A Complete Disaster

way I need you.

I wish people would stop

That's what it feels like. My entire life I've felt like I've been carrying the heavy burdens of others and as I grew and turned to therapy I was told I actually do carry other people's burdens. I hold them so close to me that they start eating away at me. Crawling into my thoughts during my two AM restlessness.

I was told it's because I care too much

I love too much.

I do.

I rarely think of myself and take on others issues to cover up the fact that I am in a constant struggle. Drowning in my own problems and anxious manifestations.

Now everyone expects things of me.

They expect me to care for their wounds

They expect me to wipe their tears

They expect me to be there for them

They expect everything.

I have always thrown my feelings on the back burner but not anymore.

Now I will try and tow the scary tightrope that is caring for others and also remembering to care for myself.

To put myself first sometimes.

To allow myself to get angry when I feel like people won't stop taking from me and refuse to contribute back.

I will allow myself to love and be loved in return and to know when a relationship is healthy and when it's time to step away.

I'm tired.

Honestly I think if I was to write out how I was feeling right now, I wouldn't be able to stop crying.

I missed you.

But I didn't miss the part of you that treats me like this.

I have feelings too.

Anxiety. PTSD. Depression. Repeat. Anxiety. PTSD. Depression. Repeat. Anxiety. PTSD. Depression. Repeat. Anxiety. PTSD. Depression. Repeat. Anxiety. PTSD. Depression. Repeat. Anxiety. PTSD. Depression. Repeat.

It’s been like this for weeks. Maybe it’s the Holidays. Maybe it’s everything swirling around me that’s making me feel like I am drowning. I’m unsure and unsteady and I have started having problems sleeping. I watch the clock as soon as the sky starts to turn dark. I count the hours laying around my house at night. Eight Hours till dawn. 7 Hours. 6. I force myself to stay awake because of the growing anxiety that rests inside of my brain and my chest. The one that tells me that I am just going to toss and turn all night from the awful things that I have to see when I shut my eyes. I need to go back to therapy. Fuck this pandemic. I am feeling to many raw emotions that I feel like I’m about to burst at the seams. I can only hold myself together for so long. 

my entire life it has felt like a revolving door.

a door for people to walk through and come into my safe places of my mind and root around for as long as they please before scurrying out of there when they realize that what is inside my mind is not worth it.

I'm not worth it.

I wish I could hold my younger self. Tell her it'll be alright and that when you get older you'll build your walls so tall that no one would dare to scale them.

I wish I could tell her that boy that she loves, will never think of her as anything but a warm body to keep him company at night so his brain will stay quiet for just a minute because his home life is so tumultuous that he cannot stand to be there for one more second so he runs to someone. Anyone. Hoping that they could stitch the holes in his heart but they're so deep you will get swallowed in.

I wish I could hold her and tell her to run.

Just to run as fast as you can until you cannot run anymore.

Because when you get older, that boy will come back. He will make you feel as small as you used to. He will tear down those walls and root through you so carelessly that you will feel as empty as he does.

And he will blame you.

And he will retreat to his life like you never even existed because that's an easier thought to handle then I fucked up and I hurt her.

You will collect the pieces like you've been taught.

You will have to be okay even though you're not.

But you will get up and dust yourself off because you will not let yourself become as empty and hollow as that man who cannot love.

Dear Family,

I don't know how to bein this letter. These past few weeks have been weighing heavy on my heart. After seeing all the death, the protests and injustices happen in this country and to see some of you have the absolute audacity to speak about these injustices like this is some sort of joke is beyond me. This isn't about politics or what party you belong to. To be honest, I could give less of a fuck. This is about us. Our family. To see some of the things that people I call my family have been posting, making fun of protesters, calling black people "them" and even making a bigger deal about how we cannot go outside but people can protest.

