Tag Archives: stress


Having blackouts again.

Things are also quite fractured. No sense of teamwork. I’m just trying to keep somewhat focused so regular medication and hydration can happen at least.

Army visited this weekend and it’s almost entirely a blur or blank. I don’t think he’s the stress causing the blackouts and switching, but it seems to be worse around him.

At a loss for what to do. Communication is also extremely difficult. Haven’t been able to easily discuss what’s going on with any other parts.

I don’t want to talk to a professional about this. Last time the blackouts were this bad, anti-psychotic medication was prescribed (not always taken) and the possibility of hospitalization was urged. We don’t want those at all. Even though the ED becomes very bad and our blood pressure is shooting through the roof.

I’m worried it’s the nitro pills we have to take for the high BP. They’re new. Combined with the stress of this past week.

I don’t know.

I just want to try and keep things semi-coherent. But it’s hard.

I really hate losing time and being so split. It’s drastically better when we work as a team.

I’m at a loss right now. Trying not to get scared. Then I blackout even more.



I knew work was heading this way.  I knew a possible breakdown was just on the horizon.  Currently I’m at my desk in the office with a hot chocolate (plus a shot of cappuccino) and an ice pack on the back of my neck.

Seems dumb, I know.  Only thing I can think of to try and ground me and keep me from having a breakdown.  Sensation helps keep my mind from going mental, so I thought the combination of hot and cold might keep me together for at least the next two hours (the extra caffeine can’t hurt).

I’m being hit in two different ways.

First of all; files being thrown at me and threats being dangled about audits and probationary period (not me, my contract- but basically the same thing).  I absolutely have to get shit done and done fast if I don’t want to be jobless in less than a month.

But then my supervisor pulls me into a one-on-one meeting this morning to go over an elaborate plan to elevate me and give me more responsibility and all the new things that will be expected of me.  The good part is more hours and a raise, but I don’t know.  I just don’t know.

My mother has asked if I’ll come back and work for her as a paralegal for her firm.  She’s said she’s pretty sure she can promise me full-time hours.  It’s so very tempting…

But I do love so much about this job.

Just not right now.  And not today.

This moment, I just want to go into a corner (or the bathroom), curl up, and cry.

I’m not sure how much longer I can handle this without letting my coworkers see me cracking.  I can’t let that happen.  I have to remain sane in the eyes of others.

Figure it out your damn self

Can I just pretend I don’t have any legal expertise?  A 8+ paralegal experience and plans of going for a proper law degree.
Can I pretend I am not planning on going to law school? (eventually. hopefully. maybe. if money and mental-health allow.)

I wish it was legal to get a bar license under a pseudonym so no one except really close friends knew I was practicing. 

And I really wish I wasn’t a paralegal today.

One of my friends who I don’t see often asked me for some “unofficial legal advice” late yesterday/this morning.  Without going into too much detail, let’s just say it was regarding a small claims matter and trying to get money out of an ex.

I really didn’t want to touch it with a 50 foot pole.

But she’s a friend I’ve known a loooooong time (longer than Germany, actually), and even though our friendship has had many ups and downs, I am a sucker for that ol’ nostalgia.  Ever the Taurus.

So I tried.  I gave her the disappointing news that she didn’t have much of a case as she wasn’t technically legally involved in the matter (technically it’s a matter regarding Texas, but Texas isn’t super interested in pursuing it).  Said friend got pissed.  Obviously not what she wanted to hear.

I gave the best disclaimer I could.  I told her my expertise is mostly criminal and property law and I know very little about small claim civil matters.  And that I am not an attorney.

She send me a nasty text this morning saying a “real attorney” told her she has a “really good case” on her hands.



Next time, how about you don’t come to me for a free legal opinion.  Just figure it out your damn self.  I don’t need this resentment.  I don’t need the drama.  And I certainly don’t need the stress.

I hate being the only legal-type person in my group of friends.  I’m constantly the one called or texted at weird hours and told “Omg, I have to know what to do about this matter right now“.  Like I’m on a freakin’ retainer for them.

So I’m done.  I shall be playing dumb any time anyone asks my advice.
I have no idea how to go about handling that situation. 
Why don’t you consult a real attorney
Yeah, you do have to drop at least 300 bucks. 
Funny how free legal advice is scarce, huh?

I don’t need this.


I took 4 Primatene tablets today. 

I know that was dumb.

I know that.

I’m a little on edge now because of it.  Ok.  More than a little.  That much ephedrine going through my system is not a good thing.  I know.  I know I know I know.

