The Dark Parts

Mental Illness is no joke. We’ve all heard it before. We’ve heard the catch phrase “Fight the Stigma!” We’ve heard the horror stories, the success stories, and the stories of those who didn’t make it. They make out mental illness to be this war zone. To tell you the truth though,

It’s so much more than that

It’s all the criticisms on the outside, ‘You’re making a mountain out of a mole hill.’ ‘It’s normal to be sad.’ ‘You’re so crazy!’

No shit people….

You try to tell them about the criticizing voices on the inside, the voices you so want to tell yourself are made by you, but you know they aren’t. This isn’t you, you wouldn’t want to degrade, belittle, or lower yourself to the level beneath scum. You, wouldn’t want to die.

It’s the dark parts of you, the dark parts no one really ever talks about.


Why would anyone want to talk about it? No one wants to know, and more so we don’t want to unearth what we all work hard to utterly evict out of our lives.

But, we need to. We need to put it out there, so we can stop clinging to it. For most of us, Light-in-the-Darknessit’s our familiar. When it’s gone, we slightly freak out but yet we sigh in relief for the sweet silence, and cling to that for a while. It’s a strange paradox those with mental illness live in. No one wants to admit it, but it’s strange to imagine a life where we are in control. We create more ideas to make the darkness go away for a little while, but we never in a completely lit space. We just find temporary light to get us through the rough times.

The dark parts, the teddy bear that’s torn to hell but you don’t want to let go of it, even though it smells like last years Chinese take out, and it’s missing all of it’s buttons because you’ve had it since before you can remember. It’s our familiar, even though it makes us look, and almost feel like crap. It’s a reminder of all that we’ve gone through.

It’s a part of us, even though we wish it weren’t sometimes. Sometimes, it’s a twisted sense of comfort.


I Am Finally A Quitter

I haven’t been able to get cigarettes out of my life on my own ever, until now. Nursing is predominately against smoking, and many of the hospitals around the country are banning the use of any tobacco products on their facilities. I really don’t want a cigarette running my career for me. I chose to let them go.

Quitting smoking is utterly ridiculous.

Let me tell you, days 1 and 2, weren’t so bad. Days 3 through 8 however, were hell. I was angry, I said horrible things, I looked and felt like death warmed over, and coffee made everything worse. However, I made it to today, which is day 10. Day 10 has actually been pleasant. I’m still slightly grouchy, but I can reel myself in a lot faster than day 8.


I’m pretty proud of myself. The only time I’ve done this well, was when I was too broke for cigarettes, not because I made the choice to let them go. I’ve made strides all across the board in a positive manner.

Is it easy to quit? No, absolutely not. However, it’s totally worth it. I had physical symptoms, headaches, acid reflux, the cough from hell, and nausea mainly. My psychological symptoms are the worst though. The depressive moments that I KNOW are utterly ridiculous but I can’t shake them. The anger, the irritability, the lack of patience, I got on my own nerves!

However, I didn’t give up on myself. I feel like I’m worth more than a leafy filled death sentence.


The struggle was real

I really struggled these last few days with finding a topic to write on. I’ve had the stress of finals, some personal struggles at home, and the stress of being a mother and a wife. Finding some quiet headspace was a struggle in itself, nonetheless doing any sort of thinking while I was there. I thought really found myself feeling low. I said I was beginning anew, and I was stepping in the same old habits as before. I can’t do it, so why even try?

I forgot that I’m human. I have red blood running through me, and a brain that forgets like everyone else. I forgot that even though I’ve been stressed, I’ve accomplished a lot. I’ve made so many strides for my family, for my career and for myself. I have battled thef enemy spaces on the inside of my head, and actually won. I have learned patience with myself, forgiveness of my own transgressions, and that pain and hurt are parts of life that you can either wallow in, or grow from. I almost forgot those things when I thought about this blog.


I’ve had a really hard time being forgiving of myself when I forget or just can’t do vsomething. I’m even worse when it comes to something I truly like to do. That’s really how I functioned during school, lots of pressure, tears, and self pity. It worked, I found out I made the presidents list today. I haven’t EVER had a 4.0 average, and it amazes me that I could do it nine years out of high school. I turned in my nursing application last Wednesday, and I was so concerned with doing that before finals were over with. I could have bombed them, and lost my opportunity. I however chose to have faith in myself and turned it in early. I haven’t struggled as much with giving myself credit where credit is due, or having faith in myself.

I have realized that if I don’t post every single day that it’s okay. Writing is on MY terms, not the terms of anyone else. I write to relax, and to enjoy myself and that’s alright. I do sthis for enjoyment, and not for anyone else’s. I have accomplished so much more than a good semester of school grades, and a happy home. I’ve worked so hard to see myself as beautiful, strong, intelligent and happy. I’ve forgiven myself and others for things that they have done, and the past stay where it belongs, in the past. I have realized that I can’t completely fight what I have going on in my head alone, I need help and that’s okay. I realized that, I’m going to have bad days, and that’s okay too. I’m not as bad as I thought I was.

I am awesome just the way I am, and so is everything that I do. As long as I do the best I can, and do it for my own happiness, that is all that truly matters.