A Little Reminder


When I get tired in class, there are two things I do.

  1. Burrow my head in my sweater or jacket and nod off.
  2. Start cussing like a sailor in my notes.

For example, this morning in math I was not excited to spend three hours talking about shit I’ve already done before. As you probably already know, I’m in Calculus. So I’m not a genius here; still stuck in the lower mathematics and honestly, with all the other types of classes I have to take, I’m okay with that.

In my defense, my social anxiety has kept me back from a lot of things and one of those things has been excelling in math. But we won’t talk about why. We’ll, instead, give an excerpt from my notes from this morning:

“For fuck sake, I’m tired! 

Ex:/ Find the fucking surface area generated when this bullshit: x=1 + 2y^2, limits from 1-2, is fucking flipped around like a ballerina on crack about the x-axis. Fuck me. Shit. 

General fucking formula: 2piydS

Fucking Arc shit: sqrt 1+[F'(x)]^2 dx, sqrt 1+[F'(x)]^2 dy” 

Don’t believe that’s what I write? Well, here you go:


That’s what happens when you work all weekend, get four hours of sleep, and don’t feel like dealing with this shit.

If I had never seen calc 2 in my life before like some of the students in my class who often walk out of the class with this expression:


than I probably would have taken much more serious notes. But let’s be honest here folks, this shit isn’t rocket science. If you get the theory of it, if you understand the steps, if you can picture graphs in your head, if you can see past the non-existent existence of infinity, and you can plug into the formulas with a little creativity, than you should be good.

I still remember the second week of class when we started tackling real integration, not the pussy shit they cover in first semester calculus. The faces of the newer students, the arrogance they had coming into the class, the whole “I’m smarter than my friends” attitude, washed down the drain real quick. As soon as you shove integration by parts and partial fractions in their face, they all crumble. They should have read ahead in the book like I had before I took my first calc 2 class.

I would have been finished with the calc series by now, and at least onto . . . whatever the hell comes next. But I kept having to drop the classes. The first time I took calc 1, I missed too many classes (family issues, depression, anxiety e.t.c). The second time I passed. The first time I took calc 2 I had to drop because of family issues, depression, anxiety, e.t.c. See a pattern yet? So here I am, taking this bullshit for the second time again.


If only my mental health affected me at home, in the closed doors and shut windows of my room. If only they didn’t interfere with my physics classes, with my math classes, with what professors I take and which ones I avoid, with who I talk to and who I don’t, with how to get a reference letters, with my job, with communication in general.

If only I could control which symptoms shown themselves when. Oh how sweet life would be.

But I’m thankful for many things.

I’m thankful I have the opportunity to go to school at all, whether it be university or junior.

I’m thankful I’m physically pretty healthy, healthy enough to push my way through my mental blocks and try to live my life as well as possible.

I’m thankful for my boyfriend. He can put up with all my issues and non-verbalness and that he’s been able to become more understanding as time as passed; we’ll hit our two year anniversary this July. I consider myself pretty lucky to have someone like him, he’s a rarity these days.

We tried making gelatin soda the other night, while baking a cake. The cake came out good. The gelatin soda . . .

This Isn’t Ours. We Couldn’t Hope For Anything Even Close To This

I was almost on the floor rolling in laughter. We followed a video off of YouTube but there was a disconnect in the video between what you’re supposed to do with the gelatin and how it should react. We ended up with stank ass non-flavored gelatin melted hard onto the microwave plate, on the counter top, in the sink, and clumped on our hands. Be wary of YouTube instructional videos, you guys, seriously. 

I’m thankful for my brain, as “crazy” as that sounds. I don’t know what I’d do without it. It torments me and cradles me and entertains me and if I was anyone other than who I am I’d probably be disgusted with myself.

I’m thankful for a lot of things, in fact. I complain a lot and sometimes I get knocked down but I’ve never once laid on the floor and accepted my fate. I’ve learned not to fight my depression when it overtakes me, I’ve learned to work with it and around it and if that means taking a few steps backwards than by all means I go with the flow.

acceptanceI’ve learned not to completely hate my anxiety, I’ve learned there are advantages and I accept them and when they give me trouble and I beat myself up over it, I go through the motions so I can look back on it and analyze it and tell myself: wow, there, there, and there you were exaggerating, do you see that?

When I struggle with jealousy over watching non-mentally-conflicted people get on with their lives and be happy and maybe stressed out occasionally I remind myself that me and that person are not the same people. I remind myself that I can be just as successful as them as long as I’m happy with who I am and what I’m doing. I remind myself there’s no point in focusing on someone else’s life. It’s their life. How do their successes and failures concern me?

As much as physicists and biologists would like it to be true, it is not true that we’ll ever learn everything there is to learn about life and our existence. For that reason, I’d say don’t take anything for granted, not even your worst moments. Because once it’s over, you don’t know what’s next. Maybe nothing.


Think about how weird it would be to never see the clouds or feel the sun or hear the birds chirp? What about seeing the face of your significant other or hearing your child’s laughter? How weird would it be to never wake up again? Don’t think about how it would feel to not have any problems, think about how weird it would feel to not have anything at all. 

Those of us who have tendency towards suicidal thoughts . . . we often get lost in them. And it can be hard to remember the little things. The things that don’t necessarily bring us out of our depression or bring us unlimited happiness, but the little things that make up daily life, the things we don’t always pay so much attention to.

Sometimes they’re worth more than anything. 

What does this have to do with math? Absolutely nothing.


Genuine Motives To The Rescue


Let’s talk.


There is a very reasonable, very practical, very intelligent reason why I wish to speak with you all.

A very, very intelligent reason:

I just got off work and don’t feel like doing homework.


