I hate how tied I am to my meds. I had a whole panic-attack-tirade of a blog post that my phone accidentally deleted, as my mood spiralled out of control. And then suddenly I remembered I hadn't taken a full dose of one of my meds that I needed a refill on, and just like that I snapped out of it. I got off the couch (I couldn't muster the energy to get off the couch for the most of the day), knowing there was a way out of this terrible mood. Call it a placebo effect or whatever since I hadn't even taken the pills yet, let alone have enough time pass for the pills to absorb, but it worked. It was probably simply the knowledge of there was a way out. Sigh.

My first encounter with fatshion.

So, yeah. I have a great relationship with my family. ...well, I have in the past. I mean, it's still DEFINITELY in good standing, but... I guess it's changing. Because of, well, change. Specifically I'm changing. Hopefully for the better. Well, I think so, at least.
I've changed my hairstyle fairly drastically, gotten facial piercings, and am learning self-worth and -love. That'll be a long road. Especially since yesterday I dressed up in fatshion for the very first time--wearing something I never would have before, and it didn't go as well as I'd hoped. (Fatshion, to my understanding, is when fat people wear whatever the fuck they want, despite popular local culture/society/whatever you want to call it saying, however strongly or subtly, that "you shouldn't be wearing that", whether out of fatphobia, their own E.D. (Eating Disorder), or misguided/ignorant "politeness".) Anyway, I was feeling pretty fabulous. I even went to the food court in the mall when I had to waste some time in between appointments. I ate some food, even. Not much, but still. And I kept feeling fabulous... until I saw my Mom for the first time that day. When I got in the car (we were going grocery shopping), the first thing she said was, hesitantly, "Interesting", but with a slight question mark at the end. I was devastated. And just like that! I went from Fabulous to Fat POS with one word. Sigh. She did apologize, saying "it's not ok" when I said "it's ok", so there's that. And it was her first time seeing me like that
And just like that I'm apologizing for her. I just... we have a complicated relationship, to say the least. She's my best friend, but still my mother. It obviously should change, and soon, but I have a feeling this might take longer than I'd like. Like everything else.

Yesterday

Yesterday there was a small gathering with some of my family, and I had been up late the night before probably knowing what was coming the next day. Now, don't get me wrong, the part of my family that came yesterday are my favorites--I love ALL my family dearly, but around these particular ones I don't feel like I have to walk on eggshells around. Well, not as large or sharp eggshells. I also knew this would be the first time I saw them since I got my new piercings. I got snakebites, which aren't all that subtle. I posted a couple pictures of my face on a popular social networking site that they're all on, with a comment that they can get used to them now before being caught off guard the next time I see them. Now I realize I was pretty much apologizing for the way I look, which nobody should ever do, and which also feeds in to my mental health insecurities, so to speak. I feel like I have to be "normal"--not look "mentally ill", like I didn't get them during a manic phase, or when I was "acting crazy"--basically getting their stamp of approval.
(Which, by the way, in my first blog post I made it sound like it's not good to be different i.e. crazy, abnormal, a freak etc., which are all things to be *proud* of--WEAR YOUR FREAK FLAG HIGH!  Which I do know is definitely easier said than done, and am myself still working on. Anyone that's different, whether POC, neurodivergent, disabled, fat (to me, being a fat person myself, I identify as fat, and don't mean it in an offensive way), LGBT*, etc.--ANYONE that's discriminated against--should never apologize for their differences.)
Which brings me back to the family gathering--I wasn't sure if they'd bring up my piercings or not, whether I would have to be apologetic or whatever to seem "normal" and "not crazy". They acted like nothing was different. That nothing obvious had changed about my appearance, which definitely had. I didn't know how to feel about this. At first I was grateful because I wasn't sure how to approach the conversation. But now... that's not how I feel now. (Mini family history lesson: I was always taught to say, "I'm fine," even and especially when I wasn't--talking about difficult feelings was definitely off-limits, and when I tried to in a big family setting someone would start talking over me. Especially my Grandma, may she rest in peace. I now HATE it when someone does that. Right now I'm at the point where I just walk away and don't apologize, but I'm hoping to be able to speak up and speak my mind someday.) I don't know if they were just acting that way to make me feel like I'm the same person I always have been, or if they already had the conversation with my Mom--without me--before I got there. Which really bothers me. Like I'm not sane enough or able to hold a serious conversation. Of course I don't know that for sure, but it definitely wouldn't surprise me. They've done it before with other people when they weren't around. Anyway, when they were leaving one of them came up to me and whispered in my ear, "You're looking good." Which in short with my family with my past means I don't look crazy. I smiled and said thank you, despite being really angry. I know she did it to make me feel like I'm improving or something, but seriously. Now that I'm getting out of my depression fog and learning up on neurotypical privilege, I know that I should speak up for myself and let her know what she's saying, despite her good intentions, are out of ignorance. I do know they all love me dearly, as I do them, but it doesn't mean I can't stand up for myself and let her/them know what they're saying is offensive. I mean, shit. I know this will take awhile, letting them know when they're being offensive. I won't do it all at once, just little things at a time--to say they're set in their ways is putting it lightly. I mean I still have to come out to them! But if I can't be myself around the people I love most, who then?

Can't sleep Part 2

Ugh. Just... ugh. This is the first night without (my prescribed) Ambien. I don't feel weird* at all, just completely awake. Which sucks because I have to get up early tomorrow. Well, today. :/

I started taking Ambien in the first place because of my night terrors. Watching your family (I love mine dearly, especially my brother--I'm very... protective of him. There's a story behind that, which I'll save for another time) die in gruesome ways every night gets a little old. So I asked my psychiatrist what he thought, and he told me that he thought Ambien might work. It did. ...For awhile. Then I started feeling weird and super drowsy during the day, so we started to ween off of it. Sigh. Well, I'll try going to bed one last time. 'Night.

*"Weird", when referring to how I feel, is basically my blanket term for feeling uneasy for whatever reason, whether it be anxiety, feeling triggered by something known or unknown, drug side effects related/my meds being off whether not taken on time or not the right ones/no longer working, or something else in my subconscious. I use it when I don't know how else to describe how I'm feeling.

Can't sleep, so obviously I should blog.

Ok, here goes nothing:
My name is Betsy, I'm 26 years old, bisexual, and have been diagnosed with type 2 Bipolar Disorder, PTSD, Panic Disorder, am a recovering self-harmer, amongst other things. I receive SSI Disability benefits because of these things that pretty much completely incapacitate me, keeping me from working or going to school.
This blog will be about my life, in a nutshell. I won't divulge everything, but I will share more than I thought I ever thought I would on the interwebs. I will become one of those people I would make fun of, that I'd say, "Get a journal!" But now I'm starting to realize how powerful blogs can be. I doubt mine will be and will probably just end up being therapeutic for myself. But if I can let one person know they're not alone or abnormal or crazy or a freak or a leech, then it'll be more than worth it.
Hopefully we can all learn something along the way. :)

Disclaimer: I use emoticons. And some chatspeakish words. Like FEELS and I CAN'T. I didn't in this blog post so I don't seem completely incapable of speaking the English language.

An fyi: UPDATED

I'm considering starting up this blog again, but about Serious Things this time. And Not So Serious Things. And a lot more frequently. Stay tuned! Or not.

UPDATE: I will be tweaking the blog on and off until I'm satisfied with it, so don't be surprised if the url or blog title/description change, sometimes frequently.