Learning To Be Okay

It takes time. It takes time to accept a mental illness diagnosis. I’ve known something was wrong my whole life, it wasn’t until recently that it was confirmed. And yet, I’m still not okay with it. 

Each day I spend alone, I find myself crying at some point. If no tears actually fall, I wish whole heartedly that they would. I feel sorry for myself. It’s true. 

Why do I have to go through this? Why me? Why can’t my brain function today? Was life better without medication? At least I was able to function without medication. Now all I do is sit around wishing, just wishing to live. I no longer have it in me to go out and create a life for myself. 

I can feel my dreams fading day by day. What once used to be a powerful goal, turned simply into nothing. What once used to be a hobby, well, its long forgotten. 

I used to travel. I used to go places alone. I used to be free and wild. Now, I’m in my own little cage I created. 

How do I live again? How do I function again? The things that once depressed me no longer have a hold. So, why am I still so sad? I’m experiencing a hypomania episode, why aren’t I cleaning or happy? It’s a “good day” today, yet I still can’t function nor can I even begin to think about accomplishing anything. 

I wish someone would understand, it’s not that I don’t believe in myself but, it’s because my mind reverts back to being a child. Today, all I’ve been able to do is paint branches and rocks, draw a little. I tried cleaning my bathroom, but only made a bigger mess outside of it. 

I don’t know where to go from here. Honestly, I’m a bit lost. Life is looking up, I’ve got endless support. But, what do I need to do to feel happy with myself? Can I love myself the way I am right now, or do I have to change things in order to love myself and my life? 


I want to be happy, I really do. I want to be productive and do the things I say I’m going to do, but it’s so difficult. It’s almost impossible some days. I wish you could understand. 

Today, today is a day full of halfway finished projects and a patio full of craft supplies. It’s a mind full of ideas going by so quickly I can’t hold onto one of them. Even just attempting to write this is taking so much strength today. 

I need to call someone and thank them for a Christmas present, I need to clean, I need to do laundry, I need to write, I need to do everything.

 I can’t do anything. All I can do is sit here and drink my coffee. I finally made an appointment with a new psychiatrist, isn’t that enough for the week? Because, that’s all I’ve accomplished. 

I need to do things with my hands, simple things. I feel like a child. I can’t process important information at the moment. I can’t even begin to go through my makeup to decide what I want and don’t want. I’m a mess. 

On days when I feel like this, it’s hard to see how someone could love me. I don’t have a job, I’m not in school. Today I’ve done nothing but paint a tree branch and attempt to make a shitty dream catcher. I want to draw, but I’m afraid to try. I want you to understand that I can not help this. I do not know how to help myself. 

I tried taking a walk, taking a shower, those helped for a while. Now, I’m back in this place. It’s like I’m stuck on the border line of being productive and being lazy. And I can’t cross over into one. Mentally, I can’t focus. Physically, I can’t move much. 

I just want to be happy. I want to be productive. 

I want to be fucking normal. 


I grew up in an emotionally abusive home. Nothing I did was ever good enough. I was never good enough. Then, I found myself in a worse situation with an emotionally abusive boyfriend. Whom I lived with. After him, I thought I’d never love again.

While single, my life was turned upside down by a Bipolar ll diagnosis. Along with that I have anxiety and PTSD. For a while I felt like I was just a ball of mental health issues and caffeine. That all changed the day I met him.

He cooks for me. He takes care of me when I feel sick. He tells me stories when my mind won’t stop. He holds me tight. He loves my dog. He even reminds me to take my medication. This is the man in my life, now. The one I want to stick around.

He believes I deserve these things even when I can not see that. He spoils me even though I believe I’m not worthy. He still thinks I deserve better than him, but I don’t see how it gets any better than him. Not at all.

I never thought I’d meet a man so supportive, so loving of me. I never thought I’d meet a man who got coffee every time I did. I never thought I’d meet a man who is still interested despite my mental illnesses.

I’m a damn lucky girl.


Alone At Night

For me, the scariest time to be alone is at night. Not because of the monsters under my bed, but because of the monsters that live in my head. They tend to be easier to ignore during the day. However, last night they wanted to come out to play. 

It started out innocent, being upset that I didn’t do the things I wanted to get done last night. But, when I went to bed things changed. It was my first night sleeping alone in a week. And I couldn’t fall asleep. 

Sure, part of the reason I couldn’t sleep last night was because I missed my man’s arms around me. But, it was also because my mind wouldn’t stop. 