Army’s pissed at me.  I dunno why I told him.  I should have just lied.  I did lie slightly, saying I was “distracted” and “didn’t realize” I hadn’t already taken a dose. 

Total lie.

I intended to take 4 from the beginning.

I’m not exactly sure why.  Except that work is stressing me. 

We have two people out of town this week and files piling up on my desk and my supervisor breathing down my neck and the program demanding moremoremore and a customer service webinar that’s required I attend but I can’t fit it into my schedule without taking a productivity hit but my supervisor wants higher and higher productivity and-

I just can’t do it all.

I thought maybe 4 would make me more of a superhero.

But I just feel nervous, my heart racing, and the air around me seems to be vibrating.

Is that normal?

It’s fine.  I can get through these files. I don’t settle.  I’ve never settled.  I am perfection at my job.  I always manage what is requested of me.


I can be Wonder Woman.


Wishes about Dad

I lied.  I do sort of have something to say.

I wish my dad was more like this dad or this great-with-acronyms-dad.

The ED is rampant today.  With my birthday being this weekend and a huge bash at a local drive-in movie theater being planned by Texas, I’m feeling fat, ugly, and just….awful.  I just want to not touch food until after Saturday night.

But I know I can’t do that and still keep this struggle a secret.  I have so many social events over the next 4 days.  And birthday dinners with various relatives.

I’m trying not to go crazy.

But it’s hard.

I just wish I had someone to be my rock, my raft, my life vest.

Well.  I wish my father would.  That he could even consider it.
I don’t understand why I try so hard to be a Daddy’ Girl, even though I know it will never happen.  But I always try.

I try to be that daughter he can be proud of.

And that’s why this must remain a secret.

Pete is dead


This is not Pete, but it looks almost exactly like him.

Pete is dead.  I am heartbroken, petrified, and mental over this whole thing.

I should probably clarify though- Pete is my car. 

He has been my car for many years.  He was a good car.  A Honda Accord, comfortable, reliable.  Older, but Honda’s are angels for years and years.  And Pete had been babied since and before I received him from my father.


Sunday morning as I was simply driving down the street in front of my apartment, the front tire suddenly snapped off.


Snapped off.

According to the mechanic, it has so many things broken that it’s going to take over $1,000 to fix it.  Which is so close to what the car is technically worth that I can’t justify it.  Plus, the mechanic admitted it wouldn’t be super reliable after this bad of a fix.

So I have to get a new car.

I’m not really financially ready for that, so I’m stressing.  I’m freaking.  I’m trying not to let my mind go to dark places.

But it’s really hard.

This month has been so difficult.

I just wonder if there will be a time soon that the universe will be done shitting on me.

This is why I don’t deserve to be a normal girl who is healthy and happy.


**Note** I’m sorry I haven’t responded much to your comments on my last post.  They were appreciated, but I really couldn’t respond too much without lashing out or getting even more self-loathing, so I didn’t think it was a good idea.  The comments are still much appreciated, despite being a bit triggery.  This month sucks.

No no no no

I so don’t need this right now.

I don’t need Army to text me like everything is normal.

I don’t need him to go on about how his dad was diagnosed with cancer and that’s why he’s been an asshole lately.

I don’t need him to congratulate me on all my new responsibilities at my job.

I don’t need him to try and offer advice on the crippling and weird back/side pain I’ve been having for a couple days now.

I don’t want things to go back.

And yet…

No. No no no no no.

I stepped off that roller coaster.  I am not even on the ride anymore.  I don’t need these fucking ups and downs anymore.  I don’t need it.  I don’t want it.

I haven’t had any issues or remorse over the past three weeks.  At all.

But…I miss him when he talks to me.

Uggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. $(*$)(*$#@)(*#$)(@#*

This is just so much fucking with my head that I don’t need right now.

I don’t I don’t I don’t.

I was so close to normal and now it’s just completely fucked.

Fucking men and their goddamn pull.  Just fucking don’t talk to him.  It isn’t hard.  Just stop looking at his texts.  Block him on fucking Facebook.  Just look away goddammit.

Why can’t I?  I hate myself so much right now.  So much.  I just want the swirling to stop stop stop stop.

Oh god.

And another thought peels away from the collective.

There are razor blades in our desk still…

No no no no no.  I’ve been so good.  I’ve been so good.

Doesn’t matter.  Badgirl always needs punished.  Always.

Fuck fuck fuck.

I don’t need this today.

I need help.

I can’t ask for help.  I’m a lady.  Ladies handle it themselves.

Gotta keep it fucking together.

