Attack of the Sugar Monster!

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 19:07:00 +0000

So, I've been meaner lately. No, not meaner. Just, less likely to take shit. And you know...it feels pretty awesome! I had no idea! I'm not letting myself be belittled or pushed around anymore and it feels incredible! Hello, backbone, it's awfully nice to meet you!

I talked to some lawyers re: bankruptcy. Lawyer #1 made me feel immediately at ease.

Me: I'm really nervous.
Lawyer: Why are you nervous?
Me: I'm just afraid you're going to look at my paperwork and think I'm the most horrible and irresponsible person who ever lived.
Lawyer: I've been doing this 32 years and have never seen anything that surprised me. Some people are in this position because they make stupid decisions. But most? Things come up. People have medical bills. Cars break down. Jobs are lost. You help out family. You lend money to friends who never pay you back.

I almost started crying because that's exactly what happened. When I was filling out the paperwork I realized how many thousands of dollars were medical bills. Some of it was pure stupidity. But a lot of it was just life falling apart and shit coming up.

We talked for awhile. He says I'm the perfect candidate and it would be harmless once we filed. I asked him, “Okay, this may be a weird question but... If I go ahead with this, is there any way I can send you money as I have it? Because I know me; I'm not good having money in my possession!” And he said there absolutely was. We could easily set up a trust account for that very purpose.

I went to see Lawyer #2 for more advice and a price comparison. Ugh. He ended up scaring the shit out of me with completely false information. Thankfully I ran it by Lawyer #1 and Google, Esq and found out he was being completely inaccurate. Fucker.

So, I'm going with Lawyer #1. I basically need to come up with $1,000.

If you have any desire to buy sex toys or something from Shana Logic, using the links to your right would be incredibly helpful for me. As would using my Amazon Affiliate Link. I should make a button for that. Or, if you're interested in advertising, that'd be a huge help as well! I turned down advertising from a few weight loss websites but have applied for a few places I like so hopefully those go through soon.

I'm going to set up the trust account with his office and just chuck extra money at it whenever I can. My goal is to file by the end of the year. Fingers crossed!

My dating life is...interesting. I'll update you when I know what the hell is going on myself.

My pain has been really out of control lately. Getting back to exercising and doing my physical therapy regularly will help a lot, I'm sure.

I start DBT tomorrow. Since writing about it quite a few people have said that it changed/saved their lives. So I'm optimistic. Nervous but optimistic. I've decided that, even if it's difficult, I'm staying with it for a year. It's The Year of Heidi, damn it!

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Sun, 12 Feb 2012 22:41:00 +0000

I might have found a place to do some volunteer work. She was incredibly excited when I told her I'd been the office manager for a nonprofit in Los Angeles and that I'd done grant writing for several others. Apparently she desperately need some help in the office since all of her other volunteers are out in the field. It's an organization that provides advocacy for abused children in the court system. I meet with her tomorrow to see if it'll be a good fit.

Two bankruptcy consultations next week. Dreading but it's necessary. Sweet merciful Jesus, the paperwork! One of the consult packets alone was 53 pages! I just filled them out to the best of my ability. Credit reports are fucking complicated to understand when you have a shit ton of creditors. And fuck were there a lot of medical and hospital bills on there. Even back from when I had private insurance that shit was piling up. Sigh. Well, we'll see what happens. And how long it takes to save up to file.

I think I'm going to take more pictures. Nude and not. I really need to normalize my body to myself. And I think photographing it will help a lot. So expect to see some. Er, clothed, of course. I've said this before buy shyness and self loathing got the better of me. Time to fight that shit a little harder.

DBT

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 01:06:00 +0000

I met with my therapist today and explained to her the realization I had. In the past, all of my therapists have had me while I was in survival mode. I've never dealt with my parents or my childhood or my shitty relationships or my fucked up view of myself. And that's what I want to do. So we're going to work on that. She suggested that I start attending their DBT group. Even though it's for people with borderline personality disorder, she feels I could get a lot out of it.

Dialectical behavior therapy (DBT) is a system of therapy originally developed by Marsha M. Linehan, a psychology researcher at the University of Washington, to treat people with borderline personality disorder (BPD). DBT combines standard cognitive-behavioral techniques for emotion regulation and reality-testing with concepts of distress tolerance, acceptance, and mindful awareness largely derived from Buddhist meditative practice. … Research indicates that DBT also effective in treating patients who present varied symptoms and behaviors associated with spectrum mood disorders, including self-injury. Recent work suggests its effectiveness with sexual abuse survivors and chemical dependency.