Earlier, I had tried to write a couple pieces on my addictions to self harm. The rest of the night was spent fighting off the urge to give into those addictions. I wanted so badly to just let them take over and control me, but I fought. I fought hard. I laid there for hours thinking about what it’d be like to release some emotion in those unhealthy ways. I maybe got a total of an hour or two of sleep last night. 

I laid there awake, 11pm, 1am, 3am, 5am. 

With every morning comes hope, though. I woke up to my fur baby cuddling with me. I woke up to find my boyfriend isn’t working today, and I woke up to find that I had been strong enough to say no to those temptations. 

No matter what you must do, wait. Tell yourself you’ll do it in the morning. Wait until the morning. Chances are, they’ll pass. One day, they’ll pass. 


Learning As I Go

Before the Christmas weekend, I was convinced my hypomania phase was coming to a screeching hault. I was crying randomly, sad, and thinking about self harm again. What I didn’t realize is that you can be going trough a hypomanic episode and still have depressive thoughts. 

For the first time in, 4 days I am alone. Just me and my fur baby. No boyfriend hanging with me, no family events, just me and my dog. Well, my dog is inside right now so, just me at the moment. Being alone right now has made me excruciatingly self aware. I haven’t missed being this aware of what’s going on in my mind, this caught up in my own thoughts. But, it’s a good thing. I need to check in every once in a while. 

I’ve come to the realization that I’m still in a hypomania episode. While with my boyfriend this past week I felt relatively normal, there were probably still signs of hypomania. Like, you know, constantly having to get out of the house and do things would be one of them. 

As soon as I found out I’d be alone tonight, my head began making plans. I would work on a budget for next month, I would work on my resolutions, I’d start writing that book, I’d draw, I’d plan my day tomorrow, I’d do everything in a matter of a few hours. Maybe even get some cleaning done. Well, none of that happened. I did attempt to draw, but the passion wasn’t there. 

Now, I’m sitting outside after just having taken a bath. Thank God for baths, I was about to lose my mind, up in here. I was beating myself up mentally for not accomplishing a damn thing I wanted to do. I mean, I was just so fucking excited to do those things! Why couldn’t I do them?

I don’t know why I couldn’t do them, to be honest. But I do know all that planning was my mental illness, not me. So, as myself, I went and calmed down. I accepted the fact that it was okay I did not do any of those things. And you know what? It is okay. Just because I didn’t do them doesn’t mean my day wasn’t meaningful. It was very meaningful, I spent it with my favorite person. And I wrote a damn good blog post earlier, if I do say so myself. 


And So It Begins

Well, Christmas is over, Thanksgiving has long passed, and there’s still a pile of Halloween makeup in everyone’s bathroom. Oh, wait, that’s just me? Oops. 

The Christmas trees are still up and the wrapping present is still covering the house. Oh, again just me? Okay, anyway!

It’s about time for reflecting on the past year and setting goals to make changes for the coming year. I mean, come on everyone 2016 was just shit. Let’s all make an effort to make 2017 a badass year. Or, at least laugh at Donald Trump memes. Seriously, so excited for those!

Currently, I’ve started my New Year’s Resolution list. I’m adding to it as time passes. I do want to share it with my lovely readers, but I want to make sure it’s mostly completed first. So, you can keep an eye out for that post! 

One thing I wanted to share with you is my newest addition to my list. I literally added it as I was writing this, but thought of it just minutes before I began to write. 

After we got back from the grocery store, I had forgotten my purse in the car. While I was walking out to get it, by myself, I realized something. I felt differently than when I walk with my boyfriend. Why was that? I don’t want to feel better about myself when I’m with him and then feel less about myself when we’re apart. That’s sure as hell not healthy. 

That’s when I realized, I was walking with my head down. Staring at my feet as they walked down the sidewalk. Careful, to not step on any cracks. You know, don’t want my mother’s back broken and all that! Then, I realized that while walking with my head down, I add anxiety to my day. Why? Because it takes away my view of what’s around me and makes me solely focused on the few steps ahead. 

So, my newest addition to my New Year’s Resolutions is to walk with more confidence. Or, you know, watch where the hell im going. I tried this while going out to my car, consciously reminding myself to hold my head high.

 It helped! I instantly felt more in control, which meant less anxious feelings. I was alone and completely in control, nothing could stop me. Walking back, I caught myself looking down again. But, told myself to keep my head held high and continued to do so. 

It’s a small goal, something easy and simple. Yet, it can make a world of a difference. Try it. If it’s difficult for you to do so, then I have an idea or like, a challenge for you. 

