Tag: anxiety and me

I don’t know what I was thinking

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I don’t know what I was thinking.

I thought that I missed my home.  But home has changed, nothing is how it was.  This is not what I wanted nor expected.

I was so excited to come stay here again.  I thought I missed some slice of comfort that I can now see is long gone.

I hate living without my love.  Life just is not the same without him in it.  I can’t wait to see him in a few days.  Quite honestly, it’s the only thing holding me together right now.

I cried all day and all night the first few days I was here.  I think I may have missed the “idea” of “home” and some MAJOR alone time but the reality does not feel as good as the idea initially did.

Part of me wants to be here, I miss my mom and I wanted to take advantage of spending some time with her.  But she too, is different.  Which is fine, that’s life, people change, I am just not used to this new mom I am experiencing.  But then again, maybe it’s me.  I have been actively doing this EMDR Therapy for over a year now and I am just now realizing as I am typing this; it’s not home or mom that has changed, it’s me.  I have changed and I now know that I cannot flourish in this environment.  Too bad it took me bringing back 2 and a half van loads of stuff and partially setting myself up a room to realize that.

I am so grateful that I can see this change and make the decisions I need to make for me. Which is what I thought I was doing, but I was wrong. Oh so very wrong.

I feel like my younger-selves had too much control of the the bus for a few weeks there.  They steered me in a direction that, sure, 10 years ago may have been a solid option, but here, today, in 2017 I am not so sure that this is the right way for my life-bus to be driving.  Now that I am back [home] I see how much better I was getting away.  I mistook (my own personal) anger and confusion as a sign that I need to go and completely dismissed that I am in therapy and that my disassociate tendencies have been playing tricks on me.

I am not the same person I was 3 years ago and I may never be the same.  The need to accept that.  I can’t go back.  I can’t get the years and all the mistakes back.  I can’t right all my wrongs and I need to stop trying to fit myself into who I think I am or who I was.  I am who I am and that is okay.  My heart wants something different now.  I know that there may be a lot of mom lectures in my near future but I need to remember what I want and that I need to stay true to myself now.  I am a full fledged adult.  I hope she realizes I am trying to do what is best for me and it’s okay if she disagrees.  It’s not her call to make anymore.

I feel like a lunatic.  I thought this is what I wanted and as soon as I got here my heart sank.  I tried desperately to not led the dread set in but it indeed bombarded me like a punch to the face.  I love him and I don’t want to live over a half hour away.  I don’t sleep the same without him next to me, I don’t feel like myself, and I have next to no appetite.  I thought living separately was just what I needed.  I don’t really know what I was thinking.  I isolate myself more here.  I get agitated faster here.  I am more prone to anxiety here.  There’s too many damn cats here.  I can’t go anywhere because there is no where to walk to, I am too low on gas to get to town [unnecessarily] and I don’t know what I would go to town for right now anyways.

A few more days.  I have already promised myself  to take myself and my cat back for at least the weekend this coming Friday.  I am so excited for Friday I don’t even know if I will sleep the night before.  I have already started pre-packing.

I just want to go back.  I can’t wait to go back.  I need to go back.

FOR THE LOVE OF OUTFITS

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I have loved putting together outfits since as long as I can remember.  Even in Kindergarten I longed to be in control of my wardrobe.  I still remember some of the outfits my mom used to make me wear – the good, the bad, and the ugly.  We just don’t share the same taste in all facets of fashion.

In High School I spent my spares in the library mulling over any fashion magazine I could find.  Drinking in the style.  I would then sketch out outfits in my sketchbook, wether I had the item in my closet or not, if I had a cool outfit idea I had to sketch it out.  I was overjoyed when we learned a little bit of pattern making in 9th grade Home Ec. I was tickled pink to make my first pair of pants – a forest green pair of wide-leg track pants with an elastic waist (it was the late 90’s and I was having a “wide-leg” phase).  I learned to crochet too, creating scarves and accessories for myself.  I haven’t sewn any wear-ables in ages but I continue to crochet from time to time.

In College I took Art & Design as well as Makeup Artistry courses.  Though I enjoyed these programs and I was and am able to apply much of what I have learned to fashion it wasn’t my passion.  I had originally wanted to attend Ryerson University in Toronto for Fashion Design.  By the time it was time for me to go to College I could not fathom moving out as my anxiety had begun to take hold.  I don’t really regret it as I know myself and myself just couldn’t do it.  Perhaps I should have made myself try anyways but whatever, it is what it is.  I have found something that both brings me the joy and feeling of passion I have been searching for AS WELL AS helping me to keep my mind busy and off of the million and one anxious thoughts that swirl in my brain.

