So I am of course, back in Hawaii living the LIFE! Unless you count the fact that my meds make me so distracted I can’t finish sentences. Or that Tongan man. Or my best friend in Jerusalem. Or the fact that said medication is also keeping me up until 1:00 am minimum and I started some physical therapy that hurts like hell and I’m pretty discouraged.
ASIDES THAT I am training for my first hula festival! AND AND ANNNNDDDDDDDDDD
I am raising money for a PTSD service dog!!!!! It is HELLA expensive but I am working my butt off to get that money done did. It’s a lot of steps and will probably take a year. I don’t want to pressure anyone but if you’ve been reading this blog and you like me 😉 you should consider donating. I don’t care if it’s $5 I am literally checking couch cushions for pennies and raising baby tomatoes to sell and trying to get another job and selling off my stuff and trying to get a merit scholarship and eating ramen.
I’m reduced to eating Ramen…
This girl’s dedicated.
Now. Why do I need a PTSD service dog? If you’ve been here before you know now that I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Depression, and Anorexia Nervosa and I’ve had it for over 2 years. It was triggered by the loss of my grandma Karen in September 2015 and I have been through the river and over the mountain with this. My own little dog passed away June 2016 which is the same time I got a tibial stress fracture from overtraining, sleep deprivation, and burning 4,000 calories a day and eating about 900 calories (don’t do it). Same day my best friend walked out on me.
I haven’t slept through a full night in over 2 years. Every day I have flashbacks and I deal with my depression and severe mood swings. I have been going to therapy since May 2016 because my doctor was very very good at her job and asked the question “How are things at home?” and not just “How bad does your stress fracture hurt?”. Since then I’ve been through a lot of life. I also lost my best friend to illness 2 weeks before I moved to Hawaii and an uncle 2 days after her.
Obviously, that didn’t help.
I started college in Hawaii which my parents have been saving for FOREVER to pay for and I worked in high school, but my condition continued to deteriorate. I became suicidal and had to be stopped from at least 5 attempts on my own life. In February I got addicted to self-harm. My school had zero infrastructure and I had been going to therapy and exercising and following my diet. I even got back to my initial weight pre-anorexia all in muscle and had a great six pack. BUT my therapist looked at me and said “I don’t think you were ever raped.”
See. The part of my story that I haven’t mentioned yet is that from the age of 4 there was a man in my life who raped me, tortured me, and threatened me. For over 9 years I was subjected to all forms of rape- particularly sadomasochism. He was a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in pretty high standing in a small community in Utah. I didn’t remember what happened even though I would reenact the rape with my Barbie dolls from about the age of 6- needless to say, being raised LDS, I had no sexual exposure in the home. No magazines, no movies with sex, no internet access. There’s only one place that could have come from.
My PTSD broke all my relationships and got in the way of almost everything I wanted. I’ve been fighting day in day out just to do the basic things most of you don’t even think about. Having to eat this much food and log it. Setting timers on exercise. Having a very exact schedule and routine for EVERYTHING including sleep, time with people, school, and now work. On top of that my PTSD can set off at literally any minute and I have panic attacks. In class, at the store, at school, in front of my friends, at night, in the morning, my PTSD does not discriminate.
I was also sexually assaulted here at school and the guy got off, BTW. But then for over 10 months now I have been dealing with gossip, rumors, and bullying. And not even just that. I lost my whole friend group from pre-assault too. And I had been leaving to go to Partial Hospitalization treatment anyways so 2 weeks after the assault I went to treatment off-island, knowing no one there. I got through it. I got on medication and take it faithfully, I connected to several doctors over here and tried to get the best support group I could. Treatment was 4 months of hell. I’m really, really, really lucky to be alive today and it’s amazing how healthy my body is considering what I’ve been through. I’m amazed I can even get out of bed.
I don’t want you to feel too sorry for me. I’m a fighter. Go back to my other posts (start at about June because that’s when I got back from the hospital and I remembered I have a sense of humor) and you’ll see that.
