New diagnosis???

Hey guys! So I went to a new primary care physician yesterday, and was nervous out of my mind. I don’t do well with change or new doctors. I was definitely surprised when he turned out to be a super understanding mice guy!

On the slip side I talked to him about everything going on and mentioned maybe bipolar could be an option. So here I am bawling my eyes out with fear of a new diagnosis possibility, with so much emotion wondering what would happen next.

He took away a small portion of one of my meds, took one away completely, and added one to replace the one he took away. So get this. I can get orthostatic hypotension when I already have low BP, I can get any of the EPS symptoms, headaches which I get enough as it is.

I hope things work out and this med works. I want to see if this diagnosis of bipolar two with hypomania is real or if it’s just severe major depression. I want to know what will happen and how things will work out, but for now I’ll sit back and wait.

Peace and love friends.

New things

Morning guys, new things are happening! In the past week I’ve committed myself to a workout program that has already pushed my limits, got a tattoo, and promised myself that I would not use filters on my pictures anymore.

Those don’t seem like big things but to me they are. I’m actually excited with this workout program. It’s exciting to workout and feel that sweat. To feel better after every workout and to feel that burn of my muscles working again. I still feel crappy when I can’t get a move down or if I have to take a break. I still have issues with food and meal planning, but I’m trying. I signed up to be a coach and all I worry about now is that no one will want to sign up with me. That they will all just say no or no one reach out to me. So we shall see.

I got a larger tattoo on my forearm that I never thought I’d do. I’m still getting used to it being there when all my other ones are small and not too noticeable. But I like it. And it’s still mental health related. They always will be.

As for no more filters. I’ve always been open and honest about everything. What’s the point of not. I’m just now adding my pictures in with it. No more hiding what I really look like with filters and coverups. It will be something new as I am always wondering what everyone will think, how many likes I’ll get, if someone will have bad comments about it. Guess what? Those things don’t matter, granted my brain will always tell me they do, but the logical side of me will know the truth.

Personally it’s hard logically knowing that there is no reason to be anxious, to be depressed. But my brain chemicals think otherwise. It’s hard to tell my brain to think logically when I’m mid panic attack or major depression episode. It’s hard. Very hard, but I’m working on myself.

If you’re interested go follow my Instagram @ashleyfauke for my fitness journey and all my stories I share there!

Peace and love friends

When you could t feel worse…

You know, I’ve never been one to say that days are “the worst day ever” and I’m still not. But I literally feel like scum. Like dirt.

I’m done guys. Done. I started my workout program which I will be honest was hard and discouraging to my mind. I’m a failure. That’s what my mind tells me. I’m tired of being compared to certain people all the time. I’m tired of a lot. I’m just frustrated with how things are going every day. No matter the exercise no matter the happy things in my life it literally just doesn’t bring happiness. It’s hard and difficult.

Do you ever feel like people are trying to one up you? Trying to be the best person and making you feel like shit? Yeah I’ve got that person. It’s great. Not. It literally makes me feel like I don’t matter and I’m always being judged. Terry doesn’t understand and gets frustrated anytime I mention it. But I literally feel worthless anytime something happens.

I just I’m rambling and making no sense probably. It’s my feelings at this moment. I just want spring break here so I can sleep. Like I literally only want to sleep.

Today I feel…

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Do you ever get those days where you wake up feeling like a shell of a body with nothing in it? Yeah neither do I. Actually, I wake up like this most days.

I went to clinical this morning and just taking care of my patients made my day better, seeing my blog be featured on mentalhealthathome.org. That was an amazing feeling. For those brief moments I felt wonderful. My patients were thankful I helped them today and I had people telling me they were proud of how brave I was to share my story.

Then that nothing feeling set in. It’s like you see or hear something and it just ruins your day. That happens a lot. I felt like I was moving through motions. I had faked laughed with my friends and faked smiles almost all day. I fooled them because you would never guess I was faking.