OUTFIT THERAPY.

When I am picking out outfits, planning videos, filming, and editing I feel good.  I can get lost in it and the hours fly by.  I feel content.  It makes me feel good about myself.  I don’t worry or overthink anything, I just do what my creative self feels like and it is fantastic.  I make videos out of the pure enjoyment of filming and editing and I don’t do it for anyone else but myself.  Yes, I share them to YouTube but inevitably I am doing them for me.  If you happen to watch and like them then that is an added BONUS :D.

I feel proud of myself when I see what I have created.  And I love knowing that one day, when I am not here, my videos will be, or that in 10, 20, 30+ years I can look back at myself “in living colour” and remember that fragment of time.  A fragment of time where I am just lost in the moment of doing what I love.  I am not sad, depressed, anxious, or angry.  I am happy, content, and ambitious.

I plan to continue filming and blogging because it makes me feel like the person I want to be.  For those who read, watch, follow, and subscribe I thank you SO MUCH for sharing an interest in me and my journey.  I appreciate your support more then you will ever know.

fortheloveofoutfits2Fortheloveofoutfits

CLICK HERE TO CHECK OUT MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL. The link will open in a new window or tab for your viewing pleasure.

I don’t really know why I continue to be drawn to the YouTube community.  Every time I try to stop or I think I am absolutely, 110% done with it I end up picking up my camera again.  Every time I pick up that camera from the moment I turn it on I am engaged and focused on something that I love.

I love filming.  I love editing.  I love learning about filming and editing.  I love learning new things.  I love music and being able to put music in my videos.  It is fun and it brings back a feeling I had forgot I could have.

THERAPY THURSDAY | July 2016

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I started therapy before my Dad died, before I quit my job, before everything got really bad.  I am still here and I am desperately trying to finish what I started.  I have quit a few times only to return in need of help.  I went with the goal of receiving and completing EMDR Therapy (what is EMDR? click here to learn more ).

I am currently pretty much smack dab in the middle of reprocessing.  I am in the third and final stage, the home stretch if you will, and I hate it.  I want to be finished.  I want to be finished and I hate it not because of the therapy itself but because of how I am feeling physically and emotionally towards my environment and surroundings.  I am starting to see certain people for who they are and it makes me very sad.  I hate living in the my mother’s basement and I need to get out.  I should have gotten out a long time ago.  I should of used my inheritance to get myself out of here.  This environment is crushing my soul.  It is very negative, tense, and close minded here, it makes me feel like I am suffocating.  My boyfriend lives with me and for that I am forever grateful.  Without him I would crawl into bed and just stay there.  But we both know we need to get out of here.  We want out so bad.

EMDR has been monumentally helpful to me since the very beginning.  What is hard is seeing people and situations differently.  Realizing you need to and want to make changes but you can’t yet.  Feeling yourself change.  I am feeling myself change.  I was really worried about this change in the beginning – who will I be? what will I like? will I like me?? – essentially WHO THE HELL AM I REALLY? but the more we press forward in EMDR the more solid in myself I feel.  The more I understand why I feel so overly sensitive, why I decided to silence myself and essentially just give in to the constant yelling.  I understand why I was giving up.

A person can only take so much before they give up and after living through multiple traumas since the age of 2, by 28 I was out of gas.  I was out of gas and my best driving buddy – my dad- had just left me.  Needless to say, I trashed the [metaphorical] car.  I stopped sleeping, I stopped eating, I started drinking because nothing would take the pain away.  I looked worse and worse, I bleached, coloured, and dyed my hair so much I had to chop it all off a la pixie.  Somewhere along the line I plucked almost all my eyebrows out, which I am STILL trying to grow back.

It was in that time period when I looked and felt my worst that an Angel came to me.  To this day I truly believe my Dad had some hand in it, I think he was watching from above and knew what I needed.  Who I needed.  It was a few weeks after I had started drinking. I was already (back) in therapy but I was struggling.  At this time I should also note that my father was an alcoholic and I never really enjoyed drinking, I stayed away from it, everything about it turned me off.  Then one day I just stopped caring.  I found a bottle in the house and just started drinking.  My days became a routine of waiting for the liquor store to open so I could get home and drink … Until it dawned on me to buy BIGGER bottles (oh geez…).  I spent a lot of time alone, with my short hair, drinking on the deck listening to the oldies.  I do believe that is one of my most sad times in my life.  I was very sad and I felt very alone.  I felt like I was dying inside.

