30 Day Self Harm Challenge: Day 1

So the 30 Day Self Harm Challenge is a list of 30 questions about your personal experiences with self harm.  I've decided to follow along with it and answer the questions daily via my blog.  My purpose is to raise awareness and/or help anyone in need.  As I usually note, these are my personal experiences, so if you have any questions or concerns, please come straight to me and not my family. I am not ashamed or scared to answer anything.  Also, let me remind you that I am clean and have been for a short while now.  So here goes!

Question 1: How long have you been self harming?  Discuss why you started.

Okay, this one's a tough one.  I remember the first time I cut myself in high school...maybe sophomore year, which is about 9 years ago.  it was mostly just to feel the experience.  I don't recall being very depressed at the time.  It started to get bad moreso when I was in college.  I was confused, not accepting of myself or the people around me, I had a 2 year failed relationship under my belt.  I can't really say for sure 'this is why I started.'  It just started happening.  

Home Is Where My Crazies Are

I've never actually been nervous to write a blog before, but this one is a little different.  A little more personal; a little more intense.

I'm sure some of you will have some questions for me.  Mostly because only my closest of friends and close family know about this.  I urge you, if you do have any questions or concerns, please bring them straight to me.  Don't go calling my mother and asking her 30 questions about my personal experience.  I'm not reluctant to talk about this with anyone who is curious.

This story is being told in hopes to maybe help others who continue to struggle, and maybe to help myself a little bit, in a way.

As you've seen in my more recent blogs, I had been struggling once again with my mental state.  On August 13th, my friend Kate came over to talk to me about my isuues.  I really hadn't been doing well.  Not eating much, anxious and nervous 24/7, no sleeping for weeks or having to take 2-3 doses of Zzzquil to get some rest, over exerting myself physically and mentally, crying all the time, both at home or at work, etc. In my mind, I was handling my depression and anxiety as well as possible.  I was exercising a ton (lifting and then running 3-4 miles a night to exhaust myself), writing, talking to friends, some family...I was running out of things to do in a healthy manner and none of it was controlling my stress and sadness.  It started to scare me that I couldn't be alone without freaking out.  When Kacey wasn't home, I was scared to be on my own.  I had panic attacks and mental breakdowns when I was by myself.  It had been weeks that I'd been feeling so overwhelmed and upset, I just couldn't take it anymore.

So anyways, like I said, Kate came over to talk to me about this, and possibly give me some advice and choices as to where I go next.  Basically, if I wasn't feeling better by the next day, she offered to take me to Windsor Laurelwood, which is a behavioral health center nearby my apartment.  My first thought was 'yeah right I'm not crazy,' of course.  I told her I'd make my decision in the morning, thinking I wouldn't even go there.  That night, I went for a 4 mile run, and walked 4 miles home.  I cried the whole walk home, knowing that I had to accept that I couldn't try to control this on my own anymore.  I needed help, and fast, or I was going to end up hurting myself or dead.

The next day rolled around and I really wasn't feeling much better.  I went to work in the morning, prepared for a long day of football two a days and soccer scrimmages.  I felt in a fog, trying to suck my tears back all day.  I called my psychiatrist to see if I could get an appointment ASAP to talk about getting back on medication.  The closest appointment was September 18th...well it was August 15th and I had a feeling I wouldn't even make it that long.  So I freaked out, texted Kate, and said I need to go to the hospital.  I called my soccer coach and broke down in front of him, I broke down in front of the principle, I called a coworker and had him talk to my boss.  I was preparing to take the rest of the week and weekend off to check myself into the hospital.

I drove home and got a call from my mom, asking if I was okay and if I thought that maybe I needed to get back on medication again.  I played it cool and lied.  I never wanted to admit defeat to my parents so I just told her I'm fine and we hung up with each other.  I got home and packed a bunch of clothes and whatnot.  I couldn't believe I was about to check into a mental hospital..

Kate picked me up and took me in.  I had to have an assessment done before they decided to admit me.  Telling someone I don't even know all of my feelings was weird.  I'm not sure she even cared, but Kate was next to me the whole time  while I cried and spilled my thoughts out.