Walk into your closet, or open your dresser drawer. Whatever it may be, find your outfit you feel most confident in. It could be sweat pants and a tshirt, or a super nice dress. Maybe even a suit. If you don’t know what it is, try and dress up. Add all the accessories, do your makeup and hair, shave that beard. I’m talking to both guys and girls, here. Although, if you’re a woman with a beard, rock whatever makes you smile. 

Once you’ve found that outfit, I know wearing heels helps me, go outside. If you need your safe person, grab them and go do something. I challenge you to go and get some coffee. Or, if you’re not human, go and get a smoothie or one of those $7 juices. You don’t have to stay there, but get out and get something you enjoy. Maybe even ice cream. If someone asks why you’re wearing a damn tuxedo, tell them you’ve got an important event you’re headed to. Which isn’t a lie, because when you get home, you’ll feel important and that in and of itself is an important event. 

Take care, my lovelies. I hope everyone has enjoyed their holidays. Let’s start working on making 2017 a great year!


Merry Christmas!!! 

From the bottom of my heart, I want to wish my lovely readers a Merry Christmas. 

To those of you who don’t celebrate Christmas, Merry Everything and a happy always!

This Christmas is a special one to me. It’s the first with my boyfriend, but it’s also the first with Bipolar ll. 

I have so much to be thankful for today, so here’s a list of things that I’m counting my blessings for today. 

  1. God’s Saving Grace
  2. My family
  3. My friends I consider family
  4. My man
  5. My fur baby
  6. Lush products
  7. Bubble baths
  8. Coffee
  9. Cold Christmas Air
  10. Smiles, and lots of them. 

Holiday Shopping and Anxiety

Yesterday, my lovely boyfriend got off of work early. Thank God because I was bored out of my mind. We’ve become kind of attached at the hip this past week, even willingly sitting on the same side of the booth at dinner. This was his doing, I’m not usually that girl! But with him, I secretly love it. 

After I picked him up we headed to the best mall in Arizona. This was a mistake as we learned when we realized it was the Thursday before Christmas and not everyone was in school or working. About 70% of people shopping were men buying last minute gifts. Or, maybe it just seemed like it because the only store I went into was Victoria Secret. What a nice gift, for yourself, guys. Just kidding, we enjoy it too!

Parking was an absolute nightmare! They had entire parking garages reserved for valet parking ONLY. Gotta make those few extra bucks, I guess. We finally found a parking spot in the bottom of a garage I’d never even been in before. I was quite turned around. As you can imagine, my anxiety should have been through the roof with all the traffic, stupid people, and not knowing where I was. But, I was able to breathe because I had my man next to me. A true sign that he’s a man I trust. I let him lead the way to find how the hell to get out of that damn garage. 

Once we got inside the mall, I continued to let him lead. And then, I realized he had no clue where he was, either. I know this mall like the back of my hand by now. It’s my favorite. So, arms around each other, I guided him up stairs, to the left, through sephora (with only one stop to check the price of foundation), and out the door on the other side of makeup hell to Starbucks. I was quite relieved walking into a nearly empty coffee shop as the inside of that mall was my description of hell, just fewer clowns and cirque de solé performers. 

I ordered my coffee, paid for it myself like the independent woman I am. Okay, it was my parent’s money, but I don’t have a job right now! And then stepped aside and waited for him to order his ridiculous venti quad hot white chocolate mocha. Man needs four shots of espresso, he’s crazy. That’s a $7 fucking cup of coffee! Anyway, he’s the best. He lets me take selfies of us. He doesn’t mind the photos!

We sat outside and smoked our cigarettes in the nonsmoking section like the badass rebels we are. A couple women began to “cough” and left. Oops. My bad. We stared into each other’s eyes, awkwardly stumbled into a conversation regarding a wedding. Not ours, but like, our friends’ and then I mentioned something about how I want mine to be classier, and then we awkwardly smiled and changed the subject.

With our cigarettes done and our coffee in our hands, we braced makeup hell yet again and made it to the center of my personal hell, back inside the middle of the mall. So many people. So many. I guided him to the directory, which apparently didn’t help him much, and went on my way to hot topic. Where I then got distracted by Victoria Secret. I mean, come on, all bras just $35? Hell yes, please! Suddenly, I forgot I was miserable. 

After my lovely time shopping for myself while my boyfriend also shopped for me, I’m not spoiled. I left the crowded lingerie store with the employee who was just dying to tell me about her Black Friday experience working there, and walked out the store. On my way, I ran into a small group of dancing children in front of the PC store. Yes, this truly is my hell. Then, I found myself in front of a little bit of heaven, Tiffany’s. 

