Showing posts from 2017

Sore Loser

My silence is suffocating but expressing myself is a fate with the potential for consequences much worse than that.

What choice do I have but to live laboriously with the deafening screams that only I can hear?
 I want so badly to not feel this way, yet it is the hand I was dealt and the house always wins.
My head knows that the game is rigged but my heart refuses to fold and so I bet again.

I never was any good at gambling.

Love Warrior

I think we can all agree that I am not the self-help-book reading, mushy, love everyone type of person. I am actually the exact opposite. That said, I am just about through the book Love Warrior by Glennon Doyle, and never have I ever read something that has been a mirror reflection of myself, from the way I feel, to the way I think, to the way I behave. Love Warrior  is in no way a self help book. It's one woman's struggle with herself, her identity, how she interacts with the world, and how the world tells her she should interact with it. It is exactly everything that I feel and have ever felt, and I find myself saying "YES. YES!" on almost every page.

I have always, always, always been a self conscious individual. I can remember being 4 years old and not knowing how to act, feeling inferior, incompetent, and painfully out of place. I retreated inside myself and put up this shy shell of an exterior that was "cute" when I was young, but as I aged prevented…

Hug it Out

When I was a kid, probably nine or ten, I told my extended family that I was done hugging them. They were so fucking annoying with their hugging any time anyone farted (this was the example I gave as to why I was through), and I was not okay with that. My aunts and uncles were, of course, offended, and my grandma hugged me anyway, but it was something that was important to me to stop. Why would I hug people so many times like that? Why would I use touch as some weird gesture that meant nothing to me or them?

Fast forward to now, and for the most part those aunts and uncles still don't hug me. My grandmother is long dead, so those have stopped, too. I'm still stingy with my hugs but these days it's due to shitty self esteem and a strong sense of self doubt. This, ladies and gentlemen, is adulthood, and one of the many reasons I stay up late eating cheesecake alone in front of the t.v. at night. It might also be the reason for the teardrops on my guitar, but I can't reme…


Sleep has become my best friend and worst enemy. Okay, let me rephrase that: Sleep continues to be my best friend, and is now ALSO my worst enemy. How can that be you ask? I'll tell you. Sleep has become a black hole for me, a place that I get sucked into and can't climb out from. I love sleep. I love to dream and relax and be in my bed with all 10 of my blankets piled on while my fan blows directly at my face (and I'm covered all the way to my head with just my nose peeking out...). I love that. I also love the moments before I fall asleep where I fantasize about things that I really want. That sounds great, right? Well it is! Except for when it isn't. Lately all I can bring myself to do is sleep. My brain doesn't want to deal with real life so it orders me to bed where I feel awful for being there, but can't get up. This is depression for me, a part of it anyway. My depression always includes some sort of oppression. Not oppression from people (other than mys…

No wire hangers.

The past few weeks have been mentally difficult. I am so unhappy right now. I can't even begin to describe the number of times I've thought about self harming; I pulled my hair so hard yesterday that it nearly came out. I only stopped out of pure vanity. After that happened I drug a wire hanger across the veins of my left wrist, but couldn't bring myself to actually do damage. The pain I could inflict upon myself sounds lovely and it would be the perfect escape from the pain I have in my head and heart right now. I know why I am hurting. I know why I feel despair and rage and sadness and agitation and a lack of fulfillment. But I can't tell anyone.

Stupid Hair

I cannot begin to explain the anguish my hair is causing me. I'm so fucking attached to the length that it's ridiculous, but I also hate it and want it short...but what if I'm ugly and what if people don't like me as much with short hair? What if I look old or my face looks round? How fucking dumb is that thought process? So dumb. I totally recognize it, but here I am, playing the "should I or shouldn't I?" game, and it seems that regardless of which side I pick, I'm not happy with my choice. Hair is so stupid and controlling. It has so much damn power over me that it's like I have Stockholm Syndrome with my thin as fuck mane. Again, so dumb. I've felt this way before, and I'm sure I'll feel it again in my life time, and it seems that the only way to remedy the problem is to chop it all off. Once it's gone I often times feel free, but I also feel regret for the stupid long hair that once was. I'm in hair limbo, guys. 
I sometim…

