Nostalgic

Oh, how I long

For days of long ago

How I wish

We could go back

I wish we lived

In the days

Of yesteryear

How great that would be

Poem to Me

Please forgive me
I've been so broken
Please forgive me
For the words I've spoken

I don't know how
To prevent your cry
I don't know how
To not live a lie

Thunder by Boys like Girls

On the whole when I hear this song, I picture my eighth-grade culmination party. I had just been gifted an iPod touch by my family. Everyone pitched in, even underage siblings. I downloaded this video before we left. And I walked around my party, listening to it and waiting. Waiting for the current love of my life, my thunder to show up. And he never showed!

But in a decade, it’s so much more than that.

Today is a winding road
That's taking me to places that I didn't want to go, woah

Life never goes as I want. Walking down a street I don’t want to be on. On a day I don’t want to be upright, to live. To live a life, I don’t want to exist.

Today in the blink of an eye
I'm holding on to something and I do not know why I tried

Why did I try this time? Why did I try last night? Why didn’t I try when it mattered?

I tried to read between the lines
I tried to look in your eyes
I want a simple explanation; what I’m feeling inside
I gotta find a way out

Maybe there's a way out

I’m always looking for a way out. Looking for a way out of relationships with others. Looking for a way of out a relationship with myself. Looking for a way out of life.

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer

Do you know you're unlike any other?

You'll always be my thunder, and I said

Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors

I don't wanna ever love another

You'll always be my thunder

So bring on the rain

And bring on the thunder

That summer before eighth grade, my love’s eyes were the “brightest of any color”. In my memories, they still are.

Today is a winding road

Tell me where to start and tell me something I don't know

Today I'm on my own

I can't move a muscle and I can't pick up the phone, I don't know

Is there a better lyrical representation of depression?

And now I'm itching for the tall grass

And longing for the breeze

I need to step outside, just to see if I can breathe

I gotta find a way out

Maybe there’s a way out

I just want to feel again. I’ve been struggling to breathe since I was three. But the times that I’ve been able to, make me able to push on.

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer

Do you know you're unlike any other?

You'll always be my thunder, and I said

Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors

I don't wanna ever love another

You'll always be my thunder

So bring on the rain

And bring on the thunder 

My first nanny charge was the highlight of my summer. He gave it sound and he gave it color.

Yeah I'm walking on a tightrope

I'm wrapped up in vines

I think I'll make it out but you just gotta give me time

Strike me down with lightning

Let me feel you in my veins

I wanna let you know how much I feel your pain

No matter what, I’ll always make it out. For 3 year old me. For my 3 year old. For Blue, Emerald, Indigo, Grey. For aunt. For my mom.

I rarely acknowledge it but I feel your pain. I'll try to valid it more.

Today is a winding road

That's taking me to places that I didn't want to go, woah

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer

Do you know you're unlike any other?

You'll always be my thunder, and I said

Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors

I don't wanna ever love another

You'll always be my thunder

Spring was just another time to me. In between my least favorite seasons, winter and summer. Basically my favorite for not being the fall I was born into, winter I lost my mom, or summer I lost my dreams. One spring gave such meaning that I fell back in love with summer. And this new love is greater than the love I felt before eighth-grade summer.

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer

Do you know you're unlike any other?

You'll always be my thunder

So bring on the rain

And listen to the thunder

His voice powers the thunder of my heart.

Con vs Pro

I hear someone say recently, "You say it's the worst it can get, but then it always gets worse. It can always get worse."

All I could think was, "I truly hope the worst is behind me."

Worst moments:
1 - When I almost lost Grey.
2 - When I was sure suicidal ideation was going to beat Purple after all - "suicidal panic attack" as I named the only one I've experienced.
3 - When I fully realized mom would never again hold me as I cried.
4 - When I couldn't see Indigo in the hospital because I was underage. Even though I was the final trigger.
5 - When I did see Indigo in the hospital.
6 - When Emerald was lost downtown, late at night, and all I could do was wait on Blue to help.
7 - When I had a second extreme panic attack at school. The first, at 7, was confusing. The second was, at 13, frustrating, embarrassing and the beginning of the end of public school.
8 - When I realized what a homicidal, suicidal mess Purple was, by reading a collection of poems written at 12. Would never attempt but the fact that such dark thoughts existed? That terrified me.
9 - When I was born.
10 - When Indigo moved out. And I couldn't no longer turn to them to give and receive support.
11 - When I couldn't see where Indigo and Emerald were in the shelter. I couldn't see their beds so I couldn't sleep.

Best moments:
1 - When Burgundy was born.
2 - When Burgundy was the winning factor Purple had over the "suicidal panic attack".
3 - When Burgundy made me smile in spite of the remaining migraine.
4 - When I gained a real Father, 26 days before I turned eleven.
5 - When I spoke to my Father in the language of my heart, at 19 years old.
6 - When I joked around with Blue as we shopped.
7 - When I reunited with my "soulmate/other half"
8 - When I laughed at Grey's stubborn consumption of almonds, despite their allergy.
9 - When I hung out with my pair of lovelies even though I was tired. 2.5 & 4 years old still makes me smile.
10 - When I followed my lovelies up with more fun. And partied through a torn ligament in my just relocated knee.
11 - When Indigo came back.
12 - When Indigo came home.
13 - When Emerald hugged me as I sobbed, at 17. Almost as good as mom.
14 - When Emerald, Indigo and I promised to be there for each other.
15 - When I realized, at 21.5, the day I almost died was 10.75 months ago. I'm close to being a year survivor. The anniversary isn't known for sure. But my guess is late May to mid June.

So yes, bad things happen. But along with the negative that can come, positive definitely will accompany it. It may even outweigh it.

The worst may not be behind me. But I know the best is out there too. Both ways, present and future the best is waiting to even it out. And then one day give a surplus.

And no matter how worse it gets, my previous worst have prepared me to face it all unafraid that it will win. It won't win because I have been trained not to lose. Or even think I could lose.

Unapologetically Me

So it's my birth date once again - I'm 21.

I've been alive for over two decades.

I've experienced so much.

I've been had sadness as my standard state for so long.

My 21st year was difficult. It was the scariest year I've ever been through. I didn't know where I stood with anyone. I thought I'd fallen apart too much. That 2 decades of guilt would become too much.

And the last few weeks have been especially hard. In waiting for my least favorite days, I truly hated September this time. I kinda regretted letting it happen.

Not anymore. I've spent a few hours looking back on the year and I'm proud of myself. I am almost done with school. I scheduled a driving appointment. I regularly attend my various medical/mental appointments. I don't hide out in my room the amount that comes naturally. I force myself out and to grow. I was myself, unapologetically.

I've adopted parents from media. I've made friends from times past. I've found even more things that matter to me, more that interest me, more to do in the future. I'm sure that I'll be here for many more September 28th. I doubt I'll treat them as I did as a child and adolescent. I no longer desire missing the month of September. 

Wow, I'm not an adolescent anymore. I am at the age that universally, physically, scientifically, philosophically can't be denied as adulthood. I'm leaving one club behind and am going the older, responsible group. While I hope never to have children of my own, I hope as a member of the second group I can guide the young club.

I look forward to my 22nd year. And all the changes that shall so be coming with them. Being in charge of myself is much different than raising yourself with no plan or advice. I'll keep you in the loop. I'll share the progresses that allow the woman I've always wanted to be, to have space and feel free to challenge me. Purple Owl will be changing shades throughout the year. But always a type of Purple for confidence and lock on identity.

