episode thirty-four // tale of two cities

Dakota and Daisy took me out to a bar in the city last night. But, to be honest, it was not the city I was familiar with. This was the East end where gentrification had taken hold and the realities of what was happening just three blocks over were ignored. I’m not going to lie, after what had happened earlier in the day, I felt guilty to be enjoying an overpriced sangria slushee on a random Thursday night in a place 75% of the population of the city could not enjoy.

Yesterday at work a patient pushed his way into the nurses station and assaulted at least seven members of our team. It happened in under 20 seconds but it felt like a lifetime from watching the initial intimidating jump to pressing my panic alarm to fumbling with my keys trying to get to my coworkers to help. It turned into a crowd of people at the door and he just was wailing on them from above. It was terrifying and I felt helpless but eventually, because of the shear amount of people pushing from one side, he ended up back in the patient area and security was on their way. I realized hours later that from the window cutout in the hallway I was rounding on I witnessed the most intense act of violence I had ever seen. And as I have thought back on what happened, I also realized that I’ve lived a pretty charmed life when it comes to witnessing events such as this. In other parts of the city (the non east end parts) seeing violent acts is not uncommon. As a kid that went to a primarily white middle class suburban school district, I was privileged in so many ways to have not even seen a food fight in all my years of schooling. I guess that after witnessing that yesterday and feeling how it affected me mentally and physically (there was some vomiting that occurred in the staff bathroom), I worry about the kids that experience that kind of violence on a regular basis. I’m not trying to make generalizations, but after seeing the news headlines about what’s really going on between the nice parts of town, I’ve just been thinking. It’s just wild to me that we build things in this city for less than 25% if it’s applicants. It makes so much sense why our homeless population is so high, we are literally pushing them out of their homes (even if that home is tent city) just so our downtown can be cosmetically attractive. It’s terrifying.

With that said, I am also trying not to judge the feelings I’m having about yesterdays incident. No I was not injured, no this is not a common occurrence for me to witness something like this and for both those things I am lucky but, I still did witness something extremely horrific yesterday and I do need to take time to digest that before I start to resent/become afraid of my job or the people I serve.

Mental Illness is very powerful and can cause people to become violent. However, it is important to note that, people living with mental illness are more likely to be a victim of violence then to be the perpetrators of such acts. It’s a terrible reality that people don’t know that and our patients run from that stigma of the “violent mentally ill” everyday, and it’s important to remind you and myself that I do too.

When a patient is released into police custody or sent directly to prison I feel this knot in my stomach. They are sick, that’s why they are admitted to a hospital, how could you possibly hold them responsible for whatever act they performed while sick? Would you blame someone for sneezing if they had a cold? I’m not sure and I understand something like assault on staff members is unacceptable and disgusting but, with him being sick can we really hold them accountable legally? I’m not saying they need to be released back into the community by any means but, there must be another option other than adding to the already overpopulated prisons that have also been called the largest mental health care facilities.

I don’t know the answer but, I do know I’m scared for the future. It makes me very uncomfortable to know I’m a part of a system that sends men and women having psychotic episodes to prison. It’s just all hard to swallow these days.

So, as I looked around last night at this part of a city I’ve lived in all my life, I didn’t recognize it. It was too clean and organized, there was no room for improvising or street art which is one of my favorite parts about this place. It was upper class bar after upper class bar with overpriced apartment complexes in between that housed your everyday young professional looking to live close to the night life action. I thought about my patients and the future of this city. For so long, I have wanted to leave this place. I felt I knew too much about it to live my life in bliss. But, maybe that’s why I shouldn’t leave. When talking to Daisy and Dakota I asked them where they think they will end up they both said here, in this city we grew up in (well in a suburb near here). I was shocked. For as long as I have known how bad it really is for others in our community and how people were suffering, I have wanted to leave. I didn’t think it would be better in a different city but, at least I wouldn’t know about it and would know how to avoid finding out. Ignorance is bliss and doesn’t keep you up at night. However, what I’m realizing is that I shouldn’t give up on this place. No matter where I am I will find a broken piece because the healthcare system is broken in general. But, with my knowledge of this city and my chronic empathy, I might be able to help people here or at-least make one persons life a little easier.

I don’t think I’m special or that I’m the first person that’s ever wanted to help their city. I’m by no means extraordinary but, I don’t think I’m ready to give up on this place yet and even small gains are worth it.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

episode thirty-three // medical leave me alone

​Today I got an email from my psychiatrist. It was a response to a previous email I had sent her about a week ago before I went back to work. It was regarding whether to go on a medical leave. Before receiving the email I had picked up some hours at work. What I mean by that is I was scheduled to work four hour shifts this weekend but instead worked a twelve on Saturday and an eight on Sunday and then I picked up 2 other four hour shifts Tuesday and Thursday on top of the 2 four hour shifts I was scheduled for today and Monday. I also agreed to work a twelve hour shift this coming Sunday. Why you may ask? I’m not really sure. See the reality is with my therapist out of town I was exceptionally vulnerable so picking up hours at work had been a great distraction but, it also is a very emotional taxing job. I work in an inpatient psychiatric facility and its an intense gig to say the least. On Monday, when I was leaving work, a patient was barricading himself in his room. These events along with violence against staff and the verbal abuse we receive on a daily basis from patients and their families make the job hard enough but, add the layer of me also having a diagnosis and being so conscious of what these patients are going through it becomes exhausting. I say all the time that I often relate more to my patients than the staff and some times my coworkers lose their patience, never to the patients face but in the nurses station, and I take it personally. Not to mention that the mental health care system is broken and we sometimes release people that still need help because their insurance won’t cover it and continuity of care is not very reliable simply because there’s just not enough funding. My coworkers tend to be good at “closing the chart” which means when that patient is discharged it’s over, their job is done (until the patient comes back of course because they do very often). For me, I find it difficult to just let go. I spend a lot of time wondering about my patients and worrying about them. And when we do things like release a patient to police custody, it is particularly hard on me.

So, when my psychiatrist emailed me back expressing she agrees that whilst going through this med change I should take a medical leave from work, I was relieved.

This med change isn’t going to be easy the withdrawals that will occur when switching from the antidepressant that I’ve been on for at least 4 years to a brand new drug that just hit the market will be physically sickening and just getting off one of my antidepressants already has caused me extreme shakes and sweats. But, also when going through this emotionally trying time, I can’t be focusing on my patients or the system I need to be focusing on me.

I emailed my nursing manager and explained what was going on and she sent her best. I explained that taking a medical leave instead of just calling in if I get sick felt like the more responsible move and I think she appreciated it. But, at the end of the day it really doesn’t matter what she or anyone else thinks. I need to put me and my health first for once and nows the time.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

episode thirty-two // deja-who?

I feel like I want to die. I just want to disintegrate and bury myself in a hole and I’m not sure why. I’m pushing my mom away, spending money I shouldn’t almost like I want her to be mad at me. Like I want to give her a reason to see me how I truly am. A piece of shit. I’m selfish.

