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real talk about my last relationship

I was in a relationship with a cis guy for almost two years who was, at the beginning, really good and wonderful. But I realize more and more these days how damaging that relationship became.

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Today has been a particularly hard day. There are lots of hard days. It never means they don’t have goodness or beauty in them.

I am only physically capable of playing a single video game: Aqua Aqua. It’s this cute little game where you get a chunk of land, and then parts of land or water slowly drop down as you place them, and you have to keep all of your water inside your chunk of land. Little raindrop people run around and make cute squeaky noises. If you don’t keep that water contained, a little guy to the side in a tube will choke and drown as the tube fills with the water that has spilled.

I feel like the little guy in the tube a lot of the time. I feel like I have this looming cloud bulging with responsibilities and to do lists. Find a psychiatrist. Pay for psychiatrist. Change your name before you find a psychiatrist. Prove to the hospital that you can’t pay a $2,500 medical bill. Make payments on the other one. Find a way to pay rent. Get enough sleep for class. Don’t get frustrated about not being able to sleep for two days.I feel like this balloon of water is about to shatter over my head.

But it doesn’t. It doesn’t shatter, and I’m not drowning. On the worst days, when I leave my job feeling defeated, or I have to face a professor in class when I know I haven’t been able to complete work, or when another unexpected medical bill arrives in the mail, or my old credit card company tries to tell me I owe them money (I don’t), or when I think my phone is broken…

…I find myself, usually, reaching a moment of gratitude. This is perspective gained that is new to me. I could never before pull myself so far out of my own inner storm, and look down at it’s power and beauty. After a nap and some coconut water, I was overwhelmed not only with how overwhelming my life is in general (can you believe my life, I mean really), but how grateful I am that it is mine.

Sure, I could have majored in Fine Arts like my parents wanted me to, and worked as a waitress, like I had right out of high school. But I didn’t. And there are reasons for that that run as deeply and has integral to me as my own blood does. I began working in personal care services, for the developmentally disabled, and then the elderly. I chose a major where I can continually answer my childhood question of “why,” and then my adolescent question of, “how do I make this better?”

And now? I’m twenty-three. I’m alive. I’m the administrative manager of a reproductive health clinic. I’m a Gender Studies major, which means I’m essentially very well trained to wreak havoc on bullshit in our society. I have access to the medication I need to take, and I do well on the treatment I’m following. I’m bipolar. These days, I can’t help but feel that it can be kind of cool. I have two adorable ferrets that I literally want to eat alive they are so precious and cute - BUT I’m vegan, which is something I care so much about, and I’m grateful to have the ability to commit to that.

My greatest aspiration when I was a teenager was to be homeless. Considering I’d lived in many shelters, I’m not so sure why. I just wanted to have as little as possible, and devote all sense of meaning in my life to simply people and experiences. I’m not homeless - no yet, haha - but I feel like that’s exactly where I’ve found myself. I live my life with meaning. I work somewhere that challenges me in ways I could never have imagined, but is a space where I feel I get to impact others’ lives in such a positive way, not simply shelving boxes on a shelf every day. I’m incredibly lucky to have had that opportunity come my way. I get to spend my time studying and learning about people - their histories, struggles, identities. I get to share the experience of living together with people I care so very much about. I’m part of a community that is supportive and strives towards love and justice and general tomfoolery.

Gratitude is what I’m usually left with at the end of the day.



the first person i ever smoked pot with was this kid named Eric. he and I had lived together when I was fresh out of high school. we loved each other a lot. we’ll probably always be those people in this gray area between friends and lovers who know unequivocally that they should not be together. after we lived together we broke up and i moved out to live in my college town, but we were off and on for the next couple of years.

during one of those on times, we made a huge fort in his bedroom and strung it up with christmas lights and listened to aphex twin. this is how i wanted my first experience of smoking pot to be - comfortable, safe, pretty. he filled the bong with sprite instead of water and put ice cubes in the tube (or whatever that thing is called) - this was supposed to make it easier to breathe in. i, of course, had to hold my head out of the window and try not to puke after one hit, because asthma, and i was either too dumb or just hoping for the best anyway to acknowledge that i would possibly choke and die from breathing in pure smoke. i just remember how gentle and kind and affectionate that experience was, and how much our togetherness was always like that. i’ve had a lot of experiences with boys where i was pushed into doing things i didn’t really want to do, wasn’t ready to do, or thought i had to do because if i didn’t something was wrong with me. this kid was really into smoking, but i hadn’t been interested until this point. he never asked me to - i asked him. and it’s just a really wonderful thing to remember, to be respected and cared for in a way like that.

my point is, this kid. with a lot of reflection, i realize this young, dumb, silly and simple kind of love and affection is really probably the best. all of my best memories. this kid, probably the only one who ever really, truly loved me back. sometimes i think i’ve probably lived out all of my best love stories already, and it doesn’t even make me all that sad.


So cute!


