So, I’m working on something new.

That something new is letting go of anger and stress. I’ve been having some health issues, and I believe the major underlying cause is constant stress, which is causing other things like lack of sleep, and it’s just a big snowball.

I’ve had a recent semi-major, but hopefully only temporary life change, which is already helping my stress levels go down (I won’t bother explaining why I want something that is lowering my stress levels to be temporary). As well, I’m focusing on letting go of all the little petty, and sometimes larger things that annoy and piss me off, because there is nothing I can do about them, and while venting about them works when I am in a better state of mind, when I’m already constantly stressed, that doesn’t seem to be the right way to go. And I’m doing my best to avoid being bombarded by constant horrible news online, because while I know there is a lot of bad in the world, there is an awful lot more good, and sometimes it is hard to remember all the good when you’re drowning in the bad, because the bad gets more clicks and sells more ads. That said, I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy sappy, happy things that go viral, either. That’s just not me.

I’ve never been a terribly relaxed person (physically), even at the best of times, but I am much more relaxed now than I have been in many, many months. Hopefully my body gets the message soon and I start feeling better.



I am angry. All the time. I think I have forgotten what it is like not to be angry. I am almost 40, and that’s a long time to be continually ground down by society’s racism and sexism and homophobia and cruelty and greed and this run-on sentence could keep going for another thousand words if I let it.

My husband recently joked (with love) that I was like Homer Simpson in the episode “I Am Furious (Yellow)”, wanting to smash and get revenge on men. He’s not wrong.

But in positive news, I recently celebrated my 15th anniversary with my assbutt (with love) husband, so that’s something.



Well, it’s been two weeks since I stopped the abilify, and I’m feeling great. All the side effects are gone, and I feel so normal for the first time in a long, long time. Also found out I’ve lost 35lbs since July, so that’s awesome too.



I feel a lot better today. I am still not certain if I should trust my perception, but it’s the first day in months that time has moved with anything like normalcy, and the suicidal thoughts have been minimal. I believe I was correct that the abilify is what is causing my problems, and now that it is leaving my system I am starting to feel better. We’ll have to see what the future holds, but today I have hope.


I am slowly going crazy

A bit more than a year ago my nurse practitioner put me on wellbutrin. I was doing well enough, but after a time she also suggested abilify as well, and I said yes. I wish I hadn’t. I can’t guarantee the hell I’m currently experiencing is because of the abilify, but I have a solid suspicion that I’m correct, especially after talking to friends who have taken it, too.

I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin most of the time, time drags, I’m constantly restless and I’ve got suicidal thoughts I haven’t had in many, many years, since I was at the deepest of my depression in my late teens and early 20s. I have an appointment with my nurse practitioner coming up soon, but I’ve discontinued the abilify cold turkey, because I need to make a change, I need to. So far it’s going well enough, the side effects haven’t gotten any worse and they seem to possibly be slightly better, but I don’t know how much I can trust my perceptions. It doesn’t help that I injured my shoulder somehow and it’s taking weeks to get better.

Anyway, I’m a mess at the moment, but I’m taking everything day by day and I refuse to give up and let the depression or the drugs win.



Well, I’ve decided to bail on my DBT group.

At one point in my life, I qualified for a diagnosis of borderline personality disorder, but I no longer do. This isn’t just my opinion, I have it from a psychiatrist. So, I went into the group thinking maybe I’d get something out of it, but I’m just not. I don’t have the problems they’re addressing, and I’m just wasting my time and theirs.

I shouldn’t have said yes in the first place, but I’m bad on the spot, and my anxiety kicks in, and I say yes to get it over with. Anxiety is something I do still have a problem with, but I’m hoping to find a good group for that, since one-on-one therapy is apparently not an option.



Well, it’s five days after the procedure and I’m still recovering. The pain isn’t really worse than a period, but I’m used to cramping for two days, not five. Right now I’ve got a headache and depression, but I can’t tell if either of those are related, since I’ve got depression anyway. Called out sick from my DBT group – I feel bad, it’s only my second session, but I’m just not up for it today. Looking forward to this all being over.


The big day

So, today was the big day. Found out I was pregnant on July 13th and it’s taken me this long to be able to get the abortion. Two ultrasounds, blood work, pee tests, all that great stuff. Learned that only one doctor in my city performs abortions, and only at the hospital in the next city over, so Canada’s laws might be some of the most favorable in the world when it comes to accessing abortion, but that doesn’t always make it easy to access.

Woke up at 6:30, had to be at the hospital for 8:45 for a 10:45 surgery. Had a brief moment in the cab on the way there where I thought I would burst into tears (not because of what was about to happen, but because of the realization that the last three times I’d been to that specific hospital my grandfather had died, my mother had died, and I’d had a miscarriage), but I got myself together and avoided the embarrassment. Got checked in, the wait was long and boring, but not as long and boring as waiting a month and a half since the day I found out, heh. On the plus side, I learned I’ve lost 12lbs since my last weighing. As usual, the nurse had trouble with the IV, and after what felt like a beating and five minutes of pumping my fist, she finally got the IV in. I think I’ve lost track of the amount of times I’ve been told by a medical professional that I have “bad veins”.

They wheeled me to the OR around 10:45 and did the usual surgery checks. I got a general anesthetic, for which I was grateful, as I didn’t really want to be awake for the procedure. With my anxiety, I expected I’d fight the anesthetic, but I only remember three deep breaths before waking up 30 minutes later in OR recovery. 15 minutes later they took me to recover on the ward where I was rejoined by my husband. Got some pills for the pain and some pills to prevent infection, and was discharged just after 12:30.

So I’m home now, and reflecting on everything. I feel lighter now, the invisible weight I was carrying on my shoulders is gone. Looking back, I’ve only cried once during this entire ordeal, and that briefly, and I don’t really expect to cry now. I can’t say there isn’t part of me that’s sad, and wishes things could have been different. A third child probably would have been nice, but we’re not prepared financially, we’re not prepared mentally, and this is the reason I had a tubal ligation in the first place. Mostly I just feel relieved, because it’s over and I can move on. A lot of people helped me through this time and I thank them all and give them my love.

I’ve always been pro-choice, and I am so, so glad that this procedure is legal and safe, and that it was an option for me. But I hope I never have to go through it again.