Wednesday, 20 January 2016

It's Never What You're Expecting

A few days ago, I was re-reading my first blog post, and I realized I barely touched on what happened to me. I was in a bad spot there, and I couldn't handle saying everything that happened to me. I've decided that I'll tell you exactly what happened to me, the full truth.

So, quick trigger warning: Verbal abuse and emotional abuse

I remember first going to meet my grade six teacher, it was, what, maybe a few weeks before summer ended? I don't know, my sense of time during those months is extremely messed up, what was a few months feels like years. Now, when I first met my teacher, I passed him off as odd, maybe a bit eccentric, even. I figured he'd be an okay teacher, I figured it would just be school as usual. We all know how wrong I was to think that.

The first few weeks were fine, just as I'd expected it was school as usual. I don't remember when exactly it all started, but one of the first memories was getting kicked out of class. I forgot to do a few homework questions, so the teacher kicked me out while the class took up answers. I was sent to sit on a bench in front of the main office, and I was there for a good twenty to forty minutes. Finally, someone came to bring me back to class.

 "Sorry, the teacher forgot where he sent you to finish you're work". Yeah right. I was in the most obvious place to look, and no matter where you were walking, you were bound to pass me. I missed the lesson for the math work we were doing that day. I was left scrambling to figure out what we were doing. Of course, at that time, I thought nothing of it, it was an accident of course.

After that, I failed the math unit we were doing. I don't remember why exactly, but it was probably a combination of fear, being unable to concentrate, and missing most of the instructions. Of course, I told my mom that I was failing the math unit, but the report card that got sent home said I was getting all A's and B's, when in reality, I was scraping by with D's and F's.

 On parent teacher interview day, my mom asked my teacher how I was doing in math. "Micah's doing great in math, she's really good at it, she picks it up really quickly." I UNDERSTOOD NONE OF THE WORK AND I WAS FAILING. HE FLAT OUT LIED TO MY MOM. She tried to have it so that the EA taught me in the school's resource room, but I guess the teacher got to her first, because to be brutally honest, they didn't do shit. She ignored me most of the time, and only occasionally helped me out, and when she helped, it was "Micah, it's length times width" or "It's length times width times height, Micah".

My mom resorted to trying to teach me herself, but by then, I was too terrified of the math and being taken into the hall and yelled at. To this day, I can't remember if I was ever taken into the hall and yelled at, and I can't completely recall everything that happened during that time. My brain seems to think the forgetting helps. 

The teacher would take students into the hall and yell and scream at them, and the gifted class that was across the hall would just laugh and make fun of anyone who got yelled at. They were all horrible people, every single person in that class. 

English went okay, but even then, I was still just barely managing to pass that. I bought one of the books we read in that class, and I can't read it anymore for fear of flashbacks and panic attacks. I have a few memories of History, it was nothing special, and I have one or two vague memories of science class.

Now, in some ways I'm glad I can't remember everything that happened to me, but in other ways, it terrifies me to even think about what I've possibly forgotten. I honestly have no idea if I was one of those unfortunate people screamed at in the hallway, and the not knowing is a horrid feeling.

I can remember him shaming me and him gloating and bragging as well. Not happy memories. The memory that sticks in my head the most was from when my mom didn't realize how bad it really was. Now, by this time, I was refusing to go to school, and I only went to school when my mom and I were picking up my work. The teacher always made it a point to come and 'chat' (read: brag and shame me). 

He apparently had a kid on the police force who worked for the canine unit, and got his kid, another officer, and their dogs to come in and visit and chat with the class. He told me "It's a shame you missed it Micah, you would have been there to see it if you were actually coming to school." and my mom responded with "See Micah, you need to start going to school again. You missed out on something really cool!"

This went on for a bit, then there was the meeting. The teacher had me write a list of what I didn't like about school, and I wrote 'school in general'. Now, the teacher kicked out all the board psychologists, and the teacher turned a blind eye. The people involved in the meeting were myself, my mom, my dad (I think?), my autism consultant, and the autism consultant I would be switching to. 

Now, after kicking out the psychologists, he wheeled around the face me and proceeded to tell me "What you wrote was a slap to the face" or something that like, that's the main part I remember, The whole meeting basically consisted of him telling me off, then eventually a tiny bit about strategies to get me back into school. 