I don’t know. I’ve been trying to get my life back on track since January. It’s now March and I feel like I have made no progress. Everyone says I’m doing great but in all honesty, I don’t see it. I’ve been trying to get on a new medication but my appointments keep getting pushed back (Out of my Control) and things keep getting in the way and I honestly feel like I’ve been screaming for professional help and my doctor isn’t hearing me. 

It’s beyond frustrating. I have a need to heal my brain but no one else can see it or feel what I feel. People tell me to take a deep breath. To calm down but how can you tell me to do that if you aren’t in my body. 

How does no one feel the urgency I feel?

I feel like I am losing my life to my brain. How can I do the things I want to do when my brain is keeping me from doing these things? It is not fair. I feel cheated and I’m angry and I’m tired. Anxiety, Depression, PTSD. That is what my day revolves around. That is what my emotions are. That is what I wake up to deal with and go to bed dealing with. It is every single minute and every hour of my day. It is beyond exhausting and I just want to heal.

I just want my life back already. 

I have therapy on Wednesday. I can’t wait to get back on my track of healing. 

When I married you, I didn't think that I could possibly love you more then I already do. But every single day you surprise me and my love for you grows and grows. I don't know how I got so lucky to have such a compassionate, kind and loving human being to call my husband. I know these past 3 months of marriage haven't exactly been a walk in the park. I know there are many sleepless nights of crying and you trying your best to calm me. I know there are plenty of days when I'm so angry, I scream and yell in frustration at my brain. I know I'm not the easiest person to love. I know when we met you didn't see how broken I was and the challenges we would have to face together these past 7 years. I just wanted to say thank you for loving me. I know I say I'm sorry a lot. I know you always tell me that I shouldn't be sorry and that well get through this and that you love me. I just wanted to say thank you for making me feel so loved every single second of the day. For coming to therapy with me. For bringing me to doctor's appointments. For driving down to Woodbridge to get my medicine with me. For being so kind and letting me heal in the best ways I can. For seeing all my scars from my past and loving me still. You are the absolute love of my life. Thank you for being the sweet, gentle and kind human you are.

I will love you forever.

Love,

Hello human who has chosen to read this.

Here I am again. Still struggling. Still a mess but trying to deal and trying to cope. Two weeks ago this Friday I woke up and I went to the hospital. I did it. I hit rock bottom.

Let's start at the beginning so everyone can understand:

This is difficult for me to discuss but I spoke with my therapist and she seems to think and I agree that writing out my feelings is definitely something I should be doing.

For years I have been struggling with a childhood trauma. One day maybe I'll speak openly about it but today's not that day. I knew that this was a growing problem but you know talking about something that people refer to as, "trauma" isn't that easy to talk about. When I say it was a growing problem for me, I mean it was something that I dealt with every day but in secret. If I felt like I was starting to relive that trauma, I would go to the bathroom, walk outside, go to my room,etc and then I would try and pull myself together. I'd be emotional but eventually I was able to calm myself. Now of you're reading this and thinking, "What the fuck." Then I'm there with you. Obviously not a healthy thing to do.

It all came to a tipping point a couple of weeks ago. I was online and I saw a trigger. Something that triggered me so badly that made me go into a now what I know is a flashback. To make it plain and simple and to not scare anyone, I don't remember about 2 hours of my life. For those 2 hours, I was reliving my trauma over and over again. When I snapped out of it, I told Alex I needed to go to the hospital.

It was now 1 am. It was snowing and Alex was fearful of driving in those conditions. I don't blame him. The next morning Alex was bringing me to work and I lost it. I wanted to go to the hospital. Why? Cause I couldn't deal with my brain anymore. I didn't want to deal with seeing my trauma every second of my day and having to relive that over and over again.

I went to the hospital.

Here's who came with me:

Alex, My mom, My Mother in Law and my Grandma

I met with a counselor, I talked to her for 2 hours. She asked me if I wanted to kill myself, if I wanted to hurt myself, if I have ever attempted any of those things and I told her the truth. I have never in my life wanted to take myself away from my family. If I have ever felt those thoughts creep into my head I immediately have contacted someone and let them know and they would bring me to a doctor. I don't want to die, I'm just tired of dealing with my trauma and I am scared. Please help me.

