PBP: Becoming Bilingual, etc.

I haven’t posted in a while. I haven’t forgotten anyone who bothers to read this. It’s just, I have nothing to talk about other than making Personal Blog Posts (PBPs), and I have been feeling my PBPs were boring. This one probably is too. They’re really for me more than anything. It’s cool if people like it, but I get it.

I’m having a Bipolar hypomanic state. Unfortunately, I’m also dealing with lithium toxicity. So it’s likely I will go off the lithium. Not bad, because I miss taking NSAIDs. Bad, because it typically controls my manias and hypomanias. We’ll just have to see what happens. I’m keeping safe right now.


I’m going to start a thing…current music for personal blog posts. Right now I’m listening to AURORA a lot later. I discovered her a few months ago, and I guess I just wasn’t ready for her music then. She’s fantastic though.


I recently acquired a Pusheen beanie, and I’m living in it. So much glitter and cats ❤


I’ve made paper flower that will be turned into bookmarks thanks to a glue gun and colorful paperclips. I’ll be making more, all going to friends and pen pals. I find the fabric flowers from Michael’s craft store, random buttons bought from Etsy (I needed tons of them), and I used Mod Podge to affix the button to the flower. So far that’s where I am. I think I will make more flowers tomorrow, then start glue gunning the paperclips on them.


Shopping tip: Check out discount stores like TJ Maxx, Ross, or Burlington (in the United States). I got the above for a steal at TJ Maxx. One’s a Kipling cross body bag, and the other is the Kipling 100 pencil case (it doesn’t hold 100 pens, but it holds A LOT). Also I’ve found lately that I dislike long purse straps, so I remove them and carry with the handles. I can fit a lot in the purse. It’s almost like having Mary Poppins’ carpet or Hermione Granger’s magical extension charm ^_^


So I’m picking up where I left off learning Japanese and Hiragana. I really love Living Language, and I’m using the Manga Way to supplement. It’s actually really good! I’m also using the app that comes with the books and disks amongst other apps like Imiwa & Hangul (I would post links, but I’m on satellite internet, and well…we’re running out of our data >_<)



I added a super cute cat charm to my traveler’s notebook. Thanks to September’s cat themed Doki Doki box!


My Night Vale books came today. It’s really cool of them to put the script in print. I also received my TAPS shirt from when I was on the Beyond Reality Radio show. I honestly didn’t expect a shirt though I gave them my address. It was an awesome surprise, because I’m a secret paranormal geek. Seriously, I watch ALL of the shows. I’m going through withdrawals not having Destination America right now. That channel legit ghost central, but our Direct TV does carry it on our current plan. Much bummer ;~; Next, Two Old Goats lotion. I’ve used this before, and it’s amazing. People in Fibromyalgia communities rave over it. And they’re right. I got two bottles with a pump through Amazon for not a bad price. Once again, I can’t link >_< sorry guys! But look it up. It helps with pain, and it gentle. Last but not least, got a six disk set of the Japanese version of the One Missed Call trilogy. And all for under $15 which is awesome. Out of all the Asian horror films I’ve ever seen, I have not seen One Missed Call! Not even the Americanized remake. So this will be fun ^_^


I’m loving the company of my therapist. I just started seeing her, only two sessions so far. She gave me this stone to help combat feelings of anxiety and self harm. Focusing on holding the stone, the details of it, etc. It helps.


Okay, so I lined up all of my essential oil blends. I found a pattern: they all have peppermint oil in them. Even if it’s not on the front of the bottle, it’s in the ingredients lists. As much as I like peppermint, I’m sick and tired of peppermint overpowering the other scents. Started using my single notes, mainly sweet orange. But…


…my therapist recommended this oil. We used it in session, and it helped my racing, hypomanic brain. I was so impressed I had to buy a bottle. It was pricey, but I consider it more like medication really.

Anyway, I’m going to stop here. Hope you all are well




Personal Blogging: More Good Things

Personal Blogging: More Good Things

Today I saw my new therapist, and I think I like her. I think she has potential. She reminds me of my therapist who I really liked who moved to Texas. I’m hopeful. Maybe I’ll finally get the help I need.


I discovered this traveler’s notebook through a group in which I’m a member on Facebook. I love the art journal look to it. Plus one of my favorite quotes. If you’d love to see the artist creating these journals, here’s the Etsy: SincerelyInked.



