"Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing" – Benjamin Franklin

You never know how many people really care until you hit rock bottom. People start to come out of no where. People you thought had forgotten all about you still remember your smile and the impact you had. No life is too small or insignificant. Everyone has a place. Even me. In my own weird way. I don’t know where I fit in this world but I know I was put here to help. I helped a girl out with clothes and a bible while in the hospital. One of the first things I did was get her a bag ready to go up to the hospital. It meant way more to her than it ever could to me. I didn’t do it for me I did it because I saw a need that I could fill. Something I could do to make the world a better place. So I did. I will call this girl until she leaves. I also met a man who lead me to get sober from my valium. Not that its bad for everyone but I have been on it for too long and everyone notices a difference of me on it. And thats what I hate. I want to be the best Katie for everyone. I hate being anxious but at the same time I don’t want to be a robot.

Part of being inpatient is giving up your freedom. Your sanity basically. You stare at walls for long periods of time just to think about the decisions you made that got you there. Which I can tell you sucks balls. I cried like a baby my second day. My first full day really. My second day I started to see the light and I started to do things that made me feel good, like run when we went outside and not sleep all day. I played cards with group members. I made people laugh. I’ll never forget those people. The people that impacted me far more than they may ever realize. You may think your life is insignificant and I know I sure did but no life is too small. NO LIFE is not important. NO ONE should be left behind in this cruel world I don’t care who you are. This world is scary and lonely and I don’t care what you’ve done you don’t deserve to be alone.

My friends and my family have carried me as far as they can and its time for me to carry myself. I pray for the strength and the courage to do so.



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I unpacked all these in one day. I can’t stand a mess and disorganization. It literally drives me batty. Moving in a complete process. Its finding a job, its settling in. Its finding yourself again. In a whole new place. I am sitting at a bar my best friend works at to get wifi just to write this and to apply to jobs. I am at a loss at what to do. I have tried so much and done so much today I am exhausted. Being up at 5am everyday wears on a person. I try though and I’m still going to keep trying. I’m not going to let this depression and my BPD win. I won’t and I can’t. Too many people have put too much time and money into my well being and to help me get a fresh start just to sit and rot away. Like I’d really like to do but I know thats not Gods plan for me. Its the depression telling me that.

A wise friend once said “The greatest thing about life is everyone has their own book. Some are sweet and everlasting, some are horrifying and weird, some are sad and short, but it is YOUR book. And no one in the whole universe can copy or steal your book” – Henderson Cunningham.

This statement is so true. I hope my book is long and filled with lots of highs and few but very informative lows. No one knows what its like to be me and I don’t know what its like to be anyone else. I don’t want to know. I pray for everyone. I hope everyone succeeds in their own way. I never wish ill on anyone. I have made mistakes and I can’t take them back but I can live my life now and and want to repent and ask for forgiveness. My book is bitter sweet right now. And I’m okay with that. My sister has blessed me with a roof and I can’t be anymore grateful. My brother came and helped me move and I can’t ever repay him and my mom, don’t get me started. She is my rock. Well God is my rock but my mom comes second. I would love to write more and update more but its hot and I can’t stay long. I will have internet this weekend I hope and plan to write more. Please look forward to hearing me soon.

Take it one roe at a time!

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I don’t know how anyone can see a homeless person and not look down. If only for a second. We all know major cities and towns are going to be full of them that is just life. IT is what being below the poverty line has done, its what not being able to qualify for disability when someone really needs it gets turned down, its what being mentally ill and not being able to get help does to a person. Its HELL. I have lived it now. BRIEFLY but I have been behind the sign and will go behind the sign again today. Not for me but for THEM. The ones who have no one to look them in the eyes. The ones who remember my face because I had given them money and talked to them before. THEY REMEMBERED ME!!! And now when I have nothing to give they are helping me out telling me times to come back and when to come and trying to take care of me. There is such a strong calling in me to help these people. More so then to make money for my moving truck. If I make money for my moving truck thats fabulous but if not then God will provide some other way. I just know it. So do you want to know what it was like behind the sign? What it felt like to beg for money with a guitar and a case for 3 hours in the hot FL heat? Do you want to know what that feels like? What it taste like? What it sounds like? Listen close and I’ll tell you.

