sick day, sick life

[cw: mental illness, suicidal ideation, trauma]

it’s been a really long time and i’m a very different person than the last time i posted anything on here. pussy goes grrr will be ten years old this april. i will be thirty this may. i’ve looked forward to being thirty with an unreasonable intensity since my early twenties. my thirties have to be different than my twenties, i’ve told myself for years, they just have to be. i can’t go on like this if they’re not. 

my last post, from summer of 2017, was about an intense bout of mania i experienced that enabled me to clean and decorate my apartment in away that was not possible before. that bout of mania seems to have been something of a turning point. i got diagnosed with bipolar depression in college but i’ve been so deeply depressed since i graduated high school that the diagnosis never really meant much me, practically speaking. they put me on zoloft, it made me hypomanic, so they determined i was bipolar. i stayed depressed for the remainder of college, went to the hospital, barely finished college, moved to ann arbor. depressed the whole fuckin’ time. low energy, low mood, that was my normal. summer of ’17 was the turning point but i didn’t realize it until way later.

i’ve known for a really long time that traditional jobs aren’t good for me. it took almost 4 years at a terrible call center job for me to tap out. i was so numb and had so much unacknowledged, unresolved trauma. i was dissociating constantly and drinking a lot; if i wasn’t drinking, i was thinking about drinking and how soon before i’d be able to drink again. i don’t really drink anymore. and i’m not really depressed 24/7 anymore. i’m more mentally strong and physically capable than i’ve been in my entire adult life.

the trade off is that now i feel extremely fucking bipolar all the fucking time. easing into this new normal, this new cocktail of brain chemicals, has been a huge adjustment and it’s been a rough one. having more energy and more capacity to do shit has been great but i feel my mood swings and anxiety so much more acutely now. it’s helped me realize that i was extremely hypomanic through most of high school! makes me wonder if my brain chemicals will always churn in neat, decade-long waves (or is it just that the big social thing of entering a new decade makes makes the churning happen? [it’s probably a confluence of a bunch of shit i’ll never really understand]).

all this to say: because i feel everything so fucking intensely right now, including all the cumulative trauma of my life, i cannot work in an office anymore. my current job situation is destroying my mental health. in the past two months i have had multiple severe panic attacks over my job, have had frequent, debilitating stomach pain (not sure if it’s anxiety related, an unknown physical ailment, or combo of both), and have had to take an alarming amount of unpaid mental health days that have seriously hurt our financial situation this winter. this morning i woke up and stared at the ceiling for half an hour, thinking about suicide. i cannot continue to go to a job that makes me feel this way.

i’ve been applying like a crazy woman (because that’s what i am!!!!) for anything i feel even sort of qualified for. local jobs but also scouring all kinds of listings for any legit remote jobs i can find. when i was unemployed in summer ’17, i was able to support myself for about a month on art commissions. that period of time was, at that point, the happiest i had ever felt in my life. i’ve suspected for years that working from home would be the ideal solution for me but it’s very hard to just start doing that, not when you don’t have the financial support. we can barely keep our heads above water when we’re both working every day.

but i realized that if i want my thirties to feel any different, any less insane and desperate and scary, than my twenties have, i have to actually do something about it. it sucks and it’s hard and so difficult to fucking do something about it every damn day, especially when every day i don’t hear back from any other opportunities is another day i have to force myself to go to a job that is hurting me. especially when the allure of just laying down and giving up is so strong. especially when it’s winter and everything feels so fucking hopeless. every fucking goddamn stupid day i have to get up and say “okay, let’s try this shit again” instead of withering up into nothingness and it would be so much easier for me to do that if i could work from home.

so, this is not just an update on my life but also a statement of intention. it’s me trying to hold myself accountable and to make even the smallest amount of change in my life. this isn’t a donation post (and i say that humbly, as someone who has had to ask for donations in the past) but just a request that if you have any freelance work you might wanna throw my way (proofreading, editing, transcription, i have a hodgepodge of skills!) or you know of any remote jobs that might be a good fit for me, please hit me up. i have also decided to open up art commissions indefinitely for the foreseeable future; check out my portfolio here! if you dig my art and would like to talk about commissioning me for a piece send an email to p.g.grrr@gmail.com with the subject line COMMISSION. you’d be helping a sensitive, struggling dyke out and you’ll get a totally unique and reasonably-priced piece of art! i’m looking for any amount of freelance/at home work i can do, even if it’s just as a side hustle for now.

thanks for reading this far and for liking this little blog. we’re just two wives trying to find a little joy in this world and pussy goes grrr has brought a lot of joyous people into our lives <3

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Filed under Mental Illness, Personal

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