Let me paint you a picture

What does anxiety look like? Well, it looks a lot like this

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Yep, that’s me yesterday hiking in Horsetooth park. Now that the weather has started to perk up for the summer time, I decided it’s time to get back outside to remind myself why I came out to Colorado in the first place. So, I did the same loop I did about 4 months ago on Christmas Eve, which takes me through the falls, and then up to the top of Horsetooth Rock. Well, actually I didn’t. This photo was taken about halfway through the planned route before I started having a panic attack and made it to about 15 minutes away from the top and decided that I couldn’t do it.

Moral of that story? Don’t believe that everyone who posts these nice selfies on Instagram and Facebook are “happy.”

So here’s what anxiety really looks like. It started with yesterday, going for a nice hike and overall okay despite the fact that it was my first day without a single dose of my anxiety medications. I was about 15 minutes away from getting to the top of the rock when I decided that I wanted to go climb up another rock to sit and eat my snack and drink my “summit beer” (usually these things happen at the actual top, or the “summit,” and it’s always definitely a good idea to bring something that’s low ABV, which in this case was 4.5%). That’s when the anxiety set in. Suddenly, everything felt different. A sense of dread and everything seemed foreign, despite the fact that I’ve done this hike probably half a dozen times in the past year. I felt shaky and out of my body. Despite all this, I wanted to make it to the top of the mountain since it was easy. I climbed down from my rock and proceeded to hike, and then decided, nope, I wanted to go home. I wanted to crawl into bed in my sweatpants and watch Netflix by myself. And that’s what I did. A really exciting end to that part of the story.

I sat in bed trying to drown out my sense of dread and anxiety with Netflix and another beer, really not looking forward to waking up early for work the next day, which I really didn’t want to go to. I just started this job and was super excited about it because it meant that I was able to leave the job I hated and be involved in something I liked: locally sourced food. As a vegan and an advocate for natural, locally sourced food, I took a job in a new market opening up in town that sounded like it could be my new home, where I could thrive a bit being around something that I’m legitimately passionate about. But it’s ended up being a sense of dread because I hate being bored and being around new people and in particular, new bosses whom I’m convinced dislike me. There’s no real reason for that, just a feeling. The anxiety talking to me. Either way, I tried to drown out my anxiety with a Netflix binge, some yoga, seeing D, and trying to get some sleep.

But I couldn’t sleep.

I kept trying to think of a million reasons to not go to work. Tired. Sick. Klonopin withdrawal. I could find another job. I could pick up more shifts at my other job to get by. ¬†Eventually, the tiny dose I take of klonopin at night kicked in and fell asleep to wake up to the day I dreaded. I tried not to think about it as I got ready for the day, but I still found myself sitting in silence for minutes at a time (good thing I get up early) just thinking and thinking and thinking and wondering how I could possibly get out of going to work, how I could get on with my life, what I should even do with my life in general. Why am I here? Why am I doing this to myself? Why am I out here doing jobs I don’t like to go on adventures that I don’t want to go on anymore and in the end, being semi-broke, hating myself and my life.

Biking to work helps. Except for when I get super anxious when I’m in the middle of traffic and I’m scared that everyone on the road hates “that stupid biker that I almost hit.” I try to drown it out and know that everyone who drives in Fort Collins knows that there are cyclists everywhere. Most of the main roads are bike friendly, but I road through the backroads and neighborhoods to avoid traffic. I got to work and had to take a moment to collect myself while locking up my bike, telling myself that I was gonna make it to 2pm. Only 6 hours, that’s not a long work day. I’ve done worse.

