Tag: me

My Own Worst Enemy

A Girl In A Complex World
Me and Zoey

After spending the last month in hospital on a psych unit, I’m in my own home tonight. I thought often of writing about my experiences while I was there but each time I would just stare at the blank screen and think things like …

Who really wants to hear about a hospital, much less a psyc unit full of crazy ppl?

What if I’m oversharing?

What if ppl start to look at me as a crazy person now?

Someone who knows me in real life might recognize me and then everyone in town will know things about me and will never look at me the same way again.

You get the idea. So I have not written anything in a month. I’ve kept myself locked up and silenced because of shame.
Well, you know what? Screw everybody! I don’t care what ppl think!

Me and Buddy

Sorry, that’s not very nice of me. I don’t mean that. I really do care what ppl think. I care too much. That’s the problem.

I need to be a little selfish and think of myself sometimes. Particularly about writing. I love to write but I’m so focused on other ppl and what they think that it prevents me from genuinely expressing myself, both in real life and online. I want to work on changing that. I want to write from my heart. I want to be genuine and honest and tell things the way I want to tell them, without shame.

I just want to relax a bit and be myself. I want to let go of the shame and judgment. I truly am my own worst enemy.

Me and David

I Don’t Feel The Same Way You Do

A Girl In A Complex World


Identifying how I’m feeling has always been difficult for me. Although I must admit, I have come a long way in that area in recent years. In the past if you had asked me at any given point how I was feeling I wouldn’t have been able to answer you. I lacked not only the vocabulary necessary to describe the feelings but also the introspection. I had no concept whatsoever of emotions, what they were, or how they felt. I also had no idea that emotions also come with bodily sensations and could actually be felt in the body.



I have a much better understanding these days of feelings, though it’s not something that comes naturally. My first response to how I’m feeling is still the usual “I don’t know”, but I am learning how to pause and go inward. I take a moment to investigate and I can usually come up with something that somewhat describes my current emotional state.

Something else I also struggle with is identifying emotions and facial expressions in other people. I misinterpret a lot and it has led to many misunderstandings. I get insecure about not being able to pick up on emotions in other people so I observe, and I use what I see to figure out what the other person is feeling. The problem with that is that more often than not, I’m wrong. That slight shift in a facial expression does not always mean what I think it does. A raised eyebrow may make me think that the other person disapproves of something I said but that might not be the case at all. The other person may in fact be impressed, surprised, or even intrigued by what I had said.


For a long time I didn’t even know I struggled with emotions. I just thought I didn’t have very many. I’m almost always “OK” if you were to ask. It seems like that’s all I ever knew how to be. I couldn’t identify sadness, joy, excitement, contentment, and certainly not anger. I’ve spent my life so detached from myself that I had no idea these things even existed in me. Growing up I experienced a lot of unwanted emotions and as I got older they seemed to have just flattened out. I stopped feeling the varying intensities and the window of what I could actually feel grew extremely small.

So here I am, at the age of 42, realizing that I don’t know what it actually means to feel a certain way. And I have a very low tolerance for anything that takes me away from “OK”. Sitting with a feeling is a fairly new concept in my world and it’s turning out to be one of the most excruciating things I’ve ever experienced. My system jumps into high alert whenever I sense any sort of emotion inside of me. Whether my heart rate begins to speed up from excitement, fear, anticipation, lust, pain, joy, or whatever else may come up, my brain reacts in a way that propels me towards behaviors that shut it all down. I am working on this though.


A few weeks ago my therapist used the word alexithymia to describe one’s inability to identify and describe emotions. It is a word I had never heard before. I had no idea that my difficulties with emotions were something that other people out there experience as well. I thought it was just another thing I was bad at. One more thing on my never-ending list of character flaws. Something else that other people do with zero effort but requires so much work on my part. Another complexity. Another failure. Another fault.

But I’m beginning to realize that’s not the case at all! Alexithymia is a real thing that is not a character flaw! It’s not because I’m too stupid to understand emotions. It’s not because I’m an air-head, or that I’m dumb, or careless. It’s not because I’m a cold-blooded person who has no heart. It’s something that’s actually more common than I realized. So much so that it has warranted a label of its own.

So I just want to say that if you’re reading this and you find yourself relating to my experience in any way, I encourage you to do a little reading about alexithymia. It might very well help you understand why you feel (or don’t feel) the way that you do. There are a few websites in particular that I found really great at explaining it. I don’t usually post outside links here but if you are interested, feel free to ask and I will gladly share. It could open up a door to a completely new way of seeing things! Please be gentle with yourselves today. You all deserve it!

