coming out of the fort.

It is incredibly rare that I stumble across a pin on the pinterest that fills me with so much emotion. I think I clapped my hands together and nearly started crying. THE NEST.

Most of October, I lived in a nest. Except, I call it a blanket fort. My days were filled with anxiety, with reason and without, and the only thought that gave me comfort was knowing that I would soon be able to flee to my home, my comfy couch, and my blanket. And I knew that I could cover my entire body and free my mind of any burdening thoughts and just be in that blanket fort. Because I could not do much else without crying or finding a reason to yell about something or just completely shutting down.

And that Justin of mine? He let me be in that blanket fort. For a few weeks. And when I finally just became a complete ridiculous and unreasonable mess, he life-coached the shit out of me and gave me incredibly rousing come-to-jesus talks that left me without reason for needing my fort. And while I hated mostly every second of the life-coaching because, hello blanket fort is so much easier than facing any bit of reality, I loved every minute that he took to do so. Because he cared enough to pull me out of the fort and kick my ass into gear.

I don't think I would've made it out of there without him.

mental health awareness month, #3

Dear Every Day In May - I did today already. Here. That isn't cheating, it is multipurposing, which I also didn't learn in school. Or maybe I did.

Either way, I don't want us all to forget about Mental Health Awareness Month, so let's talk about how I am crazy a little bit more. This will probably be the last in this series, only because I really like all of the EDIM prompts for next week. It is my sincere hope that these posts helped someone, if only me for the relief I felt writing them.

So you've realized you have a mental health problem...what next?

1. Visit a doctor. Even your primary care physician. They will send you to a psychiatrist if necessary. I started with primary care and I wish that 10 years ago they sent me directly to psych. I have to talk to a psychiatrist now, in order to stay on my prescriptions. Side note: Be honest with your doctors. If your pills aren't working, don't be afraid to tell them. If your pills are causing near-menopausal night sweats, tell them.
2. Talk to someone. I tried therapy and failed miserably. Why? I hate talking about myself, especially to a stranger who seemed less than interested. I took personal offense to her demeanor. Which is not how any of that is supposed to work. Now, Justin makes me talk about it. About what is bothering me or why I get stressed or anxious. He has also gotten really good at identifying triggers for me. So, although I hate every bit of it, it is the healthy thing to do.
3. TAKE YOUR PILLS. Seriously. And if you decide you don't want to take them anymore, consult your doctor.
4. Identify your triggers. I feed off others' negativity like a fat kid feeds on cake. Sometimes reading about mental illness make the anxiety start welling up. And while I like being busy, I can easily cross the line between happily busy and anxiously frenzied. These are things I'm still learning.
5. Find your happy place. Or things that make you calm. Music, baths, and wine are all obviously very comforting things. Focus on your breathing. Exercise. Turn your phone off. On really bad days I like to lay in bed under the covers in the dark. With a fan on. 
6. Be inspired. I will Eat, Pray, Love for the rest of my life and I am not even kidding. That book brought me so much inspiration and peace. It really did. I also subscribe to The Daily Love and follow Tiny Buddha on Facebook. This all sounds so cheesey and kumbaya-ish but it is what helps me stay centered. Find your center, whatever it may be.

These things aren't always easy to do, but you have to. Once you make the decision to take care of yourself, you have to do it right. Mental Health care isn't something you can half ass. You can't just take your pills every now and then when you feel like it. You can't purposely engage in behaviors that you know are bad for you. And you have every right to disengage from things that are bad for you as well. I will always be working on these things. It's a part of me that requires extra care and always will.

Mental Health Awareness Month, #2

Thank you for all of your support last week. The easiest way to support this cause is to spread the word. So like, really easy.

My mental health journey began at age 20. I was a full time biology student (see: hours upon hours of labs plus corresponding lectures) and I was working two part-time jobs. I was tired. I was stressed. I was emotional. All of the things you would expect.

There were also days that were frozen. I couldn't move out of my bed. I would wake up and know that I had to go somewhere or do something, and I just couldn't. You just can't. Insert missed classes and the beginning of numerous sick calls to work.

The bed was one place. My other place? My car. I would drive home from school and not leave my car. I would sit in my driveway and call my BFF and she'd be all, oh are you in the car again? Yup. And then she would talk to me until I was able to leave my car. Because she was my BFF and she did stuff like that. There were the typical signs — I stopped going out with friends, my appetite disappeared — but the one thing that has always stuck with me was that whole car situation. I mean, what in the ever-living-fuck. Couldn't I have gotten stuck somewhere exciting like in a park, or poolside? No, I had to spend many anxiety ridden hours in a goddamned Pontiac Sunfire.

The moment that made me go full Bynes had to do with a boy. How disgustingly cliché is that? And then I nearly stopped eating all together and decided that I should go get some medication. Even though I really liked wearing my little sisters' clothing.