Great reason, right? Just agree with me, you’ll live longer.

Anyway, the first thing I do when I get out of work beside thank all the Gods and Cosmic Minds for letting me get out of that hell hole without having something mentally damaging happen is grab my phone.

I don’t check Twitter often, but when I do it’s because I’m bored and letting my car warm up. There was a bunch of stuff in my feed talking about the joke Bernie Sanders made at the democratic debate tonight. That I missed. Because I was too busy being a good little slave.

Just for the record, I’m neither against or for any parties of any political affiliation, I just point out the facts as each side presents them. I could care less to pledge my allegiance and loyalty to anything. 

But Sanders decided it would be a good idea to crack a joke at his opposing team (The Republicans) by saying if he was elected president, he’d make sure a lot of money would go towards mental health. He added that the republicans were the reason why we need to invest in mental health.

My first reaction:


Because the man isn’t lying. Come on now. Get off your high horse for a second and really, really fucking think about this. 

Trump: the epitome of an egoist. He’s incapable of considering the consequences of his actions/words, and if he does consider them he’s blatantly ignoring that part of his conscience. He has an insatiable need for attention to be on him and he’ll open his mouth to anything for that cause. Are you telling me we don’t have disorders listed in the DSM that are specified towards those who say/do outrageous things for the sake of attention? Whether he’s a spoiled fucking sewer rat with balls the size of peanuts and a brain to match doesn’t matter.

The KKK endorsed him and people outraged over the fact that he didn’t reject them. Why the hell would he? He wants attention, popularity, and endorsements. It doesn’t matter by who, he just wants the numbers and the attention.


Carson: Another attention seeker for the sake of being watched. I hear so much about these two candidates I honestly have no clue who else is running on the republican side. And they wanted it that way. They wanted to run the show and that’s what they’re doing; everyone is eating of their hand, even me–I’m talking about them. Everyone is.

When I step out of my house, the whisper of someone saying Trumps name slaps me across the face and the whisper of someone saying Carson’s name kicks me in the shin. I mean, come on people, stop this insanity. You should be thanking these two for showing you how half-assed our political system is. I can sum it up in two lines:

“Oh, you have money? Yes, yes, you run, you run good, be good for country! You . . . you have brain? You go . . . you go in dirt or . . .  or something, fuck off.”

Cut The Shit, Society

Are you telling me their self-centered, egotistical, histrionic, narcissistic, whatever kind of behavior you want to label it as, isn’t listed somewhere in some psychology textbook as a mental health issue? We have a lot of them and they sure like to get thrown around a lot, so why don’t we toss some on the elite groups while we’re at it?

And when I say Elite group, for the love of God I do not mean Charlie Sheen. 


The main argument against Sanders’ comment was that he’s perpetuating stigma and  portraying those with mental disorders as dangerous.

I don’t know where everyone is getting the dangerous aspect. I felt more like he was calling us idiots rather than dangerous. Carson and Trump and the rest of the morons aren’t a threat to anyone except themselves. Stupidity can explode your mind, did you know that?

Give a personality profile or an MMPI2 or whatever you like to test people with and see how many different “disordered” people you could find in C.E.O positions. And I’m not talking depression, I’m talking Antisocial Personality Disorder. Because there’s a lot of them.

So the problem here isn’t necessarily that Sanders insulted half of the population on Earth. The problem is that we see mental health patients as lower members of society. We see them as low enough to use the entirety of the population as an insult towards stupid people.

bandwagonSo before everyone jumps on the “WTF Sanders” bandwagon, take a step back and look at yourself. Even I’m guilty of having called someone or something ADD or OCD.

Because we’ve attached these bad connotations to mental disorders in general, they get used improperly and inappropriately. Obviously calling someone who keeps their house clean “OCD” doesn’t portray the actual struggles of OCD.

And because we, those of us with mental disorders, have gotten so horribly used to having a negative connotation behind our disorders, we start stigmatizing ourselves. We call ourselves sick and ill and separate ourselves from the rest of the population.

So if people in the spotlight can put us down, and if we put ourselves down . . . how can anyone be confused on why mental health care hasn’t been paid attention to? On why people still use the terms “crazy” and “psychotic” to describe simple things?

If they aren’t going to lift you up, and you aren’t going to lift you up then you better get used to the fucking pits of hell because no one else is going to come to your rescue. 


Yes, I struggle. Yes, I’ve done this, I’ve done that, I have depression, I have anxiety disorders, I have insomnia and attention deficits. I’m paranoid (I left my drink in the fridge at work and refused to drink out of it the next day because I’m fairly certain the water wasn’t left at the level I left it at and someone poisoned the fuck out of it) and I have harmless hallucinations (spiders on the door that apparently my mother didn’t see, and I always see the clock as a different time than it is. Don’t trust me with the time. I thought it was 7:11 when it was 6:40. I saw 7:11. Twice. Maybe that’s a code. Guys were installing more cameras today and messing around with the computers, don’t get me started.), self-harm, suicide, yada-fucking-yada, you all know this already! You’ve experienced it one way or another yourself.

But I’ve never once called myself sick. I’m not going to accept a label someone who has never experienced what I have decided to stick on me.

While it’s all well and nice to point out the bullshit society says about us, like Sander’s joke, it’s better that we focus on pumping up our own self-esteem about what we struggle with. How are we supposed to assert ourselves if we’re not even confident and consistent in how we lash back at them?

I’ll run in 2020 against Kanye. Don’t worry, I’ll slice the military industrial complex, defile the army’s budget, and send it into community services. Then I’ll rule the world.

Oh shit. Ignore that last part.

My motives are totally genuine, you guys. Totally.