Now, it was decided I would work in the office. I'm honestly surprised I managed to drag myself to school everyday. Every day the teacher came into the office to bring me my work, all the while gloating and bragging about what I was missing, and making me feel horrible. The office staff never cared, they just ignored it all. 

Well, I started refusing to go to school again, and it was decided that I would just sit in the office doing arts and crafts in hopes that I would realize school wasn't that bad. I spent my days doing these sticky Mosaic by Numbers kit, and listening to the office staff gossiping about their kids and friends. I stopped wanting to go to school, and my mom eventually gave up on trying to make me go to school. 

By Christmas break, I think she'd figured out that it was Verbal Abuse and Emotional Abuse. She never told me it was abuse, I assumed it was just extreme bullying and never asked. Before school started back up in January, I was officially withdrawn from the school. My mom home-schooled me for a while, 

My parents sent me to a child psychologist for a while, but I had no interest in talking, and I ended up playing monopoly every week. I was put into the public board not long after, and I started getting home instruction. I was put into an autism class for my grade seven year, I was officially one of the first students in that school's first ever autism class.

Life was good, and I slowly started making friends. Then in grade eight, I had my first relapse. It was mid November, and we'd just gotten back from a week-long trip to Florida. I was terrified of going to school, and found myself trapped in the habit of refusing to go. My parents were upset, and I can remember that one night my mom said to me "We should never have gone on that trip because you just want to stay on vacation now".

I was upset, and, if I remember correctly, that was the first time I stopped talking. I gave my mom the silent treatment for a day, but I was back to talking quickly. Then one day, mid December, I was Facebook messaging some of my friends, and was telling my mom about the dream I'd had. I'd dreamed my teacher (who was dead by that point) had come to my new school, became principal, turned the school into a military school, kicked me out, and blocked me from being able to see my friends. That was when my mom realized that I likely had PTSD.

She had me take questionnaires and read about PTSD, and a few weeks later, I was officially diagnosed with PTSD. I started taking music therapy, but I broke down in the car just before my third session. I quit that therapy, then I tried art therapy. I manged the first session, but it was too unstructured, and I refused to go to my second session.

Then my mom started looking for equine-assisted therapy. After weeks of searching, she found Horse Spirit Connections. I've been taking therapy there for almost two years now, and it's worked wonders for me. It's the only therapy that actually works, and I'm comfortable enough with my therapist that I can tell her what's going on.

Grade nine went well for me, and my therapist had helped me prepare for that and helped me throughout the year. I was passing every class I took with an average of over 95%, and I had honor roll both semesters. There was one incident where I got angry with my mom and refused to talk, but she bribed me into talking again after I was silent for a day.

Now, not that long ago I was looking up emotional abuse, verbal abuse, and psychological abuse, I can't exactly remember why. I remember starting to realize things were adding up, too many similar occurrences to just be a coincidence. I remember thinking that it couldn't have happened to me because that type of abuse only happens in family situations or in romantic relationships, because that was all the media ever told me.

Well, after taking multiple questionnaires geared towards romantic relationships, I realized it was way too likely that I was an abuse victim. A few weeks after researching, I got up the courage to ask my mom if I had been abused, her exact response was "it was definitely abuse".  I had thought it would just be something new to know, and that life would go on as normal.

It didn't. I was horrified and relieved at the same time, I wanted to go back to not knowing. I've started to get used to knowing, but it still feels horrible. To this day, I can't read the phrase 'slap to the face' without having to change the words to another phrase as if I don't I risk flashbacks and a panic attack. If I hear the phrase 'slap to the face', there's no way I can try to stop the oncoming flashbacks and a panic attack.

This week's song:

I'm Not Okay (I Promise) by My Chemical Romance

Tuesday, 12 January 2016

Rock Bottom

Trigger Warnings:

I know I haven't posted in a long time, and I honestly don't have a good reason for that, but hey, at least I'm writing again. I'm not at a good point in life right now. I'm depressed. It's bad. I deal with thoughts on self-harm daily. Today was the worst I've been. I should probably start from the beginning, though.

In November, I broke my arm. I fell off Winter, and I landed straight on my elbow. I dislocated it, smashed the bone, and ripped a tendon. After two weeks of being in pain, I had surgery. I had four screws and a plate put in, and I had the tendon re-attached.

