Happy Pills?

A  couple months ago I got really sick of being depressed, and I wanted to do something about it. So I did the thing I was always scared to do, I set up an appointment with a psychologist oops I mean a psychiatrist. I get those two guys confused, but the latter can prescribe medication. I had been in therapy for quite some time [I’ll post more about that experience in another post], but I didn’t get any fulfillment from it. The psychiatrist listened to a summary of all of my reoccurring issues, typed on her computer and told me that I have major depressive disorder along with anxiety. I cried when she told me that because I had always knew this, but to hear it from someone else was a mixture of reality and relief. She wrote me a prescription and she told me three things: first, this was not my fault nor am I a bad person, secondly it is a curable disease that can take up to 2 years to cure, lastly it is a trial and error with these medications, so if one doesn’t work I will have to try a different kind.

I was also told that these medications take up to two weeks before they actually start to work. I wasn’t prepared for the first week. I felt a lot of energy, as if i was on adderal, and I was more keen to have conversations with people. The only drawback would be the nacreous feeling it gave me and the small crash i felt after the high. I hated it even more when I realized that drinking, smoking weed and anti depressants DO NOT go hand in hand. I couldn’t hardly finish one drink and the down afterwards would be magnified by 100. After smoking I felt like a different person and I wanted to throw my pills away, or my heart would race so fast. I had to change my lifestyle completely and after a while I gave them up. During this time Hurricane Harvey hit Houston and I couldn’t get a hold of a doctor for weeks so I took the last few pills I had and jumped back on the drinking/smoking train to ease any drawbacks I might feel.

Seven months later. and I’m starting to feel the effects of the depression, drinking and smoking. Its severing my relationships with others and most importantly myself. I scheduled an appointment with another psychiatrist to start the happy pills again, and this time I’ll do it right



I’m a pusher Cady, I push people

I’m a pusher alright. Saying that makes me think of someone in labor. Anyway does any one else push everyone away? I think that’s why I low-key want to move away all the time, so I can drive a bigger wedge in between me and THEM.

To my friends: I’m not going to invest a lot of anything in you because you probably see me as disposable, and therefore will drop me as soon as you find out that the girl you thought was super cool, is actually super insecure and sad. She’s gonna have a really hard time keeping a connection with you because her anxiety is gonna leave her in a mess of frazzled nerves. Oh, and don’t worry I’ll make sure to put you through “tests” to find out if you will stay because that’s what people love to do in their spare time right?

To any guys/love interests: I’ll be myself for the first few days, mostly because I’m nervous and I cant pretend to be the other Cheiyenne. We will connect well enough , but after a week passes I’m going to start feeling awkward because I won’t know how to be “chill” anymore. I’m gonna obsess over the fact that I’m not the same Cheiyenne you met a week ago and wonder how long you will put up with my insecurities before you bolt. I will also lose faith in myself and assume that you will find someone better, but at the same time hoping you don’t go anywhere.

To my family: Boy, I feel the worst for you guys. You have to live with me and see my erratic mood swings. You get to live with a hermit who will show very little enthusiasm when you come home because I want to “be alone” but really I’m just pushing you away because you care about me. You care enough to ask how I am, and you’re always saying nice things which makes me think that you’re lying. God forbid you hurt my feelings at all because it gives me an excuse to put up a wall. Because being a close knit family feels gross and unrealistic in my head.

To my casual acquaintances: I hope you cash me on a good day because if you don’t I will most likely act brand new. Mostly because I feel weird when I have not seen someone in a while and I don’t feel like entertaining you with the Cheiyenne you’re used to because I’m too depressed on the inside. Also I feel like you don’t like me anyway so whats the point right? lol

To my body: I’m sorry that I intentionally hurt you by eating bad, and keeping you locked away in your room. I’m sorry that I don’t take care of you the way I should. I’m sorry for all the stress and the fact that I don’t let you rest. I’m sorry that I allow people to violate you who have no right to.

Maybe I’ll try a therapist again lol

Monday Morning Blues

No matter how upset I get I have to remember not to hurt myself on purpose. I just want to intentionally screw up things for myself as punishment. I want to take the hurt I feel and use it to hurt myself. I should channel it into something more productive, but right now I just feel so down. Earth can really be hell for me most of the time. I’m getting stretched so much these days, it hurts. Things are so much better when I’m alone, but maybe being alone needs to change. Maybe being alone isn’t as comforting as I think it is. I want to isolate myself when I get hurt, so maybe I should speak up instead. Okay Have a Great Morning!

Dreaming in color ♥

Do I dream in color? I thought about this and realized that maybe there is no color…Maybe the plane of my sub conscious goes beyond color. I always assume that my dreams are in color, but then again I can not vividly remember any color being present. I just experienced something, and color had no significance to me at the time. I do not believe the sub conscious needs color. I think that I go into a dream state and I am apart of that state of being. Color is not something I notice. I am so used to seeing it that I assume it must be there. 

My Starbucks Story

Today I’m sad. When I first moved to Deer Park to live with my grandparents it was hard to find my place in this small town. I was able to enroll myself into school and get myself a job at the Starbucks right up the street from me. I remember I would go up there everyday until the manager finally hired me. I gritted my teeth and bit my tongue a lot at that store, but I also made some very good friends there. The relationships I have with my coworkers are seriously unique to any other place I have ever worked at. Everyone was passionate about Starbucks, wanted to make it better, and I wanted to be apart of that. I quickly built on my skills and poured a lot of my heart into that place. Before I knew it a year and a half had passed and I was still in love with it all. There was a boy that always came to Starbucks, then eventually worked there, and I fell really hard for him. Things were not so pleasant in the end between us, but even after he quit working there he would still come every day. I’ve gotten another job since then that allows me to work at Starbucks on the weekend and after a few months of this I feel like i need to quit. This boy somehow still triggers some part of me every time I see him. He intermingles with all of the coworkers that I have friendships with and still keeps it apart of his life. Starbucks is hard to let go of. Most baristas always say “you’ll be back” after someone quits in an angry rage, but soon enough they come back with an application in hand and the look of remorse smeared across their face. The relationships you can cultivate there, the work family that you have is really special. You suffer together, you laugh together, you complain together, and you celebrate together. I feel like it’s time for me to go. My place in that little family is starting to dissapear, and it brought tears to my eyes to admit that I knew it was my time. I tried to hold on to the little bit that I could, but its time to let it go. I’ll be thankful for the rest that will come my way and that I will not have to see that boy ever again. But I will miss the experience. I was damn good at being a barista too, but I’m not needed there anymore.

You’re not getting a reaction from me.

Whenever you come across difficult people try to remember that their emotions are not yours and you DO NOT owe them any reaction. Most difficult people want one and in this life it’s not going to come from you. Protect yourself fiercely from anyone that threatens your personal sphere, and use that opportunity to practice the fine art of not giving a fuck.