Trash Only. No Recycling.

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There is a realization for myself that I have been avoiding, yet expressed for years all at the same time.

Music is vital for my sanity. It is well known that I never, ever, go anywhere without my high quality headphones. Music fuels my emotions, and brings perspective to my surroundings. It translates my pain, my hopes, and my dreams into something that does require a shared language.

And precisely because of that… communicating my language is so hard. You feel isolated. I try sharing my music.

This means something to me.

                “But, I cannot understand what they are saying.”

                “I can’t really sing along to this.”

When I share music – I am sharing myself. Offering a deep emotion that I feel I cannot express in words otherwise. It has been a running joke for quite some time on,”Lara Language”. Since, communication is such a trial for me. My vocabulary is vast, and I have to constantly adjust in the moment, so others can understand the terminology and context I use. I learned to communicate in a short hand due to this. Either via gesticulations, music, or images in hopes that by removing the challenge of my words – one can understand my meanings universally.

Yet, this never seems to happen.

One of the worst feelings in the world is the that of oppressed silence. An empty room where the vibrations bounce off the walls to echo for an audience of none.

Listen to me.

I have something to say.

Will you please listen?

                My composition professor today, after class, sympathized saying it must be difficult being the smartest person in the class.  It is, and it is not limited to the classroom. With which an astounding intellect that seems to be inversely proportional to the rich social interactions that are possible. Add in a (very misunderstood and difficult) personality disorder… It is difficult. You spend a lot of your time feeling lonely, and yet there is a dichotomy of preferring the solitude over the lackluster interactions you would have to face otherwise.

I am a very articulate and intelligent person. So, why is it that I am so often misunderstood?

Or is it no one wants to understand.

Check, please.

 

What to do? What to say?

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Well, I have a lot of WiFi at my disposal now and a friend’s laptop to borrow since I am lucky enough to be house sitting for them for a while. Yes, the previously mentioned friends from the last rant. But like I said then, they are good friends, just… with moments, y’know?

Anyways. I saw my psychiatrist yesterday and it seems we are now going to try either Lithium or Depakote. He tried making it sound like it was no big deal just the next step but everyone always forgets I do my research! I already know plenty about Lithium and Depakote. Depakote I had heard of from another blog and my sister (the nurse) has mentioned it in the past.

I really don’t want to go on either of these. He wanted me to get some blood work done, which I have only ever done once before and that was when I went to the emergency room because of the baby. Terrifies me. Just terrifies me.

To make a long story short. I am very wary of this idea. I will be giving it a hell of a lot of thought before I decide any which way.

But my sister called me and gave me a pep talk. Which is always really nice. She is really, really good at them!

I am getting closer and closer to making the decision to leave Disney. I think if I do actually leave Disney it will be to go to school full time. It is an idea I like a lot. Maybe once I become a little more stable I can get a part time job close for spending cash.

Lately, I have become obsessed with Avatar: Last Airbender and have fallen in love with the show. I only finished the series last night and have already started its sequel The Legend of Korra.

I am actually typing this post up on the laptop while I have my phone propped up on the screen playing the cartoon. >.<

Does that make me some supreme order of dork?

Along with using this laptop to write up this post I was also starting to edit some photos I have been meaning to edit for a while.

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Excuse the super editing, but hey, it is how you learn, right?

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Disney’s Animal Kingdom Lodge

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I keep debating whether not I should get my own laptop fixed. Maybe I can work with my mom to help me out with that. I am sure that some way we can work something out. They always come through for me when I need them. As much as she drives me crazy.

I dunno. I know about myself that I go through these buoy like phases where sometimes I am all wound up and bobbing along the positive waves but then sometimes my line gets tangled up and I am pulled down to darker depths with the sharks. Hopefully one day I can simply cut the line free and bob where the current takes me.

I Sit Here Waiting

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Listening to Lady Gaga on the office radio.

Nice.

I don’t even know the name of this song.

Love, love, love I want your love.

Oh. She just said it.

Bad Romance.

I’m surrounded by senior citizens in a doctors office listening to Lady Gaga belt out Bad Romance.

Does this strike anyone else as odd?

No?

Okay! How about this.

I cannot be trusted with scissors.

I had this seriously long errant thread on my dress that just had to go.

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Navy blue version of this dress

It drove me nuts the entire time I was Skyping with Mike. (Who made it safe for anyone wondering. After 48 hours of flying. More later.)

