As you can see, I took a break not too long after I started this whole blog thing. It was a lot emotionally to process my last post and I also started rereading Harry Potter shortly after which is like, all consuming until you finish. (and eventually start the whole process over again) Plus, ya know, a baby. As anyone who has been through anything traumatic knows, bringing up the event(s) can trigger a lot of emotion.  With my last post, it was so great to open up but I also felt a little overexposed.  I’ve always been pretty open about everything I’ve been through, to an extent, but I think it’s because I disassociate the events so it’s like explaining the plot of a movie I’ve seen. Writing it made it mine. It made it possible for the parents who have failed me to read about the mistakes they made and how it affected me and still does to this day.

I’m not sure if you are born with depression, if it’s inherited or if you develop it from life experiences, but I believe I’ve battled depression since I was young. I’ve been on  several medications and nothing has come around as my cure all yet. The OCD has always been lurking in the background but has only recently been thrown into a higher gear. My sisters and I were put into therapy when we were placed in foster care and I always immediately withdrew and eventually they gave up. After a very rough year, the year I left Bank of America, I decided to go see a therapist and try again. She was so great and after a few visits I was told I had depression, anxiety disorder, OCD and PTSD. The events of the year had taken a toll and finally brought everything out.

It’s been two years since I’ve seen the therapist last, and though I agree with some of what the therapist said and diagnosed me with, I think that a lot of doctors can’t see past making a diagnosis. I’m still a person. I’m a person who had shitty things happen to them. I’m not going to be a medicated zombie just because I’ve had shitty things happen to me. I refuse! I feel like that’s letting my past be all that I am. It would be so easy to just pop a pill and forget, but instead when things come up I deal with them and move on. Maybe it comes up again, maybe it doesn’t,  but feeling sadness or anger is better than never feeling anything.

I feel like with being this open, I can maybe start to actually move past these things, like they have been dealt with. Ever since I had Ellee, the depression has been almost nonexistent. Thankfully. But, the OCD may not ever go away. I think that is how my adopted mom conditioned me and I can’t overcome the urge to clean something when I see it or straighten a sign when I walk past. It makes me feel a sense of control, as my best friend put it the other day. It’s funny though, because people said it would go away when I had Ellee and it’s only gotten more extreme. I’m home all day so I have to have everything clean or I feel like I have a constant to do list in my head. When I’m crafting or painting is really the only time I feel like I don’t have to be so in control and organized. It’s great to have an outlet, and art is definetly mine. It’s not that I think I’m good, but I can kind of see the emotions behind what I paint and remember how I felt at the time. It’s getting it out and moving past it because it’s been documented, like a picture journal almost. Writing about it means that everyone knows what I’m saying, but painting it is like a secret language only I can read.

I’m very thankful to have received so much support from everyone after my last post, it’s great to be able to have an open conversation about things with people who have known me for years and had no idea. These subjects are not light and fluffy but they are life, and it’s not always going to be the happy Instagram worthy moments that you share with people. Sometimes you have to be transparent and show your other dimensions, that’s how you really get to know someone.

Thank you for reading! Now, it’s Friday, go enjoy it!!


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