Autism In Love

Disclaimer: this movie included some language and phrases I didn't appreciate. But it was just too moving not to share. Also, spoilers!

I didn't know what I was going to get with this documentary. I came away from it caring for all the subjects. I even felt like three were my close friends while a fourth was myself.

The Subjects:
Lenny (Leonard) - raised by a single mother, currently lives with mother & stepfather.
Dave - parents were not in the video. He has a scientific geared mind.
Lindsey - father was interviewed. She leans toward creativity.
Stephen - oldest of the group. He lives independent of his parents.

Lifestyle:
Lenny graduated high school a while back and does not have a job. He spends time playing video games, at diners, at the park, and talking to friends.

Dave & Lindsey met at an Autism convention in 2005. They were at 8 years dating when the documentary began. I'm not sure if they live together since Dave mentioned "she tucks me in at night." (That could go either way.) Dave works in physics. I'm not sure about Lindsey but office friendliness seems valued. Her coworker/employer was pleasantly surprised by her social adaptation level.

Stephen works the U.S. Postal Service. He does some kind of systematic work, which sounds relaxing. It seems like he is more interested in the work than the social aspect.

Love Life:
Lenny is single. He has one ex-girlfriend. But she wanted to make things more physical than he was comfortable with. Lenny also has a range of beliefs about romantic relationships that I don't necessarily agree with.
1) A man must have a job - I see the value but it's not a rule breaker to me at the beginning of dating. Courtship though is another matter. And if he loses the job, do they break up?
2) A man must make more money - honestly I'd love for the money to be pouring in and me to never have to move an inch. But I also believe in moderation and not working just for the money. If the man is stressed just to make a dollar more, is it worth it?
3) Women shouldn't pay for anything - while I appreciate the principle there and the natural, inborn desire men have to take care of their own, I don't agree wholeheartedly. Men should be able to pay for most. But to me a grown, adult woman should be able to pay for most, too. My general rule when someone else is paying for me, "if I couldn't afford it, I can't get it." However, the beauty about relationships, romantic or otherwise, is complementing each other. If both want to go out but won't pay the same amount, should the decision be affected by which gender they are?
4) Overall, a deep seated belief of inequality - men crave respect & women crave love. We aren't exactly the same. Those aren't the only things we need though. Men need love & women need respect, just not as intensely on the norm.

At 8 years dating, friends wonder why Dave & Lindsey aren't married yet. I personally don't think it's that long to date for a couple who both have a diagnosis that involves difficulty in developing relationship and communicating. They are so adorable.

Dave gives a beautiful math or science (as if I fully understand it academically) formula for love. L + P + 2T = % of love. L is for looks and physical attraction. But love has to last past those 3 years of lust so next is P for personality. The most important is how they treat you, so 2T. A person who rates high on based on their treatment of you has a better chance than based off of looks and personality alone. This is how Dave knows he is in love with Lindsey. Especially because the feelings have lasted 8 years.

Lindsey says despite not fully understanding each other, they make room for their routines and rigidity. They have been through a lot and their love is proven by remaining together. Lindsey faces love more emotionally than Dave. She knows she's in love with him because she wants to go at a pace comfortable for him even if it's not best for her. Lindsey feels that valuing the other person is love.

Stephen got married in the early 1990s. He lived with his wife, Edith, for 17 years until she was diagnosed with a brain tumor in 2010. She had surgery and has been in a different town recovering since. She has medical ups and downs. Stephen isn't very verbal so I couldn't gather how much he knew about his wife's condition. His mother said he hopes for the best and believes Edith won't die. He remembered all the dates, even what he said when they met. Stephen said he knows he loves her because he cares for her. He wants to kiss, hug her and wished her the best. Awwwww!

Other struggles in the film:
Lenny was obviously suffering from depression. He felt less important than his peers who are in college or have graduated from there and moved on to jobs. He was unhappy with his diagnosis and its affect on his life. Lenny's self esteem very low. As a result of this, at one point he went to a mental hospital due to concerns that he would harm himself.

Lindsey was trying her hardest to be content with what Dave was able to give her. However, she didn't feel assured of his love. They had discussed marriage a few years prior. She pretty much promised her acceptance whenever he was ready to propose. But Dave hadn't been ready before and during the documentary. It increasingly became a topic. Up to the point, that he went ring shopping.

Edith died in 2013. Stephen was asked if he was still in love with her. He said "no. When a person dies, you can't hug or kiss them anymore. So I'm not in love with her." I translated that as the romantic love has ended but he still loves her and treasures the memories. I don't know if that's correct or arrogant of me to assume, but I just don't think he could verbally express it. That doesn't mean he couldn't feel it though, which was the position the concept of the documentary took.

Conclusion:
Lenny has a job at a grocery store. He seemed much more content with his life. I wish we got a closing interview with his mother.

Dave proposed to Lindsey! In a way that was perfectly them! She's teaching him piano and I couldn't have fangirled more.

Stephen is back at work after a few months. His parents said it was good for him to be back to a routine. While he was affected greatly by his wife's death, his ability to talk about her was encouraging. I don't know how long had passed when the interviewer asked. And I don't know if his way of communicating made it seem like he was coping better than he was.

My reaction to the subjects:
I hope Lenny continues to grow in self-esteem. Like his mother said, he's awesome. He just needs to realize it. I hope he learns that relationships, romantic or not, don't have to follow a rule book. That it's okay to write your own story.

Lindsey felt like a future me. She knows that she is struggling. But she faces it head on, bravely. And when she mentioned necklaces make her feel protected, like she has a barrier between her and the world, I realized that's how I feel about accessories, hair, and makeup. I'll give people something to talk about as long as it's superficial and not something that I'm self-conscious about.

Dave was amazing. I don't get science and math, probably because I tell myself that. But I could almost always understand him. I appreciated how blunt he is. I know that's a characteristic of the diagnosis but it felt like it was more of a characteristic of his, regardless of ASD. Excepting Lindsey, I feel like everyone always knows where they stand with him.

Stephen is how I wish I could be. He spoke when people are "supposed to". He can hold a conversation. He can convey his feelings partially and those who love him fill in the rest. I'm sure he has had difficulties in his life especially in the "olden days of heightened prejudice" and while dating. But as much as we can say that being unable to share your thoughts and feelings is a bad thing, there's a slight plus. No matter how much people push, they're only going to get so much out of you. With a person on the Autism Spectrum, any more gained is an indescribable joy. But as someone who can't stop talking, even when my thoughts and feelings really don't need to be shared, I'm slightly envious. The grass is always greener on the other side.

Mental Health in Media

Our first media series will be analyzing how mental health is represented to the mass public.

I'm using "Mental Health in Film". There is a list on Wikipedia. I will watch the movies and discuss the accuracy, glamouization, romanticization or ignorance each film protrays.

Disclaimer: My professional diagnoses at the moment: Bipolar II (a less severe form of Bipolar I) Chronic Depression, Suicidal, Social Anxiety, Insomnia, Anxiety and Panic Disorder.
My personal suspicions: PTSD, leaning towards a range of Personality Disorders, Food Discomfort, Depersonalization Disorder, ADHD, leaning toward the Autism Spectrum, Phobias, Selective Mutism.