And here I am now.

The woman at the hospital gave me paper on PTSD. I am trying to wrap my head around that still.

I still relive my trauma every single day. I am still tired. I am still trying to cope with seeing that by seeing a therapist twice a week.

I'm going to talk about my trauma, deal with it, face it head on and try to heal.

It's going to be difficult. It's not going to happen over night. It's going to take a long time but I know that one day I will feel better.

For those of you still reading this and are feeling worried about me, don't worry, I'm worried about me too but I can assure you I am in the very capable hands of my husband, my family, my doctor's and my therapist.

So there it is. The year 2019 is the year that I hit rock bottom and it is only January. I asked my therapist why I feel the need to explain my diagnoses with every one. Why I feel the need to talk about my anxiety, depression and now PTSD. She told me that I need to educate everyone so that they understand. So that they're not worried if they see me at a family party and see me behaving weirdly. That they know I'm dealing with things and that I am not okay now but I will be eventually.

So family. I'm not okay. Just struggling to find my way but I'll get back eventually, for now it's time for me to focus on healing and coping with my reality.

Thank you for reading.

If you know me, I’m always talking about wanting a tiny human. I am the oldest of six. I’ve been surrounded by babies my entire life. I’m a Teacher’s Assistant at a Pre-School. Needless to say, I love kids.

All I ever wanted was to have my own tiny human and no this is not a pregnancy announcement. 

This is me talking about something that I have honestly been truly struggling with for a couple months now. I have this fear and honestly I don’t think it’s an irrational fear at all. I’m scared I’m not going to be able to have a tiny human of my own.

My anxiety has ruled my life for a while now and I think about the future a lot. About what is out there waiting for Alex and I. Right now where I am, there is a 0% chance that I am going to have a baby because I am struggling a lot. I can barely function some mornings, let enough go to the doctor without someone forcing me into a car and holding my hand through the entire thing. 

I never really said it out loud before but I guess it had been bubbling up for awhile when I finally expressed my concerns to Alex. He didn’t say it but I know he’s kind of scared too.

 I’m trying my best to get this under control.

Starting therapy, trying new coping mechanisms, voicing my concerns to other people, getting advice, drawing my feelings out, taking deep breaths, meditating, taking CBD oil, trying new medications, writing out my feelings.

I just need to write this out so I know for myself and when the day comes when I’m holding a little baby in my arms, I know that all of this was worth it. It’s been hard, I cry a lot. I’m really scared but I just want to get better because I will not let my anxiety take away the one thing I’ve wanted for my entire life. To be a mom. 

And I know what some people are going to say:

You just got married! You have so much time before you start thinking about a baby! Enjoy your time with your husband! Travel! Babies are difficult! They keep you up! You’ll never sleep again!

I hear you and I get it. It’s not about wanting a baby now. I say I want a baby so much because I’m scared I’ll never be able to have one. I constantly think about what would happen if I got pregnant. How much stress I have and how that would effect the baby. How even after the baby was born, how I might react to things. 

I don’t know what the point of this is. Maybe to ramble on and make myself feel better. Maybe to look back on and think that was a silly thing to think about. I don’t know. 

These past 14 days have been a struggle for me. Not a lot of people know what goes on in my life but I want someone to read this and know that if you're going through something like this you're not alone.

For some reason it all came down to these past 14 days. It started slow. My anxiety creeping in. Nothing new just the same old shit I deal with. Anxious about getting in the car, about getting out of bed not knowing what the day held for me. The days came and went and it got worse and worse. I think my husband knew it was different too.

Then came the day where I refused to get up out of bed. My anxiety and depression don't really come out together but when they do, oh man am I in trouble.

