Saturday, April 9, 2016

Breaking Down....Getting Back Up...

I had a break down the other day. It was ugly. I cried, I worried, I sobbed, I snotted. It happened and although I felt ashamed of it because it made me feel weak, I got over it. I am not going to lie, I hated it, hated myself, and hated the hell my own mind puts me through.  Being like this takes up so much energy. It exhausts me. It depresses me. It angers me. When this happens, I wrestle with blaming myself for not being a normal fucking person who can put on her big girl pant and just push through all of the stress.

I knew it was coming. My distraction tactics weren't working as I had hoped. My ability to think of other things didn't pan out either. Thankfully. my family is very good to me when I get like this and they really support me.

I am much better today. I can still feel it though, stalking around in the dark recesses of my mind. I can feel the medical fears trying to claw their way back into my day. I am aware that they are still there waiting for me. It seems as though I can almost hear them breathing in the shadows. My OCD is haunting me.

I will not avoid my life because of some baseless fears that feel very real to me but are, in fact, imaginary things that my mind has conjured up to scare me and make my life miserable. I will not let the nameless and faceless ghosts of my mental illness take over my life. I refuse.

I have struggled with this for thirty two years. I know that sometimes my OCD wins. It pisses me off but just as I know that sometimes my medical fears win, I also know that most of the time I am the one who is victorious.  So, it may have gotten the better of me two days ago and I may have had a break down complete with a panic attack. Sure, I may have blubbered and felt sorry for myself, but that doesn't mean that I will give up. If anything it just makes me strive to fight harder. I broke down and now I am concentrating on getting back up.

I just have to keep on keeping on and remember that everything is going to be okay. And it will be okay just as soon as some of these stress triggers are over with.

Hope you all are having a fantastic week and please don't give up on yourself if you are not. Things are bound to get better. And be proud of yourself. You are strong. You are worthy. You are capable. You are unique.

Until next time,
Neurotic Nelly

Sunday, April 3, 2016

Ugh, Sorry So Late

My computer is on the fritz. My posts have been delayed because it keeps having a meltdown causing me to have to repeatedly fix it. Something I do not really have time for at the moment.

I also have been dealing with a great deal of stress making me obsess over medical fears again. Sigh, I get so tired of this. Currently I am obsessing about Barret's disease and throat cancer because I take a high dose of stomach acid reducer and have developed heartburn anyway. I have no idea why. I wish it would go away.

Last week I was obsessed with breast cancer. And the week before it was cervical cancer fears. I really need these next few days to hurry up and go away so my anxiety level can go back to normal. I realize all of this is due to something else totally unrelated but this is how my supposed coping system works.

I am stressed out by something else so my OCD makes it about me and medical fears instead. I much rather worry about the other things that aren't as scary. This mental illness is hell.

I guess I will have to see a doctor about this heartburn if it doesn't go away soon. Ugh.

Oh well, I have gotten my computer up and running again. For a little bit at least and will be writing a post for this Thursday as usual. Hope you guys like it and so sorry for the delay.

Hope you all have a fantastic week,
Neurotic Nelly

Thursday, March 17, 2016

I Am Not Voting....Rant...Rant...Rant

I am not voting....

There I said it. I have heard the primed and often repeated response from several people that if a person doesn't vote, they have no right to bitch about who wins or what happens. I humbly, disagree.

As a human being living on this planet, I can bitch about pretty much anything I want to. Emphatically and without permission.  If the warm weather turns cold, I can bitch about it. If the laundry piles up right after I have washed and folded it and put it away, I can bitch about it and throw a hissy fit if deemed necessary. If the one of my lovely cats eats too much canned cat food and lets out silent but deadly plumes of acrid air as a thank you gift, I can certainly bitch about that too. None of those things are things that I have any control over nor are any of those things off topic for me to complain about simply because I did not go all the way in to town, by flagging down a ride, standing in a long line of people that I don't really want to stand next to, and filling out a tiny little box on some kind of new wave voting machine..... They just happened. Without my say so or my input. Much like this election.

 Now, I am sure some people are going to question why I am not voting and some people may even get huffy about it. I don't really care if they do, their perception of me is none of my business. I will, however explain why I am not now nor have I ever voted.

I am repeatedly assaulted with the same old regurgitation that not voting means that I can not "change the world"  and that to do my duty as a true American I need to stand by my representatives......but these people don't represent me. They don't even know I exist.

