The Brief “I’m in Hong Kong” Post

It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

I am currently in Hong Kong. Wow. I can’t believe the time has actually come. I have been here for a bit over 24 hours and it still is just sinking in. The jet lag is not really my thing. I’m wide awake and it’s 1:30 am here. Not good.

I am awaiting my first Skype call from my dad. This is quite a milestone as my dad is horrible when it comes to technology.

15 minutes have passed and I’m calling it quits. Don’t think he got my email earlier.

This post is simply to state briefly that I am in Hong Kong and the city is beautiful.

That is all. Lots of love to all of you!!


Concentration Problems

I can definitely tell what the Wellbutrin did.

While it raised my anxiety considerably, it also made my concentration improve.

Right now, I kind of wish I still had it in my body. Studying for my final tomorrow is proving to be quite difficult. I know I don’t need to know the small details since both my professors said not to, but I can’t help it. I know other people will be studying it. I feel like I should, too.

I’m just finding it impossible to work on it right now.


It’s been a hollow past couple of days. I can’t find any relief until I take some lorazepam.

I’m still having spontaneous heart palpitations. I’m still having to distract myself to keep myself from going insane.

Yesterday was incredibly draining. It was my little step-nephew’s 8th birthday party. My parents wanted me and my sister to come, but only I could go. There were about 20-30 people at my parent’s house. Screaming children played downstairs. Adults chatted upstairs. I mostly stuck to the couch away from everyone. My dad would join me every so often. My step-brother would try to keep me included. Only my dad really understood how I just wanted to be left alone. I don’t like parties much, especially when I don’t really know the people there. I haven’t been feeling well to begin with recently. Socializing in a situation like that requires me to be on a really good day, anyway.

My parent’s I could tell felt a bit guilty. But then they had their way of making me feel guilty too. I didn’t realize that it really was going to be the last time I would see them until I return from Hong Kong until they said so. Pam got me a few gifts for Christmas. A couple pairs of fuzzy socks, a new bag, a very nice vest and jacket. All extremely lovely gifts. I definitely need to get them something nice while I’m abroad. They stayed up until 11:00 with me, much too late for them usually.

I have a final in about 15 hours. I don’t know when I’ll bother studying for it. Right now, I’m just trying to calm my racing┬áheart.

I have decided to take quite a few incomplete courses this semester. This episode of depression and intense anxiety just really hit with supremely bad timing. I haven’t been able to focus on much recently besides my deteriorating health. It’s taken all I can to do distract myself and try my best to complete my to do lists.

I just need to get through the next few days. 2 finals. Possibly going to go see a friend tomorrow after my final. I still need to see if I can exchange cars with my sister.

I can’t think of much else to write at the moment. Perhaps I should go do my dishes and put away my laundry. Clear my mind maybe.

I feel like I’m living in a grey cloud. Everything’s kind of hazy, damp. Sometimes, a ray of sun breaks through. Usually it’s just the grey.

Or maybe I’m just reflecting on the recent weather.

I hate winter.

Human High School Science Experiment

Oh jeeze….

So I’m borderline ready to explode.

Or implode.

This anxiety is raw and is fighting every medication I put in my body to get rid of it.

The Wellbutrin is helping the anxiety.

I’m no longer on the Wellbutrin.

In fact, I’m being weened off Lexapro, too. I’m going to be put on Effexor. Oh god… when will it end??

I want to ask for an extension on a paper. But I feel like then I’d be asking too much. Just lazy. But honestly, my anxiety completely controls my life and I only am getting brief periods of sanity. This Wellbutrin really messed me up. I hate being in that small 10% that certain medication combos don’t work for.

If I don’t take the Lorezapam at a regular interval, I go crazy.

I took 2 at about 8:30. I just took 1 about 20 minutes ago. I feel like I’m going to die.

My head is spinning, my limbs don’t feel like they’re really under my control, my heart rate is erratic… the list goes on. I am so dependent upon my medications right now. This is just a mess.

I just need to wait 40 more minutes then I get to see my therapist, Lisa. 40 more minutes.

I ate.

That’s something good.

I had a salad and sandwich and bread at Panera. Yesterday, I have a piece of toast, a pear, and a pb&j sandwich. I probably won’t eat another meal today, though.

I’m so incredibly tired. I just want to sleep. I feel like I’m at a risk of a mental break down right now.

I’m probably going to pack up here and just sit and wait in the parking lot.

Cheers to being a human high school science experiment.

The 2014 Anniversary: Part 1.5

Well, the rest of the day has proven to be interesting in the least.

I went to my one class. I finished my project. I went to my friend’s recital. I got drunk.

Yes. It is a Tuesday night. Yes, I have classes tomorrow morning. Yes. I got drunk.

In fact, I’m still a bit drunk.

It wasn’t wise. It’s the anniversary. My friends that know what’s been going on with me questioned me significantly. It’s my day is what I said. But really, it isn’t. It’s my mom’s. And I’ve tarnished it.

I had some great discussions with the younger guys in my studio.

