Sometimes It Really Is Just Depression And Not A BPD Moment

Things that were not on my March 2021 bingo card. In order of occurrence.

Posted on by kmarrs

Showing up at the ER with a hemoglobin of 4. I should be dead.

Being cured of cancer.

Tests are back. Sure enough it was cancer.

Zachary regressing in behavior because I was gone a week.

Putting my 9yo on suicide watch. I don’t want to talk about it. Yet. She’s getting help.

Taking an emergency trip to Indy to rescue an adult adopted child from a deadly medical emergency. I’m out of work right now anyway. Indy is only 3 hours away. The government handed me gas money. The 9yo is going with me. I leave Monday.

Leaving a cult. I do not wish to talk about it.

Being this fucking tired. Like. So tired.

Treading Water

Posted on by kmarrs

Things at the new job are… going.

I love the job in general. I love what I’m doing. I’m fully on board to helping people get their eyes checked and into new glasses. I see it as a vital service. So that’s cool.

I really like 95% of my new coworkers. But…

See, my boss, the office manager, gives off the vibe of being the type of girl who bullied me in 6th grade. I got that vibe pretty much within the first few days. But I filed it away and ignored it because this isn’t middle school, surely she’s grown and matured. Right?

Well, one bright and sunny Thursday afternoon she pulled me into her office and ripped me a new one. For 15 minutes she just piled on complaint after complaint. Told me everything in my moral character, and a few job-related things, that were fundamentally in need of serious change.

And I don’t mean BPD stuff. Or even autism stuff.

My favorite example is my hair. I interviewed for the job in need of my hair being buzzed again. Not fully on purpose, but I only buzz it every 3-4 months anyway and was only just barely overdue. But I figured since I was job hunting, it could wait a bit. I mean, I got the bank job years ago with a freshly buzzed head, but you never know.

Anyway, I got the job and immediately read the employee handbook when it came to appearance and nothing at all was mentioned about hair. This is a handbook that forbid us from eating garlic with our lunch, that’s now meticulous it was, but not a word on hair.

To be safe, I went into work my first day, with hair an inch or two long, and asked her directly what the policy was. I explained I keep my hair super short, that what she was currently seeing was on the long end of the spectrum, and that if there was no official policy, I would be buzzing my head in the next few days. I did my best to get across how short it would be, but let’s face it, it was only an inch or so long at the time, so clearly we were talking short. She said she’d speak to the regional and get back to me. By the end of that first day, I had the official thumbs-up to buzz my hair.

So I did.

Now some 8 weeks later I’m learning that they had no idea how short I intended. What’s worse, a couple of patients have asked me if I have cancer. I have simply answered that my hair was a personal choice and steered conversation right back to their eye appointment at hand, all in a matter of 30 seconds. HOWEVER, those two patients asking me that means my hair is officially a workplace distraction and she feels she now has ground to dictate how I keep my hair. Mind you, if I passed as a man, this would not be an issue. We actually have a male optician with a similar cut.

While I took most of what she had to say to me to heart and will work on changing the things in the name of keeping my job, and some of them were 100% valid. I want to be upfront about that. Some of them were 100% valid things that I need to work on. I am not taking her word as the final word about my hair.

See, my hair ties into my disability. I can not have hair that is long enough to touch my face, neck, or ears. I have sensory issues.

So I have very politely went over her head to HR to ask what the official policy is on hair length if there even is one. I gave her the full story and I did mention that me buzzing my hair ties into a disability, which makes me a protected class. I did not name the disability. I said I elected not to as it did not otherwise affect my ability to perform my job. If pushed, I’ll fess up to sensory issues. I’ll blame the fibromyalgia (nerves misfiring), not the autism. I will not ever disclose I’m autistic.

We’ll see where this goes.

That particular Thursday was a really rough day and while I held my shit together to finish out the day, I did cry myself to sleep that night. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she’d mentioned even a couple of the bits of my job I’m doing well in. Because I know I’m overall really good at my job.

I know this because she was not at work the next day and my coworkers who knew something was up and got bits and pieces out of me have all rallied around me and told me I’m doing a fantastic job, I’m likable, and that boss lady is like that with everyone.

So anyway, I’m going to hang in there. I’ll keep my head low. Do my absolute best. Change the few behaviors that I recognize need to be changed. (Such as they are patients, not customers. I get that right 80% of the time, but I need to fix that other 20%.)

I think this job is going to work out. I really do. I can survive a boss who doesn’t like me, and doesn’t hide that fact, when in general I like everything else about the job.