And then something happened.

One day this lovely and incredibly handsome Facebook friend I had insisted we meet at the beach.  We had been fb chatting and texting each other for months but being so preoccupied in my grief I didn’t want to think too much of it only to become more sad if he wasn’t interested in me.  Luckily he had caught me before I made my first drink of the day and I could still drive.  I blogged about it here!

I did not know then but I know now that he was my Angel.  I did not drink that day.  Nor did I drink the day after.  He became my other half and inevitably saved me from going down a very dark road.  He built me up when I was weak and enabled me to continue therapy, he inspires me to get better and to do better just by being there and caring.

My therapy sessions improved immediately.  Finally feeling like I was loved and supported made it so much easier to go to therapy, to actually want to do the therapy.  See, I did not realize then and I am just coming to realize NOW how little love and support I was feeling and getting before he came along.  I was made to feel like my feelings didn’t matter, my anger was unreasonable, that I was being dramatic, when really I was crying out for help.   He could see it and he did not run away from it.

My therapy session this week involved this topic of feeling very dismissed by certain people and learning that it’s not really their fault.  They simply do not have the capacity or willingness to understand my feelings.  This saddens and angers me but at the same time has brought me the decision that those people shall not need to be informed.  They cannot understand so why waste my breath?  It is a new and interesting decision for me but I want to be happy.  I am sick of being weighed down by other people and their ignorance towards mental health.  Especially when those people are family members.

I now need to focus. Focus on finishing therapy and building my life with my Angel.  I am terrified because I do not know what is on the other side.  At the same time I am grateful because without therapy and his love and support through all of this I cannot fathom where I would be or what I would be doing.

That’s all I have for this, my first instalment of “Therapy Thursday”.  Today I just let my thoughts come out regarding this week’s therapy session.  I am not sure where this series is going but I plan to keep writing and find out!

Thank you so much for taking the time to read what I write, I appreciate it more than you know.

 

Quotable Quotes | Led Zeppelin

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“Standing on a hill in my mountain of

dreams telling myself it’s not as hard,

hard, hard as it seems”.

~ Led Zeppelin | Going to California

Ain’t that the truth.  For me anyways.

Even now I feel as thought I am standing on a hill, a very small one, in my mountain of dreams.  I keep telling myself it is not as hard as it seems.  Life is not as hard as it seems.  I keep thinking and hoping that if I work hard and keep going that I will reach the mountain.  I will reach my dreams.

I do not know how I will get there but at this point in time I am trying not to concern myself with the how.  The how will come.  At this point I need to worry about me, my metal health, and getting through therapy so I can live my life to its fullest.  There are many little hills to stand on before reaching my mountain.  I must reach them all so to ensure that I will be ready, willing, and capable when I reach my dreams.

My dreams are not huge.  Really.  I just want to be happy.  I want to love and be loved.  I want to work and make enough money to live off.  I don’t want to be constantly worried that something bad is going to happen.  I want to move out of my mothers basement into a place that is ours (by boyfriends &mine).  I can’t wait to feel what it is like to wake up and not feel as thought I am mentally and creatively suffocated.  To wake up and begin my day without running into triggers before I have even had my morning tea.  These triggers range from anxiety, depression, and panic – sometimes all 3 at the same time which makes for quite the EXPLOSIVE morning let me tell you.  It’s also exhausting and embarrassing but I can’t help it sometimes.

My bud can only bloom so far under these conditions.  It will only reach a certain point before it will stop and stall.  I feel like I am already beginning to stall.  At this point (July 2016) I wanted to be further along in not only therapy but in life as well.  I have been off [from work] for 3 years now, I had hoped these years would have been more productive, on my part, creatively.

I want(ed) to do more about mental health and the issues and stigma that surrounds it.  I wanted to create an example, a documentation, a smiling face that says “hey! it’s ok! You are not your Mental Illness! You can do this!”.  I want(ed) to create a community of care where we can share our plights and talk them over.  Help each other out and lift each others spirits in a positive and non-judgemental environment.  If you are in therapy we can encourage each other to keep at it – sometimes therapy is great and sometimes it sucks.  If your not in therapy for whatever reason that is cool too, maybe you have your own way of coping and that is awesome.  I am not here to preach therapy but I would like to promote positivity, talk about mental health, and ultimately learn to love and accept myself.