I started my journey later than I had intended to. Headed out, parked a good 8 blocks away from where I wanted to be sitting. First of all a guitar is heavy, so is a catholic Bible, (ya know, all those extra books lol) and then my water bottle. ITs FL so its HOT as all get out. Like I could have friend an egg on the cement had I had an egg. Anyway I’m walking down Palofax and I come upon a dang riot. Well riot is not a good word. “Gathering” “Supporters” with picket signs and the likes about SOMETHING. I don’t keep up with the news y’all. Its sad. I have enough sadness in my life. Something about supporting a congress man and I know they didn’t like Trump too much. I went LIVE with it on Facebook. I thought it was neat to walk up on that on my way to do this. So I watched that for a bit and then kept walking. I came upon a regular lady. A homeless lady who plays the guitar. She complemented mine and I said I would love to start a band. Haha apparently they prefer to work alone but I took no offense she told me where I could go. So I went down there. Along the way I passed another couple. They remembered me from when I had money and I used to always give them a dollar or a smoke. This time it was me on the other side. They were shocked. I’m sure a lot of them were. I assured them it was not a joke. WHO WOULD SIT IN THAT HEAT FOR A JOKE. Plus I would never want to take advantage of someone like that. So I sat below the Sanger theater sign. I played, and played and played, and played. People would walk by and not even look down. I would tear up. I was shocked someone didn’t call the cops on me for having an emotional break down on the street of Palofax. I’m a quiet crier though. I was crying not only for myself but the whole world of homeless people. They don’t even get treated like they are human. I had so many people cross the street just to avoid me. Do you know how that made me feel. The worst was when someone would reach in their pocket like they were going to give me something and I got excited and then they didn’t and I realized they put their hand in their pocket for protection. I would never take from someone else. And besides unless I use “the force” how am I supposed to get into your pocket?!? People are sooo weird. And its the little things that hurt and hell I’m sure I’ve been guilty of it. Do we realize how the small actions we do impact people on such a large scale. This is temporary for me I hope for them it is not. They have to live this everyday. The sounds were muted. I just heard my own thoughts and my guitar. I really don’t recall hearing anything else. The taste was dry and bitter. The feeling was awful. The concert was hot and my feet kept going to sleep and because I hadn’t eaten I couldn’t stand up. It was terrible. I was getting dehydrated NO ONE offered me water. Can we not show some compassion. I sang last night Palms 49 and I got $1 and finally had this creepy dude leave me alone. It was from a young boy. Teach your kids right. This little boy will never know what he did. That $1 didn’t go towards my moving truck. It went towards body wash for the homeless people of Palofax street. Supplies I’m bringing them tonight. I hope to make enough for a truck but this is for them not me. I’m bringing everything I can and hope it works. My bible and their stuff and my guitar is all I need. Wish me luck you guys!!!


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If anyone knows me AT ALL they know that THIS is my song at karaoke. My best friend and I were supposed to go to Beale Street music festival. She had gotten us tickets and everything. I couldn’t have afforded to go otherwise. Its all I have been looking forward to the past few weeks because with my aunt dying, my ex ignoring even the text tell him she had passed, stress from finances, stress from work, loneliness, etc, I haven’t had much else to look forward to. I was going to get to see the karaoke “Ironic” singer herself and my favorite band of all time. Third Eye Blind. For people like me who are really sick sometimes all it takes is just one thing to keep us going. I no longer have that. Not that it would have mattered much longer because it will be over soon. Irony is a bitch because I need this concert now more than ever. But life has a funny funny way of working out just the way we need it to.

Life has been very ironic to me lately and very literal. I can’t seem to get over it. I’ll give you an example that is a little to spot on to what my everyday life is like.

So I’m on “E” but I am already running late to a Drs appointment 20min away and I have work afterwards so I have got to be on time. So I am praying literally the whole way there “God please let me make it to the Dr without running out gas, God please just let me make it to the Dr.” I didn’t have time to stop on the way but luckily I made it! I ran up to my Drs appointment only to find out I was a day early! I busted out crying saying how I drove 20 min away on E and that I had to be seen because I was very sick. I had started to aspirate in my sleep at this time. I was already over this morning. This meant I would be late to work which is a huge no no. Especially for me. I went to my car to charge my phone. As soon as I cranked my car to charge my phone it died. As in ran out of gas. I lost it. After calling dear friend and finding the humor in the fact that God quite literally answered my prayer I was okay. Still sucked but I was okay. I sat there nearly 4 hours including waiting on the Dr and gas to think about my mistakes and the grace God had given me. I deal with things of this nature on a daily basis. Its just my luck, its just my life.


And here is Murphy’s law


This week has been Cray Cray. Like crazy. I almost thought I was going to lose my job. One of the only things I wake up everyday for. All because I’m sick and I didn’t’ know how to ask for sick leave. Luckily I have a therapist who really cares and saw if she didn’t do something it wasn’t going to be good. I can’t say I don’t have people that care about me because that just not true. I know I do. Just because one person won’t acknowledge I exist doesn’t mean I don’t matter. Anywho IOP was SUPPOSED to start on Wednesday but I had to start it on Friday. It went okay. Apparently I’m a pro at DBT, which clearly you can know the skills but still not be good at them.  Or else I wouldn’t need IOP. I feel like every time I get overwhelmed or stressed or both I go into an episode. Up until I was given the green light to take a couple of weeks off every moment of every day felt like a disassociation. I wasn’t me because I wasn’t there. I was some where else trying to avoid reality. So aside from starting IOP what else did I do instead of going to a concert that was keeping me going:

  • I cleaned and organized the LuLaRoom
  • I deep cleaned my couch (much needed y’all, much needed)
  • I started folding and putting away the immense amount of laundry I have YET to put up since moving
  • I planned a super sweet, stay at home cook, eat under the stars, listen to records, and canoe the blackwater river third/fourth date.
  • I wrote a letter to the founder of the company that I represent thanking them for saving my life and seeing what else they can do to assist me. It took courage but I told my story.
  • And I wrote this blog entry

trust god you are where

Life isn’t perfect but I made the most of a super shitty situation. I had a great day. It was amazing on the river. Its Ironic how much, we shall call him for blog sake Professor Lupin (it was Walter White but the more I got to know about him he’s totally Lupin) we have in common. Yet how different we are. Right now we are just friends and I’d say dating as friends and maybe we will see what happens. Either way I’m happy to have a new friend and someone to go canoeing with. Its hard to meet someone and have to tell them right off the bat “oh by the way I’m unpacking some baggage lol


what a puuurfect day

One of the saddest things for me this weekend was not seeing my best friend and seeing third eye blind. So I’ll close with one of my favorite songs by them.

“Without change something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken.”
Frank Herbert, Dune (Dune #1)

Change is something inevitable in life. Change is something I crave and at the same exact time run far away from. I wouldn’t like a life without some spice added to it, (no Dune pun intended there). My daycare is changing, my writing is moving forward, my passions are progressing. I am growing. I am becoming the woman I am meant to be. That is exciting. This blog is meant to catalog all those adventures. Dating, my writing, my career and school paths, the road blocks I may encounter and how I’ll overcome them. I may share past stories with you and things I’ve learned from my mistakes. Here is a short but sweet introduction to the start of a new life for me in just two weeks, then two months, then who knows from there. Life is an adventure. Let the sleeper in you awaken. Stay tuned as I work on “Escape from Palofax”, “Career Goals”, and just in general work on getting used to the lay out of WordPress itself lol so please excuse the messiness of it while I do so. I do think however it will benefit me in the long run both career and growth wise. img_0514

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If you ask me a question I’ll answer it honestly a hundred precent of the time but I’ll be straight up honest with you I am awful about lying by omission. I really won’t do it on purpose because to tell you the truth I’m probably trying to forget it myself. And often times I’m good enough about pushing things to the very back of my brain that I WILL forget them. Its called disassociation and it is part of having BPD. But there are some things even I can’t forget. Things I’ve done. Things I’m not very proud of.

I am terrible at love. I may love with my whole heart, and give the world to you but I suck at it otherwise. I don’t read cues first and foremost. I expect people to speak their mind like I do, not speak in some secret code. I’m even terrible at basic social cues muchness romantic cues. I end up hurting the ones I REALLY love or losing crushes based on something stupid I’ve done. All the standing up thats been done to me recently is probably karma.

I’ll give you an example of something I did to DPL. So the fourth of July was our anniversary and when we broke up and I was begging for things to go back I got him a card to open on that day. Around five months in the FUTURE mind you. In the card I told him to meet me in our spot on the fourth. I remember that but I don’t know what else I wrote. Over the next five months I would continue to see DPL and continue to beg for him back, he would always say no but was still using me for other things. Well I eventually met someone. Probably around month three. I started to see DPL less but still saw him. He knew about the other guy but the other guy didn’t know about him. The fourth of July rolls around and I make plans with my new beau having long forgotten about the card. Well Navarre being a small beach town and only a few good places to see the fireworks we went to the one spot in town. We played volleyball, drank, ate and were having a good time until my phone started going off. It was DPL. He was furious that I was there on “our night” with another dude. I was pissed and drunk. I started asking him how it was “our night” when clearly he didn’t want to get back together and he knew about “Mr.Clean”. I was drunk so I told Mr. Clean that he was there and I went down to the lower pagoda to say something to him. It was a shit show. I guess when you’re with someone for almost five years and you still sort of see them and that night marks your anniversary and you’re with another guy and you run into him drunk at a bar, its bound to be a shit show. He was alone. Of course. I asked if he was meeting anyone there and he said “not yet”. I said something smart and told him I did indeed have clothes on and a one piece at that and walked away. I don’t remember the fire works. What I do remember is it taking about an hour to get back over the bridge and knowing my date had to work the next day and nodding off in the car. And I’m pretty sure I confessed to still seeing DPL. I think it was in the car that I remembered the card. Did DPL open the card and was he there because I asked him to be? Was it his way of taking me back? I’ll never know. I for sure lost one man that and it wouldn’t be until six months later that I would lose DPL forever. What I did was awful. I didn’t just give up on love. I took a huge dump on it. I can’t forget that. I can forget a lot but not that. I don’t want to forget ANY of the moments that make up me. You have no idea how heart breaking it is having someone tell you you’ve done something and you have no memory of it. Its like having a piece of you missing.

There are so many stories and things about people you don’t know. I know I can’t be the only person who’s terrible about lying by omission. Even the most honest person has things they haven’t told you. Our darkest secrets are often those that break our hearts the most. How refreshing it is to see why another soul mourns. I wish I had remembered that card.