I hate Sundays

It baffles me to be someone who has a life that is so good, but who feels so, so sad. Nothing feels right these days. My head is off, my body is off, everything is off. I just want to be on. Even if it was on with a dimmer switch, at least there'd be some light. I spend a lot of time in the dark these days, metaphorically speaking. I can never be happy with what I have, I am always longing for more, am always comparing myself to others. I truly am a bad person. That sentence isn't meant for someone to counter, it's a fact. I am a bad person. I'm not nice. I'm perpetually tired. I'm ugly inside and out. I'm mean. I'm detached. I'm jealous, oh my God, so jealous. And I am undeserving of the people in my life.

Again, this is not a post in which I'm hoping someone will throw glitter at me to make me feel better. It's how I feel and it's how I've been feeling for quite some time. Depression is a spiteful bitch. She goes away for awhile, m…

No Reason at All

I wish I had the energy to compose something profound, but I'm tired and really high, so I won't/can't. There's a fuck load of a lot wrong with this world today, especially in America, but I'll be damned if there isn't a fuck load of a lot of things right with it, too. I am continually impressed and touched by the kindness of others.


There are few things in life that can make me feel such a wide array of emotions than John Mayer. Happy, peaceful, lovely, tingly, sad, devastated, hurt, broken, magical, turned on, awe, grief, melancholy, excitement, touched, and magical. This man just gets it. He fucking gets it. I am so excited to see him in concert for the third time next week. John Mayer, I'm coming for you. Not in a creepy way of course, unless you're into that then okay, cool.


...I haven't had a week this devastating in a very, very long time. My boss, whom everyone knows I adore, and I got into a work related "argument" that should not have happened. Ever. It took place on Monday and I am still shook and confused as to why it happened at all. I won't go into details, but these feelings are traumatic and crushing, like someone very close to me has died...unexpectedly. We have talked about it and are trying to move forward, but I can't shake the feeling that our working relationship and friendship has been forever changed by this one event. My heart is hurt. I would go so far as to say that a piece of it is broken, and it is a terrible feeling. This person is so important to my life. She plays a large role in why I love my job, she is inspiring, and she makes me happy. So few people in this world do.

I am just so sad about this. She's leaving for a month on vacation today, and I am left feeling in limbo, like I was lit on fire and a…

In the Deep

I am a serial empath. I feel things incredibly deeply and absorb the energy of those around me without trying. This is often a good thing and allows me to understand the people in my life, but it is, at times, extremely detrimental to my overall health and well-being. This is especially true with my family and close friends, and when they are off, so am I. This isn't some reflective personality bullshit, this is how my body and soul operate. The feelings of the people around me become my own, even if I don't understand them, and have such a profound effect that I carry them with me throughout my entire day.

There are times when I am feeling great, am in a good, positive mood, and I walk next to someone and BAM! I'm done. I feel sad, hurt, angry...whatever it is that person is projecting without realizing it, and even though I know this is happening, I almost always turn these feelings on myself and am left wondering if that person is upset with me and go over and over ever…

Cracks in the Facade

The couch that at times can be so comforting and inviting can also be a trap that weighs me down, refusing to let me leave. The very thing that I look forward to is often the thing that I can't escape, that my brain, body, and heart won't let me escape from. This is depression. It is very hard to explain and even more difficult to understand, but it is how I've felt since 2003, the year in which I was officially "diagnosed" with a condition that I will battle throughout the entirety of my life.

I imagine this sensation is similar to what drowning feels like. I can see the surface, all I have to do is stand up and I'll be safe, but I can't. In these instances I am often above my body, looking down. I can see myself as a wet rag on the chaise section of the couch, so weak and sad...and not belonging there. If only I would dry out or at least be hung up elsewhere then maybe I could flee. But I can't. This is a dampness that does not go away. 
It is easy …


This Post was recovered from THURSDAY, DECEMBER 8, 2016
There are good and bad moments in every day; it's inarguably easier to focus on the bad, and very difficult to focus and hang onto the good. Today I had three very distinct moments that left me feeling all sunshine-y and happy, and made such a lasting impression that I am compelled to blog about them. Forgive the shitty writing. I'm tired and don't have the energy to do better.

