Thursday, April 20, 2017

still not dead.....just barely

Damn... do you all remember when you couldn't shut me up? When I wrote all the time?

My mental health took a nasty turn a bit ago and the suicidal soundtrack that backs my life, changed to suicidal plans. It was like the perfect storm of crap whirling in a tornado that I couldn't avoid.

It was....scary.

very scary.

To the point that I had to activate the KEEP YOUR SELF ALIVE AT ALL COSTS protocol that we came up with in therapy.

Just hanging on the life preserver wasn't enough. I had to let go with one hand and swim to shore.

The SIV urges have been INSANE.

It was no small feat that I am alive and injury free today.

Honestly, I am amazed I survived.

Yes. 

Yes I have follow up doctor appointments to try and prevent a repeat of this next month.

Still 2 weeks out from the eye doctor appointment about my blurry eyes. It's so frustrating. I can't see to type. Can't read the screen easily. makes it difficult.

Worse its affecting my job. We are switching to electronic medication books....and I can't clearly see the training videos.

I have tried and I can't write through the blurry-ness. It is soooooo frustrating. I'm having pockets of mental clarity where I am jotting down blogs and story ideas. Then sit down to blog and end up so discouraged.

So that is my update. I survived a recent bout of extreme suicidalness, and a barrage of intense SIV urges. Still struggling with prednisone side effects, and a flair up the polymyositis, blurry vision and a whole shit can of peri-menopause symptoms that are just stirring the pot with fiendish glee.

I can tell you....if I have to do that again next month I am just going straight to the ER and having them lock me up. That took EVERYTHING I had.

PCP visit May 1st, Eye Doctor May 5th, Rheumatologist May 10th.....and hopefully an Endocrinology appointment soon.

Cause my thyroid gets blamed for all my symptoms.....and my thyroid is a shriveled up radiated dead thing. How the hell can it be causing all this???

urgg, I have enough health issues to be a whole season of House MD.

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

health update

Bleah.

That about sums up my health status right now.

Right now I am having an episode of burry vision. (um, hellooo that is a MS symptom...that all the doctors are ignoring.)

The muscle weakness/pain in my legs and increased. I can no longer walk up stairs without my legs screaming/becoming shaky.

I can't hold any thing in my arms/hands. My biceps become painful/weak/shaky. I sat with a baby on my lap for ~40 minutes the other day. All I had to do was hold my arms out slightly and around him like a seat belt. That left my arms just screaming and weak.

The prednisone is helping with the joint/arthritis pain, that is something.

My head has been trying to kill me all winter.

Seriously.

I have so much to write about. But the brain fog is crippling me. Its killed the writer in me. My writers pail isn't empty it's GONE.

I don't know if its a medication side effect or not but I AM NOT AMUSED.

I am about to go ape-shit on the medical profession and throw my own poo at them until they figure out what is going on and help me.

I have not abandoned my blog. I'm just on walk-a-bout trying to find my freaking mind.

Kids! thyroid brain fog, just say NO!!

In the time it took me to hold out my hands and type this, my biceps are now weak and shaky.

I am hoping that forcing my self to write a few blogs will coax the writer out. Or at least leave a bookmark in my blank mind so I can find my way back.

Public speaking about self injury - the begining

So how the heck did I end up being a public figure who talks about self injury? Me, super shy, eccentric nut who doesn't even feel connected to the human race.

It can be tracked back to my late twenties.  It was post therapy. I was enrolled in abnormal psychology in college and in the text book, they had a few paragraphs about self injury.

um.

A few WRONG paragraphs about self injury.

It rubbed me the wrong way that this miss information was being taught to  students who would go on to treat clients who self injured.

Why were "professionals" making guesses and drafting theories about SI. I remember wondering why don't they just ask the self injurers?

We had to do a project. Our choices were a paper or a 10 min presentation. I choose to do a 10 min presentation on SIV. (self inflicted violence) I boiled all my knowledge on the subject down and calmed my nerves and waited to present my speech.

I had consciously chosen to wear 3/4 sleeves that day to hide my scars. I wanted the talk to focus on the topic not my scars. I didn't want the talk to be a show and tell...and have the focus shift from the reasons why people self injure to the scars.

People tend to see self injury scars and respond with "ooh that person is crazy!"

I didn't want them to go into my talk already judging me as being crazy.

As class started I was the second presenter. When it was my turn I began by announcing my topic and asking for a show of hands of everyone who had never self injured. I then asked them to put their hands down if they had ever gotten a tattoo or a piercing, and kept listing things, scratched a bug bit till it bled, slapped their face in anger, bit there lip, punched a wall in anger, had more then one sun burn.... until all the hands were down.