So after arriving at the doctor’s office for my first appointment with my new therapist, I asked at the check in desk if I could possibly use a pair of scissors really quick to cut it.
No worries, people. They had scissors.

However, she had to cut it.

Okay, then?

You do that.

Thankfully there was a lining to my dress and I could hike the lace overlay skirt over the counter for her to cut it. She didn’t even lean over or anything. Took her about seven tries to actually cut the string.

Yes, I am going to take those dull ass scissors and go ballistic up in this joint. The Lady Gaga was just too much and sent me right over that perilous edge.

Gah. There is a Disney resort mug I want to take a picture of but someone just sat in front of it.

Sass. I can never escape the place, can I?

I just listened to a mom explain to her child, that pollen is the stuff that makes people sneeze. As if it was just dust or something. On the same ranking as something that is made up dead hair and skin follicles

Her allergies must suck.

Onto more positive things, I guess.

Mike (gah, is it hard to not say Chairforce. It is even in my autocorrect dictionary!) landed safely like I said earlier. Took over forty eight hours of flying and that does not include layovers. I feel so bad for him.

Qatar is seven hours ahead and he Skyped me about twenty minutes before I was supposed to leave for my doctor’s appointment. But we did get to talk for about fifteen minutes before I left.

He has to walk a mile to do laundry.

Half a mile to use the bathroom.

And half a mile in a different direction to shower.

I feel bad for him but I know he is excited to get away and just kind of relax without school or Disney.

I’m home now. My head is screaming. I spent fifteen minutes just looking for Excederin.

Joan is the name of the therapist. She is tiny and up there in age. And I was correct. There was a reason they are referred by first name only. They are Licensed Social Workers, not a psychologist with a doctorate. Which in my ignorance didn’t realize were the therapists most people interact with. Did seem off. I asked about a psychologist, “we have those! Er. Not really.” Maybe she will be able to help?

Oh, my head hurts. Jeeze.

Anyways. I’m home. I have homework. I won’t be seeing Joan for another three weeks. The first available appointment. Like it is intense. Some of these social workers are booked past the first of the year!

Well, I have to go make dinner now. I hope everyone is well and doing great.

Posted from WordPress for Android. As much as I try to proof read, typos and grammatical errors will more than likely occur and I hope you can graciously forgive them and me.

Tiny Little Things

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So things are still on a downhill slope. Where do I start?

Let me disappear for a second and find out where I left you off.

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Okay. So to start off.

Work

Work is not happening. I have called in every shift for the last two weeks. I get severe panic attacks at just the thought and I cannot drive let alone for an hour to even try working the shift. Thus, I just give up – give in – and call in. There is no idea as to what is going to happen. I had an emergency visit with my psychiatrist to see if he could excuse me or put me on medical leave. He wrote a general excusal note but did not put me on medical leave. I only mentioned it the once and I guess he forgot to readdress it at the end of the appointment. The only thing that changed was I am now on Xanax twice a day and I was suggested to quit Disney and get a job that didn’t involve coworkers or patrons. Where the hell is that?

I have come to the conclusion that I feel like all of my medication is failing me. My emotions are no where near stable, my anxiety is out of control and my obsessive tendencies are on the rise.

So, I spoke with one of my managers Thursday night as I had a shift Friday just to see what should I do, what could I expect. And all he could suggest was to call Health Services and see if I cannot get an appointment with them and possibly have restrictions or medical leave induced.

Well.

I called.

And was denied assistance and was immediately transferred to a therapist who then immediately jumped into trying to force me into self committing myself into a ten day program.

I never mentioned suicide. Or any of my diagnoses besides my anxiety.

I was informed by another separate party that I could only be committed if I was suicidal. And I would never deny having suicidal thoughts. I do have those. But I have never attempted to act upon them or self harm in general.

So I just said I would speak to my parents about it and tried one more time for an appointment with Health Services and was once again turned down. After that, I simply ended the call.

While speaking with my Cigna Healthy Pursuits Coach, Becky, yesterday she helped me conclude that I don’t feel like I am in control. And when I don’t feel like I am in control is when I give up any control or stability I may have had left. She also suggested I go get a physical and see if maybe there isn’t anything physically wrong with me. That is an idea but the idea terrifies me. Beyond simple past experience, the money as always makes me jittery.

I have an appointment with a new psychologist tomorrow to see if that helps. “Joan”. I find it slightly funny. The psychiatrists are reffered to as Dr Last Name. The therapists are referred to by their first name. Which is very awkward for me. It seems very informal and slightly disrespectful.