Yesterday, I went to my doctor and she’s gotten pretty spiritual over the years I’ve known her. This is fine, it hasn’t effected my medical care so whatever but, yesterday she sat me down and heard my concerns over my job and how I hated the system but, was never going to leave that job and how my ideation will never be acted out simply because I don’t want to traumatize the person who finds me blah blah blah. And although I went in to get a referral to an endocrinologist and a sleep study, I left with the number of a hippy dippy lady named Janice and thoughts that I might be psychic?

Okay, I’m definitely exaggerating but if your surprised by this still then you need to work on your reading retention. The reality is my doctor told me I had a gift that could feel like a burden and it was an intuition and I take on others emotions and wear them and that I need to learn how to control and handle my gift also, I needed to be in that room with her at that time to hear what she had to say and everything happens for a reason and I need to call Janice. Now this doctor has seen me for years and knows me very well, she had me crying not necessarily because she was hitting a nerve but, because for one I had just left work where a patient was barricading himself in a room and two I was tapering off one of my antidepressants OH and I’m getting my period too. Anyway, I called this lady Janice who I’ve been to once before years ago and made an appointment not just to appease my doctor but, also because I’m miserable and I’m willing to try anything (plus I’m gifted so that might mean I’m psychic and that could be cool and if not then great content for my tv show). I went to group after this appointment and cracked many a jokes about the situation (knowing they would laugh because I’m fucking psychic) and I could sense that my group leader was a little concerned so I called her out on it. She expressed that she’s concerned because as someone who has OCD and has in the past believed I could cause people cancer, this thought of having a “gift” could reinforce that belief and end up hurting more than helping.

She was more than right.

If I hadn’t heard that yesterday and had it on the forefront of my mind going into my “session” with Janice then I think I could have been in a deeper place of depression than I am now if possible.

Janice does Reiki and guided imagery and I can break it down for you really easy and quick. She has you lay down on this soft as bed, puts her hands on your shoulders or head, takes weird deep breathes, and then makes shit up. I don’t know if she knows she’s making shit up but, I like that better than thinking she actually is conceited enough to believe she is this all knowing being. I’m sure that stuff helps people though I just know it wasn’t for me.

The potentially damaging statement she made was as follows:

She said in regards to my patients, they are the ultimate illusion and actually depict how I’m feeling inside. If I’m feeling shitty and awful then they are going to do poorly.

Playing right into my OCD’s hands but thankfully I had a barrier of what I talked to my group leader about the night before. She also said that I can’t help them basically and that they have to help themselves and that I’m not powerful enough to have control over their lives. This is somewhat true but also, it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try in little ways to make life better.

As soon as she started talking about these curtains around my heart blocking out the light and my spirit guides being around me I basically checked out and I’m almost positive I feel asleep for 30 minutes of our 45 minute session. But, when I woke up she told me I had done a great job...at what I’m not sure but, I guess my spirit guides did some dope shit. Either way, I think I’m good for now with all of that. I know I’m special I went to a middle class suburban high school where everyone’s told how special they are all the time, I don’t need this woman to tell me while she “moves my energy” all around my body and “summons my spirit guides.”

All jokes aside though I don’t know why I feel this shitty now. I finally have an appointment with Jazz tomorrow, I should be stoked but I’m not. I’m being kept awake by endless worrying about my friends, my family, my patients, and myself. I am worried about me and what this future does hold for me and I feel like this is a new development. Kinda in limbo and honestly wish I was psychic so I could figure out what’s going to happen next. No real resolution to this episode except that I’m still miserable and I’m not Raven Baxter or Theresa Caputo, I currently can’t tell which one is more disappointing.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

episode thirty-one // a depressive episode

What happened in the past week is really hard to explain. I feel slightly obligated to post a description of the events that ensued before moving on with newer posts. So I will proceed to do so in a bulleted fashion to save time and energy. Just a warning this is not a happy episode.

• I went to a National convention related to mental illness advocacy felt slightly stigmatized there and slightly alone (I went alone so shocker)
• Met these two guys who were promoting a project they were working on, somehow convinced them I was of sane mind whilst introducing myself, became extremely insecure they didn’t like me with no evidence of this and honestly probably appeared like a weird, clingy, bag of emotions.
• Developed a crush for one of these boys and interpreted some of his communications as flirting (still undetermined whether I misinterpreted or not)
• Helped this other incredible girl I had met before but, had gotten to know more at this convention deal with a sticky friend situation and handle a stalker situation (wild I know)
• Turned 21 whilst at this convention
• Felt incredibly insecure a second time due to failed communications with the guys and with my new friend
• Received a call from my friend (Dustin) from home but was at the banquet
• Decided to call him back and reach out for support by telling him how bad my birthday had really been. Then realized once on the phone with him he was with all my other friends and didn’t want to ruin their night. Told him it was great.
• Went out for drinks on my birthday with the guys and my friend from earlier
• Barely walked down one of the most prominent (and smelly) streets in the city we were in before it started to rain
• Found a dive bar on another less smelly street, in which we took cover from what turned in to a torrential downpour.
• Had two drinks (one of which the guy I was interested in bought for me) before the guys expressed they were exhausted and wanted to go back
• Called an Uber back before the drinks had even hit me only to arrive at the hotel and realize the bar was closed
• Said goodbye to everyone
• Went back up to my hotel room alone where the drinks finally took effect
• Stupidly and Drunkenly cried over people not posting on Instagram about my birthday (how fucking adult of me)
• Felt the lowest I’ve felt in a longtime
• Realized my med changes were not helping and that I was NOT ok
• Texted my group chat of high school friends “Is anyone awake?” at 1:41am hoping for anyone to answer (keep in mind I was very drunk)
• Got a response from Olive and I BLEW UP her phone with some seriously depressing shit that I would not do sober.
• Felt extremely EXTREMELY guilty
• Cried until there was gross amounts of snot running down my face
• Olive finally convinced me to call her
• Stayed on the phone with her for an hour or so (do not remember) expressed several times that I wanted a do-over for my birthday
• She finally talked me down to go to sleep but not until after I texted Dustin apologizing for lying to him about my birthday being great lol because it was trash and also texted an essay to Captain about how much I appreciate him because that’s normal
• Woke up the next morning and texted all of those people apologizing and expressing how embarrassed I am (got two “it’s all good fam” type responses with a little added emotion from Dustin)
• Olive also responded by telling me there’s no reason to apologize (my OCD was like she lying! Say you’re sorry)
• Quickly packed and got to the airport way early (to avoid anymore human contact)
• Texted my mom a message about my meds and that I needed help and I’m not going to hide it anymore
• She called and I explained what happened and cried again
• Received a text from my friend from high school, Dakota, that she wants to throw me a new birthday when I get home (this is when I realized when I texted Olive last night most of my friends were still together)
• I agreed happily
• Got to the airport at home (they lost my bag for 35 minutes)
• Mom picked me up had an emotional greeting
• Went home then to party that we named June 31st because my birthday is June 30th and we are ignoring what happened
• I Walked into the house where my second party was being held and immediately ran into the arms of, long time friend and was also there last night whilst I was texting Olive, Daisy

Have to make a caviat here I was pretty sure I was seeing/hearing things that weren’t there due to my meds so it was a super scary time