I shared with my parents about my blog being featured today and I got an ok and a why do you have to share your private stuff with the world. Now guys that hurt. I basically told my mom I’ll only call when I have bland news for them. Today I broke though. I needed my dad. I called him on my way home from clinical. Mind you I do this literally almost every day be it going home from school going or coming home from work. Literally every day. Dad acted like nothing had happened and I didn’t hang up on him the other night out of frustration. We had our conversations. Told him about my day him asking what things meant because he doesn’t speak medical talk. Me asking how the pup was doing because I miss her about as much as I miss my dad. He told me about something I should look up which is a daily thing. Dad made me feel again guys.

Granted this feel again was sadness because I missed him and wished I was closer. Sadness for not having enough time for anything not school or work related. Sadness that I just feel like a failure all the time. But then dad said he loved me first which I normally beat him to it. I had a burst of love shot into my heart as we said goodbye. You bet your butt I sang my heart out loud and proud the rest of the way home.

It’s crazy how a phone call, a talk with someone can change your entire day. The fact I spent most of my day actually wanting to crawl into a hole and die and flipping it to love all because of a conversation with my dad. Yeah I’m a daddy’s girl and I’m okay with that. I shared about my weight loss adventure I’m getting ready to start and he was very interested, even though he asked me like 5 times who Nicole was (my cousin on his side 🤦🏼‍♀️)

I know this blog makes no sense. But my brain doesn’t make sense half the time and I go with it’s flow instead of trying to co trip it. Have a wonderful evening my friends and remember if you need an ear or should or anything I’m always here.

Peace and love ✌🏻💕

Who knows where this will go… life ain’t all sunshine and rainbows…

I have no inspiration no story no nothing to go with this blog. I just need to write and put my shitty feelings out there. I need to feel better and word vomit all over this blog. I have no advice. Nothing that’s probably worth reading, yet here I am typing away. I don’t know if anyone really reads these blogs or even values what I type in them. Honestly I wonder some days if people even value who I am. What I stand for and what I believe in. I wonder why I always feel like throwing up and why I’m crying all the time now. Why I absolutely love my boyfriend but I’m just so stressed and busy the littlest things piss me off. Why I’m here why I’m still breathing. Why I care so much about the people I love and why they don’t seem to care or believe that I care so much about them. I know for damn sure this isn’t a pitty post. And it’s not for you to tell me everything will be okay, because it won’t. Not right now. I honestly don’t know if it ever will be. I wonder why I feel like I need to be locked away and away from people and I wonder how I’m going to be able to take care of people when I can hardly take care of myself most days. Why I let little things cause me panic and anxiety, and why I’m always being compared to literally everyone. Why people can’t understand that mental illness doesn’t just go away like the flu or a cold and why people can’t take no for an answer. Why all of a sudden my PTSD is making my life hell and why I can’t stand being touched anymore when I love hugs. Why I feel worthless and why nothing seems to be right anymore. Why it literally feels like my world is falling apart as I type. Why I just really want to take it out on a punching bag nine times out of ten and why all I can think about it cutting myself.

This is getting deeper and darker as I type and I apologize for anyone who actually reads this.

Too broke for a tattoo so cutting is where my mind goes for pain release. How I feel like just staying at my psych clinical and admitting myself for some kind of evaluation because I don’t know what life is anymore. How I don’t feel loved or wanted really anywhere I go. And how I feel everyone is talking about me everywhere and every time I hear whispers.

Then I’m sitting here wanting to help everyone. My friends my family my patients my clinical patients. How I want to stand up for those who can’t open up and tell their story to those who have been through what I have or worse. I just want to help.

But how does that work? Wanting to cut myself and then wanting to help anyone and everyone? it makes no sense. I make no sense. I’m not reaching out I’m not asking for help. I’m sitting here. Typing my feelings out for the world to see. To understand how ridiculous my brain gets when I have an episode. When I have a meltdown. When I feel the lowest of the low. Life ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. I’m still learning that and realizing that it won’t ever be.

So here’s to you. If you made it through this blog. If you even opened it and just scrolled to the bottom. Welcome to my brain at this very moment.

