Let’s Talk Classism in Plus-Size Clothing

Source: Let’s Talk Classism in Plus-Size Clothing

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Suicide

I just read this post on Black Girl Nerds  about the recent suicide of activist  Marshawn McCarrel .  It makes some very good points about how our society fails to really address suicide as part of mental health issues.

Anyway, please go read it.  And remember, you are not alone.  You are loved.

  • Depression Hotline:1-630-482-9696
  • Suicide Hotline:1-800-784-8433
  • LifeLine:1-800-273-8255
  • Trevor Project (LGBTQ Help Line):1-866-488-7386
  • Sexuality Support: 1-800-246-7743
  • Eating Disorders Hotline: 1-847-831-3438
  • Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673
  • Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272
  • Runaway:1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000
  • Exhale (After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice): 1-866-4394

Why I Blog, Reason #165

On his blog, speculative fiction writer  Jim Hines who also suffers from depression, talks about a concern troll he picked up recently.  This random person on twitter seemed very interested in how well Mr Hines functioned due to his head meds.  ~eye roll~

There are still so many myths and misunderstandings out there about mental health and the treatment of mental health.  So many myths and such ignorance about the effects of medications.  Mr Hines does a fine job on his blog discussing some of those issues.

I know that would be non-functional without my anti-depressant medication.  Or my thyroid medication. Or my blood pressure medication.  It’s a trade off of side effects vs being able to live as healthfully as possible.

Trust me, those of us on medications communicate with our health care providers about these issues.  So do not be concerned about our functionality.  We’ve got this.

 

Cycling between hope and sadness

Ugh.  Rough few days.  My partner has gotten a lot of pings about jobs here and elsewhere.  One or two that would mean moving home.  Home is where I really want to be and starting to think that it is where I *need* to be.  At least for a while to give myself time to heal.

So, hearing about various jobs has been left me exhausted from a roller coaster of emotions.  One of the jobs is a really good fit and it would put me within easy driving distance of home and many, many friends and family.  However, my partner seems to thrive out there in tech geek central.   Pings about jobs here that wouldn’t require relocation are coming in.  Interviews are happening.  My heart is torn.

I hate it here. I hate the crowds and the traffic and I hate this house.   I haven’t made many irl friends.  I don’t feel settled even after being here over a year.  Long ago, I discovered with the help of a therapist, that I have to put down roots and make connections. It is vital to my mental health to feel part of a community.  I created my own or joined communities in the various places that we’ve lived.  Here, it seems crowded with a wide variety of geek groups and I thought I could join a few.  However, leaving the house to attend anything is often beyond me.  The traffic is so horrific to me.

Anyway, I need to figure out a way to feel connected to this place or I need to go home. It’s been nearly two decades.  I think it is time.

In the grinder

Life keeps being interesting.  After being out of work for a week due to the acute asthma and treatment with prednisone, I was back this week.  Thursday, my partner was let go from his job.  I flipped but on the inside (see: pretending to be a functional human being).  I kept it together enough to finish my work day.  I was able to vent with a couple of friends.  He has enough of a severance package that we aren’t going to be homeless quite yet.   Plus he has skills and experience that are in demand.

I am hopeful something new will come along.  I’m just worried that it will take time we don’t have.  We are still recovering from a few difficult years so do not have a cushion. We both need continuing health care coverage so that is scary as well.  There will be a gap unless COBRA has gotten less expensive with the ACA which I doubt.

I am trying to keep hope. My partner would be a huge asset to any company.  It’s just a matter of convincing him of that fact.  And then getting his foot in the door somewhere.  I don’t even care if we have to move again.  Heck, going back to NC would be a boon for me.  I have a real in-person support system there.   I don’t see us going back to AZ but that too would be fine with me.   He has been thriving here so here is where the job search will focus.  I will cope.  I have to.

 

How Depression works for me

There seems to be a persistent myth that depressed people are doom & gloom all the time.  But we aren’t.  For me it starts with a baseline emotional state  that is low or less happy/up than others.  If that makes any sense.    On top of that,  I have a negative sense of worth exacerbated by a soundtrack of sorts that runs through my head telling me what an awful person I am.  I actually call them brain weasels running around in there.  One of my partners calls his monkeys.

Anyway, when I cannot counter the negativity, I fall into a more lower emotional state.  That is when I have to use my tools: sunlight, exercise, good friends, blogging to bring perspective.

The past few days, I’ve had a larger load than usual of the negativity from grief, monetary worries, job worries and the like.  I make it worse because I fret about things that are beyond my control.  I try to counter that tendency by focusing on the positive in my life.  Honestly, I have many amazing wonderful things in my life.  I am unable to fully enjoy those because of my wacky brain chemistry on top of my self esteem issues.

I am capable of feeling happy and even optimistic.  My key focus word is hope.  I try to hold on to it even when I am experiencing the worst of my brain malfunction.  As I sort through the lies (and let me tell you, Depression LIES) and seek perspective, I look for the hope that I know is there.  Writing out my feelings really helps.  Reaching out to friends and being reassured helps immensely.  The reaching out is so difficult when that soundtrack of self doubt is playing so loudly in the back of my mind.  But I have such caring, loving friends who I’ve come to understand really do not feel bothered by offering me a kind word or hug when I need one or ask for one.

Having such quality friends must mean that I’m not nearly as unworthy or awful a person and the brain weasels would have me believe!

So I am pulling out of the grim dark of the past few days.  I really wish I could commission a picture of me wrestling my brain weasels!

How do you picture your inner conflict?