Oh, and I do have some awesome job perks to report. I’ll talk about those in the next post. This post deserves some happy news, but it’s already getting long.

Do What You Can

Posted on by kmarrs

This started as a Twitter thread, so you might have seen it there, but I want to expand upon it, and I want to do that here, in long form.

Sambam is at that age where it’s fun to do chores that aren’t her own.
Ask her to clean her room? It’s the end of the world. Try to do dishes (my chore) without her help? Also the end of the world. I let her help until (if) she gets bored then I let her move on. And when it comes to her room (her chore), once a day I set an egg timer for 10 minutes and tell her to do what she can but once the timer rings, she can be done.

In reality, all her room ever really needs is that 10 minutes a day, and usually, it’s done in 5. But instead of overwhelming her by the limitless “clean your room”, I redirect it into a clear time frame with a set beginning and end. And reframe the word “spotless” into “do what you can”. This allows an overwhelming task to feel manageable. Possible. And I get a much better end result. In 10 (5) minutes, instead of the 10 days, it used to take.


Now she is happy to do her chores. Is excited (bossy) to help me with mine. And our relationship has a lot less stress in it. She is my heart and is growing into a functional and happy and beautiful young lady!


(Also, her hands are seeing work for the first time and she earned a tiny blister she’s very proud of. She worked herself on the dishes far harder than I would have worked her. But she was having fun.)


Do what you can.

That is just such an important concept!

So many of us are sick in one way or another. Mental health, chronic physical health. So many of us are spoonies. And when you are a spoonie, being given an open ended task like, “clean your room” or “vacuum the carpets” can seem so overwhelming.

I’ve seen this concept stated in many ways by many people, but I’m going to work it my way and see what happens.

Your bathroom is a mess? Start with the clutter around the sink. Put everything on the counter in its place. Now wipe it down. Out of spoons or otherwise need to move on? You did what you can. You’re free to go. But be proud of what you did! Tomorrow you can tackle the toilet.

Not out of spoons and the counter looks great but you want to do a little more? Go for it! Nothing is stopping you. Do what you can for 10 minutes. 15 minutes. Stop when you need to stop. Continue on when you have the spoons and will.

Vacuum one room a day. Look. I get it. Pushing the vacuum around takes a lot of spoons. So just get your living room. Or your office. Or the one room that needs it the most. Do what you can.

Writing a paper for class and it needs to be 6 pages and that feels overwhelming? Well, unless it’s due in like an hour, write the introduction and walk away from it for awhile. Go do the dishes. Get a snack. Just walk away. But while you do so, work the paper around in your head. After 15 minutes, come back to the computer and get down what your brain tossed around. Polish it. Add a little more. Just until it starts to get a little overwhelming again, or right before, then walk away again for awhile. No one said you have to write the entire paper in one day, unless you procrastinated. Take your time with it. Take little bites as you can. Bit by bit those 6, 10, 20 pages will form.

Do what you can.

Don’t ever berate yourself for not having what it takes to <insert task here> in one go. But don’t just do nothing either. Idleness won’t help. It’ll only make you overwhelmed with the task in general.

Back to Sammy.

We used to just tell her to clean her room spotless and, especially to a young child, that was the single most horrible thing we could have done (aside from actual child abuse, I acknowledge). To her little mind, it was the end of the world because it was so overwhelming. So one day I set an egg timer for 10 minutes and told her to do what she could. As long as she actually worked for the full 10 minutes, just putting away what caught her eye, or whatever was closest, or no method to the madness, just honest cleaning… whatever the end result was, she just needed to work for 10 minutes. I figured 10 minutes a day for a week, and we might have a spotless room.

But she bloomed. Suddenly she didn’t have to clean indefinitely. She had a clear and solid end insight. So instead of letting it build up in her mind into this huge overwhelming task, and accomplishing nothing at all (or worse… continuing to play and letting it get messier)…

The entire room took her about 5 minutes and she bragged about it. It wasn’t an ordeal. It wasn’t overwhelming. It was 10 (5) minutes worth of honest effort, end results be damned, and the end results were amazing. Better than what usually resulted in 10 days worth of tears and frustration, and mostly procrastinating.

I have executive dysfunction. It’s paired with my ADHD and depression. Tasks can seem so overwhelming and impossible to start. My head paints this big picture that <insert task here> is going to take a million hours of exhausting, mission impossible work. As a result, I’m afraid to even start. It’s just built up and overwhelming and I can’t seem to make myself start.

