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Struggling
Posted 3 years agoI am in a very bad place mentally.
Since the traumatic experience of having my gallbladder removed in October, my anxiety has taken over and my personality has completely changed.
I am in chronic pain. Before the surgery, I could eat low-fat food. Now, nearly everything hurts.
I now refuse to eat most food due to fear of vomiting, because they were not able to keep me from dry-heaving after the surgery. I used to love to eat. Now if you place a proper meal in front of me, chances are I'll cry. I'm hungry and I'm weak.
I'm convinced I have a brain tumor because I have most of the symptoms.
All of my senses are heightened, and it's painful. Brushing my teeth now makes me want to gag. I hate needing to poop.
I hate going to sleep because of the nightmares. It's not refreshing.
I'm trying desperately to stay out of in-patient care. I have a therapist, but my parents and I are struggling to find me a psychiatrist. All the places we call either say they can't help, or you leave a message and no one calls back.
All we've managed to do is get a virtual appointment with my doctor's assistant to try to beg for a sedative. But the last time we did this, they refused to give me Ativan, which is the only thing that will calm me at all.
Both my parents work, so I have to spend hours by myself, alone and struggling. When I get like this, I lose interest in most everything. I stare off into space, or just walk around aimlessly outside.
I used to love going out, but now I fear it. I fear I will vomit in public, or get shot, be in a car wreck, or catch an illness. My dad was in a crash this year, and I have been near two shootings.
My parents try to help. But typically we end up yelling. They say I need a psychiatrist, but then in the same breath will say "drugs are not the answer," when pretty much all a psychiatrist does is write scripts.
Dad is especially bad. I'm agnostic, but he will try to get me to talk to a priest or watch Joel Olsteen. He tells me how an uncle was "cured" of some unknown illness after doctors failed him by going to a shrine.
I guess I'm looking for any words of advice I haven't heard already.
Since the traumatic experience of having my gallbladder removed in October, my anxiety has taken over and my personality has completely changed.
I am in chronic pain. Before the surgery, I could eat low-fat food. Now, nearly everything hurts.
I now refuse to eat most food due to fear of vomiting, because they were not able to keep me from dry-heaving after the surgery. I used to love to eat. Now if you place a proper meal in front of me, chances are I'll cry. I'm hungry and I'm weak.
I'm convinced I have a brain tumor because I have most of the symptoms.
All of my senses are heightened, and it's painful. Brushing my teeth now makes me want to gag. I hate needing to poop.
I hate going to sleep because of the nightmares. It's not refreshing.
I'm trying desperately to stay out of in-patient care. I have a therapist, but my parents and I are struggling to find me a psychiatrist. All the places we call either say they can't help, or you leave a message and no one calls back.
All we've managed to do is get a virtual appointment with my doctor's assistant to try to beg for a sedative. But the last time we did this, they refused to give me Ativan, which is the only thing that will calm me at all.
Both my parents work, so I have to spend hours by myself, alone and struggling. When I get like this, I lose interest in most everything. I stare off into space, or just walk around aimlessly outside.
I used to love going out, but now I fear it. I fear I will vomit in public, or get shot, be in a car wreck, or catch an illness. My dad was in a crash this year, and I have been near two shootings.
My parents try to help. But typically we end up yelling. They say I need a psychiatrist, but then in the same breath will say "drugs are not the answer," when pretty much all a psychiatrist does is write scripts.
Dad is especially bad. I'm agnostic, but he will try to get me to talk to a priest or watch Joel Olsteen. He tells me how an uncle was "cured" of some unknown illness after doctors failed him by going to a shrine.
I guess I'm looking for any words of advice I haven't heard already.
It's Been a Long, Hot, Hard Minute
Posted 3 years agoMy health has been poor for about five months now. Lots of headaches, lots of stomachaches, shoulder pain now, plenty of doctors and tests, and... anxiety! I found out I'm right on the cusp of prediabetes, broke a tooth eating bacon at a local restaurant and am getting it pulled next week, and am awaiting the results of a home sleep-apnea test.
My gallbladder was the prime suspect for my stomach pain, and a test called a HIDA scan confirmed it. The gallbladder releases the bile that's produced by the liver, which helps to digest fat in the foods we eat. But I have [biliary dyskensia. My gallbladder contracts very poorly. I can't properly digest my food and thus, my stomach hurts.