• Walked in and hugged Doug and Captain
• Captain proceeded to say “quite the entrance ‘my name here’ referring to my dramatic crying entrance...I laughed it off but c’mon man.
• Realized he will never handle my emotions like he handled Annie’s or support me the way he did her, which is really hard but something I needed to understand
• Had a great night full of laughs and a tie dye cake and presents
• Shot my shot with one of the guys from earlier via text and it went decent (Depression makes you care less about rejection at time because you’re already rejecting yourself)

This was a big one:

• Looked around and realized that tonight would be an okay last night of life...something to leave them with, happy thoughts of me

I’m going to stop the bullet points here because this was really what I’m leading up to and if you have trouble with content about suicidality you should probably stop here. Come 11pm the party was winding down and it’s almost like I was becoming content with the end. I walked outside with Daisy and we chatted for a bit about what was going on. She was getting emotional telling me she never wants me to feel guilty for asking for help. Also Cap almost hit us with his car that shits crazy he just backed up and didn’t look. I should have been super inspired by Daisy’s comfort but, instead I just put in a reminder in my brain to add a thank you to her for it in my note to her...you know what kind of note I’m talking about.

But, I guess it did have an effect on me because I did ask for help. I called my mom and asked her to stay over because I was starting to be ambivalent about life and that’s what’s dangerous. I was just ready.

My mom came to my apartment and I survived the night. Went to group the next day. Called my psychiatrist and got a huge med change due to the potential hallucinations. My therapist was out of town for the week but, I did get to meet with my group leader one on one which kept me stable. I then went to my families cabin for the fourth with friends and honestly it was the most fun I’ve had in such a long time. I wish I could bottle that day up and just live it over and over again. It reminded me that things can get better.

I also realized that no matter how I did it (end my life) I would be found by someone. I would traumatize them and I cannot do that. I don’t want that to be my legacy.

So, I’m getting help. Threw myself into work this weekend to keep busy but, as soon as Jazz comes back into town I gotta get to work and figure out what this is depression is all about.

If you made it this far I salute you. This mess of a week has put me through hell and back but, I am back and that’s what’s important. It will get better, it will be okay, stay strong through whatever you are going through. Sending love because that’s all I can do.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

PS

You are never alone don’t forget that. There are resources:

The NAMI HelpLine: 800-950-6264

National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

Crisis Text Line: can be reached by texting HOME to 741-741

episode thirty // a supportive cast

Tonight I was surrounded by some of my favorite people. Captain, Doug, Olive, and my other long time best friend June came over to watch the Oceans movies, ending with Oceans Thirteen my favorite movie of all time. June moved to her college town and stayed to work for the summer and is a world traveler every chance she gets. This is something I always have admired her for but, also caused me to miss her quite a bit. So, when she said she was coming into town for her cousins graduation I was elated.

The five of us watched oceans eleven, survived oceans twelve, and by oceans thirteen everyone was tired but hung in there for my sake which is the best thing ever.

I found myself often reaching out and holding my friend’s hands or resting my head on their shoulders almost as if to physically center myself in the moment with these people who have been keeping me afloat during these trying times of depression and the heartache it brings. They may not know what they do for me, and sometimes I’m not so fun to be around but they stay by my side and that’s something I’ll never forget.

I said bye to June just moments ago. Tears welled up in my eyes as I wouldn’t see her again until early August but, it felt good to see her and I knew that I needed to survive July to see her again, it gives me another reason to fight.

Tonight, I also confronted the topic of Captain moving away to college which isn’t happening until August but, I’ve been avoiding the topic for so long because it’s a hard thing to wrap your mind around. It’s hard when your rocks have to go live their own lives even though, in reality, nothing makes you happier then to see them thrive.

My heart aches but, is full and that’s a good kind of heartache because it means you care.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

episode twenty-nine // company repels misery

It’s been just four days since I upped the dose of my anti depressant and I was hoping to ride the high of “having a plan” for a bit longer but I crashed...hard.

I told some of my coworkers about me upping my meds because I was feeling really sick from what I’m assuming was serotonin overload and telling people lessened the burden. They cared it seemed which was a nice feeling but one of them, who is looking to become a clinical psychologist, said “I would have never guessed! You’re so upbeat and happy all the time but, I guess those are usually the people you have to worry about!” One of my Group therapy members said that sounds like a segment from a late night talk show regarding the worst thing you could say to someone with depression and it’s definitely up there with the time the pharmacy tech mentioned the two recent celebrity suicides while checking out my prescription of antidepressants...people just don’t think.

I survived the weekend but, here we are Monday night (Tuesday morning) sitting in my car feeling miserable. I hung out with Captain and Doug today and I did everything I could to make the moment of being with my people last. I begged Captain to stay but, it kinda looked ridiculous when I think about it now. I’m quite embarrassed but, he’s my friend and sometimes you just gotta remind them they are important to you and if that’s annoyingly begging to spend more time with them and touching to make sure they are real so be it. Yeah I keep having this feeling my friends aren’t real so like I just touch them to make sure.

I’m crazy don’t you forget.

And then when Doug kicked me out (nicely of course he was exhausted) I put up a fight knowing what awaited me on the other side of his company. The loneliness kicked in immediately and the knot returned to my stomach and here we are.

As Olive reminded me when I texted her Friday night, it doesn’t happen immediately and consciously I know that. But, when you feel this awful for what’s supposed to be your summer break, logic tends to go out the window. So, right now nothing is quick enough and I want to be better now. What’s important is that I want the pain to end but, not my life and that’s a good sign. I think I can make it through the night without any crying. Crying can be cathartic but for me sometimes it just causes me to dwell on the sad and it often leads me to a dark place.

The moral of this story is that in some circumstances misery does not love company. In fact company can keep misery at bay as long as it’s around if it’s the right company. The shitty part is that once the company goes away, so does the protection and we are right back where we started...miserable.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

episode twenty-eight // serotonin overload brings hope and hair loss

This is an update to a previous post so, if you haven’t been reading I would catch up on at least the last one before reading this one!

So, my appointment with my psychiatrist went well. She heard me and was awesome as usual. I’m not going to start ketamine which was the major question. It’s really too labor intensive for me right now and I still have more options prior to what I originally believed. We decided that we would increase the dose of one of the two antidepressants I am on and she’s pretty optimistic about it. I started taking it this morning with an increase dose and it didn’t go great. I had symptoms of serotonin overload and almost fell asleep while driving. Serotonin overload sounds like it should be a euphoric and awesome feeling but instead it kinda just makes you feel like death. You get these weird shocks, your mouth gets dry, I guess your hair can start falling out and shit too! No good! But, the symptoms went away in time and I contacted my psychiatrist to let her know how I was doing and she just said to take the increased dose every other day to get used to it. So, hopefully tomorrow morning won’t be so rough.

I’m hopeful though. My psychiatrist believes I have a pattern of ups and downs and that this is just a shitty drop in my mood. She’s hoping that if I get to a good level mood wise I can go on a mood stabilizer so that I avoid the “drop” that has led me to write most of the posts on this blog.

