Sunny skies, not disposition.

Hot, sticky, and depressing: that’s been my week. I have been unwell, not physically, although I noticed a tan spot under one of my toenails and googled for info, fully expecting to get suggested treatments for what’s probably the start of a fungal infection. Instead, Google coughed up:

MELANOMA!

Melanoma? UNDER MY TOENAIL? I don’t wear open-toed shoes. MY TOES HAVE NEVER SEEN THE SUNLIGHT.

Fine, I’ll keep an eye on my gross feet. What made me cry, though, was my brain. The organ that controls me began to override my ability to think and behave rationally. I found myself in a conflict on Wednesday night and lost sleep over re-framing and re-interpreting the situation, trying to look at it from many different perspectives, second-guessing my emotions, and questioning my sanity.

“It’s not me, it’s them. Wait, maybe it’s me? No, it’s definitely them. Am I overreacting? Just go to sleep, there’s nothing you can do about it now. Ok, here’s what I could do… No. Go to sleep. My eyes have been shut for the past three hours; settle down, emotions. Wtf…”

I showed up to work on Thursday morning feeling like garbage.

A familiar piece of advice is, “Think before you speak.” For me, that could take hours or even days. In the 20 or so years since I was diagnosed with Bipolar disorder, I’ve learned that the best course of action is to retreat from the public until I can function somewhat normally again.

When I told my boss two hours before my shift was over that I had to hightail it, he thankfully didn’t question my need to leave. Sure enough, as soon as my mirrored sunglasses went on and I unlocked my bike, I started sobbing.

Continue reading “Sunny skies, not disposition.”

Lemme talk to your kids about drugs.

The majority of Gen Zers have left behind a digital trail of their former selves, as many social media platforms have been around for more than 10 years. My blog posts from 2000 would have been long gone had I not been meticulous about preserving my e-history.

I have first-hand accounts of my late teenage years, written as they happened; however, I did not straight-up publicize most of my more intimate moments and thoughts.

I was bullied during the last year of school but never published my experiences, knowing that my bully was hate-reading my blog. I also did not discuss the mess that ensued after my breakup with my first boyfriend, knowing that he was reading it. (It used to be easy to determine who my readers were by matching up their IP, which I had grabbed from old emails, with what the web tracker would log.) Instead, I had to disguise my anger and hurt as metaphorical posts.

But, this post is actually going to be about mind-altering substances! I did not start tripping as a teen, as many people did. I was already openly weird about drugs and felt that their involvement was unnecessary. It irked me how drugs absolved my friends of the outrageous things they’d say and do while under the influence.

HOW IS THIS NOT CHEATING?

Continue reading “Lemme talk to your kids about drugs.”