My therapist and I will be meeting weekly again and I start DBT at the end of the month. I'm scared. New people. New things. But I'm going to go. I want to change. I don't want to depend on others for my self worth of happiness anymore. I want to live a life that makes me proud and fulfilled. I want to live a life that matters.

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 01:26:00 +0000

Do you know what my medication would cost me a month without insurance? $1,100. A month. Yeahhhhh. Good god, it costs a fortune to keep me functioning! You have no idea how much I appreciate Medicare. I'm thankful every time I take my drugs. Every single time. Sometimes, though, I wonder if it's worth it. If, based on a costs vs benefits analysis, my living would come out ahead. Yes, yes, anon, I know your thoughts on the matter. Hush.

I have consultations scheduled with two bankruptcy attorneys for this coming week. Which I find terrifying. I have no idea why. I guess because things are easier to ignore. La la la I don't see you! I can't actually afford bankruptcy but it'll be good to know what I'm saving towards.

I see my therapist tomorrow. I haven't seen her since before I went into the psych ward. I'm planning to start seeing her weekly and working on some of the shit in my past. This scares me but makes me hopeful.

A man I like very much – who lives in Atlanta – is, hopefully, coming to visit me at the end of the month. It'll make me very happy. And I like a happy Heidi!

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 03:05:00 +0000

Books Read in January
Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov
Pnin – Vladimir Nabokov
A Series of Unfortunate Events #1-13 – Lemony Snicket
American Gods – Neil Gaiman
Coraline – Neil Gaiman
The Colour of Magic – Terry Pratchett
The Girl Who Played with Fire – Stieg Larsson
The Graveyard Book – Neil Gaiman
A Storm of Swords – George RR Martin
Frankenstein – Mary Shelley (reread)
The Gunslinger – Stephen King (reread)
Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto – Chuck Klosterman

TV Discovered in January
Criminal Minds
Flight of the Conchords
The Mighty Boosh
Sherlock

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Sat, 28 Jan 2012 17:53:00 +0000

Totally qualified to sell my plasma! If I go twice a week (the max allowed), it'll bring in a decent chunk of change after gas expenses. I've gone three times so far and the waiting takes foreverrrrr and they're really lacking in finesse when it comes to jabbing the needles in but I can read and listen to my mp3 player so it's manageable. The random annoying thing is they don't want you to fall asleep during the removal so you're not allowed to keep your eyes closed. Which sucks because the shit would go by a lot faster if I was allowed to just close my eyes and listen to music.

I'm going to try to find somewhere to volunteer in that area. So the drive will be more of a two birds, one stone type thing.

I'm trying super hard to be more social. I've been isolating hard core for months but I'm trying to change that. I went out with a group of friends last night and it was awesome. And I had an amaaaazing makeout session last weekend. Amazing. Like, the best I've ever had. It was lovely. He and I have hung out a few times and I dig him so I'm hoping for a repeat session soon.

I saw my psychiatrist. I told her about my severe apathy and isolation. She upped both of my antidepressants so I have my fingers crossed.

Things are...alright. Like, I think I can do better and get shit together. I'm hopeful. I think it's going to be okay.

Updateyness

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 00:47:00 +0000

Group of little boys playing outside:
Several at once: I like your hair!
Boy 1: Do you have a boyfriend?
Boy 2: You look like Nicki Minaj!

Ha!

My landlady has lowered my rent a little and has said that we'll talk in a few months and, if she's doing better financially, she'll lower it a bit more. She really doesn't want me to leave. I got my internet lowered and switched to a cheaper phone plan. I go tomorrow to see if I qualify to sell plasma. Slowly chipping away! It'll be tight but I can make it. At least until summer when the power bill will shoot up. But I can work with that. And I'll keep looking for a new roommate.

I'm happy I don't have to move. I really want to create a home I love and I never feel able to do that if I don't feel stable.

My friend and I are working on What You Really Really Want together. And then will do Beautiful You: A Daily Guide to Radical Self-Acceptance after that. Self help buddies!