I was the first of my family members to take anti-depressants. And they are incredibly lucky I love them still because the level of support I received was somewhere between 1 and 0. Why are YOU stressed? You don't need THOSE pills. You are fine. Not so much, family. Not so much at all.

Now? Now they understand. And now we probably qualify for some sort of discount because we are single-handedly keeping the anti-depressant companies in business.

So my story doesn't begin with a bang. It was a mild meltdown process and I am forever grateful that I took steps to get help before it had a chance to get worse.

Start the conversation.

We interrupt this regularly scheduled BLOG EVERY DAY IN MAY because I was recently made aware that May is Mental Health Awareness Month. The fact that I was not aware, and that you probably weren't either, that is the problem.

We don't talk about it. We don't talk about it because we don't want to be judged, and because we fear you won't understand. We don't talk about it because you "don't need those pills" or because you too are having "anxiety." We don't talk about it because it triggers feelings — feelings that we work hard to escape.

According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness, 1 in four adults experience mental illness in a given year. That means someone you know, whether you recognize it or not, has or is currently experiencing mental illness.

Some of my experience with depression and anxiety has been chronicled here. Mild compared to other stories I've read and people I know, it is still a part of me. And I owe an abundance of gratitude to those that showed me that #1 We can talk about these things and #2 We can laugh about it afterwards.

Throughout this month, I plan to share my stories. The posts below are ones I've collected over the years that have resonated with me deeply. They are my reminders that I am never alone.

Adventures in Depression

Tightrope Walker

On Depression & Getting Help

Or a Declaration

I'm Taking a Sad Day

The Hard Things

80 new beds, 80 more lives

So, let's talk about it. Share your experiences, or talk to a friend in need. It's time.

oops...I did it again.

You know how some people have THE WORST DAY EVER because their nail breaks and o em gee I spilled coffee and poor me I need a mental health day! LOL!

You've heard that before, right?

To that I say, fuck your mental health day.

Monday...Monday I needed a real mental health day. It took everything...every ounce of my being to stay seated in my office and not bolt out to my car and speed home and build a fort under the covers and remain there until Justin forced me to come out and eat dinner. And no, I am not being an overdramatic nail-breaking, coffee-spilling, fml type person.

It's just that. Well. I forgot to take my pills. Again.

I know. We've been here before. But <insert excuse related to drinking too much here> and <insert excuse about falling asleep on the couch here>. I fucked up, and I fucked myself up. My emotional reactions to normal life annoyances have been THROUGH THE ROOF. Meaning I cried my way out of a family party Saturday night because a girl that was missing a tooth cut in front of me at the bar and I was like she's not even cute because she doesn't have all her teeth and what is the point of those braces? And my family and friends were like, whoa. Nice about it. But like, whoa.

And you just can't. You can't even explain it because you are not yourself and you won't be for a few days. So when you return to work on Monday and shit is flying all over the place because of typical incompetencies? Holy sweet jesus, brace yourself and don't you dare make direct eye contact with me because I will cry all over you.

So I don't feel bad that you broke a nail. Or that you coughed. Or that your husband didn't get you the right type of soda or whatever the fuck is it that people complain about every five fucking minutes. I don't feel bad for you, because you can fix it and change it immediately. You can change your situation. 

I just have to sit and wait until the medication starts filling up the holes in my system again and I become stable. So until then, I will sit and look at pretty pictures and silly animal pictures (thanks, Shannon!) and remember that it will get better. Soon.

Silver linings weekend.

Friday night I finally, FINALLY saw Silver Linings Playbook. And here I sit on Sunday night still thinking about it and tearing up looking through gifs and photos. My heart still so full and so broken from this film. Just believe me when I tell you that it is incredible. Bradley Cooper. Jennifer Lawrence. Robert DeNiro. Jacki Weaver. All so absolutely incredible. So wonderful that I would even allow Bradley Cooper to win the Oscar over Daniel Day Lewis. THAT GOOD.

Without getting in to it too much or giving away fine details, this movie tackles mental health issues in a way that a movie never has before. Nothing too serious, too unrelatable. Actual issues that people struggle with daily, that I have struggled with and that someone you know has struggled with. That is what makes this film so genuine and so heartbreaking. That we all have been there and we all will go back there, unwillingly and unknowingly. It is not a Rom-Com; it is a movie that will shake you to the core and fill your heart with life.

But enough of THAT talking about feelings and the like. I mean, that's not what you come here for. You come here to read about shitshows. So here is a shitshow story.

My best friend came to see our apartment for the first time since I moved to the great north (20ish minutes away). You see, I used to live two blocks from her. We used to walk over to each other's bachelorette pad or meet up in the middle for Thai or Mexican, or a drink. So this was our first official bestie night in Mira Mesa. 