But I got to work and immediately zoned out and couldn’t focus on anything. One of my bosses finally came up and asked me to go to the walk-in fridge/freezer to seal up popsicle wrappers. This basically involved me standing in the walk-in fridge for about 30 minutes using a heat press to seal the ends of popsicle wrappers (my bosses also run a pop shop a couple streets over). About 10 minutes into this, I got really cold. Like REALLY cold. And then I realized I was stuck in there for I don’t even know how long because I’m a wimp and hate cold, and I started to panic. I could feel myself getting sick but didn’t want to say anything to my boss because I didn’t want him to think that I actually was a wimp and couldn’t stand being in a 40ish degree fridge for short periods of time. But I stuck with it, despite telling one of my co-workers that I felt sick and I have a hypersensitivity to cold. She responded with “Do you have bad circulation or something?” To which, because it totally made the best sense and would give me a reason to not be in the fridge, I responded “yeah, I have low blood pressure,” which is actually true.

After finishing up in the fridge, I sat out behind the counter with some hot coffee for a while, feeling light headed, weak, and a bit panicky. I kept wondering how the hell I was going to make it to 2 o’clock when it was barely 10am and I already needed to leave. After a while, I finally mentioned to another coworker that I felt a bit sick from being in the fridge and told her I was probably going to ask to go home. She told me to just go home. So I did. I felt bad. I felt everything and nothing. I hated my job, but I hated myself more. Still feeling legitimately a bit sick, I started to bike home, which really sucks when you feel lightheaded. I was panicky the whole way home. Shaky and barely able to stay in the bike lane. When I got home I crawled into bed and hid. Hid from everything. Myself, my job, my roommates, my entire world. I could feel my heart beating in my chest. I stared at Craigslist Jobs and Indeed for about an hour before I stressed myself out even more by wondering what the fuck I was doing with my entire life.

And so ends my 24 hour long panic attack. I’m still trying to figure out how I can get out of work tomorrow, and if I do go, can I make it? I can’t leave work early 2 days in a row. I don’t want people to think I’m weak, because in the hindsight of it all, I’m not. I just feel things more strongly than others. I feel life and its stresses clearer, not always in the best way, but sometimes logical when need be. I know the things I can do, the things I can’t, and the things that I’m still not sure of.

But I know I can take a selfie and look like I’m doing more than alright.

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2016: The Unnecessarily Heated Debate

I really don’t like posting statuses on Facebook that are controversial. Mostly because I avoid arguments like the plague, and some people just get way too angry about it and then post unnecessary comments under it like “MY FAMILY WAS MURDERED BY HARAMBE.” Or, you know, something like that, because everyone has that one friend on Facebook with completely uncalled for and unfactual opinions that they post just to prove a point. I get it. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion.

But yesterday I finally got so fed up with everyone posting about 2016 and how they can’t wait for it to be over. And it got me thinking. I’m pretty sure everyone said the same thing about 2015 too. And 2014. So I posted this status:

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I mean, for real guys, if everyone in 1348 had Facebook, imagine those statuses at the end of the year. “Well, everyone, the black death has doth taken my entire family and most of my friends, leaving me alone in poverty. I resign myself from 1348 and will spend this New Years Eve in prayer that 1349 will bring us abundance and joy.” Or however they talked in 1348. I’m not really sure. But that year had to really suck. Continue reading “2016: The Unnecessarily Heated Debate”

that time I wrote a post during psych class

So today is #worldbipolarday, apparently. Thanks Facebook! As I was scrolling through the black hole that is facebook at 8:45 this evening during class (it’s not like you’ve never done it. And besides it’s 8FUCKING45 AND I’M IN CLASS), I noticed that little annoying thing in the corner of things that are “trending,” one of which is #worldbipolarday. I’m about to throw some facts in your face like a cream pie so look out. And taste the cream pie.

First of all, bipolar disorder is NOT borderline personality disorder. There are several varieties of bipolar disorder, but simply, there is bipolar 1 and bipolar 2. It’s kind of like diabetes, 1 is worse than 2. Worse is kind of a bad word. Ok how about “more severe.” When most people think of bipolar disorder, they probably think of the common features of bipolar 1, which is the rapid cycling and severe highs and severe lows that can change very quickly. HOWEVER. People with bipolar disorder do NOT switch back and forth between being angry to happy to suicidal in a matter of minutes. Manic episodes or depressives episodes can last for almost an entire week. Same with a rapid cycling episode. Rapid cycling is more like the stereotype of bipolar disorder: it’s exactly what it sounds like. Rapid back and forth with mood. Rapid cycling can be seen in bipolar 2 as well.