If you want more information on my disorders and my opinion on them, there are numerous post about just that. In particular:
Unique-ly in the Way - all disorders
Hypomania & HSP - Bipolar II & Anxiety
ARFID - Food Discomfort
Suicidal Ideation - Suicidal
Fighting Through - Social Anxiety
Throw Back Thursday - Selective Mutism
Sleep - Insomnia
Painful Memory, Useful Memory - Panic Disorder
Kristy, Are You Doing Okay? - PTSD
Paradoxical - a few disorders mentioned

I will only discuss things with content that suits my taste. I may leave out an important example because I'm not comfortable with it. After movies, I'll decide between TV and books.

P.S. Sorry I got it in a few minutes late.

S.I. Confessions Part 4

How?
How do I go from high up to falling down?

Why?
Why can't I speak when people are around?

When?
When will I be able to see more than me?

Who?
Who do I even want to be?

Where?
Where will I find my safe place?

What?
What can I do to enjoy taking up space?

Eras

Throw Back Thursday

Mom Era: 0 - 8 years old

This was a stressful era. Mom was sick. I was sick.

But the leader of the era was always around. She explained things to me. Things most people wouldn't think to explain to a child. Things most people would think was beyond a child. Things most people would think damaging for a child.

I couldnt tell her my secrets. I didn't want to upset her with my worries. Somehow, she seemed to know them anyway.

Mom held my hand as I had my MRI.

Aunt Era: 8 - 13 years old

This was a quiet era. It built underground and erupted suddenly towards the end.

The leader wasn't always available. She was tired from working and caring for us. She was busy. She was overwhelmed.

I fought her over my secrets. I wanted her to worry over them. I wanted them to matter. I wanted to matter.

She loved me through the worst times.

Blue Era: 14 - 16 years old

This was a quick era. It took longer to adjust to than it actually lasted. It shocked me when it ended.

The leader was unsure. He had a lot of concerns. He was in charge of so many people's happiness. He didn't talk to me as much as he had during the other eras.

I denied him my secrets. I denied access into the pieces the eras had created. I didn't want him to know about the scars I'd gained while he wasn't the leader.

He asked for a blanket when I was cold during my MRI.

Lost Era: 16 - 20 years old

This was a random era. Nothing was set in stone. No goal seemed within reach, even just getting through.

The leader didn't exist. There was nothing to lead. Life just passed by. School, friends, entertainment on and on without a plan. And even when it did gain a plan, the approach was haphazard.

I ran away from my secrets. I forgot they existed. When their whispers grew to shouts, I ignored the pain. I ignored them and so they controlled me.

It was the darkest era.

Purple Era: 20 years old

This era is open. It doesn't have many things written yet. The things it has are mostly bad.

The leader is me. I'm finally at the helm. I don't know how to grow up. I doubt I ever will achieve the level I had hoped for. I have confidence that this era will last for quite some time.

I'm slowly remembering my secrets. I'm facing them head on. They are just facts or thoughts. I am the person whose life depends on continuing the fight.

I couldn't ask for a blanket. I couldn't squeeze comfort into my hands. I did, however, prepare for the shot. I prepared for the potential anxiety attack. I prepared for the loneliness and longing. I cheered on and supported my physically and mentally weak state. I got through my MRI on my own.

P.S. I'm going to attempt blogging all week. I had my last day of work today and decided to write on the topic that's been on my mind since Friday.

Unique-ly in the Way?

I thought I finally knew who I was and how I fit in my world. However, I don't.

I'm pretty sure who I am. I don't change very much. Never have. And while I don't always know the right words to describe it all, I can feel the truth. But I don't fit where I had begun to suspect I did.

I try to help. Then, I find out that people don't see it like that. My help is denied or incorrect. My help actually spurs multiple new routes people have to take around me.

▪~▪~▪~▪~▪~▪~▪~▪~▪~▪~▪

I take personality and mental disorder quizzes in my spare time. My personality is locked and I like who I am. But how do other people process me? What does the test have to say about the way I think?

I have a high chance of bipolar - that makes sense considering my bipolar II diagnosis.

I have a high chance of food addiction/detachment - that makes sense considering I starve myself out of disinterest and disgust.

I have a high chance of depression - that makes sense considering my chronic depression diagnosis.

I have a high chance of PTSD - that makes sense considering my parents messy divorce and my mom's slow decay of 4 years.

I have a high chance of anxiety - that makes sense considering my generalized anxiety disorder.

I have a high chance of insomnia - that makes sense considering without medication I only sleep eventually and I wake up from anxiety nightmares tired every morning.

I have a high chance of social anxiety - that makes sense considering how much people scare me and my GAD.

I have a high chance of cell phone/Internet/TV addiction - that makes sense considering being without a screen or worse a connection have entered my nightmares.

I have a high chance of being suicidal - that makes sense considering how many suicidal ideations I have in a week.

I have a medium chance of autism spectrum disorder - that makes sense considering how much human interaction confuses and frustrates me.

I have a medium chance of every personality disorder there is - that makes sense considering I hate being with people, I dwell on myself all the time, and I do random things I don't even plan.

I have a medium chance of ADHD - that makes sense considering how many tabs my brain as open in any given moment but also considering how unwilling I am to move.

I have a medium chance of chocolate addiction - that makes sense considering I never forget about chocolate but sometimes I forget it interest me.

I have a medium chance of ED - that makes sense considering I have an unhealthy relationship with food, I dislike all thighs but had an affectionate acceptance of my body for 18.5 years until my hatred of food and chewing took the better of me.

I have a medium chance of depersonalization disorder - that makes sense considering how far away my body feels at times.

I have a low chance of BPD - that makes sense considering my bipolar II diagnosis. It's possible to have both but I most likely don't.

I have a low chance of anger - that makes sense considering I accept people's negative emotions as my fault and never theirs.

I have a low chance of psychopath & sociopath - that makes sense considering I believe there are 8 billion people higher than me, including possible unfeeling people.

▪~▪~▪~▪~▪~▪~▪~▪~▪~▪~▪

So why do I open a bunch of these stupid, unpredictable tests at 5 am and take them over the course of 3 weeks? Why do I rehash the results on a long blog entry starting at 23:30 - 1:00 am on a night have I haven't taken my sleep aid and need to up early for an intense day?

Because they remind me of what I already know. They remind me of the person I am and love, even when others make me doubt myself. While the list may make it seem like I have some incredible life ruining flaws, it highlights the ones I couldn't stomach having. What's a little depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, suicide when compared to psychopath, anger, depersonalization?

I don't fit nicely in my world. I never have. I've been in the way since I was less than 1 year old. I'll continue to upset the lives of people I love and my own.

But I know who I am. I know I'll get in the way in new and exciting ways. I know that I'll run away to fictional worlds because they don't question what makes me who I am and label it as wrong.

I don't mind being unsure of how my medical team will help with with all my needs. Being unsure if I want the help, especially when I'm not doing my best to assist their assistance. Being unable to face all the things I need to at once: my deep-seated fear of driving, my knee pains, my back spasms, my lack of excerise, my lack of appetite, my possible neurological problems that cause seizures at the random age of 20, my increasing depression, my increasing anxiety, and weakening control and mental strength. I don't mind any of those things.

I don't mind as long as I continue to be sure of who I am. Even if I dislike being unique, different, special, left out. Because those things don't matter as long as I can accept myself.

My unique-ly in the way self. I am after all a work of art.

P.S. this was a major rant and didn't really have a point at the beginning. I do feel much better though.

Hypomania & HSP

The problem with hypomania is knowing that eventually it will wear off.