I am a thirty six year old woman with a mental illness.

I could say that I don't go to the polling place because of my anxiety. That is somewhat true but not the complete reason why I avoid voting. I could summarize the hardships of not being able to drive and toting two children with me to the bad part of town all by myself, filled with said anxiety, trying to find a way to get there in some one else's vehicle. I could try and muster up some money, I don't really have to spare, on a taxi because contrary to some people's beliefs not all jobs allow you to take off to vote and my husband has one of those kinds of jobs where he is needed because people would absolutely freak out if he wasn't there to help them. I could, but I am not going to. It would be pointless.

You see, the problem isn't just the hardship of mobility or the extreme anxiety I would suffer  just so some patriotic vote pushers could rest easier tonight on the absurd notion that my personal vote counts for something.

The problem is that my vote means nothing. My vote is irrelevant. The people that I am asked to vote for do not see me. They see a number. They see a chad or a check mark or whatever they use to tally votes now a days. What they don't see is the individual. The human being with mental illness.

No, my vote doesn't really count because the candidates don't care about mental illness. If they did they would talk about mental illness in a constructive way, not just a political jargon to please the masses. They would have put their money where their mouth is and would have been in the trenches fighting for us, our healthcare, our representation. They would be trying to fix this completely broken down mental health care  system that has failed us time and time again.....It is obvious to me that they either are not bothered by it or don't care enough to look at it in detail because if they did, they would do something to change it.

It is clear to me that my vote imperceptible because, for all intensive purposes, I am invisible to them.

 Look at the ads and tell me where just one of these candidates has talked about changing the false perception of mentally ill people? Show me their detailed plans on how they suggest we fix the problem of lack of hospital beds, lack of housing, lack of funding and facilities, and lack of compassion.  Tell me when they have brought up the few and far between programs that help the police deal with us in a constructive and non violent way. Show me where we are treated as the equally important individuals that we are. Show me where they have spent anytime discussing how they would change the system that has been said to have  64% of all persons in jail, 56% of all people in state prisons, and 45% of all people incarcerated in federal prisons suffering from mental illness symptoms. Show me the ads they have played that showed how they supported our causes and spotlighted our support groups. Show me where any of them, just once, talked about how suicide is the 10th leading cause of death of all age groups in America. Where is their campaign ad showing their outrage about that? What about the unacceptability that 22 veterans of this country kill themselves everyday? Where is the disgust that not enough is being done to help with PTSD, Anxiety, and Depression? Prove to me where they stood up for us and discussed our plight without the description or implication that we are somehow dangerous or criminal or less than everyone else. Show me the advocacy for the one in five American adults that will experience  mental illness each year. Can you do that?

No, I didn't think so.

So, no I am not voting. Not just because my vote doesn't really matter to them but because my vote matters very much to me. Up until the time I see a candidate raise our cause and fight for us, I refuse to raise my ass off this couch and make the effort to go downtown and deal with the anxiety of my very real mental illness, that is unequivocally unimportant  and invisible to them, and place my vote. I will not vote for someone who would not vote to help our situation and give our system the funding it needs to save the lives of other people that are just like us. I will not stand behind anyone who will not stand behind us and make it an essential part of their campaign to help the mental illness community with it's needs, it's under staffing, it's under funding, it's stigmatization, and it's misplaced shame. I refuse to do it.

I am positive that they will not miss my vote as they have not missed my vote in the eighteen years I have been eligible to vote and yet have remained silent. I am sure that they didn't even see that it was missing. That is okay, I am not bothered that my lack of voting is mind boggling to some people and my reasons are ignored by others. I and the other people that suffer from mental illness go unheard by the media and the people voted into office every day. This day is no different.

I do not need to have permission to be disappointed in my candidates. I do not have to apologize for standing up for what I believe in by not voting and I do not have to accept being put down, bullied, and shamed because I chose stick by those beliefs.

 The silence of my refusal to vote says more to me than me making some half-assed vote for someone that I am constantly told represents me. My refusal to vote is saying, if I don't matter to you than your election, that clearly has nothing to do with me in the first place, doesn't matter to me either.
If these people were really my representatives, and really represented all of us, I wouldn't have to resort to refusing my vote, which may be the biggest tragedy of the whole process, in my opinion.