🦋

That Was Then. This Is Now.

A Girl In A Complex World

I sweep the shower curtain aside. A few water droplets fall from my hair before gliding down over my bare chest. My skin is bright red from the hot water. Steam rolls out through the window that was slightly ajar. It’s been a busy weekend, but it’s over now and we’re back home again.

It’s mid afternoon and David is in lying down, trying to catch a nap before he heads in to work tonight. Last night was a late one for us. Being the designated driver David spent the early hours of the morning taking ppl home. It was almost 4am when our heads finally touched the pillow. 5 hours later we were back in the car again. Thank God we are home. So while he rests, with the dogs curled up beside him, I go off to shower and calm myself down. In my own shower. In my own bathroom. In my own house. Safety.

The scalding water distracted me from the thoughts that had been swirling around in my mind. The tension that was trapped in my body that had been brought on by so much overstimulation, washed off me freely, mixed with the coconut body wash.

But the second I stepped out and my foot touched the towel that was on the floor, something didn’t feel right. The hair rose on the back of my neck. Goosebumps covered my arm and legs. The frantic beating of my heart became confused with memories of someone pounding on the door. Oh my god … there was someone else in the house.

Fear wound itself around me at the thought and circulated within my mind until it flooded my entire body with panic. I pulled the bath towel tighter around me in a lame attempt to suffocate the terror. Then, I reached for the doorknob and my hand lingered there. I couldn’t turn the knob, my mind was bombarded with images of who could be waiting for me on the other side of the door.

I pulled my hand away from the door, my lungs …too paralyzed to breathe. My shoulders trembled as I held back the cry that was threatening to escape from my throat. I forced my hand over my mouth to block it. Backing up, I felt the bench on the back of my legs and I let myself fall onto the seat. What the heck is wrong with me??!

I reached for my phone on the sink next to me. Placing my thumb on the screen it recognized my fingerprint and unlocked itself. I instantly searched for David’s name and opened up a new msg window. I knew he was asleep but assumed the sound of his phone receiving a new msg would stir him. ‘Are you awake?’

I stared at the screen, silently pleading for him to pick up his phone, a feeling of something dreadful happening consumed me. No response. I msged him again. ‘I’m really sorry for bothering you. I know you’re tired, my honey. But can you get up for a minute?’

Still no response. I thought of calling instead. The ring is louder than the new msg notifications. But that would mean I would also be required to speak. I couldn’t do that. My voice was currently non-existent.

A sob got stuck in my throat and my body trembled. I felt the sting of tears on my cheeks. Panic was pulsing through my veins. I thought to myself, “This is insane. There is nothing out there. There is no one out there! This is ridiculous. Why am I so scared??” I remembered that I needed to breathe. I have a tendency to hold my breath in moments like this and have been working on becoming more aware of it. I take in a small, shakey breath through my nose. “That was then … this is now. That was then … This is now.“

I repeated the familiar words to myself several times. I stood up from the bench I had been sitting on, and reached for the doorknob again. As my fingers touched it panic surged, threatening to drown out the mantra i had just been repeating to myself.  That was then … this is now. Slowly I turned the knob and opened it ever so slightly. My chest burned from needing to exhale, but the grip of terror was strangling my throat.

I paused, waiting for that looming, dark figure to inch his way into the bathroom … but he didn’t. And suddenly I realized that it had happened again. My brain had forgotten where we were.

It’s 2024 … you’re in your own house … David is here … he’s asleep … you’re here in your own bathroom …

I turned on the tap and splashed cold water on my face. My lungs began to relax and I took a few shakey breaths. I grabbed my robe and pulled it close around my body, letting the towel fall to the floor. Feeling ashamed and broken I left the bathroom and went to our room. I quietly positioned myself on the bed next to David, sound asleep. A few silent tears fell before I cuddled in closer to his back. The warmth of his body against mine reminded me once again …

That was then. This is now.

Life Has Been Unraveling

A Girl In A Complex World

My mental health has been on a steady decline for a couple of months now. There’s been a lot that’s happened, in succession, and the stress of it all has been accumulating. Trying to manage both physical and mental illnesses why all this life stuff has been coming at me was too much and I crashed. As a result, every area of my life is now suffering.