As I paused like I always do in front of heaven, I dreamt about having a croissant in the other hand and just staring at the sparkling jewelry on the other side of the glass. One day, whether I buy it or my future husband does, I will have something from Tiffany’s. Seriously, though. If a man buys me something from Tiffany’s there’s an 80% chance he’s my future husband, or already my husband. 

I took a right at Tiffany’s and managed to escape the noise. I found a spot to smoke in a parking garage. I sat back and relaxed. Finally, able to breathe for a moment. As soon as I sat down, that’s when my boyfriend finally found the store he’d been looking for. Bless his heart. 

I smoked a cigarette, called my parents, smoked another cigarette. There were construction or maintenance type employees doing something by me. A teenager walked up to ask me how to get out of here, they told him how. As he walked off, they joked about how they’d see him on the news later about shooting the place up and they’d become his accomplices. This set off my anxiety, bad. I suddenly wanted to get the hell out of there, find my boyfriend, and hold onto him for dear life. My mind created images of explosions and pain. People dying right before Christmas, me dying. Thankfully, before the Anxiety officially set in, my boyfriend was walking toward me. I felt relief, it brought me out of my mind and back to the present moment. All was well, no one died. 

I finished my cigarette and we headed back into the mall. Walked to where we came in at, and found ourselves walking through the parking garage with car alarms going off. We past by a man fixing his shoe lace, or something in between cars. This had me instantly curious as my anxiety was still somewhat high. My mind created more images. He was breaking into cars, we’d seen him, he was going to kill us. I was so nervous, but I kept my mouth shut. Who knows? He was probably honestly just fixing his shoe standing by his car. I reminded myself there was a cop driving around, we’d be fine. 

At 6pm we were finally in the car and on the way to pick up some dinner. We grabbed Chipotle and headed back to my place. I felt relief when I said, “I assumed I was waking up to take you home at 5am” and he said, “good.” Well, I don’t remember what he said but “good” works for me. 

We are our dinner, took my dog for a walk, and cuddled. We were asleep by 8:30pm. Like the old couple we are. 

Anxiety can make things a living hell, but once you start being able to control it, it becomes less of a hell and more of a tolerable place. I mean, there’s still stupid people. 


What In The Hell Is Going On?

For the past week, things have seemed to be pretty great. I’ve been in a great mood, I’ve been cleaning, and things have been looking up. I realized the other day that this was due to the fact I’m currently in a hypomania episode. Which, I thought was great. But it turns out, hypomania comes with its own struggles. 

It has anxiety of its own, it has bouts of depression of its own, it has sadness and anger of its own. It has ADD of its own. 

Hypomania causes me to have too many grand ideas all at once. That feel like they have the urgency to need to be done, all at once. Drop everything. Do them now. But that’s impossible as I can’t prioritize these ideas. Not at all. Having these thoughts and ideas caused me to just sit down and cry yesterday. I never cry. 

The first time I cried yesterday, there was a clear reason. And as I write this I begin to realize there was also a clear reason for the other 3 times I friend yesterday afternoon. 

I was angry, frustrated, helpless, and sad. I couldn’t control my own mind. I fought long and hard, it stuck around. I was crying and the thoughts going through me head were, “Why me? Why can’t my mind function normally? Why can’t I do all these great things I think up? Where would I be if I could just pick one thing and pour my heart into it? I’d probably be making a living off of my blog and doing what I love right now.”

I’ve got no answers to these questions. Except, my mind makes me who I am. I am not my mental illness, it is something that is apart from me. Not apart of me. 


Fighting For Control

I started my day out with happiness and determination. Okay, I started off grumpy, but I was still pretty happy. I got to enjoy morning coffee with my lovely boyfriend, and that makes me smile. I was going to go back to bed after taking him to work at 5am, but I decided against it. I wanted to watch the sunrise, plan my day, drink more coffee, and read some books. I was going to be okay today. 

However, my mental health issues had a different plan in store for me. I’m currently going through a hypomania phase, which I figured meant I’d be happy and get shit done! Wrong. I forgot that with all good, comes bad. Today, was a bad day. And as much as that’s okay, it still sucked. Today my anxiety and bipolar tried to control me and I’m proud to say I fought against it!

I could tell at about 10 or 11 am that my day wasn’t going to go as I had planned. I didn’t want to do laundry or clean. I didn’t want to do anything. But at the same time, I wanted to do everything. Thoughts started to race around my head. I remembered that when I get frustrated by this, I’m supposed to get out of my mind. Says the therapist. So, without having my boyfriend or best friend to turn to, I took my dog for a walk. I wanted to go for a long walk, but we took the short path. I was too anxious to go far from home. Unfortunately, my walk didn’t help much. 