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 17:33:00 +0000

My exhaustion has been really bad. Worse than usual. In addition to heightened pain. It scares me. I don't know what's up. I'm apathetic, not interested in socializing, have trouble getting out of bed, and a few other shitty things that make me think my antidepressants aren't working so well. I see my psychiatrist at the end of the month so I'll see what she thinks. The depression is there and I fucking hate it. I just want to cry because I don't know what's wrong with me.

I haven't found a new roommate yet. Financially that's kinda dicking me. I made an appointment for next week to see if I qualify to sell plasma. That would help if it's do-able. We shall see. I'm taking a lot of iron and drinking a lot of water and am crossing my fingers!

I'm currently reading Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book and am loving it so much. And I finally watched Sherlock with Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman and holy god, it's so so so good! I need more episodes immediately!

Nothing much to update as I've been having trouble leaving the house, much less doing anything worth talking about. Hopefully my visit with the psychiatrist will help things.

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 19:50:00 +0000

Nothing makes me happy the way new hair does.

A dress I got for my birthday. I love it so much.

Things are...okay? My roommate is moving out this weekend and I've yet to find a replacement. Which really fucks me over financially. I talked to my landlady and she really wants me to stay. To the point that she's willing to lower the rent. We're supposed to talk in a couple of weeks (assuming I still haven't found a roommate) about how low she can go and whether or not I can afford to stay. My lease doesn't end until May so... Hopefully it works out.

I have so much to do but have no energy. I'm thinking I'm in the middle of a fibro flare due to that and the pain. Blech.

I've been reading a lot. Do you have a Good Reads account? If so, we should be friends!

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 20:51:00 +0000

I made this to be my desktop wallpaper.

Only you can define what self-care is for you. Only you know what makes you feel safe and secure and accepted and strong and lovely. Only you know what makes you feel alive.

Happy New Year

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 01:24:00 +0000

2011 was a hard year. It started out well but kind of rocketed into terrible by the end. Obviously I'll remember this year as the one when my mother died. And that alone is enough to write the year off as a disaster. Then add on the week and a half spent in the psych hospital....

But there was good too. You all sent me to California. And, because of that, I was able to hold my mom's hand one last time and say goodbye to her. I will never be able to find the words capable of expressing what that means to me. You gave me something that I will never be able to adequately thank you for.

You give me hope. You give me faith in myself. You give me strength. You make me believe I'm capable of more than I can imagine.

Thank you. I hope your next year is filled with excitement and adventure and love and joy and self acceptance.

Goals for 2012

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 00:43:00 +0000

SCHOOL

Attend Southern Union in fall

MENTAL HEALTH

Work on Feeling Good Handbook
Work on What You Really Really Want book
Deal with past in therapy – once a week at least
Take medications daily – do NOT let them run out
Work on loving myself more

PHYSICAL HEALTH

Continue with the Fat Nutritionist
Create and implement a food plan for healthier/saner eating
Create and implement an exercise plan
Physical therapy on a daily basis
New glasses

FINANCES

Find out about declaring bankruptcy

LIFE IN GENERAL

Begin volunteering
Visit a new state (0/1)
Read at least two books per month (0/24)

SELF-CARE

Get one tattoo (0/1)
Get one piercing (0/1)
Bleach and dye hair four times (0/4)

HOME

Clean out master bedroom
Clean out junk drawer
Clean out closet
Clean out kitchen
Clean out bathroom
Create a bedroom I love

SOCIAL LIFE

Create a list for an ideal partner
Stop dating/boning assholes

CODEPENDENCY

Say NO to sex when I don't want it
Ask for what I want in bed
Set some boundaries
Stop feeling so damn guilty about everything

A Letter #2

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 00:50:00 +0000

Dad:

I never called you that. Never. Did you notice? I just couldn't bring myself to taint that word by using it on you. Did you notice those times you forced me to say it how hard it was? How I spit it out like poison? You weren't a father, a dad, a daddy. You weren't the things I wanted.

Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. Fuck you for everything you ever did to me. I hate you. God, I fucking hate you.

You made me despise my body before I was old enough to read. You taught me how to make myself throw up after I ate and to hate myself when I got fat anyway. You said nobody would love me if I gained weight. And I believed you. You told me YOU wouldn't love me if I gained weight. And I believed you. I can never remember a time when I didn't hate myself and the way I looked. Never. My entire conscious memory is one filled with self-loathing. God, how I hate you for that.

