chronic pain, Lifestyle, Mental health

Ugly Truth 60: I’m Tired

“Fatigue is here, in my body, in my legs and eyes. That is what gets you in the end.”
-Margaret Atwood

Dear Readers,

Sometimes getting better means getting worse first. The truth is I have more than I could ever dream of, but my exhaustion remains paralyzing.

When you have mental illness and chronic pain there’s a part of you that cries every time you have to get out of bed, but you do it because you don’t have a choice and no one truly gives a shit. The bills have to be paid regardless of the despair in your gut or the fire in your bones. Fatigue is a powerful and difficult thing. In fact, almost all of my suicidal ideation stems from this sense of overwhelm.

So far, I have found the only way around this is to take it in stride. Most days I feel good about the progress I have made, am making, and will continue to make; some days I buckle at the knees and I’m forced to listen to my body.

I spend weekends in bed because a two-day recovery is my minimum necessity for pain management, and daylight alone literally drains the energy from my soul. On the other hand, being so sensitive has taught me everything I need to know about boundaries and gravity. Be sure to ask yourself exactly what you need in these moments, and don’t dismiss the answer. My body craves solitude for example. The truth is I am a writer, but it still took me years to develop my use of language.

Why is it so difficult to get the fucking words out? Putting my agony into command has always been a challenge, be it physical or psychological. There is very little that really measures up, and I want to get it right. Sitting there from one specialist to the next, my wife squaring her shoulders beside me because she doesn’t know how to protect me from this, watching the dust settle in the afternoon light – I just want to be heard. Just once, I’d love to be taken care of. I don’t have to ask myself how I got here because I already know the answer. All I can do now is hope and pray for competent physicians. So far I have met some wonderful providers, and others who really make you ponder the meaning of the profession. The truth is honesty is always my best policy in life, in love, and in languishing.

I finally got some answers last week, and for that I am grateful. My TENS unit is giving me relief. I am sleeping better, and experiencing wider ranges of mobility – but I still have a lot of work to do. I know because I feel pushed to the brink, and I’m crying easily these days. I have my next doctor’s appointment on Wednesday, and my mind has a way of making something out of nothing; What if steroid injections don’t work? What if spinal decompression makes things worse? What if I’m never fully able to physically rehabilitate? What if the insurance runs out? What if my depression is always treatment resistant? What if I have to apply for disability again? This week my governor declared a state of natural disaster during a global pandemic for a life threatening ice storm approaching Houston, and suddenly his toll reflects my own. People are dying outside. We would all be better off staying home.

When we’re talking about serious fatigue, it makes the really small stuff feel insurmountable. I find myself in a constant state of mental preparation, and it’s not something an afternoon nap will cure. I wish I never would have taken my vitality for granted. It feels like I’m walking through quicksand underwater with weights on my feet. Soon I can’t breathe, and no amount of sleep or wine is enough. When it is time to sleep, I often can’t without a medicinal assist and when I do, nightmares and screaming neighbors persist. Still, sometimes the absence of something teaches us to truly understand its value.

The exhaustion is a visceral reaction to small daily obligation because my energy is redirected to everything it takes to hold my body upright during the day. I know tapered activities and exercise is the best way to combat this, but I must be patient until I get my spine under control. Unfortunately, I can’t tolerate exertion the way I used to. If I were to lean into it now, I run the risk of injuring myself further. In the meantime, hydration, eating well, and bed rest is ushering me through. The truth is being a full-time working mother, wife, and student will have to wait as I learn to balance these demands with self-care. I am learning how to reorganize my life. If you’re somewhere out there in the ether and you’re feeling overwhelmed, remember you’re not alone. The truth is it’s okay to cry, and it’s okay to tell about it.

Discuss: When was the last time you cried? How do you cope with clinical fatigue?

**If you’re a mental health survivor or mental health provider and want to tell your story – please email me at contact@deskraven.com!**

For more excellent insight and entertainment through a collaborative approach to all things mental health, including a guest post from yours truly, visit the Blunt Therapy Blog by Randy Withers, LPC! For additional perspectives on suicide prevention from master level mental health providers visit, 20 Professional Therapists Share Their Thoughts on Suicide!

In collaboration with Luis Posso, an Outreach Specialist from DrugRehab.com, Deskraven is now offering guides on depression and suicide prevention to its readers. For more information on understanding the perils of addiction visit, Substance Abuse and Suicide: A Guide to Understanding the Connection and Reducing Risk! In addition, for a comprehensive depression resource guide from their sister project at Columbus Recovery Center visit, Dealing with Depression!


