I just took the time to read through all the comments on all my posts so far. It blows my mind, all the comments and stories that 'Anonymous' writers leave, because these are people I don't personally know, and yet they are reading what I write. There's some magic in that. A really warm magic.
Anyways, because I do not receive notifications when someone has posted a comment, like it happens on Facebook, I wanted to share my personal email address, and invite anyone who has any questions, or stories to share, or advice to ask for, or just someone to vent to, to please send me a note..
lemmonade2000@hotmail.com
And thank you again to anyone and everyone who's ever cared enough to read. Really though.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
6:10am
I've come to the conclusion that my brain and my body are still scared of bed time.
I haven't gone to sleep yet. I got home before midnight and posted Vegas pictures, chatted with dad, did my nails, and watched the entire first season of Ringer. Even now, I'm forcing myself to brush my teeth and get ready for bed. It's not the sleep I'm particularly scared of though, because lord knows I'm a superb napper. It's bed time, at night time.
I used to have the worst attacks in the middle of the night, waking me up to spend the rest of the night on the bathroom floor, or looking the same episode of Greys. I don't know why, but everything feels worse at night. Is that just me? Colds get stuffier, flues get more nauseous, period pains get stronger. And panic attacks get scarier. Well, they used to. Knock on wood, I haven't actually endured a nocturnal attack in..a long ass time, come to think of it. And yet, when it gets dark, and time comes to go to sleep alone, my brain figures, 'Why risk it?'
I know it has a lot to do with the 'alone' part. I go to sleep much easier when someone is in the same bed. I just feel safer. I live at home still, and I know that my dad is a mere 5 steps away, but that can seem SO much further then the very next pillow. During my most recent attacks, I wouldn't even wake my boyfriend up for help, when it was happening. Luckily, he's a very deep sleeper! But I felt safer, trying to catch my breath, if he was sleeping next to me.
Again, I'm fine taking a nap alone, I almost sometimes prefer it, so I can really sprawl! But at 11:30, when my best friend is driving me back home, my chest gets a little tighter, and a little sad, knowing that I'll be sleeping alone tonight.
Why does night time make things worse? Night time is romantic! Night time is stars! But there is something about the sun getting ready to come back up, and the promise of everyone else waking up again soon, that makes it easier to finally get 'a good nights rest'.
I haven't gone to sleep yet. I got home before midnight and posted Vegas pictures, chatted with dad, did my nails, and watched the entire first season of Ringer. Even now, I'm forcing myself to brush my teeth and get ready for bed. It's not the sleep I'm particularly scared of though, because lord knows I'm a superb napper. It's bed time, at night time.
I used to have the worst attacks in the middle of the night, waking me up to spend the rest of the night on the bathroom floor, or looking the same episode of Greys. I don't know why, but everything feels worse at night. Is that just me? Colds get stuffier, flues get more nauseous, period pains get stronger. And panic attacks get scarier. Well, they used to. Knock on wood, I haven't actually endured a nocturnal attack in..a long ass time, come to think of it. And yet, when it gets dark, and time comes to go to sleep alone, my brain figures, 'Why risk it?'
I know it has a lot to do with the 'alone' part. I go to sleep much easier when someone is in the same bed. I just feel safer. I live at home still, and I know that my dad is a mere 5 steps away, but that can seem SO much further then the very next pillow. During my most recent attacks, I wouldn't even wake my boyfriend up for help, when it was happening. Luckily, he's a very deep sleeper! But I felt safer, trying to catch my breath, if he was sleeping next to me.
Again, I'm fine taking a nap alone, I almost sometimes prefer it, so I can really sprawl! But at 11:30, when my best friend is driving me back home, my chest gets a little tighter, and a little sad, knowing that I'll be sleeping alone tonight.
Why does night time make things worse? Night time is romantic! Night time is stars! But there is something about the sun getting ready to come back up, and the promise of everyone else waking up again soon, that makes it easier to finally get 'a good nights rest'.
#lessonearnedinvegas
1. I owe my mother and father big time, for their superb gene pool.
For three nights we VIP partied, and enjoyed free bottle service (I may not drink, but it still makes me feel like a baller), all thanks to how rather attractive we are. Surely, looks wont get you everywhere, but they will get you a damn good time.
2. Don't ask a crazy lady for $5.
I can honestly say that I dont really have any regrets in my life, which is impressive after nearly 26 years. My last night in Vegas, changed that!
After all the dancing, all the shinanigans in The Sugar Factory, and all the pictures taken with lesbians, we got in a cab to go back to our own hotel. As luck would have it, we picked the only can in Vegas that didn't accept Visa. You can buy McDonalds, wifi, poker chips, a pack of gum or a single tampon in a bathroom vending machine with Visa in Vegas! But not our cab. We had $10 and the fare was $15. The closest bank machine in our lobby was 10 minutes away from the doors, and the driver was holding my sister hostage, so I decided to ask someone to borrow $5 for a minute.