Right now I’m in a Starbucks in my cousins town where I’m going to see him and his band play. I haven’t seen them play since my other cousins wedding so I’m super excited. It’s good to be around family sometimes, even when there’s a shit ton of drama that could happen at any moment. Sometimes I feel like I drive into the center of the storm on purpose.

I’m pretty stable right now though. Some life things have happened that we’re kinda stressful but, they have kinda resolved themselves now and hopefully they remain that way. Last night I went to see a movie with Captain and one of my best friends from home who has been my friend since like sixth grade, Olive. Between the two of them, Olive and Cap have been keeping me a float and as much as I tell them I appreciate them I never can escape this feeling of guilt I have. I’m afraid I’m too much sometimes. But, that’s my own shit it’s nothing they do. Last night in the middle of the movie I looked to my left and right and felt super safe. It was a great feeling.

I’m just waiting here so I figured I would post an update. The word of the blog is officially out to some of my friends from home now so, I at least know I’m not the only one who reads these (yes I read my own posts...fight me). Thinking about posting some old drafts so if you see some #tbt stuff you know what’s up. I’ll make sure to preface it though. But, in the mean time be kind to yourself...you know I’m trying to!

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

episode twenty-seven // be your best mess

Hi, I’m stressed and can’t sleep. Tomorrow’s my big appointment with my psychiatrist where I’m gonna bring up ketamine. You may ask “Isn’t that a party drug?” And yes, yes it can be.

i’M tRyNa Be LiT aLl ThE tImE cAn’T yOu SeE¿

No, but in all seriousness there’s new studies in which ketamine is administered intravenously and it’s shown to be a great anti-depressant. And if you’ve been reading my previous posts you know that I’ve been fucking depressed. I want to be clear I’m not jumping straight to ketamine. It’s not like the first thing I’m trying. Quite the opposite actually, I’m low key feeling like it’s my last hope. I’ve been on at least 10 different psychiatric medications since age 12 and have been in talk therapy throughout that time and group therapy for the past 2 years. I’ve put in my work and am still utterly miserable so, I’m trying to do something different.

There’s not much more to say about that tonight because there’s nothing I can do about it tonight but, my brain can’t stop stressing. And seeming as there’s only so much you can think about in regards to an appointment that’s 7 hours away, I’m noticing all the things I’ve been ignoring during my depression dip.

My clothes are scattered all over my apartment, there are pieces of trash lying around, there’s no garbage bag in the bathroom trash can so all the trash is accumulating on the sink which is gross, there are unopened boxes taking up space, and I swear there’s a dirty dish on every surface that can hold one. It’s a literal mess.

It definitely mirrors how my brain has been though and maybe that’s the point. It’s some sort of symbol of my mental state. Or, it’s just a fucking mess and I need to clean it up before shit gets worse. Either way I’m quite disappointed in myself because I am not respecting my space as much as I should. I am so lucky to be here and I let it get this bad I guess I would ask “what’s wrong with me?” But, we all know the answer to that.

I’m going to try to go to bed now. I’m at least going to put a garbage bag in the bathroom trash can tonight (we love little wins) and then tomorrow hopefully I’ll gain some motivation after my appointment with my psychiatrist and maybe I’ll put half the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. (But, I’m making no promises). Either way ya gotta kinda embrace the mess a bit. Embracing it may help get you through the night and that’s sometimes all it takes.

I’m sure I’ll update you tomorrow about this meeting of the minds. But, in the meantime do me a favor and be kind to yourself.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

episode twenty-six // punch line and sinker

Not a lot of people can say their first comedy open mic was at their friends cabin more than slightly inebriated...or maybe this is where all the greats start. Either way I need to work on it because let’s just say I bombed. I felt this overwhelming wave of shame come over me. I became so insecure I wanted to drop dead right there. But, maybe that’s the point.

For so long I have constantly tried to be a people pleaser. Always trying to tailor my comedy (and my personality) to my audience which often left me unfulfilled but, somewhat comfortable. At least I didn’t say anything stupid. Tonight I made several of my worst jokes but the jokes that I like. The ones that make me laugh. I was very drunk but, I know when I’m losing a crowd and I honestly had no way of bringing them back in. And these were my friends. Granted two of them were my one friend Amelia’s pals from college and study abroad but, I had developed a bond with them over the hours of heavy drinking, pong playing, and interpretive dancing. Friends or no, I really wanted to impress them (they were so cool). But, I failed. And normally this would be catastrophic and I’m still feeling that a bit but, I’m feeling okay. My brain has developed an acceptance for the embarrassment quicker than ever before. Yes I still get that feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think about it but, it doesn’t feel like a fresh wound, it’s like I’ve recovered quicker this time. I don’t know whether it’s the alcohol minimizing the anxiety or the depression causing me to be numb. Either way, I’m okay. I’m okay to sleep not freaking out whether they loved me or not. It is what it is.

An update on the depression though. My mood is still well below baseline. I feel on the verge of tears constantly (but I have no tears left) whenever I’m alone or am left to my own thoughts. My OCD is thriving off it also. It’s begun writing it’s own stories in my mind, making it so I have trouble trusting reality. It’s exhausting and it’s hard and I didn’t sign up for this but, I can handle it. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. Many doctors appointments in my future but in the mean time I’m keeping busy. Surrounding myself with people I like. I did that tonight even though I also embarrassed myself. Can’t wait for my SECOND open mic.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

episode twenty-five // it’s time

Oh look it’s that time again! The time I start hating myself. It happens throughout the day in spurts and then finally I’ll get that “3 o’clock feeling” where my depression decides to hit me like a brick and progresses into the night, getting worse by the minute.

I do stupid shit, I apologize for everything, and I feel so insecure. At this time of day I’d rather be dead.

So, why is it that just after lunch time this lump in my stomach forms alongside a feeling of hatred toward myself?

It could be neurobiology. My brain releases hormones at this time of the day or something.

It could be my medications wearing off. This because I take them at 7am so maybe the extended release just stops releasing.

Or it could be exhaustion. I get so tired that my defenses weaken and I cannot fend of the demon anymore.

The cause is important because I can’t keep living like this. I need to know the problem before I can figure out the solution. Getting more sleep is an easy solve that I’m attempting. I’m also eating better and kinda exercising. But the big change that most like needs to be addressed is a medication change (dun dun dun).

If you have never been on a psychiatric medication, lucky you. I, however, fall into the approximate 16.7% of Americans that take prescription psychiatric medications and I have been for about nine years. I have taken a variety of different drugs and been to at least 3 psychiatrists that I can remember and no matter if it was an antidepressant, an antipsychotic, a sedative, or a stimulant; nothing is worse than the discomfort and anxiety that can result from a med change. Your body can react poorly given you horrible side effects. Your mind could also, sometimes making you worse and not to mention just hoping that the insurance company covers at least part of it. It’s a lot of stress, as any change is, but it always ends up better on the other side. There’s always something else we can try if one med doesn’t work. Or at least that’s why my psychiatrist says as she encourages me to not lose hope.