So cute!


clean bathroom tips
organize your closet
how to fix a leaky faucet
how to keep a clean kitchen
removing stains from your carpet
how to coupon
what to do when you can’t pay your bills
see if you’re paying too much for your cell phone bill
how to save money
How to Balance a Check Book
How to do Your Own Taxes
how to take care of yourself when you’re sick
things to bring to a doctor’s appointment
what to expect from your first gynecologist appointment
how to make a doctor’s appointment
how to pick a health insurance plan
a list of stress relievers
how to get free therapy

how to remove a splinter

how to avoid a hangover

what to do if you get pulled over by a cop
a list of hotlines in a crisis
things to keep in your car in case of an emergency

how to do the heimlich maneuver

recipes that take 30 minutes or less
Yummy apple thing
Brownie in a cup
Cookie in a cup
French bread pizza
Egg tacos
panera mac n cheese recipe
different salad recipes
harry potter recipes
healthy recipes
various cookie recipes
chocolate cupcakes w/ eggless cookie dough topping
s’mores pie 
nutella hot chocolate
peanut butter nutella swirl cookies
cookie in a mug
starbucks holiday drinks
fruit leathers 
brownie in a mug
how to make ramen 1000x better
eggless cookie dough (not to bake, just to eat)
make recipes using things you already have
how to put together a very fancy cheese plate 
make different flavored lemonades
various desert recipes
make tiny chocolate chip cookies
20 dishes every cook should know
learn how to make your own tea
Macaroni and cheese in a mug
Study snacks (2)
40 on-the-go breakfast recipes
what the hell is a mortgage?
first apartment essentials checklist
how to care for cacti and succulents
the care and keeping of plants 
Getting an apartment
time management
create a resume
find the right career
how to pick a major

how to avoid a hangover

how to interview for a job

how to stop procrastinating

How to write cover letters
Traveling for Cheap 
Travel Accessories
The Best Way to Pack a Suitcase
How To Read A Map
How to Apply For A Passport
How to Make A Travel Budget
Better You
read the news
leave your childhood traumas behind
how to quit smoking

how to get a book published

how to knit

how to use a polaroid camera

how to solve a rubik’s cube

how to stop biting your nails

how to stop procrastinating

how to stop skipping breakfast

how to stop micromanaging

how to stop avoiding asking for help

how to stop swearing constantly

how to stop being a pushover

learn another language
how to improve your self-esteem
how to sew
learn how to embroider
how to love yourself
learn how to do yoga
100 tips for life
learn how to make your own cards










Better You



(Source: janelame)



you should check out #AcademicAbleism on twitter, if you haven’t already. 

that dyslexia 1 hit me hard.



Klonopin and Co.

Klonopin and I have a very frenemy kind of relationship. I hate taking it, but sometimes I need to. After being exhausted and trying to sleep for about an hour last night, but being kept awake by racing thoughts, I gave into the fact that, yes, I need to take something for the anxiety. I’d already tried reading, stretching, and breathing. No dice. Klonopin it is. It was 3 am.

Here’s the thing: I never know how taking it’s really gonna go down, because I’m almost never at a baseline. See, when you just take it for anxiety, but don’t have other things going on, you can judge pretty well how it will effect you. You have a pretty good sense of control.

But my brain chemistry is always firing differently, so it’s hard to know.

Last night was fucking crazy. I took klonopin, and it’s good that I did, but it didn’t calm me down. I didn’t realize that what was happening last night was the cusp of hypomania. I literally thought I was having an allergic reaction: my heart started pounding, my mind started racing with thoughts and ideas, my body temperature rose and I began getting really restless. I was suddenly wide awake. This was wrong. This didn’t make sense. By now it was 4 am.

I slept for two hours last night, and I was lucky to get that much. Sometimes I have to force sleep. I’ve tried to get my sleep schedule on a regular pattern, but it’s pretty much impossible. I’ve come to just accept that I need to learn to roll with this. That means, sometimes, I won’t sleep. It also means that it’s not helpful for me to try to hold out on sleeping until night, because it won’t work. It won’t make my sleeping patterns stabilize. It just makes me more exhausted.

I’ve been tracking my sleep patterns for awhile now. On average, I sleep about 5 hours a day. About once or twice a week I won’t sleep at all, and this will happen for a couple weeks and then I’ll float back down to some kind of baseline, or maybe just below it for awhile. And up. And down. Over and over.

It’s really annoying, and exhausting, to begin to be able to feel these nuances and not really be able to control it very well. I’m trying to learn how to use these moments to my advantage: to keep my mind as clear as possible, harness the energy into productive things but not spread myself too thin or get too carried away so I won’t get incredibly irritable, paranoid, and angry as I come swiftly back down into a normal or slightly depressed state. I try not to let myself talk too much to others, to avoid rapid speech that seems to carry itself on its own like a snowball picking up speed. I give myself time limits on projects. I give myself time limits with people. I give myself goals for doing things that I need and that I want. I track my moods, my sleep patterns.

It’s a lot of stuff, right? But it IS starting to feel more just like part of my routine and not this huge heavy thing anymore. It’s hard to cope with the unpredictability all the time, and then the other side of the coin - the sense of just pure emptiness that comes with no longer experiencing the extreme highs and lows anymore. It’s all very strange. Still. Maybe forever.

I guess I just had a lot I needed to say about stuff lately. This is such a hodgepodge of everything. I’ll try to have it be more streamlined and make more sense in the future.

ohheythere! i’ve decided i’m going to have a million blogs. so you’re welcome.

i just need a space to talk about my bipolar stuff, and i also need a space that has nothing to fucking do with my bipolar stuff.

so, if you don’t want to hear about bipolar/mental health stuff all the time, please unfollow this blog - and I truly mean it, please unfollow it, I will not be offended at all. we can’t carry everyone else’s burdens all the time, sometimes the ones we already have are heavy enough.



my aunt Michaelle is so kawaii

my aunt Michaelle is so kawaii