The lady gave me a gown and socks.  I couldn't wear my clothes until they went through all of my personal belongings.  I had to say bye to Kate, knowing as soon as she left, she was going to call my mom and break the news.  When she walked out the door I lost it.  Walking through the cold white brick hallways, looking at the patients that I was going to be spending the next number of days with, just all so overwhelming.

They put me in a small room by myself, where I was talked to for about an hour by an older nurse.  She was very sweet and I could tell she cared, but I kept having to answer the same questions over and over.  'What was your plan to hurt yourself?'  'Are you homicidal?'  'What are you feeling?' 'Do you want to hurt yourself now?' Blah blah blah can I just take a minute to collect my thoughts and be alone???  Then they had to strip search me and mark down all of my tattoos, piercings, and scars.  'What are the scars from?'  Lady you already know the answer to that.  Move on.  After that, they put me in the little sitting area of our block (1500).  I sat down and cried.  I tried not to stare at all the patients and they walked by.  People were talking to themselves and acting weird and saying weird shit.  I was so freaked out I wanted to walk out and never come back.  An older lady started talking to me.  She was a patient, probably in her 60s.  She said she'd been there for a while, and kind of gave me the low down on some of the patients.  She introduced me to my roommate- a lady in her 80s wearing some bad ass sunglasses named Joyce.

Mid conversation- my parents both walked in.  I forgot the night I went in was the 1 night for visiting hours.  I can't even express or explain the way my heart dropped into my stomach when I looked at them.  Their daughter sitting in a hospital gown in a mental hospital...I immediately lost it and bawled my eyes out, grabbing for my mother to hug me.  She started crying, I could barely look at my dad, but I just cried and he held me.  After the awkward crying moments, we had a real conversation.  I explained to them what was going on in my head and heart, and my mom said 'Well I just want to tell you, Kate came over last night and told us what was going on.  You have a really good friend in her.' They said they saw me as strong for checking myself in, that not a lot of people have the strength to admit they need help.  They told me not to worry about anything at home or work, that now I need to concentrate on getting better.

Hugging them goodbye hurt, but it gave me relief that they knew and were supportive and helpful.  I could breathe easy knowing that I had nothing to worry about at home.  I asked a girl working there if I could have my clothes yet.  She asked if I wanted all my strings cut out of my shoes and pants.  Uhhh...leave my shoes alone but do what you must with my pants??? We weren't allowed to have strings or razors or anything like that apparently, woops.  The nurse gave me an Adavan to calm my nerves, and I was told I'd be seeing my doctor the next day to figure out my medications and all that good stuff.

I finally got my clothes and my room, and started writing.  I didn't know anyone so I really didn't want to leave my room, but then I heard the workers yelling 'courtyard,' so I went out to see what that meant.  Everyone was lined up to go outside so I joined and started talking to a few people.  I became close with a few people that night, just getting to know each other because we were all in the same situation.  These people seemed relatively normal compared to some of the other patients...so I decided I'd try to just hang with them for the rest of my stay.

We had to be in bed by 10:30 that night.  They gave me an Ambien to help me sleep, but it didnt help much when people walk into your door every 15 minutes to check on you.  They woke me up at 4am to take blood and my blood pressure. 

Finally, the next day, I got to talk to my doctor about everything.  He was very cool and helpful.  He got me started on Cymbalta during the day and Seroquil for night time.  I never wanted to be on medication again, but sometimes people just need it.  I had to accept it at that time.  I just wanted to feel better.

The rest of my stay there was kind of a blur.  It was kind of the same schedule for every day- breakfast lunch and dinner at the same time every day, group meetings 3 times a day, down time, outside time like 6 times a day, medicine at the same time every day, bed at the same time...

But like I said, I kind of made a crew during my stay.  There was this little group of people who hung out all the time- me, Tamara, Brandi, Brian, Bear, Jay, Mikey, Fay...we all kinda just kinda sat around and talked to each other about our past lives, our lives now, what we're in for, other random BS...we played spades and jenga every night.  Life didnt seem so bad surrounded by people with the same issues as yourself, or even worse issues.

Sometimes it got scary...Sometimes people had episodes, there was a few fights that got nerve wracking.  Some people got moved to higher security blocks. 

When Bear was asked why he was there, he told us he's on vacation.  I guess it was almost like a mini vacation with shitty food and a bunch of crazy strangers. 

