this song always makes me feel so melancholy which is good because it makes me think but then bad because I love this song but end up kind of sad when I listen to it. its so beautiful though! I dunno, reminds me of freshman year, spring in the convo - specifically running on the bike path towards o’bleness. I don’t know why the bike path and not the boat or with millie or my broken heart because of eric. it reminds me of the first sunny weekend when nat and I went uptown to tropical tanning or when Alex and I spent my last dollars on chuck palahniuk books at folletts. it makes me happy because even though I was depressed, with alex, kenz, & nat I was truly happy and less rigid, and all I can think about was how carefree we were - yeah we were stressed but we were never without laughter or dumb stories or sleeping in one anothers beds.
On May 11, 1962, 38 year-old Vernon R. Alden was inaugurated as the 15th president of Ohio University. Ohio University Libraries is celebrating the 50th anniversary of President Emeritus Alden’s inauguration with a year of events and accolades.
“It is an honor for us to host the event because Alden Library was one of Alden’s most significant accomplishments during his presidency and remains one of his lasting legacies,” said Scott Seaman, dean of OU Libraries.
The celebration, which kicks off on April 28, will include art exhibits, dinners and events with special guests and speakers such as current Ohio University President Roderick McDavis, President Emeritus Charles J. Ping and Dr. Alden himself. Student reunions, including groups such as the Ohio Fellows and former library student employees, also will be part of the year-long celebration.
ok so I am done freaking the fuck out [kind of] I don’t know. for now at least. this weekend I was able to drink with natalie, apparently natalie only. I met up with some other friends at the CI on thursday and panicked and left. the next night nat and I started at tony’s and saturday we were at casa & I was able to drink for the first time in a long long long long time and not be all abusing alcohol due to anxiety & shit. so I still panicked, not full on panic, but at particular bars and around particular people I could feel my heart beating faster and my breathing become more rapid and my hands get clammy. tunnel vision, hello. part of me wants to go out wearing my hrm and see what happens. the other part of me thinks that would make me sad.
a lot of people think that ptsd is something you can just ‘get over’. [as if this is is something I chose to feel or be or biologically react to or whatever the appropriate verb is] so when I am standing in the basement at CI knowing that I need to get home, everyone is all no Ken the only way you’re going to fight this is by staying thank you, friends, I must have missed the 6 or 7 years you spent earning your doctorate in psychology. with nat though, I can be all, let’s get the fuck out & she’s all sure. it’s nice hearing natalie say ‘ken I’m really proud of you for going out tonight’ even though I was only gone for about 45 minutes, instead of goddamnit kendall get back out there and sweat!
sometimes I wonder if people can tell that I am starting to panic. part of me wants to wear a sign or begin every conversation with hey I was just diagnosed with ptsd, excuse my jittery motions, don’t be alarmed if I suddenly run away, it’s not you, it’s me but then I wonder if people can actually tell that I am uncomfortable. I think not. everyone goes on about my apparent confidence which they don’t understand is my eventual state of not giving a shit because I will not get over my shyness or that when I am ignoring everyone and being sarcastic, that’s because you’re annoying and I would prefer if you left me alone. but THEN there are the moments when I am having internal breakdowns and that’s when I wonder if anyone can tell. natalie and I were talking about this the other day - this internal conflict with having the lowest self esteem ever but then also a real freaking big ego that completely contradict one another & make trying to explain my internal dialogue frustrating which makes me stumble on my words.
"internal dialogue" wait but I just don’t get what chronic depression and generalized anxiety is. like what is therapy going to do?well, millie, hopefully it will stop the internal dialogue in my headinternal dialogue?! are you schizophrenic?…no
the Valerian knocked me out until about noon this morning. I tried to get up at 9 but my head was so heavy. also, I had some really fucked up dreams.
today is [so far] a vast improvement from yesterday. I skipped my first two classes because I was conked out. then I made a healthy breakfast and did my diabetes stuff and wrote it down in my diabetes journal and took all my pills. this is great because I haven’t been keeping track of my blood sugar / insulin for the past week and a half, and that is not something I can mess around with.
