What Are You Deserving Of?

I’ve read and chatted w too many people who think they’re unworthy of something bigger than what they’ve settled for. I have three words for you all THAT’S BULL SHIT!

And I never settle for less than what I’m worth. Why do you???

Ash,

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Swirl 6

IMG_3993After a year on the reservation, my mom and grandparents went to their own places.  I moved with her to Belleville where my job was as well.

It came to be known very quickly that medicine doesn’t work easily on me.  I was told I have a very bad resistance to medicine.  Every time the doctor would try a new antidepressant, it would half ass work, she’d up it, and it wouldn’t do anything for me anymore.  She was trying to find a medication to help me sleep as well, and they never worked, so after two years of fighting to find something for me, we both decided to give up on the sleeping pills…

I have always been and still continue to be, a night person.  My parents put a black and white tv in my room when I was little, and I’d watch the French music station bc it was the only one still on all night long with aerial (yes I was raised in the country).  In high school, I’d stay up all night listening to punk music and writing newspaper styled letters to my hippy friend Jess, and creep her out by drawing anarchy symbols all over it.  She would send me peace signs lol.

I had been living at home still, and my health had been getting significantly worse.  I could no longer go for big walks like I was used to.  Dancing was out, and so was going out and partying with friends.  I started putting on weight.  Eventually I was down to working two hours a week, and decided then and there, it was time to go on disability.

One day I was looking for a cord.  I was taking a class online, and needed a cord to hear the lecture.  I couldn’t find it.  By then my sister had moved back home, and thankfully she did, bc my adrenalin kicked in for the last time.  I grabbed my VCR and threw it across the room at the wall.  Somehow it lived.  I went up to my room and started trashing it, and ripping everything apart.  I couldn’t get it to stop.  There was only one way in my messed up brain that made me think I could calm myself down.

I went downstairs, grabbed a knife, came back up and laid in bed with the knife to my wrist.  I sat there still, trying to decide whether I was going to do this again.  My mom’s little dog Winnie, that we had been given from an abusive situation, adored me.  She had been through so much, and I worked my ass off with her to make her feel safe, and be trained.  She jumped in the bed, and started screaming.  I tried to ignore her, but she was right in my face, and eventually I sat the knife down, held her, and called my sister once more.

She called my counselor who had to legally send me to the hospital.  I went, and I started to panic.  I didn’t want them thinking I was actually going to do anything, but just wanted immediate at that moment help.  Well that wasn’t the case.  I got locked up in the psych ward.  I waited.. and waited… and then asked if I could go out to the courtyard for a cigarette.  I took off lol.  I literally spent about 15 mins trying to figure out how to get out of the hospital, and then just started walking.  I made it half way home and called my mom to tell her what I did.

By that point, it’s the middle of the night, and the hospital knew I had taken off, and were threatening to call the police to come find me.  My mom came and got me, and drove me back.  So even more reason to keep me right?  They actually let me sign myself out, and go home.  I knew I was safe, and sure as fuck felt a lot safer at home than there, but that wasn’t the case.

My mom was to be in charge of giving me my medicine… which bc I was physically ill as well, consists of a lot of dispensing.  It lasted one day, until she just gave up and told me where they were.

I was referred to the Mayo Clinic in Toronto for a second opinion on my depression.  The young guy there, who wasn’t much older than I was, nailed it.  He found a medication that was known for causing horrible problems for everyone else, but it ended up being the one that saved my life.  Much better than being drugged out of Lorazepam like a robot.

I made significant changes in my life, and moved out on my own once my disability started, and did everything my counselor asked me to.  Even if I didn’t think it would work.  I did the group therapy, I had the college students come as extra support, I went to all my doctors appointments.  I was starting to feel like my old self was coming back.

One issue was that I just kept fainting every where I went.  I wouldn’t know it was going to happen and boom I’d wake up on the floor.  after complaining to my Crohn’s specialists about this and them noticing I had a heart murmur.  They decided they were going to have it double checked.

That’s when Dysautonomia walked into my life and changed everything.

As a side note, I am going through a flare with my Crohn’s Disease right now.  I have already lost 25 lbs in a short while, as well as excruciating pain through my joints, back and belly.  So bear with me being randomly gone for days on end.  If you’re truly wondering how I am coping, just ask!  I’m an open book.  

Ash,

PS For more info on what Dysautonomia is, or POTS, check out the tabs in this blog for loads of information.

Swirl 5

depressionI’m starting to detest these fucking things, but I’m finishing it… even if it takes a couple Tylenol 3’s to get through it.

