Life's a bitch and then you die

So, here's the really amazing thing that I just figured out. All I've ever wanted to do with my life is help people. Get an education, make lots of money, give said money away. That was always the plan. Now, being a doctor was always at the head of that list. Get a medical degree, give free health care to people who can't afford it. Travel all over the world setting up hospitals and schools and making enough money to support it all. By being a doctor. The next best thing was a psychiatrist. Still a doctor, just a little bit different. Here are some other things I've wanted to be growing up-sociologist, social worker, journalist, teacher, politician, lawyer, author, actress/singer. Okay, now HERE'S the amazing part. For all of those jobs, except the last two, my mental illness, ANY mental illness, would have to be a secret. If I was a doctor, there's no way they'd let me practice while on medication for a mental illness. I've researched it, and there's not. Which is TOTAL bullshit because someone taking meds for high blood pressure, or diabetes, or asthma, or cancer, or even AIDS for christs sake would be cleared in a second! And I didn't ask for this anymore then they would ask for their illnesses! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. Why?? Why is this happening to me? GOD it just makes me so angry. And, I mean, lets be honest. What are the odds that I could really be a successful author or singer/actress????

The point is...if I can't do any of the things that I've always wanted to do, what's the point? Of living, I mean. What's the point?
I don't think there is one. But either way, where does that leave me? What am I to do now?

It's later then you think

For the last three years, it feels like time is standing still. It doesn't feel real. I don't feel real. And I'm not sure why. And it seems like the more I think about it, the deeper inside my head I go, the more confused I get. Somewhere along the line I realized that it wasn't time standing still, it was me; I just haven't figured out what to do about it yet.

I'm not a lazy, spoiled brat. I know some people think that I am, but I'm not. And who are they to judge anyway? I know most of them have good intentions, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions. And that's where I feel like I am. The point is, there are things I should have done and didn't, things I shouldn't have done and did, but those are my mistakes, and I'm allowed to make them. This is frustrating, it's like I can't say what I really mean. Maybe the point is, unless you've been through everything I have, then you really don't understand. And if you don't understand, then don't pretend that you do by telling me what's right and what's wrong. I'll figure that out on my own.

Every time you speak-

I don't think I've ever touched on this subject in public before, but I can't avoid it if I'm going to be completely honest on here about everything that's happening and everything I'm battling.
My dad...he's a good person. A good father. But the pain that he's been going through for so long, it just ravages him. I've been told he had an anger problem when he was younger, but that he had mellowed out a lot with age. Well, I would hate to have gotten him mad back then. I don't want to be mean, cruel, or out of line. But I'm over-flowing. I'm tired of wondering whether my relationship with my father will continue to go back and forth between such extremes, for how long, and really, how long can this continue before one day, it just crashes and burns into nothing but ash..? The horrible part about all of this is that sometimes, in the heat of the moment, or when I've had enough of being yelled at for nothing, just because I'm there and my dad's in pain, I think to myself how I don't even care if it doesn't get better. I think to myself, one day I'll just walk away and never come back, never even look back, and he'll be sorry he treated me like his whipping boy.
I know that I think these things because of all the pain he causes me, that I just want to cause him pain too, but the fact that I think these things at all makes me feel so...horribly selfish. I KNOW he's in so much pain, okay? I KNOW. I can't imagine the level of pain he's in constantly, how its just getting worse, and how even sleep now evads him-his only respite from everything. And when I put it all out in front of me like this, it seems even more selfish that I am so sensitive to his every word, his every look. But the way he talks to me, it's like he has no respect for me at all. And sometimes-I swear to God, I swear on my life may God strike me down, he treats his dog better then me.
I know no one will believe that, but it's true. My dad's anger over the years has funneled into a concentration of fury, which is now aimed solely at me. I'm the bottom of the funnel. I bear the brunt of his anger, and some days, it's almost enough to kill me.

I hate that I have to have a title for everything..

