The Story of Being Mentally Ill
Hi, I’m Lou, and I had a great childhood!
Hi, I’m Lou, and I had a great childhood!
So, a few months ago, I wrote An Insomniac’s Guide to Insomnia. And, with everything going in the world right now, I figured that it’s only time that I come down from on high to deliver to you my Hypochondriac’s Guide to Hypochondria.
For a really long time, I committed my life to what I saw as the pursuit of perfection.
A few days ago, Trisha Paytas released a video. The internet’s most dedicated full-time troll, it’s not exactly as though she’s a stranger to controversy, but this video hit that internet sweet-spot and soon blew up in a big cloud of outrage. In it, Paytas claimed to have Disassociative Identity Disorder (DID), which, she mentioned, she had diagnosed herself.
Hi! I’m Louise, and I’m an asshole.
First and foremost, and since you asked: Yes! The title of this post is a reference to the amazing movie by Boots Riley that was out last year! Go watch it! Already! Please!
You ever see those adverts for Pepsi? The ones that list off a bunch of adjectives in a row about how great Pepsi is? Lip-smacking, thirst-quenching, ace-tasting, and so on and so forth. I get them stuck in my head a lot, because my useless hellbrain likes to torment me with nonsense that serves no purpose in my day-to-day life.
So, it’s been around half a year since I started writing about living with OCD and all the nonsense occasionally hilarious bullshit that comes with it. And thus, I thought now might be a good time to talk about some of the good that’s come from being diagnosed – namely, everything that’s actually worked to make my life a little more liveable now that I know what the heck I’m dealing with.
I wrote this post on a day when I was really, really struggling with anxiety after a stupid trigger set me off. I thought it might be helpful to cast some light on how exactly bad anxiety attacks can make life pretty hard when they’re in full force, so I’ve detailed my train of thought and my state of mind below. This isn’t a post trying to say that all people with OCD deal with this, or that anyone who has dealt with something similar has OCD: just a look at my own experiences with the illness, and how it impacts my functioning day-to-day.
Hi, honestly, I’ve just written this post because I want to talk about Trufa, the dog my parents are fostering right now and maybe the love of my life.
Look at her. LOOK at her. Look at her. Her little mismatching ears! Her white beard! She’s so distinguished! I only got to spend a few days with her and I’m honestly devastated. My cat who? We stan Trufa in this house. And speaking of bitches (heh), let’s get to me.