Pure Rage

Let's start this post out nicely... I don't want any comments. I love you all, but no comments on this post. Mostly, I probably shouldn't be posting this but 1) I need to vent, 2) I'm trying to be straight with y'all about the struggles of life in case somebody out there in the virtual space of the world feels the same way, I don't want them thinking they are alone, and 3) there is too much rage, moving through my mind too quickly, for me to be able to hand-write the shit I'm feeling in a paper journal so that I can burn it later. Thus, my online outlet which you can choose to read, or not. Completely your choice. THERE WILL BE LOTS OF CURSE WORDS USED THROUGHOUT!!! Are they necessary? Not usually, but every once in awhile it is absolutely required. Right now, just know that this post will be long, and it could be about half the length if I didn't use so much profanity.

*****PROCEED WITH CAUTION*****ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK*****

No. I should be screaming these things from entirety of my being, into a canyon somewhere, where nobody can hear me, where I later collapse into a ball of a shell of a girl who's merely trying to hang on in a world where she doesn't belong living a life she does not understand at all.

Let's also preface this by saying that for the past several days, I'm in one of my moods. Yes, I have several moods that rotate throughout my days. None of them are really actually good. Some have "good" moments, I suppose, but I cannot find the good in my life. Present mood: contemplating the purpose of existence and how my life fits in with the plan of creation. I've been feeling dissociated and in a haze for the last week and a half also. I felt that necessary to point out as well.

Another nursing school buddy got married, I think today. Which, btw, is an odd day to have a legit wedding, seeing as it's Monday. But I digress and continue on with my ridiculously long post about things I've said in the past but am still mulling over in my obviously not healed mind...

Another girl got married. Now, I am happy for her, I truly am. She was a great girl, she's super smart, and she's been with this guy for a long time. She wasn't pressuring him to get married or engaged, and she seems relatively grounded.

I'm upset at the death of my future. I'm upset that my dreams of a future, and what I wanted for dating and marriage didn't even have a fucking shot at happening because two assholes decided that my wishes are not worth honoring. I'm fucking pissed that I didn't get a say. I'm enraged that nobody is fighting for me and that nothing will come of the pain I've been forced to survive. Can G-d handle it? Absolutely. Is He not the one who is in charge of revenge and setting wrongs right? He absolutely is! That's not what I'm saying. I don't even know what I'm saying any more but I know I'm upset.

The hand of tragedy and trauma is dealt randomly, I think. I don't know, maybe it's not. Maybe we are predestined to be forced to live through shitty circumstances that make us want to die on a daily basis, but somehow we're supposed to see how long we last before saying that we've had enough and throwing in the towel. Maybe, somehow, we're paying for the sins we've committed, or the sins that some person in our family tree committed a hundred years in the past. Maybe our suffering is somehow part of some atonement process that doesn't actually atone for anything because our suffering can pay for no sin or mistakes, but we still have to go through that. I DON'T FUCKING KNOW! I do know, however, that even though I sin, I don't know what mistakes justify a person having to live through fucking trauma, rape, incest, domestic abuse, emotional abuse, gas lighting, constant ragging, the death of innocent people who have done nothing wrong, or any other trauma. Most trauma makes no fucking sense. Most of it has no noticeable purpose, no rhyme, no reason, nothing! Nothing! NOTHING!

Why, then, are we still having to live through such things. More importantly, why do some people go through life without ever experiencing trauma, or major life troubles, while others get clobbered around every FUCKING CORNER???!!!!!??? I'm not saying I'm necessarily one of them, but 3 people resulting in more traumas than I can count in a year and a half is a little fucking excessive to me.

I don't know, maybe that's just me. Eventually, I'll get over it. Except not. No. This shit never goes away until the day my heart stops and I get to be done. Perhaps then I will be free from these hellish memories and the pains that stab me in the chest. Hopefully, someday, I will be cut loose of the chains that bring me back to my pits of despair when I think of the beautiful wedding night I wanted, the dreams of being STD/STI free with no doubts in my mind about my status in that area, and I will put to rest my living nightmares that play over and over in my head, constantly. Did I have a choice of having a beautiful wedding night? No. Can I know for certain right now that I am presently STD/STI free? I have no fucking clue and I get panic attacks daily thinking that I may have one and not knowing. Yes, I can go get tested, but I'm still just not ready to drag myself to my death sentence just yet. Will I ever be free from these nightmare memories that run on loops in my brain? Not until the day I die or the day somebody develops an amnesia treatment that only lets you erase certain memories. Honestly, I'm not holding my breath for that treatment, but the end of my days is rapidly approaching, I'm sure.