I was getting home instruction, but the problem was, in Science we were starting Physics. I understood nothing. I got so stressed out and nervous and anxious that I had a nervous breakdown. My mom finally came to check on me after I'd been crying for an hour-and-a-half, and I cried for another thirty minutes. I cried for two hours. The next day, I had an anxiety attack just thinking about going into the science classroom, so one of my other teachers let me stay in a different classroom and taught me what we were doing. I was better after that. I got an almost perfect score on the test for that unit.

I was managing, but I was still stressed and more on edge than usual. Over Christmas break, I snapped. The one Sunday, I was supposed to have a guitar lesson, and then my family would go see Star Wars. Well, my guitar teacher was sick, so I didn't get a guitar lesson. I told myself I was fine, I told myself that I'd wanted to go to Chapters anyway. I went to Chapters, and got myself a few books, I would later realise how ironic the one book I'd bought was. When we got to the movie theatre, Star Wars was sold out. I was upset, but not because the movie was sold out. Why was I upset? Well, I'd warned my mom to buy tickets ahead of time because it was Star Wars, it was going to sell out quickly.

I was extremely angry as well as upset. I'd told my mom, but she hadn't listened. The destructive thoughts started then. I kept thinking, over and over again, 'no one ever listens to me' and 'why does no one ever listen to me?'. Well, I was so upset about not being listened to, that I gave my mom the silent treatment. The thoughts on self-harm started that night. 'It would be so easy. You know where to get a razor blades are. You know how to hide things, how would this be any different? It'll help.' I didn't follow through, and I'm so glad I didn't.

At first the refusing to speak was fine, but when I woke up the next day, I was ready to talk to my mom, but I found that I couldn't. My voice was refusing to work, and I knew it wasn't from a sore throat. This was new to me, the only reason I'd ever not been able to talk was from being sick, I wasn't used to my own voice turning against me. I was starting to get scared. After I remembered my thoughts on self-harm the night before, I realised it was likely I was depressed. My PTSD relapse was bad this year, so depression was likely.

Eventually my mom and I talked, and I told her I couldn't speak and that I thought I was depressed. The thoughts on self-harm were still there, but they'd calmed down since the night before. I went to therapy the next day, and another therapy appointment was booked for two days later. I also had a doctor's appointment that afternoon, so I got a prescription for anti-depressants.

Through out the next days, the thoughts on self-harm got bad again. I was thinking about self-harm when I was in the car, when my mom and I were shopping, when I was at home, it didn't seem to matter where I was or what I was doing. I talked to my therapist about it, but the thoughts were still really bad afterwards.

Eventually, the thoughts calmed, and life started getting easier again. I started school again, and I was fine at first. Then the thoughts started up again last night. It wasn't too bad, the thoughts on self-harm weren't there, I was just angry and sad. I talked to a friend through texting for an hour or two, and I felt better. Then today happened.

This morning, the thoughts on self-harm were nearly unbearable. Now, since I can't talk, I've been using a text-to-speech app at school, and I've started taking piano lessons for now since I can't sing either. I started learning to play Twin Skeletons (Hotel In NYC) by Fall Out Boy. I felt emotionally connected to the song, so I started learning to play it. When the thoughts on self-harm got bad, I went downstairs and played piano.

I played Twin Skeletons (Hotel IN NYC) repeatedly, and I was slowly hitting the keys harder and harder. It got my emotions out, and it stopped the thoughts. It was working. Then I had to go to physiotherapy for my arm, and I couldn't use the piano anymore. I guess that's when it started.

Physio was fine, and then I went to school. I was okay at first, the thoughts weren't there. Then one boy in my class started causing problems. I was chatting with my friend using the app I'd downloaded, when the boy rudely said "You know Micah can speak, right? She's just refusing to talk." The teachers told him off, and my friends all got upset with him. He didn't want to listen, but he wasn't allowed to talk about it anymore, it wasn't any of his business.

Then I started getting on edge, I needed out. I went on a quick walk, usually that would help. It didn't. Thoughts of self-harm started. They were the worst I'd had. If I'd had something I could cut with, I know I would have started then and there. I went back to class to go see the vice principal, my old guidance counsellor. She was a person I trusted and could easily talk to, and she knew what was going on. Only problem was, she was busy with a phone call, so I'd have to come back later to talk to her.