I had a very up day Sunday. I giggled, I shrieked, I ate, I laughed, I lived. But come Monday, things were bothersome again. Fast forward to Wednesday, and I'm bemoaning my existence (after therapy of course. My worst moments through the week always seem to come within 40 hours of saying "have a good week" to my therapist.) I woke up Thursday surprised I survived the night and somewhat (as much as possible) optimistic about a day to recover slowly. Until I cried at work. From then out it was over. The misery was cemented.

I'm feeling a little better today. Breathing isn't as difficult. Thinking isn't as painful. Walking is a little less hard.

But still I'm not quite well. I'm recalling past comments and hearing them in the worst way.

"How can you keep track of everything in that notebook? I would get so confused." - "You're not normal. Your behavior isn't normal. You are an enigma always to be alone and never understood." Different. Right, I can't get away from that. I'm told I'm supposed to embrace my uniqueness and not be so utterly destroyed when I'm sent off world again. Because my emotional responses, which are out of my control, are wrong as well.

"You take up a lot of room in the fridge for one person." - "You take up too much room in the house." Smaller. Right, it's my first priority in life. I'll work on that despite the progress of even having food in the fridge.

"You don't feel up to it? You don't care about me." Or "You don't agree with me? You think my perspective is wrong, even though I have more authority in the matter?" - "Your emotions rule you. You can't vlbe self-sacrificing." Or "You can't possibly have a solid opinion based on your perspective. You just want to oppose me!" Selfish. Right, I don't sacrifice enough just staying alive so other people can avoid that added stress. I am unfeeling while doing my best to make everyone happy with what little energy or real interest I have. I should definitely be able to find a way to agree with things I don't believe I can do or I don't believe are right.

It's a constant struggle. I know people mean well. I know I lean toward paranoia personality disorder. But that's the thing. I'm already bent to think that people are out to get me. And then I hear at least 1 negative thing every day from the outside. I hear negative things on repeat from the inside. I wish I could trust the outside to give me time to digest the previous comments.

Why can't the up days last longer?

I'm just in the way. Of people I love. Of myself. And I'm not sure how much I can ignore anymore. I'm not sure if I'll be able to survive every day when my worst fear is be achieved every day. And pointed out.

I just want to quit.

Lethargic

I'm tired.

That's it. I'm just plain tired.

It's the end of the school year meaning it's a super busy and important time for me.
I have class projects to complete.
I have to finish working with one child and mentally prepare for the other.
I have to figure out what classes I still need for whatever it is I want to do in child care.
I have to sign up for classes after that.
I have to decide how much to work next semester.
I have to rearrange my room.
I have to figure out how to handle my mental and physical condition, especially my avoidant eating habits.
I have to get my license because life is too hectic to traipse 5 towns on foot.
I have to say goodbye to the dark months and prepare for the mega bright ones.

Wow, my mind was overwhelmed but putting it in writing gives it clarity. There's so much to be done.

I'm more than tired. I'll admit it, I'm scared. I'm scared of most of these things individually and I'm scared of what they signify all togethet. I have to take care of myself. Even more than the last decade. For the last decade, I've let myself get away with doing the bare minimum requirements and all that caused was a major build up of wotk. If I want to progress at all, I have to take multiple steps almost simultaneously. In vague, blurry synchronization.

P.S. there were 40 things on my to do list when I woke up and I got it down to 37. Yay me.

Jaded: Chapter 10

We're hosting a tea party this afternoon.

I came home from dinner with Arthur to find out we're hosting a tea party. I had 15 hours notice. Jennifer had picked out dresses for the both of us.

Arthur and Caleb apologized for forgetting about the annual tea. Belle didn’t say anything. I knew that it was Delilah’s fault though. I don't understand this girl. What's with the secrets?

Anyway, it's in 30 minutes. My dress is on the bed. And just like the ball gown, I wish I didn't know the price tag. It could pay for a month of school.

"Lizzie do you need help getting dressed?" Jenn asks coming up.

"Yes." I say, standing up and changing.

Jenn zips me up.

"We're hosting a tea. How cool is that?"

"It's cool.

"Lizzie, are you alright?"

"I'm just a little overwhelmed."

"I'm sorry. You're so natural around people I forget that you don't actually feel comfortable talking to new people. And the boys won't be at tea."

"I'll be okay. I've had time to think about it. I've researched all the people coming and have questions prepared."

Jenn laughs.

"Alright, but if you need a break come find me."

"How are you girls doing?" Delilah asks, knocking.

"We're good." Jenn says smiling.

"Great. The flowers and arrangements are arriving. Belle said you wanted to see them, Jenn."

"Ok. I'll go downstairs. Just let me know, Lizzie." Jenn winks at me.

I look in the mirror and admire the dress. I have always wanted to attend a tea party. Raising awareness for the ocean is the best time for it.

"You look very pretty, Lizzie." Delilah says.

I had forgot she was in the room.

"Thank you." I say turning around. "You look beautiful."

It's silent again as I pack my purse. And by pack, I mean put my phone, wallet, and keys inside. I just take a while because it is awkward.

"Where are---?"

"Arthur said…" Delilah trails off.

"Go ahead." I say.

"Arthur said you had something to ask me."

I wish he hadn't told her. I was starting to change my mind.

"Yes. Would you like to hang out Tuesday or Wednesday? Whichever works best for you."

"You want to hang out with me?" Delilah asks, staring at me.

"Yes." I say confused.

"Oh, ok. Tuesday then. Should I call and make some plans?"

"No." I say, quickly.

She pauses and looks surprised.

"I mean, I'll take care of the plans."

"Ok. Well, I should be getting ready to go downstairs."

"Of course."

"Lizzie, you should relax. You’re a pleasant person to be around. There won't be any reporters or anything."

That takes me by surprise. She hasn't seemed to take that much of an interest in me except to keep things from me.

"Thanks, I will. And you should relax as well. I won't say anything embarrassing." I say, following Delilah out the room.

"I'm not afraid of you saying anything embarrassing."

"But this is my first role in my new position as the ward. I have to make a good impression."

"Your talents speak for you."

What are these talents everyone's been talking about?

"And anyway, I'm not nervous. I've been hosting this tea since I was a newborn."

She seems really nervous to me.

"There were the 12 years we didn't host it here." Belle says, coming down the hall.

"Yes, but we still hosted it." Delilah replies, staring at her. "Lizzie, could you walk Michelle Campbell over?"

"Sure."

I think I make her nervous. I wonder why, I think walking to the back door.

Is Finn at home? We did homework Friday with Allison, Chloe, and other seniors. But I haven't seen him since. I wish he had come with Arthur and I yesterday.

We're talking again but it's not smooth. At least one of us is awkward, if not both at the same time  I'm really worried about what Allison said. What if we ruin our friendship?

"Eliza?"

I look up. There he is. The door is open and he's wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

"Yes. Hi. I came to walk your mom to the tea."

"Oh, right. That's today. I haven't been home for it in years."

I nod while he stares at me.

"Do you want…?" I start to ask.

"Eliza, you look great. Tea dresses suit you. Well, you look amazing all the time. But this is nice." He says, all at once.

"Oh, thank…"

"I can't go to the tea. It's ladies only. Even though I would like to protect the ocean as well."

What is happening? It's like he's a sentence behind the conversation.

"I wasn't inviting you." That sounds mean. "I mean, it's a girls' only tea. And you're wearing casual clothes. You look good. I haven't seen you in casual clothes in a while, like a week. But I mean, you're not dressed for tea. And like I said it's girls' only. Speaking of which do you want to call your mom down?"

Finn smiles and I wince. I want to disappear.

"Hi, Lizzie." Michelle says.

She looks at both of us and steps out of the house.

