HeLlO mY NaMe iS...

HeLlO mY NaMe iS...

Sunday, September 3, 2017

Lamictal Review: One Year Update

I wanted to come on here to give an update on my medication, and thoughts on medication in general.

It has been a year and two months of  my medication Lamictal. If you dont know already, Lamictal is a medication used to treat epilepsy and mood disorders such as bipolar disorder. I am taking it for moods.

I have been taking 150mg for a long while now. Most of the side effects I was having for months on end have decreased a lot. In the beginning, I was experiencing negative side effects such as slurred speech, vision issues, brain fog, short term memory, dyslexia, tremors, minor spots on my skin, fatigue, and melancholy. Slurred speech can be a problem, but only when I am experiencing hypomania. I still get brain fog occasionally and my short term memory can be a big problem when I am experiencing major depression (which does happen often). Tremors have gone except for in my right hand. Melancholy happens frequently.

The thing about this medication is that it does keep me away from any manic episode. Which is good for my life, however, it definitely inhibits me from feeling like sunshine like it used to make me feel. Lamictal DOES NOT help with the major depression aspect of my mood disorder.

My psychiatrist suggested I get put on Lexapro (to help with the depression), but I have not gone forward with that yet.

I am very torn on this medication. I am very torn on medication in general. Okay, so sure I have chemical imbalances in my brain, in which I need to be on medication to make up for those silly chemicals, but sometimes I just cant help but to think I don't need them. Yes, I have the stereotypical thought that medication keeps you from just BEING you. To feel the way you're supposed to, the way you were born, or the way your body and mind has learned to be. The stereotypical thought that you don't need these pills because it's making you worse, or not benefiting you in any way. But of course you have thousands of studies showing you that yes, these pills do indeed help you. They fill in those gaps. So is this what "normal" is supposed to feel like?

There are things that I have kept from my therapists and psychiatrist (throughout the years) simply because I know that they will want to put me on more medication. More pills. More chemicals. Necessary? Probably. Worth it? Probably not. I may have been cut from the wrong dough, but I am not crazy, okay?

The day I went in to see my psychiatrist about coming off of Lamictal, he instead wanted to add an antidepressant. I told him about the short term memory and how bad it can get and he stated that depression can have deep impacts on short term memory and brain fog. And since my Lamictal hasn't helped with the depression, he thought it might be a better idea to ADD an antidepressant to see if that would take care of the depression, which in turn would help with my short term memory. Two birds with one stone. He told me to think about it and I left the appointment. That was a couple months ago I believe.

If I told my therapist and psychiatrist the things I SHOULD be telling them, I'd only be on more medication which is what I want to steer clear of. I have a lot of doubts about medication. I do. I wish I didn't. I wish I could be totally pro-medication. But am unfortunately one of those idiots who believe that "you are the way you are" "you shouldn't cover up your feelings with a bandage" "you should FEEL fully and entirely" I am I am I am.

And that is where the saying, "It is both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so very deeply" fits so well.

This medication is tricky, because if I want to get off of it, the risk for Steven's Johnson Syndrome increases, alongside developing seizures as it treats epilepsy too. Even if I am not epileptic and have never had a seizure before, I can still develop seizures. And if later on I change my mind and say, "Okay this medication actually really does help me, can I go back on," the risk of SJS and seizures increases yet again. At least that's what my doc says. Risky risky risky.

I am extremely iffy about this medication and what to do about it.

My soul journey is moving forward. I'm moving with it this time. I don't want anything to hold me back. So I'm not going to let it. I don't know if this medication is a hindrance or a liberation. It doesn't feel liberating. Of course it's not a cure-all! But I am tired of feeling so down, especially when life is good.

I know that medication can be extremely helpful to many, many people. The medications I have tried have failed me, maybe I haven't found the right one. But who wants to go through trial and error for years on end? Adding new chemicals, taking them away, trying new chemical, taking them away, over and over till your brain is literally mush and falling out your ears and eyes. Guhhh. Blah blah, and whatever.

This isn't my greatest written post, I am just so uninspired and tired. Not going to spell-check.

I love you all. Stay strong all you beautiful, sunshine-y people!