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I am twenty nine years old and will soon be thirty and I have never been stood up more than I have in the past six months. And the dates that I have managed to go on were absolutely awful. I am starting to accept the fact that I’ve probably just had my shot at love and that’s that. I don’t even want to put myself out there anymore. Let me just let you peer into my love life.

So I like someone. Not in a serious manner. I enjoy his company and since he’s been mad at me I have noticed his absence. We had been hanging out for about a month. He’s eleven years older than me and super busy and had to cancel on the dates we had planned. And he actually had legit excuses but I was just so tired of these little bumble boys standing me up that I lost my temper and said something I shouldn’t have. Things have not been the same since. I’ve known this person for seven years and although I’ve always considered him a friend I never thought I’d have any sort of “feelings” for him. My life is one giant comedy meets tragedy. I can’t help but to laugh to keep from crying. So the other day I was out on my walk and who do I see about to cross the intersection but HIM. He’s totally been acting weird lately and I don’t think he wants to see me, so I panic. And I just bought the man a pair of socks because they were funny and I couldn’t help it and I’m legit about to step into oncoming traffic to avoid him. So I did I started to step out into traffic going the opposite way hoping that they would let me go. He said something. The cars didn’t let me go. So I said “huh”. He laughed and said “don’t get run over”. He’s crossing the street. I’m finally able to cross the street. I mumble under my breath “I’m running from you”. Awkward encounter avoided. When I got home I sent him a picture of the socks and I told him I couldn’t help but to get him a pair. They are perfect for him. I told him I would have given them to him when I saw him had I thought about it. Lie. His reply had me rolling. He said he didn’t think I recognized him. I can tell you he didn’t get a hair cut or anything. Of course I recognized him. All I could respond with was “oh no lol I did”. I can’t tell you why I ran except he makes me nervous. I didn’t think he wanted to see me so I just wanted to disappear. So why buy him socks you ask? Well they reminded me of him and I’d like to think that after seven years of knowing each other that we are still friends. But I have no idea because he’s terrible at communicating. I am learning most men are. Or the men I’m attracted to seem to be.

Something magical happened last night. I didn’t think people at work liked me. I just didn’t think they did. But I found out last night they care more than I think. I was supposed to have a date with a guy I met on bumble. The one that stood me up last Friday. You see I’m not trying to put all my eggs in one basket exactly so I decided why not give him a second chance. So we were supposed to go to trivia and maybe eat before. I had told my co workers I’d bring my date to work to eat and everyone was excited. So last night at about eight o’clock one of the girls asked if we were coming over group text. I had to admit in a group text that my twenty nine year old ass was being stood up. For a second time. Everyone was so nice. The manager that I really thought hated me even told me to still come and eat and she would make me a drink on the house. It felt so nice. And I wish I would have gone. But I stupidly thought he might still text me to do trivia, so I spent time putting on make up when I should have just gotten in my car and gone. I’m so damn naive sometimes and I think the best of everyone even when they prove me wrong. It’s something that really frustrates me about myself. I ended up letting being stood up and being ignored by someone I like and I thought was a friend regardless make me revert back to old habits. I ended up eating alone and at home, cheese it’s at that. I didn’t even make it to trivia. I didn’t want to move. I passed out super early and slept until ten this morning. Which for me lately, is late. I didn’t get a walk in today which has me super bummed out but ya know what I wrote this.

I can’t let people effect me like this. Or most importantly their opinion of me. I just started gaining traction and I can’t lose momentum. My life is at stake. Things had gotten bad. Like really really bad and for the first time in a long time, I have hope. Ha my love life may not have any but I do and that’s the only thing that matters. My happiness has absolutely nothing to do with anyone else anymore.

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I’m supposed to be on blind date right now but I’ve been stood up. It’s nothing out of the ordinary for me. Honestly I’d much rather be writing anyway. I’ve realized something over the past couple of days. I am worth it! Whether anyone else thinks it or not doesn’t matter. Rejection sucks but it’s been a blessing for me. It’s forced me to accept myself and be happy with what is. A funny thing happened Thursday night. I choose not to give the power of my happiness over to someone else. And a beautiful thing happened in return, I was inspired. I realized things that hadn’t made sense to me before. One of those things is that I’m very very lucky. Lucky because I have experienced love. Lucky because I have the capacity TO love. Lucky because I’ve made it this far and I’m STILL trying. Some people can’t say that. In fact a lot of people can’t say that. I realized Thursday night that Dan was right all along. Giving up did get me to where I’m at now. I gave up on love because it wasn’t what I expected it to be. It wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies and I was just plain tired, so I gave up. But I’m here now. I’m where I’m at now. And I have to at least be grateful for the love that I had. I got to experience something a lot of people never do. They wait their whole lives to fall in love and to be loved back and it never happens. I was, I AM so lucky. I had almost five years of love. Now I get to love myself the rest of my life. Which I think is the way the universe planned it all along. I’ll still go on dates. I’ll still keep an open mind and always, ALWAYS have the capacity to love but honestly if it doesn’t happen again, I’m okay.