I drove to baker and parked because I could not imagine walking to my therapy session with my robot leg. therapy went well. yesterday and earlier this morning I was really angry - woah no surprise there - and I really wanted to tell my therapists and group therapy to shove it and leave me alone. but I went anyways and I felt a lot better. I feel like there I can explain a lot of my unexplainable feelings ha ha ha. therapy is starting to get more intense - it will be interesting to see how these next few weeks play out.
I should be hearing from some more schools soon. I really hope I get into a couple of them, others I’m kind of meh. but it would be nice to start getting a better idea of what city I am going to be living in so I can start looking for apartments and making drs appts and the like. oh I also don’t really mind this boot thing. I get embarrassed walking with it because it makes noise and it’s kind of hard because I have a tendency to shuffle my feet & shuffling is pretty impossible with my boot BUT I have to admit that my foot feels so much better. so I like my boot now.
taking valerian extract mixed in lemonade to hopefully have a better night’s rest. it tastes weird - like I’m swallowing grass that has soaked in lemonade. my psychiatrist recommended it to me when I complained about having trouble sleeping. I think tomorrow I will mix it in a cup of sleepy time tea because this tastes like shit. valerian is supposed to have some really cool properties though. restful sleep without that drugged feeling in the morning, more energy and a happier demeanor. it is a sedative so there is the possibility that you may become really loopy and have super realistic dreams.
today was stressful. my emotions were so powerful. thankfully I have nat. I don’t know what I would do without her, she seems to be the only person to calm me down. she really deserves like a golden medal or a million dollars for how much she has helped me. I like nat because she is not afraid to show a different perspective. I feel like sometimes people don’t do that because they don’t want to upset someone even more, but Natalie is really great at helping me understand why I am acting certain ways and why other people are acting particular ways.
I have a boot for the tendinitis in my left foot. the boot is so weird! the bottom isn’t flat, rather it is slightly curved to mimic the step the foot makes. my ankle has is not able to move & I glide slash stomp. this boot is awkward and heavy but even I can’t deny how much better my foot feels - its so nice to stand up and not feel like my foot is going to fall off. I am kind of nervous for walking around campus tomorrow. I hope people don’t laugh at me. I’m really afraid that I am going to trip or not be able to walk down a necessary step of stairs or something.
In other news, bought the Maybelline baby lips in cherry && I really love it. A great lip balm with actual color so I can stop looking so weird.
Okay I feel fucked up. Tell you all about the valerian tomorrow OKIEE
I have tendonitis. Cool. I have to walk around with a boot on my foot for the next two weeks and will be doped up on painkillers. Some people would be amped about this but I am just really pissed off. Now, I will be taking five pills in the morning and six pills at night. That is 11 pills total for a 21 year old, not counting the muscle relaxers for my stomach and the fuckton of injections for my diabetes. Besides the insulin and lovely acne meds, NONE OF THESE PILLS DO ANYTHING.
Okay cool. I’m on the highest amount of wellbutrin. Has my depression subsided? No. I take two doses of buspar. Has my anxiety decreased? No. I have strattera coursing through my blood stream at all hours of the day. Has my so-called ‘adhd’ been helped at all? No.
If anything, I am at the same place I was last year but worse. Now when I say I don’t want to do anything, I really mean it. That is no longer a euphemism for lay in bed and eat popchips or stay inside and skype my boyfriend or isolate myself and hang out with books all day or exercise like a madwoman, shower, and collapse exhausted on my sheets. nope. now when I say it, I genuinely mean lying in my bed or on the floor or sitting in a couch doing absolutely nothing. closing my eyes and talking to no one and hearing silence and not being bothered by stupid pills and doctors and diagnoses and shitty friends
I am skipping group therapy today. I didn’t want to go. Instead I am lying in bed with the arms of a giant stuffed bear around me, snuggling into a tie-dye covered beer belly with tears and snot dripping down my face.
being depressed is annoying. I feel so alone and I know that soon I will legitimately be all alone because everyone will leave me - who wants to be around a sad person?
anyways my fucking foot hurts I have no idea how you are supposed to walk with a boot on your foot and I am terrified by the idea that if I run into so&so, I will have no way to get away. tomorrow I am telling my counselor I am done. I don’t want to talk about this anymore and I don’t want to go through the stupid ptsd thing and I really want to take a leave of absence and never come back.