Makes me wonder if they actually have their doctorates. The office does refer to them as therapists only as opposed to psychologists.

Outside of all this?

I was pretty fine.

I don’t know if any of you wonder why I haven’t named or even nick named my coworker turned friend since he has made his entrance to my posts. Well for one! His real name is so damn common I nickname all of them. Michaels. So many in the world. And another his nickname is one that would offend unless you know my military backstory with my family and our friendship. I call him Chairforce cause he is in the Air Force reserves. My family is Navy based. So… Chairforce.

I’ll call him Mike to limit the possible insult-ability.

So, Mike is a good friend. any chance he can he tries to get me out of my house. Distract me from everything going on and still push my comfort zones just that little bit to get me working on my anxiety a little at a time.
My friend Sassy doesn’t like that but we face our anxiety in two very different ways. And that is fine. We are two different people with different needs. After I explained it to her in a bit more detail she understood a little better.

He tended to call me every day during his drive to school from work and then from school to home. So he was hearing about everything that was going on first hand. Even as he is making his arrangements for his deployment to the desert he worries about his friends. My friend RL (red lipstick), has become slightly MIA amongst her own problems and he worries about her. He worried about me and even Sassy if she was having a bad day.

His solution for my anxiety was the last day before he left was to surprise me with a day… Somewhere.

Wouldn’t tell me where.

Or even when.

Just “you’re going to love it”.

Eventually he would give in and give me hints. Birds (he loves birds), I could get wet (so no dresses and wear a bathing suit), and it was in Orlando.

And there would be horses.

Horses? Where the hell are horses in Orlando besides Disney’s Triple D Ranch? And I know he wasn’t taking me to Disney.

Turns out it was SeaWorld. He bought me a day pass after we had some Dim Sum for breakfast.

He managed to talk me into going on all three rides (whoa) and feeding sting rays and dolphins. The dolphin feeding was easy and I really enjoyed it.

The sting rays?

Terrified me.

They felt weird.

They smelled.

And were… Kinda mean.

“Give me the shrimp! *splash*”

We did the entire park excusing the water shows in about four hours. Just spent the day relaxing and walking around.

We ended the night with dinner at the Turf Club. For once my drink somehow managed to be stronger than his. He almost always gets a rum and coke made with Bacardi 151. (Can I get an ick?) And I know now to order a mojito with Sprite. Somehow mine was stronger.

I now pinch myself when I didn’t buy his drink. It was going to be his last for at the very least a month and I should have after all he did.

One day I will do things when I should and not regret not doing them later.

Over all it was a good day.

Sassy will be here in 27 days.

Mike will be back in (hopefully) 35 days

My birthday is in 59 days.

I am trying to keep my head up and just take each day as it comes.

Posted from WordPress for Android. As much as I try to proof read, typos and grammatical errors will more than likely occur and I hope you can graciously forgive them and me.

I Wish Upon A Star

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It seems to be almost a promise that if I write that things are looking up, of course my next post will be about how things didn’t look up. Though this could be a simple continuation of the last post and my worries about how the medication may not be working when I am on the job. Like I said, it seems to work whenever I am at home but when I am at work it is a different story. 

I reported for my shift this Friday ready and excited to get through the weekend especially since I had some new dresses for trying dim sum for the first time the next day. 

It was okay, at first as usual. I did my pacing thing in the back office waiting for my shift. Which no one even questions any more. They just accepted that I can’t sit still very well. However there was one manager that I have always some issues with did not like it, His solution was to have me start early. I didn’t know how to say “no” to that so I went ahead and clocked in interrupting my ritual I guess you could say. Within two hours I noticed that I wasn’t able to finish my sentences. I couldn’t catch my breath, the room was spinning and I was developing chest pain. A few more check ins were attempted as I figured it would go away as these symptoms usually do with my panic attacks. The strange thing was that there wasn’t any feelings of panic beyond why was I experiencing these symptoms and why weren’t they going away? Over an hour I struggled through and eventually had to tap a manager on the shoulder and let her know what was going on as bare bones as I could – especially since we were on stage at that time. 

I asked after a possibility of an early release quickly and moved on to attempt working with another guest, during which my symptoms began to escalate. After finishing with the guest I moved to the managers office where I found the manager I spoke with earlier and quickly just said that I have a panic attack disorder and believed I was experiencing a panic attack. I explained the symptoms and that I wasn’t positive I would be able to make it for another five hours to the end of my shift. 