Continuing on my lucky streak, the first lady with cash (clearly we weren't the only ones depending on credit cards), was a raging drunk, escaped from a mental institution. At first she was more then happy to just GIVE me the money, just dandy! Two minutes later, she's following us through the lobby, CHIRPING us for not being able to afford our own cab ride! She went on and on about how when she was our age (did I mention she was 58?) she was employed and educated, and she had a family that she supported, and she was way better looking then we were!
Picture your mother, add 45 years of nicotine damage, and 4 sheets to the wind. Then picture her telling your father (who's stone sober), 'Take my purse! You're going to need the cash to bail me out! I'm going to jail to tonight!' and then threatening to follow two twenty-something girls up to their room! Then picture her taking all the cash out of he wallet, to show off how much smarter she is then everyone else!
I had every intention of giving her the damn $5 back (a cash advance from a Visa required the use of a bank machine AND a teller on the casino floor AND a fingerprint), until she decide to share, 'I can't wait to tell my friends what a BALL I had paying for a cab for two WHORES.' I draw the line at whores. That's when it's time to go alert security, and get a private escort to our elevator. With the $5 back in my wallet.
What happens in Vegas not only needs to stay there, it needs to be forcibly admitted into rehab.
3. I can do it!
Almost 4 years ago I stayed in Vegas for a few nights, and of those few nights, only half of one was spent outside of my hotel room. That's how tight a hold my anxiety had on me. This time, I swore I'd make the time off, and away, worth it. So not only did I dress up and go out every night, I kept myself out, still smiling, until at least 3am. Imagine that! And all while remaining completely sober! Lol.
I can also board, and remain seated on a plane for 5 hours, without getting sick and dying due to major heart palpitations!
In the beginning, coping with a panic disorder involves a lot of running away, and hiding. But when you have no idea where you are in a giant city, no idea where all the exits in a club are, there is no running away. And when you're stuck in a giant chunk of metal one million feet above ground, there really isn't anywhere to hide. All you can do is be brave, and face it, stick it out. And I did! I can do that!
4. As enjoyable as it is to have an excuse to dress way up, and dance for hours (for free!), I'm clearly not a Vegas kind of girl.
Lol, I'm just a lame, elderly lady at heart! I think I prefer being at home watching a movie, or walking around a new city, vs. forcing myself to impress strangers more then once a week (or once every two weeks?). It may have something to do with the face that I'm sober in a drunk city, and already in an in-love relationship in a slutty city..but I like it that way!
The flash, and the smut is fun for a day or two, but I'd far rather spend a week in New York (just as busy, but less in-your-face horny), or Myrtle Beach in a family oriented resort.
5. I want to own, and operate a pop-up wedding chapel!
There was a temporary chapel in one of the hotels on the strip with a little stage, seating for maybe 20 guests, iPads to read vows off of, champagne and cake pops provided, and all of surrounded by completely trendy, non-60's cheesy decor!
Seeing as it was Vegas, you were allowed to acquire a 24hr fake marriage to someone of the same sex, opposite sex, same last name, your pet turtle, or a toaster if you want ($80 is a perfectly reasonable amount to spend on an utterly romantic 15 minutes in the spotlight with your favorite blender!), or you can spontaneously marry the love of your life. Plug your own iPod in for the perfect soundtrack, kiss I Do in front of the giant store front window/ everyone on Las Vegas Blvd, and take home a page from the giant guest book signed by all the people shopping for goofy wedding-themed souvenirs while you were getting hitched 5ft away! I think it's the most brilliant idea!
Or what if a big RV was transformed into a trendy, classy PORTABLE wedding chapel?! I wana.
6. You CAN blister over top of last night's blisters.
7. Even a princess gets dark bags under her eyes, after too many nights of too little sleep!
(Me: Ativan-free, sober, and still smokin)
Monday, January 16, 2012
Princess Georgia Has A Crush
Compared to Snookie and JWoww and other guidettes, you probably wouldn't picture a princess next to a fist pumping kid from the Shore. But this week's episode has new little smitten.
In an odd break from all the smushing, and pranking, and tanning and being completely shit-faced, Vinny decided he needed to leave the Shore, and get a hold of his anxiety again.
That hour on Thursday nights is never anything but mindless, hilarious entertainment, but I found myself in awe this time. While the rest of the house went out for the night, Vinny confessed to Pauly that he'd been diagnosed with clinical anxiety a while ago, and that it wasn't safe to keep trying to ignore it. And that ladies and gents, is a real man.
It was a little surreal to hear someone, someone famous who seemed to lead an ideal life, describe feeling the exact way I've felt. If you've ever googled anxiety, or been lucky enough to spend time with a therapist, you know that you're not the only one who's suffering (around 19 million are diagnosed in the States every year), but it makes sub a difference to hear someone else say it all out loud.
And? He stopped drinking! He wasn't a raging alcoholic by any means, but when everyone else that you live with insists on being wasted at some point each day..when that's the cool, easy thing to do, when you're basically getting paid to party..it's not easy to say no. I liked that they pointed that out. Makes sober kids like me feel a little less un-cool.
