Journal

 Food:

• Breakfast: 8 chicken wings and a can of Dr. Pepper
• Lunch: cherries
• Dinner: buttered noodles

Sleep night before: 8 hrs 4/5 stars

Exercise: none

Meds: anxiety & antacid

Med tracker: yes

Thoughts: I’m very good at planning things, but very bad at doing them. I will use up my time planning what I need to get done and never have time to do it and then I’m rushing around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Like this moment. I should have washed my hair three hours ago; I told myself I was going to wash my hair three hours ago, and now I have to leave in an hour and I have yet to get off my computer because I was busy setting up this blog to motivate myself to do things like wash my hair.

I’m the type who puts emphasis on outside forces as excuses for why I’m able to do or not do things, and I need to stop doing that. I need to put more emphasis on myself in ways other than to demean myself. I’ve had depression since I can remember and it’s dominated my thought pattern. I’m on meds now as an adult but I’m not consistent with taking them. I take them, do better, and then feel like I don’t need them and stop taking them - it’s not a conscious choice, it’s a out-of-sight-out-of-mind kind of thing.

Thankful for: The ability to start over

Month of Spirits

The past couple days have been hard in regards to my Mom. If you’ve lost someone like a parent, child or spouse you can probably relate. Everyday you’re morning but there are days where it’s harder and it hits you out of nowhere. I can’t say what sparked me last night but I began regretting decisions and blaming myself for things that weren’t my fault; “maybe if I’d not supported her decision she’d still be here kind” of thing.

Today I was reorganizing my email box and came across emails from planning her funeral and emails she’d sent me in the months before her passing like the October trip we were supposed to be on this month.

Maybe that’s why I’m so emotional - we had stuff planned. A trip, a Halloween party, stuff.

Now I’m out watching a tribute band with my Dad and it’s music she enjoyed as well. I’m watching the female guitarist hit these solos and thinking how much she’d love to see this.

I’m sitting here, trying not to cry because I don’t want my Dad or his friend to notice. I’m trapped between our table, the one next to us, and a railing, so if I’m to get up and leave I have to go under the table. No smooth getaway allowed.

I wrote this a few days ago and have decided to go ahead and post it.

That moment you realize there's one last wonton left in the soup and you savor it's goodness ♡ #ItsTheLittleThings

 fucktheevanuris:

ADHD culture is saying “what?” when you heard the question someone asked you but… It didn’t fucking… Register… In the brain? And then you hear the question before they ask again and interrupt them when they’re talking because now you’re An Asshole™ who understands

It’s an odd thing when a parent dies. For one, I never expected this so early in life. I thought I had so many more years with her full of road trips, and phone calls, and marathons of our favorite shows. We had a trip planned out in the fall that she was so happy to have my boyfriend joining us on.

As a disabled adult child I still relied on her for so much … including financially. She covered the cost of my private health insurance since it was through her employer, my cellphone was on her plan, and she’d cover my water bill if I was short on cash. The past few years I’ve been very adamant about managing my health care on my own and I’m so glad I did … but now she’s not there for backup.

Last month I was in a depressive daze. Growing up with untreated depression & anxiety, my mind would be freaking out in a situation like this, lost in a downward spiral with me scratching my arm till it bled. But now my anxiety is being treated and part of me doesn’t know what to do because I’m not spiraling. My depression is still there; a sense of overwhelming dread & inability to act on things, the longing to crawl in a hole and hide from the world.

I made it past her memorial and now I’m forcing myself to begin picking up the pieces. My family is helping me with the estate stuff; my one aunt helped me begin going through her files & my other uncle is helping me with legal stuff. My dad took me to a concert the weekend after the service; a much needed break from the world.

There are days this seems like a bad dream. That I’ll wake up and she’ll be alive; that she’s just at work and I’m waiting to hear her footsteps up the stairs. But they never come.

 the-fit-geek:

Sometimes you just have to bite the bullet and keep moving forward