It me took being rejected from someone I NEVER wanted in the first place to realize all of this. That’s the odd thing about me, I can love damn near anything. This man was never attractive to me before but the minute he showed interest in me I became compassionate and saw past the flaws that once put me off. Was I a little desperate and lonely? Maybe. But mostly I realized he deserved love too and maybe NEEDED it. Alas, he used me for what he wanted and then was a complete asshole but the jokes on him. I’m far better off having been rejected by someone who was never good enough for me in the first place than I was sitting in my abyss. I am determined to be happy and grateful now.  I’m sure one day this man will regret the way he treated me.

So what struck this initial change in my attitude? Well I’m not 100% sure. I just decided not to go lay back down for one. And then God happened. I did something I was passionate about for the first time in well over 6 months. I walked. And I walked. And with good company. I made a new friend. I got in the sunshine. I’m so grateful for that walk. It’s like it woke me up from the dead. I may have been breathing but the truth of the matter is, I was a walking corpse. I feel the light has been turned on. There’s color in my cheeks now. My legs hurt y’all and I’ve never been more grateful. I’m drinking coffee again. Yes! Coffee. I’m awake before 3pm. Its as if the tides have shifted. I had the guts to go into the store I was fired from and finally get the book I left there. Do y’all know how much anxiety I’ve had over leaving that dad gum book. Funny what actually having serotonin in your brain can do. On my very first walk I just decided to walk in there and get it back. And what do you know it wasn’t so bad going back in there. Rejection has saved my life and I’m so grateful.

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The third time being stood up by the same person. I actually decided to get “ready” this time and caught a rare moment where I look halfway put together.

I have 132 missed calls. I shit you not. I also have 17,443 unopened emails. My house looks like a desperate plea for an easy out. I haven’t folded laundry in well over a month. Yet somehow amidst all the chaos I still find time to date. And somehow I think it’s helping my sanity. To a certain degree. I’m more social. Which helps my confidence and I’m actually taking better care of myself. Cause I can’t expect to impress someone if I don’t. As long as they don’t have to see my house. Or know how many missed calls I have. Or unopened emails. That stuff stays hidden. From everyone. Especially myself. The fact that I’m more depressed than I have ever been in my entire life yet I still have the capacity to love someone else or be willing to absolutely amazes me. It shocks me. I’ll love someone who doesn’t even deserve it from me yet I don’t know how to begin to pull myself out of the dark abyss I’m currently in. For me at least it’s not about being loved as much as it about the ability to love someone else outside my own crappy self. I don’t expect anything from anyone because I’ve learned I can’t even count on myself so why should I even consider counting on someone else. I’ve been stood up more times than I’d like to admit. I’ll wait by the phone wondering what I’ve done wrong. Even though I know in my heart of hearts it’s nothing I’ve done wrong except lower my expectations. I deserve better than that and I know it. My friends know it. They tell me. But they know me well enough to know I’m gunna do whatever the hell I want to do. I see the lost and unloved and think, not that they can be saved but that they need loved just like everyone else. I’ll take care of the world before I start to take care of me. And well that has got to stop or else I fear I’m going to stay in this abyss forever. I wish I knew the answers and I wish so badly I could be kind to me, for just once. No one is going to get me out of this but me. Dating, or attempting to I think is a step in the right direction but it’s a flicker in a dark and cold place.

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I had my first therapy appointment this morning for the first time in seven months. I tossed and turned all night just at the thought of it. What would they ask? What would I say? It’s not like I’m in dark about my mental health. I’m very well aware of how bad things have gotten. All it took though was telling someone just how bad it was for me to realize the only thing I’ve been doing the past seven months is digging my own grave. Maybe not intentionally but if I continue down the road I’m on, I fear I won’t last another seven months. I read an article on Facebook today about a 27 year old dietician, Tara Condell, who took her own life. She left a suicide note on her website, still it was days later when her fellow employees missed her at work that she was found. That is heart breaking for me. Her note was her cry for help that people heard far too late. It is the first paragraph of her letter that haunts me.  Not unlike something I would write myself at this given moment.

“I have written this note several times in my head for over a decade, and this one finally feels right. No edits, no overthinking. I have accepted hope is nothing more than delayed disappointment, and I am just plain old-fashioned tired of feeling tired.”

She takes the words right out of my mouth. Was it fate for me to see this article? She goes on to talk about things that I don’t quite understand at the moment like how good it seems she has it. Because I can for sure tell you I do not have it good. Perhaps at one time I did. But I no longer do. She speaks of things she will miss. Would I miss more than just my cats? That’s something I don’t have the answer to. Through her death and in her letter, Tara very well may have helped saved my life. I WANT to have it good once again. I WANT to have things to miss. I feel as though if someone had read this letter in time this sweet girl would still be here. Everybody’s low is different, true, and depression is not biased against who has it all and who doesn’t but coming from an insider this letter sounded like a cry for help. The real tragedy in suicide isn’t those left behind, it’s the life, often times cut too short.

images      Every forty seconds someone commits suicide. Could Tara’s have been stopped? I’m not sure. What I am sure of is that I owe it to her, her friends and her family to make sure mine stops. At my therapy appointment this morning I admitted to another human being that I sleep, on average 18 hours a day. That I have stopped taking my meds. That I have given up and I come home and read this. Coincidence? I think not. I am not alone in this disease.