I missed Calvin today.

I miss him dearly too.

His mom sent me a nice message though.

I’ve had so many thoughts pass through me today.

Now, I’m too tired to voice them.

Some of them are on music. Some of them are on relationships. Some of them are about the categorization of people against an individualist society.

But really, I’m too tired to function.

Here’s to the messed up, broken, successful in its own way anniversary. I really do love you, mom. I’m sorry I’m such an immature adult at times. At least my apartment’s clean. The little things, right?

The 2014 Anniversary: Part 1

Part post because it’s early morning and I’m hoping to write again tonight:

This is the day I dread almost every year. It’s the anniversary of my mom’s death.

I’ll give a short bio on her. She was a ballet dancer. Earned her undergraduate degree in dance from Indiana University (which, I didn’t know this, but was very good at the time she attended) and then a few years later her Masters in Dance from the University of Iowa. I believe at that point she was with my dad. They met in Louisville on a blind date. She went on a second date because she liked his car. She danced with the Boston Ballet for a time then was a soloist for the Louisville ballet for a few years. My parents were married for 10 years before they had my sister. Pregnancy put my mother’s dancing career on hold and she taught lessons in our basement until I was ready to go to school. I believe she also taught at a local studio in the evenings when my dad was home from teaching at school. When we moved from Indiana to Iowa, she started the Youth Dance Form at the University of Iowa and participated in a number of dance things throughout the area. We chose our parish because they were the only Catholic church in the Iowa City area that allowed liturgical dance. My mom was fairly close to our pastor. Or… well… as ever close to him as one could be. He was an older man, could be very short with people. He was open to expressions of faith, but don’t touch the actual mass. That was his part and it had to be done to standard. He could be very harsh, but he loved my mom. Always thought the dances she brought to the church were beautiful.

I think some of them continued after she died, but my sister and I were too struck with grief to really help or participate.

My mom was my beacon of faith. That was until a few years back when my sister told me that our mom only clung to her faith when she was diagnosed with cancer because it was the only thing she could do. Older siblings have a tendency to ruin things like that.

This past year has had its ups and downs. My mental health has been better and gotten worse. My relationship has blossomed. Long distance sucks, but we’re doing quite well. I’ve been excelling in school, only to be set back due to medical issues.

I know I have raised this issue in the past, but I don’t really like people telling me that my mom would be proud of me. I mean, she probably would, but she’s not here to tell me so. She hasn’t been here to see me grow. It’s one of those things that I can’t really explain nor really explain it well, but it irks me. Mostly I feel like it’s a way for people that aren’t really close to me or don’t know me to offer some sort of condolences. Only once has it not bothered me, and it moved me to tears. It was from that pastor I was talking about above. I had just performed as Mother Superior in “The Sound of Music” my junior year of high school. Now, this pastor doesn’t give out compliments. Ever. Yet he pulled me aside after mass one day and said that he was so incredibly impressed by my voice and that my mom would be so proud of me. It has been one of 2 compliments I have treasured in my life.

So, I guess to explain the whole “mom would be so proud” thing, I feel like I have to have done something to earn it. Something beyond the normal day-to-day stuff. Granted, I do have a lot to be proud of. I haven’t cut in almost 300 days. Even though I went to the hospital almost a week ago. I haven’t tried to kill myself. I’ve been taking my medications regularly. My apartment’s clean. But these are things I’m not going to share on Facebook. At least, not yet. Maybe I’ll just deal with another year of “<3 Love to you and your family, Victoria! Your mother would be so proud of you girls!”

I’ve also thought about not posting it this year. Let’s be real, I don’t post often on Facebook. I feel like I have to honor her in some way besides going to the cemetery. Part of me wants to do this silently this year, though. I don’t want to just let it pass though. I have to acknowledge it. I can’t just brush it aside like any other day. This is an important day. And I love my mom.

An Anxious Home

Today has been interesting to say in the least.

I have started the new regimen of sedatives 3-4 times a day. Unfortunately, I has done little to sedate my anxiety.

Heart palpitations out of no where. Hyperventilating. Shaking hands. Fear of dying. Panic attacks. Trigger? Nothing. Nothing that really stands out. Ordinary day.

So I went home after all my classes and slept. Visited a friend to pick up a sweatshirt. Played in a concert, which was no big deal. Saw my dad, who came for the concert. He came over to my apartment. He was impressed by its condition. Shocked with how small it is. I like it though. Especially since I hung Christmas lights every where and actually decorated the space. It feels cozy and more like me. It’s really my home. I intend to keep it.

I read some article about how all women should live by themselves at one point in their twenties. I agree with that. I agree that you need a space to completely make your own. No significant other to try to match or agree with. No roommate to compromise with. A place you can walk around naked with no fears of anyone else coming in. While I am very excited to live with Calvin eventually, I really do love this little home of mine. It is entirely mine. And I do love it.

Just like this anxiety is entirely mine. It’s something that has always been with me and continues to develop with me. I have given it a home. The space seems to increase and decrease. Now, I feel like it has completely torn down the walls of this “home” and just spread through my body like fire. It certainly feels like fire.

