Trying to Escape

So I just realised that I had this blog; I’d forgotten about it.

I think that I should note that I discovered late December that I most likely have BPD. Yay? It’s encouraging and discouraging at the same time.

Right now, I’m mostly writing to keep a medication log. I’ve quit my meds. I was on Effexor and Lamictal, but my mom wouldn’t pay my doctor’s bill, so I never even bothered to call back. If they didn’t call me, I just assumed I couldn’t go back due to the bill. It turns out, after I realise I barely have enough left to wean myself off and have already started the process, that my mom DID pay the bill eventually. I haven’t had a chance to call my doctor and get anything worked out yet though. I actually wanted to see how I could do without meds.

Well, here’s what’s happening…
I avoided most of the extreme symptoms of nausea, light-headed, dizzy, s;fjlakscjlke that I get if I forget my Effexor for a few days (man, that’s tough to get through). Then I realised.. oh… my insomnia is because Effexor is used to treat insomnia. I was dependent on it for sleep even though sleep isn’t the reason I was taking it. But my stress levels have gone through the roof.
I assumed it was because I wasn’t sleeping… but I don’t think that’s it.
While it’s the invisible drug in the background – no side effects, no withdrawal, and no noticable effect – the power of Lamictal can be seen when I stop taking it. I fall to pieces.

It’s the dependency that scares me… on things BEYOND emotions, such as sleep. that make me really afraid to continue these drugs. But lamictal does no damage. I can only see ONE effect when I quit: I behave in the same way I was trying to avoid. No throwing up. No seizures (which I was terrified might happen), nothing. It’s almost magical.

I got back on the Lamictal after much self-battling. I realised that things seemed the most normal when i was on it. I never noted any differences. Things were too ordinary. But they were ORDINARY. I quit, and they weren’t. So I got back on it.

These past few weeks have been fantastic. Something I couldn’t identify was making everything go wrong this past week. The insomnia, the stress, etc… but WHY? WHY was I falling to pieces? Yelling, hating, cutting, dying?

I think it might be the Lamictal. I think it’s what makes my life so ordinary that I forget everything. I forget I’m even taking drugs. I got off them because they “weren’t doing anything,” but it’s like makeup or a good light technician. If they’re doing their job, you’re not going to think they’re doing anything. You’re not going to notice they’re there. And I believe that this is exactly how it is for lamictal

Happiness. Oh, I love you so much.

Is it the rain? Are my meds working? Is it the natural cycle of my bipolar life regardless of the meds that I don’t think are working anyway? Is it the fact that I feel connected to people again, in whatever text-driven way it might be? Is it the fact that I have made a decision in my life? Feel firmer in who I am? Whatever it is, it’s the way I lived a few years back… happy without reason. That is the best way to live.

I have made two pretty major decisions in my life withing a few days. They’re not decisions anyone even needs to know about. One is completely unnoticable by people, the other is mostly unnoticable except in certain situations.

My first decision, made Friday, October 29, 2010, was to never drink a drop of alcohol again. It’s not that I have a problem with alcohol or anything. I’ve had a sip of a margarita, a shot of butter nipples, a small glass of Irish creme and have added a dash Irish creme to my coffee 3 times, which does the perfect job at sweetening it up while adding a teeny little fire to the back of the throat. It’s nice.
Soooo why no alcohol? Well, I had considered it a long time ago. I never knew there was a name for my previously chosen lifestyle: straight edge. I know now because of CJ Wilson. He’s part of why I decided this, but only the day before, I heard in psychology about the inheritability of ALCOHOLISM! My whole life, I’d been terrified of alcohol, so it took a lot of convincing to get me to be okay with it, but why should I let my guard down? I have such an addictive personality… I went out at 3am for a chocolate bar, which I said I would eat only a fourth of and ended up eating all of. Self control? Nada. I don’t need any crap screwing me up, thanks. My mind is already screwed up as it is, I don’t need any external influences to help it out. So welcome to the straight edge lifestyle, Lani. It makes me even more of an outsider than before, but I don’t really care. I think I’ve accepted being a freak. At least I can be a freak in good ways.

My second decision might sound gross to most people, but it’s something I’ve really been thinking about (off and on) for years. Quitting shampoo. Now before you freak out, consider the fact that our bodies adjust to maintain homeostatis or whatever. Now, our hair and scalp need the oils that are produced naturally, but when we wash them out every day, we produce them in excess, which is why hair gets oily after not shampooing it for a day or so. It’ll be tough, but after a while, things will balance out, and my hair will be nice. Don’t judge me.

