Whatever it is, I’m having one. It hurts a lot.
But I think…I think the difference between a breakdown and a breakthrough is what you do with the pain.
I keep trying to post this – I have since December – but the pressure keeps building in the form of good news.
Daisies and Bruises placed as a nominee for the WEGO Health Activist Awards for 2015. Then a few days ago I got a text from my friends at HealthiNation: the videos I did with them in December just got nominated for an Emmy. Yeah, the Emmy Awards. This little blog is making a splash in TV land. I am so proud!
This is all really good news, but I am cracking. Promotion for this blog is all wonderful. It’s what I want. More viewers and readers means more people helped. That’s what this blog is about.
Yet…my body is telling me that something has to change. My head is screaming at me not only through depression and PTSD and all the issues I’m used to living with, but through migraines. My migraines have gone from bad to worse and I fucking can’t take the pain any more. I’ve lost count how many times I’ve been to the ER this month because of the pain and the culprit is stress.
I literally got so stressed a couple of weeks ago that I bled out my eyes. You read that right. Both eyes and my mouth at the same time. Here’s proof, just ask my mom (thanks Mom):
I’ve been to the doctor and everything. I’m not dying. I’m just stressed to my maximum. Something has to change. I have to change.
Daisies and Bruises is here to stay. I’ve never felt so dedicated to one thing in my life. The Art of Living With Depression is alive. I want it to live. I want to live for this.
But I don’t feel like I’m living. I feel like I’m dying.
My migraines need treatment that I can’t afford.
I can’t afford food. I can’t afford my rent.
I can’t afford to work for free unless I also let myself do this one thing that I am so SCARED to do:
ASK FOR HELP. ASK YOU FOR HELP.
And actually let you help me.
I feel like the Queen of Vulnerability here. It’s so ironic because I can write about my suicide attempts far easier than I can talk about me actually surviving in this life I have. I am so sick of talking about my death. I want to talk about my life.
But living costs money. And I hate money…I hate asking for it, using it, putting a dollar value on anything at all because life is so much more than what our bank account tells us.
I’ve been trying to figure out how to make this work. My post on wishing helped me really think about my future. About what I want. I want to write for a living. I want to travel. I want to change the world.
But first? First…I need to ask for help. Here.
And as big as my dreams are, the things that would help my stress levels the most are the most basic:
I would like three meals a day. I’d like to afford to not only eat but eat well, as in fruits and veggies and meat and everything my body needs to function. It’s not functioning right now.
Three meals a day would help recovery from my depression. But affording food would help me get there. So would being able to afford some new clothes to fit my healthy body. Nothing fancy, just clothes that fit me.
I’m not used to asking. But next? I might add a pair of running shoes to that clothing list.
Then I could run with Digby, my dog. Then my depression would get better from the magic of exercise. It’s one of the best and most basic forms of treatment for depression. When my depression benefits from exercise, I’ll write about it here for you.
Beyond three meals a day, some running shoes, and hope for survival – being able to count on paying my bills…security. Safety. HOPE.
A healthier me. A stronger me. A more secure me would mean more writing. Writing is my most favourite thing in the whole world. Imagine what we could do together if we set our minds to it.
Writing. Writing and writing and speaking.
Traveling to your city to talk about the Art of Living With Depression. Wouldn’t that be cool? Wouldn’t that be real? Wouldn’t that be worth looking forward to? Living for?
We need to fight depression together. I need your help.
If you can’t help me financially, I totally totally get it. We’re all struggling to survive. And I’m going to write for you forever, whether you can give me one cent or not. I will write forever.
But if you can afford to give me a small amount of fiancial support, it would be the world.
Support for this blog? If I had it, this blog could fully blossom. I would make it my full-time job and I would give you more. More posts, more stories, more life. I could share my life with you.
Let me share my life with you. Please. I LOVE YOU.
THANK YOU. THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! *HUGS*
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