"Finish your conversation. I'll wait here."

I look at Finn and he smiles again.

"Well, there's my mom. But she won't be happy if we don't talk about something. So what's your plans for the week?"

"Um, I'm doing homework tonight and Monday. I'm hanging out with Delilah Tuesday. Homework again Wednesday and Thursday. I want to go out Friday night but everyone has plans that I don't want to join. Saturday is the garden party. You're still working that night, right?"

"Yes." And I smile. "Do you need me to chaffuer Tuesday?"

"I was wondering if you could ask Stephan. I want one on one time with Delilah. And you know how Stephan is."

"I do indeed. I'll ask him."

He stares at me again.

"I don't have plans Friday. Do you want to hang out?" He asks, looking down.

Yes, yes! Yes!

"Sure." I say. "We should go. Don’t want to be late, especially when it's so close."

Finn nods and waves.

"Bye."

"Bye." He says and closes the door.

Michelle takes my arm.

"It's good to have you near the house again."

"What?" I ask.

She's speaking Latin again.

"All couples fight."

"We're not..." I say in English.

"Finn gave me that already." She whispers in Latin as we sit down.

"Elizabeth Gent." The woman to my left says. "Nice to meet you."

"Hello, Mrs. Jergens. Do you mind calling me Lizzie? I'm not used to the full name thing."

"Oh, ok. And you can call me Diane."

"Thank you. What's your favorite ocean animal?"

That was question number 9. But it's okay because she proceeds to tell me about jellyfish for 20 minutes.

"And I simply love the way they move. So tell me about yourself." She says, without pausing.

"Oh, um. I'm seventeen. I've lived in Colorado since I was 11."

"Where did you live before?" Mrs. Nichols asks.

"I was born and raised in Plymouth."

That's not exactly true but I don't remember where we moved when I was 4.

"When did your parents die?" Ms. Callahan asks.

My entire table stops moving. Half of them look at me and the other half stare at her.

"My dad died when I was almost 3. My mom died when I was 8."

"So it's been a long time." Mrs. Jergens says sadly.

"Yeah. Fifteen years for my dad and almost 10 for my mom."

"You poor thing." Ms. Callahan replies.

"It's a fact of life. I know people with worse stories. Wait, Jo? Is that you?"

"Josephina Callahan."

"She was a junior when I was a lost freshman. So she knows how bad our stories can be." I tell the table. "You look so different. I hardly recognized you."

She smiles and sips her tea.

"Oh, yes. Millicent talks about you all the time." Mrs. Musgroves says.

She's been quiet this whole time. But what she says shocks me more than the fact that she spoke.

"Milly talks about me?"

"Of course. Her dad was hoping she'd have some competition in school. When she came in 3rd freshman year, we were all shocked. But she told us about you and is it, Lindsay?" I nod. "Lindsay sounds like a genius. Do you know what she wants to do for a living?"

"No. Neither of us have decided." I say, finding my voice.

"Well, I'd love to see the three of you working for my husband. And I know Millicent and Marcella would love it."

Now it's just too impossible to believe.

"Marcella may not like it because she's not inheriting."

"But aren't they twin heiresses?" I ask.

"Yes. Marcella will be taken care of but her talents don't lie with managing people."

That sounds like the mother way of saying she's not good with people.

"No, Marcella will have to find her passion."

Macey is as lost as I am?

"What do you think of them now?" Michelle asks, leaning in.

"These women speak Latin too." I whisper back.

"Please. I went to school with them. They passed and then stopped using it."

"Fine. Do you know them?"

"I don't. Finn told me you weren't happy about him dating Millicent."

I stare at her.

"You two seem close." Mrs. Nichols observes.

"Michelle is probably happy to have a student around. She has someone to converse with in Latin." Mrs. Musgroves says.

"You ladies know me too well." She says, smiling.

"He knew I was upset? He told you?" I ask.

"All couples fight. Moms are a listening ear. No details. We're neutral."

Oh, sure. But you'll tell me that he told you.

I sigh and stand up.

"Excuse me. I'm going for more tea."

I pour my water. And think about how many finger sandwiches to get. I want to be polite but I'm feeling uneasy and want to stuff myself.

"Liz Gent."

"Jo Callahan." I reply.

"It's Josephine now."

"I'm sorry. I'm having a hard time processing that because I'm having a lot of flashbacks. And in those flashbacks, you're Jo."

"You know, at first I was going to forgive you because you're the Peyton ward. But when I heard you rejected Charles Engel, I remember how annoying you were."

"You were going to forgive me?" I ask, amazed. "Forgive me for what? Letting you bully Lindsay, Mikalya and Bianca?"

"I did not bully the four of you."

"No, you bullied them but you tormented me. I'm not sure what made me worse but I'm glad I got the blunt of it. Good for you. You learned how to condescend to the point of forgiving someone for being a victim."

"Don't think that developing the socialite communication makes you one of us. You still snubbed Charles Engel."

I take my tea bag out.

"What connection do you have to Charles that makes him so precious?"

"We're going to get married."

"You are? Then why did he want to dance with me?"

"Because I wasn't there. Because his mother told him to. We're not engaged or anything but my father decided with his father."

"Ok. I hope you have fun spending your money on superficial things. Too bad you can't use your influence for good."

I stir my tea. I don't need sandwiches.

"Just be careful. We won't let you into our society with ease."

"You make the mistake of thinking I want to be in your society."

----- ----- -----

"Thanks, Stephan." I say, getting in the car.

"Of course, Liz." He says closing the door.

"Hi. Lizzie how are you?" Delilah asks.

"I'm good. How was your day?"

"It was fine. It was odd leaving the office while it's still light outside."

"You usually get home so late."

"Yeah, but it's okay. I enjoy being at work for all the different shifts and talking to everyone."

"You sound like a cool boss."

"Thanks. Where are we going?"

"For ice cream. I love ice cream after school and Caleb insisted I take myself once a week."

She nods and stares out the window.

Stephan parks and opens the door.

What am I supposed to talk about?

Spirant Iustum: You'll be fine. Just be nice.

I smile.

"Who is it? If you don't mind me asking."

"It's fine. It's Finn Campbell." I say looking at ice cream flavors. "What are you getting?"

"Chocolate. What about you?"

"Cookie dough and peanut butter. It's like a Reese Cup in a cookie."

"You're getting two flavors?"

"Yeah. My mom always got me two flavors. I never finished it. But now I like mixing it."

"My mom would get us ice cream all the time after school."

"Caleb told me. She would pick you up and take you out, right?"

"Yeah. We'd have a day set aside for each of us."

"Did you all go on Fridays?"

Delilah pauses.

"You don't have to answer." I add.

Oops. I've made it awkward.

"No it's fine. The weekend was always really social. She stayed home."

I nod, feeling bad.

"So you've known Finn for a long time."

"Not as long as you guys have known him."

"That's true. Belle and Caleb kind of adopted him as another sibling. He's a great kid."

I smile and tell her about Arthur and my conversation about the word kid.

"But yeah. He is a good guy." I say, vaguely.

"What do you think of him?"

I try not to physically express my reaction.

"You want to know how I feel about him."

"Yes."

"Why did you and Michelle scheme to have us match for the benefit?" I ask, instead.

Delilah blushes.

"I wanted to see you two together."

"So we were right in saying you were a supporter."

"Who's we?"

"Jenn, the girls here and at home. It's a whole big organization." I say, smirking.

"But how do you feel about him?"

"I like him. I'm not sure what's going on. But I think it's going to come to a head soon."

