what happened to stina?

I don't know when this all started. I suffered from depression for a long time but i always got over it, got myself out of it somehow. I experienced at least some bit of joy in my life. I used to live my life with this motto, "live fast and experience everything. hold your loved ones close and never forget the things you've been through or the journeys that got you there"(something to that effect) and now i can't even relate to it. I did things with my time, i had friends, i went on adventures, i left nothing but footprints and took nothing but photographs. I was silly, a drunk but a fun drunk. And now when i drink i turn into this monster i don't even recognize. This monster who sucks the fun out of every shindig, who cries or throws up everytime. I miss my life. I miss living. I miss myself.

I used to have this great personality. I used to be the person who had a story for just about everything that happened to me. I did things! I once had a threesome with my ex boyfriend and his girlfriend. I once went to rave and took ectasy and break danced with some random black guy. i once almost got hit by a train and laughed about it. i once got in school suspension and wrote an erotic novel while i was there. i once made out with 18 girls in one night because i turned 18. i was in an all chick punk band called toxic shock syndrome and played a show at the webster theatre. I met my boyfriend at the end of a driveway at a party my ex-boyfriend dragged me to. And when my ex told me he wanted to fuck around, i showed him up by making the move on the future love of my life, in front of him. I was brave. I didn't give a fuck what people thought or how stupid i was because i was living my fucking life. Now i worry every word i say. Now no one listens to me. Now i have no motivation. now i don't have any friends. My friends were once my life. We had this crew, we were called the Krispy Krew. We played kickball and met up at the krispy kove every weekend. We ran shit, threw parties, invited whoever, popular, loser, jock, slut...and i was accepting. for the love of god, i could accept anyone for any of their flaws and in fact, love them for it. I got along with everyone. I had people in my life i thought i would never lose. Like colin, bass and kevin. The four of us were like family. I was like a second mother to those kids. I chauferred them around, i paid for their shit, i fed them. i held their hair back when they threw up(and yes i had to because all these kids had shoulder length hair). or my toxic shock syndrome girls, ginny, missa and mindy. Me and mindy have been friends since we were three years old. but now, everyones too busy with their lives and i understand that and i've come to accept it. But what i can't accept is the fact that I haven't moved on with my life. I thought i did, i used to get along with marks friends, they started to feel like mine, but he made it a point to not let them become my friends. They weren't real because the second we break up, those people are gone too...

Let's face it, over the past couple years, i've lost my mind. I've become weak and scared. Too afraid to go out into the world, i creep around every corner, i walk on egg shells. When i drink, i can't squash myself down because i'm fighting to break free. But when i finally break free i'm embarassed for a week after and feel horrible for letting myself out...

All i do with my life now is hang out over at my moms house because thats where i feel comfortable. And work my ass off because i have to. And sit in front of the tv with my boyfriend because thats all he does with me. Scroll facebook but never say anything. And i look forward to coming home so i can light candles and sit here alone...

there has to be more to life than this...there has to be some way of reclaiming bits and peices of that person i once was or becoming the person i want to be.

I have little faith in healthcare officials. i lost it at my psychatists office this morning. I called yesturday and conviently she wasn't in the office, as fucking always. I was having panic attacks all night sunday and all day monday. I needed something and the only thing i had to take is a fuckign antihistamine that is supposed to help with nervousness. It's garbage and does nothing. So i got no help from her. i called my doctors office and he was no help either, because he wouldn't fill anything for me either. So i went into my appoinment with my psychiatrist this morning, still feeling the same. And she starts in on the fact that i'm not in therapy and she starts yelling at me about it. I don't need this shit. Then she refuses to fill something for me. I told her i understood that i'm supposed to be in therapy but i can't fucking afford it. I spend 100 dollars a month alone on prescriptions and it costs me forty bucks just to see my psychiatist for 15 minutes a month. I don't have the fucking money for this shit. So she refuses to fill anything for me to calm down on the grounds that i'm not in therapy. Well i'm having a fucking breakdown, i'm losing it. My stomach is in knots and i can't eat or sleep, what does she expect me to do? Fucking call my therapist and go in right then and there? Long story short, i stormed out of there. She left me with the only option which was to go to the hospital, which i didnt do and why 48 hours later i'm still sitting here anxious as fuck.

i will never see this woman again, i dont care how long it takes me to find a new psychatist, she has been nothing but trouble for me since i first started seeing her. People with mental health conditions need to be able to get a hold of theres psychs. They should be able to get something to fucking calm down when they need. They shouldn't be sent to the fucking hospital every fucking time they have an anxiety attack. She should be the least bit capable of talking to me so i can calm down, and she proved today when all she said was, "The tissues are over there," she can't do that. fucking bitch.