I know now that it wasn't the end for me but in that moment it felt like I couldn't go on. And I know that sounds scary to a lot of people but really it's how I felt. I couldn't get up and go because what was the point anymore? Dealing with my anxiety seemed hopeless. Why would I want to get up and struggle everyday when I could just lay in bed and cry.

I knew it got to a point where I needed to call in reenforcement when I looked at my husband and he looked scared. I was scared too. I couldn't stop crying . I cried for 5 hours one day and I couldn't stop. I told Alex I was just so tired. I couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't get up and struggle because I was just getting nowhere. I think I know deep down this won't ever go away for me. It was scary to think about. I couldn't do new medication and deal with the side effects. I couldn't do therapy sessions because I can't dig up every single corner of my childhood to find where this anxiety started. I can't do that to myself. I'm afraid I'll never come back from some of those places I left behind.

I think it was my mom who finally knocked some sense into me. That I couldn't leave behind my family. That I had to look around. At their faces and think about how many people love me and how hard it is to see me like that.

I wasn't okay. I'm still not 100 percent but I'm trying new coping methods. I'm trying some new things. I'm feeling so much better.

I haven't had a dark time like that in 2 years. That's called growth. While you're dealing with all of that depression and anxiety you don't see a light at the end of the tunnel. You see the people you're hurting. The people you would leave behind if you stayed in bed everyday. I can't do that to them. I can't do that to me. I'm okay. I'm talking to people and voicing my thoughts and my concerns about my mental health so don't worry I'm not going anywhere.

My brain isn’t working. It’s being irrational and having temper tantrums ever 20 minutes. I feel like I’m at a point in my life where I just want to give into my anxiety. I’ve tried almost everything to try and get a grip on my senses but it isn’t working. Drug after drug after drug. The constant pit in my stomach. It’s honestly exhausting. 

People tell me they’re proud of me for doing what I do every day. But honestly some days I feel so ashamed of myself. I don’t know how I got to this point in my life but I’m here and I hate it. Trying to describe what goes on in my head every single moment is really just difficult. There is not always a reason for why I feel like this. 

I want people to understand me but some days I don’t even understand me. 

I’m struggling right now. I’m trying to find my footing again but that’s okay. I’ll get back to my normal program soon. 

If you’re here in my life and you’re trying to understand what’s going on.. don’t.

I don’t even know whats going on with me but if you’re here and you’re trying to understand me and my crazy brain then thank you for being so patient with me and for caring so much that you want to try and understand every little nook and cranny in my brain. 

Today is a little better then yesterday and all I can say is:

If you’re reading this Dad I just want you to know I love you and that I’m struggling with the fact that we don’t talk.

I don’t even know where to start because I’m angry and I don’t want this to come off as me typing out a hate letter to you because this is not what this is. I just have a lot of feelings pent up and I need to just set them free so I can move on.

 I got married. You didn’t call. I bought a house. I get silence. I got a dog, three stray cats and a hedgehog and you will never meet them. You will never step foot inside my house. You will never be at my wedding. I’m hurting. I am struggling. I saw that you got married and I cried for a week. I saw the pictures and thought to myself, “How did we get to this point? Did anyone ask about your kids? What did you say to them?” 

I don’t know what to do with myself, how to even start comprehending that this is the state of our relationship. How did we get here? Was it you? Was it me? Was it both of us? 

I don't know where to start. This past week has been very overwhelming for me in a lot of ways and it really has fucked me up. I don't like admitting that im not okay to loads of people but at the beginning of this week I wasn't okay. Recently the past couple of months have been really hard on me so I'm just going to rant here and hopefully I can walk away from this feeling a little bit lighter.

I openly joke all the time and say, "I can't I have anxiety" or "Anxiety is killing me." I say these things because saying them in a joking manner takes away from the fact that this is my fucking life. I hate it. I hate having to think about who's going to drive me in a car or will I embarrass myself in public because I'm having a panic attack. That's how my brain works. It fucking sucks.