Thursday, March 23, 2017

David is God

I have not written here in months....well....I have attempted to and never publish them because I am a scaredy-cat, so they sit in my drafts.
SO much has happened. First of all, this blog is a year old already, which I thought seemed off, but you know how time is. I know this has really mostly been an un-interactive blog for the most part, but it does bring many smiles to my face to see that people still come here to read my junk.
I love you all from the bottom of my heart.. <3

Okay, so I'm not going to get into many details here, because so much has happened the past few months. The end of 2016 was terrible. Lots of heart-ache. I also started back up at the college here and there are three days left of winter quarter and on to spring quarter. I am still aiming to be a psychiatrist, though I am mostly going with the flow to feel around and see what is right for me. If I could, I would gather all of the people that need guidance, confidence, strength, hope for life and love, and give them all just that. Honestly, it makes me stupidly emotional over the fact that I just simply can't. I cried about it yesterday, and felt silly for it.

Half the time, I just want to run away to a monastery and heal people.

I would love to go to Bali for a good length of time. I don't know why. Just a calling I guess.

Life has been hitting me pretty hard for a long time now. I have been in a depressive episode now for two months. And I keep feeling like I'm just about to climb over that borderline only to fall back down the other side, deeper into my depression. It is getting very tiresome and I just want to feel the sunshine on my back again. My identity-finding is hard, because I am constantly spinning like a broken compass. Like Jack Sparrow's compass...ehemm...Captain Jack Sparrow's compass, except it is actually broken. I just hope to god I stop feeling like a broken compass.

My therapist actually suggested I watch this TedTalks video on Youtube about Multi-potentiality. Sigh. Can't I just be set on ONE thing. I drive myself crazy.

I'm just drinking some whiskey, listening to Iron & Wine and thinking about this quote by Buddha that goes, "Your purpose in life is to find your life's purpose and give your whole heart and soul to it." And to me that is complicated. Yet simple. Like I feel I was literally put here on Earth to be David's momma. And so I put everything towards him. I give my whole heart and soul to him. To being his momma who loves him unconditionally for all of eternity. So maybe no matter what I choose to do with my career or finding a way to heal people, just being a mom is my life's purpose. Nothing else. Everything in my life has literally led up to him. Only him. He is the one who I was born for. He saves my life every day and he doesn't even know it. I get to wake up next to him and share food with him and he will hold my hand and guide me to where he wants to go and that is my life's purpose right there. Anything that I do in life, is HIM. So maybe it's as simple as that.
I guess I just freak out a lot. About everything. About time running out. About figuring out who I am. But really, I know myself a lot more than I think. I'm trying to work on relaxing. Also trying to find God again. Whatever God is to you, to me God is Love. The Universe is Love. I need to connect again. I need Love. And so that is what I am working on.

I haven't made any more YouTube videos because I am just totally doubtful and too timid right now. I am extremely embarrassed. But maybe someday when I am more together. I am Humpty Dumpty. I keep falling off the wall, like I said earlier.

But I am still on Lamictal. I will post an update on here about that very, very soon.

I wish I could come on here and tell you every detail of life and all my thoughts and feelings I've been experiencing for months now....I really wish I could. I am just not ready to share these things yet.

Love is....ever-changing. It's scary. It sucks. It's hard to keep up. Especially when love is always changing because I am changing.

Life is....mother fucking hard. It scares me. I hate it. It's hard to keep up. But I appreciate every single moment. Life is beautiful.

David is...the definition of love. David is God haha.

Wednesday, November 9, 2016

Pile of Sweater

Everything has fallen apart. The sweater that was unraveling, the one I kept holding together, has fallen through my hands. I loved that fucking sweater. Just a pile of string on the floor now. I can see what it used to be but I never really learned to crochet! I can't fucking fix this!!
And I'm scared. Scared to be living in the United States of Fucking Hypocrisy.
Scared to be alone. Scared to feel more pain.
The cat is projectile vomiting on the rug and she's already skin and bones.
I'm trying to submerge myself in the music because I know what happens when you submerge yourself in the darkness.
But is this really happening??
Can't I make it all stop?
Swollen eyes every day. Headache a quarter after one. Fear of the night time.
Just wanna drink and pretend that everything isn't so bad.
"Yeah we're good." Swig. Smile. Swig. Smile. Swig. Smile.
There's more I'd like to say, and I am confined.
The things I thought were impossible have revealed themselves as possible and I am stunned. Carving my heart out. Pressing my salty hand on the opening in my chest.
And the fucked up thing is...I've been holding my hand there for a long time. The burning never goes away.
The blood won't clot. "Stop!!!"
I guess I did always say, "Anything is possible!"
But this? No..
No no no..
And yet, all that's left is the dust.

