*Trigger Warning: Talk of Depression, Anxiety and Suicide.*

Woke up a couple hours ago feeling pretty chipper. I’ve learned from a young age to not trust myself when I’m feeling this happy because I usually spiral into a rotten mood and bitter tears.

Ahhh, gotta love depression and bouts of shitty mania.

Depression and Anxiety
An accurate depiction of the inside of my head.


Pretty sure I’ve been depressed since I was a young child. Can’t really remember though because I’ve blocked a giant portion of my past memories. I tried to see a therapist once, but she looked like she was my age and I just couldn’t handle talking to someone who didn’t seem like she’d understand where I was coming from. I felt like I needed someone much older, who had lived through some shit and lived to tell the tale.

So I passed up on the therapy which led to skipping on the option for medication and spiraled through years of suicidal thoughts until I finally took the plunge and downed twenty prescription sleeping pills and woke up in a pile of vomit. I think I was fifteen when that happened. I remember crawling to the toilet and then waking up later that day in bed. I know someone found the evidence of what had happened and yet nothing was ever said about it. Ever. No trip to the hospital, nothing.

I thank God every day that I survived.

I really didn’t mean to tumble down into this pit of darkness and despair. I mean, realistically, this blog can’t be all sunshine and kittens. Even as I’m typing this, it feels like this happened to someone else and I know I’ve dissociated hard from the girl who’s been through so much that she felt the need to kill herself. I know it isn’t healthy to ignore it all. And yet I do.

I am a veritable pro at ignoring things that make me uncomfortable and unhappy. Into the NOPE box it goes to never again see the light of day.

In the last year, in my effort to maintain my self-care, I went through Facebook and unfollowed (and some unfriended) nearly every one of my 90 friends and family until I was left with a timeline of cute animal videos, recipes and the posts of maybe five people. I just did not want to see anything negative at a time when I was feeling incredibly vulnerable.

Self-Care can be dangerous. Because I’d went through and blocked everyone’s posts, it’s helped me lose touch with my friends and family. And because I work third shift and sleep during the day, it’s been made worse in that I’m losing touch with the outside world.

I think all the time that I’m getting cabin fever and make plans and then when it creeps up to actually going out for said plans… I break out in a cold sweat and my anxiety soars and I eventually cancel going anywhere. The thought of being around anyone besides my hubs just makes me tremble and want to cry.

My anxiety has gotten so bad that I’m finally ready to throw in the towel and get some help. I don’t know if I’m ready to rehash every terrible thing that has happened in my life but I think I’m more than ready for the sweet relief of depression medication.



I’ve pretty much never grown out of my need for simple humor, especially of the teenage boy variety. Hubby sometimes shares the same sense of humor but the poor thing has a breaking limit and oh how I make him suffer. I like to think I’ve mostly grown out of it, but sometimes I can’t help myself and I have to utter…

That's what she said.
The woman on the left? That’s his face every time.

One-Liner Wednesday was brought to you by LindaGHill.


Body Trolls (Guest Blogger!)

Hi, my name is Matt, I am the husband of the lady of the house here, and she made me a guest blogger. So here I am with the most elegant, New Yorker type post I could come up with.

This post is about body trolls.

You know how you can just be sitting around doing nothing, or up and at ’em doing everything, or whatever? And all of a sudden you get this sharp stabbing sensation on your skin in a very tiny location? Like, it makes you jump and you have to scratch the hell out of it just to get it to stop? I actually just push down on it as hard as I can with a finger nail until it goes away, cause it doesn’t itch, it just stings.

Know what I’m talking about? Well, the wife and I have those every now and then, and we decided to figure it out. So we did countless hours of research, testing, observing, and holding council with the world’s top minds to figure it out, and what we came up with in a unanimous decision was, the cause of that stabbing is a teeny tiny little troll that hangs out on your body and has an even teenier tinier dagger that it uses to stab you in the skin, just because it’s a dick.

“Fucking foot troll!”

You’ll hear that conversation in our house at any given time, coming from either of us. If it isn’t a foot troll then it’s a leg troll or an arm troll. Where ever that little bastard decided to stab you that day.
Continue reading “Body Trolls (Guest Blogger!)”