My Klonopin was in my purse so I grabbed that and filled my cup with water to sit down in the proffered office to hopefully work through the attack and see if I can talk myself into finishing my shift. 

One of my compulsions is writing as many of you know and tends to calm me down so I began to write out my symptoms and thoughts. One set was the realization that it wasn’t a matter of being able to finish the shift it was a compulsive thought line of “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.” I could but I can’t

I hadn’t told my manager about the chest pain until another manager came in that was already familiar with my situation and told her about the chest pain and the pain that was psychosomatic-ly moving along my left arm centering at my elbow.

Which prompted questions if I would like paramedics and that I would need someone to pick me up as I would not be able to drive home.

Of course I turned down the offer for the alpha (paramedics). What if this was once again all in my head? Paramedics show up and my blood pressure is normal all that stuff. Plus paramedics, just for a panic attack? It just seemed silly.

And once again, of course came along the questions if this role was right for me. Should I transfer. (Get out of their hair).

“I’m doing better. Really. I don’t know why this is happening. I feel confident in my job. I was fine during the morning shifts. Which you would think would be the opposite for the lack of sleep I was experiencing due to the shift change. There is no reason to be feeling like this. No reason.

Eventually I called my mom and told her what was going on so I can make an appointment with my psychiatrist to look at my meds and get him to write a note for what was going on. And as usual for me the moment I got on the phone I started to blubber. Following that call, I called my friend Linda that I was going to be staying with that night anyways to see if she would come and pick me up.

So we left my car there, picked up some food on the way to her place and I hopped into the tub for a bath when we got back. And just sat in the water for maybe two hours, refilling the tub when the water became cold.

My coworker has become a close friend and has taken to calling me almost every day whenever he is bored and tends to have freaky timing. The moment I got of the tub and plugged in my phone expecting to not get a phone call, **ring ring**.

I told him about what happened and how I was feeling and he already started making plans on how to cheer me up. We were already meeting up for dim sum the next morning but since I wasn’t going to be able to work he was working with more time.

We ended up going to the M&M super store at the Florida Mall because “I need chocolate. Stressed backwards is desserts.”

Which took me a long time to figure out. For someone with dyslexia, that was pretty sad.

It had begun to rain a little bit but the beauty of Florida is that it never lasts long usually. We went to Gatorland. I had never been before. Bad Floridian, I know. But the number of gators they had astounded me!

So many gators!

So many gators!

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This poor guy was missing a foot.

This poor guy was missing a foot.

Gatorland also had birds. Lots and lots of birds. 

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Small birds.

Small birds.

Slightly bigger birds.

Slightly bigger birds.

Frou frou birds.

Frou frou birds.

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Native Florida birds.

Native Florida birds.

Then the creepy bird.

Then the creepy bird.

They sold little bags of hot dogs you could use to feed the gators and of course the birds were interested as well. I mean, who wouldn’t be? Free food! Except there are some birds that are determined to get your hot dogs. That is when the stalking began. This creepy freaking bird started to literally stalk us. 

Stalker.

Stalker.

And because my friend was the one holding the treats… he seemed to get the brunt of it.

Even with the emus

Even with the emus

IMG_2871His new found loves made for great photo opportunities however. 

I found out the weird vulture stork looking thing was actually called a Woodland Stork and they are the most aggressive of the varieties that were found at Gatorland.

Aggressive? These birds? No. They just want a hug. From a hot dog…

We ended the day with dinner at The Wave found at Disney’s Contemporary Resort. I of course have never eaten there before same with many of the restaurants my friend takes me to. He has taken me to the Sci-fi diner, dim sum, City Walk and T-Rex at Downtown Disney. 

The forty five minutes waiting for a table was spent talking about DAAR and my relationships with my coworkers, how I started at Art and should I stay. If I shouldn’t stay, where should I go?

I apparently had a bad start. Immediately singled out by (his words) jealous people that got the ball rolling for how people would interact with me the rest of my DAAR career. Just like Speedway it seems. 

While we were sitting down, an adorable little girl was playing “capture the daddy with a big squirt gun” and it was very cute. She would come into the area we were sitting in and chase after him. Eventually the father surrendered and corralled her off saying “They are trying to have romantic time. Let’s leave them alone.” 

Immediately. 

“Uhh.”

Me: Not exactly but sure let’s go with that!

