Insomnia and Being A PureO.....

Some things have been going on lately, making it hard to sleep. The night is my worst enemy. It is too quiet. It is too long. And my brain starts to thinking it's most when it is quiet and too long. I can't clean to occupy myself because everyone is asleep. There is nothing on television to mindlessly space out and stare at. No music to distract myself from myself because to do that the music would have to be loud enough to drown out my thoughts and my thoughts are very very loud.  I could have read but I was feeling too lazy. I could have written but the words wouldn't come to me. So, I just laid there praying to get exhausted enough to override my own mind. I just laid there and listened to the silence. Well, at least I think it was silence in the background of all of my thoughts.....I am not completely sure.

Insomnia blows.

I am so tired right now.

I will get over it, probably.



Please take few seconds to check out my new video about being a PureO. Thanks, and I promise to write a better post next Tuesday.

Neurotic Nelly

Messed Up.....

I took a blog hiatus for my last two blogging days. It has been a mixture of things that have left me exhausted, overwhelmed, and incapable of processing all of my thoughts on paper.

Basically, my OCD has come to a head. I couldn't figure out just what was causing it. Could be my husband's new job, or Christmas coming up, or all of the online school things I am responsible for, or the weather...but honestly all of these things have been going on before my OCD decided to kick into full fledged panic. No, there has to be something else that I just can't handle at face value.

You see, how my OCD works is that when something is stressful, instead of me reacting to said stressful thing with stress, I go numb about it. As a result of the stress I should be feeling, my OCD kicks into overdrive. If bills should be the cause of my stress, my OCD brain will go numb to the fear of not being able to pay them and start concentrating on whether a small pain in my side is cancer. I get anxiety about the thing that isn't real and not about the things that are.

I often compare it to Dissociative Identity Disorder. Not that I have more than one personality, I don't. But that when a person with DID comes across a situation the main person can not handle a different person takes their place so they can cope. My OCD is very much like that when it is triggered. Instead of me dealing with whatever is stressing me out, my OCD reacts instead of me reacting. I can't handle dealing with whatever is triggering me, so my OCD numbs me to it only to stress me out about something I know is not very likely. Almost like it is some defunct coping mechanism.

It makes no sense and it is not helpful to me at all but that is what is going on with me lately.

In my last few blog posts I have been more angry and less positive. I mean, my blog isn't always going to be happy and inspiring. I am a real person, not some robot. My blog is usually positive but that doesn't mean it is always going to be rainbows and unicorn farts. Sometimes it will be sad, or painful, or glum. It happens. My life happens and let's face it, sometimes my life can be sad, painful, and glum.

 So, I took stock in the things that were changing around me to try and figure out what has gotten me in such a state I am unable to even sleep properly and it hit me. Two weeks ago......two weeks ago I asked about my Aunt's autopsy results. It has been two months and we still have no idea what she died from. I still haven't been able to grieve but I feel it bubbling up inside me. It just won't come out. I have tried and tried to make it come to the surface but I feel almost like it is jammed up. Like the flow of my emotions are dammed up with anger, frustration, broken promises, wet newspaper, and little bits of straw. I can feel the current moving underneath my skin and I am hopeful that the autopsy results will give me the answers I seek and in turn  unleash the damn and let the stagnant emotions free. The stench of the black water that is my emotions is literally making me feel insane. I need to be able to understand, to acknowledge, to breath again. I feel like I am drowning in it. I am praying that this little printed piece of paper can unwind my ties to it. That it will finally allow me to grieve. That I can finally stop waiting to feel again and start to heal.

Everyday I wait for my mother to call me and tell me what some medical examiner found in my Aunt's body. I don't know how to feel about her being cut open and dissected, so I feel nothing at all. It is necessary but still it is hard for me to put into words the oddness of talking about a paper that describes her like some specimen in a jar. That the person they are describing by organ weight is the same woman that taught me that I should put perfume behind my ears not on my neck, or how to play gin rummy and never lose , or that there is, in fact, such a thing as a panty line and that people do actually notice such things. (Well, I don't but apparently other people do.)

I know I should be devastated and yet everyday I sit both eager and horrified to know just what happened. I need to know. I can't accept not knowing, and honestly I don't think I can let her go till I do know and yet I am terrified to know all at the same time. I fear I have blocked up my emotions so high and let that dam get so big that when it finally bursts it may actually take me down with it and drown me in it's sorrow. I feel so inadequate. I feel so broken. I feel so numb and yet agitated. So helpless. So emotionally stunted. So desperate and yet not caring equally. I am an emotional ball of raw nerve endings and burnt out electrical impulses. In all honesty, I have never felt so crazy in my entire life as I do right now.