My favorite memory of all time was when the nurse told me my parents were there to pick me up Sunday morning.  Everyone in the 1500 block slow clapped me out the door.  I'll never forget it. 

All I had to do was get better, and I did.  By the last day I was ready to go.  I was nervous to be home again, but ready to take all the stuff I learned and utilize it.   I will never forget the experience I had at Laurelwood.  I dont regret going, I dont feel weird talking about it anymore.  I needed help and I got it.  Not only from the doctor, the meds, or the group meetings, but from the friends I made there, and the friends and family on the outside world doing whatever it took to take care of my stuff while I was gone.

I am normal.  I'm not crazy. I am strong. 

I'll leave you with one of my favorite quotes from a patient there.  He was a bit off, but arent we all?? "Guess what I got up my sleeve.  I gots myself up my sleeve."

Love you guys.

Open Ears and Open Eyes...

...Wake up to your starboard bride

Who goes in and then stays inside

Oh the demons come, they can subside.

On December 6, 2011, I wrote a blog about my best friend who had just been diagnosed with brain cancer.

I can't say how long it was that we had stopped talking.  We had a significant falling out with each other over some dumb stuff before she had a craniotomy, where they removed 80% of her tumor.  I had intentions of keeping in contact with her, even after the falling out, but our friendship slowly faded into the mist of time.

Earlier in the year, probably around March, she attempted to contact me via text, saying she would like to be friends, but with a hardened heart, I turned that idea away and wished her well after all that had happened between us.

That was probably the most selfish thing I've ever done. I just turned someone away who was my best friend and sister for years.  I couldn't leave the past in the past, forgive and forget, or move on.  Honestly, I had thought about what I said pretty much every day thereafter.

Tonight, I went out to dinner with my mom and two of my aunts that I don't see very often.  They usually get together for dinner only a few times a year to catch up.  Most of the time I have something else going on, but felt that I really needed this tonight because of shit that's been going on recently.

They asked if I was okay and said they were worried about me.  We talked about the usual family gossip, talked about jobs and friends and whatnot.  Then we came to talking about my cousin's suicide, which i also blogged about on March 28, 2012.  Talking about it is painful still, especially the fact that I have felt that low many times in my life, that I probably know how my cousin felt before she passed away.  The pain in my aunt's eyes as she stated that she can never get over this and how much she still thinks about it really got to me.  I held back tears as we talked about it, and again I was reminded how precious life is and how little time we have on this earth.  I was reminded never to take people for granted that love you, and never leave them behind, because you really just don't know when it's their time or your time.

During the conversation, I decided that it was time to text my old friend in attempt to apologize and try to maybe fix things if possible.  Somehow I remembered her number off the top of my head.  She immediately offered to have me over her apartment to talk tonight.  I was pretty taken aback by her open arms and willingness to get together.  I drove to her place and was pretty nervous.  I hadnt really spoken to her or seen her in probably close to a year, maybe more.  I wasnt sure if things would be awkward and silent, or if we'd just fall back into being like old times. 

She opened the door and I pretty much just wanted to cry, but our usual sarcastic and hilarious banter prevented any tears at the beginning.  We're still hilarious after all this time, just saying.  We talked about old funny and ridiculous memories.  She whipped out the Kwanza book I bought her for Christmas one year.  Yep that happened. 

But we got down to the actual deep conversation.  She told me things that she has been through and endured since her craniotomy.  All I could think was what a terrible person I was for not being there through everything and I cried and apologized a few times I believe.

We talked for over an hour and caught up on as much as possible.  She lent me some good advice about some of the stuff I am going through presently.  We always understood each other's stupid bullshit and that didnt seem to change much.  We promised to keep in touch and hang out and catch up.

I texted her when I got home to apologize again.  She said no need anymore, that all we can do from here on out is make up for lost time.

I feel relieved, thankful, and happy tonight, like another weight has lifted off my shoulders.  Stupid shit isn't worth losing a friend over, especially not a best friend.  Nothing's worth it.  Friendship is everything.  Losing a friend is just stupid.  It's stupid and should never happen, you know, unless they murder your family or whatever.

I want to continue to mend broken relationships that I once had, fix stupid shit in my life, and I want to continue to progress forward.

I have a lot of work to do in the near future, but I vow to do things to make life more enjoyable and happy. 