You touched me. You molested me. You fucking molested me. I flinched every time you touched me, whether it was sexual or not. God, I hated your hands. You laughed. You laughed when you held me down in scalding water and listened to me scream. You laughed when I bled. Somehow it was all made worse by the fact that you were completely sober when you hurt me. That it wasn't a drunken rage. It was cold and calculated and you enjoyed every second of it.

For 10 years you touched me and when I finally asked the authorities for help you simply denied it and they believed you. I was just some crazy liar, looking for attention. I didn't even want you to get in trouble. I told them because I wanted therapy – because I thought of suicide every moment of every day. I just wanted help. Do you understand what I just said? You molested me for a decade and I still felt guilty when I told on you. I was terrified that something bad would happen to you. I should have been stronger. I should have been able to deal with this shit on my own. God forbid you be punished for what you did to me. For destroying me.

Men have terrified me my entire life. I avoided sex like the plague until I was in my 20s. I have trouble dating because I can't believe anyone would want to be with me. When I do date they tend to be assholes who use me or fuck me up in one way or another because that's all I think I deserve. I'm clingy and desperate because you taught me I had to earn love. I don't know how to take care of myself because you taught I don't deserve to. I have no boundaries because you ripped them down and burned them.

God, what did I do to make you hate me so much? You had to have hated me to have done what you did. I remember, a few years ago, you telling me you loved me. And I froze because I couldn't remember you ever having said that before. After a few seconds of silence I whispered, “I love you too.” And I realized I meant it. It had been years since you touched me and our relationship was...fine? Nothing more than saying hi as we passed in the hall but that was still the best it had ever been. It wasn't a lie. After everything you'd done to me, I realized I still felt love for you. It was simple and basic...the kind of love I have for strangers...but it still existed.

I never wanted you to be miserable. I used to wish I'd one day have the money to take care of you and mom. To buy you a house up north. To make sure you'd never have to worry again. I just wanted you to be happy. Something I never saw you be. The both of you were so unhappy and emotionally disturbed and I just wanted you to escape that.

Your death was the first time I ever felt safe. But I'm still sorry it happened. I remember every moment. Especially the smell of gunpowder. And the blood. God, why did you have to do it when I was in the next room? When you knew I'd be the one to find you. People say suicide is a selfish act. But I didn't see you as being selfish. I've been in that mindset too many times to hate you for following through. I'm sorry you felt that desperate. To some degree, I blame myself. As I always do. I think of the millions of ways things might have been different. But they're not and never will be. I'm sorry you felt that was the only way. And I'm sorry I found so much relief in your decision. But I did. I wasn't scared, for the first time in my life.

You killed yourself and I felt free.

But your death also meant the end of hope. Hope for a relationship with you. Hope that, one day, it would magically be all better. Hope that you'd suddenly become sane and healthy. Hope that you'd be proud of me and I'd be the daughter you wanted. Hope that you'd be the father I needed. But that was never going to happen. Alive or dead, nothing would change. If you lived to be a hundred, the past would never be erased.

You fucked me up in more ways than I can list. You made me broken and empty. You made me scared...so fucking scared. Of everything and everyone. But it's time to heal. You took my past and I can't let you have my future. I won't let you have my future.

Heidi

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 02:41:00 +0000

My friend summed things up really well for me:

I was catching up on some of your recent blog entries. I think your plan to start working on some deeper issues is a good one. This is just my observation, but it just seems like you've been pushed from crisis to crisis this past couple of years. And now that you're in a more secure position, in some respects, you can really work on some of the deeper stuff.

In 2007 i think it was, you had the WLS. Then quite soon after that you had the gigantic move of doom. You finally deal with all that crap and the hoarding issues and your crazy parents...then you lose your job. Then your father's suicide, then your mum got really bad, then finances imploding. You just have not caught a break in the last four fucking years. You were, and i think you still are, in survival mode.

...

Stability is something you never had as a child so it's something you crave now.

I think I’ve spent so long finding growth and strength as a result of pain and misery that I’ve forgotten that love and joy and ecstasy can be forms of empowerment. Maybe even more so than the sadness I’ve defined myself by.

