Things Are Heating Up

Hey! So I sort of suck at updating, but I'm putting an alarm on my iPad to remind me to do it more. Anyways, here's the skinny.

I've taken myself off of ALL medications. Which I thought was good, but I'm starting to realize wasn't really. Turns out I didn't overcome my depression; the drugs did. But the anxiety has been really bearable. I have been having some difficulties, but I have to keep reminding myself of the good things that have been going on. Oh! You want to hear the good? Segwaaaaaaaay!

So, I just had a surfing lesson, and guess what?!!? I'm actually pretty darn good at it! Yeah, the only problem is the paddling. My arms aren't sore, but they should be! I had a lovely Christmas, and got these awesome headphones and a new celly! Cha-ching!!! Austin has been healthy, and I have, too. Which is a real shocker. I spent most of the semester sick. Hey, maybe all I needed were the healing Hawaiian waters!!! 

But, there has been some bad. People coming in and out of my life is hard for me. I always get super attached. Well, that's been a bad idea. I also hate being away from my boyfriend. It causes issues. My roommates and I don't get along, and they decided to move out. I don't really know if that's a good or a bad thing, though. I'm all about learning adult lessons and trying not to run from the problem. But at least I'll have a clean house! I love clean houses! 

Well, I have a house to clean. And I need to start packing up my toys! I have to go! Be back soon!

Love,

Whitney and the ever faithful Austin

I'm BAAACK!!

 So, a family member started a blog, and I remembered mine!

I've really missed you. And you've missed so much!

First, I was baptized! I am a proud member of the Jesus Christ Church of Latter Day Saints! Yep! I'm a Mormon. And I'm back at school in Auburn. My boyfriend and I are doing great. Really great.

There's a lot you've missed, but here are the important things!

When I last left off, I was in such a bad place. In fact, Death almost claimed me. Almost. I was saved by an angel who turned out to be one of darkness. That happens. Humans are always the best of people. I know that and I love them anyways.

I also went through a really dark place. Angels or darkness can do that to you. Drag you down and almost claim you, but luckily, there was a force much stronger than that one. I had the Lord on my side, and he saved my life. But he acted so strongly through my mother. She and I get along so well now! I've learned how to be a better daughter. Now I'm learning how to be a better younger sister.

Austin and I are still inseparable. And the doctor I once had to CONVINCE to let me have him absolutely LOVES him. She's seen him in action many times.

My life is going well!


Except when it's not.



Whitney & Austin

But now I'm so much better! Don't get me wrong, the war is SO not over.

Living through it.

It's that simple. Everyday I live through this. Pain, hurt, fears. It's all their. The nights are the hardest. Being in Hawaii, my boyfriend is deep in a sleep by the time night rolls around here. Nothing can ever take away the pain of night. I don't know what makes it hurt so bad, besides of course feeling terribly alone. But not only bad things have been happening in my life. A ton of good, too!

One thing, is planning for Aaliyah's ninth birthday. It's in two weeks, and is looking to be a stellar party. I have also been heavily involved in her Girlscouts! My sister is a Brownie. I've also rediscovered my love for music. Surrounding my self with upbeat songs always makes a night like this difficult. I have been spending more time at the skatepark. Some of the guys there say they're "Surfing the concrete waves." I love that. I haven't met many of them, I'm shy. And I want to know who I am. I lost my identity after my first break up, but I'm getting it back. Re-identifying myself and my passions. I'm still wishy washy, though. I intend to start working on learning a song, and getting a job. But, that's for another day. I just wanted to update. Austin and I, we're doing well. I've even started going to places without him. Quite often, actually. But he's my baby, and I still have days where I need him. I love my SD. Nothing will ever change there.


Signing out,


Whitney and Austin

"Camisado" by Panic at the Disco

For this blog to really depict my mental state and battle, I have to blog how I'm feeling right when I'm feeling it, which is why there has been an influx of posts in the past week. As I said before, this has been a horrible week. So to the post.

If I were bipolar, this would be the depressive part of the cycle. This is the part when I'm so down that I hold the pill bottle in my hand as I shake and question. Do I do it? I'm so alone. I feel as if I've lost a brother, and I have. The song in the title depicts my feeling right now, in a sense. Please don't get me wrong, I still have my amazing boyfriend, but girls need more than boyfriends, they need friends. And in some odd twist of fate I've lost another one. I'm the Black Friend (like the black widow). My boyfriend is the only man who was been able to withstand my actions which normally drive others away. I won't list real names, but everyone will have a name. I'll tell you my story..

