I came out as bisexual in December of 2016. When I came out it was one of the most difficult things to process and accept, and I tried to deny it every chance I got. I have slowly come to terms with it and now I am proud of it because it is part of who I am. It is no different than being straight, its just who I love, it doesn’t make me any different than anyone else. Unfortunately, many people don’t share those same views and believe that anyone in the LGBTQ+ community should be deported or shamed. People can be beyond rude to anyone in our community and it is hurtful beyond belief. What is even more hurtful is when people use “Gay” as an insult, or as a joke. Saying “thats so gay” is somewhat offensive, saying “stop being so gay” is hurtful, saying “I have a gay friend so” or “I look so gay” is hurtful. Saying “Faggot” is the most offensive thing to me and I do not want anyone in my life who says that. Saying Gay isn’t a bad thing when you don’t mean it as an insult or joke or use it to shame us. There is no reason that the LGBTQ+ community should be targeted for being ourselves. If you use any LGBTQ+ term as an insult or joke, please stop. Please think before you speak because what you say can hurt.

Educate yourself.

8/26/17 Pt.2

I felt that this post should not be be put in the same post with the rest from today. Normally this blog is me venting all of my emotion into words at the end of the day, and that how I manage my emotions to a point. However, that is not always the case. I have very strong views regarding Mental Health, as it is something that I admit I struggle with on a daily basis. I also believe that everyone has a right to their own opinions, even if I may not agree with it. Everyone has the right to share their views, while sometimes I would prefer those views be kept themselves, it is their right to express what the believe in. With that said, since mental health is something I feel very strongly about, that is the topic I will share my views on. Nobody chooses to be depressed or anxious or even suicidal. Nobody voluntarily signs up for this. It’s hurts more than any physical pain ever will. But if someone ever asked me if I would change who I am so that I would never feel this pain, I would say no. This is who I am, yes it is something I know I can’t handle on my own and I need help. But it’s a part of who I am, I understand what people feel like going through this because I do too. And it’s okay not to be okay. Truth is, I believe everyone should be open to at least trying to understand mental health. Is not a bad thing that we should be ashamed of. I am stronger because of what I’ve gone through. I know some people just truly don’t understand it, but if you simply don’t care enough to try to understand, that’s where I’m disappointed. Nobody has to learn deep into it or try to understand it on a level that we feel it, unless you want to. But to not even try to learn at all, or to bash us when you have put not effort into even learning about it, that is not okay. Like I said earlier, you have the right to your own opinion. As do I. I will not start a fight with anyone because of their views, even if I strongly disagree with them. However, I will ALWAYS stick up for what I believe in. I will not hide what I feel simply because you do not like it. This is my life and I don’t not have any obligation to share it with anyone. I will share my views because I know I am not the only one who feels the way I do. I will share my views because I feel better expressing my emotions on this blog, and if my emotions consist of anything regarding depression, anxiety, suicidal though, self harm, or anything else I struggle with, then so be it. 

It is okay not to be okay


So I’m currently sitting in my psychiatrists waiting area and having a small anxiety attack so that’s good! Oh and I have to talk to my boss about somehow firing the new student worker so that meeting is happening right when I get back. And it’s not even 9am yet. And we can’t forget the large amount of hw I have right now that is making me want to already curl up into a ball and cry! Homework is fantastic! It really helps me cry myself to sleep. Fantastic. Oh and I’m about to pay more money that leaves me with $18 for gas and food til the end of the month so yay I’m gonna go cry now. But in all seriousness I’m just sitting here waiting and my anxiety keeps getting worse and I’m literally sitting here shaking and I don’t know why I am so anxious. Like I know nothing bad is gonna happen, I’m safe. Why can’t I calm down. I don’t think it’s ever been this clear that I’m anxious in my life. And I know he’s probably gonna ask why I am so anxious and I don’t know why I’m just flipping out rn. This is one of those times I realllllllly wish I had someone to text about this. But one person is working, the other is in class, and the last one isn’t even in the country. Oh my god I’m seriously so scared rn. I’m safe what’s the issue. I’ve never been this anxious with him. Please let this appointment be quick. Ugh I don’t want to have this meeting either. Like I don’t want to have to talk about how bad work is right now. Oh my god he just came out and said it will be just a few more minutes and I’m so much more anxious. Oh my god oh my god oh my god what the hell is happening that I’m so scared right now. Well this is great. I went a few days without bad anxiety and almost forgot how bad it is, not anymore! I very much remember how anxious I am. Seriously what the fudge is happening that I can’t calm down. Helpppppp. Oh my god it’s 9:30 I’m still waiting and I’m so scared right now I can’t even. And now I will have no time between this and the meeting for work.

Guess who is in a random office parking lot because my car lost power while I was going 65mph with a semi behind me 🙋🏻. THATS RIGHT. ME BITCH. I think the fact that I never swear on here, and just did says a lot about how frustrated, scared, and aggravate I am right now. Oh, and I’ve had to go to the bathroom for almost three hours now.

