Don't Eat the Daisies

I haven't had a week this devastating in a very, very long time. I got into a "disagreement" with someone who means the world to me and it got so far blown out of proportion that I'm still shook and confused as to how it happened at all. We've talked, but things feel wrong and awkward and forever different. My heart is hurt. This person is so important to my life. She plays a large role in why I love my job, she is inspiring and makes me happy . So few people in this world do. I am just so sad about this and am feeling a strange pain. There is pain for myself, of course, but an overwhelming amount of pain in feeling...knowing...that I hurt or made her uncomfortable, even though it was unintentional. These feelings are, of course, entirely my own and I alone am responsible for them. I've cried a lot over the past few days. Gut wrenching, I-can't-breathe tears. I hate it. Matt told me to quit with the pity party, but it's not that simple. If it were

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. That is not to be confused with turning other people’s feelings into my own to make it about me. It is always about them. It is always me feeling for them and wanting to help. 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 real

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

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 anno

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. Mul

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

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

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. 

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.