Monday, October 31, 2016

Honey Sunshine Chai Tea Warm Milk

Last night I was watching my son sleep peacefully. The purple and orange Christmas lights hanging on the ceiling, shining down on his perfect, small, comfortable body; his small breaths; his little but strong chest moving up and then down.
And I lie there with him, staring in wonder. A feeling of uneasiness settled in too. Worried. This little boy will continue to grow bigger and bigger, older and older, venturing out into the unknown.
Staring down at his little neck that was openly tempting me to kiss it all over, not wanting to wake him.
And I thought of his future girlfriend, or his wife, and thought:
"How lucky she will be. THE luckiest girl in the world. To be able to kiss THAT neck. So passionately. Hold him dearly. Kiss him sweetly. Run her fingers through his hair. Caress his incredibly soft skin."
And each time I thought these things, my tummy got warmer. My heart fluttered.
Thinking of how he smells of honey and sunshine. Chai tea and warm milk.
I realized then, that it was me who was the luckiest woman in the world. And his wife or girlfriend or whoever, would only be second luckiest.
Because no matter what, I'll always remember him as THIS. And I'll have watched him throughout the years and know that he is my son who always, if you closed your eyes while you lie next to him sleeping, immersed yourself in a field of wildflowers with the sun shining down on you both, hearing the hum of the honeybees. The sweet, warm breeze flowing through your body. THAT is my son.

And all these years I have with him, I will be able to kiss that neck. I can hold him dearly and kiss him sweetly on the lips as he dreams, keeping those nasty nightmares away. I will run my fingers through his hair when he is feeling sick or upset. And caress his soft, warm skin when he is feeling sleepy.
And that makes me, truly, the luckiest girl in the world.

Wednesday, October 12, 2016

Chaotic Nothingness

so tired of being hungry
and not being able to eat anything.
holding my breath
waiting for you to speak up
say what you want.
i'm at a loss for words.
confused in the chaos my fucking brain shoves in my face
smearing it
can't breathe
the chaos is filling up my nostrils
ears muffled by it
the goop in my eyes
cant open them or close them
they just are.
the putty spilling out of my mouth
stuck in my throat
grasping my stomach
holding it tight
everything hurts
i just want to hear it
so say it!
say something before i implode

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Life Update!

Just wanted to share my latest video with you all! I have a new one coming up soon. Been editing it in small parts, but keep your eye open on YouTube and don't forget to subscribe!!!!

Latest Video!

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

The Laundry

She walks off the elevator and takes a left.
Walking down that same blueish-grey hallway, cold concrete floor, wondering who could possibly live in the basement.
There was an apartment number down there!
It gave her shivers every time she was next to it, as if she could feel someone looking at her through the peephole.
Trying to shake the thought from her mind, she unlocks the glass door and walks cautiously into the laundry room.

Alone. Again. Quiet.

All the mailboxes in a long line, stacked upon each other; their silvery doors.
She liked trying to memorize the apartment numbers.

She huffed.

"Okay, fine, I'll do it..." She sighed to herself, pulling the load of laundry beside her.

Which washer should I choose this time?

She liked to rotate the order, so every washer got a chance to be used.
She grabbed the coin purse off the top of the pile of clothes and shook em just to hear the sound they made for her. Smiling.

"Thank you for letting me to be able to wash these clothes, Little Quarters!" She was proud of them.

One, two, three, four, five quarters slip perfectly into the slot and fall harshly into that empty metal box.

"Make sure it's on cold!" Her mother would always remind her.

"I knowww..." She'd respond.

She liked filling the soap lid with the goopy, blue detergent. She'd do it so slow that it almost looked like it was falling in slow motion.
Pouring it into the running water, watching the bubbles start to form, she puts in item after item; making sure they are thoroughly drowning in the water, making her hands cold.

She sighs and closes the lid, which accidentally slips from her grip and slams against the metal opening and fills the empty concrete room with a startling BANG!
Her heart skipping a beat, and than racing for a few more seconds following.
The washer goes into full, washing mode.
When it starts to rock back and forth, when it wanted to break free from this horrid basement it seemed, was her cue to go peruse the "Free Table."
It was her favorite part about doing laundry.
She almost always found something she'd hold near and dear to her heart.
Jewelry, books, clothes, CD's...it was awesome!
This time she only found a few goofy looking earrings that you snap on over your ears. Old people wear them all the time.

"Dammit!" She walked back over the angry washer.