A little over 2 weeks ago something inside of me just cracked and I attempted to end my life. In a moment of desperation, needing the mental anguish to just stop, I chose what I thought would be the solution.

After spending the past 2 weeks in the hospital, in the Intensive Care Unit, here I am sitting in the car with my husband, as we travel to his parents’ place for a 60th birthday celebration (tomorrow). I was discharged yesterday, after being cleared as well enough to leave. I feel a million miles away right now. Certainly not in the frame of mind for a party. I really don’t want to be around people.

Can I just say one more thing?

Our health care system here in Newfoundland, Canada is … I’m biting my tongue here because every word coming to mind could get me banned from WordPress … so I’m just going to say … it SUCKS.

It’s sad. Based on my own experiences my heart aches for those needing services. If it happened to me then I’m sure it’s happening to countless others. 

In my opinion, if someone almost successfully takes their life and then sits in front of you and says they are not able to function because they are so mentally unwell, I don’t this it’s even sensible to suggest they develop a better sleep routine and that you’ll chat with them in 6 to 8 weeks.

Dude, if you ony knew the half of it ……

The Complexities of Reading

A Girl In A Complex World

Reading is so friggin frustrating. Books used to be my escape.  Growing up I was an avid reader. I never went anywhere w/o a book and I usually had more than one going at a time. There’d be one in my bedroom that I’d be reading, I’d have another that I’d carry around with me and I’d read a few pages whenever I had a few minutes to spare, and then I’d have a 3rd that I would read at night in the bath. I’d soak in a hot bubble bath and read until the water went cold. When I was in high school that’s how I’d also do my studying for exams. And I’d have no trouble whatsoever keeping the storylines straight when switching between books.

Now I can’t even keep focused on one and I hate that. I’d give anything to be able to pick up a book and read like that again.

I love books. The smell of the paper when you open a book for the first time. Mmmm. One of the best smells ever! But reading is super frustrating. It could be a book or an article online. Blog posts. Anything really. Unless it’s something I am extremely interested in. Then I can soak up every single word. But generally, reading is a real challenge.

I will read the page, but after I get to the bottom of that page I realize that I was thinking about something else and didn’t really read the page even though I was reading. I know, sounds stupid.

So, I read it again. I read a few sentences and by the time I get to the bottom of the page … same friggin thing. So I read it over  again … concentrating this time. But I get distracted by the fact that I am concentrating …

By this point, I have read, and absorbed maybe half of the page. This is no exaggeration. In fact, this is more of a watered-down version of actual events.

Like seriously. Something so simple as reading a book is such a frustrating thing for me. I have a shelf, lined with books waiting to be read and all I can do is avoid them.

They merely serve as a reminder of yet another thing that is extra difficult for me.

Who Am I?

A Girl In A Complex World

What is your middle name? Does it carry any special meaning/significance?

My middle name is Danielle, which is the name I mostly go by.

It’s strange, how some parents give their kids multiple names, but choose to put the name they want to acknowledge the child by as a middle name. It has created some interesting situations for me throughout my life.

All legal documents have to use the name given on your birth certificate. Mine is Bridget Danielle. From the time I entered this world my family acknowledged me as Danielle. People who meet me get to know me as Danielle. Growing up I didn’t hear Bridget used at all.

In my teens I thought it would be cool to have a second version of myself so some people started referring to me as Bridget. Depending on who I was with or where I was, my name got switched back and forth.

And to this day both names are used. Close friends and family know me as Danielle, my middle name. If I am dealing with a doctor or specialist at the hospital I’m known as Bridget. At the pharmacy I am Bridget. At the bank I am Bridget. At home I’m called Danielle. At church I’m Danielle. On social media I am usually Danielle.

It all came to be this way when my mom found out I was going to be a girl. Mom was a teen still living with her parents when I was unexpectedly conceived. At the same time my grandparents had just been through an ordeal of their own with another child. They had been in the process of adopting a little girl named Bridget and they were near the end stages of the adoption process when the biological mother changed her mind. My grandparents were devastated. They were so set on being the parents of little Bridget. Everything was ready for them to bring her home. To them, it felt like they had lost their child. Just as if she had died.

Then my mom learns that she is having a little baby girl and my grandparents immediately wanted to name me Bridget. They were set on having a little Bridget in their lives. Mom on the other hand, wasn’t on board with this. She had her heart set on naming me Danielle, after the author she had been obsessed with at the time. You may be familiar with her … Danielle Steele. That’s where my middle name originated from.

