... is this ... growth?

I used to envy people who seemed so happy. I hated them even. It was never fair that folx could feel that and I couldn't. All I could feel was numb. I didn't understand that there were other ways to feel. Yeah, I could fake it, but it never really stuck. I knew something was wrong, but no matter what I did with medications or therapy or other temporary solutions, nothing worked.

It was years that I felt like this. Honestly, it was for as long as I can remember. I constantly felt like I was spiraling into an abyss and I couldn't claw my way out. The light at the end of the tunnel was so dim I could barely see it and often struggled to hold on.

I tried to find joy in things: painting, photography, doodling, writing, drinking, spending time with friends, falling in love and getting married... but everything was just a band-aid. My fight or flight response was constantly activated and I could never relax or stop feeling anxious so the spiraling continued. My manic episodes were terrible and I couldn't get a grip on how to fix it. I was stuck.

And then one day... things felt lighter. I wasn't constantly thinking about ending my life... I wasn't even passively thinking about it. My intrusive thoughts became less and less frequent and I finally felt like I could breathe.

Of course this didn't happen overnight, but it honestly felt like it did. I remember I was in the shower a month or so ago and was thinking to myself "wow, this is the first time in forever where I don't want to die..." and then I cried. And it was so freeing.

So how did I get here? 

Well, number 1: Therapy and medication, and lots of it. I found a therapist who works with me and helps me understand the why behind how I am feeling and how to move through it. She has helped me to find ways to process some of my C-PTSD and to actually talk about how I am feeling instead of just pushing the feelings aside.

Number 2: two very wise friends told me to be kinder to myself and I started doing that. It sounds super silly to remove (most) of the negative self talk, but Holy Toledo, it has worked wonders for me. I know it's not a cure-all, but truly... wow. I have noticed a difference.

Number 3: I have changed how I look at my chronic illnesses and disabilities. I have had to reframe my thinking from "when I was better" or "before" to thinking about what life looks like now. Am I still sad about how different my life is now? Absolutely. Am I still grieving the loss of my life before I was sick? 1000%. The difference now is I am trying not to focus so much on it so I can start to enjoy where I am at now. It's hard to fully express this right now (yay brain fog!) but I definitely want to talk more about this when I can think a bit better.

I spent so much of my life thinking "oh, I won't make it to *insert age here*" and never really did future planning. Now I'm thinking about life 5, 10, 15, even 20 years into the future and it's beautiful. I'm finally loving my life and who I am (hell yeah for being in my thirties, getting divorced, and dropping the weight of anyone's expectations other than my own!). It's been a very l o n g and exhausting road, but here we are. 

So, if there's anything you can take away from my ramblings today it's this: life is fucking hard, but things can get better. If you're struggling to see the light at the end of the tunnel, it's there. You have people in your corner who want to see you succeed and keep going (hell, I can be one of those people for you). (Note: Yes, I know I am privileged to be able to say things have gotten better and to have access to the resources to get me where I am. I have had to work hard to get here and I am proud of where I am and want to find ways to give back to others who aren't as lucky, but that's a story for another time...)

Yesterday was National Suicide Prevention Day and TWLOHA's theme this year is Please Stay Alive. I am so happy I have persevered and have kept going, one day at a time. I am still here and I am happy you are too.

Visit https://pleasestayalive.com/ for resources if you are struggling with thoughts of suicide, self-harm, or just having a rough time.

I'm Back, Baby!

Wow... it's been a while since I've written here. I honestly forgot about this and how much I used to love writing. I realized I lost this part of me when I had gotten married, along with so many other parts of myself.

In case you haven't been following my social media, quite a few changes have come up for me in the last year. Here's a quick recap:

In July 2023, my now ex-spouse left me suddenly, citing he wanted to become monogamous with his new girlfriend. And that was that. There was nothing I could say or do to "fix" things. (Looking back, how can you fix something if you're the only one working towards it? Oh Allee, we were so naïve.) My biggest fear that I would be left to manage my life as a disabled woman alone came true... I had talked about this over and over again with my therapist (there were so many signs things were not going well, I know, I know...) trying to figure out how I could ever go on if my ex left me. I was so scared of having to figure out life on my own in my wheelchair that I had never stopped to think it could actually be the best thing to happen to me. And July 2023 Allee refused to think that. She was depressed, withering away (seriously, I lost so much weight I looked sicker than ever), and couldn't leave the house. 