She leaned on the lid with her head cupped in her hand, watching the glowing, blue-green numbers in the time box count down the minutes.




She was still alone.

With the quiet mailboxes and empty dryers. The empty basement with the creepy storage units. That creepy basement apartment...
There were small windows you could look out of too.
But it always felt like someone was staring down through them, looking at her little body.
She shivered and tried to think of something else.

Counting mailboxes.
Looking back over at the time left on the washer.




God, finally!

"I wonder what my mom is doing." She thought to herself.

"Tomorrow, I'm gunna go sit out in the grass. Maybe I'll take my turtle with me too so he can get some exercise. Not that he's fat or anything like that, but I bet he likes to feel the sunshine on his back too!" She was excited for tomorrow to come.

The washer finally calmed down and she could tell it was tired. How could you not be? All that work!
She opened the lid carefully, so as not to drop it like last time and scare the shit outta her.

Looking over at the dryers lined up against the wall, she decided to go with the middle one. Again, she liked giving all the washers and dryers a chance. The middle one's turn was up.

Again, pulling the coin purse from out of the laundry basket, she gives em a little shake to wake them up for their weekly duty.

"Wake up! Wake up! It is time Little Quarters!" She giggled.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five more quarters into that little slot.
She transferred the clothes sloppily from the washer to the dryer, dropping a few socks and T-shirts along the way.
At this point, she just wanted to go lay down in her nice, tall, cozy loft bed.
She was outgrowing it and had to be careful to not wake up too fast and smack her head on the ceiling.
But she loved her bed. Always.

She sat up on top of the dryer and pressed start.


She loved how warm the dryer made her body. It rocked her just a little bit too. It was comforting. The little rhythms it made.

Now she had time to ponder on things.
Her feelings on certain subjects.
She wanted to read. Quietly. Peacefully in her bed. All night long.
Become friends with all her favorite characters. Live their lives. Just for a day.

She loved her imagination.


She hummed some lyrics from one of the songs her mom was playing by, The Shins.
She dreaded having to go to school on Monday. She hated it because her only real friend was her teacher.
That's how it was every year...
She knew to get close to the teachers. And she loved them all. What they gave her. What they taught her.
Sometimes during lunch, she'd play on the swings. The whole time. She loved how it felt like she could fly. Leaning back in her swing and seeing that big blue sky flow in her vision, those butterflies getting her stomach. She liked that feeling.


Then she imagined her mother's hair. The way it fell in her face. Or how it smelled when she walked by.
She loved when her mom would wake up. And her hair would be beautifully messy. And she always smelled like copper sunshine.
And the way her hands felt. So soft, and they were elegant looking.
She stared down at her own hands and imagined her hands as her mothers and smiled.

She remembered a time when she was little and her mother was doing laundry. She was looking up at her quizzically.

"Mom?" She said shyly.

"Mhmm.." Her mom replied, putting the newly washed clothes into the dryer.

"How old are you, mom?" She asked.

"Twenty-eight.Why?" She laughed.


She climbed off the dryer and brought the laundry basket closer to her. Made sure the detergent and dryer sheets-

"Crap! I forgot to use a dryer sheet!!" She exclaimed.

Sigh... "maybe she won't know I forgot."

She pulled open the dryer and grabbed as many clothes as she could and stuffed them into the basket.

"I'll fold them upstairs."

Everything was clean and ready to go.
But there was always one thing she never forgot to do:

Check every washer and dryer for lost quarters.

All four dryers were empty.
Three out of the four washers had three quarters in total.

"Yes!!!" She was excited.

Sometimes, she'd secretly sneak a couple quarters from the coin purse and add them to her new-found quarters so that she could grab something from the vending machine on her way back upstairs.
This time she had just enough to buy some Gobstoppers.

She booked it down the creepy hallway, and stood directly in front of the vending machine, scanning for the Gobstoppers.

"Ah-ha!" Gotcha.

One. Two. Three. Four quarters in the perfect little slot.

The black metal coiled itself out and down dropped her candy. She hid them in her pajamas and turned to her right to press the button to go back up.

The elevators were ancient, it seemed. Sometimes when she got on, she was nervous that it would get stuck and she'd have to climb out from the top and somehow make it up the rest of the way. Dark and creepy, old elevator shaft. More shivers.
The elevators doors opened for her and dared her anyway.

"Okay, elevator, be nice to me tonight." She was strict about it.

She pulled the laundry basked behind her and into the elevator, as it's old door slowly closed her in.