When I do eventually start the task, more often than not, it takes a hell of a lot less time than I feared, and not nearly as much effort as I assumed. It seemed endless and impossible, but in reality it was manageable and not that big of a deal. Certainly not what I built it up to be.

Getting started is the hard part. With me. With Sammy. And possibly (probably) with you.

So buy a little egg timer. Set it for 10 minutes. Now, not forever from now. (Or if you’re like me, give yourself a little more leeway and start at exactly x:00 or x:15 or x:30 or x:45… it just feels more solid and definite.) Set that timer and just start. See what happens.

And do what you can.

Oh! And one last thing! Don’t set yourself up for expecting perfection in the results. No one ever needs that. Your honest best is your honest best and don’t let anyone, including yourself, expect anything more from you.

So I can tell my depression is getting better because I’m no longer (usually) sleeping 12-14 hours at a time.

Posted on by kmarrs

Like I went to bed last “night” at 5 AM and was up by 1 PM fully rested.

On work nights I no longer have to be asleep by 10PM in order to be up by 9AM, and dragging.  If I’m still awake at 11 or even midnight, I’m mostly ok.

I’m still very much a spoonie, and always will be.  I still have fibro to contend with.  Even if I’m in complete remission from my mental health issues, the full long list, fibro is an energy sap.  But like I’m doing better.

This is a huge sign I’m doing better.

Also, I’m reading for fun again.  Even though I’m still in classes.  See if I spend less time hiding from my depression on tumblr, I can find the time to read.

But like for so long, as much as I love books, I couldn’t find the interest in reading.  That’s how I knew it was time to change my anti-depressant, btw.  That was many many many months ago.  But it took awhile to climb out of the hole I was in.  Stress from school doesn’t help.

So in my down time, my main hobby was depression scrolling Tumblr.

I still spend a lot of time on this site.  But now it’s mostly to talk to my many friends.  That’s not depression.  That’s living.

Dark Place

Posted on by kmarrs

I’m currently in a very dark place.  Money just got super tight.  Tighter than it’s been in a very long time and I’m terrified.

Plus school is currently kicking my ass.  Though my current class is about to be over.  I just have to watch a few more educational video, read one more chapter, and then write a paper.  Oh yeah.  And take a test worth 20% of my final grade.  *sigh*  I’m just super stressed.

After this class comes a management class.  I have not actually looked at it yet.  But it is the standard form.  No tests, just papers and most likely a group project.  I’m still at a point in my life where that is stressful, but it’s less stressful than this current class and I’m use to that format.  Most of the classes at my school don’t test.

After that class, which is 6 weeks long and ends December 12, I’ll have about 8 weeks off from classes.  That will be a much needed and welcomed break.  2 of those weeks will also be a vacation from work.  Won’t help the money situation any, but the entire university shuts down over the holidays, so I have no choice.  We’ll just have to make the best of it.  I do need the vacation, so that’s good at least.  I just hope the stress of losing more income, doesn’t outweigh the relaxation of a vacation.

So overall mental health wise… I have goals in life so I’m not actively suicidal.  But I would very much like to just curl up into a little ball and sleep until the world is a better and kinder place.

Also I miss my old cat that use to catch flies mid air and eat them.  I don’t… I can’t live with cats because they drive me crazy, but this fly is driving me crazier.  And it’s just… I’m already on the brink of a total mental breakdown, I don’t really need a fly pushing me over the edge.

But there you have it.

How can you help?

See the links to my books over in the left hand side?  Every little bit of additional income helps me out.  So consider purchasing one or both.  Alphabet Antics especially makes a great gift for the 2-5-year-old bracket.  That’s straight up money towards my rent and bills.  Never before has rent been in jeopardy, but starting now, it is.

IQ You

Posted on by kmarrs

On the 24th of October I sat the admissions test for MENSA.  I sat and failed, that is.

It’s been a lifelong goal of mine to join MENSA.  So this came as a hard break.  It’s not even that I’m not as smart as I thought I could be.  I don’t care as much about that.  I was greatly looking forward to the social opportunities.  And well, yes, I feel stupid.

I do feel really stupid.

And as I sit here trying to turn this into a long post I realize there is nothing more I want to say on the subject.  I mean I could explore how I feel stupid even though I’m not stupid but fuck that.  I don’t really want to talk about it.

So I’ve shared that I tried.  I’ve shared that I failed.  And now I have school work to work on.