My goals are small for now.  My therapist gave me two things to do. Personal hygiene and journaling. I have got to get in the habit of waking up and showering everyday no matter if I have anything to do or not. For my sake. For my sanity. And journaling. Well I have been needing to do that for some time. I have so much on my mind and very very few, if any body, to talk to about it all and thats why it’s so important that I get it down on paper and out of my head. I hadn’t realized just how much this one step could help out. Oh, and taking my meds. I’ve been on them for some time and even though I feel as though they don’t work I still owe it to myself to continue to try.


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Depression literally effects everything. From hygiene to work performance to relationships. If I hear one more person tell me it’s just an excuse I’m going to scream. It’s MORE than just an excuse. It’s a disease. It’s wanting so badly to get out of bed and do something about your life but not having the capacity to do so. It’s crippling. It’s kept me in bed for days at a time. It KEEPS me in bed.

Depression is like the feared dementor coming to bring you your last kiss. Everything turns cold and dark. Living with severe depression is like living after receiving your dementors kiss. You’re the living dead. Your soul gone. Everything dark, cold, and gray. Even sunshiny days seem dull. The will to live is gone.

I know this depression. I live this depression everyday. It’s a battle to get up every morning. To do menial task such as take a shower, clean, get ready for an event is monumental to me. It’s exhausting. My job has suffered from my depression. I’d rather be asleep than doing anything. If I’m asleep I don’t have to face the world and the fact that I’m sad. I’m probably losing my job soon. One of them at least. My main source of income. What will happen after that I don’t know. I had hope before this but it seems like everyday that goes by my depression gets worse and worse and worse. What will become of me? Will I just waste away? Or will I somehow find the strength to pick myself up?

Depression effects how well you clean. My room is a mess. There’s trash strewn about. Clothes everywhere. It’s not that I don’t want a clean room or a clean home but I’ve become so overwhelmed and going back to bed is just easier. It’s gotten to the point where I physically can’t get up to do anything anymore. I’m so low that my energy is shot. I don’t sit around and watch tv or eat bon bons. I sleep because my body and my soul is tired.

Depression effects relationships. You become paranoid that no one likes you and that everyone is against you and you will find that some people are. You will find that some people don’t understand mental illness and would rather stay that way than lend a compassionate heart or ear your way. Family starts drifting farther apart. You miss things. You get left out of things. People stop inviting you to things because you never show anyways.

Depression effects hygiene. Just getting a shower seems like running a marathon. Forget small things like shaving or brushing your teeth. You gain weight like crazy even though you’re barely eating. It’s like you’re body is preparing to hibernate for the rest of your life. Physical appearance isn’t one of your top priorities anymore. Sleep is.

Now that I’m soon to only be working one to two days a week again I’m afraid now more than ever I’m going to lose myself to this disease. This illness that is a burden to have and a burden for anyone who loves me. They have to watch me fall into the abyss. I know on Saturday I’m going to hear it’s an excuse and that’s fine. Some people don’t understand mental illness and that’s their choice. It’s not an excuse just like a diabetic having to take insulin and watch what they eat isn’t an excuse neither is being in the grips and the horror of full blow depression. If you’ve never slept more than two days in a row, woken up to see how horrible your house and your life looks, to full on projectile vomiting; then you my friend do not know depression. I am almost 30 and have had this disease since I was 11. That’s how old I was at my first suicide attempt. My last one was at the age of 14. I have wanted to since then but have remained hopeful that something will give. This is the worst my depression has ever been. Will I ever see the light again? I hope so. Only time will tell.

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Do I believe in love at first SIGHT? No way! Thats something out of books or movies, a fairy tale. Not something that happens in real life. What can happen in real life though is meeting someone for the first time and instantly having a connection. Having a sense of comfort around them that you don’t feel with everyone else. The ability to be open and honest and not shy and embarrassed. Having things in common that you don’t have with everyone else or that you haven’t had with anyone else prior. Fierce chemistry like someone had just doused both of you in baking soda and vinegar. The urge to want to get to know them on a deeper level. That can happen. And I know this because it happened to me.


I didn’t expect it nor was I planning on it. Here I am minding my own business, well I WAS on a dating site but the guy said he was only in town for one more night so I figured, no harm, no foul. I’ll show him around town on his last night and maybe have some decent company and at least I’ll get a meal out of it. I know, I know but hey it’s true. I got WAY more than I bargained for. For starters he has a smile that can warm an entire room. That’s what I noticed first. The second thing I noticed was he was genuine. He complemented my outfit and my necklace and I could tell he meant it.  He was engaging. The next thing I noticed was how much we had in common. We had an amazing night. I got to show him Tennessee Williams house which was so cool because we are both writers. We played pool and listened to the juke box. It was perfect. The only thing that could have made it better was for it to have lasted longer. And for me to have known about open mic night since he’s a musician.

