What Keeps the Monsters Away

Depressions is well…depressing. It’s hard to claw your way out of the dark pit that forms beneath you. It’s like a sticky, black substance just covers your body and suffocates you. 

There is a flicker of light I can hold onto though. It’s not hope, but a way to feel to prick my emotional finger, and feel something besides apathy. 

The only way I can grab ahold of this ‘flicker’ is through my writing. I believe every person has some sort of passion. It varies in everyone’s lives, hell, some lose it completely. But at one point in time, each person was passionate.

Writing is the only way I can feel it.

The way I retain it is making myself write every week. I keep a mood journal. I try to write down how I feel, mentally, physically, and emotionally. I especially have to do this when I switch up medication. 

I am working on a novel. I’m 30,000 words in, and it’s a very special time when I work on it. It’s my creation, completely my own to mold into my vision. It’s a very unique feeling when you create a world with characters that you give a life to. 

The best thing I have done, recently, though is writing on a professional level. I am a huge geek. 

I LOVE video games.

When I say love, I mean I spent $100 on a original cardboard game box for a Super Nintendo game. 

That’s so damn dedication….at the least.

I started writing for a local geek website. And I am looking for more opportunities in this realm. I got my first article published this past week. I was so proud of myself. I actually created a decent piece of writing, and people seemed to enjoy it. The podcast that I reviewed even shared it via Twitter.

I was estatic. I know it’s small, but I felt a sense of pride for the first time in a long time.

If you are struggling, try to find that passion. I know it’s tough. It’s hard to get out of bed, it’s hard for me to hold a pen in my hand and make myself write something down on paper. But if you don’t try, you will never find that passion again. You can’t control your depression, but you can swim those dark waters.

UPDATE: I now have a Twitter: @earthhboundgirl

-E.
My article that I mentioned:  http://twincitiesgeek.com/2017/05/the-player-one-podcast-is-for-the-gamers/

Getting The HELL out of Dodge. 


I traded humid, unpredictable weather for cold winters this past September.

From Kentucky to Minnesota, a 16 hour drive with a U-Haul and animals. 

It fucking sucked.

The most exhausting day of my life. Being on the road from 4AM to 8PM. THEN taking 3 hours to unload the U-Haul. Had a crying session, then went to sleep around 1AM. 

Then tomorrow came. Just like it always does. The world didn’t end, and I felt…relieved. We had just made a long journey by ourselves, with our own money, at age 25. 

One of my goals in life was to move out of Kentucky. 

Let me just be real for a second:

I hate Kentucky. 

I can’t stand it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a beautiful state. But…that’s it. The culture is horrible, and there is hardly any opportunity. I’m not going to sugar coat it. Kentucky needs help, but in order for things to get better, we need a social upheaval.

That’s going to take some time and resources that the state doesn’t have. 

When I came to Minneapolis, I was expecting…more choices in restaurants and clothing stores. I wasn’t expecting a totally different culture. I should of known better considering my background is Sociology. But it still surprised me.

I entered a world that spoke tolerance. A city that was trying to accept people and help the community. 

It’s not perfect. At all. But it beats the hell out of Kentucky. 

So, when it comes to my depression, I felt so much better here. Not only was I away from ultra religious, uneducated people, but I could actually talk about my mental illness. 

I couldn’t do that in Kentucky without someone throwing a stigma on me. Do people still judge me? Of course. We are conditioned to do that. But I’m more comfortable in this setting than I ever was in Kentucky. 

I’m so much happier here than I ever was in Kentucky. It’s such a. Nice change in pace. It didn’t solve all my problems, but it helped me cope with my illness.

I never get tired of the city lights. I always look at them with awe. I never get tired of just hanging out in my apartment like I did in Kentucky. Because I know that I have no obligation to hide my true self or indulge people. 

My point, Kentucky isn’t for me. A drastic change helped me cope with my depression. I still struggle, but I’m better off than I was. 

There are many other reasons why I left.

*Cough cough religion cough cough*

But that tale is for another day.

-E. 

Perks of Being A Wallflower

As I’m sitting on my bright orange IKEA couch, the sun is peeking through the windows. I hate natural light, but it is warm and inviting. Instead of enjoying the great outdoors, I’m sitting with my headphones on listening to vaperwave music, writing this blog on my phone. 

I mention this glorious sunset because it parallels my life so we’ll.

I’m a wallflower.

I feel like I’m in and I feel like I’m out. I’m seeing inside and outside at the same time. I’m sitting a fence of being involved and just watching. 

I’m introverted as hell. But I like listening to people, seeing into a part of their lives. At a safe distance, at least. 

I went to an art museum this past weekend. I went for a particular exhibit. Guillermo Del Toro’s At Home With Monsters. Surrounded by eerie paintings and monster wax figures, I was immersed into Del Toro’s mind. I felt like I was the only person there, studying this art.

But I wasn’t. I was surrounded by people who I shared a social conscious with. They were fans of the same director, subject matter. 

I was part of this group, but yet I was so far.

I tried to not get too close to someone when I was looking at a painting or decor. I didn’t want to bother them or really talk to them. 

When it comes to relationships, that’s exactly how I am. I want to be surrounded by like-minded people, but at arm’s length. I want to be there for people; I’m fiercely loyal. However, I have no interest in sharing my private life.