I moved out a week and two days after he said it was over into a cute little cottage with a backyard, bringing Boba, Persie, and Nebula with me. 

I worked hard to pull myself out of the depths of depression. I worked from home for almost two months. I cried every day and could barely leave my bed. 

November hit and I had moved passed sadness and into anger. My ex had pulled a Michael Scott ("I declare divorce!") and did nothing other than make things difficult for me. I tried to be civil and work together to file for divorce, but alas, the deadlines I set were not met and I filed for divorce myself. He hired a lawyer, I didn't, and still got what I wanted (including the money he owed me). As of February 12, 2024, I am legally divorced. 

Now between the shittiness, there were many glimmers of happiness and hope.

The Funeral; 2023 

I dressed up as Poison Ivy for Halloween for the first time, which was something I had wanted to do for years and never did. I drew a lot of chaos art (check it out on Instagram: @CryptidWonderland) and spent time with my chosen family. I created a badass self-portrait utilizing my complex's hot tub (see below. ID will be at the bottom of the page). I met my wonderful partner, Whitney, and we even moved in together in July. 

I also did a lot with work. I nominated myself for two awards within professional organizations I'm part of and won them both! (NWACUHO Operations and Facilities Award and ACUHO-I's Mid-Level Professional Award) I got a promotion and moved into a manager role where I supervise a professional staff member and have been working on opening a new building (staff just moved in last week!). 

I share all of this because I want to normalize shit happening. Sometimes the things you think you want are taken away and you're forced to figure out a new normal. Divorce happens. It sucks a lot when you don't feel like you get a say in it, but hey, we move on, right? 

I cannot recommend speaking with a therapist to get through the worst days of your life (and to talk about the good, too!). I don't think I would've survived the last year without therapy, my chosen family, and my animals. 

Life looks different now than it did a year ago and I'm happier than ever. I listened to a lot of music that helped me process my emotions (though I do wish Taylor's Tortured Poet's Department came out last July... so many of those songs hit so hard with what I was processing...).

I am slowly trying to get back into doing things I love and rediscovering parts of myself I pushed away over the last 5 years, hence the jump back into blogging. 

I'm not sure how often I'll blog, but I want to use this as a space to normalize things and talk through the good, the bad, and the ugly of disabled life.

If you've read this far, thanks for being here. Here's some music that got me through the last year:
Happier Than Ever

The Funeral

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

Lover

Fade Into You

Anything Chappell Roan

I'm Back

{image description: a white woman with a heavily tattooed arm emerges from the water with clouds of steam around her. She is wearing her black wedding dress and is holding a bouquet of her wedding flowers in her left hand. She glances over her left shoulder down into the water.}

29.

The hardest part about living longer than you've anticipated is that you didn't fucking plan for this. You didn't save money or plan for a career, you just did what you needed to do to get to the next day and that was that. I've been so used to living this way that it's fucked me over in so many ways because 

I'm still. fucking. here.

Some folx may say "But Allee, it's a GOOD thing you're still alive. You've made it this far. You should be so proud of yourself..." which is true, but that doesn't mean I can wrap my head around this shit. 

So here I am, staring 29 in the face... Endlessly trying to convince myself that folx do genuinely care about me ...

... and that I am not a burden ...

... and that checking out early is not an option. 

29. Fuck. I never thought I'd make it here. I never thought I'd make it to 18, if we are being honest. This must be a fluke, right? 

Somehow I've been able to make a deal with the devil in exchange for immortality (at least until I am proven mortal) so I guess it's about time I get my shit together.

Maybe 29 will be better than 28. 

At least, that's what I'm holding out hope for...

Holding My Breath

I feel like I’ve been holding my breath
Watching, waiting for something. Anything.
Like I am under water, needing to come up for air
But I can never make it to the surface.
So I wait for the moment when I can breathe again.
I turn the water
Hot, hotter, hotter
Until I can’t take it anymore
So I can finally feel something
And take another breath.

27 Candles

I never really thought I’d ever make it to 27. There’s no real reason why; it just never felt tangible. I thought for sure something was going to happen to me or that I was going to take my life, but here I am. I turn 27 in a few days and I am in utter disbelief. 

