A day in the life...

Oh, hey there.
Me again.
I'm sitting here trying to decide whether this post should be a heart wrenchingly honest one
or
a blah blah blah here's how fabulous my life is one.
Let's go with a slight combination.
Ok? Perfect.

So, the other day I was like Martha Stewart on crack...
cooked, cleaned, painted, knitted, and even paid attention to the dogs.
I have become exactly who I promised myself I wouldn't be.
I fucking love it though.

I admit it...I love being a "housewife."

Dave and I made two more deals.
1. I don't have to resume working 4 days a week IF I volunteer two days and work two.
2. I can get my motorcycle license IF I'm careful and know I can't get my own bike right away.

Done and done.

I love that he makes my dreams become reality.

So the other day I get this wild hair up my ass and decide to seek out some forgiveness & mend a broken tie with an old..."friend."

It went better than I expected.

I laid out my truth and he told me his.

After a year or so of each of us assuming the worst of one another, things were finally set right.

We respectfully got everything into the open and bid one each other the best in life.

I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

A weight I didn't even notice until the other day.

So, what's my point?

My point is that one should always fix their burned bridges.

I let that mother fucker burn like Hell (bridge, not person), but now things are okay.

I'm at peace with the situation.

Humbling yourself and admitting you're wrong is huge.

Sharing yourself is freeing.

Put positive energy into the universe.

XOXO,
Allie

Busy as a bee

For someone who only works 16 hours a week, I can't ever seem to find enough time.
How did I survive when I worked 50+ hours AND tried to keep things together?
Seriously.
The last month or so has been INSANE.

I'm not sure how I remembered to breathe.

First, Dave came home early.
(J. Marc you are dearly missed)
The next day my mom and aunt came into town.
We also had the neph (every weekend) and Strumbley here.
Yes, 7 people in a house that usually has 2.
Dyinggggg.
Don't get me wrong, I love to entertain, but this was a clusterfuck.

Carrie, mom, Brian-- loved having you guys, but it was a madhouse.
We all had great meals, lots of drinking, and a lot of time spent strumbling into the pool.
Yes, "strumbling" is our new word.
It's Brian's last name plus stumble.
Must only be used when referring to an action done while drinking.

After our little trip up to the Prescott house, Dave and I took the wedding bull by the horns.
We accomplished so much while he was here...not to mention he won't be home again until March.
Our engagement pics are already back and they are FABULOUS!!!
I have such a handsome hubs-to-be.
Also, shout-out to David De Dios for being such a talented photog!

Our little stay-cation at the Pointe Hilton was just what the two of us needed.

Lounging poolside is the best thing in the world.
Not to mention being surrounded by natural waterfalls & palm trees without leaving the city!

Dave, you always choose the best places for us to stay.
It even made me forget about NOT being in Costa Rica as planned.

Oh, and more info on the wedding website regarding the resort will be posted soon.

OH SHIT.
I can't believe I didn't say this right away...
I GOT MY REAL RING AND IT IS FUCKING GORGEOUS.
Thanks, baby. 

You have to get something you adore and you won't ever need to upgrade.
I look at my hand a thousand times each day and smile because I love it so.

Diamonds are a girl's best friend.

Dave went back to Afghanistan and I tried to stay positive...
and I ended up at David's Bridal on the way home.
I finally got my dress.

It's going to need major altering because my boobs are several dress sizes larger than my non-existent ass.

It isn't at all what I had envisioned or where I wanted to go, but things ended perfectly.

I feel gorgeous in my dress and I undoubtedly know Dave will agree.
Vera Wang, you are a genius.

Yesterday I enrolled in two classes at PVCC.
I begin with Psychology today and have meditation & wellness on Friday.
Being on a campus again is a strange feeling.
I'm excited to go to school again...

and you all know how I love school supplies.
I'm going to get my associates and then on to bachelors.
Maybe masters someday.

Needless to say, I still haven't picked up more hours at work.

Maybe just one more day rather than two...we'll see.
Peak season in Phoenix is coming soon, so I need to get my butt into gear.

I'm just so tired of the salon atmosphere.

I want to help people in a real way...
not just to look better.

Anyway, I've been feeling happy & content lately.
When I have a spare minute to slow down I realize how lucky I am.
Cooking even makes me smile -- WTF?!?!
A few years ago it made me want to pull my hair out.

I also figured out that I can cook and paint in between.
Bliss.
Two months ago I was in a very different state of mind.
So thankful to be where I am now.