I swore I was getting better.  I was so healthy in fact, I went right back to working way too much, and just kept having relapses.  Go me!  The Spring after I was diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease, my parents split.

This sucked bc it made me feel pinned between my parents.  I missed not seeing my dad terribly, and he wasn’t happy.  My sister stayed  with my dad, and I went with my mom.

Thankfully though, this was the best thing for our family.  My mom became a strong independent woman, and my dad and I became really close. Thanks in part to my wonderful step mom, Lois.

We moved every year.  I mean literally every year, or less.  In the short time frame of 4 years, I had lived in 8 different places.

When we got to a smaller town part way through all the moves, I was about 21, and yet again had two jobs.  I hadn’t been happy, but never thought my depression was anything I couldn’t handle.  And then I snapped.

I had this adrenalin inside of me, that I never experienced before.  I was so sad and pissed off and I couldn’t calm down.  I couldn’t see a reason for being alive anymore.  Everyone says it’s selfish to take your own life, but when you’re in that moment, you really truly feel like everyone’s lives would be better off with you not in it.

I took a leg razor, the only thing I could get to without being caught.  Pried it up and out as much as I could, and laid in my bed for 2 and a half hours trying to get at the veins in one of my wrists.  It was after that time, I finally snapped to, and called my sister into the room.

The next day after work I started seeing a mental health counselor for what she called, situational depression.  Situations do not make you try to off yourself.

At 23, I moved to Oshawa to go to Durham College.  I got to experience the dorm life, where literally everyone becomes like family to you.  I still adore and love some of those people almost 15 years later.  They will all hold a special place in my heart.

I was going to the gym, getting drunker than a disgusting mess 6 nights or more a week, I had a great boyfriend at the time, who totally understood my need to freak out and act all awkward whenever he’d say something serious about our relationship moving forward.  I think now, he just did it bc it amused him so much lol. I had the best roommate I could ask for, who is still my love to this day, even if we don’t see each other as often as we’d like.  As crazy of a year as it was, I wouldn’t trade those memories for the world.  I’m just surprised I remember it so well, bc I was not always sober LOL.

I came home after graduating, and had a really bad Crohn’s relapse.  As per usual, before I was ready, I was off working crazy hours again, and my depression came back big time.  During this same year, my grandfather started to show signs of dementia. Him and my grandma were living with us on a reservation in a small town and I lost my shit.

My adrenalin would soar so high and so quickly, I would rip things apart.  Not other people’s things, but my own.  My loved art from years of painting… destroyed.  Paints chucked that I would kill to have now, as well as the many gorgeous brushes.  I even ripped a leather purse in half bc the zipper stuck!  The worst, was when I grabbed a lazy boy rocking chair and threw it down the stairs and carried it across the basement lol.

During this time I was smart enough to get set up with a counselor.  Thankfully she came to my house to see me, and I still see her to this day, though rarely, bc my depression is now completely controlled for the most part.

I also started randomly fainting.  I noticed whenever I stood in one spot without moving, my legs would start shaking and the whole room would spin.  Up until now, I was still putting up a good fight against my physical and even emotional health.  That was about to change in ways that I am still fighting 12 years later.  My whole quality of life was about to collapse, and depression wasn’t any where near done with me yet.

Ash,

 

 

Because I Need to Be Told 50 Million Damn Times

I need to stop letting ppl decide what im capable of and just go for it myself. I have a lot of choices to make, and have the ability to choose my own path, thats right for me.

I have the tools to get where I want, but also stand in my own way spiritually. Money coming will help, but I must be smart about where and what I invest it and my heart in.

I have everything right now at my disposal. Dont let the comfort in that, make me lazy or cocky about it. Continue to work towards the big goal of the future, while being thankful with how well it’s turning out. Hard work is paying off.

Be leery of fears holding me back, getting too caught up in the fun and not the work it will take to continue. Don’t let the past discourage me from my over all goals and gifts. Go in w blind faith and hard work. The only way for the future to come in w abundance.

Whippee… I knew this already, the bastards lol.

Ash,

PS Fuck swirls

Swirl 4

Almost 6am and no sleep. Figured I would do the next swirl.

I was 18 when I moved out and got two jobs. One for a muffin shop, and one for Laura Secord. I was pushed out of my shell working with the public. I was working sometimes from 6am to 9pm. 7 days a week. It got to the point where I kept getting sick, so I made sure I got 1 day off a week.

Then I turned 19 and all Hell broke loose. In Canada, the legal age to drink is 19. It was a whirlwind of working 12 hours, then going out drinking all night, and then gettig up and doing it all over again.