You can choose to be happy…

For all my mental illness people out there, especially my depression friends. Have you ever been told, “You can just choose to be happy. It’s easy.”? I have many times. Guess what? You can’t, not with a mental illness anyway.

I still remember when I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder and anxiety disorder I was still in OTA school. My friend since grade school had recently killed herself and I was still trying to figure my life out. We were doing our psych class and our teacher said if us or anyone we knew with a disorder would want to come share that would be great. Well me being me I guess I started from the very beginning to be open about everything.

I opened up to my class about it all. My suicide thoughts and half attempts. My notes I had, the feelings I felt and didn’t feel. How difficult it was for me to tell my dad, the man who raised me the past 20 years that I wanted to kill myself and I wanted to go to the doctor. How he cried when I was telling the doctor how horrible life was for me. How he stood by my side even if he didn’t fully understand yet what was happening to me, all the medicine changes already in the short time I was diagnosed. I told it all.

After this we watched a video of someone who had depression and how he wasn’t happy you know those basic educational videos on that stuff. After I had just said my story and we watched this video, a classmate went and said “They can just choose to be happy. That’s easy.”. Welp, you can bet my ass was answering that comment before anyone had the chance. I turned around looked her in the face and flat out said, “if I could choose to be happy I would in a heart beat. It’s not easy to wake and yourself, self you’re going to be happy today.” It doesn’t work that way.

Looking back now I realize that comment was made probably out of being uneducated in the topic or being naive. Either way it wasn’t cool and it shouldn’t have been said. If your friend or loved one is suffering from depression please I beg you don’t tell them they can choose to be happy. Yeah they can smile and laugh but 9 times out of 10 they are probably faking it. I’ve gotten very good at it the past 6 and a half years.

Get educated and be proactive!!

Peace and love my people!

The real life

Imagine, you deal with your mental illness daily, taking medicines, going to the doctor, everything you normally do. Boom, you start nursing school. You go on about your days the way you always have with maybe just a little more stress in your life nothing major out of the ordinary. You sail through first term and second term and everything is fine. Third term is here and you know your are taking psych and have a psych clinical! You are ecstatic because you love all things mental health and can’t wait to learn more. You couldn’t be more wrong

You’re in the first day of your semester, psych clinical day! You are all prepared for this and can’t wait to see what is in store. You have your favorite clinical instructor from last term and have heard good things about your facility. Pre-conference goes well and now it is time to tour the facility. You see how things are kept and how secluded the patients are, thinking to yourself I could have been here, I could have ended up in a place like this if I didn’t get help. Everything fascinates you and you can’t wait to start talking to people and participating in things.

Post conference doesn’t go as well at pre-conference. You start talking about self harm and low and behold you speak up about your cutting episodes and how you understand how you don’t feel anything when you do it, how when you get tattoos it feels wonderful, how all that pain is like taking the emotional pain out of your body. You then tense up and fold into your shell, thinking your classmates and instructor are thinking bad things about you now.

An hour and a half lunch break and you’re free for a little bit. Call dad on the way home to eat lunch and talk about what happened that morning. He makes me feel better and tells me its okay and it will get better. Come home to the boyfriend and you feel safe.

Now, back at school it’s simulation time. You watch the interaction example of what you are supposed to do. The person who is the patient is so believable and the story line is similar to things you have experienced and feelings start to flood your brain. Next thing you know you are crying thinking back to the days you wanted to die, you felt worthless and wanted to kill yourself. It is now time to split into the clinical groups again. You walk out crying telling the instructor you can’t do this, you need to sit out this first round, you can barely get words out and just keep crying. By the second go around you feel more comfortable and ask to do the next round alone.

It actually goes wonderful. You picture yourself sitting in the patient’s seat and talk to the patient like you would want someone to talk to you if you came into the clinic feeling this way. It made things so much easier and it flowed so well. You have never felt more relaxed in your life. By the end of the day you are exhausted and feel like you’ve had the wind knocked out of you but you made it. One day down a few more weeks to go until the next clinical starts.