I want you all to read all this and think about your lives as well.  Call it a personal favor.

Goodnight <3

Can't

The word "can't" is such a subjective thing. 

How many times has someone told you that you can't?  Better question- how many times have you told yourself you can't?

We're all guilty of it, obviously myself included numerous times.

I had a pretty extensive shoulder surgery in May of 2012 after completing an 8 week cycle of training my ass off.  My labrum was torn from 12-6 oclock posteriorly, and on top of that, he tightened my shoulder capsule.  He told me I would never be able to bench or overhead press again.  I took that to heart, really, but assured myself I would again regardless.

After months and months of grueling and painful rehab, I lost a majority of the range of motion in my shoulder.  I was diagnosed with adhesive capsulitis, something people my age don't usually get.  I was supposed to have another surgery last November to scope out scar tissue and manipulate my shoulder to regain the range of motion I no longer had.  I, instead, chickened out, and had a less invasive (but probably more painful) procedure, where they injected my shoulder capsule with fluid until it burst open like a water balloon.  Well that failed as well, and I'm sitting here still stuck with less than satisfactory range of motion.

After over a year of not lifting a weight, and after all this bullshit I've been handed recently, a good friend and awesome trainer got me off my ass to start training with him at Titan's Gym.  I was reluctant at first because, a) I was extremely depressed and didnt want to do shit, b) was embarrassed at how undertrained I am, and c) didnt think I could lift heavy ever again because my doc told me I CANT.

I've only been back training for 5 days, and I can tell you that I squatted ass to grass with 95 lbs, benched 65, and deadlifted 155.  Not to mention, today I was able to overhead press with 2 20 pound dumbells.  None of these are even close to my old personal records, but they are all a great start, and a small amount of weight compared to where Jay and I will get myself. 

I was told I cant, and I fucking did, and I will continue to.


A few years back, my psychiatrist put me on 3 different medications- 2 for depression and 1 for anxiety.  My first question to her was "when will i be able to get off these medications?"  Her answer- "You will be on these for the long run." In other terms- you CANT get off them.

When I decided I wanted to get off of them, I emailed my psychiatrist to tell her I am taking myself off the medications.  All of them.  For good.  No more.  She told me I CANT without consulting with her first- which means another few doctor's visits, another stack of medical bills.  I never went back, and successfully took myself off the medications.  It took a long ass time, and I swear to science I thought I was going to die from the withdrawals, but I made it.  I've been off all medications since I think March of this year or around then. 

I was told I cant, and I fucking did. 

Yeah I may be struggling at this point.  I'm having bad and good days- right now, mostly bad, but that'll change one day. 

The gym has become my safe haven again.  Training again is making me both physically and mentally stronger every day.  When I walk into the gym, the anxiety and depression go away, and I walk out feeling confident and happy again.  Even if it's for a little while, having those few hours to be mentally and physically awesome helps.  And I swear to the almighty flying spaghetti monster- I WILL NOT GO BACK TO BEING ON MEDICATION.  EVER AGAIN.

So fuck the word can't.

Have a lovely evening and weekend.


Love you guys.  All of you.

Keep Breathing

I'm sure most of you have seen my less than positive posts recently. 

I hate negative stuff but sometimes you just have to get it out.  So I guess I'll bare my soul tonight.  Writing usually helps, and maybe some positive feedback and advice from my friends will help.

When it rains, it pours, right? 

Seems like everything is crashing down around me recently and I'm just overwhelmed and lost. I'm scraping by with bills, not really enjoying my job or career path, derby is over for a while. 

On top of that, my boyfriend dumped me.  I won't go into the specifics because I don't want anyone saying bad things about him.  I still love and respect him.  But this whole situation was out of my control and really happened faster than I remember.  I don't recall ever taking a breakup this hard specifically.  I think maybe the older you get and the more heartbreaks you've been through, the harder it becomes to be left in the dust.  To go through as much as he and I did, and then wake up and no longer have that, has really brought me to my knees.  I take breakups harder than most people do, mostly because I truly believe I give my all when I'm with somebody. 

My roommate says that being dumped is the second worst feeling in the world, following only the death of someone close.  She's very correct. 