You know what's hilarious to me, though? (Now, keep with me because that was solid fucking sarcasm). I have watched over 5 stand-up comedians over the past couple of hours that are on Netflix and all of them make jokes about rape and molestation within the first 5-10 minutes. 

Back to being serious, there is absolutely nothing funny about rape, molestation, incest, sexual assault, domestic abuse, beating your wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend/child/parent/etc. There is nothing funny about abuse, at all! There's nothing funny about PTSD, war, slavery, or any other things like that. What bugs me the most, is that people who have never fucking lived in my damn shoes is going to make jokes about my life being ruined because the act that cause my life to be ruined is apparently funny to them. It's hilarious to them! The whole crown erupts with laughter when these people make these jokes! It makes my blood boil, it sends me into immediate flashbacks every time, and then I look at how our society deals with such troubling topics and the lack of sentencing and punishments make sense. My life makes less and less sense, but it makes sense that the fucking statistics grows for the events of rape that occur each day because it's all just a joke. 

My suffering is a joke. It's something I have to keep hush hush, because it bums people out. Nobody wants to hear my woes. I'm just regretful of allowing the guys to enter my body, because I let them do it. I must have wanted them to do it. My response to that: NOBODY WANT TO BE FUCKING RAPED!!! NOBODY WANTS THEIR LIFE TO BE RUINED AT THE HANDS OF SOME ASSHOLE WITH A FUCKING PENIS BECAUSE THEY FEEL THEY HAVE A RIGHT TO ENTER MY BODY. NOBODY WANTS CONSTANT WORRIES ABOUT THEIR STD/STI STATUS WHEN THEY HAD WANTED TO REMAIN VIRGIN, OR EVEN IF THEY WERE WILLING TO HAVE SEX AT SOME POINT, THE ONE TIME THAT THEY SAY NO AND THE GUY DOES NOT RESPECT THAT, THERE IS TRAUMA. SOMETHING, IN THAT PICTURE, IS NOT RIGHT.

What's so hard to understand about that? Apparently, it about as difficult as rocket science to understand... for many people who have never experienced rape, sexual assault, abuse, or any of the other many listed things already mentioned, or one of the hundreds of things I never even mentioned because there is too much!!! There's too much.

What has rape cost me? It's cost me: friends, family, sanity, sleep, good dreams, peace, any hope of love, joy, gladness in my adult life, excitement for post-graduation happenings, hope of having children, and my future, among other things.

I'm angry that some people live such beautiful, wonderful, sweet, amazing lives while I'm stuck in this. I'm overwhelmed at the constant waves of shit washing over me. I hate that just when I start to feel like I'm doing better, I get bombarded again with my hellish reality. I hate that I don't feel worthy of a happy life, and I feel guilty even, for what has happened, even though I can rationalize the events as me not being at fault for the actions that took place.

While most girls my age are dreaming of their futures, I'm sitting here wondering what I have done to deserve such shit. I wonder why it is that I'm here, what purpose my life plays in the Grand Scheme of things. Mostly, I'm left feeling overwhelmed at the magnitude of evil rising up around me on every side. I am suffocated by the fears of what a health check would bring. My past haunts me and chases my happiness away. The simple joys of life are completely lost on me, and I'm simply treading water in the middle of the biggest, stormiest ocean in the universe. I find myself praying that 1) I am free of disease and health complications and 2) that my life ends soon and that somehow, somebody remembers me with fondness.