South II (a review on the mental health condition in the US)

I checked into South II on Sunday October 2nd, 2011 sometime around 4pm. I had spent my night in the emergency room and much of my morning. To be put bluntly, there are some serious fucking screw ups in how mental health patients are "treated". First of all, the psychiatrist in the emergency room asked me a total of two questions. Then he left and went to talk to my mother for twenty minutes. My trazone and hungover body could barely fathom what my mother was telling me. Involuntary commitment? a week? He lied about visiting hours and promised therapy for me (more on that later). They carted my ass upstairs, showed me around the wing and sent me off on my own, to cry in my room for hours without anyone coming to me except for OTHER PATIENTS. Granted, i was lucky. most of the patients were former junkies or alcoholics, i did not have nut jobs or schizophrenics coming in my room hasseling me. I did meet one woman who checked in on me, attempted to get me to eat and comforted me. She was a very compassionate person and will always hold a place in my heart.

On weekends, there is no group therapy. You also cant smoke around hospital now soooo...i was forced to quit,,,until i came home... You also don't see a psychiatrist. You also aren't allowed to have electronics, no gameboy, no laptop, no kindle...nothing. Your allowed books and writting materials. there is also NOTHING TO DO IN A HOSPITAL! So you take all these people with mental problems....lock them in a wing of a hospital...and give them nothing but old disney vhs tapes to watch.

When monday finally came, my talks with my psychiatrist were unsuccessful. He didn't listen to me and i saw him for a total of five minutes. I spent the entire day crying in my bed, taking my xanax every four hours. When i finally did get out of bed for a group therapy session, guess what it is? coloring. filling out stupid worksheets. There is no talking things out, nothing. And the therapist i was promised? Yeah....you don't have a therapist. The occupational therapist came in and asked me questions like where i work and shit like that and left and i never saw her again for the rest of my stay.

When i told my mother on her vist monday night she was livid. The nurse who hated me through my entire stay and was a total bitch me, like calling me "Smiley" bullshit to my mom that i need to talk to the other patients and i need to come out of my room or i won't go home and that this is short term care and that we get no therapists.

Ok....locked up, no cigarettes, just made one of the biggest mistakes of my life, need to work through this shit and i have no one to talk to except people who have their own problems? great.

So tuesday, i make the attempts and the doctor puts me on a new medication and i feel ok. I am the one who drafts up my recovery plan. I am the one who writes down how i'm feeling and is trying to evaluate everything in my life and what i need to fix, while these people....aren't helping me. I am the one making myself happy. I am only taking the xanax when i have to see the doctor because this is the person that decides when i go home. I bring in my recovery plan, i tell him i want to restart my life and being locked up is just making me stir crazy.

....i'm released finally on thursday. I was the one to pull myself out of that bottomless pit. i was the one who decided what i was doing on the outside. i was the one talking myself through this miserable experience, no matter how hard it was. This is how we cure our mental health patients? by just locking them in a hospital, making them draw pictures of trees to evaluate their personalities and giving them no one to talk to? FUCK THAT! this makes me absolutly reassured in the fact that i am NOT going into this field and i am THRILLED i stopped going to school for it.

This is a vow to myself to never give up, there is always a reason to keep living. there is always a reason to keep trying. there will always be people who see me as irreplacable. there will always be someone who cares. today, i start trying. today, august 29th, 2011, I'm done with my old ways of thinking and doing. i want to be a happy energetic person. I will find a way to quit smoking. I will start working out again. i will have some form of control over my diet. i will take care of my body and stop doing harmful things to it.
I vow to work hard on my mental health. i will try to not be ashamed of things i do or say. this is my life and i will not waste it dwelling on things that i cannot change. i will try new things, talk to people, make my own friends, surround myself with people who care about me, who are positive influences on my life.
I will be wiser with my money so mark and i can start our lives together. i will stop being a selfish, spoiled bitch. i will hold my family close to me. I will treat mark with nothing but respect and love, i will never give him a reason to see me as untrustworthy. i will stop letting my depression and my emotions destroy this relationship.
the past is gone, i can't do anything about it. I can't sit here and let it destroy my life. The people who were once in my life were there when i needed them, i can't expect them to always be there. We may be on seperate paths now but there is always a reason for that. If i'm meant to see them again, i will, and i will be there with open arms, thrilled as can be that they are back. until then, they have made their lives without me and its time for me to pick up the peices and build my life up again. There will always be other people who can make me happy. There is always happiness within myself, i just have to put some fucking effort into my goddamn life again.

poland spring vodka, pokemon shorts and vicoprofen

...i had the weekend from hell. I'll be brief about it but i got hammered on friday with my brothers and their friends. well i called mark for a ride because i was too drunk to drive, he made a big deal...had my brother fight with him for me while i hid. huge argument, mark left. I was single for about 12 hours but too drunk to realize this really was so. Anyway, i came home around 5 in the morning. we fought, then we passed out, then we spent the rest of the day fighting while i packed my shit. I didn't wanna go. Yeah, he does things that piss me off and sometimes it feels he's a little controlling. I've been patient, i realize that he's never been in another relationship and doesn't know what hes doing. I know it's only because he loves me and is so afraid of losing me...but still. and then i get drunk and suddenly i have the balls so say what i've been feeling and i make everything worse.