Everyone has a purpose in life and I have always thought mine was to love and be loved by someone.  The more this happens, the more I feel my purpose fades away.

You can sit there and tell me I'll get over it and move on, find someone "better," blah blah blah, but saying that to someone who has given everything and been through this much with a person is really ignorant and unhelpful, especially if you are still so in love with that person. You don't just get up and move right along like it never happened...well, I guess some people do if they don't give a shit about their recent ex.  To know that your ex is completely fine being without you after being with them for a long time is pretty crippling to say the least.  

People say take him off facebook, delete his number, out of sight out of mind.  Easier said than done.  Deleting a person out of your social networking and phone book doesn't ease the pain.  It just makes you realize that they're gone and you miss them even more, that you can't ever see or talk to them again.  It heightens the awareness of being without them.  Not to mention I live next to him.  That doesn't help.

Havent really told my parents anything.  My dad still asks how he's doing, and I just answer "fine."  I'm sure my mom knows, just because she's my mom.  I don't like to cry to her for things like this.  I don't like to cry in front of my parents in general.  I've had one mental breakdown to my mom over a year ago and it was painful to see how scared and upset she was for me.  I am weary of doing that to her again, but I decided I'm going to open up with her tomorrow and get it all out there.  Regardless, she'll back me up.  I'm pretty good at putting on a facade with my parents.  I'm good at sucking it up and holding it all in in general around people who see me as a strong person. Maybe that just needs to stop. Maybe I just need to stop faking being strong and happy all the time.

With all that is crashing down before me, and how poorly I am handling it, I have given myself a few options.  I'm fighting myself with a few.

A) Take a staycation at the local mental health facility. 
B) Call my psychiatrist and get back on some, if not all, of my medications.
C) Stay with my brother and sister in law or my parents place for a little bit for a change of scenery.
D) Tough it out and deal with the crippling anxiety and depression, the mental breakdowns, the random crying, etc.
E) Move to Washington to live with my friend permanently when my lease is up for a new start.

Before you all say option D stay strong bro!  Realize that I have been doing everything in my power to control my anxiety and breakdowns.  I am getting back in the gym and attempting to lift heavy again with the help of a friend/trainer/lifter.  I'm keeping myself busy with my friends and family as much as I can.  I have my dog keeping me company.  I'm leaning on people.  I'm writing again.  Doing all the things that you'd think would help.  Things haven't proved to get better. 

I've been off all my medications for a while now, but I was the happiest and most comfortable I've ever been at that point.  I was advised by my doctor not to take myself off of them, and I guess shit like this is why.  I'd like to think I don't need them anymore, but when you feel like this, I start to think differently.

I've been so anxious that I couldnt eat and dropped 7 lbs (I did start eating again semi normally).  Ive been sick to my stomach, not able to sleep, having panic attacks and random breakdowns, having to take Zzzquil every night...I don't want that anymore. 

So I guess I'm looking for some input from my friends.  Yes, ultimately the decision is mine.  Regardless, I will still keep doing healthy things to help me, so no one go freak out on me or anything, but I am really struggling at this point.  Today and tonight have pretty much been rock bottom for me, which is why I'm writing to you.

Thanks guiz.

Rookie Season

Well, so ends my rookie season as a derby girl with the Burning River Roller Girls.  Last night, we played an amazingly hard fought game, but ended up losing 142-141.  Pretty heartbreaking to lose by only 1 point, but what can you do?

Derby has changed my life.  I was inspired by someone who follows his dreams no matter what.  Without his support, I doubt I would have even tried.  I remember being so nervous the first time I went to a recruitment.  I knew no one and nothing about the sport.  I had no gear.  But I made some good friends that day, they helped me buy my gear, they took me to open skates and practices, they helped me understand the game, etc.  

Mid season tryouts are tough.  Basically, you have to have your shit together to make the league mid season.  I did it.  I made the league.  I had been on skates for maybe 2-3 months, but I'm lucky that I grew up rollerblading and playing various sports.  Very very helpful.  

 I was put on the Pyromaniacs, the farm team of BRRG.  I loved every one of the ladies on the Pyros. We worked well together and leaned on each other.  I skated my first bout vs. a team from Canada alongside the Pyros.  Scored 38 points in one jam in that bout.  We lost, but hell it was freaking fun.