A Letter #1

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 02:42:00 +0000

Dear Mama:

I hate you. I hate you for marrying him. I hate you for staying married to him. I hate you for knowing what he did to me and doing nothing. I hate you for allowing him to hurt me. I hate you for allowing him to touch me. I hate you for not protecting me. I hate you for lying and protecting him when I finally told the police what had been happening for the last 10 years. I hate you for telling social services that I “misunderstood” his hands on my body almost as much as I hate them for believing you. I hate you for lying for him. I hate you for telling me I was more important than him only to sell me out to the authorities. I hate you for taking the easy way out instead helping me. I hate you for telling me he was a good man until I came along. I hate you for telling me day in and day out how much you despised him and I hate you for staying with him anyway, no matter how often I begged you to leave and take me with you. I hate you for not caring enough to make an effort. I hate you for not coming to my high school graduation because you “didn't feel like it.” I hate you for forgetting my birthdays. I hate you for not even getting me a card the times you did remember. I hate you for hoarding. I hate you for making me live in filth. I hate you because I couldn't allow anyone in the house and constantly had to lie to my friends as to why. I hate you for never giving me a home I could feel calm and safe in. I hate you for screaming so loudly and so constantly that I swallow my own anger out of fear of becoming you. I hate you for making me so afraid to speak up and express myself. I hate you for teaching me to put myself last. I hate you for teaching me to never ask for or accept help. I hate you for making me so fucking codependent. I hate you for screaming at and belittling me constantly. I hate that I couldn't even accidentally knock over a glass of water without getting the full force of your wrath. I hate you for screaming so constantly that loud noises scare me and it took 20 years to stop flinching every time anyone touched me. I hate you for screaming at and hitting him because it made me pity and defend someone who destroyed me. I hate that when you found out I was making myself throw up in elementary school you simply told me to stop and never mentioned it again. I hate you for knowing he taught me how to shove my fingers down my throat and doing nothing about it. I hate you for telling me, at six, that I was the only reason you didn't kill yourself because it made me feel responsible for you for the rest of your life. I hate you for crying over his death when you knew all the horrible things he'd done to me. I hate you for mourning him when you'd spent my entire life wishing him dead.

Oh god, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for my anger. I'm sorry for my resentment. I'm sorry for your mental illness. I'm sorry you were depressed your entire life and never got help. I'm sorry you didn't think you were worth helping. I'm sorry you spent so many years wanting to die. I'm sorry you felt, for whatever reason, that you had to stay with him. I'm sorry you stayed at jobs where you weren't respected or appreciated. I'm sorry you were to afraid to go after what you wanted. I'm sorry you didn't think you were deserving of happiness. I'm sorry you had to deal with your husband committing suicide. I'm sorry you refused to talk to the therapists at the hospital, no matter how many times they tried. I'm sorry I had to leave you. I'm sorry you were alone. I'm sorry I couldn't afford to stay. I'm sorry I didn't call you more often. I'm sorry I couldn't hold you when you died. I'm sorry you hurt so badly for so long. I'm sorry your impending death scared me so much. I'm sorry I wasn't a better daughter. I'm sorry I didn't do more with my life. I'm sorry I didn't do anything to make you proud of. I'm sorry I couldn't save you.

I love you. I do. I love you for those moments that were sane and quiet and calm. I love you for all the books in the house. I love you for loving and accepting me when I came out. I love you for telling me you were proud of me even when I couldn't see why. I love you for the millions of times you helped me dye my hair even though you hated doing it. I love you for taking care of me physically when I couldn't take care of myself. I love you for having better intentions than your actions would show. I love you for teaching me how to give to others. I love you for thinking I was worth so much more than you were capable of giving me. I love you for loving me the best you could.

I need to forgive you.

I need to forgive myself.

Because I can't move forward until I let go of this anger and guilt that's weighed me down for decades.

And this? This is a start.

I love you,
Heidi

Change

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Sun, 11 Dec 2011 19:52:00 +0000

I hope, I hope, I hope.

While I was in the psych ward, it occurred to me that I've been in therapy for over five years and have yet to deal with my past. It's always been getting through the present. I never dealt with my childhood abuses, my shitty relationships with men, my dad's suicide, my boyfriend's suicide, my mom's death, my eating disorders, my lifelong self loathing... It's just about surviving the now instead of dealing with the shit that's causing my fucked up decisions and self hatred in the first place. And I want that to change. It's time.

But how does one do that? How does one fix their broken parts? I just don't know if therapy is enough. But it's all I have so I might as well get as much out of it as possible. I bought The Feeling Good Handbook awhile back because it was recommended to me by numerous therapists who suggested cognitive behavior therapy to help me.