And let me tell you, rapid cycling is scary. It’s unexplainable. One minute you feel great. You can conquer the world. You’re going to go home and knock out all of your homework and stay up all night drawing and tomorrow you’re going to go run 5 miles and then go get plastered that night. That’s the plan anyway. Your manic brain’s plan. But, as the rapid cycling goes, maybe an hour or so later, your mood drops lower than you could ever feel. You want to die. You want to curl up in a ball in your bed and waste away with Netflix and junk food. Nothing matters. You don’t care. You’re tired. Fuck everything. You feel depressed. But wait… you bounce back eventually!

Bipolar disorder is a brain disorder. Major depressive disorder is a brain disorder as well, but you can trick yourself out of it (that makes it sound so easy). Yeah, your brain chemistry is messed up but I know that it’s easy to trick yourself into feeling happy. Bipolar is different. You are literally trapped by the¬†reduced volume of your prefrontal cortex (it’s the part of the brain right above your eyes). Among other structural abnormalities in your brain. And some other neuroscience that I don’t understand because I just have an (almost) degree in psychology and psychology majors do not understand biology. Unless you’re getting your bachelor of science. Then you can’t sit with us B.A. psych majors. We’re a different species. Ok so anyway.

Did you know that bipolar disorder is so incredibly common? It shocks me that a very large percentage of the population has bipolar 2 disorder, and often it’s misdiagnosed as depression. 2.6% of the US adult population suffers from bipolar disorder, and 2.2% suffer from severe bipolar disorder (thank you, NIMH statistics). This doesn’t sound like a lot, but it’s literally about 3 out of every 100 people that have bipolar disorder.

My therapist has a chalkboard in her office that has a huge list of celebrities that have bipolar disorder so here’s a few: Jim Carrey, Russell Brand, Carrie Fisher (Princess Leia), Mel Gibson, Demi Lovato, Marilyn Monroe (I know, right?), Lou Reed, Axl Rose, Ernest Hemingway…. The list goes on forever.

Sidenote, I don’t have bipolar disorder. I’ve been misdiagnosed with it several times and maybe I do have it but honestly, who knows. And I don’t care. You are not your label. You are not your DSM code or the medications you take. You are a person. A beautiful person that I want to hug and tell you that you will be ok just like everyone else. Some days will be better than others and that’s inevitable. But it’s ok. As a very annoying smiling cat once said…

We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.
Lewis Carroll

that time I found home, and other cool places

So hello from Colorado? From the other side? I haven’t called a thousand times because I don’t miss anything from the East Coast. Ok not EVERYTHING because obviously I miss some people (key word, “some”). But damn, let’s start off with the fact there is a hipster coffee shop every other block, breweries everywhere, and just look in any direction and you’ll see the mountains. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I came home.

Also, did you know that hula hoops are not just for the rave kids that I hate so much? (Not “hate,” but they’re pretty annoying and sorry but molly isn’t my thing, party on though guys) Well, when you have your friend’s girlfriend give you a light show with her LED hoops and you realize that you literally cannot do anything she’s doing, you start to reconsider this “hooping” phenomenon. So now I have my own hula hoop and I feel like I’m 5 years old again. AND IT GLOWS. JUST SAYING. So I’ll be honest, I think I can give up binge drinking and Netflix as long as I have some chill pills, a hoop, and beautiful mountains that I can go to whenever I want. This is it, guys. The Rockies are calling my name. I was gonna do an internship in Florida, but now, I honestly think I’ll be happier just living for a bit.

Let’s break down my trip into a few paragraphs. I know that not EVERYTHING about Colorado is amazing all the time, but the things I’ve discovered have been so eye opening to me. Baltimore is such a little closed off city in comparison. Unless you’re just about going to clubs and bars, there’s not much to do except work and go to school.