The classic treatment is to remove the gallbladder. Most of the women in my immediate family on my mom's side have had theirs removed. Even Mom, last year. I have to see a surgeon. And right now, I'm eating a very low-fat diet to try to combat the pain. Hot and cold cereal, canned chicken, egg whites, rice, bread, fruit... These are my staples. I've found frozen Greek-yogurt bars to replace ice cream, and make baked goods with applesauce instead of butter or oil. I'm losing weight, which I need to do, but man, I miss ''real'' food. I miss Chinese.
Remember that anxiety I mentioned? I ended up in the ER with it, and tachycardia, late in July, in the middle of the night. Going to the hospital at 4AM because you're anxious really feels like a low point.
And thanks to that anxiety, I came out to my dad. Or rather, I made my mom do it for me. I would have nightmares all the time about him finding out about my sexuality. All's well on that end, and I've received permission to date (yes I know that sounds weird because I'm an adult, but it's my parents' house), but that's not my immediate concern because, you know, I need to have an organ removed. But I'm reading a book on lesbian dating and relationships and have plenty of talks about it with my therapist.
...I kind of wish I had a better coming out story; with both Mom and Dad I did it in the middle of a crisis...
Having surgery terrifies me. The whole process. I detest the thought of a breathing tube down my throat. I'm scared of waking up in a different room, and of puking afterwards. A few journals back you can read about how I fought tooth and nail over sedation at the oral surgeon, and this isn't just sedation, it's general anesthesia, the real deal.
I don't know how to finish this, so if you made it this far, thanks I guess?...
My gallbladder was the prime suspect for my stomach pain, and a test called a HIDA scan confirmed it. The gallbladder releases the bile that's produced by the liver, which helps to digest fat in the foods we eat. But I have [biliary dyskensia. My gallbladder contracts very poorly. I can't properly digest my food and thus, my stomach hurts.
The classic treatment is to remove the gallbladder. Most of the women in my immediate family on my mom's side have had theirs removed. Even Mom, last year. I have to see a surgeon. And right now, I'm eating a very low-fat diet to try to combat the pain. Hot and cold cereal, canned chicken, egg whites, rice, bread, fruit... These are my staples. I've found frozen Greek-yogurt bars to replace ice cream, and make baked goods with applesauce instead of butter or oil. I'm losing weight, which I need to do, but man, I miss ''real'' food. I miss Chinese.
Remember that anxiety I mentioned? I ended up in the ER with it, and tachycardia, late in July, in the middle of the night. Going to the hospital at 4AM because you're anxious really feels like a low point.
And thanks to that anxiety, I came out to my dad. Or rather, I made my mom do it for me. I would have nightmares all the time about him finding out about my sexuality. All's well on that end, and I've received permission to date (yes I know that sounds weird because I'm an adult, but it's my parents' house), but that's not my immediate concern because, you know, I need to have an organ removed. But I'm reading a book on lesbian dating and relationships and have plenty of talks about it with my therapist.
...I kind of wish I had a better coming out story; with both Mom and Dad I did it in the middle of a crisis...
Having surgery terrifies me. The whole process. I detest the thought of a breathing tube down my throat. I'm scared of waking up in a different room, and of puking afterwards. A few journals back you can read about how I fought tooth and nail over sedation at the oral surgeon, and this isn't just sedation, it's general anesthesia, the real deal.
I don't know how to finish this, so if you made it this far, thanks I guess?...
No Place I Hate More...
Posted 3 years ago...Than the gynecologist.
And I'm going tomorrow.
(If talk of the genitals bothers you, you might want to skip reading this journal.)
I haven't gone in seven years. I used to be forced to go because unless I was on birth control I wouldn't have a period. No longer needing it, I no longer needed to see a gynecologist.
But I've been facing stomach pain (most likely culprit: a gallbladder that's already known to work poorly), and am waiting to see a gastroenterologist. And I got paranoid about ovarian cancer.