When I started to walk back to class, it got bad. I couldn't handle it, I stopped thinking straight, all I could think was 'need to hide need to hide need to hide can't go back to class can't can't can't'. I was desperate, and I went and hid under a stairwell. I texted my mom and one of my friends. My friend came and sat with me, but I got worse from there.

I ended up sitting curled in on myself, I was on the verge of tears. I was shaking badly and I was hyperventilating. I lost track of time, it felt like I was there for years. My thoughts were jumbled and repetitive, I couldn't think straight. Most of my thoughts were 'I can't handle this I can't I can't I can't I can't handle this' and 'Please don't leave me please don't leave me please don't leave me here' and 'I don't want to be alone please don't leave me alone' and 'I need help', etc.

It was bad. I felt shame and guilt over making my friend miss class, and it was horrid when those feelings mixed with the sadness and anger. It was nearly unbearable. My teacher found my friend and I eventually, and she got the vice principal for me. I went with the vice principal to her office, and we talked about what happened. She called my mom, and she had my mom bring me my piano sheet music. I got permission to play a piano and I didn't have to go to my classes. I slowly started feeling better.

I've finally realised what happened. It wasn't the medication making me feel better, I was bottling up my feelings and pushing them to the back of my mind. So what I thought was me getting better was just me pretending nothing was wrong, pretending I was okay. You'd think I'd have learnt that bottling up emotions just leads to a breakdown sooner or later, but I don't learn. Hopefully I won't make the same mistake again. I don't want this to happen again.

I'm still off, but my piano is helping me a lot. Piano seems to help me more than my guitar and my bass do, and I still don't completely understand why. But hey, if it works, it works. Listening to music has helped as well, my music expressed my emotions for me.

So yeah, today I hit rock bottom, but I think I'll slowly be okay. I'll survive. If I survived grade six, I can get through this as well. It may take a long time, but I'll slowly get better. I just have to focus on getting better and keeping myself from self-harm.

Here's the links to this week's song and Twin Skeletons (Hotel In NYC):

Twin Skeletons (Hotel In NYC) by Fall Out Boy:

Think I'm Sick by Icon For Hire:

Tuesday, 22 April 2014

Setbacks, Poetry, And Other Stuff

      So, sorry for writing my blog late again. The school thing still has me messed up, and it's been a pretty bad setback. But on the bright side, I'm volunteering at the barn and have started writing poetry! I made a new blog for the poetry, here's the link Battle Of A Girl With PTSD Poetry.

      I am pretty good at writing poetry, and the new therapy I'm doing is helping a lot. The equine therapy is really working, so, yeah, that's all I can think of to write. Oh, yeah, also, check out the new survey I put out and vote on it, your opinion is appreciated! 


Friday, 11 April 2014

You Can't Choose To Be Happy

      So, I was using Pinterest (one of my favorite things to do since I discovered it), and I was looking up quotes about PTSD. So, while I was looking up these quotes, I found one that said 'No, it doesn't work that way. I can't just wake up one day, say "Oh, I wanna be happy" and be happy. Believe me, I've tried.' It doesn't work that way with PTSD and any other mental illnesses.

      I found tons of good quotes for people with PTSD, and these are two of my favorite quotes. "To be hurt, to feel lost. To be left out in the dark, to be kicked when you're down. To feel like you're being pushed around, to be on the edge of breaking down. And no one's there to save you, no, you don't know what it's like. Welcome to my life." I don't know who the author is for that on. "It sucks, you know. When everything is doing fine, then it all crashes again? And the worst part is, I really don't want to try and put it back together again, but I have to." Don't know the author for that one either.

      So as you can see, it's hard to be happy when you have a mental illness like PTSD. The last time I can remember being happy, was last week, at my riding lesson, when Winter and I did our first flying lead change (hopefully will get video next lesson). But something else happened this week, and sapped the happiness away.

      My friend wanted to go to the park, so we were going to go to the only park on our street. Only problem with that is, the park is at the school that had the teacher that caused my PTSD. I reluctantly agreed to go, and I mainly agreed to go because I hadn't seen my friend for about three or four days. So we went to the park, and five kids I knew from that school that had been in my class were there. Luckily, they only said hi to me.

      Then my friend and I saw the janitor, he walked out of the building, but all I could see was a taller man with grey hair, like my old teacher. I automatically started freaking out, and started asking my friend if she wanted to leave the park. She didn't want to leave the park yet, and didn't understand why I was so anxious to leave the park. About ten minutes later, we left the park, and I explained what happened to her.