Boulder. Let’s start with that. A place that I know I could never afford but it’s literally surrounded by mountains. They’re within walking distance. We hiked up part of Chautauqua and you don’t even have to walk up that far to get a beautiful view of the city and the mountains.

And ok I know I said I’ll take the chill pills and hoops over drinking and Netflix, but this really is the best place to find good beer. I don’t like foam on anything. Lattes, beer, etc. Never appealed. But then I tried Left Hand Brewery’s Nitro Milk Stout on tap and I entered an entirely new world of “foam.” Literally like ice cream.

But also check out the foam on that latte. I take back everything I’ve ever said about foam being gross.

Ok, I know that not everyone really wants to hear about my trip just because, you know, I never find any interest in anyone else’s vacations but maybe that’s just me. Like, when Blob went to Belize, I don’t think I even really asked him about it (Did I?). Maybe because I was just pretty jealous that I was stuck in Maryland in the cold and he was hanging out on a beach. Then again, he did get food poisoning. I guess my jealousy radiates (sorry Blob). But I think I’m happier to be around the snow and mountains than some tourist trap beach with sand fleas. In the end, it works out.

I’m just not happy in Maryland. I’m just not happy with my life right now (complaint moment). School is terrible and stressful when combined with working, and for some reason, I just can’t find myself doing things that I would like to be doing with my life. I’m not living right now. I’m just cruising on a huge ship to nowhere and praying to every god from every religion that I graduate from college in May so I can get on with my life and start actually living and experiencing everything our world has to offer. And not just the course catalog.

So I guess it’s official. The next time I come out here, it’s for good. I’ve never come to a town where suddenly felt like “hey, I could stay here for the rest of my life.” I know I don’t want to stay in Maryland forever. 22 years has been more than enough. I’ve seen the East Coast, it’s cool, but I’m ready to move on, to reinvent myself, and to be in a happier place. Yes yes I know I’m talking about a geographic cure and that my problems will follow me wherever I go, but honestly? Location makes a huge difference. Being around beautiful things makes life feel more beautiful and worth it. Out here, I haven’t laughed as hard as I ever have, or even just let myself go with dancing. It’s a vacation and I know it won’t last forever, but I’ve never felt so ready to be alive.

(Also, cause why not, here’s our dorky craft beer brewery selfie)

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that time I got writer’s block

I really have writer’s block guys. Like, I’ve started the beginning of this post about 5 times already and can’t think of anything witty or worth writing that anyone would be interested in reading. Maybe NOW I’ll actually start losing followers. Maybe I’m just brain dead from my episode last week in combination with cramming for THREE exams this week. As much as I did study, I realized that overstudying is a real thing. In high school they always warned us of “overstudying” which I thought was total bullshit because how can you OVER study? If you know that material page by page and can recite it without anything in front of you to the point that all you can think about is the information you’ve studied, then I think you’re more than set for a test.

Turns out this is definitely not a good thing.

I overstudied, but I absorbed absolutely nothing. Man, why did I take all classes this semester in which my grade is reflected by my test taking? I can’t even take a buzzfeed quiz without getting distracted or disliking my result. I can write a paper no problem. Last semester I went insane with writing. As in, I wrote a 10 pager AND a 5 pager in about 7 hours. Cited sources, bibliography, background research and all. Except I didn’t proofread at all. But I got an A. That’s like, college mastery if college was ONLY papers. Most of the posts on my blog I write in less than an hour, sometimes half an hour. I guess the content must be alright if you guys are still here reading it.