"You have all self injured. Lets look at how this behavior gets escalated to the other end of the spectrum, of cutting , burning, bone breaking, self surgery."

At that point I said launched into a condensed, raw look at self injury.

At the end of my 10 minutes the teacher opened it up for questions.

and for the next FORTY minutes I answered questions and discussed in more detail self injury. The hunger for more info touched me. People spoke up and asked for help "My niece cuts...what can we do to help her?"

Near the end I pushed back my sleeves and fessed up to being a person who lives with SIV. Which, by the looks of some people caught them off guard. It started another round of questions.

We went waaaaay over the allotted time. The professor called an end to the talk just moments before class was dismissed.

I got an A+

More then that I got a boost to my self esteem. It was a huge push to my soul that would lead me to be more open and reach out to other self injurers. That lecture was my turning point. My ground zero. I was now an teacher/advocate  on the subject.

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

Explaining your self inury to your children - When mom hurts

Was interviewed recently for an article about living with SIV.  The reporter was following my healing time line and taking notes.

There was a gap of seven or so years between therapy and starting to write on the message boards. I mentioned I wrote/drew a few things for the "The Cutting Edge:  A Newsletter for People Living with Self-Inflicted Violence" a snail mailed newsletter in that time, but completely, COMPLETLY forgot to mention my greatest contribution to the world of SIV education that occurred in that time frame.

I'm going to blame it on my annoying thyroid brain fog. Ha! Anyway I figured I should put it on here, before I forget about it again!

It's for parents who self injure to explain it to their kids. The age range for this book is 4-6 years old.

















There was a time after hypnotherapy ended where I was just living and putting into practice all the skills I had learned there and in therapy. I worked and returned to school and just dipped my toes back into living with the human race.

It was in that time I found the Cutting Edge. I was pre-internet and it was the only support group for people living with self inflicted violence. A place were we could talk openly about self injury.

In one edition  in 1994 a woman named Ann vented a long letter about her situation and life with self injury. As she poured out her guts she lamented, "Why isn't there a book to help me explain my self injury to my kids?"

I thought, because no one has asked before.

And I wrote When Mom Hurts that very day. I sat on the manuscript for a few years not really sure how I wanted to proceed with it.

In 2002 on the self injury message boards, I began having to reply to a lot of mothers who wanted to know how to respond to their children's questions about their scars. I finally dug out the manuscript and put in some illustrations.

Those drawings were intended as temporary fillers until I had time to go back and properly illustrate it. I ran some rough draft copies to get feed back and sent them out. I figured the book would take a few months or so to finalize and boil down to its finally polished version.

I didn't fully comprehend the NEED for this book.

It took off and went like wild fire in its rough draft state! The cutting edge reviewed the rough draft and I started getting request from all over the world for copies.

I even got connected with Ann and sent her a copy.  It was so cool to talk to her!

The story doesn't end there. When my son was 7ish or so he came up to me and told me the shirt  I was wearing was his favorite one on me.

I was cleaning the garage and the shirt was a ratty old stained one. It was gross. I said "really? why?"

He smiled and said. "because it has long sleeves, and hides your ugly scars."

His words gouged my heart and took my breath away.  I had never hidden my scars and didn't normally wear long sleeves.

Wounded I retreated to the message board and wrote this:

after calming down and stepping off the anxiety train last night, I realized my son was pointing out to me the need for me to write a sequel.

As a writer it never ceases to amaze me how little control over my gift I have. I very, very seldom choose to write a story. They just come busting in to my mind and DEMAND to be written.

"When mom hurts" is aimed at introducing the topic of SIV to young kids. Designed to stir up conversation and more questions.

So its time now to answer those questions.

here is a peak into the writing process of my mind.
First I need a working title. (So I know what to call the project until its name comes to me.)
easy that one named its self.

"Long Sleeves"

Now to wait with yellow legal pad and zipped mouth and open ears to clearly hear what my son has to say when I interview him later today.
I can't answer his questions until he asked them. Its been too long since my farm kids asked me stuff, I don't remember what I told them, or how I handled things back then.

I know I will be unable to answer all his questions...and the book will stir up more. (great just got a commission for the conclusion of the trilogy)

Some where in my massive pile of things to finish are the manuscript for Long Sleeves for ages 7-10 and the conclusion of the trilogy that is for ages 11-15.

I should really finish them one day.

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

mountains of glass

In the dark of the night I walked to work. Another storm brewing in the mountains. Snow on the ground. Town tucked in and ready to wait it out.

It was me the hush of a light snow fall and the darkness.

Eons ago in hypnotherapy I was asked to pick a image to be used as a switch to activate instant relaxation mode for all of my system.

