I was really angry the last time I blogged — I even cried afterwards with my door closed, because I didn’t want to upset my niece or worry anyone — and it did help to express some of the anger I still battle with. But I also looked at it later and realised that while my anger may never leave me, it doesn’t define me, and I wanted to write more positively.

Writing about myself has always been hard for me — am I talking too much? Am I giving too much information? Am I only giving out weird anecdotal facts, rather than anything of substance? Then I found an app — called Gratitude — that used small journal prompts to help with mental health (and gratitude, of course). It gave me the idea to use some journal prompts to answer, rather than providing anything I think to be interesting.

Some of these are from the app itself — which I recommend! There’s no character limit, so making the answers small or big isn’t the actual goal — and some are from around the internet. I’ll credit all sites I’ve used prompts from at the end of the post.

If I fast forwarded to thirty days from now, what would I tell myself?

Be kinder to yourself: you are trying, and that’s all anyone or anything can ask of you.

What music do you listen to, and why?

Jesus, I never should have taken this one, but whatever, I already typed it out: everything besides country? It honestly depends on my mood, and what I’m doing. I like listening to rap, R & B, and pop music when I’m coding or using my computer. If I’m relaxing or just in the mood to listen, I go for all kinds of rock, metal, and folk music. If I’m trying to calm myself down, I’ll pick whole albums, like We Are Not Alone by Breaking Benjamin, or ARTPOP by Lady Gaga. I’ll even throw in an album by Enigma or Moby‘s weird crap.

If you can travel back in time, what do you wish you can tell yourself?

I’ve often thought of this, and I honestly, for a very long time, drew a huge blank. How can I possibly sum up my experiences now for younger me to even grasp? What if I scared younger me into living even less than I did? And I think now I know:

Have fun. Please? Things have happened, and things will happen, but fun isn’t always in demand, and there are times where fun is presented to you temporarily. You will still suffer, and you will mourn, and you will grieve, but have — fucking — FUN. Join your sister at Warp Tour; go fishing with your Dad; paint your nails with your Mom. Tell Matthew you love him and can’t imagine a world that doesn’t have him in it. Tell Alex you love her, too, and that she can confide in you without judgement. Be in the moment when these things happen, and not in your head.

How are you different from others?

My severe lack of confidence or self-esteem mixed in with some pretty killer insight. I’m also a walking lie detector with the hearing range of a hound dog. (Seriously, I can hear really well. It’s incredibly off-putting, and oftentimes overwhelming.) Let me put it this way: while IN A PSYCH UNIT, I was considered “high functioning”, and was consistently complimented on my foresight, intuition, and listening ability. All greats things to hear, but maybe not in a psych unit?

What can you not imagine living without?

Other than my loved ones — duh — I’d say my animals. They’re one of the only species that gives unconditional love and doesn’t care that you’re a hot mess. In my experience, their love can almost be unmatched.

What color would you say best describes you? Why do you think so?

I’m known for loving all colors and being difficult when having to choose even less than five. However, if I did have to choose, I’d say pink. I’m calm most of the time — thanks, medication! — and I know my last post did not exemplify this, but I’m slow to get angry. Once I’m there, though, I run that shit into the ground before I’m ready to move on. I use weed and anti-anxiety medication simultaneously because if I don’t, I’ll get anxiety attacks that leave me showering in the dark and then never using a light again because in my mentally ill mind, if people can’t see me, I’m not technically there, and for reasons I won’t look at, it makes my anxiety better. And I think that that kind of energy — slow to anger; can cut a bitch with my tongue alone; happy, anxious, hyperactive, and/or high otherwise — says pink. Like a soft pink, maybe between a salmon and bubblegum shade?

When do you feel the happiest and most content?

At my happiest, I have a joint in hand that I’m sharing with my sister, while we watch Detroit Rock City for the 159th time, and we’re drinking a light beer, while eating street corn and corn chips. Bonus points if there’s a heating pad or CBD cream involved.

Credits

64 Journaling Prompts

80 Journaling Prompts

110 Journal Prompts

And by “bad” I mean “really fucking awful” but I don’t want to come off as less than hubristic. At least in concerns to my pain, and not the day in general.

I feel like it should be said that I’m on my period, despite not being emotionally affected by them. I have never, in my 33 1/2 years of life, experienced PMS or anything period symptom-related, except for (you guessed it!) the pain. All I get is the pain part: painful cramps, painful pelvic floor, and a painful lower back. I don’t fluctuate my emotions as easily, but I am on a mood stabilizer, as well as an anti-anxiety medication, so I would hope my doctor and I’s medication plan is actually working.

Right now, though, I’m just… angry. Angry at being in pain. Angry that I have to feel it at all, and my period only makes it worse. I’m angry that I’ve picked friends I thought were good friends, and they’re not, and I’m so picky as is. I’m angry that I’m more upset with myself for picking them, than their shitty behavior. I’m angry that I’m angry, because while anger isn’t a bad emotion, it’s still a powerful one, and it’s not one I want to feel all the time, much less when I’m battling for my life through a monthly fucking period that keeps coming. I’m glad for it — it keeps my hormones regulated — but I’m never gonna need my uterus. I don’t need to explain it, because I know with all my heart, mind, and gut instinct I won’t need or want to use it. As much as menopause sounds like a nightmare, it not’s a painful period that makes my chronic pain worse.

I do want to be a better person, and blog about nice, cool things. I want to blog when I’m happy, or excited, or even bored. I don’t necessarily care about visitors, but I want to be able to blog when the pain isn’t bad, but I’m so busy catching up on the shit I couldn’t do because of the pain, that at the end of the day, I’m wiped mentally and physically. I think more than anything, I want to blog about not being in pain, and that’s never going to happen again. I wish I was more sad and hurt by that, but I’m so angry right now, all I can really do is mourn a life I’ll never have again. If I didn’t believe in karma/being a good person, I’d cast a minor spell, like, “how to get people off my dick”, but as witches know, do unto others, et el.

I know the pain will ease, and some of my days will get better. I know today is just one day in a line or many that will knock me on my ass, but it’s so hard to live life like that. It’s hard knowing it’ll come, or that it’s here, or that doing X, Y, or Z will exacerbate it. I used to wish for a lot of things if X happened, but now all I can wish, dream, and try for is being pain free, if only for a minute.