Anyways my mother made a compromise. To make everyone happy I was named Bridget Danielle. My grandparents got their little Bridget and my mom got her little Danielle.

And I grew up confused, never knowing from one day to the next who I was supposed to be lol

Breaking Rules

A Girl In A Complex World

I suck at baking. It’s such an exact science, unlike the art of cooking, which is more lenient. Yes, I know there are extremely precise recipes for cooking food. There are also very simple recipes for baking.

Baking is generally exact though. To get the perfect version of a chocolate chip cookie, you must use x amount of baking soda, x amount of butter, x amount of flour, x amount of sugar, x amount of egg yolks/whites etc. But if something doesn’t taste right when cooking, you can add more salt, add some lemon juice, add something that will even the scales. Adding things while baking could cause it to fall apart  – literally.

You need to follow the rules when baking. Maybe the reason I usually suck at baking is because I don’t like to follow the rules.

Interesting thought.

50 Things About Me! ☆Part 2☆

A Girl In A Complex World

26. Can you whistle? Slightly. I can make a sound but that’s about it
27. Where were you born? Grand Falls, NL Canada
28. Any Surgeries? 2 (repair of shoulder following a traumatic arm amputation. And a knee repair)
29. Piercings? 6
30. Shower or bath? Shower
31. Last song you heard? Amazing Love
32. Broken bones? Cheek bones, nose, chin, 5 fractures along my spine, 2 toes
33. How many TV’s in your home? 2
34. Worse pain? Recovering from a car accident was brutal from a physical standpoint. But the worst pain I’ve ever felt was deep within my being. Mental illness was destroying my mind as well as my body and I was crying out to God to let me die. That is a pain unlike any other.
35. Do you like to sing? Yes
36. Are your parents still alive? Yes
37. Do you like to go camping? Love it!!
38. What do you binge watch? All the medical drama shows … 9-1-1/Grey’s Anatomy/The Good Doctor/New Amsterdam etc
39. Favorite Pie? Oooohh. That would definitely have to be cherry
40. Favorite time of day? Sunrise. The darkness is leaving and a new day is dawning
41. Chocolate or vanilla? Definitely vanilla
42. Have you ever been on a plane? Yes. I flew to Ontario to a rehab center then flew back home several months later, clean, sober, and alive!
43. What did you want to be when you grew up? A social worker
44. What is the best job you ever had? I absolutely loved working as an early childhood educator at a local daycare and preschool center
45. Favorite movie? Girl Interrupted
46. Christmas or Halloween? Christmas all the way!!
47. What color is your toothbrush? Purple
48. Bad habits? Skipping meals, not opening mail right away, ignoring the signals my body sends me
49. Last person you hugged? David (husband)
50. What is one thing you could talk about for hours? My dogs!

50 Things About Me! ☆Part 1☆

A Girl In A Complex World


1. Do you put ketchup on hotdog? Not a fan of either
2. Choice of pop? Sprite Zero
3. Do you put salt on watermelon? What?! Ppl actually do that?? Gross!!
4. Can you swim? No. Never learned as a child. Too afraid of losing my breath.
5. How do you eat your steak? Well done
6. Favorite food? Soups
7. Do you believe in ghosts? The Holy ghost and evil spirits
8. What do you drink in the morning? Cranberry juice and water (half and half)
9. Can you do 100 push ups? Hahaha!!!! Yeah right.
10. Summer, Winter, Spring, Fall?  Fall. Gotta love hoodie weather
11. Favourite animal? Dogs! Guinea pigs are a close second
12. Tattoos? 5 (so far)
13. Do you wear glasses? yes but not all the time
14. Do you have any fears in this crazy world? Yeah, more than I’d like to admit
15. Do you have a nickname? Angel
16. Favorite Candy? Gummy bears are the best. Duh. But there’s no candy in existence that I would not try. Especially if they’re sour.
17. Favorite smell? Salt water air
18. Rain or Snow? Snow. The dogs like it better and it’s not as messy
19. Can you change a tire? No. I don’t drive.
20. Favorite flower? I very much prefer house plants
21. Can you drive a stick? Nope
22. Kids? Two (they have 4 legs and lots of fur)
24. Favorite colour? Black or pink
25. Food you refuse to eat? Rabbit meat, seal meat, anything spicy

Squirrel!

