Stop

I don’t want to worry anyone.

Some of you know what happened. Some of you don’t.

When I was really depressed for many years, the question that I hated the most is “are you okay?” It’s not that I don’t appreciate the concern. I just don’t want to be bothered. I know you can see it on my face. I don’t want you to ask me about it. If I want to say something, I will seek you out. I guess maybe the problem is that I often don’t talk to anyone. But that’s my problem to deal with, not yours. No one can force me to speak. This is me speaking. This is my voice.

I’ve been plagued by dreams I can barely remember. Snippets and flashes. Nightmares, really. I don’t wake up afraid. But not long after, the panic attack settles in. I can’t breathe and my heart races. I feel jittery. Shaky. Maybe part of the shakes is the lack of food, but I’m convinced it’s also from fear. This morning, it happened as I was driving in stop and go traffic on the way to work. I was behind a semi, and I thought, what if he was stopped and I was going very fast and didn’t press the brakes. Would I die? Would I be injured? Maybe I should unbuckle my seat belt. This wasn’t the first time I’ve ever thought about crashing my car on purpose. Not by a long shot. I’ve thought of this so many times in the past, in previous years.

Then it was so hard, putting one foot in front of the other. I wanted to stop moving. I wanted to crumple up on the floor and let people trample me, kick me to the side. I imagined pulling myself forward on the ground, my nails bloody from the effort, torn. Because it’s excruciating. It’s excruciating when the world is moving but you want to stop. I don’t want to die. I want to no longer exist.

But for some reason, I continued on with my day. I imagined myself tearing out my eyeballs with those same broken, bleeding fingernails. I imagined shooting myself in the face. The minutes crawled by, the hours even worse. I battled the panic attacks, and I don’t know why. Why am I fighting this so hard? I could just let it take over, and I’ll hyper ventilate to death.

It’s funny. It’s the same kind of trauma. But my flashbacks aren’t to my childhood. They’re to that night. I’m the girl that is frozen. I’m the girl that can’t scream. I’m the girl that can’t run away. What if I had run away? Maybe I didn’t even have the ability to. I crawled away because I was once again broken. What place do broken people have in the world? Maybe some people are meant to be broken, flailing about with their bleeding fingers. We never really had the chance, it was only the illusion of something better.

I wish I could take a knife, and carve into his skin. Watch blood roll down from the wounds. Hear his screams and cut again and again, over and over. Torture him until he’s an inch from death. And then stop. Stop so he’ll live with his physical scars, his maimed body. His body can be a reflection of my mind. And not because I would enjoy doing this. Not because I would take pleasure in it. But because he shouldn’t be allowed to hurt anyone else ever again.

I am not whole. My heart races and my breath is heavy and uneven. I see the world moving around me, but I can’t take part in it. I can only live within the confines of thoughts that echo. Fresh memories that haunt and nightmares that entangle my mind, shadows that take hold and squeeze life out of me. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t get away from this. I can’t pretend that I’m not drowning in air. I want the noise in my head to stop. I want to stop feeling things. I want to stop having thoughts. I want everything to go away.

When will the ability to move one foot in front of the other cease? When will I give up from exhaustion?

The world moves. I just want it to stop. I want to stop.

Are you okay?

No.

Are you going to be okay?

I don’t know.

Everything just needs to stop.

Relationships and Dating

Have you ever liked more than one person at the same time? What did you do about it? Normally you have to choose someone, right? And someone always says “I don’t want to be someone’s second choice.” Because what if you picked someone and it didn’t work out but you still like the other person?

I’ve liked more than one person at the same time, more than once. This must be a “normal” thing, if it has happened to me more than once. Why do we have to choose? Why is there such a stigma with open relationships and polyamory?

I am frozen in the face of choices. Especially the difficult ones. I have made so many bad decisions in my life, it’s really hard for me now to make them. I think and think and think until my brain is tired. And think some more. I think so much, so long, that whatever situation that required a choice is removed from my hands, in some way. And if I do make a decision, I instantly doubt. I second guess. I live in “what if” land. What if I had chosen that other thing? What would have happened? Did I do the right thing? Maybe part of my problem isn’t just that I’ve made poor decisions, but that my father has always been extremely hard on me for every decision I’ve ever made. Well, maybe not ever, but it really does feel that way. I’ve grown up terrified of disappointing him in some way, and it’s been this way ever since I was a child. I’ve hidden things from my father because I was so scared of seeming unworthy in his eyes. It’s always been important to me to make my dad proud of me. This seems to have reflected itself in every decision I have to make, now. It doesn’t matter what it is.