You don't have to know someone personally, to be proud of them. I'm proud of him! And inspired. To know that he's been dealing with this the entire time that he's been this happy, hilarious character on TV, gives me hope. And fits right in with my fearless outlook on 2012! I'll never be immune to anxiety, or even a major relapse, but it is entirely possible to live a happy, successful, seemingly normal life, despite all the attacks I've endured over the last few years. And that, is pretty neat, no?
Of course not everyone was as impressed by the candid episode, as I was. He tweeted a few things about the episode, and some of the replies that he got, left me dumbfounded...
"@VINNYGUADAGINO, are you sure it doesn't make anxious? Make you want to go home to your mom instead of make 100kan episode to party? #baby" -@TiceStar
I'm always amazed, because perhaps I'm still slightly naive, by how cruel, and STUPID other people can be. We get made fun of for admitting to our true sexuality, we get made fun of for they way we look, and we get made fun of for admitting that we aren't currently strong enough to do something on our own. It's hard to remember that no one knows you well enough to truly judge you, but that's what needs to be remembered. Plus, you can't really take it to heart, when the insulter has no concept of proper English.
Nonetheless. After so many discussions about pickles, and hating The Situation, and too many crotch shots, whoever thought I'd be honestly inspired while watching this show?
For more information on Vinny's story, and a pretty brilliant program that he's become involved with, visit: http://www.halfofus.com/default_splash.aspx
In an odd break from all the smushing, and pranking, and tanning and being completely shit-faced, Vinny decided he needed to leave the Shore, and get a hold of his anxiety again.
That hour on Thursday nights is never anything but mindless, hilarious entertainment, but I found myself in awe this time. While the rest of the house went out for the night, Vinny confessed to Pauly that he'd been diagnosed with clinical anxiety a while ago, and that it wasn't safe to keep trying to ignore it. And that ladies and gents, is a real man.
It was a little surreal to hear someone, someone famous who seemed to lead an ideal life, describe feeling the exact way I've felt. If you've ever googled anxiety, or been lucky enough to spend time with a therapist, you know that you're not the only one who's suffering (around 19 million are diagnosed in the States every year), but it makes sub a difference to hear someone else say it all out loud.
And? He stopped drinking! He wasn't a raging alcoholic by any means, but when everyone else that you live with insists on being wasted at some point each day..when that's the cool, easy thing to do, when you're basically getting paid to party..it's not easy to say no. I liked that they pointed that out. Makes sober kids like me feel a little less un-cool.
You don't have to know someone personally, to be proud of them. I'm proud of him! And inspired. To know that he's been dealing with this the entire time that he's been this happy, hilarious character on TV, gives me hope. And fits right in with my fearless outlook on 2012! I'll never be immune to anxiety, or even a major relapse, but it is entirely possible to live a happy, successful, seemingly normal life, despite all the attacks I've endured over the last few years. And that, is pretty neat, no?
Of course not everyone was as impressed by the candid episode, as I was. He tweeted a few things about the episode, and some of the replies that he got, left me dumbfounded...
"@VINNYGUADAGINO, are you sure it doesn't make anxious? Make you want to go home to your mom instead of make 100kan episode to party? #baby" -@TiceStar
I'm always amazed, because perhaps I'm still slightly naive, by how cruel, and STUPID other people can be. We get made fun of for admitting to our true sexuality, we get made fun of for they way we look, and we get made fun of for admitting that we aren't currently strong enough to do something on our own. It's hard to remember that no one knows you well enough to truly judge you, but that's what needs to be remembered. Plus, you can't really take it to heart, when the insulter has no concept of proper English.
Nonetheless. After so many discussions about pickles, and hating The Situation, and too many crotch shots, whoever thought I'd be honestly inspired while watching this show?
For more information on Vinny's story, and a pretty brilliant program that he's become involved with, visit: http://www.halfofus.com/default_splash.aspx
Princess Resoluted
"Sometimes all you need is twenty seconds. Twenty seconds of courage. Twenty seconds of embarrassing bravery, and I promise something amazing will come of it. "
-Benjamin Mee, We Bought A Zoo
I realized that after everything..and it was a lot..2012 will be the first entire year that I will not have to stress, and be anxious, over wondering what the heck is wrong with me. This will be the first entire year of knowing that I have Endometriosis, and that is why I have felt so utterly crappy. And what better way to celebrate this first entire year, then with a rather decent resolution: Be Fearless.
Knowing, makes the world less scary. I now know the answer to the one question that instilled such fear in my life, so now I have no excuse to be anything but fearless. I am finally equipped with the mental, and medical weapons that I need to deal with what I've been dealing with, so why not move onto kicking the rest of the world's ass.
One step at a time, of course! I haven't made plans to jump out of a plane, or eat scorpions, or backpack Europe on my own. I'm not a crazy person! I did eat a McChicken meal though. Lol. You may or may not know how terrifying that was for me. But I did it! And! I did t die, or even throw up when I was done! Little triumphs inspire bravery. I also happily accepted another shift at work, another 7 hours away from the safety of my own home, and another 7 hours closer to working full-time like every other 'normal' adult! And up next...me and my fearlessness are taking on Vegas!
Booya.
2012 is my year. Princesses make for excellent share'ers, though.
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