I choose falling snow.


Because its so peaceful and quiet, and that was the place in my head I wanted to recreate/go to.

My hypnotherapy lessons have stuck with me. I still use them to this day.

So as I walked in the snowy night, I let my mind wander. A time of introspection and soul searching.

This one thing I miss about working in GP. The commute was 45 min of time to do this. A kind of self therapy session. Just me and my head.

I am still grappling with the diagnosis. That is what my head choose to discuss this dark night.

I have what is commonly referred to as "an invisible illness."

You would not look at me and think, "Oh, she is ill."

I once cared for a lady with multiple sclerosis. She told me that her daughter didn't believe that she was ill, and used to think she was faking it. Her daughter used to stab her in the legs with a fork to try to prove to her that there was nothing wrong with her muscles.

Sobering thoughts as I am finding my physical ability deteriorating.


I am struggling with coming to terms with the diagnosis's of myositis and rheumatoid arthritis. My body is struggling also with the natural winding down of my menses too. Peri-menopause + major illness + thyroid trouble + lifelong depression = more upheaval in my life then I want.


I took 2 week off last October with the intention of organizing my "healing journey" manuscript. It's all there I just need to put it in the right order and fill in any missing spots. I spent those two weeks riding out the side effects of being placed on prednisone and grappling with the new diagnosis. Brain fog so bad I could write even if I wanted too.


The arthritis in my hands so severe I wasn't sure I was going to be able to go back to work with then vacation was over. The S.A.D kicking my ass and open the door for my head to declare OPEN SEASON on me. I've spent the last 4 month fighting tsunami sized waves of suicidal thoughts.


Leading me to make a bucket list. Things to do while I still physically can. As I walked that night, the thing that my soul burped up first to put on the bucket list was to go visit the obsidian flow at the lava beds.

To stand with the mountains of shiny black glass. To marvel at the beauty that was born from such a chaotic violent birth.

I haven't been to the lava beds since I took the farm kids close to 20 years ago.  My parents took me there a lot as a child.

The history is deep and rich. The caves are all different and cherished friends.

Then there is the obsidian flow......it defies description. You go through the woods and then the trees give way to a massive. MASSIVE mountain range of beautiful volcanic glass. The sun just lights it up. There are huge boulders, small make-me-into-arrowheads pieces, and every size in between.

I once climbed it. The glass that dislodges in my wake made a tinkling sound as it danced down the hill side.

My soul needs to stand and cry with the mountains of glass. Sharp. shiny, black, dear dear old friends.  I need to see my reflection in the darkness of the obsidian. To search for the snow flake obsidian and see that snow can be captured and perfectly preserved, confirming that like me, beauty can exist in violent places.

To wait for the sun to find the rainbow obsidian...it's so much like me...when the sun catches us just right, you can see a rainbow in our darkness.

I need to travel to this sacred place and bath in the caves, and drink the obsidian.

I need  to grieve this new development in my guardian training.

Thursday, February 9, 2017

Guest blogger again (What a surprise! :p -That guest)

iNSaNiTY & Justice


Crazy Or Justice?

What is the point anymore?

Is there even a reason for me to keep living?

All I am going to do is bring suspicion unless I tell them...

Or should I say the reason is because I just want to protect them all?

Well... That is the truth, regardless...

That is the reason why I’m hiding my right eye...

Why it’s always covered by my eyepatch...

Which side am I on anymore?

I can’t... Tell... Any... More....

“Nngh!”

Rurik Maeki noticed that I yelled. He rushed over and asked, “Hey! Vyviaka, are you okay?” I looked at him with a look saying “You don’t need to know”. All of our classmates started at us, just thinking how strange I am.

I noticed that I haven’t explained anything yet, have I? I am Vyviaka Saizono, a high school girl at Hope’s Peak Academy. I live in the city of Quirie. My hair goes right to my shoulders, as it is black. My right eye is covered by my eyepatch. I wear it to hide... Ah... Her... presence... My red eye also has a scar, a scratch mark on it. My left eye is blue, the sign of Justice in me. I wear Gothic black clothes. A long sleeved shirt, think black pants, a skirt, and a red bow in my hair on the right side. You can blame her for that. Who is her, you ask? Well, why don’t I tell you in a way that she would appreciate?