You wouldn't believe how hard it is to have regular sleeping hours. I know for other people, that's not even something they think about, but for me....it's huge. I love to sleep, first off. I'm also a night person, big time. Just like my mom. My dad is the complete opposite so he doesn't really understand, and I know he gets frusterated. My brother goes to sleep between 9:30 and 10:00 every night like clockwork. I, on the other hand, never have the same hours. I try! I do, but I just cannot wake up before 12:00 to save my life. I could go to sleep at 10:00 at night, just like my brother, and still sleep until 12:00. I guess that's just me.

Check out the link I enclosed in this post. Seriously. It's about baby seals and baby whales being killed and eaten and how it's completely legal! I've heard of this before but when I was going through other blogs and saw this.....it made me sick. What kind of a human being could be okay with something like that? You know, there's not many things in the world that leave me speechless...but this was one of them.

Questionable Content??

So I was talking to my mom today, (do I start all of my entries with 'so'?) and she thinks that I should be really careful with what I write on here. She said that these days, anyone can get their hands on something that you put on the internet. As in future employers. And I've been thinking about it, and if by saying that I have a mental illness I inadvertantly take myself out of the running for certain jobs, then I really don't want to work for someone that ignorant anyways. It's not like I'm admitting to murder here! This is insane! I'm not ashamed to say that I have migraines, or allergies, or horribly sensitive skin! Why doesn't anyone see that it's basically the same thing?? I didn't choose this, I didn't do anything wrong. I'm not being punished for some offense. And those who think they know me because they know about mental illness's are WRONG. If you happen to suffer from said ignorance, I don't want anything to do with you. Thanks for visiting.

On to the next. I'm actually starting to turn my sleeping around. It's very...different. I swear it seems like I've spent half of my life going to bed around 6 or 7 in the morning and getting up..whenever I woke up. Anytime between 4-10. I guess you could say I'm a night person. All night. Hahahahaha yeah...it's really not funny though. It's sad. I've missed a lot of life doing all of that sleeping while everyone else was up. I wouldn't-and still have this problem, look at my phone for days, weeks, because I was so afraid of the messages and texts and missed calls that I would have. People I had let down. People I knew I would continue to let down. It hurt, physically. I've done so much to tear myself down. And while it's happening, while I'm doing it, there are little seconds here and there where I can say to myself 'Amanda, this isn't good. You know what you're doing and you need to STOP'. But I always quickly tell myself it isn't that bad and then put it out of my mind and get on with my self destruction.
Then comes the time when you're sitting on your bed with your head in your hands, emptied of tears, not understanding how things have come to this. And you look back, and you see what you've done. And that just makes it hurt more because, for me, I had this amazing life. I had great friends who stuck by me no matter what, for as long as they could. A couple never left, period. Most started to move on and at the time it made me angry. It still makes me angry, sometimes. But now I can also see that there's only so many times that you can burn someone before they finally get the message and have to take care of themselves. No one wants to go down with the ship, no matter how much that ship means to them. But how can I get away from myself?
Sometimes it feels like I'm outside of myself. I can see or hear myself doing things but I'm in a fog, in a haze, and I don't care enough to snap myself out of it. I'm so tired, all of the time, even now. The most frusterating thing in the world is knowing that I'm doing everything people are telling me to do to try to get better, and not seeing or feeling any difference. I've come to the end of my rope over and over and over again. But I heard someone say, once, when you come to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hold on. I guess that's pretty much what I've done. I guess that's pretty much what I'm doing right now.

Other Blogs..

So it turns out that just about everyone in the world has a blog..and going through them, it seems that most of them are about gardening, God, family life (mostly just mothers trying to make nap time sound exciting), more gardening, cars, purely pictures, traveling, and, oh yeah, gardening! It's kind of depressing! What can I do to stand out from all of these other blogs..why in the world would someone rather want to hear what I have to say, versus them?
Hmm...I think it's funny that everyone in the world these days thinks that what they have to say about everyday, boring life is important and that other people are just dying to get an earful..or in this case, an eyeful. You know what I mean. Have we become that obsessed with ourselves? That narcicistic? I read somewhere that if most of your pictures on facebook are of just you, then you probably are narcicistic. Of course, this is coming from a girl who has, umm..probably one or two pictures of just me?
I don't especially like photos of myself. Maybe some of you can tell by the fact that I haven't added any new photos to anything in, well, a year? Whatever. I looked better back then anyways.