We tend to get that reaction a lot and it doesn’t even phase me anymore. 

Soon after our little buzzer thing went off and we found our table. 

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Wonderful fluffy multi-grain bread served with soft butter and salt.

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He ordered the lamb with a substitution of Jade Rice and Caramelized Mushrooms.

He ordered the lamb with a substitution of Jade Rice and Caramelized Mushrooms.

I ordered the Flat Iron Steak with fingerling potatoes and a substitution of onion mashed potatoes.

I ordered the Flat Iron Steak with fingerling potatoes and a substitution of onion mashed potatoes.

As always I let him order my drink since he is the expert and has yet to lead me to a bad drink. I learned I prefer Mojitos made with Sprite as opposed to just soda water. But look at this garnish!

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And here is the dress I wore.

And here is the dress I wore.

By the end of the night, I was feeling a bit better. Still stressed. Worried. But definitely feeling better. 

My Psychologist Gave Me A Homework Assignment

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And I don’t think I can do this one.

“Lara, before I see you next week, I want you to involve yourself in some kind of group setting. Photography class, yoga, or Tai Chi. I don’t really care as long as it is something that gets you out of your house and with people.”

Well. All these things cost money. And frankly I am kinda terrified. I don’t do well in groups or social setting. I am not a social person.
What am I supposed to do?

On the money front, I am down to one bra that is two years old and cannot afford to get a new one. You can’t find 32C (or what I should be wearing a 30D) anywhere unless it is Victoria Secret and we all know how expensive they are.

So how am I to afford yoga classes? How can I justify paying for a membership any where for anything if I cannot even find room in my budget for something that is a necessity like a bra? I am paying to see all these doctors, all these medications plus the extreme price tag of gas and tolls to travel to these doctors.

I am at a crossroads and unsure of where to step next.

Work has been pretty iffy. Some days I am great, then other days where I crash and burn into raspberry jam on the freeway.

I am back to not sleeping again. The medications don’t even make me drowsy.

Just, I could really use some help and advice right now.

Same Old Song And Dance

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My laptop has once again gone on the fritz. And of course it does right after I get my brand new DSLR Canon Rebel T3i, or the 600D.

I have so many photos I have taken I want to share, but obviously can’t. There are photos of my dresses, our latest project at the house and Disney fireworks that I am really proud of!

The time when my psychologist will be closing her practice is getting closer and closer. She has a surgery next Friday. When she does close it I will be very sad as I gave developed some what of a connection with her and feel she really has my interests in mind.

But my new psychiatrist has been working out really well! I have only seen him twice but that is because he doesn’t expect a change every single week. I am currently on Lamictal, the Zyprexa is halved every night. Added in Buspirone for anxiety twice daily.

I am back at work, kinda. I go to work, suffer multiple panic attacks that have chest pain accompany them as well nowadays, and drive home, arriving around three in the morning.

On Saturday, I messed up. I told one of the newer managers everything during one of the more severe attacks. And before I even threw in the towel, I could see the change. Questions with a lilt of, “psychosis?”

Told you I messed up.

I work tomorrow and am debating leaving early to go to Animal Kingdom for some photos before work. I dunno.

Thanks to the frustration with my behavior behind the scenes and the mess that is my sewing room, a lot of things have come to a stand still. My emotions are still a crazy roller coaster and anxiety is still extremely high.

I went to Target and did a bad thing. Thursday is pay day and obviously I should be saving up for a new laptop. I spent close to a $100 getting new clothes. On one hand, I need new clothes. My lower half has exploded in weight gain from the Zyprexa and I am in desperate need of clothing. I haven’t made a pair of shorts or bottoms yet and the dresses I have made are getting almost too tight for wear. Even the ones I just made two weeks ago.

I got a pair of shorts, three t-shirts, and a purse that I have had my eye on for almost two months. It is big enough to hold my new camera, wrapped in a scarf, my notebook and planner with room to spare. A pair of athletic shorts also made it into my cart but I bought them without trying them on figuring if I didn’t like them I could simply return them.

Well, I don’t like them and they will be going back. So yay, $16.99 back onto my card.

Anyways. I took photos of the photos with this phone and I hope that can satisfy you for now!

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Old Singer sewing table legs

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Everything is shorter thanks to my butt getting bigger. We will just let that be my disclaimer.

This post was drafted from mobile device and is more than likely riddled with typos and grammatical errors. Please forgive and forget folks. If it is not too much of a bother, that is.