She is Darkness itself... She doesn’t care for anyone at all... She kills anyone she hates with a passion.... The serial killer, iNSaNiTY, kills with no mercy... You can know when she is near because she sings a certain song when she hunts her prey... (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Loa68uh9BI&t=1706s)

“Everything is said and done,
Everyone has had their fun,
Time to make an exit from this fairy, tale,
My departure was forseen,
from the very beginning,
Assume life of insanity...”
“Hello, nice to meet you,
You seem familiar,
Have I met you before?
Goodbye, Sweetie,
Nice, to see you haven’t
talked, in quite a while”

“iNSaNiTY
The weight of the air is torture,
Psychopathy,
Don’t know who I am anymore,
iNSaNiTY
The illusion of ignorance,
Captivity,
iNSaNiTY
The weight of the air is torture,
Psychopathy, Don’t know who I am anymore,
iNSaNiTY
The illusion of ignorance,
Captivity
Try to stop if from corrupting...”

“I was never meant to be,
The paintings main centerpiece,
Hidden in a corner,
My outlines, are, fading,
The days have turned into night,
Darkness has consumed the light,
Assume life of insanity...”

“iNSaNiTY
The weight of the air is torture,
Psychopathy,
Don’t know who I am anymore,

(Lyrics by Zero. Miz-Kun , used without permission. Just borrowing it. :3)

And then it would repeat.
Now that I have explained to you that I am serial killer for some freaking reason, why don’t I explain who Rurik is? Rurik Maeki is a boy, and is also from Hope’s Peak Academy, like me. Rurik keeps pestering me about why I wear my eyepatch, because I never really gave an explanation as to why I wore it. He’s asked me why I wear it 614 times. And I always answer with, “I... Can’t tell you...” The whole reason as to why I wear it is

I am protecting everyone else, by hiding her from them....

Insanity does have a name, but she has not told a soul what it is before. Not even me, the girl she got fused with. That’s right.

We’re two2 different people...

It’s All Her Fault *Tilt*

Back at middle school, Insanity killed 37 students, without getting caught. I made a lot of friends during that time...

She killed five5 of my good friends.

Jul (Wagan) Ashica was always cheerful. She kept my spirits up. Jul’s name is spelled “Jul”, yet it is pronounced completely different. It was pretty strange to me, so I was interested as to why it was like that. She trusted me. Jul’s right eye has a star scar. She told me she got that from protecting the a guy she didn’t even know. Jul was fighting a gang of evil kids when she was in elementary school. Jul was so concerned about me. When I was about to warn her about Insanity’s next killing the night of the worst, most horrible, most awful, most disgusting, most bloody event at Opoku Middle School. I couldn’t find her in time, and when I entered the classroom where she was...

She decided to turn, right then.
She has ruined my life.

Estaca Hikokofin, “The Emo Freak of Opoku”, was indeed, emo. This time, I was the one comforting her. Estaca never showed her face. She never ran to make her hair move in the wing. She always stayed inside for recess, despite the teachers telling her to go out. Estaca didn’t care. I wanted to help her so much. The day before The Incident At Opokiu, I arranged a meeting with her. We both agreed to share our secrets after school and behind the school building that night. Fortunately, I was able to warn her about Insanity, and see her face. When I was able to see her emerald green eyes, I saw... A sparkle, like the one in my left eye, where Justice hides. And... I did... Take off my eyepatch, and showed her my scar, and Insanity’s eye. Even Estaca was afraid of her. Unlike Justice, the name I gave my eye, Insanity’s eye holds Crazy, Despair, Suffering, Pain, and the intent to kill. Estaca was able to see all these things because she was interested in occult. She was emo, after all. I remember what she told me while she was examining Insanity’s eye.

“...In your eyes, I can see that you don’t have much longer to live.”

But I still don’t understand what she meant. It’s been three3 years since I heard those words, and here I am, still alive and kicking. I just wish I could’ve asked her... What was I even thinking back then?

That should’ve been my first question! I acted as if I didn’t even hear her words...

“Don’t you remember? Your broken heart was hurting from guilt. You showed my eye without my permission... I thought that would’ve been obvious, Vivi... God, you really do embarrass me...”
“Huh? Wait... Insanity? Why are you speaking to me now?” I asked through my thoughts to her. “And also, I thought you hated my nickname?” Vivi is the nickname I let my close friends call me. I knew from the tone of Insanity’s voice that she was in a bad mood and not crazy, surprisingly. “Oh, please. I’m just here to help you clear your thoughts, Vivi. Your memory sucks, so you’re making me remember for you... And my god, am I in a bad mood for this...” It was weird hearing her not in her crazy tone. Funny, I’ve grown used to it... “Actually, you’ve said enough. Can you shut up now, please?” I asked, growing on the annoyed voice. I heard Insanity laugh. “Hahahahaha! Y-You actually thought I was in a bad mood? My god, are you stupid! Kyahahah!” There was the crazy tone again. Her evil laughter, her voice... It... Hurts... “Oh my god, m-my voice actually scares you... Ooooh I bet you hate m-my stutter, don’t y-you!” She insulted me. Of course. This is Insanity, after all. I realized something quickly, using the logic of Insanity. “You’re just trying to distract me from what I was in the middle of thinking, weren’t you? I was serious. Shut up!” Insanity stayed silent after hearing this.