That’s one of my favorites.

While he’s extremely talented, and we had an amazing night together he still had to go back home. Where’s home you ask. FL. How’s that for irony. The place I just left. Although I reckon if I weren’t here we wouldn’t have met. So I’m glad I was here. He plans to visit in January before he starts classes and I suppose we shall just wait and see what becomes of things. I am glad to have the opportunity to still continue to work on myself though and not have to be all inthralled in someone else immediately. But y’all I hadn’t even met the man and he got me to clean out the passenger side of my car. Thats progress. I mean it was still dirty but not nearly in comparison to what it was. Even the slightest thought of being with him makes me want to do better and be better and if it doesn’t work out, oh well. I tried. And thats what counts. I wasn’t even really expecting to meet someone so this is totally out of the blue for me. But like the Monty Python boys say “Nobody expects a Spanish inquisition.”  How I’ll handle the Spanish inquisition, well, I’ll keep you informed.



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If anything sums up my dating life its this GIF. The dating scene here in Columbus MS is about as broad as my knowledge in theoretical mathematics. We ain’t getting no where. I feel like I’m going to be single forever and I may very well be. My mom even said she was signing me up for Catholic Surely thats a joke at my expense right?! I’m horrified at the thought that I’m getting to the age where my parents are wanting to set me up. On an online dating site. I almost asked for three months of eharmony for Christmas. I can bet I would have gotten it. I think it hurts my parents to see me this single than it hurts me. Honestly most days I’m too stressed out avoiding the bill collectors and wondering if I’m going to have enough to keep the lights on to be worried about dating. But again I’m a year away from thirty so it is on my mind. I am female. I’m on every dating site known to man kind and nothing around here brings any luck. I thought I got lucky the other day. Cute guy, we had been texting for a while, come to find out he’s got a girlfriend. Why on Gods green earth this man was on the most obscure dating site but still. Why. MY LUCK is why. He says he’s looking for friends and something about gender roles. I have no idea, I was lost at “I have a girl friend”. Rightly so.

So if you’re looking forward to my sex in the city esc writing style I had in Pensacola you can kiss that dream goodbye. I sure have. That will not exist here. The only thing that exists here is loneliness and cat memes. And sad sappy Match box 20 songs.

I apparently want to push myself around because I landed myself in the zone of no return when it comes to dating. I don’t want to be alone forever but for now I’m stuck with me. And thats okay. My age is not but I’m overall okay with being alone. I’m honestly so busy I don’t have time to think about it and I’m so concerned with keeping my head on my shoulders its in the furthest reach of my brain, yes I’m lonely and yes I miss cuddling and kissing and what not but most of all I miss having someone to tell how my day was. And just go over what happened. I don’t have that. I’ve got to find that in myself. Maybe one day I will have that again in someone else but for now I’ll have to settle for the best. ME.


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Fitzgerald, one of Americas iconic writers didn’t become famous until after his death but that didn’t stop him from wanting to achieve his dreams and live a life he was proud of, and want it for his fellow peers. I have no idea what my future holds but what I do know is that I can’t give up now. My last post may have made it seem like I was ready to, and I’ll be honest I have days where I feel like I want to but something stops me. My will to live outweighs my will to give up. Or rather I’m just so tired sometimes that I can’t even do that. I’d rather wait it out and see what happens. As long as there is air in my lungs and blood flowing through my veins then I might as well try. I know my last post probably scared a lot of people but what you must know is that first of all I’m a writer, everything I feel is done with passion, I WAS feeling like ultimately giving up, yes. That comes with having borderline personality disorder. Suicidal thoughts are part of the depression I battle everyday. Its like a cannon going off amidst the artillery fire in an all out war. BUT A thought doesn’t necessarily mean an action.  Giving up isn’t an option for me, but starting over is,.

Starting over is hard and it hurts like hell. Its stressful. Its taking two steps forward and three back and somehow still making progress. Its unpacking all the boxes you’ve left unpacked or just throwing them away and accepting they are gone. Its accepting you may be eating ramen until the next power bill is paid. Starting over may mean staring at something you’ve started and accepting its time to let it go. OR perhaps go at it from a different angle. Starting over is leaving the job you’re not appreciated at even though its all you have, but you’ve come to realize you value your self worth a little more. Starting over is putting on PJ’s again at night instead of just falling asleep in your clothes. Starting over is loving yourself and letting everything else come afterwards.


Have you ever felt like you weren’t really alive? That somehow you had died and were trapped in this body? In this life? And that MAYBE it was purgatory. Lately I have felt this way. I sleep most of my days away. I ignore the bill collectors. I have 79 missed calls. I never go anywhere. I barely eat. I exist, I’m not living. I got out today to write this but not JUST to write this. I had to send my resume to my sister in hopes of getting a full time job. Something I desperately need.