Thing 1: I sat with good people at our holiday party. I had good conversations, I shared inside jokes, I felt good and like I belonged. Even though much of the "party" was boring, it was boring with a purpose. The majority of the time was devoted to people who have been with the company for 10, 15, 20, 25, and 30 years. My employers care so much about their employees that they throw an expensive party complete with elaborate speeches, poems, songs, skits, etc. to honor their service. Normally all of those things would annoy the shit out…

Treading Water

This post was recovered from THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 2016
It took awhile, but my head is finally above water, and while it is too soon to say for sure, I think I am headed in the right direction. I met with a new doctor who put me back on Wellbutrin and my brain is starting to function again. I feel like I am out of the black hole I had fallen into and it is a good feeling.

Life is very stressful and I struggle to do much more than work. but work is something I am good at. My patience is thin but it is getting better each day. Sleep still eludes me most nights but even that is improving. I ordered a new Beachbody workout system and am waiting for it to arrive so that I can begin to chip away at this weight and feel more like myself. Progress is progress and I will take it.

I am trying very hard to focus on doing only one thing at a time and it is anything but easy for me. I have to stop and remind myself 10,000 times a day to complete a task before starting a new one. Multitasking is som…

Club 33

This post was recovered from 11/17/16

On this, the eve of my 33rd birthday, I am filled with mixed emotions. 32 has been a whirlwind of a year, and so much has happened. I'm a Scorpio, and therefore a naturally pessimistic person, so I have difficulty seeing the positive. I also have a penchant for lists, so let's list this shit out:

The Shit List
I had a literal psychotic breakdown. I almost killed myself many, many times, in ways that "sane" me had never thought I would. Literal. Psychotic. Breakdown.My psychotherapist propositioned me. Huh. I gained FORTY pounds. I'm obese for my height. I went up to a size 18. Self esteem? None.I'm pretty sure my hearing is getting worse.My left eye is fucked the fuck up. I was legally blind for weeks.I have so much medical debt from said eye. So, so much. And I'm not done.My skin turned oily. Like, hella oily. I have a crazy zit filled face! What the actual fuck?!Donald Trump is the president. Let that sink in. I have a…


This post was written 5/7/17 and was recovered from my deleted entries. I've decided to keep some of my old writings. 
It is not possible to live authentically. We are all different people depending on who we are with, and even when we are alone we re-play interactions and events over and over again, analyzing them to such a degree that we make ourselves anxious and left feeling inferior. Think about it. Who are you really? You don't know. You can't know.
I cannot recall a single moment in my life where I've been authentic. I'm too worried about pleasing other people and being judged to be the person I am, whoever she may be. I play so many roles that there is no way to be her. I'm a mom, wife, about 68 different people to different friends at different times, a social worker playing 81 different Danas, a daughter, sister, aunt, awkward Target shopper, binge eater, body hater, judgemental bitch, and the road rage-eous driver I've ever encountered. And those a…

List 1

Here are the good things in my life right now:
My kid. Holy shit, my kid. So smart, so sweet, so kind, so weird, so amazing.My husband. Holy shit, my husband. He puts up with so much crazy and still loves me for it.My job. Holy shit, my job. I love it. It makes me happy. My boss and now friend. Holy shit, my boss and now friend. I just love her so, so much.My friends. Holy shit, my friends. You know who you are. Thank you. So, so much. Pot.Holy shit, pot. It's changed my life. I sleep so good. There's lots more, but those are what's important right now. So, in a nut shell, Dana is a person who loves her kid, husband, and job, who is all about her boss, has amazing, kick ass friends, and smokes pot. Things could be worse.

Do Over

I deleted the entirety of my blog. It was difficult. I cried. It felt good. It gave me anxiety. I'm sad. It's washed away. It's done.

My old posts were annoying and sad, and I'm not saying that my new blog won't be annoying and sad because come on, that's basically my m.o., but I don't want to be reminded of the shitty times. Some people would say that I could use the old posts as an opportunity to reflect and see how far I've come, but, bitch, please! I know how far I've come. I remember it. I lived it and don't care to relive it again.

Here's to a fresh start.