I finally found my art supplies (most of them) in the boxes we had packed. Still trying to find my watercolor notebook. I’ll be very sad if I can’t find it. Anyway, I purchased these brushes above to use with my watercolors, also above, that I snatched from a thrift store (yes, I got unbelievably lucky). Almost $13 for a set of three on Amazon. Here’s the link to the brushes.


I’m having fun with my camera. So many photos. Here’s a piano, inside out. I’m going to hike soon, so hopefully I’ll have some great photos to show.

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I got a new library card today, and I’m way psyched. I will officially have access to several sites where I can borrow e-books on my kindle.

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Current reads via my Goodreads, guys! Want to be friends? Let’s be friends.


PTSD – Elementary School

PTSD – Elementary School

None of this should be triggering. I was told by my doc to write down the things I remember most abuse-wise as I grew up. I’m starting from Elementary school, because that’s the earliest I can remember the negative things. Maybe some of this is humorous? Maybe it’s all sad. I don’t know. It’s the beginnings of digging into my PTSD, first seeing how I emotionally developed as a child. Middle school will come next week or the week after. I’m busy dealing with these occurrences written below this week and maybe next week.

How do you convince yourself you didn’t deserve any of it?

Elementary School

I was sure I was different in Kindergarten.

I couldn’t read as well as the other students, and I was put in a tutoring group. Soon I read better than the other students (at a 2nd grade level), and I spent most of my time in the library, because I had no friends. I couldn’t tell you why I had no friends.

At some point in elementary school, I was forced to be a snowflake in a play. I was overweight and had to wear a leotard. I made my mom tear up all the photos of me after the play was over, because I was “fat”. It was honestly so terrible, I blocked this experience out for decades. It was the first time I vocally hated myself for the way I looked.

One time a boy beat me with an umbrella on the bus, because I had to sit next to him. There was no other room elsewhere. The bus driver did nothing, even though I was screaming. I started hitting him as hard as I could until he shut up and left me alone. Nowadays, I see him on Facebook often through mutual friends. I know if I were to say anything about the incident, he’d probably laugh. The problem is…I’m not laughing.

In 1st grade, everyone stole my crayons. Mom ended up buying the cheap crayons, because people wouldn’t steal them.

In 1st grade, I used to read to the kindergartners. None of them listened. Eventually I told my 1st grade teacher I didn’t want to do it anymore. I remember feeling truly embarrassed.

I don’t remember 2nd grade except I got a bunch of Valentine’s from people I didn’t know, and looking back, they probably didn’t know me either. Oh, and a girl made fun of me for being fat by inappropriately touching me. She tried to friend me on Facebook many years ago, and I numbly denied her request.

My 3rd grade teacher taught me that not only could I not trust my peers, I couldn’t trust any adults either.

My 3rd grade teacher put me at a desk in the janitor’s closet, because I didn’t have my homework and didn’t understand multiplication. To this day, when asked to multiply something on the spot, I can’t, and I panic and feel stupid.

Unrelated to me, but to show the mentality with which we dealt, my 3rd grade teacher purposefully mispronounced the kid’s names who were POC up until we were ready for 4th grade. I didn’t understand racism, but through her, I do.

In 4th grade, I sat at a desk facing the wall, isolating myself from all of my other classmates. My teacher seemed nice, tried to get me to socialize but soon gave up. I had one good friend, but she was in another grade. I had no one to relate to there.

I got my first cassette player in 4th grade and started listening to music whenever the teacher gave us free time. My oldest brother made me mix tapes of the music he liked. It was angry. Sometimes it made me feel my anger too. It was liberating.

I got to go to the library by myself a lot in 4th grade. The librarian gave me all of the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark books, because they were being banned from school libraries. I still have them. It was the first time an adult other than my mom or dad was actually truly kind to me.

Today Is Day One

Today Is Day One

The past several months, I have been feeling ill. All I could really say to my parents was, “I don’t feel good,” when they would ask me what was wrong. Sometimes I’d even offer the statement myself as I sat at the dining room table with them, head in hands,

My Symptoms:
Extreme nausea
Anxiety attacks (over what I perceived to be nothing)

I thought that the depression had more to do with the situation I’m in. My family is in the process of moving from my childhood home, and I’m my mom’s shoulder to lean on. I had been okay my last psychiatric appointment, but I noticed a slow decline beginning two weeks afterwards. Eventually, a few Saturday’s later, I would be talking to my psychiatrist who has since adjusted my medications. He weighed in, saying that my situation could be caused by a mixed state brought on by stress from the move and not getting enough sleep.