First was Lerry. I met him years ago on the beach. My attachment was strong as it always is when guys. I got clingy and needy and was willing to do whatever it took to keep him as my friend. Of course that pushed him away. He took a very small piece of me with him. But he came back years later, and the cycle repeated. Just two months ago he returned, but this time I didn't give him a piece. This time I knew I was sick. I knew I had to be careful.

Next was Iriano. Beautiful person, we clicked immediately. I honestly had no feelings for him, none at all. He didn't interest me in the slightest. But I also got very attached. That's to say the least. Of course I scared him away, why wouldn't I? Actually, it was making my illness much worse to be around him, so it was a necessary separation. I met him during my first real time away from my boyfriend. I met him after my suicide attempt, and I thought for so long that he saved my life. I felt indebted to him, like he was better than men. I guess it was that Superhero complex. He honestly just stepped into my life at a wrong time. Or perhaps it was a right time, because I'm still here today. Only God knows.

Last was Clario. I'm sure you remember him from an earlier blog post. He was like a brother to me. After the first incident where he didn't protect me, he made it his mission to protect me from any and everything from that point on. Including my terrible hallucinations. He was there for every tear and such, we've known each other for a while, but it wasn't until recently that we started to get to know one another. He was a bit on the manipulative side, and I fell for it like I always do, but he wasn't a bad person. And I could tell that he really gave a damn. I allowed myself to trust that he wasn't going to go anywhere, so I allowed himself to become a part of me. He was family to me... But I wasn't family to him. He cared for me in an inappropriate way, and as usual, I handled it wrong. I always have this fear that people are going to leave me, so I do whatever I think they want. Well I messed up, it was my fault I think sometimes. Other times I know it wasn't. Well Clario was taken from me. We aren't allowed to talk or anything, and this is the most recent and most painful wound. Luckily I still have my boyfriend. It's hard to find people close to your age who actually give a damn. He was my battle buddy, and now I feel like I'm alone. My boyfriend doesn't quite understand the troubles I'm facing. He tries, but it's hard.

So now I'm walking around feeling as if I've been ripped apart. I'm so down and depressed. All I want to do is hide in a dark place. Closure is important to me, and I wasn't given the chance to have it with Clario. My wounds are so plentiful and so deep I often don't want to survive them. Who would? Clario and my boyfriend were both guys who I thought of when I sang "Crawl (carry me through) by Superchick. I can't let my boyfriend bear the weight of my illness alone so I'm back to forcing it all inside, but letting out some of it here. Death is sitting next to me, waiting. But I have a family. I have a man who loves me. I have a support system adults wide. But why can't I find acceptance from people my own age? Why am I so vulnerable? And so alone? Why can't my family be enough? I don't know. I feel so terribly all the time because of this. This illness is ruining my life. I don't have much left, and I can see my life falling a part. I see a mother who smokes because she doesn't know how else to handle her daughter. I see a father who drinks in order to deal with it. A sister whose anger sears through my soul. She might be the main reason I won't commit suicide. Because if survive, I'll have to face her anger again. She doesn't understand. But unless you're in my shoes, who does?

Signing out,

Whitney, Austin, and Death

Times may have changed, but my illness has not.

Mania. It's something that I deal with often. My manic episodes come from seemingly no where, but they hit hard. I have a much harder time controlling my actions when I'm manic, and that's something that very few people who aren't professionals understand. To date, only my boyfriend. And because he understands so well he's titled as an "enabler." Annoying. (The thing is, that man is a disabler. Haha! But he isn't an enabler at all.) My manic episodes often have a trigger. Besides a very common one being stress, they can be triggered by exhaustion and medications. For me it often feels like people can trigger them. Generally males that act like they really care about me. It sucks, and I hate it, so I tend to not hang around guys that much. Except that when they worm themselves into my life, things tend to go wrong.