Anyway, today I feel great for no particular reason. It’s pretty nice.

This is why I shouldn’t forget my meds…

Even the simple title of this post depresses me. The fact that medication is the only way to some sort of false little comfortable world in which I can just feel happy in my misery. Yes, I did forget my anti-depressants this morning. Oops.

Now to my point.
I hate being nobody.
I am sick. and. TIRED of it!

None of my words mean anything.

It’s useless to speak.
And when I don’t speak, I don’t get seen.
And when I don’t get seen, I don’t get noticed.

I don’t even have half of a personality. Nothing to engage people with except my fucking boobs.
Whoopee some guy just gave me food and/or talked to me cuz he thinks I’m hot or some shit like that. Yes, that should make me feel SO happy [/sarcasm]
Seriously though… after I got my hair cut and dyed and stuff, I got a lot more male attention. Suddenly I was like.. popular on facebook for a while. I don’t want attention like that. I just want attention as a person! I’m not attention seeking. I don’t try to get people to notice me, but yes, I do wish that I actually had enough of an impact on people to actually be remembered. I’m so insignificant to everyone around me. They hardly remember me. I shout a few times and they didn’t even hear me go “Me, me, hey! I’m here!”

Ugh, I can’t even organize my thoughts properly. How do I even begin this? Venting has a habit of coming out as a rush of jumbled ideas haphazardly thrown into word form.

Yeah, sure, I’m different. Maybe even too different. It’s like every time I say something about myself, someone’s going to tell me that I’m just attention seeking. God, no. I want more than anything to blend in, but I want to stand strong as myself, as an individual. Does that make sense? All the things about me that are different, that’s just me. But somehow I seem to be so different than them that rather than blending in with the crowd, I become a mere shadow. Maybe I am too ordinary to be noticed. I don’t have the personality that shines through and has enough impact to become a memory. I feel that I am only half a person, and what I feel to be unique or even ordinary about myself is outshined by everyone else’s ability to be both unique and ordinary at the same time.

Am I just not assertive enough? I just sit in the corner never wishing to intrude. Not wanting to go where I’m not welcome, yet never being welcomed in. I want to stand up and be somebody, but if I’m in a room by myself, I can be the most extraordinary, person, I will still be nobody. I feel that I am always alone.

Should I just shut up and take my drugs? Sure, that’ll be great. I can live with the knowledge that I am drugging myself to contentment in a world that doesn’t care either way.

I could have a place in this world. I can stand up and fight for something or someone, but I never am heard because I’m in a room all alone, and really, I don’t have anything to say anyway.

Why the hell am I typing all this random depressing shit that probably shouldn’t be posted because I already know it’s a result from accidentally forgetting my meds? Because I know no one reads this crap anyway. I don’t make enough of an impression on anyone for that.

Gender Quiz

You Scored as Neither You think neither like a man nor like a woman. What you are you may decide for yourself. Most people will consider you strange, alien, weird or funny. You are probably quite interesting. Neither 64% Either 54% Male 43% Female 39%

I am satisfied with my results. This is the second time I took the quiz, and I was a little more firm with my answers, so it lowered some of the original results, oops, but I didn’t copy the html code the first time.

Tuesdays and Thursdays from Hell

Okay, so maybe not, but I’m not terribly thrilled about them. I loved the idea of taking a psychology class (I love finding out how things work, especially the mind), but this class looks hard as hell with all the reading and projects we have to do. *heaves a sigh* It’s just… too much, it seems, and I’ve only been to one class.

Not only did I have to return my textbook because my teacher thinks that since he teaches at a proper university rather than just community college, he’s beyond the listed textbook (okay, no, I’m just annoyed at him), but the new textbook is $123 whereas the last one was in the $80s-90s about $90 with tax, I think, so I couldn’t even trade the book in. Add that on top of other books I need for projects, and I already hate the class.