A Girl In A Complex World

My mind is constantly shifting, switching from one thought to the next, one memory to the next, one daydream to the next. I admire ppl who can focus on one task at a time and are able to lead productive lives.

I’ve been so frustrated lately with my inability to focus. I find my mind growing full of ideas for blog post topics. I wanted to make writing a central activity in my daily life once Christmas had settled down. I intended to turn writing into a therapeutic practice as well as a hobby. I love writing but I usually lack the motivation. So I decided to put my focus into growing this blog.

The only problem is that I’ve gone from unmotivated and lacking direction to becoming almost borderline obsessed with collecting ideas. I find myself super aware of things around me, even more than usual, as I search for things I can write about that would bring growth and add depth to this site.

See the thing is … while I haven’t been officially diagnosed with ADHD, I have undergone some testing and it has revealed that I do fall on the spectrum. The problem though is that the psychiatrist who I’ve been with is not at all open to the possibility of a new diagnosis. Despite having official testing done by a well respected psychologist, who did multiple different types of clinical tests to see where I am with regard to current diagnosis and other potential diagnostic possibilities … and even though she presented the findings in a written report to the psychiatrist, he was still unwilling to even consider the possibility of a new diagnosis.

Now in saying that, a diagnosis is merely another label. While it has added to the confusion I have about my identity as an individual, having a diagnosis that is agreed on by all the professionals is not completely necessary. It would certainly help me a great deal, that’s for sure! But I already KNOW I have a big problem with distraction. And focusing on one thing at a time is really difficult for me. I don’t need a diagnosis of something to know that.

But you know, I don’t think its a lack of attention that’s my problem. Quite the opposite actually. I feel like I have too much attention. I notice more than my brain is able to fully process at one time. I’m frequently distracted, yes. But not because I can’t pay attention. Its because I’m paying attention to everything. It seems like I hear more and see more and just notice more in general, than other ppl do. And that makes it super hard to fully focus on any one specific thing since I’m being distracted by all the other things that are coming at me at any given time. I have more attention than I know what to do with.

I have no idea if that makes any sense to you who is reading this because I’m trying to make … oh look! Squirrel!!

Oops. Sorry about that. So um, yeah. Where was I? Oh yes. So, I’m trying to make sense out of all of this myself to be quite honest. But if you agree/disagree or even relate in any way, feel free to leave a comment below and share your own thoughts about this topic! I’d love to hear what you have to say about this!

Holiday Blues

A Girl In A Complex World

          Christmas was … different … this year. I usually enjoy the overall feeling of the season but its like that christmassy feeling was non-existent this year. I don’t know if its because I was in the hospital or maybe its because my pain level has been so high, but December month brought a lot of sadness.


          A different kind of sadness though. The kind where it felt as if my heart was literally aching. I found myself frequently holding back tears. There’s been such a deep yearning in my soul. A longing for things I dont have and can’t do. Its the kind of sadness that comes with grieving for a lost loved one, wishing you could have just 5 more minutes with them. Except no one has died. It’s a sadness that reaches right down to my core.


          All the hype about the holidays portrays big, happy families gathered around each other, enjoying lots of food and presents, baking cookies, decorating trees together, small children full of excitement, couples building snowmen and having snowball fights, shopping and buying all sorts of things, and so on. All the images say we should be happy. But what about those who have no family near them and they have very small social circles? Or those who are unemployed and can’t afford to buy things for anyone outside of their immediate family? What about couples going through a divorce? Or those in abusive relationships and live in fear of saying the wrong thing? And, what about those who are not able to have children of their own?

Enjoying some quality time with my good friend’s kidlettes ♡


          David and I went to this one particular event together. A community dinner served by the Evangel Pentecostal Church that was followed by a selection of musical performances. There was another family at our table with their 5 year old little girl and she became the highlight of our night. The joy just emanated from her. She was wearing an adorable red dress, her hair in pig tails, complete with red bows. She was so happy, so excited, so … innocent. 

(Stock photo)

I had a lump in my throat the whole evening, making it very hard to swallow my meal. Santa came and called the kids up front and she was just vibrating with excitement. We watched her as she went up and as she looked over at her mom, waving as they took her picture, I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. It felt like my heart was just shattering inside my chest. I had to excuse myself and blindly made my way to the bathroom, where I covered my mouth and spent a good 5 minutes sobbing, silently. After touching up my make up I went back to the table and sipped coffee as if nothing had ever happened.

I wear the mask quite well.