       The same thing happened a month or two ago when my mom had a meeting. I was sitting in the lobby, playing on my iPad and reading my book, and this man walks in. He was a taller man with grey hair, like my old teacher, so I freaked out quietly for a few minutes, then attempted to calm myself down. Luckily, the man left after five minutes.

        As you can see, if I see a taller man with grey hair, I will automatically freak out. I also freak out when something unexpected happens, once, I was at school eating lunch with my friends, and a girl I know decided to sneak up on me. She didn't know I had PTSD, so she thought it would be funny to sneak up on me and see my reaction. She didn't expect me to jump up in the air because I got seriously freaked out. She then continued to laugh at me and explain how I shouldn't have freaked out because it was obvious she was there. But I hadn't known she was there because I was busy talking to my friends, who then told her off for sneaking up on me and laughing about it.

      That's all for this week, and instead of giving you a link to a music video, I will be providing a video of me singing Brave by Sara Bareilles. Also, here is a link to the facebook page I made for Battle Of A Girl With PTSD Facebook Page.


Tuesday, 1 April 2014

Some Of My Secrets Revealed

      So, I told you I would reveal more about my past and why I keep my secrets for so long in this post, so I'l just get straight to it. I keep wanting to tell my closest and most trusted friends my secrets and the rest of my past, but my mind shuts down my voice before I have the chance to say a word about them. My mind is so kind, isn't it? Just kidding! It's good for keeping secrets from people I don't want to share with, but not good when I'm finally ready to share them.

      Luckily, one of the few ways to reveal my secrets without my mind shutting me down is to type them out. So you get to learn the remaining bits of my past and a few of my secrets because of that reason! So here we go, finally getting this stuff out in the open! Yep, pretty exciting for me, but I'm guessing you're also excited to learn some new stuff about me! I'll start with the remains of my past that are locked away in my mind (no, they do not have anything to do with my PTSD, well, one thing is from around that time, but didn't contribute). I will write if it's before the event that caused PTSD, at the time the PTSD would be starting, or if it's after I have left the place that gave me PTSD.

      Before PTSD: My first school, it was a quiet private school, with not that many people and nice uniforms. Yeah, I think I was one of the few kids that liked the uniforms. But on to the important parts of this paragraph, this school was where I first got bullied. You're probably asking why a quiet person like me got bullied, but I also wasn't as quiet back then. Sure, I was a bit quiet, but I would go up to people and introduce myself and invite them to join my friends and myself. That rarely happens anymore, but I'll continue the story.

      I hated the bullying, and my closest friend would stick with me an defend me (I wasn't the best at defence then). I tried to befriend the bully, but my plan backfired. Some of my friends refused to hang out with me because I tried to turn the bully into a friend. When I told my friends I was trying to befriend the bully, they promptly left the lunch table in search of one far from me. Guess they forgot the Golden Rule (which I was trying to use on the bully), 'Treat others as you want to be treated'.

      Later that year, the bully left the school, and all returned to normal (not PTSD yet, that comes at the second school). There were other incidents that made me lose confidence, and started what I call, 'Micah's Do Everything As Quick As You Can' problem. I wasn't supposed to have homework (special exemption because homework is too stressful for me, along with Roman Numerals, had an exemption for those, too), yet I would still get given homework. Then I would get in trouble for doing the homework as quickly as I could while getting ready to go home.

      And there is the explanation for why I always do things so quickly. I've been told to slow down while working, while I'm walking (I occasionally will talk faster, but not often), typing something up, reading, pretty much for whatever I'm doing, I do quickly. But not around horses (unless I'm late, but that's different), horses always manage to keep me going at the perfect pace.

      Around a year or at the same time PTSD was starting up: This is about how I was betrayed by many people all in the same few years (rough estimate, not sure which of these friendship/trust betrayals came first). I'll start with the first betrayal, it was on of my closest friends at the second school,  we'll call them... Yeah, I don't know what name I should give them, so each person will be Traitor then a number.

      So, this is the story of the first betrayal by Traitor 1, Traitor 1 quickly befriended me. They weren't as popular as the other kids, but then again, I wasn't really either. We got along well, and after a few months, they started up with lies. They would lie about things, if I said I had something, they had it, but then their sibling accidentally ruined it, so it got thrown out. Then lying about loving the same things I did, things like horses, wolves, movies, books, etc.