I have a boyfriend who I love with all my heart and soul, and when I'm in a "balanced mood" I would rather die than even think of touching another person sexually. Except when I'm manic I do things that go against the very foundation of my being. (Luckily I haven't been afforded most of the opportunities yet, but things like drinking and smoking. These are things my amazing boyfriend has protected me from, because he can often recognize my mania.) But I've screwed up, more than I would want to admit, and he knows these instances. He understands it's my illness ruining my life. But how can he heal if he cannot blame? I never asked for this. He didn't either. The main thing that runs through my head is "What would his mother think?" I can only imagine she'd hate me. I know most of the time I do. Suicide is a thought that crosses my mind at least once a day. I often feel as though Death is a constant companion.. Just waiting on the day that I get so exhausted from it all. When I'm in a manic episode I just go go go. I do things and never think about the consequences, but when I finally return to a normal mood I get so down because of the things that I've done. Things I normally wouldn't/shouldn't have done. How can I live with myself when I keep screwing up so badly? And now I'm away from the only person who ever truly grasped the concept that sometimes I am unable to think rationally.

Recently I started talking to a person more. This person was younger than me and his behavior caused me a lot of stress. I considered this person to be like a brother. And told them so, and I should have walked away when they said they were in love with me. But how could I? Someone (other than my seemingly biased boyfriend) actually gave a damn about someone as worthless as me. Someone who was semi-close to my age didn't care about my illness. And things got out of hand. This person didn't know how to recognize my episodes and things were said. Things I tried to fix whenever I realized. But the truth is, I was manipulated in a lot of ways. I should have given them the boot, but I couldn't. They made me think they needed my help. Told me that no one cared about them, and that they hated life.. Hinted at suicide often. And I know how that feels, so how could I abandon them. Well, their parents found out, and it looked like I was the villain. I don't exactly believe that I wasn't. In my mind I'm always the villain. All I heard was "You're older, you know better." Well how do you explain to someone that you TRIED? That they took advantage of your mania? I'm starting to realize that there is no help for me. Even in this house. I listen to lectures about things I know, but things that don't make any sense to me when I'm manic.

This week has been one of the worst. With the events going on with that person and our families, I ruin everything. My parents were forced to chose between their friend and their daughter. Seems like an easy choice, but what do you say when your daughter royally effed up? I deserved whatever punishment they bestowed on me, hell, I even welcomed it.

And all I have to blame is my mania. Even though somewhere deep inside I know I'm not exactly responsible, I blame myself. What does it sound like when someone blames their illness? Like their not taking responsibility for their actions. What type of person is that? I don't want to be that type of person, even though I know I did my best. I have these emotions raging inside of me. I'm starting to realize that there is no help. No medicine, no doctor, no dog can fix me. And the dog helps the most it feels, but everyday is a BATTLE with my family. Every little mistake Austin makes is scrutinized. He's a DOG not perfect. All I ever hear about is how the ADA hasn't certified him. I know the law, but who listens to me? This battle is a burden that I have to carry alone. It feels like eventually Death will win this battle, and he's rubbing his hands together saying "Patience is a virtue."


Whitney and Austin

Travelling & Airports

Yesterday I arrived on the beautiful island of Oahu. All was well... Until I stepped into the quarantine office. And then all Hell broke loose. But.. Let's rewind to the start of my day.

I didn't sleep well Saturday night; I was stressed about flying with Austin. So, when 0330 (a.m for those non-military) rolls around I'm rearing and ready to go. My grandmother expects me to return without Austin.. HA! (Sorry, it's just annoying to always hear people's opinions on your illness and what is necessary to treat it. They also think that 19 is too young to have a service dog... So is it too young to be sick? If so, they oughta take that one up with the man upstairs.) Anywho, let's skip ahead to the airport. We go through security... No problems, we load up on the plane, and Austin was scared at first. He was shaking so I fed him treats and then he seemed to be having a ball. I fell asleep, and he did, too. When I woke up he wasn't shaking just staring at me sleep.... Awkward. (The flight attendant was SO nice, she told me that Austin looked cold and to put him up on his mat on the seat next to me. He climbed into my arms, though.) We disembark that plane (only a two hour flight) and make our way through DFW. I of course had to take him to the relief area because our next flight was going to be eight-and-a-half hours. He looked thirsty so I bought him a water and left security. Before leaving I took a valium because I saw those new fangled scanners, and having a SD means that you have to have the new fangled pat down. Being touched by strangers really triggers me, and I knew I'd get sick, even with Austin there if I had to have one. After asking thirty odd people we find the scanty relief area (but I'm not complaining it was a relief area!) He sniffed around and I got worried that Austin wasn't going to use it; there was no grass only a fake fire hydrant and some wood chips. We'll he was determined to prove me wrong because he handled one and two. On the way back I was feeling.. A little more than high. But I was so calm that the entire airport could have blown up and I wouldn't have given a rats rear end. We made our way back through security and.. We didn't even have to do the pat down! They only checked Austin's vest. We ran into another SD (a golden-doodle, also self-trained) and I realized that Austin needs more work with dogs... Now I just need to hunt some down!!! But we went through and I was annoyed about having to get rid of my water, but I didn't complain too much. We soldiered on and I got some eatery. I was so out of it that it took me about one minute to find my wallet even though it was right in front of me. But I didn't care too much... Or at all. I sat down to eat, and spilled my food (which normally would've sent me into a rage) but I just wiped it off and laughed. A lot. And then chatted on the phone. I stayed calm enough, and that satisfied me greatly.