I have an appointment in a little under a week where I will bring up what’s been going on with me. I have some options I’ve been looking into such as the new Ketamine infusions or adding some sort of birth control. I just hope something works because I’m tired of being afraid when the clock keeps ticking. It makes me want to just stop it all completely. I’m safe, I have supports, and I’m sure I’ll update you soon on any changes. I don’t know if anyone reads these or ever will but, thanks.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

episode twenty-four // unrequited

To love and be loved. That’s all anyone really wants right? I just feel like I’m unlovable.

My friends are gorgeous incredible people and are able to find people who like them at a drop of a hat. Me? I can’t get a second look. I’m envious of my friends and it’s an ugly feeling. I want for them the best in life and they deserve it, it’s just hard to see others get what you want. Especially when you are so alone to begin with.

It’s not enough for someone to tell me that it’ll be ok or that I’ll find someone someday. That doesn’t help and actually it’s fucking annoying. I just want someone to love me, to be attracted to me. I’m trying to lose the weight, I’m trying to clear my skin, but how do I make my personality prettier. You can’t conceal that shit. I’m jealous, that makes me so ugly and it makes me hate myself which makes me more jealous, it’s an endless cycle.

This post won’t have an ending that is at all satisfactory and honestly that’s what I’ve been dealing with. I goto bed feeling this heavy burden on my chest and I wake up with the same feeling, no relief. And I try to reach out but there’s nothing anyone can say or do.

I would never ask someone to put their life on hold for me or to not pursue something because I’m miserable or it makes me sad. I’m sick in the brain, it’s turning against itself. All I can do is cry. All I’ve done is cry. My inner monologue has been a constant loop of “you’re not good enough” and I’m starting to believe it. Maybe I’ll only ever be able to have unrequited love. It’s exhausting but, maybe It’s the reason why I’m on this planet still, to give all I can until I can’t anymore. I just hope I realize when I’m finally spent.

Or maybe boys and relationships shouldn’t be the most important thing in our lives. It could be possible that that’s just what’s surrounding me right now. It could be possible that I’m putting so much pressure on this aspect of my life simply because everyone is talking about it all the time. It’s possible that it’s not the thing I should be focusing on right now. But, it’s also possible that that doesn’t change the fact that I’m miserable and that sucks. 

Even Strong people struggle, maybe that’s what makes them strong. And sometimes the Lead doesn’t need a romantic lead but, sometimes it’s nice that’s all.  

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

episode twenty-three // the bridge, the canal, the train

WARNING: this blog post contains potentially triggering content regarding suicide. If you or a friend are struggling with a mental health crisis please visit: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/talk-to-someone-now/

or call  1-800-273-8255

there’s going to be a tomorrow and you deserve to see it. 

Monday night at around 11 PM I found myself sitting in my car, under a bridge, to the left of some train tracks and the canal. I’m depressed again. So overwhelmingly miserable. And with no obvious cause. Monday was a really bad night. I called my therapist and she talked me down enough to allow me to drive home and goto bed. It took thirty-seven minutes.

Without that thirty-seven minute phone call I’m not sure I would have survived that horrible night. I was screaming and crying into the phone and my therapist (Jazz) just kept asking what had changed, I had been doing so well. And I don’t know. Nothing changed other than school being over, and that’s a relief, so why am I like this? Why do I dread waking up in the morning? Why do I dread going to sleep? Jazz said it could be a neurotransmitter blip, it happens sometimes with no explanation. It could be the let down after the difficult semester I endured. It could be anything really but, none of the inquiries I have made about the cause have lessened the weight of this awful feeling. I’m weepy, I hate everything, I hate myself the most, and I just want it all to stop. I didn’t realize Monday night where I was until the middle of the call with Jazz. The fog of my depressive state cleared just enough to realize I had brought myself to a place of options. The bridge, the canal, the train. All ways I could have ended the suffering. And I brought myself to this place subconsciously. Each option readily available and yet, I didn’t want to. Although I long for relief, I realized I also long for a better life. I brought myself to this place with options to choose the fourth option, to live. It sounds dramatic, and that’s because it is, but I taught myself that no matter how strong the feelings are, I’m stronger. It doesn’t feel like it but, making the decision to drive home that night was a big win for me. And I couldn’t have done it without that thirty-seven minute phone call. It didn’t cure anything. It’s half past midnight on Thursday and I still am miserable, I still hate myself, I’m still longing for relief. But, I’m safe in my apartment. My subconscious isn’t trying to wake me anymore. I’m alive despite the bridge, the canal, and the train.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

episode twenty-two // L after L

I got home this morning at 4am. The birds were chirping as I walked along the sidewalk from the parking lot. I felt numb. I still do.

Yesterday was supposed to be a release from the shit the real world does to you. It was supposed to be a vacation from the mundane day to day that is usually sprinkled with endless amounts of drama. It was supposed to be different.

We were visiting our friends boyfriend at his college, for clarity we will just call this College A. Our Acapella Group was asked to open for his and it was an opportunity we could not pass up. We were going to go to a real college party and have some college kid type fun before we kick into finals week and then summer which most of us have to work the majority of to pay for college. College A had a reputation for being awesome and the campus lived up to it. It was beautiful truly. Our plan ended up having a couple of snags along the way and then eventually just burst into flames when we found out that without College A ID’s we could get our buddy in serious trouble for being on campus for the party. I was disappointed but, the day had already been a mess. Two of my friends were fighting and another friend had completely just walked out on our group because she didn’t get the solo she wanted in Acapella. The drama was at an all time high so I don’t know why I didn’t take that as a note from the universe to just take the L on the day.

Instead of accepting our defeat, Annie came up with the idea of not letting the night die. I was so upset and she was so good to me and there was nothing I wanted more to go get drunk at a real college party and make out with some random dude. My goals seem very juvenile and ridiculous, I know, but I had been living my life in a bubble with a lack of simple experience that someone in college should have. Something as simple as their first fucking kiss. I don’t have any sentiment tied to it now. At this point I just want to get rid of this whole “first kiss” stigma that the older I get gets more and more annoying.

With this new found hope that tonight could be salvaged we put our thinking caps on. I called two of my friends that go to school in a nearby city. One didn’t answer my calls but ended up calling me back later on saying he was working all night and couldn’t hang but to keep him posted. The other was a little more complicated.

Sometimes there’s a person in your life you just can’t get over (platonically or romantically). You know they probably aren’t good for you but you can’t fucking help it and no matter what you always end back in the same spot. I called him which was probably a bad decision but he said he was studying all night and couldn’t hang but to text him if I needed a ride or anything. I was sad he couldn’t hang out but knew myself enough to know I probably dodged a bullet. My resources were exhausted at this point and I looked to my cohorts for support.

And then just like that, Captain had made a few calls and in a little under two hours we were on the road to some random party house 45 minutes away at College B. It was Annie and I in one car and Captain and Doug in another and the entire way I tried to psych myself up. It was time I need to be fun.

The college house eerily remind me of my brothers college home where we had once found a mouse amongst the dirty dishes. It was trashed from past parties and the furniture that was obviously not placed for ease of entry and exit nor in accordance to any fire code but instead, to allow for the maximum amount of people to view the television at once, made the place look exceptionally crowded.