          Sometimes infertility hits ppl at the most random times and this christmas was one of those times for me. I feel like I have to keep it to myself because I know David deals with a lot of guilt about not being able to give me a child of our own. If he was to see me during these moments it would just make it much worse for him and I don’t want that. Except I also don’t like how isolating this is. I wish I knew how to turn this into something we could go through together. I wish I could let myself be vulnerable and let my own husband see those hurting parts of me. Except I retreat into my shell and hide … the only thing I’m actually good at.

I’m Still Here

A Girl In A Complex World

For the first time in weeks I feel a little bit like myself again. Its probably been more like months but the few weeks have been especially challenging. My mental health has been on a steady decline since the summer came to a close and then I took a nose dive and crashed head first into rock bottom.

There was no one single incident that took place to push me over the edge. I’d been fighting to hold on for a while and my rope just grew so thin that it broke. I’ve been so tired. Just the simple daily stuff has even been too much. Folding laundry had been leading to meltdowns. Once 2 then 3 baskets became filled with clean clothes I’d sit and cry because there was no basket for the dirty stuff. My husband walked in one day and found me sitting on the couch with a towel in my hand, sobbing. I had gotten out of the shower and our 3 laundry hampers were filled with clean clothes so there was nowhere to put my towel or dirty clothes. Folding it felt so far beyond what I was mentally able to process. I thank God for my incredible husband who stepped in and took it over, while I sat there crying and holding on to the towel.

Eating. Drinking. Walking. Talking. Even breathing felt pointless.

And sleep. I don’t know how long I had been without sleep but I know I was into night 3 at least because my husband was working his 3rd 12 hour shift that night and I hadn’t been to bed at all during that stretch of time. I had been purposely avoiding food and water because in the back of my mind I was thinking that the weaker I could make my physical self … the more tired and worn out and deprived I could become … the faster my body would give up at the end.

I had every aspect of my death planned out. How I was going to do it, where I would be, what I would be wearing, precise timing of everything, who would find me, details about my funeral wishes were written down and placed in my wallet with my ID and other important cards, etc

What I didn’t take into consideration was how weak and worn out I actually was. And the apathy … I didn’t care. I was completely shut down. I had been experiencing waves of emotion in between the numbness but for 3 days straight I was a zombie. I just gave up caring.

So those things paired with all the despair and brokeness I had been feeling resulted in a week long stay on the intensive care unit then a transfer to a different hospital an hour away, which is the only place that has a psychiatric inpatient unit in our district. And that’s where I’ve been for the past few  weeks.

Being in the hospital is a challenge all by itself. But today I ventured out of my room and wandered into the main lounge where several staff members were putting up the Christmas tree. A security guard came with a guitar and began singing. After a while I joined in and for the first time since my Nan’s funeral 2 years ago, I sang in front of a group of people.

Today, I feel hope.

All Flared Up

A Girl In A Complex World

My pain level has been pretty extreme the past couple of days. I was diagnosed with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) around 7/8 years ago, after being in a pretty bad car crash. Many of my injuries fully healed while others became permanent problems. So the pain receptors in my brain are all messed up. They frequently send signals around my body, that basically scream DANGER, and various parts of me act as if they’re suddenly being crushed and shredded and ripped apart.

So that’s where I’m at today. On the couch with a heated blanket wrapped around me (many thanks to my clothes dryer!), my 2 dogs close by, hot lemon ginger tea, a bottle of morphine, and Netflix. But I feel like I’m about to lose my freakin mind! I can’t stand not being able to do stuff. To be still and quiet and just relax … its actually painful. Mentally painful. So I’m pretty well maxed out in the pain department today. I can’t say I’m overly surprised by this though.

Different things trigger these flare ups and determine the severity. Many times I don’t know what it was but sometimes I do. Right now though my guess would be stress. My mental illness is trying really hard to destroy me and my body has been on the receiving end of some not so healthy attempts to make myself not feel it. I never anticipated though that a bump on my head would cause my entire body to overreact like this. But here we are.

Do You Have An Anchor In Your Toolbox?

A Girl In A Complex World

Sometimes I need to be reminded of things that are outside of this particular moment. I get so caught up in what I’m feeling right now or I get stuck in a memory loop, where I have one specific flashback that plays repeatedly, consuming me … I forget that I have an entire life outside of this place where I’m stuck. That’s where I have been discovering that any type of visual reminder, of a positive moment, helps me to become grounded. I have added a few videos and pictures to a folder on my phone and I’ve been sitting here in my bathroom, watching the videos on repeat.

