New Dentist

I have new dentist!!

I’ve been in pain for a few days. I had a broken, rotten molar that was giving me headaches and becoming infected.

I don’t have dental coverage under any of my insurance things. Seems dentists around here aren’t quick to help unless you have insurance or cash up front. No one take payments anymore. Even if things are an emergency.

However, I remembered a dentist I’d heard of that helps people in need and I looked him up online. I called. They wanted to make the appointment right away but I asked about cost, etc. I told them my situation and all the money I had for this. The receptionist told me to come in regardless of my circumstances because the doctor was kind.

So I went.

He extracted my tooth without pain. AND he described everything he was doing and what I could expect to hear or feel as he did it. His assistant held my hand and he kept telling me how great I was doing (like I was giving birth to a tooth LOL).

My appointment today should have cost me around $600. They knew I was financially challenged for that kind of payment all at once. They asked what I had.

I had $120 to offer and said I was willing to make payments (something they don’t do). The dentist decided to do my procedure for the $120. Nothing else would be owed because this was an obvious emergency.

I asked them what it would have cost and they came up with a price that was discounted in many ways and the total came to $290. I made a proposition! If I pay the balance of the bill, instead of taking it as a gift, would they work with me to get help for my teeth on my budget.

And they said yes! They told me they don’t usually take payments but they could see my earnest desire to get my tooth health under control. They will continue to offer me the discounted rate they gave me today.

When I go back to pay the balance next week? He’s going to book me an appointment for a full exam, etc.

I suddenly have this amazing dentist and I am so grateful!


Fucking Waiting

I’ve been actively looking for housing. Where I live makes it a challenge (Affordable Housing) but today I did get to see a place I want.

It’s my dream place. A tiny one bedroom cottage nestled in the trees. It’s on an acreage so it is very private and quiet. Has a private driveway. It has a full kitchen and a regular size bathtub (two things on my list). There is sunny patio that has a garden storage area. The garden storage is separate from the other outside storage. It’s this cute cabinet with glass paned doors.



It’s totally in my price range. It’s CLOSER to the pool and the property owner goes to the same aquafit class I attend. She’s 82 and swears like a trucker. “I won’t take any bullshit about rent. It gets paid on time.”

The property manager let me know I was first in line. She was super grateful I brought my proof of income with me (bank statement style proof). I don’t know a lot of people local but, apparently, she knows people I know (she knows them better) who are people I gave as a reference. That was a nice thing to learn over an application, right?

It’s the ideal setting, price and landlord situation. I want this so badly. My heart will break if it doesn’t happen.

Even though it has only been a few hours? The waiting is already killing me. (ie. re-reading my rental resume, every communication I’ve had with her and everything I’ve posted that she has seen or commented on)

Fucking waiting is so hard for someone with anxiety and OCD.


What does struggling look like for me?

I’m fucking couchbound. Not totally, but mostly.

It’s so hard to explain so I am going to use a random example. Metaphoric, sorta.

I wake up each day and make my coffee. I check my Facebook. I sometimes check email but email could mean a message from mom so I also sort of avoid it. However, whatever else, I make that coffee for me. It’s MY beginning.

What about when routine is interrupted? What if someone is in your space during your routine? Even though they are completely capable of making coffee, and often offer, you feel compelled to take care of your morning routine, regardless of who is present.

Because of my variety of mental health issues? All you need to do is put another human in my vicinity and MY routine now involves them.

“Do they need coffee? Am I being too loud if I wake before them? Should I just wait for them before I make coffee? Now that they are awake should I be making more because they offered to?”

How much stress is that before the first cup of the day? All brought on by a dilapidated brain.

That is just one random example. Coffee stress is not my day. But it’s a real life example of how I think. It’s how my brain configures how other people fit into my world.

Do they need my care? Can I give it? Will they still love me when I can’t? Do I need their care? Will it be given?

The emotions behind those questions affect every interaction I have.

Will my grocery clerk understand when I tell her I need to pack my own bags? (OCD) Will my friends understand why I ignore them online? (depression) Will I be able to go to the pool tomorrow or will I get there and too many people in the change room means I leave? (anxiety)

Today I skipped my counselling appointment because I couldn’t bring myself to shower or take off my PJs. I’m going to try to sleep and try again tomorrow. That means going to the pool. I want to. I really do.