A couple minutes after I finished that last sentence my parents found where I was. My dad opened to hood and didn’t see anything so decided we could drive it home. I was still sitting in the drivers seat, and my dad came up to the side of the car and said “Your gonna drive it home right” and obviously my reactions was a quick response of “You can, im not.”. I could deal with the fact that he wanted to drive it home, what I couldn’t deal with was what he said after, and I quote “Well why, there is nothing wrong with it, its fine, just drive it” and the attitude he said it with said more than words ever could. My mom called him out immediately on it and said that obviously something is wrong with it. Not only will my dad not accept me, he wont even accept that my car is a POS. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love that car, but it breaks down every two weeks and this time really scared me. What my father said wasn’t just words, to me I heard that he doesn’t care about me or my feelings and safety. I rode home with my mom, and while I was silent the entire drive home, my mom wasn’t. You could very clearly tell that I didn’t want to talk. I was upset, scared, and frustrated and nobody seemed to care. You would think that my mom would have caught on to the fact I truly just didn’t want to talk, but instead she wouldn’t stop talking. I just sat there quietly and on occasion said a one word answer. I admit, I was very upset and I could easily be hurt but why she said, but even if I wasn’t upset, this would have hurt. We weren’t too far away from home and my mom decided to bring this up:  My mom had read a article about a couple, the wife being in her mid to late 40’s, and the husband in his early 50’s. They ran a day care, all the children being pretty young, and one having a behavioral issue. At some point the child had told her parents that the couple had hurt them. The child’s parents took them to a doctor who was young and just started their career, and he claimed that a mark near the child’s genitals was proof that the child was sexually abused by the couple. The parents went to the police who had psychologists talk to all of the other children. As they spoke to the children, more claimed they were also hurt by the couple. The couple was put in jail for 20 years before the initial doctor admitted he wasn’t sure if the child was originally hurt at all, now that he had learned more about the female anatomy and learned from experience. The first child that claimed to have been hurt, was also the child that had behavioral issues. Now this wasn’t the part that bothered me, other than the fact she brought this up. What bothered me was that she said that during this time, sadism was a common issue/topic, and it was believed that psychologists could bring back memories that the child’s brain had blocked out. And that because all of the psychologists just put those memories in the children, that couple lost 20 years of their lives. That once a child, no matter what age, doesn’t remember something, then it never existed. This was what bothered me. I am going to be 20 in December, and I admit that there has been a lot that I had forgot, and now that I am talking through it all, I keep remembering more and more. That does not mean that it didn’t happen. She kept continuing on that psychology is constantly wrong and psychologists and anyone in that field just gives us “fake” memories, and that everything that they talk about is wrong. This. This is what broke my heart and made me feel as if I am nothing, all over again. Going to therapy and actually opening up was the best thing I have ever done, and I have never been so thankful that I did something in my life. This I admit, opening up to that one person, has probably saved my life. And for my mom to essentially claim that going to therapy and talking to someone who can help more than just a friend is automatically wrong and “fake”, was the most disappointing thing I could have heard on that drive home. After that, I was silent until I was about to go to my room to type all of this. I always said “goodnight, love you” and my mom always responds with the same. My dad used to do the same, now he only says goodnight to me. He never says love you back. He says it to my mom but never me. Along with that, a few minutes before that, my mom asked what my dad wanted, and he looked at me and with a attitude, said “I want a new life”. He could have said that because of the cancer, or because I really bother him that much. Am I truly that big of a failure? Is that all I even am anymore?

Its 10:39pm and I feel so much emotion yet feel nothing. I want to curl up and cry so much because I cant handle life anymore. At the same time I am so depressed I only feel that, no emotion, cant cry, cant feel. I don’t think I even have enough motivation or energy to end my life right now. I thought about overdosing, but I refuse to do that when I know that there is a large chance it will just make me sick, or I will end up in the hospital. Right now I know I would want to cut my wrists, which I usually want to do when I have a small desire to live, but not enough to stop the endless thoughts of self harm. I guess since I already don’t have much desire to live, I might as well type this, since I know I probably wont have the heart to talk about it. So there was this guy named John who was always at grandma’s house. He had some kind of mental disability, but don’t remember what it was called. Around the time I was 10 years old, he was in his mid 20’s. I remember being in the house one morning, before grandma was home from the paper route. I was in the porch area and John had walked inside and too the kitchen, and it was clear he was aggravated. Nothing good happened when he was like that, and I remember being scared. But what I also remember and never really forgot was praying, and whispering, “Please god don’t let him hurt me like that again”, and knowing it was sexual but not knowing what it was called. Looking back now, I was praying for him not to sexually abuse (or another term along the same lines) me. I have other memories of things that relate to that same issue, but one thing in particular is what I remember about almost all of those times. Every time, I remember thinking “I know it hurts, but just take a little bit more”, and thinking it as if someone had told me that. The same way I always remember thinking that doing something sexual is how a guy shows he really loves you, I remember it as someone told me it. Which I think might have actually happened because I didn’t know anything sexual, and suddenly those memories changed and I immediately had those thoughts. There a few other memories in this same sort of category that I remember, however those I am not ready to talk about. I remember one time when we were in the living room and grandma screaming at me to take off my shorts and underwear and sit on the floor, and I did. Then being told to lay on the floor with my knees up, and quickly being yelled at to move closer to her, so that she could touch me there. The last thing I remember was her putting her hand on me. I might as well go and admit this, I was snapchatting a guy in the shower and he said in a video, “I know it hurts just take a little more” and that’s when I had a flashback to that moment, and to another event that I was thinking exactly what the guy from the shower said. It makes sense how it is all connected, but its clear that there is something missing. I just don’t know what it was. I guess that might be the reason I am so scared to talk about this, i’m scared that if I talk about this, I will start to remember more. I’m also scared to talk about it because I know i’m truly not ready to talk about it. Maybe this is the one thing I truly just won’t be able to talk about.

Suicide is not for the weak.