Monthly Archives: June 2015

Rehab and Mexico

Jamie arrived at rehab eight days ago. I went to Mexico nine days ago and arrived home two days ago.

It was easier to stand to not talk to her when I was in Mexico.
I think, that so much of my depression and so much of depression itself is being left alone with your thoughts.
When I was in Mexico, I was constantly doing things. There wasn’t a moment where I was left alone. I was constantly doing things with my family —snorkeling, zip lining, laying by the beach. Sure, there would be moment where I would think, “damn, I miss Jamie a lot.” but it wasn’t to the point where I would cry. I didn’t feel the depression at all when I was in Mexico. and it wasn’t like the times where I’m cycling and I’m feeling good because I’m on a high rather than a low. I felt normal. I felt like how someone is supposed to feel.
But now I’m at home, with nothing to do and I am alone. I am alone and everything reminds me of Jamie and it is hard to not cry and break down several times a day. The sadness is overwhelming.
and I think, “shut the fuck up, Monica. This is what you wanted. You wanted Jamie to get better. Now shut the fuck up and deal with it.”
and I know that Jamie isn’t just off doing something “bad” and I know that we are still very much together. I know that Jamie is gone because they have an addiction and they are trying to get better. But I just feel so alone. I wish I could even talk to them. But yesterday was our anniversary and we haven’t talked in eight days.
I make myself sick with worry.
I feel very selfish. I am very selfish. But I always have been. But wouldn’t anyone else feel the same?
I ask myself, “how much more can you take?”


My parents might be getting divorced.My dad has anger issues.

He refuses to go to marriage counseling,
In a way, I guess I understand because in Mexico, mental health is something that is disregarded.

I just wish he wouldn’t see it as something unnecessary. Because he is breaking our family apart.
In many ways, my parents are getting divorced because of the fights that they have that have to do with me. Whether it is my mental health, my schooling, my relationships, how I present myself, etc.

My mom is always the one defending me.
Three weeks ago, my dad got angry at me because I refused to break up with my girlfriend. He was tolerant before but my girlfriend came out as a trans woman, my dad saw the Facebook post, and demanded that I break up with her.

I said no.

He didn’t talk to me for weeks.

Just last week, he gradually began talking to me again and supporting me financially. We were still not really on good terms but we were on “decent” terms, I guess. We didn’t talk much but I would show him something cool and he’d laugh. Or he’d give me money for gas. We would travel in the same vehicle. Things like that. 
Two days ago, he got unreasonably angry with all of my family. It started off because my family goes on vacation each year. We are supposed to go on vacation in two weeks but haven’t decided where. We usually go to Mexico every other year and so we were due. But we don’t have the funds for it so we decided to go other places.

My mom was talking to him about vacations and how next year, we should try to go to Mexico. My dad got defensive and said no. Then, when he finally agreed, my mom said that we would have to go when it is her break from school. My dad said back, “well I’ll just go by myself then.”
That isn’t the way we do things in our family. We always do things together. So of course my mom got angry. And then my dad got angry because he took it as my mom trying to control him. But he was being unfair.
We were on our way shopping so then, he went to a store while we all stayed in the car. He accidentally broke my moms glasses by putting his arm on them.


I said, “dad, the right thing to do is to say sorry. These things can be fixed but you need to say sorry.”

He didn’t respond.
He was bitter the entire time else when we were all shopping. He would walk either faster or slower than the rest of us so he wouldn’t be associated with us.
Finally, towards the end of our trip shopping, we went to the grocery store. My mom bought us all ICEE’s because it was a hot day. My mom had been trying to be nice to my dad all day just so our shopping trip wouldn’t be ruined. 

So she got an ICEE for my dad too.
I was walking to the car, four ICEE’s in my arms. My dad was sulking in the drivers seat. I managed to open the passenger seat and I said, here dad we got you one.

He said, I don’t want it.

I asked, ok but can you at least grab it, they’re falling out of my arms

So I reached over, and put the two ICEE’s in each drink container. And he said WHAT DID I JUST SAY.

I responded with, “who said it was for you!!”

We then all got into the car, and just before he started up the car against he suddenly turned back to me, pointed his finger at me and yelled, “if you ever respond to me like that I will hit you.”
I cried and bawled and said through sobs “I only wanted you to hold it [the icee].”

My brother and mom started telling him that was not ok.

My mom said, “if you even lay a finger on her, you’ll see what happens.”

My dad responded, “oh yeah? What are you going to do about it?”

She responded with, “I will call the police.”
Silence the ride back home.
When my dad told me three weeks ago that I meant nothing to him, I guess he was right, and those words are still ringing in my ears.
But I can’t help but wonder, why is he being like this? Everything was fine before I left for college last September. It just seems so sudden. I mean, my parents and I got in fights but it never lasted weeks like it has been recently. They were usually over within a week. 
It saddens me. Because I know my parents are going to get divorced. But since my dad and I aren’t on good terms, when would I ever visit him?

So many questions racing through my mind. So many feelings that my heart can’t stand. 

Naive, Sheltered.

I grew up thinking, “love conquers all.”

But that isn’t the case with drug addiction.
I grew up naive, and sheltered. A closeted queer brown girl in a predominantly white neighborhood.
I talk to my therapist about my girlfriend’s addiction. and she asks me, “are they different in any way? has their personality changed?”
And that’s the hard part. Because they haven’t. They’re still the exact same person they were as when I first started dating them.
And it’s hard because if they were any different, it would be easy to let them go. It would be easy to forget about them. It would be easy to cut contact.
But it’s not like that. And i’m still so hopelessly in love. Hoping and praying every day that things will get better.
It’s like I have a cut. and as it is healing, everything is fine. scar tissue is building up. But it keeps being cut open and healing and then cut again. an endless cycle. That is the best description I could give of my girlfriend’s addiction.
She abuses, and then goes for a couple days without doing it. Everything is good and perfect in those days. We will even see each other and it is normal. But then she relapses. And it hurts so fucking bad.
Scar tissue on my heart.
My therapist asks, “what do you think is causing you harm? why do you think you’re depressed and what are your stressors?”
I answer with my family, school, my body issues. But i can’t bring myself to say that Jamie is causing me harm. I can’t bring myself to even mutter the words under my breath.
Everything is excruciatingly painful when you’re not only losing grasp and losing control of your own life, but also losing grasp of the person you love most.


I have been taking medication for two weeks now and I am starting to feel the effects of it.

I was on a lot of medication in the past, and I stopped taking everything in November of 2014. I was continually forgetting to take it and so I decided to just cut, cold-turkey. I felt really good for maybe three months but then started feeling really, really bad again. Thinking back, I was probably cycling. Do cycles even last that long?
Anyway. I have been on fluoxetine (prozac) and lamictal (lamotrigine) for two weeks now. Prozac is for depression and lamotrigine is used as a mood stabilizer. I feel the effects because I am feeling a little better. I don’t feel as erratic and am able to stay calm in stressful situations (though I exhibit the normal levels of anxiety).
One of my old psychiatrists once told me that things could get better for me. She said, “who knows, maybe someday you won’t have to take any medication!”
But I don’t think that will ever be the case for me. I think that I will always have to take something just to stay sane. Therapy is not enough. Exercise is not enough. Vitamins are not enough.
However, with “feeling better,” this does not mean feeling content or happy for me. It means that I don’t feel the depression and sadness as much. I feel apathetic or numbed out. Which is what I hated last time but I guess I don’t mind it this time.
My mom says that there is no magic pill. That no pill will fix me. But what else can I turn to when I already do everything recommended by doctors?