The hunt for the perfect dosage is on again. It’s time to go up (hopefully for the last time) on my Vyvanse (aka slow-releasing adderall).
Please let this be my number.
What am I supposed to do? What does everyone want from me? I feel like I’m constantly treading with the weight of the world on my shoulders. I try… I try so, so hard. I try to please people and I try to please myself. There really is no perfect balance, is there?
Or maybe it’s not everyone else. Maybe the issue is me. After all, there has to be some sort of factor to my many failed friendships. Why don’t girls like me? All I want is that novel best friend. The one who I can call at 3 in the morning and she’ll come over with ice cream and movies.
Somehow every friendship that I think is going to work just crashes and burns.
Maybe I’m setting myself up for failure.
My friends don’t seem to get it. I put in so much effort despite how crappy I feel on a daily basis.
If I put in effort to see how you’re feeling, the least you can do is respond to me. I’m getting fed up with people like you.
I can rise above and realize that I’m not the only one with problems. I do my best to reach out and help you. It’s time for you to step up and realize the world isn’t out to get you and you’re not alone in your issues.
The sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be.
I’m done trying to make everyone happy. I need to focus on myself for a while.
It’s time to cut toxic people out of my life.
I’ll Write Later,
I need to workout. My doctor says core workouts would improve my health a ton, especially with my POTs. He says that it will help blood flow where it’s supposed to be, but of course I have intolerance to physical activities…
What do you guys do to workout? I’m completely lost here. Everything I try makes me feel sick. 😦
“I learned there are troubles of more than one kind. Some come from ahead, others come from behind. But I’ve bought a big bat. I’m all ready, you see. Now my troubles are going to have trouble with me.” – Dr. Seuss
I hope everyone had a wonderful 4th of July! Holidays always have me waking up feeling excited for the day that follows. 🙂
I usually go down to the town lake with a group of friends for the fireworks and festival they hold every year, but it just wasn’t happening for me this year. I’m okay with that though. I didn’t want the same events as the past years to play out this year, so I decided to take it easy and relax instead.
I remember 2 years ago (prior to my diagnosis), I went to the town lake with my friends and walked around the outdoor concert and food stands. I felt that heat beating down on me and I chugged water down in an attempt to feel better. We laid out on a blanket in the grass, and I remember everything being wavy and my head feeling light. My friends thought I might need to eat a bit, so we went to wait in the insanely long lines. I stood in that line for about 15 minutes, and right when I was the next one up to order, my stomach started churning and I ran to the side behind a boulder and threw up and dry heaved. I collapsed to the ground, and my friends came running over to me and called my parents. I had to go home before the fireworks even started.
Looking back on it, these are all my symptoms of a “POTs attack”. I didn’t know it at the time, and I remember feeling incredibly frustrated.
Last year was similar, so I decided to lay low this 4th. My wonderful friends and cousin came by the condo I’m staying at currently and we made bracelets and watched some fireworks for a few minutes from the balcony. Then we watched “How I Met Your Mother” and gave each other life advice and shared some laughs.
Don’t worry, I still had some USA spirit! I wore red, white, and blue from head to toe. 🙂
Hope everyone is doing alright and had an exciting and safe 4th of July!
With every day that passes, it all feels more and more real. It wasn’t so long ago that I was sitting in my elementary school hallway with my best friend, having my father read “Clifford, The Big Red Dog” to us. We would beg him to stay longer, even though we were supposed to head back to class, and he would find a nice spot around the corner to read one more book to us.
And it feels like just yesterday that same girl and I were stuck in traffic exiting the Taylor Swift concert, talking about how in just a few months, we would be officially college students. I remember we looked at each other in silence, and just shook our heads in disbelief.
I have registered for classes, chosen my major, and have gone through every advising I could possibly go through. I even have been assigned my dorm room and hall. It’s all moving so rapidly; I don’t even have time to soak it in.
A few months ago, I had decided that I wasn’t going to live on campus. But after long discussions, tear fests, and late-night racking of my brain, I have come to the firm decision to at least try to live on campus. I mean, I am provided with the best dorms on campus at Barrett. I got registered with the Disability Resource Center and they have done and will continue to do incredible things to help me feel at ease throughout my college experience. They even put me in my very own room so that I can relax and cool down when I’m not feeling all there. And even better, I share a bathroom with my best friend, and she will always be willing to lend a hand on those days.
Things seem to be falling in place, we went shopping for decor and had no issues deciding on a color scheme, we’re both the same major, and I actually think I’ve gotten some great professors.
But my God… I’m nervous.
I’ve never been good with being away from home, and more specifically, from my mother.
It has been something I’ve struggled with for my entire life, and probably will continue to for the rest of it. There is no doubt that I improve with every single day that passes, but I hate change. Especially change that involves being away from her and home.
This whole summer I have been working on being away from her and home, just to try and adjust for University. (This is partially why I have been MIA lately). I’ve been staying at my cousin’s condo while he is out of town frequently (where I am right now), and I have been staying at friends’ houses as well. These, though seemingly simple-sounding, are HUGE hurdles for me to have overcome. It wasn’t too long ago that I could barely spend a full day away, let alone upwards a week.
But last week I took the plunge. I never thought it would be that hard. My boyfriend and I decided to travel to San Diego for 4 days and 3 nights. I was so excited and not nervous at all. After all, close to nobody calms my nerves like him.
We drove there with no issues, and we hit mission beach and laughed and ate and simply had a blast. But then as evening fell, and we hit those California Highways, tears started streaming down my face. They wouldn’t stop. Nothing I did worked, and it hasn’t felt that bad since I was younger. Not even Zach could calm me. We got to the wonderful hotel and I curled up in a ball and sobbed for hours. I felt horrible for being such a downer, which only made me sob more. I was panicking and hyperventilating. I called my mom and we talked for a while until I calmed down. In my mind I just kept thinking, “I wanna go home. Please let me go home. I can’t do this. I’m not ready. College isn’t right for me, I can’t move out.”
I felt better for a little and then it started again. This was the cycle for the entire night.
But I got through it.
It was sadly one of the hardest things I ever had to do. But it was also one of the only times I really forced myself to do something I didn’t want to go through with. By the second day, I was fine. I had a blast. We created so many memories and had so many good laughs, and I feel so proud of myself. I never, not in a million years, thought I could have done that.
But I did.
And I feel more ready then ever.