Okay..now I just need people to actually READ this thing..

You know, it's tough trying to be kind of anonymous, but still somehow get your blog out there and read. So I've decided to go public. Kind of. For all of you who just got a message from me giving you the link to my blog..well, just know that this isn't easy for me. And that I'm trusting that you won't judge too harshly.
So I was thinking, and I came to the conclusion that people aren't just going to get on here and want to hear me rant day after day about how horrible, miserable, pointless, and painful life is. So I'm going to try REAALLLY hard not to. I want this blog to be more about me on a journey to wellness. To happiness. To actually wanting to get out of bed in the morning? Somehow, it's so much easier to type this all out, even if anyone can read it, then to go to the people I'm closest to and tell them the same things I'm writing about here. Weird, right? Maybe not so much..
So my journey starts here. I just got elected to the office of Democratic Precint Committeeperson of Precint 132. Here's how that happened...there were no people who had put themselves up for election so you could either leave it blank or write someone in. My parents, almost as a joke, both wrote me in and so I decided to write myself in aswell. Next thing I know, I'm getting this official letter in the mail telling me all about my new post, if I accept (which I did. You have to sign for it and mail it back). So there it is. I am the voice for the democrats of Precinct 132. Pretty exciting, huh? From what I read, I go to all these meetings, participate in important votes and discussions, and, well, I guess that's it. But I always wondered if maybe I wanted a career in politics so I guess this will be the perfect time to find out. It gets me out of the house, anyway.
Like many mentally ill people, I take medication. At this point-please don't think I'm crazy, I'm taking an anti-depressant, two mood stabilizers-it's a long story, an anti-anxiety, an antacid, and a muscle relaxant for my tmj. Yes, I certainly do have plenty of problems. To sum them all up, from head to toe, here goes: Migraine headaches, TMJ, allergies and chronic sinus infections, a eustacian tube-that does from your ear to the back of your throat-that likes to get clogged and infected, but I haven't had problems with that in awhile, acid reflux-I've had a couple ulcers, Fibro Myalghia (spelling?), irritable bowel syndrome though that was much worse when I was younger, a hormonal imbalance-I've had at least one cyst on an ovary, a touch of dyskinesia as a side effect from a medication I once took, and a skin condition. Those don't even touch on the mental issues. But I'll save that for another day. It's really not all as bad as it sounds. But it's really easy to get wrapped up in it and feel sorry for myself.
Anyways..moving on. Health insurance. It brings up all kinds of different feelings in people these days. We lost ours-or rather, since my dad went on disability and the price went from $40, to $400, to $1400 which we were paying, but then it went up to $1700, and the only reason we were getting by was because my dad has four amazing sisters who were supporting us financially-which kills my dad, he feels he should be taking care of them, but anyways, once they raised it the last time, we stopped paying. It was too much. My dad got insurance with the VA because he's a veteran, and my brother soon got on the Oregon health plan because he's only 15, but my mom and I, well, we're kind of stuck in limbo and things aren't getting any better. We just don't have the money.
In the mean time, we're getting treatment-what little treatment we get, from the county. The last time I went in to see a mental health specialist and I needed a refil on one of my meds, she told me that none of the doctors that worked there felt comfortable overseeing my treatment because of the group of medications I'm on, which doesn't make any sense because I'd been to see my regular doctor there at least three times to get refills on medications and she knew from the get-go what I was taking and she never said a word. But anyways, the mental health specialist told me that she would refill it this time, but that I had to call and get a referal for some other psychiatrist, who I have to get in to see within the month-damn near impossible, because she won't give me another refill. Because she doesn't feel comfortable doing so. WHY DIDN'T THESE PEOPLE MENTION THIS SOONER! I've been making calls to try to get this referal and I feel like they're dragging me around in circles! I'm frusterated, I'm depressed, and now I'm just plain pissed off.
Fortunatly, I have amazing parents who advocate for me. I don't know what I'd do without them. What would I do without them? There are so many people-young and old out there getting screwed around by the health care system and it's innexcusible. It makes me sick.
I'm just hoping I can get this referal, stick to my meds and keep my head up.
Here's to hoping..