There was talk of getting me a fake ID so I could get into the bars with them. This made me nervous because my sister had got caught up in some legal troubles when it came to fake ID’s so I had always avoided them and up to that point had no reason to need one. I had determined I didn’t want to go out and Cap had expressed to me he wasn’t interested either. I had insisted that I could stay at the house alone and just chill and maybe sober up enough to go home but he countered that expressing he really didn’t want to go out.

That’s when I received a call.

It was the friend from the earlier paragraph. The one who I cannot get over. I had texted him asking if he could pick me up or I could Uber to him because I was beginning to panic and needed a reason not to go out. He called me and sounded off. He was drunk and mumbled some stuff that had me pretty concerned. He asked me if I was alright and I told him I was but that I was stupid for thinking I could handle real college life and he asked me why I would say that and that I should stop calling myself that because it wasn’t true. He continued on about how I didn’t need alcohol to make friends and that college friends are all surface anyway. I realized quickly this conversation wasn’t really about me. I was so worried I asked him if I could come over but he said he was fine and that drinking alone was normal for him and I just complied. I didn’t know what to do so we exchanged goodbyes and hung up.

I walked inside with a perplexed look on my face that Captain and Annie immediately read. I explained what had happened and they were concerned also. I said that the reason I didn’t want to go out was because I think I was going to see him but, turns out he didn’t contact me the rest of the night and then this morning I got a text from him acting like nothing happened. I asked him if he remembered calling me and he said no. He asked me what he had said and I told him but, I still haven’t received a text back from him after that. Story of my life.

But, before any of that when I was “waiting for a text back” I decided not to go out and Cap stayed with me while Doug, Annie and Captains friends we were staying with went out to the bars. We sat on the couch in the dark house watching soccer highlights on repeat. We talked about how much the world sucked and how many “L’s” we had taken just in the last 24 hours. We talked about our friendship and our friendships with others. He kept apologizing for bringing the conversation back to being about him and every time I just remind him that I’m his friend and I will always listen.  I decided to just drive home, I was sober enough, but I wanted to wait until I knew Annie and Doug were on their way back so Captain wouldn’t be sitting here alone. When we finally got the confirmation that they were on their way I collected my stuff, hugged the Cap and maneuvered through the various couches and tables full of empty vodka bottles. I walked outside and immediately saw a red sports car parked in the driveway blocking my departure. I couldn’t help but laugh. The cherry on top. Captain tried to wake up the others in the house still, trying to figure out whose car it was. It was 2am at this point and the bars didn’t close til around 4 so the owner of the house wouldn’t be home until then, it looked like I was staying the night. Thankfully when Annie and Doug got home they disagreed with this assumption and Annie was able to wake up the girl whose car it was and free me from this tragic night.

I told Captain to tell his friends I was dealing with some friend-shit and that I appreciated their hospitality. Also that I was sorry that they put work into finding a fake I was never going to end up using. I felt very guilty and I feel very embarrassed. Thinking about their judgments still sends a shiver down my spine and makes me lightheaded. Because in my mind it looks like I prevented Captain from going out and that’s not a good look for me. It is what it is though and I cannot change it but I’ll be thinking about it and worrying about it until I see them next...if I ever do.

I drove the hour and fifteen minutes home listening to podcasts and trying to stay awake. I was numb. I hated myself. I hated the world. I wish I could say I feel differently about it now. I mean yeah I took care of myself and did what I had to do but, I also wimped out big time and proved to myself that maybe I’m just not able to handle the fun things that I as a college student should experience.

I crawled into bed, cried a bit, then fell soundly asleep.

So, this is your strong female lead I guess. She’s a fucking mess but, not as bad as some. She hates herself. She hates so much. She can’t help it. She’s probably not the one you wanted but, she’s the one you got. She’s imperfect. But, she’s trying and that’s really all you can ask for.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

episode twenty-one // puppy love

I know that if you’re not fond of dogs or pets in general it may seem quite ridiculous when you see someone mourning them. I know this because I too have been critical of the lengths that people go for their furry friends. But, until you have shared that relationship with an animal and how absolutely enriching it is, you may never know.

I just got off the phone with my brother who lives in DC. He and I have a decade age difference that has made our relationship at times incredible and difficult at others. But, one thing we have always shared is our love for his dog Zoey. My brother, who we will simply call brother, made the decision to adopt a little chocolate lab puppy with his high school sweetheart his sophomore year of college, I believe. He and this girl ended up breaking it off because she was frankly awful but, his relationship with his real girl, Zoey, was only just beginning. They went through his college years together, spending the summers with us, Zoey and I got really close. At some point, I can’t figure out the exact timing, Zoey was living with us for an extended period of time. I don’t know whether my brother was going to law school or working honestly it doesn’t really matter, either way for about two years Zoey was my dog. We took a liking to each other and became the best of friends. I know it’s cliche but that dog knew all of my secrets and was honestly my best bud for a good period of time.

Earlier today, my brother texted me and asked my schedule for the day and at first I thought nothing of it and then I was walking to my apartment building and got an eerie feeling. I thought about her age in relation to our other dogs and tried to convince myself all was fine as I awaited his call.

First thing he did after I picked up the phone was ask me what group was because I had told him that’s what occupied my time on Monday nights and after I explained he took a beat and then hit me with the “I have some bad news” line, my family has never been one for smooth transitions. He explained she has a tumor in her nose and then told the entire story of what’s been going on which is something my brother and I both do when we are uncomfortable. I started crying and I heard him choke up. All I could say was “I’m so sorry I know this is so hard for you” there’s literally never been another time where I wanted to be connected to my brother more. I wanted to reach through the telephone line and give him the biggest hug. Zoey was the one thing my brother and I truly connected on. And it seems we are about to lose it. “Nothing is definite,” he said, “but the question is not if but when” a statement said in my family so many times. Zoey is one of the most amazing creatures to ever exist. She was so much more than a dog to me (I know cliche but listen) she was the connection to my brother that I had always longed for. As a kid I had worshipped my brother and when the image of him was shattered that he was not this perfect being, I found it harder and harder to relate to him. Honestly it’s kinda because we are so similar and strong headed but, for whatever reason, Zoey brought us common ground. She is something we shared. I will never be able to express truly what this dog has done for me. And I have felt similar ways to dogs before but, I honestly don’t know what life would have been like without Zoey and I have a sad feeling that I wouldn’t have a relationship at all with my brother for I think the distant one we have now is related to this four legged furry friend. I know it sounds ridiculous and that there are so many bigger things going on in the world but, right now I can’t help but think about my buddy. I love her and I always will. Thank you sweet puppy I hope I get to see you one more time but if I don’t thank you.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

AN UPDATE!

It turns out there isn’t a tumor in Zoey’s nose it’s some other rhinitis! Good news!  

episode twenty // no sense

 “Don’t try to make sense out of it you’ll drive yourself crazy” my dad said to me tonight on the phone before we exchanged goodbyes. Today I found out about a tragedy. I can’t speak much about details so I won’t but I will selfishly frame this story around me and how I feel because, unfortunately, that’s the only thing I can control in this world.