I've been thinking about all the people I've lost in my life. They didn't die, most of them haven't, but they've left me or I've left them for various reasons. If my former friends heard I died, or came across my obituary, would they say I got what I had coming? Would they be glad I was gone because they didn't like me? Would they be sad at how things ended? Would they mourn the loss or get over it quickly by saying "Oh, that's sad. Was it suicide?" Would they come to a funeral, if there was one, or would they visit my grave and visit/yell at me the way I do with Country Boy? Would they remember me for being sweet, kind, and dreaming of a bright future? Or will they recall my bipolar, my grouchiness, and the way in which I made them upset by enforcing boundaries and refusing to take their shit. Would they ask how I died, prying for if my death were self-inflicted? Or would they hope that suddenly, my troubles were gone and I no longer lived with the shame and pain and scars this life has given to me. What would my obituary say? Who would even read it? How could my family even invite anyone to my funeral? Nobody would come except family, and then friends supporting my family. I would have no friends there because there is nobody left.

Does my life even make a difference? For anyone? (All rhetorical questions, you don't need to comment.)?




So what is the point of my sufferings? What is the point of anyone's sufferings? I know I'm not the only in pain over the hand this life has dealt. Of the numerous times I was supposed to die over the course of my life, from the time I was conceived until now, why was I not allowed to just fucking die??? I could have died free of pain. I could have died pure. I could have died and not even experienced the fight of life. Instead, I was kept alive. I keep having to be kept alive. I keep having to fight another day and suffer through.

I know the Good L-rd provides. He provides for my needs, my happiness, my joy, and everything good in this universe and beyond. He gives every good things. I know He gets me through the trauma, He gets me through the night, and He keeps me alive for another day. What I don't know, and what I don't understand, is why the hell I cannot just go ahead and cease breathing so I can be put out of my misery? Why can my heart not just take a permanent break and allow me to slip away? What is the purpose of allowing me to continue to suffer with the after-math of the consequences of sin. Not even just my sin! I'm suffering from the consequences of other people's sins too!!! Shit like this happens every day. Not so good people suffer no issues, while others suffer for personal sins as well as for the sins of the not so good people.



I keep feeling compelled to start working on forgiveness so I can try to move on. I think it's from the L-rd. I want to be ready to do that. I want to be ready to shoulder the pain and move on, but right now, the baggage is too heavy to be able to move away from anger and head towards full forgiveness. I don't know what I'm supposed to do.

I deal with being scared of what problems I have with health and my mental well-being on a daily basis. I fear the future because I see little chance of my story ending well any time soon. I know I'm not supposed to worry about the future, because what will I change by worrying about the future? Nothing. However, a happy, good future will take a billion and five miracles and I feel that's just too excessive for one person to be given in a lifetime. It doesn't matter what I feel I deserve or don't, it's ultimately up to G-d. I have no say. I'm just saying that statistically, the odds are not in my favor and I long for release from my pains and struggles bestowed upon me in this life.

I'm tired. I'm going to bed.

Ridiculously Stupid Cycle

Guys, I'm freaking out today. I was doing okay for the first time a couple days ago and now I'm headed back into the sad part of my cycle. I'm freaking out because I'm terrified I have an STD.

I know, I shouldn't be worrying and then refuse to go get tested. Thing is, I didn't want the contact that spreads STDs. It wasn't my choice. I could choose for the guys to have protection. I didn't choose any of it. That makes me angry. If I had a choice in any part of the matter at all, then I wouldn't be in this predicament.

I'm angry because I didn't get a choice. I'm angry because if I do have one, then I feel like my life is over because I don't want a husband to get it, if I have anything, and I damn sure don't want kids to get it. So then marriage and children are out of the picture for me.

That was my nightmare last night. That I had an STD.

I know I should go get tested but I'm terrified that it will be the end of my life and dreams.



I'm hoping I can just get to counseling tomorrow. I look forward to having it twice a week because I'm not doing well going so far out between sessions. I feel better the first few days and then I start sinking again about mid-way through the week once it gets to about Thursday or Friday and then my weekends are shit.

On a positive note, I got a snow day today. I really needed it. I'm just hoping I get to start clinicals tomorrow because it'll be the first day of OB clinicals and I'm on the Mom/Baby floor. Yay!