Mira Mesa is a far cry from the hip neighborhood which she still inhabits. It is, dare I say, suburban. So we chose the fine establishment of El Torito for dinner, which has all night happy hour. LITTLE DID WE KNOW, Friday nights at the El Torito in Mira Mesa are CLUB NIGHTS YOU GUYS! Upon entering the bar area, we got carded by a BOUNCER. And then we were nearly defeaned by a variety of Pitbull jams and various other Top 40 hits from 2011. We genuinely shouted across the booth at each other to try to have normal conversation.

My absolute favorite part of the entire ordeal were the MOMS out for a crazy ass Friday night in good 'ol Mira Mesa. One lady, with a killer hair piece, even got grinded on by an ethnic man in a denim-on-denim ensemble. Dare I say they got jiggy with it? They sure did.

Denim-on-denim aside, it was an entertaining and interesting start to our Friday night which was finished with the viewing of an INCREDIBLE MOVIE GO SEE IT NOW. Have I made my point yet?

In which I make a terrible mistake.

For the past two days I have been dizzy, nauseous, tired, and weepy. And shut your dirty mouth right now there is not anything spawning inside of me. I'm trying to be serious here! I slept A LOT Sunday and then watched the saddest and best documentaries I've ever seen, Dear Zachary. Now let me tell you, it was emotional. But I was CRY-ING. Like, let me pause this part so I can sob for four minutes type of crying.  I chalked it up to being overtired and the sheer intensity of the story that was being told. Then I went up to see the man after he had been in Vegas for two days and I immediately melted into tears when I walked through the door. Because that damn documentary was SO SAD, right?

I left work after two hours on Monday because I was shaky, tired, and seriously weepy. After sleeping for about four hours, I laid in bed thinking what the fuck is going on. And then, DING DING DING. I tried to remember the last time I took my Effexor and could not remember. Mystery, solved. And dear god I am kicking myself in the ass right now because I feel absolutely terrible and it is entirely my fault. It was a busy weekend and I simply forgot.

I've tried to quit taking antidepressants several times in my life and have failed miserably each time because well, you just aren't supposed to do that. But my biggest fear is that even if I want to slowly taper off, all of the above will be every day of my life. And isn't that just awful? I am happier than I can ever remember but I am completely dependent on a pill for my stability. I know, I know. You quit them. Your friend did it. Your mom's cousin's best friend did it. I get it. I just can't.

At least not right now. I've taken some major strides to help with the anxiety side of the issue but even sometimes that comes around and bites me in the ass. Which leads to a similar spiral. I was doing so well, what happened?

Nothing happened. This is not conditional, it is who I am. I will continue to change as much as I can in my life to ease the effects. And I will hopefully never again forget to take my pills this many days in a row.

Photo 411 linkup!

The lovely Erin of Shades of Gray and a Pinch of Pink is hosting a really fun photo linkup and I love me some photos. I am taking this opportunity to make a fool of myself because some of the ones I found are hilarious. Let's get to the shitshow!

#1 My Little Tyke Self

If you've ever wondered if the "bitchface" was a lifelong thing, here is your proof. And no, I sure didn't have enough hair for a ponytail until I was 4-years old. Thanks a lot, genetics.

#2 My High School Self

Post braces shot. Can you tell I was excited? And who in the hell ever let me cut or dye my hair?!? It hasn't looked like this in years!

#3 My College Self

This is the part of the photo tour in which I logged into my photobucket account that I haven't used since MySpace days and then I peed my pants. Because I was such a piece of work, I'm giving you two photos as my punishment for acting like such an asshole.

You guys, I legitimately wore those sunglasses out in public. Not to mention, at night. And then on the right we have the Emo Tiffany Phase which was awesome. This was not only when I discovered emo music, but also antidepressants. Thanks for the memories, 2005.

#4 My Right Now Self

Drunk, silly, and happy is how you will find me most of the time now (okay maybe not drunk most of the time, that actually sounded pretty awful). I've been having my moments of anxiety and stress, but overall you will find me giggling and being a total dumbass in a good way. Happy Tiffany is an even weirder Tiffany and you know what, I like it! I also really like my eyeshadow in this picture.

#5 My Furry Friend

Oddly enough I know someone who is actually a furry and I thought about posting his picture but I didn't want to give you all nightmares. Luckily, Erin clarified to use a PET so be sure to thank her for that. This bitch needs no introduction. Here she is blocking my access to food. She is slowly killing me.

#6 My Manly Friend

I didn't ask for his approval for this photo but I don't care because I love it. SO THERE. This be the man that makes me smile. So much. I cancelled my cable subscription to save some money so I was missing out on a lot of the Olympics which I obsess over. And you know what this guy did? He bought me an antenna so I could get NBC to watch the Olympics. Now if he could only assassinate the commentators...