My mom has often said “go with what you know”.  After battling PTSD over half my life I feel that it is something I know very well.  I know what it’s like to be misdiagnosed and medicated (ahem … overmedicated).  I know what it’s like to not be able to go to work or school because you are so anxious or depressed you simply cannot get out of bed NEVER MIND leave the house.  I know what it’s like to feel like you are crazy because the “norms” just can’t understand what is wrong.  Therapy. Oh my lanta do I know therapy.  I’m on my 3rd therapist now, so far she has stuck but we have had some fraying moments.

I know a lot about dealing with anxiety and depression and I don’t know what else to do with all of my information except share it.  Share my story, share my journey, for not only you, the reader, but for myself to look back on when I [presumably] reach that damn mountain.

The Morning Storm

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I hate mornings.  I always have, and quite frankly I think mornings hate me too.

Every night I go to bed knowing that the Storm in my head is brewing.  I don’t even know what happens to my brain while I am sleeping but there is SOMETHING going on there.  If I wake up too early – regardless of whether I have had enough sleep or not – I feel anxious, nauseous, angry, confused, and agitated.  It is a lovely combination that makes for one hell of a Storm in my head every. Single. Morning.

It is frustrating and depressing.  I hate feeling so nasty in the morning.  I wish I could feel as good at 7am as I do at 10pm.  This problem has plagued me for as long as I can remember, even as far back as pre-school.  It’s like as soon as my eyes open I am precipitately anxious.  I am worried and anxious about my day before it even starts.  It got so bad [when I was still working] I literally threw up before every 7am shift I was scheduled for.  It makes no difference if I go to bed early, try to catch a nap the day before, eat breakfast, don’t eat breakfast, snack before bed, no snack before bed, bed location, gravol before bed – nada.  NADA.

I have learned that I need space in the morning and I need to give myself time to relax and process the upcoming day – wether I am busy [that day] or not.  The morning Storm usually only lasts about an hour but has been known to knock out power until well after lunch.  Either way, it makes it very difficult for me to get motivated and moving.  It takes so much energy to battle to storm and not let it get out of control (HeLLoooo morning PANIC ATTACK !), that by the time it clears I am mentally drained.

By mid-afternoon the skies are always clear and the morning Storm is but a memory.  A memory I know I will repeat again tomorrow.  I also find I need to be wary of evenings and certain lighting (i.e. The Keg’s dim dinner lights) because for some reason both can be intensely triggering.  The storm can re-appear and riek havoc on whatever it is I may be doing.  I have a few places I avoid – such as The Keg – as a safety measure against the Storm.

I find it best to not ignore the warning signs, my mind gets foggy, the winds of too many thoughts pick up, the spiddle spaddle of anxiety drops fall throughout my body and the tremble of nausea begins like thunder rolling in the distance.  At this time it is a good idea to get myself to a sheltered, safe place quickly.  Once in my safe place I can ride out the waves of the Storm, however long and exhausting that may be.

I am lucky.  I [now] have a few life preservers that come floating to me when the Storm begins to flood, and good grief, does it flood.  My main preserver is my boyfriend, my best friend, my soul mate – he loves me unconditionally and is not at all intimidated by the Storm.  He helps to remind me that I am not my illness and I can [and am] capable of being loved.  He accepts me for who I am and never judges me because of the Storms.  He has taught me how important it is to feel loved and supported.  What an incredible gift that has been.  My second preserver is therapy.  With [going on 3 years of] therapy I am learning to cope with the devastating effects of childhood trauma, sexual, verbal and emotional abuse.  I am also learning to cope with my Fathers death which was sudden, unexpected, and absolutely crippling to me.  Though distant, he too was a preserver and I lost him.  Without my boyfriend and without therapy I would never stay afloat.

It is a battle. Sometimes it’s daily.  But I refuse to give up.  The eye of the Storm is fast approaching and I will fight it.  I will fight to see the rainbow at the end.

DAILY PROMPT : Storm 

I am sad. Sad I am.

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Depressed again.  It comes and goes as it pleases and I hate it.

I tell myself I am only ruining my own day (my mothers words actually), but sometimes I just get in a rut and I need to be left alone… At least by certain people.  Also, I have now learned that when one is loathing one’s living arrangements, it can really weigh on one’s mind.  “One” being me.