“D-Do you ever learn? I-I could kill you if I wanted to... When I turn, I can make you commit suicide. But o-of course I can’t do that... Since, we are an experiments, and I am just too beautiful to die...” She said, confusing me even more.

*Static and Glitches*


Stuck In The Past

“Heeahahahhah! I-I will-”
I cut her off before I was suspicious. Rurik looked at me a little funny. “Vyviaka? Are you okay?” he asked again. Paranoid, I answered, “I-I’m fine...” And then I walked to class, forgetting that.

Back to what I was saying...

Estaca saw something in my eye that I couldn’t see. I have no idea what she saw in my eye. Of course, I told her why I wore the eyepatch. “I wear it... To protect others from her.” I knew she was going to ask if I was really Insanity, a famous serial killer. “I hate to admit it, but... Y-Yes, I am... H-H-Her... iNSaNiTY...” Estaca stepped away from me. “No wonder you’ve been hiding your eye...” I trembled. “Sh-Sh-She... Is going to turn sometime tomorrow... At some time... She’s planning a kill...” The ambiance fell silent. Neither of us knew what to say. I put my eyepatch back on, and left Estaca.

Uichi Inigami, a normal, run-of-the-mill middle school student was also one of my friends. I asked him about the other places of the world that I don’t know about. He knew so much about nature an animals. Whenever I had any questions, I would usually ask Uichi.
Wako Yasujika was a “derpy” kid. His eyes were sideways. This caused him to get bullied so much. I’m surprised he stayed alive that long in suffering. He told me that all he did was stay positive. Wako never let the actions of others destroy him. He was always so determined to keep going forward. He had his own dreams... But then Insanity ruined that for him...
It’s all... My, godforsaken fault... No, I should be blaming those evil, horrible, unforgivable, insane people for this...
But in truth, it’s actually my mother’s fault...

If only I knew who she was...

And finally, Naizoiay Kanaki was my last good friend... He’s part of the famous Kanaki Corporation. He thought he was always important than others, which made him a little “bossy”, as others described it. To me, it was more like reliable. Naizoiay wanted to be a leader someday. I remember a conversation I had with him. “Consider it a great privilege to be my so-called ‘friend’.” Naizoiay said at a lunch table with me two2 seats beside him. I was curious as to what his family was like, so I asked. “What kind of people are in your family?” I thought it was a kind of personal question after saying it aloud, but I wanted to know. Naizoiay wasn’t looking at me when he was speaking. “Hmph. Fine. I do indeed have an older sister. But she is more bossy than what they say about me. I can tell you one thing: She’s crazy.” I was surprised to hear the word “crazy” again, so I flinched. “I-Is that a secret?” I had asked him. He wasn’t hesitating to answer me. I thought that was strange. “She thinks of it as one. But hiding your true nature is just not right. Being yourself is what you should do,” Naizoiay answered, and looked at me in the blue eye, as if he knew I was hiding something. Which I was. “Anyway, now is my turn to ask a question. Why-” I cut him off. “You can ask anything that has nothing to do with my eyepatch.” There was a short pause, and then Naizoiay spoke again. “Well... I was just about to ask that. Are you interested in serial killers?” I heard the suspicion in his voice. He must’ve known why I was wearing the eyepatch. “W-Well... Who would?” I tried concluding the subject, but he just went on. “Recently, I’ve been reading about these serial killers, Genocide Jack, Sparkling Justice, iNSaNiTY, and Swear Stabber. Do you happen to know anything about them?”

This was the first time I lied about something that didn’t have to do with “why I wear an eyepatch”.

“No.”

I felt confidence at the moment. I felt the cheers. I felt the determination. I felt normal. I felt...

Human...

He noticed all those feelings in my eyes. “Meet me behind the school building after dismissal.” And then he got up and left.

But then... A sudden vision clouded my eyesight.


Saturday, January 28, 2017

the Paja side effect

Soooo....the forced changed in thyroid medication (do to once again a levoxyl shortage) has caused the prednisone to abruptly stop working. 

yippy skippy.

Looking again at the other two drugs the doc want to use.

1st one has common side effect of CANCER.

2nd one uses words like DEVESTATING, and IRREVERSABLE in the same sentence as it details vison side effects that will lead to blindness.

*crickets*

just shoot me now.