"I'm sure it will be okay."

"You're sure he likes me. I'm not sure. But if he does that's not our main issue."

"He is still your date Saturday, right?"

"Yes. And we already have our couples item for our team."

"Good. You'll have some time to find out what's wrong then. You don't have to fix it. But I think you guys should just be honest with each other."

I nod. I'm not good at being honest about my feelings and circumstances but I'll try.

"I wanted to ask you. Can we arrange an interview Saturday before the scavenger hunt?"

"With me?" I ask.

Dumb question.

"Yes. We'll have the previewed questions for you tomorrow night. You'll have all morning to prepare. The first interview is the most important. People will get most of their curiosty addressed. And then you'll have more privacy."

Or less, depending on how you look at it.

"Sure, I'll do an interview." I stand up. "Next stop?"

"Yes. What's next?"

I smile.

"The grocery store. We need substance for a movie marathon."

----- ----- -----

I hear a noise at my window. I step onto the balcony and look down.

"Finn?" I ask surprised.

"Come down. I have food." He says, holding up a bag.

"You want me to come down the terrace?"

"No. I want you to go to the family room and come down the stairs."

I look my left and see the stairs leading to the yard.

"That works too."

I go back into my room and grab my purse. Then, down the hall to the family room and out to that balcony.

"Will you catch me if I fall?"

"Do you regularly fall when using stairs?"

I narrow my eyes at him.

"Plus I have food. Would you rather I keep hold of it or catch you?"

"Don't you dare drop the best burger ever." I say, taking the bag he offers me. "So if you brought me food, where are we hanging out?"

"I thought we'd hang out here. I mean, it's quiet with the three Simms', my dad, and Jenn gone."

"Why did I come to the yard if we're hanging at the house?"

"Sorry, I meant hanging out in the yard."

"What about your mom? Isn't she lonely?"

"No." He says, firmly.

I look at him surprised.

"Yesterday she mentioned this girl I wanted to marry and won't stop talking about her."

"A girl you wanted to marry? Do tell." I say as we sit on the swinging bench.

"When we moved out here, I met a little girl. I played with her every day for two weeks and according to my mom fell in love."

"Was she your age?"

"Yeah. She was eight too."

"What was her name?"

"I don't remember. I can't even remember her face. But she was nice and spoke Latin."

"Latin?" I ask, amazed. "There's actually another parent that teaches their child Latin?"

"You mean, other than ours? I know it's crazy."

"Doesn't your mom know who it is?"

"No. She was helping my grandfather with the company. She moved after my dad and I. My dad was getting to know the Simms. So I was with the girl and her nanny."

"It sounds like she would be at the academy."

"I've asked but none of the girls had the memory. She could have gone to any academy like me or a different school all together. I had forgotten until my mom randomly mentioned it. I guess I told my mom I found the girl I wanted to marry but she moved for now. I was a theatrical kid so I wouldn't tell my mom her name."

"That's too bad."

"Not really. But my mom thinks it's the cutest thing. And keeps mentioning it. That's why I didn't want to hang out at my house. Plus, I think she's visiting Belle at some point."

I nod and attempt to swing. Finn laughs when it doesn't move.

"Am I too heavy?"

"Could you please just assist me?"

"Yes." He kicks off.

We swing in silence for a moment.

"How was hanging out with Delilah?"

"It was fun. Awkward but fun."

"She's not as easy going as the others."

"What happened to not talking about your employers?"

"I don't talk badly about them or circurlate gossip. That was an observation."

"Okay. Am I imagining things or is she more uneasy with me?"

"No. She seems to be keeping her distance from you. But hanging out helped, right?"

"Yeah, she talks to me more now."

Mainly she says hi and talks to me about Finn. As if that's all my life involves.

'I'm glad. And how was the tea party?"

"It was good. I learned a lot about jellyfish."

"You asked Mrs. Jergens about her favorite animal."

"Yes. How did you know?"

"My mom went to Alden Academy with a lot of the moms. Diane Jergens is quiet but talks a lot about passions."

"Well, that's good to know if there's ever a pause in the conversation. Do you want to go inside the ballroom?" I ask.

"Is it open?" He asks, stopping the swing.

"Yeah. It's never locked."

He turns the handle and looks at me surprised.

"Nicole said you were the explorer. How did you not know this about your backyard?"

"Technically, it's my front yard. And I've always explored the beaches and attractions."

I nod and set my purse down. I've been in here many a sleepless night. But I still love studying the design.

Music starts playing and Finn takes my hand.

"You have classical music on your phone?" I ask, laughing.

"Of course. My fiancé introduced me to Ravel and I've loved it ever since."

"Is that what we call random kids we've forgot until recently?"

"I like the idea of a girl living her life and not knowing we're bethrothed."

I laugh. And Finn stares at me.

"What else happened at the tea?"

"I met Milly's mom. And saw Josephina Callahan for the first time in years."

"What did you think of Mrs. Musgroves?" He asks, glancing at me.

"She's nice."

"She's my favorite Musgroves."

"You dated Milly even though she wasn't your favorite?" I ask confused.

"She's my second favorite." He shrugs. "But being able to understand social queues is important."

"So you acknowledge that she's a mean person?"

"I acknowledge that she doesn't get how what she says comes off. But at heart she's a nice girl."

"Let's agree to disagree."

"That sounds beneficial. What happened with Josephina?"

"She told me, I may be the Peyton ward but I'm not a socialite."

"Good old Josephina. That's why she had to go the southwest academy."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't tell you?" I shake my head. "She made every girl and some boys in town cry by the time she went got to 8th grade. Her parents decided it would be better for her to go to school across country."

"Yay for me." I say, sarcastically.

"At least it prepared you for this world. How are you doing being the ward? We didn't really get to talk about it that night." He says, looking down.

I think about the night of the benefit again. And force myself to stop.

"I haven't had to do much yet. I have an interview tomorrow afternoon."

"Before the scavenger hunt?"

"Yup."

"Like always, be yourself and be nice."

"Spirant Iustum?" I ask.

"Just breathe is good. But do remember to answer questions."

I smile.

"Will do. I can't believe I'm going to be in a magazine. It's hard enough seeing myself on TV, being treated differently, and getting used to extra security."

"Sorry about that."

"Finn, we talked about it. It's alright." I say, looking him in the eye. "What did your dad say about tonight?"

"He said not to let you out of my sight. Which I wouldn't do anyway."

Another one of those comments I don't understand.

"He was with the Simms. Caleb said to have more guards. Delilah made a reservation. I cancelled it."

"So that's why Belle gave me her credit card. You know what I like about Arthur?"

"That he doesn't force his opinion and respects other people's lives."

"Exactly."

Finn smiles.

"I can't believe we're dancing in an empty ballroom to classical music on your phone."

"What's wrong with it?" He asks, defensively.

"Nothing. It's just. You were throwing rocks at my window earlier, right?"

"Yes." He says, looking to the side.

"It's just so cliché. But I like clichés."

Suicidal Ideation

I've been gone for three months. What have I to say? Not much.

I started sharing my feelings on here because I hoped that anyone who needed to read my blog would find it. But I never had a plan for what to share and when I did make one, I didn't stick to it. And I didn't do much to direct people here.

Now, I'm been sharing quotes, poems, and excerpts on Instagram. I've started reviewing shows on Tweezine. I've got quite a Pinterest following. I comment on YouTube videos and sometimes have conversations.

But this is where I get to be the most real. My thoughts don't get interrupted by others'. I can go into more detail without worrying about losing anyone.