Maybe this has to do with my depression or maybe it has to do with just how my personality is. 

There is a bittersweet feeling attached to my wallflower habits. 

I may not have alot of deep relationships, but I can come and go as I please. 

I don’t get overly attached. Part of me wants that, but part of me is just so focused on myself. On getting better, or working towards my goals. 

This is just another facet of my life I have become to accept. I will always be a wallflower. And I’m okay with that. I’m just here for the ride.

*Quick Update: I have finally started new medication that will hopefully help deal with this depression better. Send good vibes my way!

-E. 

Paranoid Android

 

Symptoms:

Sweating excessively

Stumbling over words

Skin becoming red/blotchy

Hands shaking

Heart Palpitations

Head Aches

Low energy

 

These are all symptoms of my anxiety, and this is just some of them.

 

Last Night….

I live in the middle apartment of a 6 apartment complex. I heard noise from all sides. So, there was very loud music above me. I was home alone. We have a quiet hours policy; 9 on the weekdays, 10 on the weekends.

It was past 9. This isn’t the first time this has happened with the above apartment. They woke me up once, granted, months ago with their loud TV. I took a broom and banged on the ceiling out of frustration of being woken up in the middle of the damn night (I get up at 4AM for work).

My anxiety kicked in. We put up with their loud music, TV, exercising equipment, etc. and I had it. I started to sweat, my heart started pounding, my head started to hurt. My body was shutting down. When this happens, it is so hard to function. I don’t know how I get through work, honestly. So, I sat there for a minute, just hoping they would stop.

It didn’t.

So, I called Dillon (my significant other). He is my lifeline. He is the only person I’m 100% real with. I don’t have to worry about embarrassing myself, and I’m not afraid to ask him anything. He tried to calm me down, “I’ll take care of it tomorrow,” (He works nights).

So, I think ‘Okay, we will get this figured out.’

But, part of me, was like ‘No, this is so disrespectful. Maybe they don’t know how loud they are, maybe they don’t care. Regardless, they need to know.’

So, I took the broom and banged on the ceiling. Twice.

Nothing.

I go towards my front door, and I can hear the music very clearly. It sounds like their door is open. I heard girls giggling. This goes on for several minutes, then the door closes.

I put my house shoes on and marched up the stairs.

Let me pause for a moment.

I have been told, and it’s true, people are intimidated by me.  Why? I present myself in a very mature way. People think I’m confident, people think I’m vain, people think I’m a bitch. Let’s just say it. People think I’m a bitch. Not just strangers, but past friends and family members think that of me.

I’m the complete opposite.

Holy shit.

I have no confidence. I don’t think I’m pretty, I really struggle with my self-esteem. As a result, I used to cut myself. I felt like I needed to punish myself for being ugly. But on top of that, I never dressed in a conventional manner. I was the alternative kid. I’m still alternative.

Give me an old pair of chucks, and a leather jacket ANYDAY over a colorful dress.

I really don’t like color. Most of my wardrobe is black. I love it.

 ANYWAY

This intimidation has really crippled me before. Especially, as a woman, men feel threatened by me. Not only because of my demeanor, but I don’t put up with shit.

Once I grab on to something, I’m not letting it go till I’m ready to.

 

So Back to Last night

I knocked on their door, with Dillon still on the phone, mind you.

A man opens the door.

He was young, probably around my age.
I simply said “Hi, could you please turn your music down? It’s really loud in my apartment.”

He looked taken back. His eyes were a little wide.

“Oh, sure.”

I thanked him and went back into my apartment.

Dillon was like ‘Did you just go up there..?’

 

‘Yep.’

 

Now, you would think I would feel better because I confronted my problem. I overcame my anxiety, even with my heart pounding, and faced it.

 

Nope.

 

I was worse after the fact. I had the symptoms listed at the top. Times ten. I was trying to take deep breaths, I tried listening to soft music, etc.

 

Nothing worked.

 

I took my anxiety medicine. It took over an hour to kick in. That’s the kicker with my medicine, it will hit me between 5-60 minutes. And it hits me hard. I have to sleep after I take it.

 

But the one symptom I didn’t mention:

 

Paranoia.

 

This is the worst symptom because it triggers the other symptoms. I am so worried about every word that comes out of my mouth. I’m worried about how I walk, how I pass someone (Do I look at them or no?), greeting someone, just holding a conversation. I am so paranoid I’m going to get embarrassed.

Even if I don’t do anything weird, I still think about it.

 

So now, I’m worried about how our neighbors are going to react to us. To sum up my thoughts: ‘Do they think I’m a bitch?’

I’m so afraid this is going to have consequences. I’m thinking of the extreme: Are we going to get evicted? Are they going to play their music louder now?

I’m getting anxious just thinking about it.

 

This is just a facet of the problems I have because of my mental illnesses.

 

I have to keep pushing through though. If I don’t build myself up, I’m going to get to a point where I will never leave my apartment or just be able to drive to the grocery store.

 

I know for a fact my anxiety has gotten worse in the past couple of months. But I gotta keep fighting.

 

Oh, and yes, they turned down their music immediately.

 

-E.