I'm 33. It's time to create a life I want. A life I can be proud of. It's time I become a person I can be proud of. Someone emotionally/physically healthy and functioning. Someone I can love. And, maybe if I start, I can even learn to love myself along the way.

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 22:17:00 +0000

Even though it's way late, we have a winner for the autographed copy of What You Really Really Want!

Awhile back I went to Atlanta and got to spend some time with Pam and Laurah. It was awesome and the food was incredible.

Last night I went to Mel and Carter's for delicious food and tree decorating.

I'm going to try to be more social. I am, I am, I am. I turn 33 tomorrow and that's one of my goals for the year.

Release

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Fri, 02 Dec 2011 23:59:00 +0000

So. I'm free. As I said, I checked myself into a psych ward just before Thanksgiving. I...I wasn't doing well.

I have to tell you, the psych hospital I was in a few years ago? Was the fucking PLAZA, by comparison. The previous hospital was like a goddamn vacation. This recent place was hard-core, maximum-security lockdown. No shoelaces, no pens, no plastic knives. No floss! No pencils without supervision! We were allowed so little that I couldn't help but frequently spend my time playing the game: What Could I Use in This Room to Hurt Myself or Others?

I was the only person there of my own volition. Everyone else had been put there by the courts, either brought in by their families or the police. The first act of physical violence happened soon after I got there. I was the only one not schizophrenic. You think there'd be some variety of crazy but nope. Schizophrenic, every last one of them. Do you know how to cause pandemonium? Tell a room full of schizophrenics that their hallucinations and delusions aren't real. One of the therapists led a group explaining/defining schizophrenia and it erupted into complete chaos! Also, oddly, most of the patients were crack addicts/users.

Towards the end of my stay, my roommate – who I thought was simply depressed – had a complete schizophrenic breakdown and proceeded to keep me up all night talking to herself, screaming, throwing things, threatening to kill people, seeing the devil, hearing god speak to her... At that point, I wanted the fuck out. It was bad enough when she was just a racist homophobe who wanted to bring me to Jesus but at least she was quiet when she was in the room!

The time there was just...man. It was so loud and so bright that I could barely stand it. It made me panicky as fuck. Once the meds canceled out my desire to self harm/commit suicide, being there just made me anxious, frustrated, and pissed off. And, oh god, bored. Even with three group sessions a day plus some activities, most of my time was spent watching crappy TV. I did read some, though...that was nice.

Therapists mentioned prayer and Christianity. The group “therapy” sessions were pretty pointless the majority of the time. I only had individual therapy twice the entire time I was there. I was told to simply “love myself.” And I just wanted to scream, “OH MY FUCKING GOD! I NEED BETTER DRUGS AND ACTUAL THERAPY, NOT PRAYER AND PLATITUDES!!!” I wanted to leave so badly after the first few days but stayed because I knew I wasn't ready to go – I would just end up back at home, in bed, sobbing and wanting to die. I wasn't willing to risk that so I stayed, as miserable as I was.

I was released today. They said, initially, I'd probably have to stay at least two weeks. Which would have meant being there on my birthday and I just did not want that to happen. So I'm really grateful that they saw my progress and let me go early. I mean, even if I do nothing on my birthday, it's better than doing nothing in a goddamn psych ward!

All the bad shit aside, I actually am glad I went. It was hard and exhausting and stressful but I was in a bad place that probably would have ended horribly. And my new meds are working well. And I cried a lot. And I was safe. And I realized I desperately need to deal with a lot of shit in my past. So I'm going to make a list and bring it to my therapist.

Speaking of lists, I need to make another one. I really need to figure out what I'm going to do now that I'm home. Aside from trying to make sure I never have to go back.

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 20:45:00 +0000

I checked myself into the psychiatric ward just before Thanksgiving. I'm currently on a 24-hour pass. I should be released tomorrow or the next day. Just letting you know I'm still alive and am doing better. Tweaking/upping my meds seems to have helped a lot. I'll update you more in a few days.

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 08:53:00 +0000

I'm still alive and kicking. I feel better. Ish. Very ish. The suicidal/self harm desires are still there but not to the same extreme. My therapist and I talked. She says I don't know how to experience pain without becoming suicidal and she's absolutely right. All the beds in their psych ward are taken. But if it gets as bad as it was the last few days, I'll just go to the ER...as miserable as that promises to be.