No one knows what I go through on a daily basis and I'm not saying that to be like, "oh poor me. Look at me. Feel bad for me." I'm saying it because the only human on this planet that sees me in the good, the bad, the ugly moments is Alex.

These past few months there has been a lot going on in my personal life and it's not all bad things. I think that's what's throwing me off so badly is that I have all these great milestones coming up for me and I can't get excited about them. I don't know what it is. Everytime something bad happens someone says to me, " Look around you at all this great stuff that's happening and look forward to that!" And I physically cannot. I get a pit in my stomach and I get nervous for the fact that I hope I can do that. I hope I can be okay. I hope that my anxiety won't be so crippiling that I can get out of bed that day.

I have this process. I've had it for years.

I wake up in the morning

I try and see how I'm feeling

If my anxiety is bad I lay in bed and try and calm down, if that doesn't work I'll take my medicine.

Sometimes I try and go through the days and not take my medicine at all. Sometimes that's a bad idea.

I get up and usually can't eat breakfast cause I'm too nervous (about what? No idea. It beats me)

I try and start my day by thinking how many times will I have to travel in a car, will I be okay?

Will I have to do something that's out of my comfort zone

I cant explain my anxiety and get everyone to understand what I deal with everyday but I can say this. I am not the same person I was in high school. This new person that I am deals with shit everyday that "normal" people don't deal with. I struggle to get in a car, to eat food in front of specific people, I can't sit for a long period of time, I can't make eye contact with a person for too long and sometimes I panic. Doing this everyday since I've graduated high school, changed me. I don't do the things that everyone my age does. I don't act the same. That's not me anymore and sometimes I feel sad about it but you know what. This isn't a pitty party for me and this isn't to make excuses about my behavior. This is about who I am.

Anxiety is a part of me. Not everyone understands it. Not everyone likes it. There's nothing I can do about it. It changed how I act, how I process things, how I deal with my entire life and if you have stayed and loved me then thank you.

If you left and you're fed up. I understand. I get it but I'm not going to apologize for who I am anymore. I have to take the good with the bad everyday when I wake up and if you don't like that then who am I to try and beg you to stay and to deal with my confusing emotions. I understand.

This week has been shit. I'm not going to sit here and lie but at the end of the day I am forever grateful to everyone who's been so great and patient with me and understanding. I know I'm difficult. I get that but thank you.

Dear Mom,

I just wanted to take this brief moment to explain to you and whoever decides to read this, what you have taught me in my 24 years on this Earth and why, in my opinion, I got the best mom.

1. You tell me sometimes that you know you've made mistakes raising me and I just wanted to put an end to that debate. Over my 24 years of life, you have overcome obstacles with such ease and grace, it amazes me. You are one of the strongest women I have ever known in my life and I am grateful that you have raised me to be a strong woman and continue to raise my two sisters to be strong women as well. Yeah okay, you went through some tough times and you doubted yourself and your ability to be strong, but guess what. You're here. You're standing. I'm here. I'm alive. Whatever mistakes you think you made in raising me have just been examples of how you have risen above the bullshit and stayed strong and did what you thought was right for your family and for that, I thank you.

2. My mom's a fucking vampire. She doesn't age. I get those awesome genes because of her.

3. My mom is one of my best friends. I talk to my mom everyday on the phone. To tell her about my day, to listen to her about her day. I told Alex that no matter where we go, I cant be away from my mom because I need to be able to just drop by uninvited when I miss her. I am so thankful we have such a great relationship. I am so grateful to have you.

4. My mother has been the rock of our family since there was only 3 of us. You have been the only constant in my life since I was a baby. Thank you for being so strong and raising us three monsters and for raising the next three crazies

5. As I've gotten older, I've come to realize that you are not just mom. Before me, you had your own life and now you put your kids before anything. I know I'm going to know what that's like when I have kids of my own but that will forever amaze me.