Here is the point of all that. My biggest problem is that I love people. I love people so much that it was what prevented me from committing suicide every time. The problem? Let me put it this way. You think about someone you love, imagine their face, their smile, and then hear them say I love you and say it back and cuddle.
Feelin’ warm and fuzzy?
That. Is what I don’t have. Right now, I ‘m not capable of it. THE DAMS ARE UP. My walls are so so soo high. I trust, no one with my feelings. I’m fine with telling them information, hanging out with them, and lots of stuff, but at the end of the day no matter how many times they say I love you and reach out to me all I feel is even more alone because I can’t feel affection for them.
I’m starving for connection. I’m starving to feel wanted and needed and honestly I am awake almost every night crying because I wish I could just cuddle with someone for a few hours and make the horrible nightmare go away. It’s incredibly scary realizing that no matter what I do, I can’t just make this all go away on my own. Every day is a challenge.
But as I said. I am a fighter. And I have a lot, a lot of work to do. Somehow, I need a relationship in my life that is stable, safe, and a solid connection I can count on. Snuggling a plus!
I can connect to one thing. Animals. Horses, cats, dogs all of that. I love animals with a passion. I had one dog, Angel, and I loved her so much, that when she died, it broke me. I felt like I could handle the rape, the flashbacks, the nightmares, I felt like I could handle anything… except losing Angel.
Since the day of her death I have starved for connection. I couldn’t bear to open my heart. I tried a few times, but it ended so badly each time and it never ever replaced the bond I had with my dog. That bond was of perfect, unconditional, eternal love. I could never love a person as much as I loved her.
My faith was also lost. I lost the feeling of emotional connection with God. I do work every day on that relationship, but can you imagine being on your knees every night praying God do you love me? Help me. Tell me you are there. And feeling nothing. And then going to church and feeling so soo horrible because besides everything else, I can’t have a boyfriend. My PTSD goes nuts whenever a man tries to get close to me emotionally. And I don’t want to go down the LDS path anymore. I don’t want to get married. I don’t want to have kids.
I just want to live this life to the fullest and heal myself and I want to finally do something for myself.
I can’t explain in any language I speak, just how important having this dog would be to me. I am absolutely fully committed to bringing a dog into my life but the hospital bills and medical bills I have already had to pay because of all of this LIFE are draining everything I and my family have. I wish I could say this was a whim but after 2 years I’ve been thinking so much about what makes me go back to my addictive behaviors of self-starvation and self-abuse and I realized it’s because I feel disconnected and alone.
It would be easy to give up on people. It would also be easy to throw myself into sexual relationships to try to feel some form of connection with others. But despite everything, I am still fighting for myself. I want to be able to have that feeling of love and connection with my family. I want to be able to help people. I want to be able to say “I love you” and actually feel the emotions that go with what I am saying. I hate the hypocrisy of saying I love you and not feeling it. I have never been someone to fake or lie in any relationship.
And I am tired. I am so soo tired. It’s weariness on a level only someone with chronic illness can understand. Some days I beg for release from the pain, but as I said, if you look at this blog, I never gave up the fight. In all this time, I pulled myself through, regardless of any obstacle no matter how scary.
And yes I have thought about the commitment and also if you read my blog, I was doing about 20 hours a week with travel and dr appointments all over the island AND got A’s and B’s in school AND had nearly perfect attendance. I am high-functioning even though it’s hard and I feel that in the long term, the commitment of having a dog will help me need the other medical care less and less over time.
Life’s hard. But I’m the Queen so it’s even harder. I can’t afford to be weak. I can’t afford to throw myself into someone else’s arms and let them handle it for me. The help others can offer is very limited.
Today I’m asking for your help (which is very very hard for me to do because I don’t like admitting I need help. I’m also stubborn.). As little or as much as you want, please donate to help me find a companion. Or if that’s too much to ask, please share the link on your Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, anything.
*the program I am working with is called ArizonaGoldens. It’s a very very supportive long-term program and the owner is great at staying up with the process and training of the dog as well as placement. You can find their site here:https://www.azgoldensllc.com/copy-of-home-1
The website for my fundraiser mahalo ❤