An Update.

Photo from an
upcoming series
by Alexis O

Since moving to Seattle I have been on a mental health roller coaster. I have spent a lot of time sleeping on the couch, and barely any time living. This transition has been hard. I left Omak and my medication behind, the medication being forgotten not because I'm delusional enough to think I don't need it, but because I didn't get a refill and then couldn't find an immediate way to get it over here in Seattle. I've been anxious and depressed, suicidal (no, I don't want to die, this a constant in my life), and exhausted.

As a result, my anxiety attacks have been through the roof. From melting down because I didn't know what type of ice cream sandwich to buy for my cousin to being convinced I had skin cancer (there was a pimple on my arm, I rarely get pimples, have never had one on my arm) and dissociating because of it, I spent three hours paralyzed with fear. According to the intake professional at Sound Mental Health, along with "flight or fight" reactions, there is also "freeze" and what I do is freeze.

Last Monday night I was in the ER being seen for emergency anxiety meds and some other troubling symptoms I'm sure is related to my anxiety, such as the aforementioned dissociation. After speaking with a social worker, I was set up with an appointment at Sound Mental Health within the next two days to get in for a prescription for my depression and anxiety, and to speak with them about the time-lapses and the (I suspect) intense PTSD that I have been repressing until recently, when being sexually assaulted and then upending my life to move across the state caused a lot of anxiety. It was there that I learned that it is very valid to say I have a personality disorder, along with my anxiety and depression. While the professional I spoke to wouldn't diagnose the exact personality disorder due it to just being an intake appointment, and I have some suspicions about what it will be, I will be going back to see another doctor to get more specific answers.

I have decided to start counseling and go on heavier medications to combat the anxiety and depression, because I'm ready to go back to living my life. Even having this idea that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, that I'm moving towards a more stable reality, has given me so much more energy than I had before. I've gone out and met people. I've made plans. I have medication from the ER to tide me over until I get in with a clinician next week, but mostly I have hope.

Having hope while having depression is something that rarely happens. I mean, I barely have the energy to brush my teeth, how am I supposed to muster up the energy to hope for things? Not only can I hope now, but today I did something I haven't done since moving to Seattle. I took a self portrait. I pulled out my camera and I just experienced the joy that photography used to give me. For the first time in months, I got that thrill again. Making art is so soothing. I'm so close to returning to the girl that I recognize as myself. I don't cry myself to sleep anymore, the isolation I first felt when I moved here is quickly disappearing, and I have more and more reasons to smile.

Taking the step to go to the doctor was hard and scary. Medical buildings of any kind tend to send me into panic mode. The feeling of unwellness that surrounds these places weighs on me and makes me feel unwell. I admittedly tried to turn around once I saw the ER doors. I have a great friend in this universe who has given me several pep talks outside hospitals and mental health buildings, I owe a lot of this greatness I feel to him.

I am feeling more broken than I have ever felt before, with more questions than ever, but I am hopeful and excited for the future. A better, stronger version of Alexis is on her way. Watch out.

Alexis Olmstead is a part time barista, full time diva living and working out of Seattle, Washington. She's currently on the search for answers about life, love, the meaning of the universe, and hopefully an affordable apartment. In her spare time she likes to change the lyrics to Earth, Wind, and Fire songs to be about her life. For more spontaneous updates on life with mental health issues, and random thoughts in general, check back often.

If you or someone you know is in danger of committing suicide, there is help, and you are loved. Please call the number below or go to their website for assistance. And as always, I am here for you.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-(800)-273-8255 (online chat available)

I Do Not Own This Body

Night time is the hardest. Because my body knows it should be asleep, but my brain won't get the hint. So I lay here, clutching the same teddy bear I've been sleeping with for almost 10 years now, praying for sleep to come. But I can't.

I have to go through the list of people who don't love me first. And then the people who pretend they want me around but don't really. Then the list of reasons my boyfriend should break up with me. After that its the bonus round of every horrible thing I've done or said in the past 23 years. On a really bad day it includes all the fights I've had with anyone ever. But lately it includes living a very new trauma.

A month ago I was sexually assaulted. Nothing, not selling the bed it happened on, not therapy, not upping my meds, can make me forget what it felt like to wake up with a man's hands down my pants. I will never forget as long as I live the feeling that I meant so little to the world that someone thought they could insert themselves into my body without permission. I can't stop seeing it. I can't stop seeing the look on his face when I wouldn't give him a hug before I kicked him out of my house. As if I was in the wrong. And then his dismissive apology "so that thing that happened....yeah that was weird". If I was a worse person I'd name him. I'd tell you all who he is, I'd whip the crowd into a frenzy and start a witch hunt. But I don't want that. I want peace. I want to stop seeing it in my mind. I want to forget it. I want to forget that I'm now a number, one of the many faces in the crowd, another college aged girl that fell asleep after drinking and was taken advantage of. The worst part? It was in my own home, and on the other side of me was my best friend. Also asleep. How sick do you have to be to do that to someone with such confidence?

And so now, when I can't sleep, I run through that list I mentioned before, and then the laundry list of reasons why I deserved it. Not the "oh she led him on" reasons, but the "I'm a bad person and this is karma" reasons. Is this somehow the universes form of balance?

It happened and then I had to go be in a show with this person. Two weekends of shows with someone who believed they had more rights to choose what happened to my body than I did. Two weekends of shows sitting next to them in the makeup room pretending I couldn't still feel their fingers invading me. Two weekends of shows pretending like just showing up wasn't a monumental feat for me. By the final show my body shut down. I had the worst panic attack I've ever experienced, I passed out just from standing up, I hit my head, I was puking, and I tried to not go. I couldn't say more than that I was sick. I was talked into going, I was accused of having a hangover, and all the while I was holding back this immeasurable rage and pain that I couldn't tell anyone about. I don't cry in public, and that day I couldn't hold back tears as I got into hair and makeup. The stage used to be my safe place and that whole afternoon I felt like a prisoner in what used to be my home.

Since then I've been the absolute worst. I've been clingier as a girlfriend than I've ever known myself to be. I feel like my strength is gone. I'm scared to be on my own. I'm scared to sleep. I'm scared to drink too much and then fall asleep. Sometimes I'm just scared to drink. I don't trust anyone or anything. I feel like I'm watching myself go through motions, not living them, just seeing someone else control the ship while I watch. I'm trying to put on brave face. I'm trying to be happy for everyone. I'm trying to sleep normally, but I can't. He stole that from me. He took the little amounts of joy, the little amounts of normalcy, the tiny bit of hope I had, and he crushed it with one action. And I don't think I'll ever be the same.

I'm so fucking exhausted.