Poppy Mom tagged me for this, although she had NO idea she did so. She’s sneaky that way.

Anyway, I have nothing today. So, here goes:

What were you doing 10 years ago?

I was a Freshman at University of Oregon. I lived in the Willcox Dorm with the lovely Elise. My diet consisted of Mar Far Chicken from Kowloon’s, dessert breadsticks from Pizza Pipeline, and whatever snacks my mom sent me. My hobbies included: calling the cafeteria each morning to see if it was Chocolate Croissant Day, watching the Price is Right with Krissy, watching “The Big Dave Show” with Elise (that’s David Letterman), writing letters to my missionary boyfriend, and making mix tapes.

What were you doing 1 year ago?

I worked in Portland for the world’s largest software company. I lived with my smelly ex-boyfriend. My hobbies were being pissed off and drinking lots of red wine.

Five snacks you enjoy:

1. Cheese and crackers
2. Cheddar and Jalapeno Bagels
3. String Cheese
4. Cheese Popcorn
5. Any other form of cheese

(I may have a problem)

Five songs you know all the lyrics to:

1. Stay by Lisa Loeb
2. My Valentine by Rhett Miller
3. Just Like Heaven by The Cure
4. Girlfriend in a Coma by The Smiths (shut up, I love this song)
5. Hey Eugene! by Pink Martini

Five things you would to if you were a millionaire:

1. Invest
2. Hire Carl, my hair stylist to live with me to style my hair and watch bad tv with me
3. Buy a purse for every day of the year (only partially kidding)
4. Make sure my family is set financially
5. Donate lots to charity

Five bad habits:

1. Losing my debit card
2. Forgetting to refill prescriptions
3. Procrastinating
4. Picking at my nails
5. Not eating breakfast

Five things you like doing:

1. Sleeping in
2. Knitting
3. Monday Happy Hour (okay, all Happy Hour, you got me)
4. Holding hands with the boy (cheese, I know)
5. Cooking

Five things you would never wear again:

1. Flannel shirts
2. Short shorts
3. Tops in which my back is bare (there was an unfortunate trip to Las Vegas in which I wore a shirt like this)
4. A water bra (shut up, I used to be very small chested)
5. Mules (HATE!)

Five favorite toys:

1. My MacBook
2. My Treo
3. iPod
4. My pink Kitchen Aid Mixer
5. My pink Dyson (although not technically a toy, it does make me happy)

That’s all folks, join me, won’t you?

I’m feeling better. Not back to normal, but better, nonetheless. Some things I need to work on for myself.

1. Stop isolating myself when I’m sad. Ashleigh has agreed to drag my ass out when I’m in hibernation mode. My pal Josh did a good job of this last night, and you know what? I had a good time! Cosmopolitans and Banana Creme Pie helped lots. The company wasn’t bad, either.
2. I will no longer wait until I have zero Anti-Anxiety meds to refill them. That’s just plain silly.
3. I’ve made an appointment with my friendly therapist, Alison. She’s nice to talk to sometimes.
4. And, I’m going to count my blessings daily. Because, there are a lot of them.

That’s all I have today, friends!

xoxoxox

Sometimes I find that writing about something makes me feel much better about it. I think we all feel this way. There has been one thing I hesitate to write about, because it’s so intimate. Not that kind of intimate. But, well, you know.

I suffer from Clinical Depression and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I’ve been taking medication for this on and off since I was 11 years old.

To say my childhood was rough would be an understatement. My parents divorced when I was an infant, and back in those days the mother always got custody of the child. My mom was in a string of abusive relationships, and in most cases, I was abused as well.

When I was 6 years old, my mother’s husband (I will never refer to him as my step-father, you’ll see why) picked me up by my feet and swung me back and forth in the kitchen, hitting my head on the cabinets. There was blood everywhere. I got several stictches from this and still have scars on my head.

When I was 7 years old, my mother’s husband (same person as above) shoved a large bar of Dial soap in my mouth and left it there for an hour. I went to the hospital with torn lips and blisters on my tongue. My grandparents took me immediately. I am not sure how long I stayed with them, but I do remember that I was enrolled in school, so it must have been a while. This is the last time he was allowed to hurt me.

At 11, my mother’s boyfriend at the time backed me into the corner of our kitchen yelling and screaming at me. He didn’t touch me, but as I was cowering in the corner, I began having flashbacks of the horrible things that happened to me as a child. I began seeing a Child Psychologist and one day, when it all got too much for me to bear, I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and hospitalized. I was told I was in a “Feelings Hospital”.

To this day I don’t know why I was there. I say this because these things still haunt me. I want to be fixed. I find it so hard to trust men, or people in general. Some mornings, I wash my hair and feel the scar and shudder. I can’t believe that someone let these things happen to me.

I write this today, because I am struggling. I feel myself falling deeper and deeper into a dark place. I find it ridiculously hard to get out of bed in the mornings. I fight tears at work. It seems that things are going so well in my personal life, I have a fantastic boyfriend. I love my job. But, I’m miserable. I’m sick of being sick. I don’t want to be medicated for the rest of my life. I want to spring out of bed in the a.m. I want to smile and laugh. But, I can’t. I just can’t.

I feel like I’m nuts. Why can’t I just be happy?