      Then one day, I walked over to say hi, and I was ignored. When they finally decided to talk to me, all they told me was that we weren't friends anymore, and that I wasn't allowed to hang out with them anymore. Feeling rejected and used (and I had been used, trust me), I searched for a new group of friends. And I found a new group in mere minutes, and it was great! They were a diverse group, and they all got along so well!

       Then Traitor 1 decided I was allowed to hang out with them and be their friend again, and I fell for it. The next day, the same thing happened, I got rejected. I fell for that a few more times, then I finally realized what was happening after being told by my closest friend in the new group. My new closest friend and I were a grade older than the rest of the group, and both suffered a harsh rejection. The rest of the group said it was for our own good, as we wouldn't be having the same recess anymore. It wasn't fun being kicked out of the only group that would accept the two of us, so you can probably figure out how I felt, being rejected again.

       Neither of us were happy, and we ended up hanging out alone with each other, as it seemed we would always be rejected. We became such close friends, and it was amazing! Neither of us ever rejected each other or used the other, and this was my first friend that invited me over to their house! That had never happened before, so I could tell we were true friends. Then PTSD happened, and I avoided school and we didn't really see each other anymore.

      Probably the summer after I left the second school: Enter Traitors 2, 3, 4, and 5. We were a tight group of friends, and we hung out nearly every day (we lived close enough for this to be possible), but none of us really went to the same school. Later they all ended up at the same school, but that's a different story for another day. Traitor 2 betrayed me first, bullying me and excluding me. Then Traitor 2 got one of the others to join him, hence the name Traitor 3 (Traitor 3 is now one of my closest friends, and told me they're side of the story, they were being by Traitor 2 also, but they thought if they copied Traitor 2, they would be safe).

        It was horrible, but I slowly adapted to leaving and just sitting on my front lawn crying. Later, Traitor 4 entered the picture. Traitor 4 was worse than Traitor 2 and Traitor 3 combined, so I was having a hard time adapting, the one other member of the group who got bullied like me would always leave with me. Soon, I got the harshest yelling at I had ever received. I went to visit my mom and dog, who were down at my house. Traitor 4 didn't know why I was walking away (I knew they wouldn't want to come with me), so apparently I "abandoned them" by going to say hi to my mom and dog. I mean, seriously? If you saw your mom and dog going out for a walk, would you not go over, say hi, and pet your dog?

       Yeah, I refused to hang out with Traitor 2 and 4, as Traitor 3 was quite nice when the others weren't around. Traitor 3 soon got tired of being pushed around, and joined me also. The remaining three of us got along just fine, until Traitor 5 began to emerge (see the pattern yet?). Traitor 5 decided to only care about their looks and status at school, so the group was reduced to two members.

      Traitor 3 was no longer Traitor 3, and we were such close friends. Traitor 1 was calling my house a lot, but I never picked up the phone, never fell for those tricks again, and I was safe, for a little bit. Traitor 4 was now continually coming to see if I wanted to hang out, and my friend and I would fall for the tricks. Constantly yelled at and used, I'd had enough of this. I came up with a great strategy, and I no longer worry about Traitor 4 coming to see me. I would always pretend to be busy, and it worked. You'd think they would notice that I was always busy when they came to visit, and would have to leave when they came and the one person and I were out.

      Thus marks the end of the Traitors, and as Traitor 3 was now a close friend, we still hang out even now. I will never forget these moments, and combined with the teacher that gave me PTSD, I'd say my trust would be super super hard to earn. Even now, my secrets rarely get told, these memories locked in my mind, trying to get out. This is the day those memories finally get set free, even if I'm not really speaking them to my friends, this is the best I can give them, unless they ask me about this, then they probably will get more information out of me. Here's the perfect song for this post, pretty much about finally telling your secrets and your past, Secrets by OneRepublic.

      PS: Sorry this post was so long, but it was needed.

The Rules I Follow

      My mom and I had an argument recently, she wanted to add new rules to the house. I quickly disagreed, and that was mainly because my brain likes to make up rules without consulting me. Trust me, my brain really likes to do things without making sure it's allowed to. My mom and I had gone shopping, and she had bought a cupcake for me. Next thing I know, my brain made a parody of 'The Monster' by Eminem and Rihanna, and then my brain made the lyrics 'I'm friends with the cupcake that's in my hand'. 