My first-ever visit to the gynecologist as a teenager was bad, and set the stage for every visit to come. Ever since that first trip, I've absolutely hated it. For those without female body parts and unaware of what visiting such a doctor entails, they stick metal and their fingers up your vagina, and feel your breasts. Apparently for some a ''pelvic exam'' is only uncomfortable, but for me it's downright painful.
On top of being painful, I find the whole process violating and dehumanizing. You're questioned about your sex life, and as someone who's never been sexually active, I honestly don't know if they believe me. Even if I was, it would be with women and I thus have no need for family planning.
I just want to get in there, be told ''you're fine'', get the hell out, and not go again for years.
And I'm going tomorrow.
(If talk of the genitals bothers you, you might want to skip reading this journal.)
I haven't gone in seven years. I used to be forced to go because unless I was on birth control I wouldn't have a period. No longer needing it, I no longer needed to see a gynecologist.
But I've been facing stomach pain (most likely culprit: a gallbladder that's already known to work poorly), and am waiting to see a gastroenterologist. And I got paranoid about ovarian cancer.
My first-ever visit to the gynecologist as a teenager was bad, and set the stage for every visit to come. Ever since that first trip, I've absolutely hated it. For those without female body parts and unaware of what visiting such a doctor entails, they stick metal and their fingers up your vagina, and feel your breasts. Apparently for some a ''pelvic exam'' is only uncomfortable, but for me it's downright painful.
On top of being painful, I find the whole process violating and dehumanizing. You're questioned about your sex life, and as someone who's never been sexually active, I honestly don't know if they believe me. Even if I was, it would be with women and I thus have no need for family planning.
I just want to get in there, be told ''you're fine'', get the hell out, and not go again for years.
Unsettling Times
Posted 3 years agoMy dad and I went out to play mini golf on Saturday, then he wanted to go to a nearby auto-parts store. As we were pulling up, so were the police. We'd just missed a shoot-out in front of the store.
Yesterday Dad was involved in a three-car wreck when he was t-boned at an intersection, with his truck ending up on its side. He's OK but can't hear out of one ear where the air bag hit him.
Needless to say I've been left feeling little in a bad way: insecure. Everything in the world is just so bad right now - the constant shootings, war, inflation - and it's hard to avoid hearing about it when Dad constantly wants to watch the news. Which is more often than before, because he injured his arm in March, had surgery, and is currently not working. And he's a very hard person to deal with, so you can imagine the last several months haven't been easy on me to begin with.
Yesterday Dad was involved in a three-car wreck when he was t-boned at an intersection, with his truck ending up on its side. He's OK but can't hear out of one ear where the air bag hit him.
Needless to say I've been left feeling little in a bad way: insecure. Everything in the world is just so bad right now - the constant shootings, war, inflation - and it's hard to avoid hearing about it when Dad constantly wants to watch the news. Which is more often than before, because he injured his arm in March, had surgery, and is currently not working. And he's a very hard person to deal with, so you can imagine the last several months haven't been easy on me to begin with.
The Case of the Mysteriously-Wet Diaper
Posted 3 years agoThis actually happened about three weeks ago, but...
I woke up during the night in a wet diaper, and I'm not 100% sure I was awake or asleep when I peed in it. I actually took it off to check, despite the fact that it was sagging and I could smell it.
Having never wet the bed, and being rather envious of those who do/did, this was a pretty big deal, expect that I don't know if it was a genuine accident. I vaguely remember peeing, and thinking I should slow down the flow, but there's a chance I was only dreaming.
Of course I would like it to happen again, and it be a real accident, but that hasn't materialized...
I woke up during the night in a wet diaper, and I'm not 100% sure I was awake or asleep when I peed in it. I actually took it off to check, despite the fact that it was sagging and I could smell it.
Having never wet the bed, and being rather envious of those who do/did, this was a pretty big deal, expect that I don't know if it was a genuine accident. I vaguely remember peeing, and thinking I should slow down the flow, but there's a chance I was only dreaming.
Of course I would like it to happen again, and it be a real accident, but that hasn't materialized...
My Dental Adventure
Posted 3 years agoToday I went to the oral surgeon. Months ago, after avoiding it because of anxiety and Medicaid issues, I finally saw a dentist because I was in pain. He said I needed two molars pulled (as I didn't want to bother with root canals and getting silver crowns as that's all Medicaid pays for), and my partially-erupted, partially-impacted wisdom tooth that I'd been avoiding for so long really needed to finally come out.