So after waiting on pins and needles and anxious nausea, I just found out that the reason it hasn't come in the mail yet is because they just mailed it....last night.  And now God knows how many more of days of this I am going to have sit through. I am guessing three or four. I really have no idea. Anyway, that is why I haven't written. I am just so broken right now. I am not sure that anything I am doing makes very much sense. And when I feel this completely messed up, my writing suffers with it. I plan to write on Tuesday as usual. Maybe by then I will have some answers and be in a better mental state. I hope you all are doing well. Sending positive thoughts your way....


Neurotic Nelly

Driven to Distraction.....

I took a hiatus. I had to, really. The stress of all that was going on was overwhelming me and although I find writing to be therapeutic, there comes a time when writing it is reliving it and I had already been reliving it over and over and over again. Such is OCD. The broken record that just keeps spinning. Same song, same hitches in the record, same grooves of the needle being etched into my memory. Each time the anxiety and stress reaches the same exact level. Thirty times a day, forty maybe? It was too much and since I aspire to be positive, I just couldn't stomach writing one more post in that constant state of fear. I wanted to be less of a Negative Nelly and more of the usual Neurotic one. I wanted to write again when the storms in my mind had calmed. When my words were more than just jumbled obscenities and the sputterings of a mad woman loosing her ability to function. I mean I am a mad woman but today I am functioning. Sorta. Good enough to write again anyways.

This week I wanted to stop feeling so upset, so tense, so sick to my stomach with anxiety that I did something I learned as a child. Distraction. I was driven to distraction. I actually used my OCD to distract my OCD. Sounds crazy right? (see mad woman above). The truth is that I am used to  the cleanliness OCD symptoms and I know how they work. Sometimes when I am "obsessing" about something, I simply turn that obsession into a different obsession. It doesn't always work but sometimes it does and those few rare times, I am truly grateful when it does. Instead of worrying about all of the crap going on with my son's school or my doctor, I simply started obsessing over the cleanliness of my home. It sounds strange, but the cleaning of those of us that have that symptom, really is just a distraction anyway. We clean to distract the voice from telling us everything is dirty. Same principal, except I was able to obsess about cleaning or sprucing up my home, rather than listen to the intrusive thoughts and stressful mental replays of what else had been going on. And the best part was I did something that both calms me and fills the "cleanliness" need. I painted.

 I love house paint. The smell reminds me of a fresh start. Not just a new color or look but a clean one. No smudges, nor dirt. Everything can simply be painted over and made new again. And I love it. I love the power of just slapping a fresh coat of paint and refreshing everything. It feels like....like....taking on the world. Well, the OCD world anyway.

So instead of sitting around and "ruminating" about the things I am stressed out, I would simply get up and start painting. I have done the baseboards and doors. The oldest child's room. It fills the need of accomplishing things. It makes the house look clean and fresh. It allows my house to finally be u to my strange mad woman OCD standards and most of all, and probably most important, it has distracted me from reliving the pain, frustration, and anxiety of these last few days. I mean painting something is an instant result kind of transaction. Dealing with the things I have been are not. Sometimes it is nice to have an instantaneous result for once. And because of the distraction I was able to go out with my kids and husband and actually enjoy a day out without feeling overwhelmed and upset over things I have no control over. It was simply sublime. And so far this week seems to be following the weekend's happy trend.

So, in conclusion, the mad woman is back. Maybe not any less mad but at least a tad bit less stressed and certainly with a fresher looking house. I am ready to start writing more positively now and I hope you can forgive my little pitty party/distraction/hiatus. I am glad to be back and I hope to be back on schedule.

Neurotic Nelly

What It Means To Me

Yesterday was horrible. It started out pretty good until the hospital called to remind me about my outpatient surgery on Wednesday. That call threw me into a tailspin of anxiety and I was doing my best to not have a panic attack. Thankfully I had a nice long conversation with a friend that calmed me down. Well, at least till the phone call ended, anyway. Then I opened my email to see that Google+ doesn't like my name. Apparently Neurotic was tagged as not a real last name. They wanted me to change it or prove that many people know be by this name. I sent them all that I could website wise and I truly hope that it is enough to keep my name.
Kind of a weird post but since there is no text box allowing you to tell them why you want to use the name you have chosen I thought I would write a post about it in letter form. Not that I believe they will read it but more for a personal closure.