I'll keep blogging. At the moment I'm not sure if I'll stick to a schedule but I know poems, chapters, memories, and definitions will continue to be posted.

---

Today's phrase: Suicidal Ideation

Proper definition
Medical News Today -  Suicidal thoughts, also known as suicidal ideation are thoughts about how to kill oneself, which can range from a detailed plan to a fleeting consideration and does not include the final act of killing oneself

Wikipedia - concerns thoughts about or an unusual preoccupation with suicide/death

Valleybehavioral.com - Suicidal ideation is broken down into two forms: active and passive. Active suicidal ideation involves an existing wish to die accompanied by a plan for how to carry out the death. Passive suicidal ideation involves a desire to die, but without a specific plan for carrying out the death

My comments - I fully understand the first.

The second confuses me only because of "unusual". Maybe it is because I've been around death a lot or it's because I suffer from Suicidal Ideation but it just really stands out to me. How would one measure an  "unusual" amount? I've been weirded out by how much some people I know talk about death. Is that a sign for me to worry about them?

The third definition is great. I think I operate life in a passive S.I. state but have moments through the day of active S.I.

In Real Life

I cannot speak for everyone who suffers from it. But I can share what it means for me.

Almost every bad moment leads to a thought of "wouldn't it be better if I was dead?" "If I was dead, I wouldn't feel anything. I wouldn't feel like this now." "If I was gone, I wouldn't have said, did the wrong thing. This person wouldn't feel this way."

Suicidal Ideation is never knowing when a bad moment will come but knowing that when it does, bad thoughts won't be far behind.

It's walking down stairs and thinking "if I miss one, just one little tumble or skip, I'll end up on the floor, possibly with bones twisted in interesting and exciting ways."

It's walking down the street and waiting to cross thinking "if I leap out now, would the car screech to a stop soon enough?"

It's sitting around the house and moving to pick something up. It's that little thought, "how pretty would my arms be, dripping red? Which way would the knive, scissors, razor swerve if I just let it drop and let gravity do the work?"

It's the little moments like missing a bus, losing your keys, not charging your phone that has you questioning everything. "Is there even a point? I'll do the same thing next week, or something worse tomorrow. Is there a reason to wait and see what kind of new terrible things I can just barely get through?"

It's knowing that even though these thoughts exist, even though your head is always a mess and making you sad to have to hear and visualize these painful things, you will never complete them.

It's wondering if surviving can really be considered being strong, as they say, or just cowardly. If taking the plunge is something you won't do simply because it inconveniences you, does it count? Wondering if such a reason not to is really reason enough. People have made it through because they don't want to die. But you? You've made it through because you can't be bothered to take the time.

It's knowing that's not healthy. That people would be sad to see you go. That people would become a little more lost and a little less whole. And yet, that not being enough for the thoughts to stop.

It's not knowing how to ask the questions "how are you feeling" "what's wrong" and "are you okay?" Because what are you supposed to say? "I'm fighting off thoughts of how to end myself." "I'm sad because I have these thoughts that don't benefit anyone." Or "I'm sorry, I'm not really here. I'm watching everyone say goodbye and seeing them attend what is the happiest day of my life. I guess, it's not really the happiest day of my life because I would have to be there, but it's not a great day for them all. Can I feel bad for them when I'm the one who caused the bad day?"

It's shaking off those questions as best you can. And not making anyone aware of the sadness in your head.

The thoughts are a part of who I am. A day going by without such things in my head has never existed. 20 years old and inching along, 13 years old when I wanted to live in multiple world's of fiction, 8 years old when my mom died, 5 years old when I still couldn't pronounce my own name and I was so ashamed, 3 years old when I would cut my hair for disappointing myself, bite my nails when I was anxious, eat paper when I felt empty. All these stages in my life have been met and passed with these thoughts by my side, so loyally.

The only way to survive is to accept them as they are, ignore them the best I can, and live life as fully as I want to in each given moment.

I don't know if there will be a day when I'm able to do all that "normal" people my age do. I don't know if I'll ever want the same things they want. But I will continue to age. I will make the thoughts go away as quickly as I can and never, ever act. Because that is the rest of who I am.

Poem:

On some days
Days like today
Days where I didn't want to fight
Days when I started to see light
Before darkness crept back in
Down into my soul, in the blood under my skin

On those terrible, dreaded days
This is what keeps me afloat
Because who do I want to transfer the pain to
To my beautiful baby cousins who know nothing of the world?
To my brother and aunt who tried to raise me as their own little girl?
To my sisters with whom I've fought this battle, we three who lived it all?
To my friends who know dark gray, not endless black but wish I wouldn't fall?

No
Struggle as I might
I will bear the pain
Because I don't want to go
Six feet under
With a smile on my face
While a part of everyone else
Breaks off and fades away

ARFID

Mental Health Awareness week was 12 days ago.

It's been a month of mental health for me. I started blogging again. I've been writing quotes and short recounts of pain. I went to a forum yesterday called "Breaking the Silence." It was nice to hear stories from others and to hear the enthusiasm for gaining understa5fnding on mental health.

I have come to accept two more disorders. I still have to talk to my doctors but I can pretty safely say I have Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder and Nightmare Disorder.

I avoid eating. I tell myself I can eat later. I restrict the foods I eat. I have about 50 safe foods so I'm better off than most people with the disorder. I have foods I have trouble looking at, even think about. My throat will start closing up and I get anxious.

But I make myself get food when I can. I force myself to eat just a little more. I'm trying to figure out what foods I can always eat. 100% safe foods. My physician told me not to go under 120. I don't know what's going to happen if I do. Right now that's 1 pound away. A 1 pound buffer, if you will. Can I keep from losing that safety net?

I was really worried about my weight from 6-9 y/o. I was in the 60s for about 2.5 years. I was terrified I'd never gain weight. That I would look gross. That I wouldn't grow correctly. That I wouldn't be average height or weight. I was used to being average.

I remember going shopping with my mom. I would choose foods that looked good to me. She'd ask about things I usually ate and I'd say no.

One memory from 2nd grade haunts me.

Mom: Purple Owl, get your backpack and come to the dining room.

Purple Owl looks at her backpack and sighs. School, again.

Purple Owl: Here I am. Do I have to go?

Mom: Yes. Here's your lunch.

Purple Owl takes the bag and opens it. Ew, a sandwich, fruit, and juice box.

Purple Owl: I don't want this.

Mom: Purple Owl, you need to eat.

Purple Owl: But I can't eat this.

Mom: Do you have your lunch ticket?

Purple Owl nods.

Mom: You can take the lunch and then you'll have two choices.

Purple Owl: But what if I don't want either?

Sisters: Mom, we're ready.

Mom, packing her bag: Okay girls. We'll be right there. Purple Owl, you have to eat something. We talked about this. You want to gain weight. You promised you'd eat lunch everyday.

Purple Owl's eyes light up.

Purple Owl: I want a Slim Fast.

Mom: They’re for weight loss or management. It's for adults. You don't need it.

Purple Owl: You've let me have some before. And if the serving size is for adults, it's different for children.

Mom: You promise to drink it?

Purple Owl bobs her head up and down.

Purple Owl: Yes. It's yummy.

Mom: And you're not taking it just to be like me?

Purple Owl shakes her head and entire body.

Purple Owl: No. It makes me hungry but it's also filling. I want to drink it.

Mom: Okay you can take it. Put the lunch bag in the fridge. Maybe you'll have it as a snack.