I just...I didn't think grief would feel like this. I didn't think it would hurt so much. I thought grief is what I'd been feeling the last couple of years and I'd feel mostly relief when she finally let go. I didn't expect this crippling pain. I didn't expect this depression spiral to go so deep. I didn't expect this. I guess you never can.

Thank you. For your love. Your support. Everything.

Breaking

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 15:27:00 +0000

Saturday night it hit me.

My mom is dead.

I spent most of a two hour drive home crying and screaming at the top of my lungs. I felt so empty and alone. It really was a bad night and I have no idea what triggered the realization but it hit and it hit hard. I've been in bed for two days, crying. I don't know how to handle this. Is this grief or depression? I don't know what's normal.

The flip-flopping between emotions is so exhausting.

I'm trying so hard. But failing so badly. Please don't hate me for being weak.

Heathen

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Sat, 19 Nov 2011 01:42:00 +0000

God, you guys, I'm awash with vitamins! Thank you so much!!! I won't have to worry about it for months and that is such a weight off. Thank you so so so much.

RE: OKCupid
Me: I never know if I should even bother contacting the Jesus-y ones. Christian is one thing the ones who list “Christianity - and SERIOUS about it.” Or the Bible as their favorite book.
Sarra: I wouldn't. I mean, what could come out of it? You're a godless heathen fuck machine.
Sarra: Put THAT in your profile.

Tomorrow I get to see Pam and Laurah! See, I'm trying to social. And after our dinner at Holy Taco (I dare you to look at the menu and not touch yourself) I'm heading to a play party with a kink group I've never been to before. So that's making me nervous. But I'll know one person; a very sweet man I'm very interested in who I can't wait to see again.

I biked for an hour yesterday. I painted my nails and used a body scrub. I changed the quote written on my mirror.

Caring for myself is not self-indulgence. It is self-preservation and that is an act of political warfare. - Audre Lorde

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Fri, 18 Nov 2011 10:18:00 +0000

1. John Waters is Simply Divine 2. Turtle Bike Bell 3. Opened Ziploc Baggie Bowl
4. Kitten Plugs 5. Watermelon Lace Party Dress 6. Erlenmyer Flask & Test Tubes Necklace
7. Bad Day on the High Seas paint by numbers 8. Ron Swanson Keychain 9. Sweet Tooth T-Shirt
10. Cuckoo Clock Brooch 11. Dayman: Fighter of the Nightman T-Shirt 12. 8-Bit Holiday Wreath

Fuck Shame with Jaclyn Friedman

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Wed, 16 Nov 2011 12:45:00 +0000

I talk with Jaclyn Friedman – author of What You Really Really Want: The Smart Girl's Shame-Free Guide to Sex and Safety and editor of Yes Means Yes!: Visions of Female Sexual Power and A World Without Rape – about kink, porn, boundaries, pubic hair, and the fucking of shame.

Fuck Shame with Jaclyn Friedman on vimeo,

[This post is a stop in Jaclyn’s blog tour about her new book, What You Really Really Want: The Smart Girl’s Shame-Free Guide to Sex and Safety. Be sure to check out yesterday’s stop at Yes Means Yes and her next stop tomorrow at Our Bodies, Our Blog.]

For my participation, I received two autographed copies of the book. And one of them is going to be yours!

In this empowering, accessible guide, Jaclyn Friedman—co-editor of Yes Means Yes—gives young women the tools to decipher the modern world’s confusing, hypersexualized, sometimes dangerous landscape so they can define their own sexual identity. Friedman decries the hypocrisy and mixed messages of our culture (we’re failures if we don’t act sexy, but we’re sluts if we actually pursue sex; we need to be protected from rapists lurking in bushes, but deserve “whatever we get” if we have a drink at a party and wear a skirt), and encourages readers to separate fear from fact, decode the damaging messages all around them, and discover a healthy personal sexuality.

Educational and interactive, What You Really Really Want includes revealing quizzes, creative exercises, and reality-based advice about sex and sexuality today. With Friedman’s informed advice to guide them, readers will build new skills for safely expressing their sexuality with lovers and explore effective ways to talk about tricky issues with family and friends—and learn how to make the world a little safer for everyone else’s sexuality along the way.

How to Enter
♥ Leave a comment telling me what you're hoping to get out of this book.