“Its a no smoking sign on your cigarette break.” I smoke cigarettes. I have since I was 18. Its a terrible habit I know and hopefully one day when I beat this damn disease I can quit. I’ve been told I smell like smoke, I’ve been told I smell like cigarettes. I’ve even been told I need to spray something so I don’t smell for a job before, thats nothing out of the ordinary. But y’all I was told that I smelled like WEED. I haven’t smoked pot since I left FL and it was medicinally legal for me. And even then it was in concentrates and vapes. I haven’t heard that I smelled like WEED since, well, since my parents were accusing me of smoking it back in 09. I take things personally, words hurt. Maybe they aren’t meant to always but out of all the ways you could phrase something you say weed. First of all weed has a very very very distinct smell and cigarettes and weed don’t smell alike. At all. Thats why it felt like a blow to me. Because I know I may smell like cigarettes but I know theres no way in hell I smell like WEED. If my medicine allowed me to I would have cried my eyes out over this. I don’t dress like a “pot head”, I don’t talk like a “pot head”, I just don’t get it. I have been awake today longer than I have in at least three days. Sleep is all I can do. The meds aren’t working. I can’t afford therapy. I’ve been sick. Probably from stress or being upset.

I’m trying to start over guys. This is my story of picking up the broken pieces of a broken heart. IF your heart isn’t in it nothing will be and I’m finding thats why nothing seems to be working for me. My heart is so broken it can’t be in anything. I’m trying to heal. I’m trying desperately to stay here for myself and not just for the people that love me. Because let me tell you a life of merely existing and never living is a hell on earth. A minute feels like a hour. I can’t tell you the last time I laughed. I honestly can’t remember. Just admitting that and typing that out brings tears to my eyes. Everyone should know laughter and I haven’t known it for so long. If its the last thing I do its beat this disease, one way or another. I plan to start over. Today is a new day.

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I’m going to start this story by going backwards. Apparently I’m finding one thing I’m good at is denial. Its not just a river in Egypt but a state of mind I frequent. This was the last photo of us taken together. This is the last time I remember being “OKAY”. The last time you’ll see me in love. The last time you’ll see me loved by a man. I realized something tonight I was wrong about everything. I may have gotten bits and pieces right but the big parts I was wrong about. You know that haunting phrase “giving up got you to where you are now” that DPL said. Well its true. Maybe my life in Pensacola wasn’t so bad. And maybe I could have supported myself had I found a roommate and maybe things weren’t as terrible as they seemed. But tonight I think I know what he meant by that phrase. I gave up on him. I gave up on us. Two years ago this Thanksgiving I made the biggest mistake of my life. I broke up with a man that stood by me while I went into a mental hospital. I broke up with a man that put up with so much shit. Was he perfect? NO. Did he say and do things that were hurtful, yes. But nobody is perfect and we can only take so much. I sabotaged myself. I let a good thing go. He loved me. I think and I can’t get him back. I can’t take back what I did. He’ll never forgive me and for all I know he’s met a good girl by now. I wish things were easy. I wish I had realized sooner what I had done. I wish I hadn’t given up. I always do though. Thats what I’m good at. Thats the only thing I’m good at. Is giving up. I could win awards in giving up. Here is my song to DPL. My last love, and the biggest regret of my life.

I basically had no choice but to leave Pensacola. I had run out of money and resources. Even though things were good and I had insurance and a good job I couldn’t make it living alone. The cost of living was just too high. I was facing being homeless. I was given an opportunity here in Columbus MS. Shortly after moving here I was taken off my valium and told I was addict because I was on it in the first place. I wasn’t even taken off of it properly. The withdraws were awful. I quickly frequented 12 step meetings around town to help my mood and to help me socially. I wanted so badly for there to be an easy 12 step solution to my problem. The thing is, there isn’t. I suffer from depression and borderline personality disorder. Its not as easy as an allergy and an obsession, something I never understood in meetings. I can have one beer and be done. I don’t have to keep going. I do know people that do and I see it every week. It took me three months to admit to myself and to others that I wasn’t an alcoholic or an addict. Why did it take that long? Well I enjoyed being a part of something and honestly I was hoping and praying all it took was 12 steps to fix me. Its going to take A LOT more than that to fix me, if its even possible. Which at this stage in the game I’m not even sure. I sabotage everything. BUT If you read up on borderline personality disorder thats what they are best at. I begged DPL to read up on it. I had him read every book possible. I guess he just didn’t take it seriously. I just recently lost my job. I knew my hours were going to lessen but I just recently found out that I won’t be working at all. And then the anniversary of the biggest mistake of my life. I can’t deal. I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to do the ultimate version of giving up. I want to no longer exist. I have first handedly ruined my life. I have given up on love. Love has given up on me. My story is over. There is no happy ending.