Birthdays have never been amazing for me (and neither have holidays), despite the effort of my parents trying their hardest. I guess I’ve just never been truly happy. And that sounds sad to say because I should have been a happy kid. But I wasn’t. 

Regardless, here I am... on the brink of 27. I have some of the greatest people in my life. I have people who challenge me daily and support me through my tough times. I have students that I loved dearly, even when they drive me nuts. And I have my wife. The person who I never thought I’d find, who makes me so happy, even through the depression. 

These last 26 years have been rough, and I’m sure year 27 will be too, but with my friends and my wife by my side, I’m sure I’ll make it through. 

Drowning

It feels like every time I sit down to blog something, I'm feeling fairly shitty and my mental health has spiraled downward. So here I am again... blogging as I sit in bed at 8pm on a Thursday night.

My life is pretty routine these days: I wake up, go to work, come home, and then sleep. There's not much else in between because I'm too damn exhausted to do anything else. And that stems from my awful mental health that I can never seem to get right.

Every time I feel like I am on track, climbing to the top of the hill, something hits me and a plummet downward until I can't see anything above me. It feels like I'm drowning and I can't pull myself out of the water. And then I'm stuck there flailing until I find something to hold on to.

The worst part is I can feel myself slipping away into the depths of the ocean but I can never save myself before it happens. I feel myself losing interest in everything and everyone around me, pulling away until I no longer want to leave, yet I always find myself here.

I can't feel anything, though. I am numb to everything around me. I turn on the shower as hot as it can go to feel something, anything. I scream into the water as it surrounds me but all that I see is the light fading away and I am moving further into the darkness.

I am here, drowning in the ocean of my depression. I know I'll get better, as long as I continue to see the light.

Hey, Asshole

I've sat down to blog numerous times and have struggled to find the words.

This year has been a lot. It's been exciting and horrible, brought both joy and tremendous sadness.

The year started off in Olympia, WA and then quickly moved into living in College Park, MD. Honestly, it's hard to believe I've been back on the East Coast longer than I lived in the Pacific Northwest... but regardless, I am here and am happy.

 •          •          •          •          •          •          •          •          •          •          •          •          •          •          •

I cannot believe how fast 2018 has gone. I sit here and often struggle to describe how I am feeling.

These last few months have been rough, to say the least. While great happiness was brought upon me through my marriage to my amazing wife, a bunch of not-so-great things have happened as well.

On September 29, while sitting at IHOP, I noticed I had a missed call from my mother. A text came through: "CALL ME IMMEDIATELY." I assumed she was angry with me about something I did (or did not) do. I called her back and heard her hysterical cries. I could barely make out what was said. "Jet... he's dead." We had lost our family dog. He was struck down (and dragged 25+ ft) by a car who did not even stop to see what had happened. The poor waitress at IHOP saw me fall apart at the table and Kirsten saw that I was inconsolable. I was in Maryland and wasn't there to say goodbye.

On October 9, I received a text from my mother stating I needed to call her immediately. I was walking out of my building, heading across campus for a meeting. I called her and did not get an answer. I began to freak out. What had happened? Was my dad okay? Please for the love of G-d don't be my dad.

After what felt like centuries, my brother called me. My cousin Ronnie was found dead earlier that day. I completely collapsed outside of my building. I fell into a heap. I couldn't believe it. My cousin, who had lived with my family on and off for the last few years and helped me move across the country, was gone.

Everything after that moved very quickly, yet in slow motion at the same time. I headed home on a Wednesday night to say goodbye and then headed back to Maryland on Thursday to pack for a weekend in Pennsylvania with my family. Unfortunately, I was met with car troubles and was unable to get home a second time.

The month of October brought some happiness, though. I married an amazing woman on October 31st (and we have now officially been married for 2 weeks!).

Through the ups and downs, I've been lucky to have Kirsten by my side.

The nights crying in the shower, collapsing into sadness on the couch or the bed, the mornings I have been unable to do anything: she's been there and for that I am quite lucky.

Though I haven't been outwardly showing it, I am struggling. This funk isn't going anywhere anytime soon... at least not that I can see. I've sucked at communicating with friends, responding to calls/texts, etc. so don't take it personally. Eventually, I'll pull myself out of this, but for now, please be gentle with me.

<3

This song loosely reflects how I've been feeling (and is the namesake of my post)