Wow, writer’s block is terrible. I’m writing about writing. I have to keep you guys coming back somehow though, right? Honestly, if you give me a prompt I will write a post about that. As long as it doesn’t involve D Trump’s hair or “Feeling the Bern.” Thanks, I know where I stand politically, I’d rather sit out here in the sun and not scroll through the internet finding more and more redundant articles about what political figure did or said what or how the Trump’s hair looks today (honestly though, why does he not have a stylist with the amount of money he has? Unless he thrives on making his own style decisions… in which case, if you can’t even make your hair look okay because of personal choice, I won’t vote for you. Personal appearance is a make it or break it, let’s be real. Everyone voted for JFK because he was a handsome young candidate. And he was actually a good president.*)

Oh here’s something: So it’s been like, 80 degrees all this week. It’s still technically winter and I’m confused but considering how happy the sun and warmth makes me, I’m not complaining too much. Sun brings the Alice in me out. I’ve been wearing my sundresses and heels everyday. But today I walked out of the house in a skirt that was kind of flowy (yes that’s a word spellcheck, don’t tell me I’m making things up), realized there was a slight breeze, but nothing too bad. But of course, if the wind is 5mph at my house, it’s 20 at school. So yeah, I’ve been that girl walking around campus keeping my hands by my side nonchalantly to make sure I don’t flash anyone (at least I’m wearing cute undies and not grannie panties. That would just be embarrassing). The odds of me pulling a Marilyn Monroe today are slightly high. It’s not like it’s never happened before.. flashback to standing on top of the building of the Newseum in D.C. and my skirt went up all the way. At least I was, like, 13 and in middle school and not 22 and on my college campus.

And in other news, Alice is back. She is alive. She’s weak, but she’s still here! Proof? Blob. Alice loves working with Blob for some reason. She must like him even though apparently she doesn’t. He definitely seems like her type but you know what, she also tried to convince herself that she liked my ex-boyfriend also and that did not end well. Anyway, I transitioned for the first time in a few months last week. It was very brief, and thank god she didn’t try to drink anything (Alice is more of an alcoholic than I am) because I’m trying to stay sober and not fuck with my blood pressure. I was there in a depersonalized state though. She seemed exhausted. What the hell has she been up to? Her wonderland must be falling apart. I can feel her as a part of me still. My hypomania has come back in small bits, just like how I felt when I felt fully integrated. My libido is back, I love my lingerie again, no pants are the best pants, I’m craving meat again (I really should get my iron levels checked, a bacon cheeseburger sounds so good right now) and damn my legs look good and I know it.

Or maybe I’m just happier being sober.

*I know I said I wouldn’t talk about politics, but JFK was a pretty damn charming man. Get real guys.

that time I watched Taylor Swift videos instead of studying

Honestly, I’m kind of upset that Taylor Swift doesn’t allow Spotify to use her music. It would make this whole Taylor Swift binge much easier instead of having to listen to ads on YouTube ever 4 minutes. Wait, that was a terrible beginning to a post. And not even the point. I should be studying for the 3 exams I have over the next 2 days but instead I’m eating sweet potato fries out of the pan because I was too lazy to get a plate and I’m jamming to T-Swizzle.

Also apparently I took a picture of myself in the ambulance. Fasten your feet for a bumpy ride!
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I know I know I haven’t posted in a while. Ok like 5 days but THATS A LOT FOR ME. I’ve also officially been sober for a week. Correlation or…? -hold that thought while I devour these fries because I can’t multitask..Ok back to this-ONE WEEK OF SOBRIETY THOUGH. That’s the longest I’ve gone in…………????????? Since I turned 21 probably. Which sucks because I have some really nice wine that’s untouched and I would totally drink one glass because it’s $12 wine and not my $4 Three Blind Moose Merlot. $4 wine is okay to drink in one sitting (financially, not okay for your health, I know that), but when you actually spend money on GOOD wine, it’s not okay to drink that all at once.