The plane ride was long and boring, but how is that new? Austin made friends with the neighbor guy and basically slept with his head on him the entire time. But when I got up to potty Austin was not happy! It was funny. But all went well until Quarantine time. Basically they told me he wasn't an SD and that made me so mad. The guy was rude and thought he knew EVERYTHING. My mom handled him and soon before the week is out I'll be going to the quarantine station with my letters and having that handled. Pisses me off it really did. Sorry the ending wasn't so good here, this has just been an awful week, but don't worry... That's the next blog post!!

Olive Garden and more

So, even before Austin arrived, Olive Garden was a hot spot for my boyfriend and I. We'd go at least once a week. It was fun! And so when Austin finally arrived I knew we had to go together for the first time. Steff (my bf) took us, and when we walked in they lady looked at us a little, oddly. Austin was vested, of course. But they seated us (not asking any questions) and put us off in a corner. I was a little bit MORE than perturbed. There was no one anywhere near us, and I knew that we had just been quarantined. So I asked for the manager, and when he came I told him about my feelings and he says "Yes, you've been separated because of the dog, which, by the way, can't be in here." I told him Austin was a service dog, and he said "Oh!" He apologized profusely and offered to move us, but I sort of liked our little nook in our own little world, so we opted to stay. Austin did fine, and we had a wonderful meal.

Earlier we went back, and the same manager was working. He knows us now, as we've been back many times since the incident. There was a lady behind us who pulled him to the side and began talking with him. She had her back to us but I could read his lips. He told her it was a service animal. I was a little offended, but I know that she handled it the proper way. I generally have the feeling of having to say something. I mean I get pissed at the drop of a pin, but I was a little disoriented because of a triggering fire alarm. Generally I dart whenever loud noises suddenly blare, but this time, I finally was able to stay planted long enough for me to be helped out. I was insanely dazed, though. And even those who weren't mentally ill were upset. They were just able to get down the stairs whereas I generally would have hidden away. But that lady was still better than the idiots behind us who made the comment about a dog. But I didn't hear, Steffon did. Anyways we ate our meal and had a wonderful time. I think Austin has started alerting. Because I was in the middle describing the ENTIRE Prince Caspian movie to Steffon when Austin jumped up on me. About a minute later I felt like my head was being squeezed on both sides. My words started to slur and it was just bad news. Other than terrible episode I was alright-ish. I had trouble walking, but that's not particularly new. In Petco is where I really started having trouble, my legs felt like they weighed 30 pounds each, which is quiet possible, but it's different when you feel the weight. I think it is, at least. I had a hard time, there.


On Sunday I'll be taking a looong flight back home to Hawaii. But I'll be laying over in Dallas. I fly out of Mobile, which is nice because they don't have the new scanners in place. Having a service dog means that you don't get a choice in your method; it's instantly going to be the pat down. I have so much trouble with being felt in those ways. It brings back memories that I wish I didn't have. I've been freaking out trying to figure out how I was going to make it, because when I get to DFW, I'm going to have to leave security to potty Austin. And then I'm going to have to have a serious pat down. After hearing all the horror stories on youtube (my psychologist even had a few), I knew there had to be something else to do. I called my psychiatrist and got something to help level my anxiety. Now I KNOW I'll make it through. Yes! Just sucks that it has to be done by drugging up.


Signing out,

Whitney and Austin