I am not asking everyone else to not vote, I am simply explaining why I choose not to.

.......... and I boldly retain the right to bitch about that for as long I want too........

Neurotic Nelly

Thursday, March 10, 2016

Hello Dear Readers.....

Hello there dear readers,

I wanted to share with you guys a post I am very excited about that was published by an OCD group that I really believe in. There is a great bunch of information about OCD and is geared towards being informational as well as inspiring. I am honored to have been allowed to write a post for them.

 You can my new post here:

Their website is:

You can find both @TheOCDStories and me, @NeuroticNelly1 on twitter.

I am honored to still be blogging after 3 years. It has really opened my eyes and my heart and has allowed me to live with less fear in my life. Less fear of judgment, less fear of stigma. I have run into a few negative comments but mostly I have received some amazing support and have talked to some amazing people. I am truly thankful for all of the encouragement I have gotten while blogging. It really means a lot.

I always get a little scared when I put myself out there and offer a written piece to other websites. I am afraid of rejection but also I sometimes second guess  myself and my worthiness as a writer. I have committed to myself this year, to go out there and keep on doing so. I truly believe that sometimes you will fail but you can never succeed if you never try. It is, for me, all about trying to live out of my comfort zone and continuing to believe in myself. I have not always been very good at believing in myself. I am pushing to continue to change that. I know that I must practice what I preach.

I know that living with mental illness is never easy but if my blog does anything, it is my deepest wish that it inspires hope. I want people who suffer to know, that they are worthy capable human beings. That their feelings and desires matter. That they can be whatever they choose to be and that they are worth all of the trails and struggles and work. They are worth hanging in there. You are worth hanging in there.

People that suffer from mental illness have the same desires as people that do not. We all want to be loved, to be accepted, to be seen and heard. And there is no reason that we can't have those things. There is no reason for us to live our lives in under neath the weight of shame and wrapped in a straight jacket of stigma.

There is no reason mental illness should be looked at by the rest of the world any differently than any physical illness is. We did not choose to be this way but we do have to live with our mental illness. There is no reason we should have to live in fear of judgment on top of that as well.

I want all of us to know what amazing, unique, magnificent individuals we are. I want us never to doubt how important we all are not just to our loved ones but also the world.

We are all important. We all matter.

So, I thank each and every one of you that read this. My blog would not mean anything if no one read it. It would be like speaking into the wind. I really do appreciate the time and the comments and the encouragement. I hope that my posts also offer you all the same kind of inspiration and encouragement that you all have offered me.

Please if you have time, take a moment to read my guest post and to take a gander at the website.

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Until next Thursday,
Neurotic Nelly

Thursday, February 25, 2016

No Wonder...

You can always tell how my week is going by the amount of curse words I say in my post. I apologize now, it has been a potty mouth kind of week......

I am trying really hard not to obsess.
I am trying my best and not succeeding.
I wish this was easier.

I often wonder how people go through life and receive worrying news, or news of any kind, and just put it out of their minds. I mean, how on earth does that work? How nice would it be to have such a magnificent ability? To just not think, and worry, and over analyze every damn thing would be mind boggling. These people have no idea how lucky they are to have such a gift.

As I write this, I am forcing myself to redo my living room to make it the way that I want it. Not because I have nothing better to do, but because two of my beloved family members are going through something stressful, hopefully it is nothing big. This in turn is freaking me out which then kicks in my OCD medical fears. Because my OCD works by taking my stress about other things and other people and then turns it into medical fears about myself, I am trying to shut it down before things get out of hand. I really don't fancy spending another night crying myself to sleep over some imagined ailment my mind makes up for me. My OCD tries to save me from my worry of my loved ones by giving me more unneeded worry about myself. It distracts me but with a negative distraction. It thinks it is helping....when it is, in fact, making things worse.

Example: If someone I love gets pneumonia, I get worried about them. My OCD brain shuts off that worry about them because I can not deal with the stress of it or the fear of losing them.  In turn, it turns my thoughts into an obsession that I may have a blood clot in my leg.