I was slated to get IV sedation for this, but I was PETRIFIED. Like, telling my parents my final wishes and how to sell my possessions petrified. I've had mild sedation before, but never gone under general anesthesia or otherwise ''put to sleep.'' I need to feel in control of my body or I freak.
So I get there and they put oxygen on me (never had that before and it smelled weird) and hook me up to the monitor that makes me nervous because of all the beeping. I didn't realize they'd have to lift up my shirt to put on the electrode thing and I couldn't be sure if my diaper was showing (I'm very nearly 24/7). I tell the surgeon about all my fears and he asks if I want to do this awake. I agree, but they put this plastic block in my mouth to give me the novocaine that makes me want to choke, and expect me to keep it in my mouth the whole procedure. I'm crying, literally crying for my mom like a real toddler. They let her come in and she convinces me to get the sedative (and tells me no, my diaper's not showing. Yes, she knows.)
They hook me back up, put in the IV, and give the medicine. I hear some people talking, and all of sudden it's time to go home! I felt absolutely nothing.
So the sedative isn't quite as scary as I thought it would be, though I guess your experience can vary each time. I received stitches for the first time, although at the moment I'm a bit miffed that I can't really see them because all I see is blood.
I was slated to get IV sedation for this, but I was PETRIFIED. Like, telling my parents my final wishes and how to sell my possessions petrified. I've had mild sedation before, but never gone under general anesthesia or otherwise ''put to sleep.'' I need to feel in control of my body or I freak.
So I get there and they put oxygen on me (never had that before and it smelled weird) and hook me up to the monitor that makes me nervous because of all the beeping. I didn't realize they'd have to lift up my shirt to put on the electrode thing and I couldn't be sure if my diaper was showing (I'm very nearly 24/7). I tell the surgeon about all my fears and he asks if I want to do this awake. I agree, but they put this plastic block in my mouth to give me the novocaine that makes me want to choke, and expect me to keep it in my mouth the whole procedure. I'm crying, literally crying for my mom like a real toddler. They let her come in and she convinces me to get the sedative (and tells me no, my diaper's not showing. Yes, she knows.)
They hook me back up, put in the IV, and give the medicine. I hear some people talking, and all of sudden it's time to go home! I felt absolutely nothing.
So the sedative isn't quite as scary as I thought it would be, though I guess your experience can vary each time. I received stitches for the first time, although at the moment I'm a bit miffed that I can't really see them because all I see is blood.
I Had to Say Goodbye
Posted 4 years agoMy beautiful boy, my best friend, Buddy - my cockatiel - died last Tuesday, August 31.
Buddy was 25 - very old - although he was a rescue and I only knew him for four of those years. He was diagnosed with gout in June and given a few weeks to live; however, he made it almost three months, with me medicating him and trying to keep him comfortable.
He was lethargic the day before and into Tuesday, and after a day of cuddling and eating popcorn, his favorite snack, he entered his next life as I held him in my hands.
It was devastating despite not being totally unexpected, and taking him to the pet crematory was about the hardest thing I ever had to do.
He was truly my best friend, and he made me so happy.
Buddy was 25 - very old - although he was a rescue and I only knew him for four of those years. He was diagnosed with gout in June and given a few weeks to live; however, he made it almost three months, with me medicating him and trying to keep him comfortable.
He was lethargic the day before and into Tuesday, and after a day of cuddling and eating popcorn, his favorite snack, he entered his next life as I held him in my hands.
It was devastating despite not being totally unexpected, and taking him to the pet crematory was about the hardest thing I ever had to do.
He was truly my best friend, and he made me so happy.
When Kids are Perceptive
Posted 4 years agoFor reference: I'm biologically female but my little side (which is a huge aspect of my personality) is male.
Went to a cousin's sixth birthday party yesterday. He asked me, "Are you a girl?"
"Yeah."
"No, you're a boy." Way to trigger my dysphoria, kid.
But I mean he was also calling me Pikachu butt among other things, so I dunno.
Although my current therapist, at my very first session, also asked if I identified as a girl or a boy so I had to explain my baby side to her sooner than I was planning.