This one shows a moment from this summer that has stayed with me very vividly. The way I felt in that moment was something I became very mindful of so I’m guessing that’s why I can feel it to be so real. I had been walking the beach near my house and my 2 dogs were with me. We’d had 2 days of rain so they were super happy to be outside and get to run around. When I stopped I took in all of my surroundings and I felt such an incredible warm feeling run through the center of my chest. Everything in that moment bordered on perfection. The direction of the sun, the temperature, the light breeze in my hair, the warmth from the sun shining down on my face, my dogs barking after each other as they zoom past me to chase each other through the salt water …

There are always things that you can cling to in moments of difficulty that can serve as an anchor. You might have one specific thing or many different ones. Whatever the case might be, use them. If you have to watch a 17 second video 29 times in a row to get the trembling in your bones to stop, then do it. You so deserve to be reminded of these moments of joy when the weight of depression is trying to crush you.

Having achors to keep you grounded is a great tool to have in your toolbox. One of my go-to skills.

Just sayin’.

I’m (not) OK

A Girl In A Complex World

This song hit me like a ton of bricks last night. See, I have this thing about always saying I’m ok. If I was on the floor, crying, and bleeding I would still look up at you and tell you that I’m ok. It seems like those are the only 2 words that exist in my vocabulary sometimes.

So last night I was in a pretty dark mood and instead of seeking out positive things to draw out a lighter mood, I was like … screw this DBT stuff. I was angry but no idea why. And the sadness was so heavy that it was almost tangible. I opened up youtube and just started going from one song to another and then this one started playing.

It amazes me how music can so accurately speak for me when the words aren’t there. At the beginning of every session my therapist asks me how I am doing and my automatic response is … I’m okay. Every. Single. Time. Because I don’t have the words to accurately answer her question. To be honest, I don’t think I know how to be anything other than ‘okay’.

So for now, I’ll let the lyrics of this song say it for me. And while it plays quietly in my ear I’ll just keep smiling and telling you … I’m okay.

Tonight the monsters in my head
Are screaming so damn loud
But I built walls so high
So they never even make a sound

It’s a mask, it’s a lie
It’s the only home I’ve ever known
‘Cause being who I really am
Has only left me more alone

I am not okay
And I need you to see it
I have so much to say
And no one to hear it
The reason I keep quiet
With so much at stake
I always feel like a burden, let it silence me
You’ll never understand
Why it’s so hard to say
I’m not okay

I wish I had a scar
Had a bruise on the surface, any kind of proof
That everything I feel is more than just some sad excuse

My life’s invisible abuse
I’m either judged or have to hide
The only symptom you can see
Is I don’t wanna be alive,

I am not okay
And I need you to see it
I have so much to say
And no one to hear it
The reason I keep quiet
With so much at stake
I always feel like a burden, let it silence me
You’ll never understand
Why it’s so hard to say

I’ll never have the words, I can’t explain this hell
But what if it kills me
If I keep it to myself?
To myself

I am not okay
And I need you to see it
I have so much to say
And no one to hear it
I am not okay
I am not okay
I’m never safe
It’s not a phase
If I finally break
Would you still stay?

Choosing Life

A Girl In A Complex World

The first time I thought about taking my own life I was 14. The first time I harmed myself I was 10. This is the reality of a 20 year battle with my health and truthfully, I’m still fighting.

I’ve struggled with being different my entire life. My insecurities have pushed me so far that I lost all value of my life. Sometimes I get a glimpse of what freedom looks like without feeling the guilt and shame for being different, but that’s all it is, a glimpse. I know that being different is a part of what makes me who I am. But the struggle to actually appreciate that is definitely real.

I don’t claim to live a life free of pain and frustration or even sickness. But I have grown a lot. My heaviness now coexists with a will to fight, and the fighter in me will have the final word.

Every day that I wake up is proof that I’m still fighting. Every hour that I don’t engage in self harm as a means of coping means that I’m still fighting. Every minute that I choose to speak truth even when my mind is screaming lies is proof that I’m fighting. But also, when I have a setback, it’s yet another chance for me to fight … again.

My reality includes a list of diagnoses that include mental illness and chronic pain, AND my reality is that I’m a complex girl who is the epitome of different, who is CHOOSING life. Everyday. And I promise you, no matter what it is that breaks you, hurts you, and makes you feel like giving up – your life is worth choosing, too.