I’m just worried that this anxiety is stemming from the increase in Wellbutrin. I’ve had to take 6 lorazepam and 3 beta-blockers. I don’t want to be popping that many pills to just get through the day. I see my docs later this week, so we’ll see if this trend continues.

Right now, I am very tired and have a fluffy kitty curled up on my shoulder. He has been nudging my head with his own throughout this post, so I think I better devote some cuddling time to him.

I just want my body to be a healthy home.

Hope: Past, Present, and Future

Today has been pretty good.

After paying my rent (which was overdue), I finished rereading the Hunger Games (again). I washed the dishes and took out the trash. Then, I got creative and hung up lights all over my apartments. I also got out all my old decorations and hung them throughout my room. I’ll be sure to post pictures soon.

My depression made it pretty hard to get out of bed or do anything too important. So I stuck to these little pleasures and got just that – pleasure. It’s a nice feeling that I have forgotten.

I’m starting to pull my apartment together and it’s coming quite nicely. I like it a lot. To have a cozy little place to call my own is a true dream.

A talk about sex happened.

He’s much more reluctant than I and if he knew I was posting this, he would be very angry with me. I won’t go into details since no one really needs to know nor probably wants to know those things.

I just happen to be much more accepting of my sexuality. I don’t feel ashamed by my past endeavors nor do I feel that he should either. I’m all for learning more about what works for him and for us. I’m eager in this field. I like to experiment. Sometimes, the good fall backs are necessary, but sometimes, we need to explore.

Mostly, I’m afraid that he’s uncomfortable with his sexuality. He’s very nervous about it which is very understandable. I just need to coax him gently and slowly into acceptance. We don’t have to be crazy – hell, I’m not really crazy in that sense – but exploring is so much fun. It strengthens the relationship when you reach that level of trust and confidence in yourself and the other person. It’s really a beautiful thing. Something I’ve always wanted but never really had yet.

We have so much time and so much a future for us. He’s what keeps me going. When I went to the ER, the reason why I said I didn’t want to kill myself was because I wanted to have a future. I wanted to have my future as a music therapist, as a wife, as a mother, and to let my connections with people expand. I want to love and be loved. I want to be free of this dark shadow that robs me of these feelings. I want to get better so desperately. I’m getting there, just some days are harder than others.

He is so much a part of my past, present, and future. He wants me to move in with him after I’m done with classes next fall. I will be doing so. I will go with him where he goes for his doctorate. I find somewhere close to do my internship. I will work. He will study. Somewhere along the road, we’ll get married. Start having kids. He’s already picked out names. I’ve agreed on a few and we have a few worked out. It’s also how he think we can get his parents to come move to the states.

I want this future. I want this future so bad.

I’m also feeling like this post is a lot of fluff.

Oh…. I took my “sleep time” sedatives.

So there’s that.

But still. I like being on this road. I will continue to work hard to stay on this road. Little by little, I will get there.

I haven’t experienced hope like this in years.

Updated Journal

So, Wednesday wasn’t any better than Tuesday night.

It was so bad I went to the ER. I wasn’t admitted. I’ve been at my parent’s house for the last few days. Today, I wasn’t able to shake off the blues until I took an Ativan. Yesterday was simply mediocre. It’s been nice being with my dad though.

My family keeps talking and asking when I leave for Hong Kong. I can’t believe I’m really about to go there.

I asked my doctor if she thought I would be okay going, given the recent circumstances.

She thought it would be okay, I would just need to adjust my meds accordingly. And get enough of them to last me the trip and to keep all of them on me at all times. Not bad advise. I like my doctor.

She really helped make me feel less pressure to fix myself. I’ve always felt like there’s something wrong with me and therefore something I’m not doing right or that I’m messing up.

She reminded me that I’m paying her to help fix me. Yes, there are things I have to do, like take my meds and make my appointments, but leave the fixing decisions to her. I don’t have to feel guilty for something not going right.

Okay. She’s encouraging me to blame her. I won’t deny that I feel like a science experiment, but whatever.

My docs have also advised me to keep a more updated journal.


I think you’ll be seeing more of me than you have in a while. I know I have been horribly inconsistent and it will take me time to get it down, but I will.

So to those of you still around and commenting – thank you for your kind words and wisdom. I cannot express my gratitude to you with my own words as I’m as clumsy with words as I am walking.

But really. You guys are the best.

And I’m super tired now so… g’night y’all.

Depressive Control

It’s taking everything in me to not break down and cry.

I’m just so tired of this battle.

Drugs don’t work. I’m gaining weight. I feel like my life is a mess again. I have no motivation to do anything about it. I’m so scared about classes tomorrow. I want to go – I really do. Right now I don’t feel like I can go. I feel just so incredibly depressed.

And what’s worse is I feel like a failure for not being able to control it.

I feel bad that I’ve missed so much class that I feel like I can’t afford to miss any more. I honestly just don’t know what to do.