Went to a cousin's sixth birthday party yesterday. He asked me, "Are you a girl?"
"Yeah."
"No, you're a boy." Way to trigger my dysphoria, kid.
But I mean he was also calling me Pikachu butt among other things, so I dunno.
Although my current therapist, at my very first session, also asked if I identified as a girl or a boy so I had to explain my baby side to her sooner than I was planning.
Between a Rock and a Hard Place: Nearly Busted with Diape...
Posted 4 years ago...But they haven't been pinned on me.
For background: I live at home because of autism and generalized anxiety disorder. I receive SSI (disability benefits) and am on a waiting list for a place of my own in the projects with the housing authority. I pay my father $100 a month in rent.
My mom knows about the diapers and is cool with it. My father does not. (Nor does he know that I'm gay, but that's a story for another time.)
My father is a toxic person. He's not abusive in the physical sense, but he would probably be considered emotionally so. He's bitchy, controlling, bigoted, and has the mindset of someone from decades ago. For example, he hates my mom's short hair and when she gets it cut. The last time I asked my mom to cut my hair in front of him, he asked me, ''What's wrong with your hair?'' His reasoning is that ''Women should have long hair because it's a woman thing, and men should have short hair because it's a men thing.'' He also doesn't like the idea of me moving out - he doesn't think I'm capable of living alone and says my mom and I have to take care of each other.
I was putting my diapers in doubled-up white trash bags (the same kind used in the kitchen), then depositing that in the kitchen can. But sometimes my dad would complain and question about why the bags were so heavy. Eventually I switched to black bags, and started taking them straight to the can outside. I do not drive, so can't really take them somewhere else to throw away.
Well apparently he noticed a black bag in the can tonight. I guess I didn't think he'd be nosy enough to open a garbage bag. But I guess I underestimated him. This is the man, after all, who recently noticed one of my Stephen King novels and asked ''What's that book you're reading?'' and ''What's it about?'' My mom also has books laying around, but he doesn't question her.
I was in the living room playing my Switch when he came in and kind of casually asked about a bag of dirty diapers in the trash can. I gave my typical murmur for ''I don't know.'' He then went to question my mom, who took one for the team and denied knowing anything. As far as I know, he thinks perhaps my incontinent aunt was here and and threw out some trash.
I made myself a rum and Coke. It didn't help much.
I suppose I feel... violated. I mean, I had my trash investigated. What's next, checking out my bathroom can? Raiding my room? Opening my mail?
This is one more big stressor on top of an already large pile. My mom recently recovered from Covid and I'm still in quarantine until Sunday. (Dad refuses to quarantine.) Now she's sick again with a stomach bug. I haven't been able to go swimming, which is therapeutic for me. If I leave the house/yard it's to go for walk or a ride in the car but stay in it.
Diapers are a part of my stress relief. They're an emotional need and something I can't really do without. I'm in them nearly 24/7. I try to be as discreet as possible about the whole thing. But I'm shaken up. One of my two big things I'm hiding from my father (the other being my sexual orientation) has almost spilled out and well, I'm not sure how I can protect it any better.
For background: I live at home because of autism and generalized anxiety disorder. I receive SSI (disability benefits) and am on a waiting list for a place of my own in the projects with the housing authority. I pay my father $100 a month in rent.
My mom knows about the diapers and is cool with it. My father does not. (Nor does he know that I'm gay, but that's a story for another time.)
My father is a toxic person. He's not abusive in the physical sense, but he would probably be considered emotionally so. He's bitchy, controlling, bigoted, and has the mindset of someone from decades ago. For example, he hates my mom's short hair and when she gets it cut. The last time I asked my mom to cut my hair in front of him, he asked me, ''What's wrong with your hair?'' His reasoning is that ''Women should have long hair because it's a woman thing, and men should have short hair because it's a men thing.'' He also doesn't like the idea of me moving out - he doesn't think I'm capable of living alone and says my mom and I have to take care of each other.
I was putting my diapers in doubled-up white trash bags (the same kind used in the kitchen), then depositing that in the kitchen can. But sometimes my dad would complain and question about why the bags were so heavy. Eventually I switched to black bags, and started taking them straight to the can outside. I do not drive, so can't really take them somewhere else to throw away.