This continued until I moved back home to go to school for fixing computers at a tech school to save money. I was the youngest person in the school at 19, and I was taking a 2 year course in 6 months.

November hit, and I realized somehing was wrong. I was in a horrid amount of pain, could barely eat without throwing up, and I had lost 25 lbs in 2 weeks. During this time my first relationship split, and I had to drop out of school bc I was too weak to leave the couch. It was November, and I’d have to have the windows wide open bc I couldn’t handle how feverish I was.

To boot, my uncle Casey passed away, after battling HIV for 10 years. I felt like I wasn’t being given the chance to deal with one loss, before something worse would happen. I had been jipped an uncle that had finally came back into my life. And then I couldn’t even suck on a popsicle without being sick. Off to the ER I went.

Before going in I wouldn’t even let my doctor take bloodwork. I soon realized thqt would be the easiest of what they would put me through.

I was a stubborn case bc I wouldn’t rest. I’d get up, walk to the sun room and hang out there for an hour…aka be in so much pain I would sneakily collapse in a chair and pretend I was reading. Then slowly make my way back trying to at least get to the chair beside my bed.

I cried every night from the pain, baby butterfly needles would burst my veins. I would fall asleep crashed forward trying to stay sitting up, and was so weak I’d almost faint having a shower.

After a week I got to come home. I was up the next day moving furniture for my dad to vacuum. It changed my life from then on. I decided I wasn’t going to let my fears run how my life was going to be, so i went out and got my tongue and belly button pierced.

Downfall was… right afer the New Years, I lost my uncle Doug too. He was an alcoholic who ended up having a heart attack, while looking at photos of my sister and I. Someone had come into his apartment, and stole some of his things, and his money while he sat there passed away. He was an amazing uncle. I wear his and my uncle Casey’s rings all the time.

How did you celebrate last night?

Ash,

Swirl 3

My depression started showing slowly in public school, and came back with avengence when I was 18.

My sister was diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease, and it was Christmas time. One night at the table, after visiting Amanda at the hospital, I finally opened up to my parents about how unhappy I had been.

We didn’t know about free agencies that gave mental health counselling, so my dad asked if we could wait until Amanda was out of the hospital, and then he would pay for me to see someone.

That January when she was home and stabalizing, my dad thought buying my way out of depression would work lol. So off my mom and I went, and I got my guinea pig Rodney.

I knew full well what was happening, but I wasn’t going to say no to a new pet either. So I brought him up to my parent’s room, where I was watching tv, and just sat with him and cried for hours.

The next year of my life, I moved out with Amanda, and went through so many firsts. It was a crazy, but amazing year, yet forever life changing. It would help me become the stubborn person I am today, and stop being so damn shy. That was the year that made me change from the hidden, scared, letting people take care of me girl, to an independant adult, that would soon realize, I could only count on myself. But that is to be saved for the next swirl.

Take care

Ash,

Swirl 2

Yeah this is rather boring. Even for me lol. Public school was good. 25 kids in the entire school. I was the only grade 2, and there was only 1 in kindergarten. When I hit grade 3, we our school closed, and I was moved to a regular sized school until graduating in grade 8.

I had some great teachers, and some real nasty bitches. Everyone hated the French teacher. She had this stupid hand puppet she used, and found out years later, a friend’s little sister stole it, and set it on fire, while hanging off the antenna of her car. Pretty funny actually.

I was a Nirvana and jeans wearing kid and omg did I get bullied terribly! Nothing like today’s bullying thankfully. There was like one or two people in the school who had internet, so that wasn’t an issue. I was very badly verbally bullied. I let myself get walked over all the time.

It’s weird when I see kids conforming to what their bullies are like, because I always figured if they didn’t like me for me, why would they ever want to be friends w a fake version of myself? Sadly this worked for a lot of kids. I just continued to hang with my friends and wear my music tees.

I had such bad issues for years after, but I honestly hold no hate for them for jt. I do think the one is a cunt, but that’s because she hit on my sister’s boyfriend right in front of her, but karma got her a lot worse later on. And now, what those people think of me now, has no bearing on me, even if they were still the same way, which I doubt majority of them are. They were doing a natural kid behavior that yes. Was shitty, but that was saying more about who they were. Not me.

By highschool, I was a bitter ass bitch who trusted no one’s intentions and spent most of my grade 9 year high on pcp and e. More came later, but that was my bad year. Grade 10 came around, and I just stopped and started being more myself. I enjoyed school after that. And I still wore my music tees fyi lol.

Ash,