So back to relationships, in the past when I’ve liked more than one person at once, I never made decisions about choosing someone. And the opportunities for something more pass by. With both of them. So why do we have to choose? This is more than me not being about to make choices in such things. I truly think that if people want to be with more than one person, they should be. Who cares about conventionalism or norms? I wish the opportunity could be had to try, and see who works and who doesn’t. Or if both do, it doesn’t matter. If people can be with who they want as far as gender, why not the number of partners?

It’s frustrating. I never know what to do. I was the kid that stood in front of the candy aisle for twenty minutes, trying to figure out what I wanted whenever my dad took me somewhere. I can spend all day in the bookstore. Because, books. Anyway, this hasn’t helped me much and I’m as confused as ever.

Temptation Island

I’ve decided to showcase one of my fragrances every once in a while, so that more people can make decisions on what they may want as far as fragrances. My pick for tonight is Temptation Island, the newest of the limited editions.

The way that I decide if I want a full sized bottle of a fragrance oil is to first buy a sample size and consider the candles made from it limited editions. If I get good feedback from the customers, I will buy a full sized bottle and have it as regular stock in my line. This way, I can also get a sense of what people want!

Temptation Island is an excellent blend of cantaloupe, honeydew, and watermelon; with citrus top notes of mandarin, tangerine, grapefruit and lime; with just a hint of juicy McIntosh apples. It’s nice and fruity, but not overly so. The most noticeable scent is cantaloupe and honeydew on first cold throw sniff. The other scents meld with those notes as it burns, a harmonious combination of citrus and melons. It’s a lighter scent, but for a fan of softer fruit notes, this is definitely right for you!

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Available in both 4oz jelly jar and 2oz status jar ($5 and $2.25 respectively), you can make a choice that’s right for you as far as size. Currently, everything in the shop is already 10% off, so get these while you can! You can reach the direct links for the 4oz here and the 2oz here, or browse the entire shop here.

I make my candles with a blended soy wax, and it will burn completely if burned properly, instead of “tunneling,” which is what happens with most candles you buy in the store. The wax won’t burn all the way around, leaving a lot of wasted wax on the sides. There will be only a little wax left at the bottom once the wick tab burns out.

**As with any candle, make sure to trim the wick before every burn to prevent smoking from the wick, and also make sure the candle burns for at least two hours at a time**

The Importance of Fragrance

Some people may know how important it is for people to be around fragrances that they enjoy, but some people might not. In the human brain, the area that has to do with sense of smell is the sense that is most connected with memory and emotion. This means that you should be around fragrances that have the best impression with you personally.

In addition, good scents can boost self-confidence and reduce stress. When you’re contemplating which fragrance to choose, keep in mind a smell that’s associated with a good memory. Sniffing a familiar scent or notes of one has an impact on emotions, and sweet scents are ones that have the best impact on a better mood. Relaxing fragrances are usually ones like jasmine, lavender, and chamomile.

Is it any wonder that my best selling candle is Cotton Candy? It’s a sugary sweet fragrance, that reminds us of being excited children at the fair, begging for that sticky, delicious confection that melts on our tongues. It speaks to us of the excitement of fair rides and the games we try so hard to win, lugging around stuffed animals and spinning around and around on the Tilt-A-Whirl, and high in the sky on the Ferris Wheel. As sweet as it is, Cotton Candy is a scent that triggers good emotions and happy memories.

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Getting away from the sweet, it’s the musky scents that evoke sensuality. My other best seller is Dragon’s Blood, and it’s no surprise. As a heavier fragrance, while not exactly sexy, it’s still got that heavy base of patchouli that people love so much.

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There are other ways to get scents that aren’t so patchouli based, such as Woods of Vanilla, with vanilla mixed in to smooth out the base notes of patchouli, cedarwood, and sandalwood. It’s a sultry blend of woodsy scents that is sure to spike your senses.

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There are plenty of other fragrances to entice your senses, and these are just a few. No matter what scent you choose, just think about the scents that you find pleasant, and that will trigger good moods for you. There are many to choose from, plus limited editions.