Dear Google+,

I understand that the name Nelly Neurotic was tagged as a name that you don't feel is my true name. The truth is it is. Nelly Neurotic is a part of me. A very important part of me that has stayed in the shadows all of my life. I have struggled with mental illness since childhood. This has cost me jobs, friends, relationships, education, and activities that I might have been able to participate in if my mental illness had not gotten in the way. Through blogger I was able to make my voice, which has always been silenced, heard. I found a community and net work of people that are just like me. I joined google + because it was an option for my blogs to be more easily accessed and I fell in love with it. I have found many friends and many acquaintances that have helped me grow not only as a person but a person with mental illness. I have been in terrific communities and even developed the courage to make one of my own.
Mental illness is a very hard thing to discuss with the general public. Many have false preconceived notions and ideas of what mental illness is like. I believe that to change that we have to stand up and talk openly about our issues and erase the stigma that surrounds them. I have written my blog posts and used my twitter accounts under the name Nelly Neurotic because she is every bit the part of me that I have had to hide most of my life. I chose the last name neurotic because had this been an earlier time my diagnoses would have been neurosis. Had this been an earlier time it wouldn't matter what my name was anyway, because the people that suffered from mental illness were not treated as humans most of the time.
It is reported that fifteen people commit suicide because of mental illness every ten minutes. It is reported that  in America alone we loose about twenty two veterans a day due to suicide because of the mental illnesses depression and PTSD. I am not a veteran but I do understand the pain they are going through. The sad part is is that suicide is preventable with the correct treatment and support. Many do not get that treatment or support because of the stigma and shame that surround us. People with mental illness are often ostracized, made fun of, laughed at, bullied, stigmatized, belittled, and shamed. We are often denied the right to be treated as equals. We are cast aside like we are dirty and unworthy. We are told that we can not be productive. That we can not achieve what we dream. That we are second class citizens. Many times there is more funding for things like streetcars and sports stadiums than there is for the help and treatment of mental illness. No one wants to talk about it. Everyone is afraid of it. It makes people uncomfortable.
Many of us who have suffered have had things stripped from us by other's such as a sense of dignity (being placed in restraints), a sense of self worth ( being referred to as crazy or psycho), our freedom ( discriminated against). Not only do we suffer immense pain, despair, frustration, and agony, but we also face the stigma that has been perpetuated in every inch of our lives.
Writing in my blogs and in google+ has changed my life. Where once I was silent, now I stand. It has given me back my self esteem, a feeling of self worth, and my dignity. Everyone that reads my blogs, my tweets, my guest posts, and my google + comments knows me as Nelly Neurotic. They are familiar with me and they know that I am not there to sell them mops, jewelry, or cleaning supplies. They know that when they see my name I am standing up for mental illness and doing my part to erase stigma. If you take away my name or force me to create some other page or use Nelly Neurotic as a nick name you are effectively crippling the work I have painstakingly done for the last five months. You are erasing my integrity as a mental health advocate, and blogger. You are taking away from me more than just a moniker. You are taking away my readers, my search name, and the joy I have from helping others on my pages. Nelly Neurotic in some ways is more important a name to me than then one I was bestowed when I was born. Because I was born with a mental illness. Because I stand up for mental illness. Because I write and blog for those that have yet to stand up and be counted. I spread the word, as so many wonderful mental health and mental illness advocates and bloggers do, of inspiration and acceptance.  I write about learning to love yourself because people that suffer from mental illness have a hard time even looking in the mirror. We are taught that we are less than human and that is unacceptable. Stripping me of something that is so much more than a username or pseudonym is unacceptable. I matter, my words matter, what I am doing matters and the name I choose to use to do it with  matters. I am offering hope. I am offering a sense of awareness. Most of all I am letting those out there afraid to speak up know that they are not alone.
I am not on google+ to sell or buy things. I am not on google+ to meet people I already know or hook up with old friends. I am on google+ as an advocate and a blogger. I am on google+ as a mental illness sufferer. So many of us are there for greater purposes than you realize. We are trying to change the world one post at a time. We are trying to raise awareness and acceptance. Too many people suffer in silence needlessly. Too many people all over the world commit suicide due to lack of treatment, lack of understanding, and the fear of being judged and belittled.
So you see, Nelly Neurotic is more than just a name to me. It is a representation of all that I stand for. If you strip me of that representation than I lose so much more than time and energy and a catchy name. I lose the people that I could have reached out to. I lose my blog name that a good amount of people follow and view. I lose the very part of myself that has been silenced for so long. Losing my name silences me again. It forces me to be something I am not.  Please don't silence me and take away my progress. Please allow me to keep the name that I have used on my blogs, my twitter, my guest posts, and with my google+ friends. Please allow me to keep representing myself as I see myself. My name is Nelly Neurotic and my name matters to me. It matters to my blogs, my readers, my followers, and it matters to my self esteem. There is great power in a name. Please don't take away mine. Thank you.