Thankful for wonderful hubs-to-be.
Thankful for love & support from all angles.
Thankful for each new day.

XOXO

The "truth" about me...

This post is going to be raw, vulnerable, and completely honest.
I'm actually nervous as I'm sitting here typing...
and a little out of it as I have been up since 2am.
Anyway, mental illness is the topic du jour.

The recent suicide of a friend initially prompted me to open up.
And the surprising words in an e-mail from an old friend.
I think everyone needs someone to relate to.
So, here I am...
take me or leave me.

I have been suffering with depression since I was 16.
I have been on anti-depressants for the past 8 years.
My parents were initially in denial about what was going on in my life.
Let's face it...nobody wants to have "that" kid.
It wasn't just regular sadness or something that would pass.
They serotonin levels were actually fucked up in my brain.
Not something I could just shake off.
They put me into counseling and started meds.
I got better for awhile.

When I felt good I would always try to wean myself off of my meds.
That's definitely it a problem.
You feel good because the meds are working, not necessarily because you're better.
I hated the stigma of having to take a pill to feel "happy."
I just wanted to be "normal."
What the hell is "normal" anyway?
There isn't a standard of normalcy.
It's functional or non-functional.

For those of you who don't have a mental illness, I'll explain what it feels like.
Those commercials on TV are so ridiculous.
It feels like you're stuck in a dark, awful bubble.
No matter what you do you can't feel better.
You hate yourself & the world around you.
You just want "peace."
Sometimes it's sleeping to turn your mind off.
Sometimes it's cutting yourself to release the inner pain through an outer channel.
(Don't make emo jokes here)
Sometimes it's not being able to cry because your body can't physically produce more tears.
Sometimes it's controlling outward things because you can't control your inner emotions.

Anyway, two years ago I attempted to kill myself.
I had reached that dark hole and just wanted out.
Life was too much and I just wanted to shut it all off.
I wanted to be at peace...or to feel anything other than what I felt.
The depression and anxiety were unbearable.
I had everything going for me, but I wasn't happy in my own mind.
I decided ending it all would be best.
Luckily, they got me to the hospital before the meds shut me down.
I had to drink a charcoal milkshake to absorb all the pills I had taken.
Let's just say when it's over it's like wiping with 80 grit sand paper...
I spent 4 days in a mental health unit.
It was fucking horrible.
You're like a prisoner, but you get to wear your own clothes.
I promised myself I wouldn't every be put in "one of those places" ever again.
Then I moved out to PHX to live with my cousin who had Borderline Personality Disorder.
It's similar to bipolar with the mood fluctuations, but occurs throughout a day rather than a month or so.
He "got" me more than anyone else in the world ever had.
We had the craziest, deepest bond you can ever imagine.
Then one morning, he shot himself in our house while we were home.

Fast forward to this past summer...

Feeling the same way all over again.
Great life, but I didn't want it.
I had been in the downward spiral for a few weeks.
I kept telling myself I was going to snap out of it.
I reached the breaking point and knew I had to get help or I would be gone within hours.
I knew that I couldn't put my family & friends through the fallout after Sean.
As much as I disregarded myself, I knew the pain it felt to lose someone to suicide.
I called my brother and told him I was coming home from work and that we needed to go straight to the hospital.
He knew I wasn't joking and we went.
I spent 6 days in the unit.
This time it was a better place and I didn't "work" the system just to get out.
I knew I had to make major changes or the cycle would repeat again.
After discharge, I went to IOPMH (Intensive Out-Patient Mental Health) for 5 weeks.
I met some inspiring, supportive friends who understand the daily challenges I face.
In some way, they save me every day.

My doctors/counselors/therapists have been assisting me with finding the diagnosis to my disorder.
A little OCD, a lot of anxiety, and a ton of mood fluctuations.
It isn't just depression & anxiety anymore.
There is something we've been missing the past 8 years prior.
So, we continue to work together to figure out my best treatment.
I hope one day I can be a fully functioning individual.
I'm working toward it each and every day.

So, what was the point of all this rambling?
If there is even one person who feels less alone and that it's ok to ask for help after reading my story,
then I did exactly what I intended to do when I began typing.
I may only be 24, but I've been through a lot of shit that others my age haven't been through.
I may seem like a crazy bitch sometimes, but I'm always here to listen...
To lend an ear or a shoulder.
Just know that I get it.

XOXO,
Allie