Hopeful Beginnings

Counseling began today. I went in for paperwork and we went right into a session. Praise the L-rd! It was killing me that three session and a screening interview at the other place got me no where. I even told my new counselor that I was frustrated with the other lady for not really getting anywhere. I get the need to build rapport and ease some people in but I am ready to get down and dirty and get help. This kind of a thing doesn't need slow progress into it. I needs a quick acting, intense help to get people past their trauma into a functioning mindset again.

Well, I was officially diagnosed with severe PTSD today. It makes me sad, but it also makes me feel less crazy because nobody believed me when it was self-diagnosed. Now it's believable because my counselor gave me the title? Maybe if she finally diagnoses me with my anxiety disorders, depression and/or bipolar II, then people will believe me about those ones too. Goodness, I have the book psychiatrists, counselors, etc. use to diagnose stuff. I'm not making shit up.

Anyway, counseling went well. After she glanced (and I mean glanced) at my paperwork, she asked straight away: "So, what's your story?" I went through it all and she started connecting dots nobody else really ever has. I am so blessed to have been able to be assigned to her. Thank you L-rd! I talked about Country Boy, EXboyfriend, EXfiance, and all of my fears that I put in my post "Forgiveness?" She noticed that spring is likely to be a tough time for me; Country boy died, I broke up with Exboyfriend and met Exfiance all in the spring months, just a year apart. She warned me that this spring would likely be rough because I'll probably start remembering dates or the rapes, and deaths, and everything else that went to hell in a hand-basket within a couple month's time. I had already suspected that because this past March was tough a whole week before and after the anniversary of his death and then also the week before and after his birthday. These all coincide so from mid-March to mid-April I'm a complete mess. Now that will extend from mid-March to mid-May and it will all come back again in July. Great.

She basically told me I've been living in survival mode since the first rape (over 9 months). My only homework was to make sure I was eating, and eating things that actually count and provide fuel for my body so that I could start to work on the mental healing.  


So, I really like her. I spent most of the hour crying and she finished saying: "You seem like such a sweet girl. Someone who tries to see the best in everyone and also someone who takes everyone else's baggage. That's a heavy load. You also seem to blame yourself for a lot of things that aren't in your control and they aren't your fault." Between her saying these things and her asking for my story, I felt so comforted and understood after this session. I didn't feel this way after talking with the first psychologist/psychiatrist person I saw. I'm so grateful to be able to be with this new lady.

Thank you L-rd for providing this woman, right when I needed her, right in the nick of time.


Exfiance knew I was going to counseling and he called right when it was over. We started talking about if he was excited or nervous for his session in a few days. He said he'd probably tell the therapist to "fuck off" and then leave. I told him it's dumb to even go if he wasn't going to put any effort forth. He said he was only going to "fix us".  

OH MY GOSH!!!

How many times do I have to tell him I'm not getting back together with him? I told him I didn't want to get back together with him. He questioned if I was doing the right thing. I said yes. He said he was trying to do the right thing for us. I told him that he was trying to do the right thing for him and that him trying to get me back was not in my best interest but his. Haha, that pissed him off and he told me he was going to hang up. I said okay! Bye! Hahaha, I don't want to say I win but I definitely did. I'm so over his shit and he thinks I'm dumb enough to go back with him! Sorry, but no. You need to leave me alone you fucker.

Again, I'm sorry for the bad language right after praising the L-rd for His provisions. I'm working out anger... and a lot of other stuff.

Regardless, the pervasive song that keeps popping into my head is "Held" by Natalie Grant. I haven't heard it in years but it keeps popping into my head at random times. Praise the L-rd for this too!

Two months is too little.
They let him go.
They had no sudden healing.
To think that providence would
Take a child from his mother while she prays
Is appalling.

Who told us we'd be rescued?
What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?
We're asking why this happens
To us who have died to live?
It's unfair.

Chorus:
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we'd be held.

This hand is bitterness.
We want to taste it, let the hatred numb our sorrow.
The wise hands opens slowly to lilies of the valley and tomorrow.

[Chorus:]
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we'd be held.

Bridge:
If hope is born of suffering.
If this is only the beginning.
Can we not wait for one hour watching for our Savior?

[Chorus:]
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we'd be held.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know, that the promise was when everything fell, we'd be held
This is what it means to be held.