Depression really sucks. I know I don’t actually have depression and that I’m the biggest hypocrite in the world because I do go through those really awful periods of FEELING depressed but not BEING depressed. (see next post that will probably be called “that time I realized I’m the biggest hypocrite on the internet) But today I was able to say I am happy. Not in a “I had a near death experience and life is beautiful and shouldn’t be taken for granted” kind of way. It was just a moment. I was sitting next to the gross lake at school in the sun just taking in the sunlight, sipping my tea, listening to Summer Vibes by Walk Off the Earth (yes, you should look that up right now. Blob actually has a good taste in music*) and just enjoying this moment I had with myself. I felt confident, sexy (I wore heels for the first time since being discharged from the hospital! And I even whipped out a dress I hadn’t worn in a while and DAMN MY LEGS ACTUALLY LOOK GOOD), and even feeling better about school. So yeah, I kinda felt like a bad bitch and hence why I’m now listening to Taylor Swift because darling, I’m a nightmare dressed like a daydream (that actually might be accurate).

But today, I felt ok. That’s really weird considering how stressed out I should be. I’m ok with that. Ever since I stopped drinking, I’ve been sleeping better and my concentration has been improving slightly (despite probably irrepairable brain damage YES SPELL CHECK THAT IS A WORD). So maybe that’s some incentive to stop drinking. Not to mention I have to save up money to finish every tattoo I want on my body RIGHT NOW (not really, but 2 of them). And maybe I’ll even lose some weight from not consuming 600 calories of red wine every night. Yeah, there’s 600 calories in a bottle of red wine. I almost stopped drinking when I read that, but instead I just cut back my overall calorie intake. That was a mistake. But you know, don’t a lot of “experts” say that drinking a glass or 2 of red wine daily is beneficial to your health? Not that I could actually stick to 1 or 2 glasses, but is this going to negatively impact my health by NOT having wine? This is an actual question and I don’t trust the “experts.” I don’t even trust the doctors who said my blood pressure was back to normal. Or my gyno telling me that the strings of my IUD disappearing is nothing to worry about. I feel like these are all things to be paranoid and have a legitimate concern but I guess no one trusts a hypochondriac either.

Wow and I keep having to keep taking breaks during this post because T-Swift is really the bomb.com. By the way, if you ever type “bomb.com” in a text, it will automatically make it a link. DONT CLICK IT. I totally did. It took me to a site that linked me to virgin hair and indian hair weaves. Indian hair weave I get, but virgin hair? I think I should probably not click on that link, mostly because I don’t want my computer to get a virus and not necessarily because I’m afraid of getting some really weird porn pop up on my screen. I take back what I said about my concentration getting better. Apparently it isn’t considering I’ve jumped around 5 topics in this post. That’s ok. I’m a blogger, not a writer. We’re like, a completely different species because we don’t have editors. Some do. Like Jenny Lawson but really how much does her editor really do other than fix minor errors? I should probably get one of those….sounds expensive.

Someone asked me this week what my “thing” is. I totally realized I don’t have a thing. I guess this blog is one of my “thing”s but what is my purpose? I really don’t want to address that actually. That sounds way too complicated and that would be about a 5,000 word post that no one would actually read. Let’s be real: no one cares about another person’s life purpose. Everyone is existing for themselves. That’s just human nature.

Good things might be starting to happen in my life. Some things are ending (I’m sorry you’re suffering Zeke, please go peacefully and please no one report me to animal control for not taking my dying rat to the vet because he is actually dying and he’s beyond treatable now). But new things are beginning! As they happen, I’m sure I will be nonstop posting about it, not that anyone really cares about my personal life considering that’s not the point of this blog (what is the point anyway?) I am still the same person because as Zach Braff said in one of my favorite movies… (I love ending posts with a quote)

“Let’s just be whatever it is that we are. And everything will be okay.”**

Okay I lied about this post being over. Alice is back. Thank you for coming back Alice. I missed you.

*For some reason, I can never find that perfect song that uplifts me but Blob sends me these random songs I’ve never heard and I’m always like WHY DO I NOT KNOW THIS I HAVE SPOTIFY I HAVE THE MUSIC WORLD LITERALLY AT MY FINGERTIPS. Thanks Blob. You’re the best.