Simultaneously, the nausea I had been experiencing was being treated by my general practitioner with Protonix and Zofran dissolvables. I was to take the Protonix until I felt better for at least a week, then halt administration. I was given Zofran for when I felt like vomiting which was often. The Protonix helped, so I thought maybe something had somehow messed up my digestive system and left it at that.

As the Protonix worked, I began noticing an influx of anxiety attacks that were mild but apparent. I also noticed I wasn’t sleeping as well at night again and felt constantly exhausted. I tossed it up to being side effects of the medication or possibly a worsening of the mixed state my doctor diagnosed. I also noticed my depression had worsened, but shit, who wouldn’t feel like crap with all that happening?

Fast forward to yesterday, day two off of Protonix. I quit taking it, because stomach-wise, I had felt well for over a week, plus those “side effects”, or so I thought were side effects, were really starting to bug me. Unfortunately, I began experiencing the nausea again. I thought, “Not again. The side effects haven’t even had a chance to wear off.” I was extremely upset, feeling sick and stuck.

Yesterday evening, my mom and I were talking, and things got quiet, and I said, “Mom, I really don’t feel well, but I don’t know what’s wrong.” She got kind of frustrated with me, because apparently I have been saying, “I don’t feel good,” way too much. At that point, I lost it. I cried, I yelled, and I cursed, and everything just poured out of me like emotional puke.

It wasn’t until I was done that I could not remember the last time I took care of myself, really.

Yeah, I was bathing, eating okay. I was struggling to do some daily tasks, which was mostly due to the exhaustion and depression. But when was the last time I allowed myself to be anything other than fine, well, or okay? When was the last time I took time for myself to be alone and just recover?

I have so many friends who are struggling, and I am trying to be there, but having not taken care of myself, I am not there for more than an, “I’m sorry,” because I had no energy to think of anything else to say. The fact I can’t say more than, “I’m sorry,” makes me feel like shit. Just trying to be there for my friends and family is only hurting me in the damaged state I’m in. It is not their fault. It’s mine for not saying I need time to myself to recuperate nor just reaching out and taking the time out when I can. To me, every message has to be answered, every need has to be tended, and I just can’t put my phone on silent or lock myself away for a bit. I just feel that I can’t afford to do it. I have to always be available and ready.

I took a step back mentally and looked at all the stress I had been under for the past three months alone and thought, “Damn.”

After discussing everything with my mom, she told me to just take a huge break and call my psychiatrist. I spoke to him right before I began writing this. Since I still want access to my phone, I have turned it on “Do Not Disturb”, so when I get a text or phone call, my heart doesn’t jump, and I don’t rush to make sure everything’s okay. I don’t hear it, and that’s good, because I mentally and physically can’t be “there” right now. My health cannot afford it in so many ways, having made myself this sick. I have to get used to not being there. I have to realize that it’s okay, that my true friends would understand and still love me even though I don’t answer them as often.

Today is day one. My phone has been on “Do Not Disturb” for over 24 hours. I know I have missed messages, but right now, I’m just too weak to handle anything. I haven’t bothered to check my email addresses. The world hasn’t ended. However, I am feeling less sick to my stomach (I’m not going back on the Protonix, and I’ve not needed Zofran today). I don’t feel as exhausted or anxious. I’m feeling a bit depressed, but that is because I’m trying to get over the fact that I am human.

I guess I’m writing this, because I want people to know that you can stop caring for yourself and not even realize it and that there are physical and mental symptoms that can accompany it. If I hadn’t exploded in front of my mom, I wouldn’t have realized the damage I was doing to myself and the fact I was basically emptied out with nothing real to give anyone. Don’t ever let yourself fall that far.

Eat, drink plenty of water, and make sure you sleep well. These are basics. Make sure to spend time alone? Make sure to give yourself free-time to be spent at your leisure? Turn off your phone? Nowadays, with technology as prevalent as it is, it’s hard to put it all down and just stop. But I know now that I have to, because if not, it will eat at me until nothing’s left.