if you are all going to act like I am fine and nothing is wrong and that this isn’t a big deal and this is something so easy to get over… why do you keep pressuring me to do Z? why are you going to make me go through Z when apparently it’s not necessary to ask me how I am doing because the two seconds it would take to do so isn’t worth it?
will you be in Z with me? no. were you there when it happened? no. does going to Z definitely mean something is going to happen? absolutely not. and Z could take weeks, months, to figure out, to finish. and I am expected to stand in front of people I don’t know & talk about intimate and personal details of my life. yes, these particular details are traumatizing and make me sick, but they are still mine. and it’s just expected that I should give up my comfort and privacy. that I should add this extra stress to 19 hours of class and 6 hours of therapy and living in a world I am afraid of. as if this is something easy to do! as if I currently have the mental state to do this.
I want to come to this decision on my own.
If anything, I feel more alone now knowing that people know & don’t give a shit about me and how I am doing, then when no one knew & I was content with walking around half-dead, wishing I was dead. I prefer that. I would rather no one know, then know that people know and don’t care.
this whole thing is just annoying. I say that now anyway, tomorrow I will probably be crying, then I will be angry, then I will be silent, then I will be depressed etc etc
but now, it’s really annoying. I am sick of people telling me what to do. this isn’t a situation that many people are able to relate to, it’s not like offering job or college or moving or clothing advice, where personal experiences come into play. what exactly would all of you know about this process? nothing, besides what you have seen on television and read in the newspaper and heard through the grapevine. everyone wants something to be done, everyone keeps asking questions about minute details from the night, everyone keeps giving their opinion when it is not really being asked for. unless I ask you something directly, all I want out of your mouth is support. stop asking what I am going to do, & maybe think about asking how I am doing.
this is between X and Y. So why does Z have to get involved? everyone keeps saying it’s just between the two of you, it doesn’t concern anyone else. well getting something done does concern someone else, a lot of elses, and despite everyone saying you only need to worry about the two of you god knows the others involved are going to make their voices heard.
well it doesn’t matter that people get mad or angry at you easier fucking said that done. every person who has said this to me would be devastated if someone called them out on something or talked shit or made their lives miserable. I know I act strong most of the time & it’s not often that people see me having crying bouts but that doesn’t mean that I am better, that I am suddenly so much more over what happened. it’s all I think about. I think about what I should have done differently, what other people could have done differently, I think about throwing up multiple times in one day due to disgust, I remember hating myself so badly I wanted to die, overwhelmed by feelings of shame & embarrassment & regret & blame. not that many people are diagnosed with ptsd. and for some reason, when I tell people I had [and still have] these thoughts, and that I was diagnosed with one of the worst anxiety disorders, no one seems to give a shit about me. it’s all what’s going to happen, what are you going to do, and when are you going to do it? as if me suddenly being able to explain what happened has made me immune to the past two months, as if being able to cry instead of stare blankly ahead makes me unable to feel, as if what happened is really that easy to get over.
I know I kept it in for a long time. but that doesn’t mean that the time was fine and dandy. it was fucking awful. it is still fucking awful. what happened is a big deal, a huge deal, & I don’t understand why everyone seems to think that this is just something that can be discussed in an hour & be done with.
where are my friends?
but really. I don’t care. I want to be left alone. I want to curl up in a ball & bury myself under the covers & never come out. I don’t want to do this, I don’t want this extra pressure, and I am sick of people making me feel guilty when they ask the question. seriously, fuck you. don’t make me feel guilty, stop making me feel as though nothing happened, stop making me feel as though my feelings don’t mean anything, stop assuming that just because I have gad, ptsd is so much easier to deal with.
don’t fucking pretend to understand something you don’t.
having emotional breakdowns and crying and just being emotional in general makes me feel really tired && then all of a sudden I’m cracked out. my blood sugar is all over the place, not surprising because it never does what it’s supposed to. i’m blasting bitch by meredith brooks thanks to my best friend & am singing it to ex best friends.