LGBTQ+, Mental health, Relationships

Ugly Truth 37: Loving a Woman Changed my Worldview

“It was terrifying to love someone who was forbidden to you. Terrifying to feel something you could never speak of, something that was horrible to almost everyone you knew, something that could destroy your life.”
-Cassandra Clare, Lord of Shadows (The Dark Artifices, #2)

Dear Readers,

For as long as I can remember I have been attracted to women. This energy translated in all kinds of ways including the trivial and experimental. When I was young, I could not determine if my preference was tied to my predisposition toward manic depression, the result of trauma, or the simple product of my incessant curiosity. Perhaps my preference for women was simply just that, a preference. I was not privy to the possibility of expressing my sexuality in a healthy way and so, like most young women, I found myself stifled and oppressed until the spillover became too great. Falling in love with a woman changed my worldview by leading me to discover my personal truth and informing my capacity to receive.

For decades not only was my sexuality snuffed out by others, but also by myself. My own ego and fear would be the final frontier between me and my true happiness, at least until I learned this type of self-sabotaging behavior is completely unnecessary. When I look back and see how glaring obvious all of this seems it almost feels silly. I was in middle school when I started spending the night with my lady friends. Growing up in the north woods of Minnesota I was completely unaware of same sex couples. So, even though I had a loud biological response toward women and girls, I certainly didn’t know how to navigate those feelings due to my lack of exposure. Add to that my mother’s mean intolerance for the very same reason and suddenly it isn’t too hard to imagine why I kept my mouth shut. As I grew older though, it became harder and harder to hide. I would often enter relationships with men only to cry myself to sleep at night. I spent a tragic number of years aiming to please others and it cost me greatly. At best, living dishonestly can only be described as a repetitive re-traumatization of self.

When I was sixteen, I met my first boyfriend. Not surprisingly he was an effeminate man and sexually ambiguous. Seemingly towing the line between male and female he would often take too long to fluff his appearance, wear eyeliner atop his envious eyelashes, and shave his under arms. Still, I maintained and often acted on my eye for women with consent from my partner. I continued this pattern of dating men while kissing women for many years before finally getting married in 2014 against the adamant counsel of my father. To no one’s surprise the marriage dissolved two years later, and suddenly I had no choice but to my face my personal truth. I am in fact a very gay woman. After a handful of lukewarm encounters, one fiery female romance, and countless nightmarish dating scenarios I gave up all together on finding anything truly meaningful. That is, until I met Alice.

When I met Alice, I was what I would describe as perpetually open-minded. Coming out for the second and final time left me in a state of strange infancy. I was vulnerable, fearful and excited by the days ahead. While I would never be foolish enough to turn away from the real thing, I also was not actively seeking a serious long-term monogamous relationship. In retrospect, a great many of my life choices have been a direct result of my inclinations toward the notion of love. At the seat of myself I remain a romantic and I will never apologize for that. However, this type of vulnerability often comes chock full of aching organs, bittersweet endings, and lessons hard learned. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t become somewhat jaded after being force fed a heaping pile of disappointment. Some part of me though, however microscopic, clung to the swirling daydream that lasting love could exist for me if I could somehow find the courage to live honestly.

My encounter with Alice was the most natural unexpected experience I have ever had in my life. Our conversations were playful and organic before evolving into the meaningful inquiry we all hope for. We began to chip away at our commonalities, our biggest fears, our hopes for the future, and our own points of strength that we promised never to compromise on again. We promised never to discuss religion and politics, and then characteristically proceeded to do so. No topic was too scary. Nothing was off limits. It wasn’t long before our hearts began to lean in and our minds grew curious. In the same shared breath and quelling anxiety, we realized we both had nothing left to do but meet in person. I never imagined being able to remember the night clear as day, but I do.

After sharing a quick and unflinching bond with this woman I had one last order of business. I had to kiss her. Lucky for me, Alice felt the same way I did and agreed to meet. We agreed to go in comfy clothes and half brushed hair in order to lower the pressure for us both. So, I put on my favorite red pants, my favorite oversized hoodie, tied my hair up in those tiny clips that always seem to fall down the drain, and drank in the biggest gulp of bravery I could muster before wandering out the door with all the false confidence in the world. I knew I wanted to arrive early because living with anxiety taught me long ago that I will never be the girl who loves to light up a room. I slinked up to the bar and promptly ordered two beers to calm my nerves. Her texts came rolling in as she got closer and closer. Ten minutes away…five minutes away…almost there. The suspense was killing me. Finally, she walked through that door, tilted her head only the way she can, and smiled that sideways smirk that still drives me wild six months later. All she had to do was say one little hello to me and in that moment, it was as if all my broken pieces were pressed back together. I was hers. I calmly invited her to get a drink of her own before retiring to the couches on the other side of the bar, but inside my head was swimming. We did our best to get to know each other better above the clatter and belligerence of the patrons. Some time passed until finally she leaned in through the smoke, pausing only to gauge my reaction, and kissed me for the very first time. Suddenly, everything I thought I knew about the world shattered. I had butterflies in my stomach, crawling skin, a cloud in my head, a spark in my heart, and tears in my eyes. I had no idea what was going to happen next, but I knew I felt relief in feeling that in a world that had so often made me feel lost and forgotten, I was finally home.