Anyway, i somehow got him to stop making me pack my bags under a few conditions. He told me to stop drinking. generally this would piss me off but i've had a feeling for a long time that i have a drinking problem. I never know when to stop. I do stupid things. i embarass myself, i forget conversations i've had and whats the point to get so fucking wrecked like that? I'm afraid though, because alcohol has always been my way to open up and actually be myself...and thats another reason to stop. I don't know if i can be any fun without booze but i can try.

Other than that, the rest isn't important. Except for the fact that he compared me to my aunt and that he is convinced i sucked one of my brothers friends off...but it goes without saying how that made me feel...

Anyway, to cheer myself up i went shopping alone today. I bought two pairs of shorts at hot topic, generally i wouldnt shop there, its expensive. It's so fake. Like i mean, c'mon their motto used to be, "It's all about the music" and there is now no music shit in that store except for maybe a couple my chemical romance cds, but who listens to that garbage? Anyway, one pair was sublime, the other pair i'm ecstatic about. They have pikachu on the front and in big letters across the ass it say pokemon. yeah, i'm a nerd but i'm damn proud of it.

I got a few tops at sears, one is pink zebra stipes...i'm so happy the animal prints are now in style because i love it. As for the rest of my day I've been spending it in bed with toots, techno music and vicoprofen, for my back which is fucked up AGAIN.

Oh and i would have posted pictures but i have no idea how to on this website? will someone tell me how?

the good stuff

Aside from stupid relationship problems, i really am doing great. I've been just working and spending the rest of my time on myself. I've been going to the gym at least 4 times a week. I tried zumba, and although i fucked up my ankle and had to leave early, i totally intend on adding it to my workout routine. And for the days that i cant make it to the gym, i have just dance for the wii :). other than exercise i've been listening to a lot of music because finally I'm so past this horrible depression thing I acutally find joy in things again. Huzzah! I've also been spending a lot of time with my kindle and dun dun dun na, I'm writing again. I wrote six poems alone last week. The only thing i want to work on is building strong friendships with people, which is the only thing that has proved to be sort of challenging. but i'm trying to get myself out there and i'm hoping maybe if i start doing stuff like these gym classes or maybe even hiking, i'll have real friends...not just drinking buddys.

on a side note, anyone know any fantastic books to read?

unsure

...Mark and I have been fighting a lot and the core issue of this problem seems to stem from his sudden interest in leaving the house and hanging out with his friends, constantly, for very long periods of time. and if i ask him to come home, generally he'll stay out even later, lets say about 2 or 3 in the morning. He says i'm free to come along but theres nothing for me to do (and I work). his friend doesnt shower and smells like an armpit. i dont play an instument. i am shy and will no sing in front of people i dont like. i get unbelievably drunk so i can have a good time. there is no where to sit but on the floor in the hallway while i sit there ignored.

I'm starting to feel like maybe he's regressing. it feels like when we moved into his parents house i became more depressed and afraid to go out while he's turned into drunken teenager and unfortunatly I'm on the same side his parents are on or were on in high school. The thing is, i dont mind him going out. yes, i am jealous that i dont have these freedoms but i try not to let myself prevent him from doing it, everyone deserves to have friends. but its becoming more and more frequent and he can never come home early enough to spend time with me and if he does, he's plastered and falls asleep. I'm just frustrated and i truely think that this would not be an issue for me if he would just come home, ONCE, JUST ONE TIME, when i call him around 11pm and he would get in the car and just come home. just one time. but he hasnt done that, not yet. and somehow when we fight about this issue he convinces me i'm wrong. and i'm worried because i'm becoming apathetic towards the relationship because i'm confused and unsure.

He's not very mature and just through living with his parents for this short while, he has already proved to them that they will not sign for a mortgage loan when we move out. He works at costco, comes home and plays video games or guitar and watches tv. If he's not doing any of that then he is out with his friends. I on the other hand was trying. I was going to school but now its like, why am i bothering. Why do i have to work fulltime and go to school fulltime to better OUR lives if he only works part time and has fun all the time? Why do i have to be trapped in his parents house constantly? Why is it a big deal if i go out and get a little reckless once in a while but if he does it and i flip out, i'm just exagerating. i'm sick of it. if i try to talk about it, he flips out at me. And it worries the fucking shit out of me. Because why would anyone get so fucking defensive about going out?

Then the scary thoughts start creeping in like...is there a girl coming to these horrendous jam sessions that I don't know about? Is he going to bars and stuff with his friends? Is he secretly gay and having butt sex with his friend? (haha) .....the thing is i dont know but i'm still not desperate enough to go spend 7 hours at his smelly friends house, thats for sure....