But we’ll see what morning brings.



I read a lot online about my health issues, Everything from depression to digestive disorders? I read a lot of blogs from people who are overcoming.

They talk about how the illness affected them, their family and their lifestyle. They are creative in their approach about their personal issues. They not only survive but they take their time to share all of the difficulty. They overcome.

But not all of us overcome.

I read that ‘inspiration’ and struggle so hard to find it. But I don’t.

Some people read the stories and they identify with those who’ve overcome. They become inspired. Others don’t.

Some of us read those ‘overcoming’ stories and it makes us feel like even more of a failure. Some of us never feel like they could inspire anyone to change because they can’t change themselves.

Mine is not a story of overcoming. I struggle. Daily. I’m struggling now. I feel like there will never be a day I overcome.

That’s okay.

Because there are so many more people that struggle instead of overcome. So let’s share that.

I struggle every day with depression and other things. I want to talk about it because I don’t see a day I will be one of those ‘overcomers’. I want to share my journey with strugglers.

Today, I am struggling.


I’m not trying to be silent. I’m struggling. I’m couch bound, re-watching Grey’s Anatomy for the third time marathon style.

I have ten blogs in draft and more in my head but the thoughts race too fast to make sense.

I’m going through some loss of friend stuff. Some Karma stuff that is good but requires mental processing. Some medical stuff. And, well, depression.

I’ll try to post more soon.


Manic Feels Amazing

Aahhhh. The manic set in today. And it feels so good.

Along with my physical disabilities? I battle manic depression, severe social anxiety and OCD.

The OCD isn’t obsessive cleaning or counting or anything over the top. It’s the least of my issues. It’s more about keeping everything in my environment controlled in such a way I can avoid the anxiety and/or depression. OCD doesn’t affect me at all, really.  But it affects anyone trying to live with me. My needing things to be a certain way for bizarre or unexplained reasons. Still, it’s minor.

The anxiety? Well, that’s tough. I set out to do things and retreat at the first sign of confrontation. When there is something I really need and things don’t go the way I hope? I become so overwhelmed I cry. If I face confrontation? I cry. Sometimes I cry from being misunderstood. Crying is MOSTLY how my anxiety comes out. I have also crumbled on the floor of the grocery store, unable to go on because it is too much. My anxiety is my second worse issue.

The manic depression though.

The depression inundates me. I submerge myself in it. Days. Weeks. Months? That has happened often enough. Depression overpowers me. I can talk all I want about making change but it doesn’t happen. I dream about taking care of my home properly. I dream about taking care of myself properly. I ache to get off my couch and be active.

Sooner or later? The manic happens. I wake up one day that starts good and only gets better. Next thing I know? I am in overdrive.

Today was so manic! It was a payday (those are often good days) so I paid all my bills with a bit extra on each. I went grocery shopping and FILLED my freezer. I bought a new heater to help with the chill in my RV. I ran several other miscellaneous errands.

I came home and completely cleaned my living room area. Vacuuming, tidying, etc. I did four loads of laundry, including all the couch cushions and blankets. I cleaned the bedroom area.

Now? I’m in the process of some self love. Dyeing my hair before I have a nice hot shower and make an epic meal. The menu? Steak, stuffed baked potatoes and salad.

I am feeling so much relief about feeling motivated. It feels so GREAT to accomplish so much in one day. I feel compelled to get other things done and I have a plan for doing them tomorrow.

Is manic supposed to feel good? Like accomplishment? I recognize I am manic. I’m tired. My racing thoughts haven’t changed. I just have this spontaneous motivation. I feel if I don’t do EVERYTHING in the next two days while I have my manic energy? They will fall by the wayside again.

And if I fail in accomplishing the other goals? I will get tired and chastise myself for not doing enough. I’ll feel anxiety about it being ‘fake happiness’ that never really amounts to getting things done long term. Then I’ll spiral down into freak out mode. I’ll lose control for a couple days and then I’ll be fine for a while but depressed because it happened again.

This is the first time I have been so clear on the pattern.