One thing my OCD is good for is placing blame. I have always been hyper focused on justice because of it. Nothing in this world just happens, there is always some place where something could’ve been changed. An alternate timeline where the world is brighter. One action of one person that could have switched the outcome. And as I said before, I can only control one thing and that’s me so you can guess who usually carries the blame.

On one hand, it relieves the discomfort of uncertainty and that the world is random and tragic. As I said in a previous post, having power and it effecting the world negatively is easier then to truly be powerless. However, taking responsibility for something so grievous can cause serious damage to someone. I have taken on the pain and suffering that comes with tragedy. I am currently owning that pain although in reality there is nothing I could have done. We live in an iniquitous world.

I want someone to blame. I need there to be something that could have been different. I am ashamed to be a part of a broken system that has resources and yet fails to implement them. Or to be apart of a system that did all it could but, was just inadequate. I don’t know which one is scarier.

I have guilt for something I could not have stopped. Everything is clearer looking back but, either way it was never a responsibility of mine to prevent an incident like this. Yet I give myself so much power just to feel powerless. I lay here trying to figure out what should have happened instead of going through the pain of accepting what did. Which one is healthier? Who knows. As my dad said, there’s no sense. There’s nothing. Some kinds of evil cannot be explained or prevented. And yet I will still try. I don’t know whether thats a sign of optimism or ignorance. I wish this post was lighter, more entertaining, but, reality is smacking me in the face this evening. This is a cruel cruel world.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead.

episode eighteen // seventeen

I really wanted this to be my 17th post.

I have a connection with certain numbers. It could be an OCD thing or human mind thing but, certain numbers mean more than others. For example: 34 was my brothers lacrosse number, 68 was his football number, 97 was the year I was born, 95 was the year my parents tied the knot, and 17...well 17 was how old my best friend was when she passed away.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned her in previous posts and if not, it’s not because I don’t think about her everyday. No, to be honest I think that it doesn’t come up in stories because it’s a constant in my life and something that I’ve learned in nursing school is don’t take time documenting what’s normal just focus on the irregular so I guess that’s what I do. But, she’s a major part of everything I do no matter what and just recently it marked 4 years since we lost her.

I was 16 at the time, a junior in high school. I cared way too much about what people thought of me and I was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans everyday without fail. I had reconnected with H my sophomore year after being partially hospitalized for depression and anxiety. She had been diagnosed with cancer at the beginning of the school year and it felt like she was the only person who understood that I was not breakable post hospitalization. Everyone else handle me with kitten gloves and I think that the same happens when your diagnosed with something so serious. People start to look at you like you’re distant, they don’t trust you with things, they don’t want to burden you. I will never know for sure but I think our bond was as strong as it was because we cut the bullshit and never treated each other like we were sick.

Unfortunately, I could treat her like she was healthy all I wanted but, cancer didn’t give a fuck. Her body was taken over by the disease and we lost her.

Grief at a young age hits ya hard. I broke after losing her and I’m still rebuilding and I’m not sure I’ll ever stop. It’s been four years, four anniversaries. The volume of social media posts about it has gone down and sometimes it feels as if people have forgotten. I know in my gut they haven’t. Some people have healed quicker or haven’t gotten to a place to start yet. Everyone really does handle grief differently. I just hope that if H is looking down from above she doesn’t take it personally.

I’m sure, if there’s a heaven, they conduct classes on what to expect from the living around the anniversary of your passing. There’s probably a protocol to follow so that you remain comfortable in the fact that it’s normal for people to move on. Thinking that she knows it’s normal doesn’t make me want to though.

You’ll notice earlier I said “if there’s a heaven,” and I’m sure I’ll write a whole post about religion someday but, this is relevant to now for two reasons. One, I believe that it is easier for people who subscribe to religion to grieve. From what I’ve seen in my own community, the people who truly believe they will see their loved one again or that they are in a better place tend to heal quicker as far as outward appearances. I don’t know this for a fact but, from the experiences I’ve had throughout H’s death, religious people tend to just have an ease about them. Having not grown up in religion, or having any exposure to it at all really, I cannot blindly believe anything. Religion serves a great purpose for many people though and I envy the bliss it brings them honestly.

This brings me to my second piece. Just because I don’t believe in religion doesn’t mean I don’t believe in something bigger than us. Having H pass away has made me become more spiritual in general. There are certain events that have happened to me that I have taken as signs from my friend. And whether they are or not really doesn’t matter because they bring me comfort which is making me become more and more sympathetic to religion everyday. Everything could be complete coincidence but, when I see certain “signs” it doesn’t matter because they bring me peace. The issue is when my OCD catches hold of these superstitions. Which brings me back to 17.

17 was also H’s field hockey number and for so long I have always started at station 17 on my lab practical (or else I would fail) or put myself 17th on a list just to be there because it feels right. So to prove to myself that nothing bad will happen I’m going to post this episode as 18. A little exposure never hurt nobody.

I miss H. I miss her everyday. She inspires me. She has made me a better person. And she is one of the reasons I want to be a nurse. There’s so much to thank her for is unbelievable and I feel like no matter where I end this episode it will feel too soon. I like to talk about her. I like to think she’s still here. I would do anything to see her again. I wish I could relive one of the days she was still here over and over again. To be completely honest I’m not sure I really like the world without H in it. But I’ll stay here and fight and live because I know that’s what she would have wanted.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

episode seventeen // don’t think too much about the zoo

My tinder bio should read:

Just another 20 something who thinks true love can come from a dating app and whose best pick up line is “hey how’s it going?” And, if you respond to it I will most likely ask you some mundane question that will receive a mundane answer and then I will use your mundaneness against you and never respond again even though I initiated the mundane.

I know that there’s this concept that no one is “good” at romance but, that doesn’t change the fact that I’m bad at it. Here’s the truth. I see myself as being loved the same way people love animals at the zoo. We like to go see them and wave at them and laugh but, no one wants to take an elephant home really. And no one really wants to know how that elephant is doing because historically zoo animals have been abused and if you don’t know then you can still enjoy their presence without the burden of knowing and not doing anything to help them...well that got dark quick. What I’m trying to say is my friends are great and I love them but, they have their own partners and relationship to nurture. They cannot constantly be worrying about their wacky friend. I want someone who is special to me. Meanwhile I’m in my 20th year of life singling it up and yeah, ok maybe zoo animals are locked up but at least most of them are mated.

I know, another girl talking about being single, what a cliche. And yes it is a cliche but like every other single girl telling her story would say “BUT IM DIFFERENT” (cue whining). In all seriousness though, I’m not different. If you google “being the last single friend in your friend group” there are like 4,000 buzzfeed/refinery29 articles about it. And this is because no matter how hard you want to believe it “singledom” is not unique.