Oh! By the way..I'm getting ready to sign up for school in the fall. It'll just be at a community college for now but hey, I've got to start somewhere. And last time I was in school, I did sooo much better. I was happy. I want to get back to that. Plus my best friend is going back with me. An added bonus. Just one question...if I don't get financial aid, how the hell am I going to pay for all this? With the health stuff and the meds and now school and books..I just have to find a way to make this work.

More To This Blog..

Okay so I really want people to know that there's more to this blog then just, misery and pain. I want it to be about life, my life in general, but not just the sickness aspect. I have opinions on other things, like religon and politics and friends and family. That's another thing I want to write about-friends and family. Haha I'm not so sure how they're going to feel about me putting their buisness online....hmm but do they really have to know?? Of course, if no one even starts READING this, then I don't have to worry about it, now do I? I think that's a thought for later, hopefully after someone does start reading my blog.
It's kind of scary, you know, to put everything out there after keeping it all to yourself in a private journal or however you've been doing it, because once it's out there, it's gone. You can never take it back. And there are some things you put out there that is taken up like wolves devouring a big pile of raw meat. It's not pretty. Once you put something out there anyone who sees it or reads it can do whatever they want with it. I guess we'll see how it goes.

First blog entry

So, this is my first time doing anything like this. I write, but usually not where anyone who wants to can read it.

Anyways, I guess the purpose of this blog, or what I want the purpose to be is pretty simple.

My name is Amanda, I'm 20 years old, and I've had a mental illness for as long as I can remember. Now, I know that by putting that out there, I'm opening myself up to anyone and everyone's critisizim. But I am so tired of people who don't understand and who've never suffered this way talking about people with a mental illness like we're all either crazy, or making it up.

So that's the purpose. I've torn my life apart and put it back together, back and forth, over and over again since I was 12 years old. I spent years thinking it was just me, that I was the only one who had such a hard time with life, that everyone else was just stronger then me. But that wasn't true. It's NOT true. For the last three years my life has pretty much been at a standstill. Now, I'm trying to put it back together once again. Only this time is different. I have been to the lowest of the low, rock bottom, and I am determined not to go back there again. I'm tired of making excuses and lying to my friends about stupid things, like why I can't hang out because really, I just couldn't drag myself out of bed. Or I was having so many anxiety attacks the night before, sleep was the last thing on my mind. I've realized that the reasons I make excuses and lie about how I'm really doing is more for everyone else then it is for me. I don't want to cause any discomfort. I don't want to force anyone to think about something as taboo as mental illness, especially in the friend they think they know so well. The other reason, well, the other reason is because I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what people will think of me. I'm afraid they'll think I'm crazy, or lazy, or making it up. I'm afraid they won't want to have anything to do with me. I'm so afraid of people I love and care about leaving, that I leave them before I can be left. I push them away before they can hurt me. And I don't know how to stop. But I want to, and I'm going to. Because I've wasted enough of my life.

So. If you are a teenager or a young adult and you're dealing with mental illness, you're not the only one. You're not alone. And the point of all this, is for people to just try to understand that they don't even know what a mental illness is, and that making up depression or anxiety is like making up cancer.

I know people will judge me for this. "Ooooh so THATS the reason she missed most of high school, dropping in and out of life like a, oh, yeah, like a crazy person." I know. And I'm willing to accept that.

I'm standing up and saying that yes, I may have a mental illness-or 2, but I'm NOT crazy. And you know what? If you think I am, then that just goes to show how ignorant some people can be. So I'm going to try to spread understanding and acceptance, while at the same time trying to build my life back up, this time stable enough to stay standing for much longer then it ever has before.

I know I'm not the only one. I hope this can find others like me, so we can all be a little less alone.