 Because I can not deal with stress well, my OCD seeks to distract me with some ridiculous bullshit obsession that I know is completely false but yet am still unable to completely ignore. Then all of that bad, negative, terrifying worry that I have for my loved one  just becomes a bad, negative, terrifying worry about myself. It sounds selfish but really my mind can not process the stress in a helpful way nor can it simply turn it off. It is simply distracting itself to save me from the anxiety of what my loved one is going through. It is just doing so in a way that creates an equal or larger amount of stress about something completely unrelated. Which I really don't need on top of every fucking thing else. Because I am still worried about that person just not to the point of breaking down because I am already breaking down by the worries my OCD mind has conveniently created for me about myself. Like an extremely fucked up self preservation tactic that is broken. If this was my only defense while traipsing through the wild, I would be eaten.

 It is a no wonder why I have an ulcer.

The only way for me to deal with this is to distract myself from such bullshit by forcing myself into obsessing about things I either want to do or like to think about. Like redoing my living room, or planting a new garden, or  planning a family trip. Something positive to fill the negative void of terror my OCD is creating. It is exhausting to constantly try and stuff this black hole of worry and doubt with happy or less scary thoughts but this is how I cope with my amazingly screwed up coping mechanism. Thanks OCD, you are such a little gem. (sarcasm)

I am  really trying not to obsess. I know that it doesn't help to worry about stuff. I know that distraction is something I need to do right now to keep myself healthy and above the fray of the OCD nonsense. I know what works best for me when things get like this. I know....but it is still hard.

So, I think tonight I am just going to go wash my face, put on my face moisturizer that I secretly think makes my face even more dry and has the wrinkle reducing properties of rubbing dry paper on my face (despite it's lofty claims) , and look at my laptop until my eyelids get heavy and I fall asleep....

I realize that at thirty six years old my life is about as exciting as a bottle of ketchup to some people, but when you have a mind that makes up shit to worry about over top of actual shit that needs to be worried about.....I don't really need any extra excitement. I got that part covered already. What I really need is an hour or two of Pintrest and a good night's sleep....and maybe some new face cream.

But hey, tomorrow has got to better than today and depending on how stressful my week is going to be, my living room is going to look fantastic....

Neurotic Nelly

Wednesday, February 17, 2016


I hate myself today....

I hate this guilt.... This shame that pounds the bones beneath my chest where my heart should be. My cheeks blush crimson with humiliation. I can feel it rush up from my toes like poison.....I despise the way my palms get sweaty and my mouth becomes dry and parched when confronted with things I didn't expect. Like rubbing cracked crystal  with broken fingers, my voice comes out in choking squeaks instead of imposing confidence. My thoughts are jagged and disjointed. I retreat back into myself to prevent further rejection. I feel ignored....It makes me feel weak and small and I hate to feel weak and small. I hate feeling like it is all my fault even though I know the truth is it has nothing to do with me. I am angry with myself for crying. I am mad at myself for letting other people's attitudes affect my own. I loath myself for not standing up for myself like I should because I am afraid, or I am too kind to others, or because I am so afraid of being seen as less than a considerate young woman. I hate that I am not a stronger person.

I hate myself when I am like this.

And then as I sit in my darkened living room, going over why I lost my footing and fell to my knees today, I remember that I have gotten through worse. People have treated me horridly and I made it through. I have had more horrible days. I have climbed larger mountains and slayed bigger dragons than this. This is just a blip on my radar. This is simply a bump in the road. I have been wounded but I am not cut off at the knees. This is nary a scratch for which to cover with one of those cheap drug store band-aids I bought a few weeks ago. It will heal in time. Probably won't even leave a scar. Besides everyone cries at some point. I am not special in that regard.

I love myself today....

Because if I don't how do I expect others too? Because I am worthy of love and affection. Because I am strong even when I think I am not. Because I can stand up, no I will myself to stand up. Because no one is perfect but that doesn't mean that they aren't special and magnificent and beautiful in their differences not in spite of them. Because no matter what anyone else says, I am a good person. I am a nice person. Because being a nice person doesn't mean that I have to allow people to dictate to me who or what I am and believe it. I am me. And that is enough....It has to be because that is all I've got. It is all any of us has got....being ourselves. Because it is okay to cry, and fail, and lose, and stumble. Because it is going to happen at some point. Because it doesn't matter how many times you have fallen. What really matters, is how many times you get back up.

 I love myself enough to keep trying.....

I love myself today

Because only love defeats hate and I am worth more than feeling sorry for myself, or being mad at myself, or feeling like I am lost. I am not lost. I am not broken. I am exactly who I need to be.