Purple Owl opens the pantry and chooses a chocolate Slim Fast. She makes room for it in her school bag. Purple Owl puts the lunch in the fridge. She wrinkles her nose. Not eating that today.

She skips to the living room and joins her family.

The lunch lady asked me three times if that's all I had for lunch. I think she thought my mom was neglectful, forcing me to diet, or unaware of dietary needs. She didn't know that my mom just wanted me to eat something, anything. She didn't know that I fought for the Slim Fast.

As for Nightmare Disorder, I thought everyone had nightmares, especially children. I blamed it on an overactive imagination and any intense movie or story. I didn't know that 1 to 3 bad dreams a night was a problem. I didn't know that remembering dreams for years was odd.

I have about 6 recurring dreams that started at some point in childhood or adolescence. A few years will go by between them. And each time they come back, it's like I'm welcoming an old friend. As I squeeze myself into a ball and wrap up in my blankets, I feel slightly comforted recalling the details. At least my dreams always have my back. They always want to visit.

Is that a normal way to relax from nightmares? Well it's my way. And it's not like I can go talk to someone about my bad dream in the middle of the night. Talk about my fear of going back to bed. Talk about my fear of what my brain is going to think up next.

I know about these disorders now. I'll work to get more information on them. I'll work to understand what they mean for me. And I can work with my doctors and others to find ways to face them head on. And that's a better place than I was in before.

Worst Day of 2015 - 10/14/15

So far this year I've dislocated my knee, had a reaction to medication, dreamt I was assaulted, and had a major withdrawal.

But today was the worst day of the year.

So yesterday I slept in by accident. And then I laid in bed for more than 2 hours, not wanting to live, let alone think about school projects. I had an okay day, once again not accomplishing or eating all I wanted to. And then, I had to spend time with people. People I love but don't understand me. By the end of day, I was wondering if I'm the weirdest person on the planet or an alien. I'm different and a waste.

Anyway, I was up until 1am getting ready for school. Then my meds and night routine. And off to bed.

I woke up at 5:30 am to a hazy version of my repeat assault dream. I got down from bed and started my morning routine. Drinking water I hate to start my metabolism and prepare for the heat. Eating though I don't want to. Packing food I won't want to eat. Getting my bags ready for a school day and project I don't want to go through. Trying to find clothes that fit the temperature throughout the day and my body that's wasting itself away.

I got to the bus stop, 85% convinced today would be good. Had a nice enough conversation with a guy about what time the bus was coming. And started listening to my beautiful music. The bus came. I got on.

Three minutes into the ride, I realized I couldn't do it and closed my eyes. (My sleep aid was probably still kicking in.) Music, breathing, and waiting for my stop.

Off the bus now, I went across the street and put more money on my card. Trying not to think about my account amount. Sitting, waiting, and reminding myself to breath. When the bus finally came, I sat down and immediately closed my eyes. I got off soon enough, my knee hurting form the harsh stop.

Up to my classroom, not caring about stares for mouthing and gesturing along to my music. Smiling at my teacher and sitting in the classroom with 5 other people. Putting out water and tea I didn’t want to drink but would force myself to. My headphones stayed on. My music is my lifeline, my central gravity. I did some class reading. Decided to get my grades before class, like everyone else.

Class was good as usual. My teacher is wonderful. Only problem being students not majoring in child development complaining about the discussion topic. I shouldn't let it bother me but it does. (Like everything.)

Realized after class that I really should follow through with asking my 1st teacher for the last thing I needed in my 2nd class' first aid kit. "It's just borrowing." "She's a really nice person." "The fact that you failed to obtain this one thing isn't going to ruin her opinion of you." She didn't have it. Slightly stressed (about a project I didn't care about yesterday). But talking to her made me happy. She's a nice part of my day.

Off to my next class. Started a waffle sandwich because I hadn't eaten in 2.5 hours. Forced myself to eat half. Very worried about this 20/300 point project. (If you're going to do something, you have to do it right. Right?) And then, we don't even start with it. But that's alright. My teacher is fun to listen to and very informative. My tablemates are engaging. The grading waited until the end of class.

Then I realized I didn't plan how I was get home. Found 2 buses with the least walking. (Knee hurts, after all. Want to just cut it off. And wearing full length jeans in 90+ degree weather.) But it wasn't coming for 50 minutes. Waited on campus. Music. Continued reading. Started doing my hair to do something with my hands (even though I don't believe in doing hair in public. It's amazing what you get over when you're out of energy to care). Off campus to my bus stop with my hair 70% done. Waited 20 minutes mainly in the sun. Worried my phone may die. (40% scares me while I'm out of the house.)

1st bus was 15 minutes late. Rode listening to music trying not to panic about missing my 2nd bus. Trying to convince myself to get off at my stop and not ride until wherever. (After all, I had work.)

But the 2nd bus was also late. So it was okay. Waiting in the sun, drinking juice and chewing jum. (I'm developing an oral fixation.) I got on the bus, glad I put more money on my card than I had originally planned. Once on the bus, I realized I was sweating too much (minor withdrawal and overheating). I didn't have much left.

Got off the bus. Saw my house and kept my eye on it as I tried to just get inside. Upstairs, in house, took apart my bags, and took a nap.

Woke up 3 times from a horrible food guilt related nightmare. I was having trouble breathing. Couldn't tell if it was physical or mental but it didn't matter. I was late for work. Got dressed on the coolest thing I could find, got water, and left.

I walked down the street singing my favorite calming and reassuring song. Tried to relax, turned the corner and fought a panic attack. Can't have an attack with a child (#1 fear). "Put it off."

Both of us were a little off so it wasn't as enjoyable as usual. As I walked home I told myself to just get home. It didn't work, completely.

Crying on the street has always been another big fear. And today it was realized. Twice.

Straight to the bathroom, ignoring my sister. Cleaned up, calmed down, went out and apologized. She understood. We sat together for a moment. I got a cold pack for my head and went to bed to lay down and relax. Up 30 minutes later, picked out comfortable clothes that make me feel less disgusted with my body. Cold shower, repacked my food and bag. And out I went.

I took my hair out as I walked. I changed my mind about having it up. ("So did I waste that energy earlier, the precious calories?") I smiled at an older lady because smiles are contagious and she has earned a right to joy by surviving life so long. (Is it narcissistic to think of my own smile as a gem? It's only because people tell my it's cute.)

And at this point I realized I was overreacting. Yeah the week, month, year (lifetime) hasn't been going according to plan. But moping isn't going to help. Worrying about my lack of energy (calories and patience), possible panic attacks, and bouts of misery isn't going to delay any of it.

Both my charge and I were more conversational. I enjoyed the time.

I had dinner with friends. (My excitement had been going back and forth all day.) I had fun.

I came home and got to be truly alone for the first time today. Peacefully and unstressed alone, favorite music and my phone.

Once people came home, there were moments I was unhappy with the conversations. But I was ready. Finally.

So yes, it was the worst day of this year. Yes, a couple of my biggest fears were realized or close to it. And yes, the bad part of the day takes up most of the space but I'm here.

And at the moment, don't mind being alive. What more can I ask for?

If I can make it through today, I can make it through any day.

10/15/15 update: wasn't so neutral about being alive most of the day. Woke up continuously for 3 hours with nightmares. Weak all day, physically and emotionally. I was so sure I would faint at some point. A period, 400 calories, and lots of walking will do that to you. But today (well, Friday morning at 0:31), I'm kinda liking existing. Hope I wake up feeling the same.