When I got home, I sat down on the sofa and just began to cry. Part of me was happy because it’s so rare that I can just cry without having a panic attack. But, mostly, I was sad and frustrated. I couldn’t get out of my mind. It was winning. The mental illnesses were conquering and I didn’t know how to fight. 

I called my dad, in tears, and listened to his advice. Write down a short list of my thoughts, prioritize them, then accomplish them. Step one, get dressed for the day. 

So, I wrote down my list. 

  1. Research hypomania. 
  2. Get dressed. 
  3. Go to coffee shop. 
  4. Research how to turn my blog into a business. 
  5. Go home. 
  6. Clean kitchen. 
  7. Do yoga. 

After doing some research, I went to take a bath in hopes it’d calm me down. While it did make my body feel relaxed, my mind still went wild. It had thought up a new grand business idea, “lets make our own bath bombs to save money! Oh! And then we can sell them!” My illness was behind this idea, clear as day. I have no interest in making bath bombs! I’m lazy as fuck, not gonna happen. Lush, here I come! Thankfully, I knew to discard that thought and continue on. But, then I began to wonder, what thoughts are my own? What thoughts are my illness?

I got dressed, and tried to look nice. But my outfit very much reflected my mind. Something I’m usually proud of, not today. I threw on a total work out outfit. Capri yoga pants, converse, tank top, beanie. But, I decided to pair it with red lipstick and a damn blazer? The hell was I thinking? I actually left looking like that! 

On the way to the coffee shop, I began to feel anxious. Do I drive all the way out of my way just to go to my favorite coffee shop, or do I go to the one just down the street and save some gas? Knowing that I’d probably be driving out of my way sooner or later, I chose the logical choice and went to the nearby coffee shop. Damn, was that a bad idea. As I parked, it set in how crazy I felt I looked. 

After awkwardly ordering my coffee, I went outside so I could smoke and use my computer. There was a lady out there looking more ridiculous than I did, that helped. Not in a rude way, but in an admiring way. I wish I could just look however the fuck I wanted to and not give a damn! That’d be the life. Why do I give a damn? 

I logged into my computer and realized, I’d need a password for the wifi. Can we not just accept the fact that people are going to use the wifi and make it public? Anyway, I was too anxious to go back in there and ask for the password. So, no job search or business research was accomplished. I did try to begin to write a book, but the words just became my jumbled up thoughts. I finished my cigarette and left. 

I contemplated going to the other coffee shop, but decided against it in an effort to save money. It’s odd for me, usually in hypomania is when people spend money. I don’t. I spend it while depressed. 

Anyway, I began to show signs of an anxiety attack. My hand rubbing against my thigh, my breathing getting shallow. These are signs I want to self harm before I can even think about self harming. I lit up another cigarette to keep myself busy. I drank my coffee, even though it burned my tongue. I needed to not hurt myself. 

When I got home, I finished my coffee and took a nap. But one thought remained. “I want to cut myself.” I’m not depressed, I’m not numb, and I’m not lonely, so I made myself think of a valid reason as to why I would cut. The feeling of it was not an option, just because was not an acceptable reason. The only reason I could think of was attention. That’s all I’d gain if I cut myself, attention. And I don’t want attention because I took a knife to my wrist again. 

Then I thought, “what would my boyfriend think?” I could see it going one of two ways. The first, the romanticized option, would be that he’d have to see me tonight. And that he’d get so sad when he saw my wounds, he’d lightly graze them with his fingers, he’d kiss me on the cheek. The second way, the way I’ve come to expect from people, would be that he’d leave me, I’d be too much to handle. Too crazy. 

There’s no way of knowing which way things would go, there’s no way of knowing if he’d do something completely unexpected. But, that chance that he might leave. That one right there, it stopped me. Then, the thought of making him sad, or feel sorry for me. I couldn’t imagine ever making him sad, I don’t want to do that. I do that enough when I share my struggles, I don’t need to add this on top of everything. 

For the first time in months, I thought about someone else. I wasn’t self absorbed. There was nothing in it for me by not cutting, there was nothing in it for me by doing it, either. But, it would affect my relationship in some way. It could possibly hurt the man that cares about me. I really didn’t want to do that. So, yet again, without knowing, he saved me. 

Now, I’m sitting outside. Trying to keep myself busy. I’m sure I’ll go on another walk soon, probably drink too much coffee and smoke too many cigarettes. But, I’m alive and I’m not in physical pain. That’s good enough for me.