I so desperately want to move out (of my mothers basement) with my boyfriend.  Just the thought of not living at home feels SO GOOD.  I want out so bad.  Due to unforeseen crappy jobs and [until recently] planning on paying for everything myself kind of put me 10 years behind schedule in the moving-out department.  Right now I am on a short term disability which hardly provides enough to pay my bills, never mind cover my therapy appointments.  Though this is temporary the lack of jobs in my area combined with my severe anxiety towards leaving the house for 6-12 hours a day does not help the situation.  I have no idea what the hell I am going to do when I am off disability.

I love people that tell me I need to move – Ya, because I don’t know that.  You need money to move and I have no money.  I have tried many little projects to generate money on the side; eBay, Etsy, YouTube, Storenvy; after 3 years none are worth my time.  I either have what nobody wants or I am just making and selling what everyone else is.  It is very discouraging.  I would love to work from home somehow, in some way.  I would work SO MUCH if I could do it from the comfort of my own home.  I have tried a few online jobs too- Swagbacks, Megatypers, Surveys … again NONE are worth my time, or yours for that matter.  I’m NEVER eligible to take a damn survey, oh the frustration.

I still love Youtube thought lately my viewing and interest has been dwindling.  I don’t know if this is something to do with therapy or perhaps my extreme disappointment in myself regarding my own Youtube channel.  I want(ed) to film regularly, if not daily.  I want(ed) to talk about therapy and anxiety and all the lovely things that go along with that.  I want(ed) to create [more] outfit videos and get back into one of my first loves – fashion.  But then part of me doesn’t care.  I hate that part of me doesn’t care. Who am I if I don’t love these things anymore?

Then again… back to moving out – I feel like I would feel more inclined to do these aforementioned things if I was not here (sitting in my mothers basement, fracking FREEZING from the a/c).  I stay down here because well, there is no room for me anywhere else in the house and I feel comfortable here, its my comfy cave, but at the same time I hate it.  I am grateful- don’t get me wrong- but just because I am grateful [to my mom for putting up with me and my mental instability] does not mean I am happy.  It could be worse but it could also be better.  I am trying to seek out the positivity in life and ignore the negative.  That is very hard here.  Good test I must say, but hard.

I actually worry that I might die before I get to move out and live independently.  Who knows what could happen between now and whenever the hell we manage to get outta here.  I’m 32, another 5 years and I’ll be 37, if I am still here at 37 I really don’t know what I will do with myself.  I didn’t even want to start working again while living here (unless online/from home).  We live SO FAR from everything.  Just driving to a town where there might be work will take over half an hour AT LEAST.  I hate it.  I am stating to see how condo living in a town or city can be appealing.  I want to be able to walk places for crying out loud.  The only place I can walk here is to the end of the driveway to the mailbox which at times CAN be exciting not gonna lie, but only when I am expecting something and thats never these days.

Sometimes I wonder if its just me.  Maybe I was just born this way.  I was born in February of 1984, 3 months earlier then I was due.  I spent the first weeks of my life in an incubator and I feel lucky to have not only survived but to have been blessed with no physical or mental damage.  Then I got Kawasaki Disease when I was 2.  Very rare, can be deadly but thanks to Sick Children’s Hospital in Toronto I lived.  Again, without physical or mental damage.  I cheated death at least twice now and sometimes it makes me wonder.  Maybe I am having a hard time finding my place in the world because I wasn’t suppose to be here.

I plan to stay and see what happens.  I like to hope I am here for a reason.

i, Carla

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i, Carla live with mental illness.

At this current date and time I am working through Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.  I get nervous easily, am prone to panic attacks at any given moment in time, I don’t like to go out a lot, sometimes I don’t get dressed for days… the list goes on and on.

i, Carla am not my metal illness.

Sometimes I struggle to realize this but it is true.  Mental illness is a part of me but it is not who I am.  I have goals and dreams and though it is a struggle I am trying to work towards them.

i, Carla will succeed.

I want to be successful and happy in my own mind, body and life.  I don’t want to worry what other people think because those are other people.  I am me, not them.

i, Carla understand.

I understand the struggles and limitations mental illness can present in one’s life.  The frustration that daily tasks can present.  The outright loathing of one’s self for not being able to do what “everyone else” does.  I understand because I know what it’s like.

i, Carla will try.

I will genuinely TRY to keep up with blog posts, therapy days and whatever happens in between. I will try to post “Therapy Vlogs” on my Youtube Channel on a regular basis.  I will not let myself be my own worst enemy.

i, Carla am in transition.

Currently in therapy and working on myself I am in the “transition” phase.  As I am transitioning and transforming so are things around me.  I am currently working on splitting my Youtube channel in 2 aka having 2 channels.  This is so (theoretically) one can be for vlogs and daily life posts (iCarla) and the other for fashion and beauty (iDREAMinVINTAGE).  I am currently working on changing and tweaking things online and offline.  I don’t know what I am doing or where I will end up but I will try.