How do I break the pattern? How do I focus on those positive steps made in the manic moments? How do I carry the accomplished feeling forward? How do I let the manic accomplishments spur motivation and not anxiety?


I’m not sure what exactly I’m feeling or how to express it. But I’m gonna try.

I asked a question on social media.

 If people want to tear down statues or ban flags because they represent the harm brought on people in the past… when do we start tearing down the churches?

I was surprised at the comment I received. It was from someone who also feels the church has caused harm. Instead of seeing the comparison she chose to use this as an opportunity to call me out as being racist. She educated me about the history of white supremacy. She accused me of posting this in defense of confederate flags, etc.

Truthfully? She has known me a long time. She knew me when I was dating a Nazi. She has seen past things I have posted that may lead someone to believe I am of certain political persuasions. Or a racist.

But I really thought she knew me better. When I explained ‘my point was to get people to see church harm from a different perspective. A comparison. And if we are tearing down representations of years of abuse, we should be including churches’? She conceded on my point.

Here is what really got my goat though. She agreed with me and then proceeded to tell me?

“also, the debate over flags and statues hit its peak six months ago, a more timely/apt comparison may have been, “if they’re going after weinstein and spacey, how about the priests?..” just saying that would have been less confusing. but again, good discussion.”

Are you kidding me? Who is anyone to tell my HOW I should express my own thoughts or opinion? I was so angry. It took me over an hour to come up with this.

Sure, tip top discussion.

Except, I’m having some difficulty being grateful for your constructive criticism on how I should express my own opinion.

If I compared Weinstein and priests? It could be misconstrued to be about people. Or Hollywood and religious privilege combined. Or sex scandals.

My point wasn’t about any of those.

Your idea that I make my opinion relevant would have negated my point.

My point was about recognized representation of institutions that have always abused. I said ‘flag and statues’. YOU added the word confederate. There are other flags and statues that represent abuse. The jesus statue with open arms in a cemetery? Reminding you if you don’t accept him you’ll burn. How about the Christian flag I was forced to swear oath to as a child? Would it make you feel better if I’d clarified all the flags and statues?

I left it vague for a reason! It’s your own pre-disposed ideas about me that made you assume I meant something racist.

So, yes, my reference may feel ‘like, so six months ago’ but it made MY point. And it wasn’t intended to relate to pop media.

I feel like I completely defended myself. And? Without the details? We ended our discussion by agreeing that even though we have our own strong beliefs we still love each other like sisters. The friendship is there 🙂

So why am I dwelling on it right now? Why has it been ruminating through my head? Why have I read the whole diatribe to my BF twice just so I can hear it out loud?

THAT is the feeling I don’t get. That is where I am confused. I’m no longer angry. We don’t agree but I made my point and we still love each other.

So what the fuck is wrong with me that my brain won’t let me move on with some other thought pattern? Can’t I find a way to get through things and let go?

I hate this mental bullshit!


It’s been a long few weeks. My health has been up and down with more than usual anxiety attacks. I’ve spent a lot of time in depression. My RV is coming up with new issues all the time. And, it seems all the same old problems are rearing their heads in my relationship.

I haven’t been writing. Haven’t been on cam or taken any interest in any of my usual interests. I haven’t been eating properly. I’ve been on the couch. At first it was just lack of motivation but in the past week it’s turned to intense sadness that makes me feel hopeless.

And I feel useless. I feel like no matter how much I strive to change I fail constantly. I make my BF miserable (he told me, I’m not just ‘feeling’ that).

I feel scared. Because I know I will never be able to be what he wants. Certain habits are just not going to change (like, I interrupt too much when he is talking) and he doesn’t love me as I am with those habits. I made positive changes in a lot of areas but there are some things that are affected by my health that will never change.  I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t love me as I am. I’m scared when he chooses to leave how it will go down. And I am scared of being alone again.

I feel defeated. Mind and body. I tried to meditate this morning but I couldn’t shut off my mind from racing thoughts. It overwhelmed with frustration so bad I started bawling my eyes out. Every day my body aches. I have an upcoming surgical procedure on the list of pokes and prods that is my life. My body and mind are failing fast.

And I feel lost. I really have no idea what to do.

What IF?

I have so many what if’s. What if I never got fat? What if I decided to go to real college? What if I never chose drugs? What if I could have been real when it mattered?