Can’t burn candles? That’s okay! There’s always sachet bags filled with aroma beads or air freshener spray filled with the scent of your choice. Want to moisturize with your favorite scent? There’s lotion or body butter.

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No matter how you get your favorite fragrance, there’s a way to get it to you. Have a suggestion of what you would like to see in the shop, a product or a scent? Don’t hesitate to let me know! If you’re unsure if you’ll like a certain scent or not, you can always grab a 2oz jar ($2.25) or a 2oz jar ($2). Want to melt a tart in a warmer? 1oz heart shaped tarts are $1 each! There’s also scoopable wax, so you control how much you want melt!

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Improve your mood by choosing what fragrances are in your life and shopping at Savory Scents. Remember, I will always custom make something for you, so be sure to ask! Savory Scents candles are made with a blend of soy and other vegetable waxes and burns beautifully all around, never leaving any excess wax until the very end if burned properly (burned at least 2 hours at a time).

Social Media

So I have a couple of IRL friends that have given me some grief for constantly being plugged into the internet, and I feel like I should address this, because it’s important to me.

For the first thing I want to say, is that blogging has been a part of my life for nearly ten years. It will be ten years next month when I started my Xanga. That place has been a golden haven for me, a place where I have healed and revealed my deepest secrets. I’ve created many friendships through that website, and while I’ve lost touch with many of them throughout the years, doesn’t mean that they weren’t special to me in that time.

Social media has been a way for me to connect to people all over the globe. I’ve been friends with a guitar player in Greece, and made a great friend from England. There are others that I’ve connected with but don’t remember too well. There are people from Australia, Norway, and Sweden, just to name a few more. There’s a lovely lady and her husband (I’m not really friends with him, though) from Canada. And there’s people all over the US I’ve become friends with. How can someone say that’s a bad thing? I’ve learned about other cultures through discussions with them, and also had my dreams crushed. Apparently, in England, one only says that they fancy someone if they’re immature, such as a middle schooler. *sigh* Damn movies, for lying to me, because I thought that was really cute! Well, at least I now know.

Interacting with people via social media has also allowed me to become successful with growing my internet business of candle making. I would not be where I am today without my social media contacts. I tried selling Mary Kay, but I am just not good at face to face selling. Besides that, more and more people buy off the internet anyway. Amazon and eBay are HUGE enterprises! People buy millions of products off the internet every day! I’m so glad I have my network of social media contacts so I can continue to grow both my network and my business, which brings me to my next point.

I wish to also become a freelance writer. I don’t think people realize how big the market is for freelancing. Of course, it’s competitive, but once you get started with your first few jobs, it’s easier to do. Getting your foot in the door and starting a reputation is the biggest hurdle to cross. For this reason am I very thankful that I’ve been blogging for ten years. I have a history of personal blogging behind me to help, and being a Top Blogger at that! I also have a community of “internet people” to support me in my goal.

These two goals of freelance writing and my internet candle business are what’s going to help me with my ultimate goal of becoming self employed. I could never be self employed if it wasn’t for the internet and my network of internet buddies! I wholly appreciate everyone who has supported me in some way over the years, and it’s been an amazing journey, and one that isn’t going to end soon.

There was another point that someone brought up, and that sometimes I may be toiling away on social media when I could be more productive in doing things for my business. I have to admit, that when this was first brought to me, I was very defensive and reacted poorly. However, I’ve thought a lot about this. Yes, there are times when I could be doing other things. But, interacting with people via social media is a part of my business. Even if it seems like I’m goofing off, I’m still maintaining relationships that are helping me in the long run, with my reputation as a business owner and budding freelancer.

All in all, I’m happy with my network, and I look to expand my network of people on the internet. After all, I want to get to the point where I can go on vacation for a few weeks somewhere and still be able to get paid to write. That will eventually be possible because of my social network, and I’m not ashamed of it.

Not Without My Coffee

I’m an introverted extrovert. Meaning, I don’t like talking to people I don’t know, unless I know them. What a conundrum, huh? It does make difficulties in meeting new people and friends. I love to talk, I just need to feel comfortable around you first. Of course, if this is a morning time situation, I can’t do anything until I’ve had some coffee. I will freely admit to being a drug addict. I need caffeine to function in the morning. But there’s a problem. I don’t have any coffee until I get to work! I drink the free coffee in the break room, which isn’t bad, it’s actually pretty good. But getting there? There’s a while between the time that I wake up until I get in to the break room. My morning drives are not normally pleasant, and drivers irritate me more than normal.