**Garden State. Watch it. Now. No really. Watch it.

that time Scrubs defied my expectations of hospitals

You have no idea how long it took for me to come up with that title. Okay, it took me the 36 hours I spent in the hospital to come up with it. My back up title was “that time everyone thought I was dead.” Both are true though. Blob’s phone was apparently blowing up with texts from my coworkers asking if I was okay*

I guess this trip to the hospital should have been my “wake up call” or when I finally got an epiphany and decided to change my life. Stop drinking, be happy, appreciate how precious life is and all that bullshit that people say they feel after they come close to dying. I don’t know if I almost died or not. I asked but they wouldn’t tell me (seriously, wtf? It would be nice to know how bad my condition is). But I guess when your blood pressure is 78/42 and you have an IV in your arm while drinking charcoal, maybe that’s an indicator of how serious your condition is, but then again it could have also been a precautionary measure or they were blowing it out of proportion or who knows what. Ok I guess you’re wondering what happened. I’m not going to go into complete details for the sake of putting this on the internet where everyone can see this.

After questioning whether or not Alice was still a part of me, and feeling pretty down about losing a part of myself, I sunk back into my depression. More of a bipolar depression. One minute I was fine, and then I fell into a hole of binge drinking to push away the depressive feelings I felt coming on. And then I was fine again. And then Alice put some pills in my hand and I was texting an ex boyfriend telling him what I had just done**.

About 20 minutes later, 2 cops and 6 paramedics were in my living room and I found myself strapped into an ambulance and being forced to drink charcoal. Honestly, I’m glad I was so plastered for that moment because I’m pretty sure charcoal tastes terrible and that getting an IV inserted into your arm is probably pretty unpleasant. I must’ve looked fantastic***I blacked out after that. I guess I fell asleep. And then I woke up at 6am when my blood pressure monitor started blaring because my blood pressure had dropped to 78/42. If you don’t know what that means, my blood pressure (which is typically on the lower side) jumped back to a healthy 110/70something today.

But ok seriously, every medical show has defied every expectation of hospitals. Except for stereotypes. Those are totally real. Doctors never go see their patients. No one is actually friendly. The scrubs they give you to wear are meant for a 600 pound man and they’re made out of paper. That token black nurse with a prayer book is actually a terrible person and likes to threaten you with God and yells at you when you don’t make eye contact with her (seriously, just like Laverne from Scrubs but awful). And if you’re there for an overdose, no one treats you like you’re human or actually cares that you’re there or that you’re vegan and hungry so they give you bacon egg and cheese, and tuna fish sandwiches for meals. Hospital food is the devil on a plate. But desperate times come for desperate measures when the only thing in your stomach is water and charcoal and none of the doctors actually care that even got food in the first place.****

And going off that rant of vegan food, I was beginning to doubt being vegan. Did I really want to do this? I wanted to eat meat and cheese to spite all the vegans that make me hate being vegan. You’re still here, Alice, you’re doing this to me. I can’t even be mad honestly just because it’s a sign that she’s still there. Just please stop letting me do that, Alice. It’s time for a vegan detox.

Anyway. I know that I’m not better. I know that whatever I did was not a smart decision and I know that I want to keep living without being attached to wires. I know I need to take a break from drinking. I know a lot of things now. I haven’t made any decisions except to not drink this week due to doctor’s orders. I know I shouldn’t do any exercise or heavy lifting for a week (so long, gym body for a week). I know my short-term memory is shot. I know that I need to change some things in my life.

I also know that I, Emily, am very comfortable coming home after a long couple days and changing into sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt.

*Thank you everyone, even if you don’t read this. And thank you, Blob, for bringing me super healthy vegan food today after you knew that I ate gross hospital not-vegan food. And for having to talk to my mom via text. I’m so sorry. Lastly… thank you Mike for calling 911. I might not be writing this post if you hadn’t.

**This was not suicide and I was evaluated by a psych person at the hospital to make sure I was ok.

***Blob said I looked “fantastic”…sarcastically. I was covered in charcoal and a drunken mess. Go me for being that drunk bitch in an emergency room.

****the vegan police are most definitely after me now, and I’m going to retire into eating nothing but kale, tofu and pumpkin seeds for the next month.