      So as you can tell, my mind and I don't always get along very well. But the rules my brain makes up are even worse than a parody about cupcakes. I follow such silly rules, but even if I didn't want to follow them, I would still end up following them. I'll tell you a few of the rules I follow, because if I wrote them all, it would fill this whole post.

      1. Wash your hands after eating anything with common allergens in it and stuff like that   2. If you see a spider, stay away from the spot where it was for at least two days   3. Try to always use even numbers, unless you're walking/running/horseback riding   4. Always follow the preset patterns and routines that your mind makes up, don't change them, ever   5. Keep your secrets for as long as possible, there's always people out there who are just fake friends   6. Trust is the hardest thing to gain, so don't give out trust until you've known the person for at least a year, then you are permitted to reveal your own past

      An those are six of my many rules, but I've saved one of my important ones. Why? Because it needs a whole paragraph to be explained. If you don't want to do something because it scares you or you know you can't do it, follow the Micah rules of Fight or Flight. You can either pretend to be sick and go home, or start arguing and insulting to hide how you really feel and make the other person so mad that they leave. Also, if a car or something is coming fast toward you, stop right where you are and quickly figure out what to do.

      See why I don't always trust my brain? It's not always reliable in situations, and it makes it nearly impossible to trust someone. Some of the people I trust the most still don't know my complete past, unless they were one of the few who was actually there during those bits. And you know what? I'm writing another post about me not revealing my whole past to people, and I'll even reveal it there (if I can...).

      So, I hope you understand me a bit more now, and I hope my mom reads the one paragraph that's two up, one of the most important rules. Mainly because my mom got arguing bit of that one, and I think she's upset and doesn't understand my actions. It's mainly because I've had my trust broken so much that it's hard to trust again. Here's the link to the song, Hercules by Sara Bareilles.

Tuesday, 18 March 2014

Far From Fine

      Sorry again about skipping last week's post, I seem to be getting more and more stressed out. I came up with the title for the post because it's how I've been feeling lately, far from fine. Whenever people ask me how I'm feeling, I pretty much always say "good" or "fine". That's what I always tell people, that I'm fine, but I only do it because I'm afraid of admitting the truth about how I'm feeling. If I told people I was stressed, they may not believe me, or laugh at me. I also don't like talking about how I'm feeling, it's just to hard to actually say how I'm feeling.

      My parents think I hate them, but I really don't. They think I hate them because I was really stressed out and I took it out on them. I yelled insults at them and refused to do anything that I was asked. I'm not very proud of that moment, and I really don't want it to happen again. I really don't hate them, it's just that stress will change my reactions to things.

      A few nights ago, I got blamed for something I didn't do, and that caused a LOT of stress. My mom accidentally spilled tea all over herself, and since I was the only person standing up and not sitting on the couch, my Dad blamed me. It made me really upset because he pretty much yelled at me "What did you do?!". I then quickly left the room and refused to speak for two and a half hours. I ended up crying three times in less than ten minutes, so I really didn't like that.

      The next day, I wasn't feeling well. I think that I was so stressed that I ended up making myself sick. I was so sick that I didn't eat my lunch until two-thirty, and all I had was a small bowl of rice and a small bowl of soup. The dinner I had wasn't very different, a bowl of soup and a strawberry milkshake.

      Today I'm still not feeling well, and I have to miss my riding lesson, but I still get to see Winter on Thursday at least. Also, I will be going into my third type of therapy next week! I will be doing equine therapy, but I will be doing ground work with the horses! I may be doing some liberty training but I'm not sure, but I really want to! Here are links for the place, Horse Spirit Connections Video, Horse Spirit Connections Webpage.

      Also, I forgot to mention the biggest news EVER!!!!!! This Wednesday (aka: tomorrow), I will be getting my hair dyed! I'm getting one colored streak, probably a red, green, or blue, and I'm really excited! I'll have to get my hair bleached if I want the color, but it's only one tiny streak, so I don't mind! My Mom doesn't mind either, when she was younger, she also dyed her hair, too! So yeah, I'm really excited for that! And that's it for this week's post, so here come's this week's song link, Flaws by Bastille.