Over the many years I’ve been ‘studied’ I have been diagnosed with depression, manic/depressive disorder, OCD and I’ve been scoped out for schizophrenia regularly…  Doctors test my blood because they think I have worse diseases.

I don’t.  With every problem I have? Nothing is but my own.

I don’t take big pharma meds for any of it. WHY? Because my digestive health issues make me unable. Those meds would kill other parts that are only barely functional.

I know this. So I try, when I am not couchbound, to get my exercise. I take vitamins and eat healthy. I try to find ways to laugh and smile every day. I try.

Today, while feeling couchbound, I watched a new series on Netflix. Atypical. GREAT show.  But is has me questioning.

I have struggled my entire life with my mental health issues. They were treated with meds to no end. I had surgery that made it I can’t take the meds. Now I just try to survive.

But what if the reason meds don’t help are because I have slight autism? NOT OCD. NOT manic/depressive. What if I am just old enough to miss the mark on being diagnosed and all those big pharma meds made me worse before I stopped taking them for other reasons?

I have other issues related to vaccines.  After I was born? I was taken to a reserve north of Churchill, MB. I got shot with ‘reserve’ vaccines with a dirty needle. Scars to prove it.

What if… just if? What if the fact I am so fucked in the head isn’t just my being born a mental defect? Maybe some is from the Agent Orange my father got in the Vietnam war? Maybe some of it is vaccines?

My mom went through German measles with me and was told I would be born without limbs. She was told to abort me. And to be truthful? I don’t think she ever wanted children. I’m glad she allowed me to survive.

I have never been wanted by this world.

Just what if? Because, I have survived all that. Started out not getting aborted. Survived bad vaxxing with battle scars. Made it through so much abuse. I LIVE with my ‘dis’abilities and make it every fucking day!

I’ve been accused of being so many things. Terrorist, Crazy. Slut.

But what IF I am just a survivor?


I’ve been doing more and more shopping online these days. I don’t like malls. I don’t like crowds. I don’t like shopping.

Unless it is for groceries. There is something about feeding people and being able to sustain my home with food that I find settling.  Psychiatrists may attribute that to my past issues with food. I choose to believe it is because I care that no person goes hungry on my watch.

So why did I go shopping yesterday? Not just shopping, I got on a bus and went to the city to a mall during ‘back to fucking school’ season. What was I thinking?

Once in a while? I want the experience. It’s like going to the theatre instead of watching Netflix. It’s the smell of the food court, the overhearing banter of store clerks who aren’t aware you are listening, trying on things you could never afford but feel so amazing on your skin and going home smelling like your favourite high end department store perfume because you walked past the counter and squirted it on yourself.

I love the experience. However anxiety can be cruel.

I maintained focus and an ability to be pleasant to everyone I encountered while I was getting what I went for. I was in my own head space and having fun. Smiling. Dare I say? Happy.

But, as soon as I was done getting what I wanted? I realized it was hours before the bus was coming and I began to panic. The mall filled with more people. Noise. Bumping n touching me. Kids screaming, parents yelling their chastisements. So much mental clutter.

I sat on a bench to get away from the bumping n touching. I plugged my ears for a moment to regain a sense of composure. And as I was breathing deeply I got a text.

He was done work and if I wanted he could pick me up at the mall.

Like a knight in not so shining, navy Volvo he was there in twenty minutes to get me. He listened patiently while I babbled about being anxious and grateful he came. He listened even more patiently as I detailed my excursions into various stores and what I saw, tried on, bought, left behind….  blah, blah fucking blah.

It was about six months since I was last at a mall. I lasted two and a half hours, got what I wanted but totally skipped Walmart (for things I could have shopped for but didn’t have the patience). I was almost in full blown panic when I got rescued.

I really think I’m gonna stick to shopping online.

But does that mean I am avoiding? Am I running from my issues instead of facing them?

I feel like I tried to do the outside thing and failed. Mentally anyway. I actually did go and get things I couldn’t get online and knew where I could get them. That isn’t a fail.

But I failed in the end. Not even able to wait for a bus. Sitting cross-legged on a mall bench with my ears covered and eyes closed? Doesn’t feel like a win to me.