“Go and fix your make up, girl, it’s just a break up
Run and hide your crazy and start actin’ like a lady
‘Cause I raised you better, gotta keep it together
Even when you fall apart”
-Miranda Lambert, Mama’s Broken Heart

It all just melts away…

Every time.

I don’t know how he does it.

I just know that anytime I spend an evening with him, no matter how stressed I am, no matter how many inner demons I’m fighting, no matter if I was annoyed with him to begin with…

It all just melts away.

I had to juggle my schedule a bit in order to meet with Army last night.  He didn’t give me much notice, but he did make a big deal about it being his only time off work before I go on vacation.

We went to an early dinner first and just sort of joked around, which was nice.  I still felt all stressed about the impending vacation and struggling with some self-image issues.  I didn’t really open up about it until we were back at his place and settling down to watch a movie (“The Woman in Black”: and I found it very enjoyable).

I don’t want to go into too graphic detail about our physical adventures or mindless conversation, but…

There were these moments where he just spent time telling me how wonderful I look.  How he can’t stop looking at me or touching me when I’m near him.

How I am perfect just the way I am.

I’ve heard other people say that, hundreds of times; it always just rolls off my back and breaks into thousands of shards at my feet.
Somehow it sounds meaningful from him.  His kisses and caresses are like a cleansing fire, burning away those inner demons that whisper all my insecurities.

I know it will only last a little while- being that we don’t see each other often and I can only hold the echos of his words and touch in my mind for so long.

But maybe it will carry me through this weekend.

Mini-vacation = stress

Months ago, one of my friends managed to secure a great deal on a hotel suite at a local waterpark resort.
It’s for the middle of December and back then I thought it would be a fun pre-Xmas break.  Especially since I knew I wouldn’t be making it to Chicago at all this year.

Well, the dates are this Sunday-Tuesday (Decemeber 16th-18th).  There are four or five of us going (it’s a big suite).  Due to other people’s work limitations, we’re only staying Sunday night and during the day on Monday.  We’ll drive back Monday evening.

I already took Monday and Tuesday off work.  So I get to have a lovely day off on Tuesday doing whatever the hell I want.

So far, this is the only thing that makes me smile about the vacation.  The part involving other people scares me.

First of all, I hate eating around other people.  Hate hate hate hate hate.  Especially for multiple meals.  It gives them an opportunity to notice how much I don’t eat, and then I get lectures (or jokes…) about eating disorders and blah blah blah.  Yeah.  I’ve heard it all before.  But do you see this flab???  It’s not like shoveling down junk food is going to melt it away.

Which leads me to the next point.

There’s the whole waterpark aspect.  I don’t want to wear a bathing suit.  There’s the fact that I’m the size of a whale, yes.  But also, the scars and marks on my thigh would be there for all the world.  There’s a reason I picked above my knee all those years ago.   Because unless I wear something super slutty (and then I wear stockings) I don’t show a thing.  But a bathing suit makes it impossible to hide those marks.

I don’t want anyone to see them.

To see how broken and messed up I am.

I really don’t want to go on this vacation.  I want to just stay home.

But I already paid and they’re counting on me and I hate to be that person who “flakes out”.  So I’ll wear that mask tightly and do the best I can at pretending to eat and have fun like a normal girl.

Aren’t vacations supposed to be de-stressing?


Tonight is hard.

Today was hard.

The past couple days have been hard.

My mask has been tightly in place until I am behind closed doors.

Thank goodness that skill was learned well.

I just feel like giving up so much right now. It’s so hard to stay postive with these crushing thoughts and constant insomnia.

I tried opening up a bit to Army about feeling down Friday. Via text, because texting is so magical in it’s security to allow deeper confessions without face-to-face or even verbal interaction.  Army used the phrase “we’ll figure it out”, which has just completely thrown my whole system for a loop. 

Somehow that simple phrase triggered a whole codependency fear I have. My issues should be solved by me alone (well…alone-ish, har har).

And now he hasn’t said a word to me since Friday night. He’s been active on Facebook, so it isn’t his job getting in the way. I’m sure I’m reading too much into it but I can’t stop.

I can’t stop.

Even when I unwrap a fresh blade, I notice how it says “made in USA” and my insides twist because I want to joke with him about of course the US still manages to make their own razor blades.

But I can’t.

I won’t seem needy. Or clingy. Or crazy.

So instead I break a promise.

Over and over I break that promise, the red lines multiplying.

My word isn’t worth shit.

I’m not worth shit.

I should just finish the bottle or bring the blade somewhere higher than my knee.

This is so hard.

My life is worthless.