BRRG had a mid season draft for the home teams.  I wasn't sure I would be drafted because I was so new to everything.  On draft night, I waited what seemed like forever staring at my phone.  I received a phone call from the coaches of the Rolling Pin-Ups.  I mean, my reaction was like WHAAAAAAAAT?!  I really didn't know what to say, but I was freaking drafted.  Epic.

The Pin-Ups were undefeated when I joined the team.  I played my first bout with them vs. the Steamers and we won.  It felt so amazing.  I had to miss our regular season bout vs. the Hellbombers due to my brother getting married and all...I sat at the head table at the reception and stared at the twitter updates of the game.  We lost by 5 points in overtime.   Sad that I wasn't able to be there.

So now starts the championship bracket.  My Pin-Ups were seeded #1 :)  We played the Steamers in the semi finals, and won.  Mind you, there was no AC in the building, and it had to have been a 90+ degree day.  My coaches threw me in as a jammer a few times.  I scored 29 points my first time being a jammer as a Pin-Up.  I was lead jammer 2/3 times I went up there.  Felt so amazing to be able to do that...although I was completely dead by the end.

In my last scrimmage before the championship game, I had the amazing opportunity to skate alongside a few of the Vienna Roller Girls.  These women traveled from Austria for a cross USA tour, and we happened to be one of their stops.  Coolest thing ever.  The derby community is like no other.

Last night was the championship game.  Like I said, we lost BY ONE POINT.  We were down 15-25 points pretty much the whole game, but worked our asses off to close the gap.  The game literally came down to the last second.  Next year...next year...

Now I'm on derby break for 2 months...What the hell am I gonna do with my life now?!

Anyways, Season 7, my rookie season, has been amazing.  I feel like I've grown so much since I made the league in January.  I can't wait to come back stronger than ever in a few months.  

See you on the track:)

Nothing Can Hurt Me Today

Hello everyone!  Hope you had a magical Saint Patrick's Day!

I'm writing today because on March 18, 2011 (two years ago from today) I was diagnosed with severe depression, anxiety, and an eating disorder.  I know I've written about this many times before, but today is a super special day for me.  I can now say that I have conquered the hardest part of my life this far.  I am off all of my medications finally.  I finished weaning off of the antidepressants a few weeks back thankfully.  That was such a long and physically taxing process, but I did it all on my own.   

Sometimes I wonder how everything got so bad.  I mean I know there were a few things that sparked the flame, but to get to that extreme...I just don't know.  And trust me, I didn't just snap out of it in one day.  What I've been thinking about mostly today is that I never had anyone really tell me that being sad is completely normal.   I never had anyone say that life sucks sometimes and that I don't have to be happy at that moment.  No one ever said that they understand what I'm going through and that they'll just listen to me whenever.  (mind you I hid this well from my family so I didn't go to any of them for help).  Firstly I had a boyfriend at the time threaten to never talk to me again if I didn't get on medication.  Being on medication at first helped so much that I built up the strength to dump him out of my life for being a controlling asshole.  I dated two people who claimed they cared and loved me, but left me without thinking twice when times got hard.  That took so much out of me.  They made me feel so abnormal and like I didn't deserve someone to just sit back and try to understand.  Sucks for them because I knew eventually I'd fall on better times and be happy, but they were too weak to see it through and stand by me.

Things started to get a bit better when I became
closer to my cousin more as a friend than a family member.  We probably had the best summer every together even though I had just had surgery and was in a sling the whole time.  She introduced me to Steve, who has almost single handedly made me feel like a completely normal person.  I honestly don't think I would have thought about quitting taking meds without his constant support.  I can always hear him saying to me 'you don't need to be on all those medications, you're normal.'  He has been so strong staying by my side through some really crappy times.  Never once did he give up on me.  11 months later and we're still freaking sweet together.  I've never felt more myself until I started dating him.  

And then there's the whole roller derby thing.  I started skating in November, and made the team in late January,  It's such a release, it makes me feel important, and I'm surrounded by strong women who aren't afraid to be themselves no matter what.  Bring around that makes me feel incredibly strong.  

I ran into a friend that I haven't seen for a long while.  She said to me 'You just look like you're doing so well and you look so happy.'

She was right.  I'm doing well, and I'm happier than ever.