Clarity

I did something bad, and I feel really guilty about it.  Not guilty about what I actually did, per se, but guilty over lying.  Or, at least omitting the truth and being otherwise deceitful…

Because of severe exhaustion, both physically and mentally, I have been really struggling lately to be an active participant in my life.  And, whether due to injury from 9+ concussions, lack of blood flow to the brain, medication side effects, not sleeping, migraine pain and cloudiness or simply a bad cold or a long night of vomiting, my brain fog has been absolutely debilitating.  Unsurprisingly, this has significantly impacted my academic standing.  I love my major and will study for hours on end, but I cannot seem to retain information no matter how hard I try. My short term memory is laughable, and I just feel totally “out of it” overall.

So…I took some Adderall.

One of my physicians prescribed me Adderall in 2014 to trial for hypotension and chronic fatigue and it worked beautifully.

However, the Adderall I took this time was not my prescription. I bought it.

Yes, I BOUGHT IT from a guy in our apartment complex who I knew dealt drugs. I’ve never done anything like that before. 10 little blue pills for $50.

It was almost as if a weighted, fuzzy blanket had been lifted and someone cracked a window to allow in some fresh air. My thoughts didn’t feel as loud and chaotic. I felt peaceful and calm, yet alert and capable.

$50 allowed me to catch up and succeed academically despite my broken body, saving my semester.

I didn’t experience any negative side effects. No nausea, no noticeable increase in tachycardia, no shakiness, no anxiety.

Those pills pulled me from the deepest pits of depression – both with happiness and relief over finally succeeding and getting caught up with school and the fact that I actually had some energy for once.

Sitting up wasn’t a chore. Writing an email or replying to a text message was no longer a daunting task. I looked forward to reading once again. Homework and studying didn’t feel impossible.

I experienced mental clarity for the first time since I can remember (ha ha, accidental brain fog/poor memory joke). That in itself gave me hope.

I was honestly starting to believe that I’d never be able to think again and that I was somehow past the point of fixing…but this experience has shown me that the person I used to know and love (or at least like, haha) is still in there somewhere. While I may live in a broken body, I am not broken.

I’m not sure if my moral compass was bruised along with my brain, but my feelings of relief and excitement are overshadowing my guilt and shame, at least for the time being.

I still have one left…

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Forever Romanticizing The Past

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Why is it that even the best and most beautiful memories are so painful to recall?  Life was throwing curveball after curveball for that girl in the picture, but her smile is genuine.  She lived as if she had nothing left to lose, and while that sometimes meant lingering atop tall buildings, tears streaming as she smiled at the thought of the end– somehow THAT feels more desirable than….well…THIS.  And while I know my mind is just playing tricks on me, I still find myself wishing I was back in that period of my life. My irrationality frightens me sometimes…

Lock Box

A few months ago, I bought a lock box to use on days I’m feeling especially defeated. You set it for a certain amount of time, and the box will not open until that time has passed. There are no loopholes or ways around this: trust me, I have tried. When the urges are screaming in my head and drowning out all logic, I lock away my medicines, razor blades and anything else I might use to hurt myself.

Doing this takes an indescribable amount of self-control, especially in those moments when all hope seems lost.

I don’t know whether to be ashamed or proud of myself.

And I need grace
To step inside my mind and help me be a better person
Or at least a better version of me
‘Cause right now, all I wanna do is scream that I need grace
‘Cause I’m running low on faith
And I really wanna change my heart
‘Cause I’m falling apart these days
And what I really need is grace…

Suicide

Suicide has always been a part of my life, long before I fully understood its magnitude or permanency.

Looming over my head, lurking in the walking-on-eggshell good days and overpowering all else on days bad, until it slowly seeped into every pore of my being.

Suicide taught me to drive at age 13, up and down dark roads at night searching for my mother. Peering down over bridges, terrified at the thought of finding her yet somehow more afraid I wouldn’t.

Mourning my father, trembling in his jacket as I inhaled the familiar mixture of leather and cigarette smoke. My heart leapt when he came home a few days later, my absolute elation masking my blood-stained bewilderment. Holding him as tight as I could until its next attack.

Suicide taught me the true meaning of fear.

Uncertainty. A chill down your spine.

A threat keeping me in line. A sense of impending doom.

Abandonment. Turmoil. Anger. Despair.

Is it any wonder tops of tall buildings mock me on my way to class and rusty dissection tools call my name?

Whether it resides beneath my skin, whispering in my ear or walks one step behind me, biting at my heels varies day-to-day…

But it’s always there. Waiting. Watching.

I long to be free of its grasp.  I envy those with a will to live.

And yet…
It’s comforting in its familiarity.

Like a childhood blanket, fraying at the edges, suicide wrapped me in its embrace through every dark night of my childhood– a twisted element of consistency through the chaos.

Without suicide, how could I face the past? The present? The future?

What would be left of me?

 

I Missed You <3

I never knew it was possible to miss someone you had never actually met, but that is always how we felt. The first thing we said upon embracing each other for the first time was, “I MISSED YOU!!!” ♥️

I got to see my Em!!

While we lived on opposite sides of the country most of our lives, this girl been with me through it all– my first real spoonie friend! In the past 4.5 years we’ve been friends, we’ve spent countless nights on the phone, FaceTiming IMG_4268until dawn, supporting each other through life’s craziness & trying to make sense of the world. We were both so sick & oh so scared when we met…dealing with mysterious & debilitating symptoms, overwhelmed as we collected diagnosis after diagnosis. We spent hours talking about everything & nothing at all, often staying on the line with little lullabies or reassuring words until the other was asleep.

Crazy to look back & see how far we’ve come! I truly don’t know what I would have done without her all those years.

This girl sees me- even when I try so hard to hide inside myself. She makes me laugh with her sarcasm & morbid sense of humor. She holds me & reassures me when I’m sick, telling me not to be embarrassed. She reminds me it’s okay to break down sometimes & loves me right through it. She makes me feel accepted, wanted- completely safe & loved.

I can’t help but smile when I look at the beautiful young woman before me. Em, I’m so beyond proud of everything you’ve overcome & the person you are today. You inspire me & I am beyond blessed to call you my friend & little sissy 💕 My heart is so, so full!

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