Bipolar Rollercoaster of a Breakup

For those of you that have been following, this break-up has been really tough on me, but there are good things about it.

• I'm feeling stronger than I have in over a year, and probably stronger than I ever have been.
• I'm finally getting counseling (tomorrow) without anyone around to make fun of me for going. In fact, exfiance and I had a bet that he just lost and he gets to start counseling on Thursday. He was the one making fun of me for going before and now he has no place to talk.
• I'm learning to speak my mind instead of protect other people's feelings.
• I'm feeling free for the first time in a very long time. This makes me happy, some days.
•  The main thing that is making me happy since this break-up is... SO MANY GUYS ARE FLIRTING WITH ME!

Now, I am not going to act on the flirting at all right now, and not for a very long time (if ever). However, it excites me a ridiculous amount because it means guys think I'm pretty and worth talking to. A couple days after the break-up, one of the CNA's I was working with started flirting with me that night. He probably talked with me for over an hour and a half during the course of the shift.

Today I went to visit Brother at work. He works at a hookah shop and lots of people go through there in a day, but I probably wouldn't date any of them because nearly 98% probably smoke weed. Anyway, I got a compliment on my hair from one guy. Another guy came in to look around and ended up staying for about an hour talking with my brother and I. Brother said he was into me because he was trying to tell me all of his good qualities by working it "subtly" into conversation. I noticed that he was blushing, super smiley and giggly, and when he left he introduced himself to my brother an I with handshakes (I mean, who does that in college?) and after hearing my name he repeated it. He was so stinkin' cute but I won't ever pursue it because he's got a lot of red flags popping up already for him from my end. Another co-worker mentioned that Brother's manager wants to date me and all of the coworkers he works with make a point to ask when we will start dating. Plus, Brother's roommate has had a crush on me since we met two and a half years ago.

Again, I will not be allowing any of these guys to start relationships with me but it makes me feel so pretty and desirable by complete strangers. It's a confidence booster that I needed after two guys who didn't tell me I looked good after spending 3 hours to do my hair and make-up and get new clothes to look good for them. Well guys, turns out I'm kinda a catch!

When guys learn I like to shoot guns, fish, camp (real camping in tents, not "glamping" in an RV), riding horses, fixing cars, welding, cows, etc. they typically think I'm a bad-ass! The guys I dated did not. Being a church girl is typically an exciting thing. Being an almost baby nurse is typically an exciting and admirable thing. Also, it turns out I'm a frickin' fantastic girlfriend! I'll also be a great mom. The guys I dated didn't care about any of this, but most other guys I meet think this is all super exciting stuff!

Maybe G-d is just showing me that these two guys weren't the end-all-be-all for me. Maybe He's showing me that I'm desirable and there may be a guy who falls in love with everything that I am because some people think I'm great. Not to toot my own horn, but I am pretty great. Yes, I have a lot of faults and a lot of shortcomings, but I have a lot of positive attributes too.

Thank you L-rd for today being a huge confidence booster. Please protect me from now on and bring a great guy into my life. (More on the kind of guy I think I might want later, or maybe never because the list is way too long).

Oh, roommate and puppy came back today. I have been so lonely this whole month and a half of Winter Break but they're back! I'm sad break is over and I'm starting my last semester of nursing school, but I love school and I love peds/ob. I'm hoping that this semester isn't as terrible as everyone says it is. Here's to praying that I get to enjoy my last semester of nursing school instead of barely surviving with life so that school doesn't even matter (which is how 2015 turned out). Please, oh L-rd, let 2016 be better than 2015 ended up for me!!!

If this post doesn't show the ups and downs of life and bipolar disorder after the last post, I don't know what will. 

I Swear, I'm Gonna Drop Kick Somebody

Fiance went back to work a couple weeks ago. Fortunately, instead of traveling a couple states away, he was able to stay in our same state, just drive a couple hours to the new site he was assigned to. Since he is so close, I went up to visit him over the weekend. In talking while I was there, I started crying. I couldn't really explain to him why between sobs, and also because my mind was just drawing a blank. I can't put into words the feelings I get sometimes, I just knew that I was sad and angry and for some reason the tears started pouring while I was there with him. So, he hugged me until the tears stopped, then we went out for lunch.