#7 Where I Once Lived

Chino, California y'all. Okay, this is actually Chino Hills which is considerably nicer than regular Chino where I grew up and where my parents still live and one time their neighbors had a chicken coop in the backyard. In the suburbs. On a non-smoggy day we do have a lovely view of the San Bernadino Mountains, which Chino and the rest of the Inland Empire sit below. It's not an awful place like The OC made it out to be.

Image via chinohillsestates.com

#8 Where I Live Now

University Heights neighborhood of San Diego, California. How cute is that sign? On both sides there is an ostrich, which is apparently our city mascot which is wonderful because one time I dressed up as an ostrich. I LOVE this little neighborhood. I am a block away from the main strip which is home to a liquor store with one of the best beer selections in San Diego, an awesome bar with one of the best beer selections in San Diego, a fancy little cocktail bar, and my favorite dive bar in the entire world.

#9 What I Love

I love this picture and moments like this. It explains everything that is wrong but yet so right with my family and friends.

#10 What I Miss

These little monsters (nephew & niece) and my godchild. Life has been incredibly busy and isn't letting up any time soon. I miss having so much extra time to spend with the kiddos. But that makes the times I do get to see them even more special.

Music: Daughter

I prefer my music to have feelings, so that when I need something to validate my crazy feelings I know it is there. Sometimes these songs makes me want to throw my ipod out of my car window (if only it rolled down...). Other times they makes me smile because I feel so alive with emotion. Once, I made my BFF a mixtape that she decided to name, "Suicidal Lesbian." I listened back on the playlist and thought, holy shit she was SO right. This can't be healthy.

This song is no exception and was a track that I clinged to with all of my might earlier this year. I know many of you have felt the same sentiment as this song is singing out and jesus if it isn't some of the worst emotional pain you will ever go through. 

Daughter is a folk duo from London and I found this track on itunes for free last year (I've found some of my favorite songs that way!). There isn't too much information on the interwebs about them but from the raw lyrics to her delicate and haunting voice, Daughter totally nails it. I can't even write more about it without getting all weird and emotional. That right there is powerful music that you should listen to when your feelings have no words.

All melodramatics aside, what are YOU listening too? What should I be listening to? Something a little more cheery, perhaps? Excuse me while I wipe off my excessive black eyeliner, blow out these candles, and pump up some happy tunes.

I am...

Not an official link-up, but I got the inspiration from the delightful Danielle of Sometimes Sweet. 

Reading: Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter by Seth Grahame-Smith, which was a birthday gift from my boss. She either knows I enjoy vampire stories, or agrees with the rest of my friends that I sometimes resemble Abraham Lincoln (Only with a beard on, they say! One time, I tried on a beard…). This book started off incredibly strong, until about halfway through when my attention started to dwindle. I’ve been “finishing” this book for two weeks now. I’d still love to get through it before I see the movie.

image via ew.com
"I want a baby dragon!"...
"You have one... (points to jmeoww)." 

Watching: Game of Thrones, Season 2. We just finished watching Season 1 earlier this week and I immediately wanted to jump in to Season 2. I keep asking myself why I didn’t start watching it from the beginning. Just kidding, I know why. My original answer was always, “I don’t like period pieces!” To which my friends would reply, “Um, what does that even mean?” It means it looks historical and old-timey to which I say YAWN. Then I saw a picture of Daenerys with BABY DRAGONS and I was sold. I realize the show doesn’t revolve around baby dragons (dragonlettes?), but they were the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I can’t stop talking about how great this show is.

Working on: Being comfortable knowing that I’m happy. What? Right, I know. I’m not sure if this is yet another one of the pitfalls of depression or conditioning as a result of many years of discontent, but everything right now is so foreign to me. I should be happy; I’m finally with the man that I love and having the time of my life. A couple of weekends ago I was driving home from my parents’ house after a really fun weekend, the finale of which was spent splashing around the pool with my 4-year old nephew, and I caught myself reflecting on how enjoyable that was. I couldn’t remember the last time I even swam in my parents’ pool, let alone jump off the diving board and get my hair wet. Genuine, unadulterated fun made me stop and think. Life is wonderful right now and I AM happy, but I can’t help but feel uncomfortable and awkward about it. But, I’m trying. It's a wonderful thing to get used to. And no, this is not a humblebrag.

Anticipating: A phone call from Human Resources. Good or bad. At this point, I don’t even care!

Laughing about: The time a coworker colored his nose orange to make me think he had been eating too many carrots. This was as a result of learning how flamingos obtain their coloration, to which I compared to humans eating too many carrots. Maybe you had to be there. Probably.