Hello everyone who's ever read my blog posts. I successfully made it through college and just got my bachelor's in arts for psychology. Now I have to figure out what I'm doing with my life. On this road to recovery I have decided to stop taking my anti-psychotic meds. I was on Risperdone and the doctor was switching me to abilify, but I've decided to stop doing the song and dance. I'm going to stop fighting my mental illness and instead embrace it. Plus a part of me wonders if I'm just making it all up for attention, so I want to go 90 days without medication and see what my symptoms are like at the end. I'm hoping through working out and eating healthy I can lose some of this weight I gained while on these meds. I think I'll be okay, but expect more updates and more activity from me on this website as I navigate life med-free and possibly therapist-free.

what is the point of having "friends" on facebook when you just stare at their profile pictures and can't even message them because you know that they'll either ignore you or they don't care or they don't know what to say. I feel like I have no one to talk to. I just don't get it. I find more solace posting things anonymously on tumblr than talking to people I know in real life. But do I really 'know' them anyways? They don't really 'know' me so I can't really expect that they've been transparent with me either.

I watch shows and see characters having deep conversations with each other. Heart to heart conversations...

I ... I can't really remember a time when someone's opened up to me like that. Ever.

I open up sometimes to people and then uh.. that's it.

One-sided.

Wow how quickly things can change.

I took 11 ativan to get high. And then I figured I shouldn't miss my nightly regimen of my wellbutrin, seroquel, and ambien. And then after that I figured maybe if I had a pint of beer I wouldn't wake up the next morning. That thought made me happy. And so I had a pint of beer on top of all that.

But I woke up the next morning.

And I drove to work.

And crashed my car into a pickup truck.

Pretty sure my car is totaled. I was driven to the hospital. I'm being charged with a DUI.

I have even more bills now that I can't juggle or pay. I have no way to get to work really, so my shifts are being cut, so I'm not making money to pay for all this.

I don't know how I'm going to either get my car fixed or get another used car for work.

And honestly... I don't know if I have it in me to continue.

I thought losing my fiancee to drugs and losing my visa and Australia and way of life and cat and friends and readjusting to American life/stupid ass culture and rules and #######5 pay and #######5 politics was hard enough? Two years later, battling PTSD, insomnia, depression, anxiety....... like F*ck man, how much can I take???

And now... now this... a wrecked car, possible DUI record and whatever follows that charge, and new hospital bills ontop of old ones and everything.

Like yeah, it's great that I'm alive and left that car crash without a scratch.

But I wish, I really wish that maybe I would have just crashed my car into a tree that morning and died on impact because facing all of this is ridiculous.

I don't know how I'm going to make it to my psychiatrist appointment on Monday to get more of the seroquel since I can't afford to fill that script. Without my seroquel I have schizophrenic-like symptoms, especially under stress.

And since I'm crashing at my brother's for awhile until I figure what the hell I'm doing with my life, if I don't have my seroquel I'm scared I might commit a homicide-suicide. I get extremely paranoid, I start feeling like I'm not in control of my body, I hear people's thoughts, I start to hear voices, and I start to feel really out of control and crazy. And my brother has all kinds of unlocked guns and ammo around the house. Like literally around the house. His handgun is either on a table or whatever and his semi-automatic is just laying on the couch upstairs surrounded by magazines of ammo.

I've asked him before to lock his guns up, but he told me that he doesn't believe in locking up guns. He believes in education so people know the proper use of guns.

Living at my brother's is chaotic because him and his wife are in the middle of a possible divorce. This morning I woke up to them arguing and when I left the house to bus home to get away for a while, I once again heard his wife yelling at him really bad and slamming doors and crying uncontrollably. But I'm not allowed to cry about my situation.

I'm not allowed to get upset.

Ever.

I don't even know why I'm even publishing this here. Why I'm typing this out.

I just... how do I keep doing this? What am I living for?

So I have my own room now. And I'm getting recognition at work. And I guess I'm getting somewhere with therapy. But it's starting to get hard. Really hard. I'm trying to get answers, but I'm just met with more questions. It's all kind of frustrating but I guess exciting?

My therapist listened, as she always does, to the recent developments and drama encircling my pathetic life. She then asked me a simple (or so I thought) question: What do you make of all this suffering? I shrugged and said that others had it much worse. She then said, "But what about YOUR suffering? What do you make of all it?" I then tried to think of reasons why I would need to be facing all the problems I am facing... and I couldn't answer her. I remembered why I needed to persevere though... I knew that I'm that person that even though I only have five bucks in my pocket and none in my bank account, I'll give most of it away to that poor chap on the corner holding a cardboard sign. I'm that person that picks up hitch hikers and listen to the homeless tell me their story. I'm that person that tries so desperately to help when I can. Eat less meat, drive less, give more, listen to a friend, etc. So it was obvious to me that the world needs someone like me, that I need to continue living. But I still ponder as to why I need to suffer while I do all these things.

And then it hit me... and I wrote this on my phone and I would like to share it with you guys... whoever you are. I don't know.. here it goes anyways.

It doesn't matter what the pain means. Pain is in every life; it may feel different between different people, or last longer, or subside sooner. Life will either become better or worse or stay the same. But I gotta just be okay with that and choose to exist. Why am I still struggling to cope with the idea of being committed to life? I need to want to live for myself and not for others. Why do I want to live?

I want to live to see the end of homestuck. I want to travel to different cities and try their food and hear their accents or languages or dialects. I want to read more books and see more movies. I want to play chess and continue getting good at it to the point where I could join a tournament and hold my own. I want to make my parents proud.

I can't do any of these things if I'm cowering from life and crying all the damn time. I've allowed myself to feel sadness. It is time to let go and let another emotion wash over me. And I think I can feel the tantalizing whisper of joy in my ear. Am I out of this shitstorm for more than an hour or day? I won't know. And it doesn't matter. What matters is the present moment.

The whole secret of existence is to have no fear. Never fear what will become of you, depend on no one. Only the moment you reject all help are you freed. - Buddha