Must I explain? I am not good at reading. Words don’t really click in my brain, that’s why I’m taking sign language. Especially if I am reading because someone told me to, I read very very very very very very very very very slowly. Yes, yes, I know ‘college is reading,’ but I’ve got not only psychology on Tuesday/Thursdays… I have… the dreaded subject… HISTORY! Now, I’m not used to actually trying too hard in that class. I actually love it.. the lectures, that is. I’ve always loved history lectures, but I never take notes, which is stupid, I just listen. Of course, I’m taking notes now, but the one thing I’ve never done is read the book. I suppose there’s no way around it now. There are so many times I’ve almost failed history, and I can’t do that in college, no siree. But I don’t like iiiit. Yes, I’m going to whine and complain about it because that’s all I know how to do.

I’ve been assigned 2 chapters and have yet to get past the first few pages. Needless to say, I’m horrified. Did I mention how much I’m supposed to have read for psychology (out of TWO different books), when I don’t even have the material to read? Yeah. I think I’m going to die of an anxiety attack now. Oh, where’s my Klonopin, you little bugger? *sighs again*

I’m properly frightened. These classes want to kill me. Psychology tricked meeee. I don’t know what I expected, honestly, but not loads of book projects and hours upon hours of reading. Okay, computer and online  friends, be prepared not to see me much anymore. I might have to restrict myself since I am rather addicted, especially to AVEN at the moment.

Alright… I’m off to read for the half hour before I need to go to class. I bid thee all farewell, for I may not be seen again.

I am Water

I am water.

I am the serene lakes and the raging ocean.

I am the clouds, soft and pure, never knowing when they are going to fall.

I am the rainbow peeking out in the distance when the sun’s just right.

I am the soft trickle and the dancing stream.

I am the storm killing sailors and sinking cities.

I am the screaming rain, the gentle mist.

I am the mystery in the depths of the Earth, the clarity of a brilliant pool.

I am the easily lost, the impossible to escape,

The evanescent breath, the endless shores.

I am the mortal eternity.

The Edge of Insanity

I have, obviously, just joined another blog site (okay, so it’s just this and livejournal, but still) that I will probably not use as much as the normal blogger would. Oh well, blogging can be fun, it’s the question of who would actually read it that we have to consider.

My mind, at the moment, is clear, yet undefined. I cannot state what I feel, yet the murky shadow of confusion has dissipated. I suppose it’s the effect of a mood stabilizer. I cannot say that I feel bad. I feel on the higher end of nothing, but it is not as empty as I thought it would be. It is a mellow feeling that I quite enjoy. It’s almost… happiness. Happiness in the way it probably should be felt.

So why am I bothered by this? Well, I can’t necessarily say that I am, but it is a bit unnerving. I suppose I’m just used to the calm before the storm, but it’s also hard for me to define myself (yet I feel more myself than ever?). I so often was the walking contradiction: wanting and not wanting, peaceful and raging, yet now I am the middle ground, free to be free, and I don’t know how to feel about it. So much of my artistic inspiration came from my moodswings, my depression, my highs. Now, though I feel wonderful, there is nothing to say, nothing to do, nothing to be.

When did I realize that I was different? Well, of course, I felt that pain leave me. The pain of always being on the edge of insanity. I felt open and free for the first time since I don’t even remember when, but it is different than the euphoria of the past, and I can assure you, that’s better than you would think. But of all things, I became upset when I began thinking of my future.

In the past, I was dead set on being an animator. I was going to do it. Go to the best school, it was simple. Then I was terrified. It was impossible. I must get another degree to go with it. Then I wanted to go to Ringling, I was certain, then I was horrified, dreading the future. Now I feel that I’m only following along some stupid path I carved for myself while I was afraid. I feel no confidence, yet I feel no fear. I feel that I should just stick with this plan. I’m… plan-based? Huh, weird. But I don’t know what my ultimate goal is, and yet I see it as clearly as ever, but what of the path? Should it not have changed? I am seeing the world possibly more realistically than ever. Which is the best decision? I don’t know.

What upsets me the most, and this is pretty much a contradiction, is that it doesn’t really worry me at all. It will be here when it’s here. Should I not be planning, should I not be nervous or confident? I just walk along blindly, as if with a flashlight, seeing only what it right ahead of me and for the future saying ‘what will come will come,’ and while that’s a nice philosophy, I’m not sure I believe it to be the best one.

I’m too laid back that I don’t even know if I should be trying harder for something that I can’t even see anymore. Maybe this is just me losing my extremes. I’m so used to being extreme, and now I feel lost.

Yet at the same time, I’ve never been more myself.

Though I see clearly, though my mind is unfogged, I am still confused.