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Sometimes, someone will want to small talk chatter with me in the elevator down to the floor I work on, or in the break room before I’ve had a sip of coffee. I’m sorry, I’m not interested until I’ve had my morning coffee.

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I don’t care that you’re tired, or what your night was like. I don’t care what you think of the weather. I’m not interested in anything you have to say until I have some coffee in my system.

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I’m one of those coffee drinkers that takes that first sip and closes my eyes, sighing in content. The coffee makes the world right again. Sometimes, the coffee pot is empty and I have to make another one, and wait while it percolates. I get even more irritated.

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Just please, don’t try communicating with me until I have some coffee. Otherwise, I kindly smile all the while wanting to rip your face off.

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Of course, this wouldn’t be a problem if I didn’t have to wake up so early in the morning. I hate mornings. I would rather stay up all night and sleep in until 9am or so. Obviously, since it’s 11:09pm as I write this. Oh well. Tomorrow I’ll just have to have some coffee.

Is Mental Illness a Myth?

First, I should probably explain a little bit about this blog. I have a few other WordPress blogs, but they are specialized. There’s the nutrition blog, where I’m trying to keep myself accountable with healthier choices (of which, I have done horribly for the last five days); the political blog, where I describe my philosophies on liberty and living freely; and then there’s the fiction blog, where I put my creative writings. This one I created for more general topics that don’t fit in those categories. I want to become a freelance writer, so I’m trying to create a couple of niche blogs.

Recently on Free Talk Live, the topic of mental illness has come up. I was going to school for psychology. I wanted to get my master’s degree in the field of clinical psychology because I want an LPCC (Licensed Professional Clinical Counselor) so I can be a licensed therapist. I dropped out for more than one reason. But anyway, on FTL, they talked about this book called The Myth of Mental Illness, of which I have admittedly not read. However, I briefly read the Wiki page, and I can sort of see the argument. I can see that the field of psychiatry has become a drug pusher of the worst kind. BUT!! It’s completely legal for doctors to do it, right? That makes it more moral than buying some weed from a friend, right? I’m sorry, I digress a little.

In 2011, 1 in 10 Americans were on antidepressants. That may not seem like a lot, but it’s actually up 400% from 1994, as the article states. There’s a reason for this. The drug companies push drugs on doctors like there’s no tomorrow, I think we all know this (if you don’t..have you been living under a rock?). In my abnormal psychology class, the professor was talking about how most doctors would rather see 3 patients in an hour to prescribe a medication rather than sit with a patient for 50-60 minutes talking about their issues. Why is this? Because the drugs pay more. Everyone wants more money and kickbacks from the drug industry, right? The fields of counseling and therapy are a dwindling race as more and more people are being prescribed drugs instead of talking about their issues and working through them in psychotherapy. So in this regard, I can see how some might consider mental illness a “myth.”

However. Doctors just prescribing medication instead of therapy isn’t the sole factor here. There are brain scans that can be done to show how the brain is acting differently when someone is depressed. Since these brain changes effect not just the brain, but also the mind, that’s proof right there that that mental illness isn’t a “myth.” It’s just not being treated properly.

If someone is depressed from a bad situation or trauma of some kind, the answer is NOT to shove pills down their throat. The issues need to be worked out in therapy of some kind, such as cognitive psychotherapy or behavioral psychotherapy, or a combination of therapies that actually help someone. As long as we’re on the subject of drugs, I don’t see a problem with someone self-medicating with weed. However, there’s a line. Once ANY drug or vice becomes an unhealthy coping method because someone doesn’t want to deal with their issues, they should stop self-medicating and seek professional help in therapy, because that is not healthy.

The other problem with this is that any doctor can prescribe antidepressants, even family physicians. I do not think this is right either. Let me be absolutely clear when I say that there are legitimate uses for medication for treating mental illness. I am wholly aware that some problems are larger than just what therapy can provide. However, prescribing medication should be on a case by case basis. If you’re sad and depressed because your parent/spouse/brother/sister died tragically, you don’t need antidepressants. You need therapy. If you have PTSD because of a traumatic event, you may need medication for some more severe symptoms, but you more so need therapy. Bipolar I and II you should probably have some sort of medication, unless you’ve learned how to deal with it on your own. Psychosis and schizophrenia you more than likely need antipsychotics (though, I have recently met one amazing woman who has learned to deal without medication, and huge kudos to her).