Guys, yesterday was so hard for me. So many emotions filled my head and I felt defeated, but you know what? I got back up and excelled. I didn’t let it get me down and make me fail the day. I know I’m stronger than I feel and hopefully as the weeks go by it gets a little easier.

Peace and love my people

Warning: enter at your own risk. Abuse

I’m going to give you a glimpse into the worst 5 years of my life. My emotional, mental, and sexual abuse. My terrors, my fears, how screwed up my brain was. All I ask is that you enter this with an open mind and don’t be quick to judge. This is tough for me to share.

8 years ago I was starting college, new friends, new people, new everything. I was quiet stuck to my classes and band and basically did what I did in high school, I just sat back. Then I met a guy. We got along so well. We became quick friends. I knew he had a girlfriend and that was fine. I had no interest in him.

Somehow he managed to change that. We went out for lunch between classes on day and the next thing I know is he’s grabbing my boobs across the seat in the car. Completely took me by surprise. Legit I never had a guy interested in me. This was different. Weird. I knew it didn’t feel right. But he knew what to say and what to do to make me forget he had a girlfriend and he basically got me on a string doing whatever he wanted.

Fast forward a little bit and here I am pushing away my family and my friends to hang out with him. He kept telling me he would leave his girlfriend or if I did something sexual I would be the one he picked. I know what you’re thinking, you know better ashley you wouldn’t do that. Well you’re wrong. I did anything and everything he asked to be picked to be the one wanted. I didn’t realize what he was doing to me until it was too late.

By year 3 into 4 I was starting to realize that he wasn’t going to pick me and I needed to move on. Let me tell you when I say I’ve never seen someone be so mad for me just talking to a guy I mean it. I was threatened. I was punished. He made me believe that I couldn’t survive without him. So what did I do, I stuck with him. I apologized multiple times a day for things I don’t even know why. I started thinking that I was the worst person alive. I was bullied online by him and his girlfriend who to this day has no idea he cheated on her basically their whole relationship. I was bullied by her cousins who didn’t even know me.

Year 5 comes along and I’ve had enough. I actively started looking for a way out. This is when things got scary. I was still hanging out with him. Going to his house. After 5 years I was being used for sex, multiple times a day almost every week. I got to the point where I would tell him no and he thought it was a game. That I was trying to turn him on more. I wasn’t enjoying any of it at all. I fought and he thought it was part of the game.

Then I met Terry. My Godsend. I had to lie my “friend” that I was talking to him and hanging out with him. But he found out one night because he drove past my apartment, which I found out later he did every day to make sure I was were I said I was. Well when he saw a new car with mine he flipped shit on me. He threatened me, told me Terry only wanted me for sex. Didn’t care about me like him.

Guys I stood up, stood up for myself. What I should have done way before. I told him never to text me again. I told him to leave me alone and what I do is none of his business. He kept trying to tell me that I was a slut and that I was worthless and continued to threaten me. Finally, finally after two months of talking to Terry I got him to leave me alone.

Now three years later, I’m still bothered by what happened. I’m not better, I’m not over what happened. Certain things trigger memories and it’s like PTSD. He’s married to that same girlfriend doing whatever with his life. I literally haven’t thought about him in years. It took awhile but I finally pushed him out of my head.

I have Terry, my family back close to me, my friends. I never want what happened to me happen to someone else. I’ve gotten stronger, yet weaker. I’m more depressed and anxious as ever and have horrible separation anxiety. I still apologize non stop but it’s getting better. Remember friends this was hard for me to share, so kind thoughts only.

Peace and love

Fighting alone?

Picture this:

You are in a room all alone no doors only two small windows to look out of. There’s no one to talk to, no matter where you turn you are alone. You yell for help and no one seems to hear you, not even from those tiny windows. The next thing you know you have thoughts flying at you, saying you’re not good enough, no one is there for you, you have no friends, your family is ashamed of you. Despite the windows and the little light shining through all you see is darkness. You see no way out. You start to go crazy with thoughts of killing yourself, of how wonderful it would feel not hurting anymore. How one cut makes the pain less painful, then another and another until you’ve got multiple gashes in your arms. You believe that there is no one to help you and that there never will be.

