your opinion
You just hug

You let me spend
all day with you
safe in your embrace

You’re the only one
I can rely on
The only one
that is a true support

I’m safe in your arms
From judgement and misery
Safe and sound

with you.

What’d ya think? I dunno, I like it. Anyways . . .

So, that’s how much my bed means to me, now. At school, my bed was like my life. I did everything on it: slept, watched TV/movies, surfed the web, read, played games on my tablet, did homework, etc. -Everything-. My desk was too much of a mess to do anything with.

At home, I don’t spend much time in my room. I grew up being downstairs, so that’s what I do. I spend the day downstairs. But lately, I’ve been spending much more time in my bed than I should be, even with spending the day downstairs/out of the house. Just this morning I woke up at my normal time (6:30/7:00ish), had breakfast with my family (it’s a nice thing we don’t do all the time), got dressed, went on the computer a little bit, then went back to bed. In case I’m being to vague here, going -back- to bed is very unusual unless I have a day off of work, which I didn’t. I’ve been so tired lately, and today was especially hard. (I drank a 5 Hour Energy and an Amp at the same time. Am I gonna die?)

What about you? How much does your bed mean to you? Whether you have Depression or not?

 
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Posted by on April 2, 2013 in A-Z, Creative Writing, Depression

 

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A for Abilify

Yup. That’s my drug. It saved my academic career.

When I was diagnosed with Depression, my doctor and I agreed we needed something that worked fast. He threw me on Abilify. That stuff worked immediately. With all the side-effects. But those went away. I know it could have been the placebo effect, but it really didn’t feel like it.

I would not recommend this process to anyone. It is the wrong way to go about these things. But, dear God, it worked wonderful for me. I love you Abilify. Never leave my life.

 
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Posted by on April 1, 2013 in A-Z, Depression

 

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I Have Depression

One very important thing to do when you have depression is to admit you have depression. Well, luckily, I have no problem with that. It was hard for me to believe at first, but I learned quick.

A lot has come with my depression. My anxiety went through the roof. And when I’m too tired of being anxious, I get apathetic (this means I do not care about anything, to a very extreme point). I started getting really upset over the stupidest things. I started rocking back and forth to stimulate myself. I developed a shopping problem because shopping and drinking are the only things that make me truly happy.

I have depression. This does not define me. It is not all that I am. It is something that I have to deal with. I have to live with. I’m here to let my issues out in blog form. But I’m also here to help you guys out. Depression does not define you. You are not your depression. You can beat your depression down to the ground. You just have to work at it. I’ll help you.

Best of luck, and all my luv,
~Lacey

 
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Posted by on October 22, 2012 in Depression

 

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