Personally, I have experienced my share of mental illness, both in myself and in my family. After I graduated high school, I spiraled into the darkest depression I have ever known. I was literally like a zombie. I went to work, I came home, put on some sad music, and laid in bed, staring at the wall. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve felt that kind of depression, what it’s like. Nothing brings you joy, and no one understands. You think people are lying when they tell you they do understand, because how could they possibly? My world was dark and black, and I literally felt nothing. I wasn’t happy, I wasn’t sad, I wasn’t angry. I was nothing. Do you know how terrifying it is to feel nothing at all? I started cutting, a lot. The funny thing? Blood and injuries freak me out and make me nauseous. But I didn’t do it for that. I did it because it allowed me to feel. Feel something. Even if I was hurting myself, it was something. I later learned that cutting releases endorphins, so I was doing drugs without doing drugs. I have hundreds of scars, though most of them are faded to the point of barely being able to see them. It’s been a long time since I’ve done it, but I am not ashamed. I don’t need it anymore. But in that time, there were times I would poke my head out of the waves of darkness, and I was terrified. I was terrified of myself. I thought that I really should check myself into a mental hospital, because this was not okay. I feared for my sanity.

But somehow, I overcame that horrifying depression without drugs or therapy. I still don’t really know what catapulted me out of it, but I started changing my thoughts. I changed my brain chemistry without SSRIs. I changed the neural pathways without help. I probably should have sought therapy, though, because I’ve had a lot of childhood trauma. I did a couple of years ago, when I was terrified of my thoughts. I had been in a funk for a few days, when I had the sudden thought, I need to die. It wasn’t that I was thinking about how to kill myself, but it was an all-encompassing knowledge that I just had to die. I found a wonderful therapist and saw her for a while, but we didn’t get to the root of my issues: that I had been molested as a child. I still don’t know if I should go back to therapy to talk about that, but I feel like I might be mostly past it. We will see as time goes on.

As far as instances where I know medication needs to be used, is last summer my youngest sister developed psychosis. As far as I know, her official diagnosis is psychosis NOS (not otherwise specified), and hasn’t moved on to schizophrenia (which I’ve always thought she has…but schizophrenia is a type of psychosis). She’s been hospitalized three times; twice for psychotic episodes and once to get her medication regulated. The second time in the hospital was the worst, and it’s hard to explain. She was in a full psychotic episode, whereas the first time she was just really confused and acting abnormally.

The second time she was in the hospital, she was completely out of it. I saw her every day, and it was the hardest thing to see in my life. She couldn’t speak in full sentences, and cried. Constantly. She thought she had murdered us all in a fire, that she had killed us, and we where just people that looked like her family. She said “I’m sorry” over and over and over. She didn’t like the color red because it was evil, and she liked butterflies because I have a butterfly tattoo on my wrist. At one point, she decided that she had to kill herself because she had done the awful thing of killing her family in a fire. She would try and choke herself to death. Now, normally, if someone with a conscious mind tries to suffocate themselves, they cannot. Their brain would scream and tell themselves that they need to breathe, and unconsciously their body would take steps to allow them to breathe again. When someone is mentally gone, would that process happen? Even after they pass out, would they stop? I don’t know. More than once, I had to wrestle her hands from their deathgrip around her throat. She was on 24 hour nurse watch. It’s hard to explain how she wasn’t mentally sound. But trust me when I say, she needs to be on antipsychotics.

Yes, I know that there are people that truly need medication, but the over prescribing of meds seems to invalidate the viewpoint that there are people that need it. Drugs should be prescribed on a case by case basis, and they aren’t something to fool around with. Many times, some therapy would probably be a better solution that actually gets to the root of a problem. Or, a combination of meds and therapy. Drugs should always be taken with caution, especially because some of them are very powerful, as antipsychotics are.

I hope no one misunderstands anything I’ve said, because I don’t think that mental illness is a myth, and I don’t think that drugs should not NOT be used, but to exercise some thought when taking any drug, legal or not. (As an aside, MDMA, or ecstasy, was originally created to cure PTSD, which it has been shown to do, and I think it’s funny that everyone acts like this wasn’t its purpose before it became illegal…).