The End Of Summer

A Girl In A Complex World

So far, September is seeming to be much less eventful than August was. I need to buckle down and get myself back into some sort of routine though. The whole month of August was nuts and routine was non-existent. But without it, I feel like I’m just aimlessly seeking out the next thing to do, not really accomplishing anything at all. I started this blog around the same time life threw me a few curve balls and I haven’t been able to put much time into writing here but hopefully that will change now.

August was eventful, to say the least. There’s been very little downtime as we’ve been really busy with various activities and events.  As someone who deals with fairly intense anxiety on a regular basis, I’m feeling quite overwhelmed with everything now. Its like everything that’s been happening the past few weeks just hit me full force this weekend and I feel like I’ve had the wind knocked out of me. I’d like to lock myself in a cool, dark, room so that I can just sleep for a while. My brain is buzzing and I need everything to just stop for a few minutes. Its so loud inside my head. Its such a strange feeling and rather difficult to describe. I imagine that there’s an electric current running through my veins, causing my insides to vibrate, and it brings with it a level of physical pain.

Speaking of pain, I’m still trying to heal from a wrist injury, that resulted from a careless move on my part. Typing with 2 fingers has become a new skill of mine. As a left arm amputee, my right hand is a part of me that I can’t risk having trouble with. That’s the last thing I need!

In August I also learned that I had a minor heart attack. Question  … how does one have a heart attack, even a minor one, and not know it?? Not sure, but apparently I did. The dr himself even found this mind boggling. He was a nice guy though. So that was a relief. I have a hard time with doctors. Pretty much anything medical, really. Which tends to make things complicated because the past couple of years I have had more than my fair share of dealings with medical practitioners. This heart attack thing has me reeling though. They are saying that nothing actually appears wrong with my heart and that it was brought on by a combination of intense anxiety and an electrolyte imbalance. When you have an eating disorder you know that there are dangers associated but you don’t actually think any of it will happen. Until it does. Shit becomes real then.

There have been lots of changes in my life this summer and it doesn’t take much to throw me out of my  routine. Even the slightest shift in plans often throws me off. I’m fairly positive though that despite a few bad decisions and the use of some old, negative coping skills (hence my injured wrist) I feel like I’ve handled things fairly well. And the highlight in August was an opportunity to go on vacation for a week … and it was pure bliss!

We drove east for 7 hours, out to the Burin Peninsula, to a place called Golden Sands Resort. We rented a cabin there for the week. During our days there we were able to visit 7 different towns and in each place we explored all that the town had to offer. We did everything from hiking trails and museums to sitting on the beach and watching the sunset. We visited 5 lighthouses and ate Newfoundland’s #1 cheesecake (and iced coffee of course!) in the most adorable little coffee shop I’ve ever seen. It was the highlight of not just the summer, but of my entire year.

So as you can see, August was a bit hectic. I’m grateful for this new month but at the same time I feel a little sad. The hours of sunlight are decreasing and the evening temperatures are getting cooler. Fall is coming, which brings us even closer to winter. The very thought of the dark days of winter makes me feel sick. But right now it is September and I’m going to make the most of every bit of it!

Accumulating Moments

A Girl In A Complex World

Nothing fills me with gratitude any more than moments like this. I’ve learned a lot of different lessons in my lifetime yet its always the simple things that I keep going back to. You can strive for all the fame and fortune humanly possible but the moments you spend with the ones who matter most to you will forever be the most valuable things one could ever accumulate in their lifetime. This has become exceedingly evident to me over the past year. Appreciate where you are and what you have b/c in a split second everything can change.

Who Am I?

A Girl In A Complex World

I have adapted most of my life. Constantly shifting from one persona to the next, always changing masks to meet the expectations of the current environment. I’ve always carried the belief that the less amount of ME that is brought to each situation, the better.

That belief system has been the cause of a tremendous amount of heartache. my addiction. I have been completely disconnected from any source of inner guidance, just moving from one moment to the next as quietly as possible, in an attempt to go unnoticed.

Today I saw this quote:

In order to be the same person privately, publicly and personally … you must get to know that person ALTOGETHER.

It stopped me in my tracks. I have no idea who I am. In a 24 hour period I have multiple masks that I wear. I always feel the need to hide myself and after doing it for so long I’ve lost contact with the person underneath.

If I could meet one person in the entire world, it would be … myself.