Want to know what you just pictured? My brain on some of my worst days.

Now picture this:

You’re on the outside of that dark room now. Surrounded by people laughing and joking. Out in the bright sunshine. You go to parties and are “smiling”. You go to family gatherings and say everything is alright. You participate. You laugh you live. People tell you they understand that they are there for you. You look back into those tiny windows and see that dark place again. Taunting you, telling you those people are lying. That no one actually will be there for you when it gets tough. That you will have to always fight this alone. You keep pushing through day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute until you can be alone again in that dark place. That dark place sucks you in and holds you there with no end in sight. You get glimpses of the outside of those people who care about you. Your brain just doesn’t let you believe it. How many times you’ve been hurt, how many people have let you down. You just don’t ever feel like anyone is actually there for you.

Guys, that’s real life for me and I’m sure I’m not the only one. I feel like I’m fighting a battle alone despite the love and support I get from my family, Terry, and his family. From my work family, and my friends. No matter what goes on in the light of the world, that dark place is always there to pull me back just enough to keep making me feel hopeless, to feel defeated. It fluctuates everyday. Some days I know I’ve got my support system and others I feel like there’s no one left on this planet but me.

Some days I feel like my feelings get pushed off like they don’t matter. Heck I’ve had people walk away from me awkward because I’ve gotten upset about talking about a sensitive issue. Sometimes I feel like the only way to survive the outside world is to lie. To say I’m okay. To smile and laugh and pretend that my life is going great. Don’t get me wrong there are portions of my life that are absolutely wonderful. They just get pushed away by that darkness.

Things have happened a lot these past couple months. And I need to be more consistent with my blogs. I need to push the acceptance of mental health as an issue that needs to be seen and treated and talked about. Under-diagnosing is a thing. Not fully treating is a thing. Heck, sometimes I don’t even know how to explain to my doctor what’s going on that I don’t know if I’m getting the right treatment. I do know though. I am not alone. I do not fight alone. There is a whole community fighting for their lives daily, struggling to wake up, get out of bed, and do life. We are the community of mental health and we deserve to be treated like anyone else with a physical illness.

It’s no laughing matter to joke oh I’m depressed because my favorite show ended. No you’re sad that your favorite show ended. Im depressed because I feel like I’m alone in this world, have been abused and traumatized and I just want to die. That’s depressed. There are two different meanings between depressed and sad. I’ve heard so many people joke about being depressed I’ve wanted to say so badly, would you really like to see what that’s like? Do you want to see my scars?

Too many people that I care about have been or are being affected by these illnesses everyday including myself. It hurts me that all I can do is sit here as write these blogs. I can’t make you read it, I can’t make you fight for your life. I can however educate, speak up for those who are too afraid to do it themselves, and stand beside those who need someone to lean on.

Be a supporter, lover, fighter, caregiver, friend to those you know might need one. You never know what goes on in the darkness of others. Just be mindful and considerate.

That’s all for now my friends, peace and love ✌🏻💕

Down days

Some days you wake up happy and bubbly and not a care in the world. Other days you wake up feeling worthless and like nothing can go right. I have more of the latter days.

Today I wake up for my night shift and I automatically feel like crap. I feel a panic attack coming on and I just want to cry. All within a couple minutes of waking up! I didn’t even have time to think it just was. Of course I text Terry telling him I need him. He’s my rock my one thing that gets me through my bad days.

I take my medicine and I try to go on with my day. I try to be happy I try to have a happy face. Most times it doesn’t work. You can tell I’m just not myself. Get me around my kiddos though and I’m great. I love my kids and their faces really do make my day brighter.

Those bad feelings never really go away. They don’t get better. I try. I really do. But no matter what I do or how hard I try it just doesn’t work. I always feel anxious even in familiar situations. It’s not easy it never will be easy. But I just keep going every day. Trying my hardest to make it through to make it another 24 hours around the sun.

I’m here for you friends if you need a shoulder.

Peace and love ✌🏻💕