Well apparently he noticed a black bag in the can tonight. I guess I didn't think he'd be nosy enough to open a garbage bag. But I guess I underestimated him. This is the man, after all, who recently noticed one of my Stephen King novels and asked ''What's that book you're reading?'' and ''What's it about?'' My mom also has books laying around, but he doesn't question her.
I was in the living room playing my Switch when he came in and kind of casually asked about a bag of dirty diapers in the trash can. I gave my typical murmur for ''I don't know.'' He then went to question my mom, who took one for the team and denied knowing anything. As far as I know, he thinks perhaps my incontinent aunt was here and and threw out some trash.
I made myself a rum and Coke. It didn't help much.
I suppose I feel... violated. I mean, I had my trash investigated. What's next, checking out my bathroom can? Raiding my room? Opening my mail?
This is one more big stressor on top of an already large pile. My mom recently recovered from Covid and I'm still in quarantine until Sunday. (Dad refuses to quarantine.) Now she's sick again with a stomach bug. I haven't been able to go swimming, which is therapeutic for me. If I leave the house/yard it's to go for walk or a ride in the car but stay in it.
Diapers are a part of my stress relief. They're an emotional need and something I can't really do without. I'm in them nearly 24/7. I try to be as discreet as possible about the whole thing. But I'm shaken up. One of my two big things I'm hiding from my father (the other being my sexual orientation) has almost spilled out and well, I'm not sure how I can protect it any better.
''How Old" Meme
Posted 5 years agoStolen from from NazzNikoNanuke and Pukopop 🌈Lost your virginity? haven't
🌈 Lost someone close to you? 6 I guess
🌈 Consumed alcohol? 14
🌈 Received a kiss? never
🌈 Went to the hospital? Never been admitted, went to ER as a baby after my mom accidentally hit me in the head with a pear
🌈 Had a broken heart? 22
🌈 Lost a pet? 4? Not sure on this one
🌈 Got arrested? never
🌈 Broke a bone? 12
🌈 Got your first job? 20
🌈 Got a boyfriend or girlfriend? never
🌈 Went to a concert? 12
🌈 Met someone famous? 19
🌈 Got in a car wreck? never been in one that caused actual damage
🌈 Dyed your hair? 13?
🌈 Flew on an airplane? 26
🌈 Went to another state? as a baby
🌈 Went across the country? 26, Pennsylvania to Florida
🌈 Went to another country? never
🌈 Got a tattoo? 23
🌈 Had a piercing? ears pierced as baby
🌈 Smoked pot? never
🌈 Smoked a cigarette? never
🌈 Went to Disneyland or Disney World? 26/27 (went over my birthday to Disney World)
🌈 Had a long-term relationship? never
🌈 Dated somebody of another race? never
🌈 Passed out from drinking? never
🌈 Became a furry? 20
🌈 Went to your first non-business/work related convention? if an indoor car show counts, maybe 16?
🌈 Lost someone close to you? 6 I guess
🌈 Consumed alcohol? 14
🌈 Received a kiss? never
🌈 Went to the hospital? Never been admitted, went to ER as a baby after my mom accidentally hit me in the head with a pear
🌈 Had a broken heart? 22
🌈 Lost a pet? 4? Not sure on this one
🌈 Got arrested? never
🌈 Broke a bone? 12
🌈 Got your first job? 20
🌈 Got a boyfriend or girlfriend? never
🌈 Went to a concert? 12
🌈 Met someone famous? 19
🌈 Got in a car wreck? never been in one that caused actual damage
🌈 Dyed your hair? 13?
🌈 Flew on an airplane? 26
🌈 Went to another state? as a baby
🌈 Went across the country? 26, Pennsylvania to Florida
🌈 Went to another country? never
🌈 Got a tattoo? 23
🌈 Had a piercing? ears pierced as baby
🌈 Smoked pot? never
🌈 Smoked a cigarette? never
🌈 Went to Disneyland or Disney World? 26/27 (went over my birthday to Disney World)
🌈 Had a long-term relationship? never
🌈 Dated somebody of another race? never
🌈 Passed out from drinking? never
🌈 Became a furry? 20
🌈 Went to your first non-business/work related convention? if an indoor car show counts, maybe 16?