Neurotic Nelly

Thursday, February 4, 2016

To See or Not To See...That is Not the Question...

I can not wait until bedtime tonight. I usually struggle with insomnia but I have only had three hours of sleep in the last twenty four hours so, I highly doubt this is going to be an issue for me. I am not tired...I am beyond exhausted. I needed a pillow and a blanket and a flat surface about three hours ago but I have responsibilities. Now that I did not have time to receive and utilize a pillow, blanket, and a chance for flat surface laying.... I am cranky.

             Let's talk about Punxsutawney Phil for a second. I don't know if the U.S. has anymore of a more bizarre tradition than bringing out a terrified ground hog and holding him high in the air for people to cheer at him and then quietly watch, what I consider to be nothing more than a rather large ground squirrel, to see if he looks at his own shadow. Shadows depend on light source, not ground rodents. I may not of graduated high school but I did pay attention in Science class.

For those of you not familiar, a ground hog in a small town in Pennsylvania (Punxsutawney Phil or Phil for short) is supposed to predict our length of winter weather by whether or not he sees his own shadow. Yes, I am being serious. Yes his "predictions" are then broadcast on the news. If he sees his shadow and returns to his hole, it means six more weeks of winter and if he does not then it means an "early spring". It is called Ground Hog Day. This has been a thing since 1887. There is a rather funny Bill Murray movie about it, for further reference.

Now, not to be a negative Nelly but I am highly suspicious of any rodent claiming to predict the weather. First off, good ol' Phil was wrong last year. He predicted an early spring and we instead ended up with one of the worst winters I have ever experienced. We are talking negative 29 degrees Fahrenheit at some points. Um, Phil your predictions suck.

Secondly, I realize that even our own weather people are not accurate. We have all been repeatedly let down by them. In fact, a few weeks ago we were supposed to get a huge winter storm that was going to put us under several inches of snow. Most of us got a dusting. For some of us, not a single flurry was seen.

And it begs to question if a human person with state of the art radar equipment and a weather balloon can not accurately predict winter weather, how the hell can an overweight rodent that lives in the dirt do any better?

And how, pray tell, do we really know what Phil sees anyway? It is not as if he wears top hat and monocle and strokes his handlebar mustache while speaking with a faint French accent, "I have seen my shadow, Monsieur. You shall have much winter this year". He doesn't speak....He is a groundhog. He eats, sleeps, rummages, and poops. He does not hold titillating conversations with humans. Although, he does occasionally bite them.

Believing a rat makes weather predictions makes as much sense as me holding my twenty two pound cat out of the first story window and claiming that if he meows at me, I will win the powerball lottery. It is absolutely ludicrous.

Who the hell knows what he sees. Maybe he sees psychedelic monkeys form the Wizard of Oz swooping down to grab Dorothy and her little dog too. Maybe he sees Julie Andrews dancing on the grassy mountainside singing "The Hills Are Alive With Music". Maybe he sees a giant delicious chocolate cake floating in the sky. I don't know if he sees his own shadow but I do know that what he does see every year on February 2nd is a bunch overly excited people acting oddly and praising an overgrown prairie dog hoping in vain that the dredge we all call Winter will soon cease it's icy precipitation. What Phil sees once a year is whackos. Crazy, nutty, whackos desperate for a little bit of sunlight and a smidge of warmth in the desolace we call February. He sees people that are clinging to a slim thread of the possibility that we may soon walk on the grass without getting snow in our shoes.  That's what he sees.... Desperation. It must be terrifying for him. Poor little guy.

That is a lot of pressure to put on a unsuspecting groundhog that has no idea why he is being carted around and cheered at once a year when all he wanted to do was eat some nuts and sleep in like all the other regular groundhogs get to do on this day.

So, in short Groundhog day is a tradition, albeit a weird and totally inaccurate tradition but a tradition none the less. However, that does not mean that I have to believe that my weather has anything to do with a hairy rodent seeing or not seeing something or rather what we imagine him to have seen out of our own desperation. Because it is silly and frankly, I am too tired to be silly right now.

If a college educated weather man can't accurately predict the weather with all of the gadgets at his disposal, I highly doubt an earth dwelling ground squirrel is going to do much better.....but stranger things have happened. So, we will see.

Neurotic Nelly