So in conclusion, you are my version of superwoman. You have raised 6 beautiful children and not to brag but we're all pretty great. My only hope for you this mother's day is that you realize no matter if we get upset with you or if we get mad at you, you are the best mom any of us could've ever hoped for. You've given us the best life no matter what circumstances we were in and that says everything. Thank you Mom for all that you do and continue to do for me. I love you and happy mother's day.

Love always,

Hello Internet,

I welcome you all back into one of my many very personal post about my (not so) private life. It’s been one year since I’ve blogged about my anxiety so I’m here to give you a life update.

I’ve been working at my job for a year now. I know. Desiray can actually hold a job for one whole year. Ha Ha.

 My anxiety when I started my job honestly felt unmanageable. I felt sick all the time and I started having some trouble but as I got more comfortable there, my anxiety started to subside which was great. I finally fell into a routine with everything going on in my life and my now fiancee and I adopted a puppy. Who surprisingly has anxiety (go figure). This year has gone by with its normal ups and downs and my anxiety had finally stepped back because it was my turn to navigate through all of life’s bullshit without feeling anxious about every single decision I made.

As I was living my life and making changes, my anxiety was always in the back of my mind. I have this really big fear that my anxiety will take over my life again. For those of you who don’t know, there was a period of time in my life where my anxiety was so crippling that I couldn’t leave my house. It was difficult to say the least but I always have this fear that I will let my anxiety control my life like that again. Now that Alex and I are getting married, this fear is more prevalent. 

Recently, my anxiety has reared its ugly head. Not a lot of people know the extent of my anxiety struggles. There are a lot of panic attacks and feeling sick.

 I have this thing about anxiety medication and anti depressants. I am all for them if they help you. Honestly I get it, I do. They’re just not for me. Every single time I have been on medication (which is a lot) has been the fucking worst. I think it’s the fact that they make me feel worse. Whether it be they make my depression more intense or I just feel like I’m constantly walking through a fog. I hate it. I don’t ever want to feel like I can’t feel anything all the time or I can’t be myself. So going to the doctor and asking her for medication is usually my last resort. Now that I’m working I can’t be feeling anxious all the time. My job doesn’t allow me to be alone when I feel like I need to calm myself down or I need to have a mini breakdown in the bathroom. So I went to the doctor. 

Seriously. I went there yesterday and I told her about my predicament. Now let me tell you, the first time I met this lady, I had 5 people ( my entourage) follow me into her waiting room and I was sobbing. I was sobbing loudly. I feel like she saw me and thought to herself, “Well what the fuck.” She asked me three times what my age was. THREE TIMES. She understood though. She’s such a lovely lady. So I went to see her yesterday and I’m sitting in the waiting room with Alex. Internally screaming and squirming in the chair when she comes out and says to me, “Is Desiray ready for me? I know she’s dealing with some stuff.” The receptionist quietly says that there is a man before me and my doctor says to her, “This will be quick! She needs me!” Honestly this woman is an angel. So I step on the scale and she asks me what the problem is. I respond, “LIfe is the problem” and walk into the exam room (I am very dramatic). We discussed my problem and she told me she understands what I’m going through. The panic attacks at night, the feeling of being anxious and just existing in general. We decided on a medication I can take only when needed. So i got a prescription which is sitting in my purse. 

I don’t know how to deal with life but I do know I want to be able to live every second of it. No matter what it takes. So here I am, an anxious mess typing away and just here to tell you that even though it doesn’t look like it, I’m struggling. I struggle everyday to just be able to do normal things but I do it. I’m not going to be that human that hides away under her blankets and sobs while she watches the ending of the Office everyday with no job or no idea how she’s going to face the next day. I’m going to be the human that sits in her living room and sobs while she watches the ending of the Office everyday with a job and kind of an idea how she’s going to face the next day. If this medication helps me and I can be a functioning human bean (I know it’s being) and still be my crazy obnoxious self then so be it. I just know I’m not giving up hope just yet.