Additional Entries
♥ Post about this giveaway on your blog/website/facebook/tumblr/etc. You get one entry for each post you make. Limit one per site.

♥ Tweet about it! Limit one tweet per day for three days.

Specifics
♥ Make sure you include your email address in all entries.

♥ Create a separate comment for every one of your entries. Example: you post about it on facebook and tweet it three times. That means you need to make four comments on here, linking to each one. I'll be using a random number generator so if they're all batched together in one comment, they'll only count as one. Make sense?

♥ This contest is open to everyone, anywhere and will be shipped from me.

♥ This contest will end Wednesday November 23rd at midnight EST.

♥ Good luck!

If you don't want to risk not having this amazing book in your life you can go buy your own copy of What You Really Really Want: The Smart Girl's Shame-Free Guide to Sex and Safety! And, while you're at it, get Yes Means Yes!: Visions of Female Sexual Power and A World Without Rape! For yourself and others in your life!

Thank you, Jaclyn, for an awesome experience!

A Day in Atlanta

noreply@blogger.com (Heidi) — Sun, 13 Nov 2011 20:01:00 +0000

I had big plans this weekend! And then had the crushing realization that I'd taken on more than I can manage. But first the good!

After getting totally lost and having to have a concierge direct me to the hotel, I met Michaela!!!

She was in Atlanta with the National Women's Studies Association's annual conference. We ate lunch, we wandered around the hotel, we hung out in her room, she snuck me into a panel on fat studies she was moderating where I ran into none other than Hanne Blank; whose book signing I was attending in a few hours.

Knowing me and my shyness all too well, Michaela said, “Heidi! Have you introduced yourself to Hanne yer!?” Ducking my head, I squeaked, “No...” She remembered the video I made in praise of Big, Big Love so that made me happy. She was so awesome and bad ass and nice that it just delighted me. I was all swoony.

The panel was really interesting and I'm really thinking about trying to go to the conference next year. It'll be held in Oakland and I have so many people in that area that I need/want to visit. ½ a dozen off the top of my head! Maybe I can make that happen. We shall see.

A few hours later we were all going to the Big, Big Love signing. The group was taking a cab and I was driving myself because I had dinner plans straight afterward. I got so unbelievably hella lost in downtown Atlanta. I was so late and my joint pain was so out of control (and oh my god my shoe was making it feel like my right pinky toe was about to fall off) and I'd already met Ms Hanne earlier that I just decided to give up. Michaela was nice enough to say yes when I begged her to get a book signed for me. Did I tell you I loved Michaela? Because I totally did. She's so sweet and smart and inspiring and knowledgeable and welcoming! I tend to get really nervous around new people and shut down/not speak but I felt comfortable with her immediately. I was reserved still, of course, but nowhere near crazy-shy Heidi!

Then I headed on an hour drive further outside of Atlanta and (say it with me) got lost again. But, luckily, the friend of a friend I was meeting was able to direct me to his house. He made me the best steak I've ever had. Ever. As well as grilled Portabello mushrooms and zucchini and mashed acorn squash.

It was after 1am before our conversation and ass whoopin' ended. I took some Ambien and collapsed in his guest room for a few hours. I woke around 5 and got up around 7 and, having been told to help myself to anything in the fridge I had steak and mashed squash for breakfast. Oh, hells yes, I sure did! Headed home a few hours later.

By the time I got home, around noon, I was hurting so fucking badly. Not from the beating but from the conference walking and chairs and from that stupid toe-squashing shoe and general fibro and back/hip pain. And the two+ hour car ride felt like a million.

I was supposed to go to dinner with a friend and then to a kink party and hour+ away but I was so tired and so sick of driving and so sore that I canceled on both and just snuggled in bed in sweats and didn't regret a single second of my sloth! I'm realizing that, right now, I can manage one day of activity in a weekend. Two is just impossible for me. And that's okay...I just need to plan better. And not beat myself up for having limits. Which I do, constantly. I would never think less of someone else for skipping something because they could barely stand yet I do of myself. It's ridiculous.

I'm sad I didn't get a geeky picture with Hanne Blank but there's always next time!

So that was my weekend. And in just a few hours I'll be doing something that will be posted on here Wednesday. I'm really excited about it.

Next weekend I have one day/night of fun planned so I think I can handle it! And I will wear different shoes. And I will make out with someone awesome, damn it!