Alice would go on to be the strongest most loving, loyal, gentle and patient friend I’ve ever had. Never once has she made me feel like I was going to lose her, although the thought alone motivates me to do everything I can not to. She is always pouring into me and giving back in ways she may not even understand. Best of all, we are both rewarded for being nothing short of our genuine self. The truth is, I could never imagine the life I live now and yet here I sit – in a completely new city, with a completely new routine, and a completely new sense of self that can only be the direct result of her generosity and respect toward me.

Falling in love with a woman changed my worldview by leading me to discover my personal truth and informing my capacity to receive.

**If you’re a mental health survivor or mental health provider and want to tell your story – please email me at contact@deskraven.com!**

For more excellent insight and entertainment through a collaborative approach to all things mental health, including a guest post from yours truly, visit the Blunt Therapy Blog by Randy Withers, LPC! For additional perspectives on suicide prevention from master level mental health providers visit, 20 Professional Therapists Share Their Thoughts on Suicide!

In collaboration with Luis Posso, an Outreach Specialist from DrugRehab.com, Deskraven is now offering guides on depression and suicide prevention to its readers. For more information on understanding the perils of addiction visit, Substance Abuse and Suicide: A Guide to Understanding the Connection and Reducing Risk! In addition, for a comprehensive depression resource guide from their sister project at Columbus Recovery Center visit, Dealing with Depression!

Mental health, Parenting

Ugly Truth 023: I Desperately Want to Have a Baby (And Why I Won’t)

Making the decision to have a child – it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” -Elizabeth Stone

Dear Readers,

When I was young, I swore I would never have children. After experiencing a childhood of abuse and abandonment, I did not believe having children was the right answer for me within the confinements of my family. Add to that a less than desirable predisposition in the way of genetics, and this decision came quite easily. Although, it was not without its heaviness of heart. Still, biology had its way with me, and in 2011 I gave birth to a healthy beautiful baby boy.

My relationship with his father demonstrated the deep love and adoration only young love can bring, and was completely free of any undue abuse or abandonment. Understanding the function of a loving dynamic was new to me, and made it easy to understand how one comes to desire more children if for no other reason than to share that experience with the person you cherish most.

As we grew older, our bond was tested by an enormous strain, and I am sad to say our relationship could not withstand the blow. After amicably parting ways, although not without tears, I again proclaimed, “No more children!” Coming from a blended broken family teaches you a few things. First, you get two of everything, and second, some decisions are never easy no matter how you slice them. After watching my mother struggle so, I was certain I did not want multiple children from multiple partners. I realize this may sound arrogant and narrow minded, but I understood early that this was one of those uneasy decisions.

I remained set in my ways, and did not produce another child over the course of the next six years. In that time I also experienced the love and loss of marriage and divorce, which only reinforced the gratitude I had for my decision. After many failed relationships, I soon swore off relationships altogether. This isn’t that far fetched an idea if you know my father. His bachelor status is well over a decade old, so I had exposure to the kind of predictable protection that this lifestyle choice can provide. Surly, I would never again have to worry about the loss of a loved one, or an unplanned pregnancy. For six months I was resigned to my decision, and settled happily into my new routines. In my son’s seventh year, however, my desire was set aflame by the unexpected love of an old friend, and a ticking biological clock.

Here I am now pushing 30 years old, watching that door close a little more each year as my son grows older – and all I can think about is the daughter I’ll never have. The truth is, I can not reconcile my heart with my mind.

My standard of living is below the demands of a growing family. I live with a myriad of health conditions – some of which are genetic – all of which are exacerbated by the experience of pregnancy. These include mental and physical health. As someone living with chronic pain, I am confident my body could not support a pregnancy without consequence.

Alternately, being in love is a natural causeway. Watching my son mature gives me an inflamed sense of everything as a first and last experience – and it devastates me to the point of distraction. I see my peers almost unanimously growing their families, and I find myself intensely jealous. I day dream of pregnancy, nursing, and all the wisdom I have now that I didn’t have with my son. I cry for the way I feel like something is missing. I cry for the way my son will never be called “brother”. I cry for the way I can not gift my partner. I cry for the name I have already given her.

The truth is, I would consider it flatly irresponsible to produce another child at this point given my health and my circumstances, and yet my grief is unrelenting.

**If you’re a mental health survivor or mental health provider and want to tell your story – please email me at contact@deskraven.com!**

For more excellent insight and entertainment through a collaborative approach to all things mental health, including a guest post from yours truly, visit the Blunt Therapy Blog by Randy Withers, LPC! For additional perspectives on suicide prevention from master level mental health providers visit, 20 Professional Therapists Share Their Thoughts on Suicide!

In collaboration with Luis Posso, an Outreach Specialist from DrugRehab.com, Deskraven is now offering guides on depression and suicide prevention to its readers. For more information on understanding the perils of addiction visit, Substance Abuse and Suicide: A Guide to Understanding the Connection and Reducing Risk! In addition, for a comprehensive depression resource guide from their sister project at Columbus Recovery Center visit, Dealing with Depression!