A couple days after that, once I was back home, he was texting me but I was asleep and my phone was on silent. He texted once, then texted again an hour later. A few hours after that, he asked if I was okay because I wasn't responding.  A short while after that text, I woke up and looked at my phone. 5 texts! Only three were from him, one from roomie, and another from Dad. Anyway, fiance and I started talking and I told him I had just been asleep. However, we started talking about how I was doing, why I was mad and sad (because of ExBF). He asked me to go back to counseling.

When I first started counseling, he told me he thought it was a waste of time. I agreed because after three sessions, I had gotten nowhere in the sexual assault area of my life and I was sick of wasting time and money driving from Hometown down to College town (an hour to an hour and a half of driving). So, I cancelled my appointments and stopped going. Four months later, my flashbacks are not so bad and I'm not having so many nightmares anymore. Despite these things, my depression is the darkest it's ever been.

Before going into the relationship with fiance, I told him I have depression and bipolar. He told me that he doesn't believe in those and that I should just get over being sad. He also asked if I've ever been clinically diagnosed by a doctor, to which I replied I have not. Why do I need to go get a doctor diagnose me when I have the DSM-V book with all symptoms and I know that there is a family history of bipolar and undiagnosed bipolar that is being treated as depression? Logically, I don't feel I need an official diagnosis because that just puts a label on me that I don't want. Then meds will be prescribed to me that I don't want to be on and I will have a whole host of other problems that I do not want or need to deal with.

Now, he is probably the 5th person that has asked me to go back to counseling but nobody listens to me to know why I refuse to go back or to listen to the problems that I have at whatever time they ask. They think that counseling is a "fix" for my "temporary" problem. That's ridiculous. If you've read my earlier posts, you can see that this problem will never go away. Seeing as I had depression before the whole ExBF thing, that just means that my base-line depression is worse than it was before. I'll survive and learn to deal. I'm not going back to counseling, that was bullsh!t.

So, I tell my friends nothing, they are now starting to worry. That's bullsh!t too because they don't want to hear what I have to say but they feel like they need to know what's going on in my life. Oh my gosh people, pick a freakin' side! If you want to know, then deal with what I tell you. You don't have to live with it, I do. You'll survive (not you, my friends). If you tell me you don't want to know what's happening in my life and in my head, then don't frickin' ask! I have no way of winning with anyone because they don't understand that they are asking for contradictions to happen.

If one more person asks me, I'm just going to flat out tell them that the last time they asked what was going on, they tried to tell me what to do and then asked me to stop telling them things. Then they started pulling away and not being around me anymore. So, I stop telling them things, and then they want to start digging in my business again. I'm going to tell them that I can't handle learning to depend on people and then get ditched by them because they can't handle my sh!t. So, I am choosing to deal with it on my own the way I have my whole life. I will tell them that I will listen to their good and bad news, their struggles, and what they are excited about. But I am going to ask them/tell them not to be offended when I don't open up to them because I tried that and it obviously didn't work at all.

And if one more person tells me to go to counseling, sit in a chair, and start babbling on about random crap that pops into my head, I will drop kick them. I know they mean well, but I need to be able to feel like I am making decisions in my own life. They might be bad ones, but I'm learning. I can't do what everyone tells me to do because everyone tells me to do something completely different with my life and none of them have lived in my shoes. I also need to have some illusion that I have some control over what happens to me from now on.

Being sexually assaulted takes away any semblance of maybe having control over what happens to your own body, so I need to not feel out of control anymore. Honestly, everyone tries to take away what little power I have over my life and my healing by telling me what to do because they don't think I can make my own decision. That tells me that they believe it is my fault that I got into the situation I got into. They don't know how I fought, how scared I was, how my brain shut off, and I pretty much blacked out. These are all coping mechanisms and completely normal psychological responses to trauma. Hindsight, I wish I could have changed a lot of things and completely prevented it in the first place. Alas, that is not possible and right now I hate my life because of it. Don't take away my last chance of feeling like I might be able to make it through this without completely shutting down and not leaving my bed for food or water. I'm one step away from not having the strength or energy to take another breath, don't take that away from me.