So what’s my edgy twist? How do I make my lonely story special? I think that admitting that it’s not is the first step. There are SO MANY single people on this planet and it’s important to realize that every person who is in a relationship now, was single at one point. So there’s hope for all of us right? Well yes I guess if you look at it that way but, as a species that longs for connection “waiting for the right person” is disheartening. That’s why dating apps are so popular. It claims to speed up the wait time but, for those of us looking for something more than that we either have to lower our standards just to be asked to for a hookup or remain single. Disclaimer: there’s nothing wrong with being single. BUT, it doesn’t mean that wanting that partnership is wrong either. There’s a difference between “boy crazy” and the natural yearning for relation. Relationships offer validation, a support system, and someone to be genuinely interested in your answer to the question “how are you?” I mean that’s what relationships should be. What I think a lot of single people forget, me included, is that many of the relationships we look at with envy aren’t as happy as we would like to think. If you think about it, with all the unhealthy relationships going on there should be a lot more single people in this world but, the same societal standards and human needs that make being single feel so shitty are the same ones keeping them in their awful relationship. And there’s no way to tell who’s better off. It’s the same concept as people with straight hair what curly hair and people with curly hair are the opposite. You want what you can’t have. And oh man people are un-fucking-predictable. You never know what they are going to do or what they want or what they like so the only thing to do is wait and see. However I don’t wait...ever. Instead of waiting and putting myself out there, I automatically assume that they won’t like me. It’s easier that way. No rejection. No risk. And until I change my ways I’ll be single and I know that. So, yeah maybe I’ll be single for a while longer. I don’t have any great advice or anything like that. Keep trying, be yourself do all of that, there’s no right or wrong. Meanwhile I’m just gonna try to convince people to keep coming to the fucking zoo.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

episode fifteen // carcinogen

Welcome to another cheery episode. I was diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder in high school but, I have been surviving this nightmare for as long as I can remember. Often, people recognize OCD as being neat and tidy but, I’m here to tell you just because you like your pictures on the wall evenly spaced or you like to make your bed a certain way does not mean you have OCD. There are many people on the internet who get outraged when people say “I’m a little OCD” or use the acronym as something else like “Obsessive Cat Disorder.” I use to be ok with these phrases and let them roll off but as I get more familiar with my disorder and how intertwined it is with my life the more frustrated I get. I’m not some snowflake who gets upset when people say things that I disagree with. Most of the time I try my hardest to educate someone on my point of view and hear them out on why they think what they think but, when I’m in an OCD spiral and you tell me you like your notes to be color coded a certain way because you’re “a little OCD” be prepared for me to verbally smack you up the side of the head. The more people trivialize and commercialize this disorder, the more invalidating it is to people fighting with it everyday. It all comes down to lack of knowledge about the disorder. So, that’s why I’m here to tell you my most recent OCD story. My OCD makes me feel like I’m causing people’s cancer.

Now, I need to preface this by saying I know that it’s irrational you need not tell me, I know! But, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m drowning in guilt.

I found out a week ago that two of my coworkers whom I adore became seriously ill. For whatever reason I don’t feel comfortable with sharing the details of their illnesses, but I will share that both ended up being cancerous.

The way OCD works is that it often makes connections between two things that shouldn’t connect. Some people believe if they don’t flip the light switch on and off six times someone will get struck by lightning, others believe if they don’t wear a specific pair of socks their house will catch on fire. Very superstitious I know but, often these compulsive behaviors come about because of a traumatic event. For example for the kid with fire preventing socks, it could be he wore different socks and there was a house fire so the next day he wore the special socks and no fire happened. Was it by chance or because of the socks? People with OCD often don’t want to take the risk. They find the link and it becomes iron clad so they continually do the compulsion as to reduce the stress. If I’m being completely honest, OCD is a pretty self centered disorder. We think we have all this power to do harm to those around us. It’s pretty astounding actually because most people I’ve met with OCD have low self-esteem.

So anyway, how does this relate to me being a carcinogen? Well, four years ago my best friend passed away from cancer. There was no compulsion involved but, I have never been able to escape this guilty feeling since. One of my coworkers has a similar type of cancer to what my friend had four years ago. And originally we believed my second coworker had some kind of lung cancer and my mom had that before I was born. It turns out though it’s a different kind of cancer, and my mother’s best friend had the same one. So, it seems ridiculous, but I feel I’m the common denominator regarding all of these people and their cancers. I have been racking my brain trying to figure out what compulsion could fix this, could fix me. What compulsive behavior could prevent me from being this cancer causing demon. It keeps me up at night, it makes me want to die. This is OCD. Crying because you’re crazy and also hating yourself because you’re brain is telling you that you’re just making it all about you. It’s an endless cycle. But, at the end of the day it’s probably my coping mechanism. I can’t save anyone but it’s so hard to grasp the concept that you are worthless and helpless to people you care about. It may be easier for my brain to believe that you have power over the situation even if it’s negative then to feel the hopelessness you feel when you see someone you love and care about suffering. I’m not sure. But, just talking it out and trying to reason with it is exhausting. I’m exhausted and I’m scared.

OCD is so much more then organizing your skittles into rainbow order. It’s an arduous battle that I fight as soon as I wake up until I fall asleep. I’m not trying to make this become a woe is me thing, I already hate myself for writing this post for that reason. No, I’m writing this so that next time before you say “I’m a little OCD” about using only one color pen in your notes for biology, you remember the weight those three letters really hold.

Sincerely,

Your Strong Female Lead

episode fourteen // rebranding

With everything that’s happened just in the past two weeks I’ve discovered something. I’ve become a supporting character in my own life. Doing things for others and putting myself on the line for people who don’t give a shit about what happens to me next. I’m over it and not in the high school way where you say that and then talk about it for like three weeks. I’m refusing to become an accessory to this plot line.

It’s time for some rebranding

Ok so I’m not brave enough to lose the anonymity of this blog and I’m still hiding behind a pseudonym. But, I want to be less of someone that hides behind green glasses (I wear contacts more anyway) and more of someone who takes control of their story. So here I present to you a brand new experience. A place I can come and be myself and tell my stories the way I was meant to. And if you join me on this journey and choose to follow well then hi...

I’m your strong female lead

episode thirteen // vague

If you are vague, my OCD will fill in the blanks for you and most of the time it fills them with my deepest fears and insecurities. So, please don’t be vague.

What I wish I could tell my friends without sounding like a poorly adjusted nut job. In therapy they say to ask for what you need from someone, be direct. But, doing that usually ends in me getting a look from the other person that makes me experience the discomfort that I’m trying to avoid by being direct. In the real world few people are direct. We use metaphors and extravagant words instead of simply just saying how we’re feeling or what we need. I often get lost in the fluff that people add to their sentences. I have trouble differentiating between what details are important and what are not. And on the other side if you lack in detail and are vague my mind twists every word and turns them against me. So I’m just going to need everyone to just get straight to the point and be completely clear is that okay with all of you? A ridiculous request, I know! But, it’s harder than you think. Excessive use of words and the lack of words can both be used as a defense mechanism. I am usually an over explainer. I think that if I leave any detail out you will not get the full context of what I’m saying and therefore judge the situation wrong and either think poorly about any of the characters in the story, me, or simply give me poor advice about the situation. I hide behind humor and shock factor because it’s easier for me to get validation from someone smiling at my joke then to bare my soul and get empathy. So, when my friends are vague I cannot blame them. Yes, it causes me emotional turmoil but you are trying to relieve your own so I understand. But, please don’t bite my head off for asking for clarification...

-the girl with the green glasses