I want to help and I want to heal.  I want to help other people realize they are not alone in their struggle.  I also want to heal myself.  I feel that in sharing some of my struggle I am not only healing myself but hopefully also helping someone out there to find healing in themselves.

What am I doing? … I have NO IDEA

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Here’s the thing… I do LOVE fashion, makeup, and hair related anything but I am also suffering from Complex PTSD.  This is something I have been trying to sort out how to write about, how to approach writing about it and I came to the conclusion that I’d just dive right into it.

I have Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and I am prone to sleepless nights, panic attacks, and worrying about everything. All. The. Time.  My PSTD is complex because there is not just ONE trauma that affects me but many traumas all on top of each other.

For YEARS I was misdiagnosed as Mild Bi-Polar which never really made a lot of sense to me but at the time, being desperate for an answer,  I just went with it.  I have tried so many antidepressants and anti-anxiety medications – at one point I was taking something in the morning, something in the evening, and I had Ativan “just in case”.  I hated them all, none of them (EXCEPT the Ativan which I  do still use on occasion), helped me at at all.  I was a zombie.  I had no personality.  Nothing mattered.  For me it just wasn’t working and wasn’t worth sacrificing what little part of me I enjoy.  Over the course of 3 years I was on and off more meds then I can remember and one day I just decided enough was enough.  I wanted to regain SOME control over myself.

I ended up just completely stopping taking my medication which I KNOW is not a good idea. I am fully aware that one is supposed to “ween off” of antidepressants and such but in my defence I was to a point where I was forgetting to take my AM pill or my PM pill on a regular basis, I’d miss a day or two routinely so just stopping just kind of happened.  Luckily I didn’t have any issues with going off of medication and I am happy to be off- NOT that medication is bad, it does work for some people just not for me (and I do not recommend my method of just stopping meds).

After going off meds and alerting my doc to my decision, I decided to pursue therapy (again). I had tried therapy before but I never really found anybody I felt comfortable talking to nor did I find it ever helped.  I’d leave my appointments feeling worse then when I went in.  That didn’t seem right.

I began doing some research and I came across a treatment called eye movement and desensitization and reprocessing (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eye_movement_desensitization_and_reprocessing) or EMDR for short.  I did not know much about this treatment but I knew I wanted it.  My search for this treatment led me to the therapist I see now and have been seeing for a few years now.  She is amazing.  I feel comfortable, safe, and not judged when I talk to her (which is how you SHOULD feel in a therapeutic environment).

At the time I first started this round of therapy I still thought I was Bi-Polar.  Not only did I question this diagnosis but eventually so did my therapist.  Over time and through a lot of discussions and activities such as mood charting and other things I won’t get into at the moment (because this blog is long enough ALREADY…), I was re diagnosed as PTSD.  That made a lot more sense.  I didn’t have many of the symptoms of Bi-Polar when it came down to it but I did have EVERY SYMPTOM of someone suffering from PTSD.  Not only was this a huge answer to the big blank I’ve been drawing for years but it also explained why medication did not benefit me.  In taking antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication I was only treating the symptoms of my illness, not the root of the problem.  As irony would have it, the EMDR therapy I so desperately want(ed) is exactly what (I feel) I need.

Currently I am in therapy and I am pursueing/getting EMDR treatment.  I have officially just started reprocessing and feel the need to share/vent about therapy or life in general…. What is my point? What am I doing? I have no idea really but I felt the need to write about it.  I can’t sleep and this is some what productive.  Also, I have been trying to vlog my therapy days and I thought a blog would be a nice piece to add to the puzzle.  I recently had someone comment and thank me because it helps them feel better and it was such an amazing feeling I have been inspired to start trying to write about this.  If I can not only help myself but potentially help other people then its worth more then I thought it could be.

Also please note this is my personal opinion/experience, I am not a professional.

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At this current time (MARCH 2016) I have deleted most of my “Therapy Vlogs” from YouTube as I have decided that for now I would prefer to keep some things off camera (this post was written a few months ago).  I have, however, started this blog in hopes that I can potentially talk about therapy and mental health related topics.  It is something I want to talk about.  I still vlog on occasion but I am trying to focus on making happy vlogs I will want to watch years from now and am not embarrassed to share with friends.  It is all a work in progress.  Let’s see what happens and where I go.