I love you all (yes you, those who read my incessant babbling). I know you all mean well and want to help me. Mostly, it helps that you read this, or don't. This blog is pretty much my diary. I appreciate that I have somewhere to vent about everything, and anything that is going on in my life.

More Suicides!?!

Dad's friend's wife just committed suicide. Nobody knew she was depressed until they found her suicide note. She sat in a closed garage with all of their cars running and I think the husband found her. I'm still numb.

It's been a year since Country Boy died.

At lunch mom wondered how nobody could tell she was depressed. I mentioned that many people don't know when others are depressed and brought up that I have been depressed since 5th or 6th grade and she didn't know. She got sad and asked if I had ever had suicidal thoughts. I told her I tried at least 5 times in 8th grade. Mom started crying. Brother was there and he didn't know what to do. I didn't either and I still feel so bad for breaking my mom's heart like that but shouldn't she know? I went and sat next to her because we were in a restaurant and I knew she needed a hug. Now she asks me how I'm doing all the time. She told me that if I ever feel sad or if I am not happy when I get married that I shouldn't try to kill myself but should call her instead. She hasn't told Dad yet. We don't know if that would help him decide to get treatment for his depression/bipolar or if it would just hurt/anger him and possibly push him over the edge.

Life is such a struggle but no excuse to kill yourself. On a selfish note, my list of suicides needs to stop growing.

Ultrasound Results

I would like to start out saying that I went to a nurse practitioner hoping for more "nursey" care because I have had bad experiences with doctors in the past. This may not have been a wise choice. I understand that she is busy but after being intensely peppered with questions for 5 minutes, being belittled in that short time, then having results read on my voicemail by a receptionist and requesting to talk to the NP and her refusing to talk to me and only answering questions through an MA, I am beyond frustrated. Sorry for the long-winded run-on but that's how I talk when I get super excited or super frustrated. I am so frustrated.

Anyway, I got the results and the NP says that I have a "simple cyst" on my right ovary and that I will need to get another ultrasound in 2-3 months. That is the exact sentence she gave the receptionist (who has a very heavy accent, might I add, and it was barely discernable) to tell me. Freaking out, because I have no idea what that means, I call back and ask to speak to the NP. No, I'm not allowed to right then but they will put a note in my chart and the MA offered to answer what questions she could and then she would have the NP call me later. The answers were not comforting at all and only left me with more questions. Why are you guys waiting so long? Is this serious? Why is nothing else happening? Why is such a passive approach being taken when this could effect my Childbearing abilities? I mean, it's my frickin' ovary!!!

I called Mom to let her know and so I could lose it a little bit. She suggested calling Mema because Mema has been a nurse for awhile and she focuses on Post Partum and NICU. Why didn't I even think of that?! So after explaining everything that's going on, she told me that it might make having kids a little harder because of the ovulation cycle going from one ovary to the other, but she says I will likely be able to have kids because it's just one ovary being effected. She told me what else to look for and what symptoms to expect. She just explained everything and calmed me down so well and in nurse talk and true nurse fashion. Mema is just so fantastic, I am so blessed!

Next day the same MA calls back that I had talked to the previous day and she tells me the NP won't talk to me and she reiterates what the NP had already had read to me the day before on my voicemail. At this point I am beyond livid. Needless to say, I should have cancelled my Well Woman exam right then but I had left class to take the call and didn't want to waste any more time fighting with them. I'll do that another day, though, because she is obviously too busy to have me as a patient. I will also be filling out a review for her because it was not okay the way she treated me.


Do y'all remember me telling you that I thought I may have type 2 Bipolar disorder? Well, one of my cousins was recently diagnoses with it and then one of my dad's cousins (one of his favorites, no less) was recently diagnosed with it too after years of searching for answers and treatment. Mema tells me that in our family, it is passed from father to daughter and mother to son. She suspects I have it because I told her my symptoms and how I went hypomanic after finally taking some herbs to treat my depression. I may end up passing it on to my son, if I have sons, and I want 2-3.

Knowing medical/health stuff is such a blessing but occasionally it's a bit of a downer. Still, I would rather know and then be able to better plan from there than go in blind and wonder what certain outcomes meant.