The state of me
I debated where to post this, here or tumblr, but I've always wanted to keep my tumblr full of pretty pictures and devoid of my whining. I don't know if there'll be any whining but just in case... ;)
So I've been living in California for three months now. I haven't written since January, but I only arrived at the end of March. So far it's been going well. I'm still dealing with the fallout from the nervous breakdown and seemingly new anxiety disorder that I've acquired. I still have to take things to sleep and if I don't start falling asleep quickly I'll start having panic attacks about not sleeping.
You'd think my brain could recognize the problem and shut the fuck up, but you'd be wrong. It's equally stupid because I've always had problems falling asleep, ever since I was a little kid. But now I go into a full blown panic mode. All sorts of fun!
I've been doing a lot of psychological healing, of figuring out the reasons behind some of my reactions. It's been a bunch of two steps forward, one step back kind of things. I think I figured out some of the stuff behind my social anxiety stuff and for a couple of days I was blessedly free of it. Then I slid backwards and haven't been able to recover that freedom yet. But it's the little steps that count.
As far as my physical health, the anxiety has destroyed a lot. Endometriosis wise it's been okay. Good really when you think of the strides I've managed to make, such as managing to kayak a little bit (which I couldn't do before), but the Mirena dies this year. So there's a hell of a lot of stress over that too. Add to that the fact that I cannot get health insurance beyond Medicare. No matter how much we want to just buy a goddamn health plan they won't let us because my annual income has moved to $0. So yeah, that's fun.
Add to that the fact that I'm currently dependent on my parents to pay for anything, have this complex where I can't bring myself to ask for anything (such as the money for a much needed haircut). It's hard. And my car cost me $1700 to be legal in California, so all of my savings are gone.
I'm working on my art. I have a comic schedule of a page a week, and I'm currently working on the clay figurines and my "fishbowl mermaids." Art is slow though, and a comic on tumblr gives me no income. I want to open up to commissions and I have stuff to add to my etsy, but I know I've been dragging my feet. I've set my mental health as a priority and so I'm slow. And I'm trying not to beat myself up over it. I've also been taking care of my mom a lot, and taking over chores she can no longer do or things she's wanted done for years. So I have reasons, but that never stops my from beating myself up. I'm my own worst enemy, remember? The voices in my head are a bitch.
California is beautiful. I'm living in the place where I have wanted to live all my life. I don't regret my decision at all, even though I have this "waiting for the other shoe to drop" thing going on. Like it's all going to be taken away from me. Fear, I have a lot of fear. And I'm trying to let it go and enjoy every moment.
So that's the state of me. I'm doing okay. I love where I live and I'm working through my shit slowly. I'm doing what I love, and eventually I'll figure out how to make money. And come November I have to figure out how to get a piece of plastic and hormones out of me.
So I've been living in California for three months now. I haven't written since January, but I only arrived at the end of March. So far it's been going well. I'm still dealing with the fallout from the nervous breakdown and seemingly new anxiety disorder that I've acquired. I still have to take things to sleep and if I don't start falling asleep quickly I'll start having panic attacks about not sleeping.
You'd think my brain could recognize the problem and shut the fuck up, but you'd be wrong. It's equally stupid because I've always had problems falling asleep, ever since I was a little kid. But now I go into a full blown panic mode. All sorts of fun!
I've been doing a lot of psychological healing, of figuring out the reasons behind some of my reactions. It's been a bunch of two steps forward, one step back kind of things. I think I figured out some of the stuff behind my social anxiety stuff and for a couple of days I was blessedly free of it. Then I slid backwards and haven't been able to recover that freedom yet. But it's the little steps that count.
As far as my physical health, the anxiety has destroyed a lot. Endometriosis wise it's been okay. Good really when you think of the strides I've managed to make, such as managing to kayak a little bit (which I couldn't do before), but the Mirena dies this year. So there's a hell of a lot of stress over that too. Add to that the fact that I cannot get health insurance beyond Medicare. No matter how much we want to just buy a goddamn health plan they won't let us because my annual income has moved to $0. So yeah, that's fun.
Add to that the fact that I'm currently dependent on my parents to pay for anything, have this complex where I can't bring myself to ask for anything (such as the money for a much needed haircut). It's hard. And my car cost me $1700 to be legal in California, so all of my savings are gone.
I'm working on my art. I have a comic schedule of a page a week, and I'm currently working on the clay figurines and my "fishbowl mermaids." Art is slow though, and a comic on tumblr gives me no income. I want to open up to commissions and I have stuff to add to my etsy, but I know I've been dragging my feet. I've set my mental health as a priority and so I'm slow. And I'm trying not to beat myself up over it. I've also been taking care of my mom a lot, and taking over chores she can no longer do or things she's wanted done for years. So I have reasons, but that never stops my from beating myself up. I'm my own worst enemy, remember? The voices in my head are a bitch.
California is beautiful. I'm living in the place where I have wanted to live all my life. I don't regret my decision at all, even though I have this "waiting for the other shoe to drop" thing going on. Like it's all going to be taken away from me. Fear, I have a lot of fear. And I'm trying to let it go and enjoy every moment.
So that's the state of me. I'm doing okay. I love where I live and I'm working through my shit slowly. I'm doing what I love, and eventually I'll figure out how to make money. And come November I have to figure out how to get a piece of plastic and hormones out of me.