PMDD and Me

Via Allie Brosh

I fell asleep listening to Neil DeGrasse Tyson teaching me about astrophysics (for people in a hurry). I had dreams that everyone hated me. And I woke up on the verge of tears. I’ve already begun to cry a handful of times in the last hour, and this would confuse me except that it happens like clockwork every month.

I’ve talked about this before but it bears repeating because it repeats on me. Most women get PMS but a smaller proportion suffer from PMDD (Pre-menstrual Dysphoric Disorder). It basically means that I go absolutely crazy once a month, with episodes lasting a day to a week, depending on cosmic forces being kind to me, I guess. The loathsome aspect is that it often occurs at the least useful times, and then screws everything up. This is my last week of classes so of course, the universe says to me: let’s go nuts!! Continue reading “PMDD and Me”



I am in pain a lot. My back hurts after very little provocation, since I broke it at T6 in November 2015. It has hurt in exactly the same spot since then: just to the right of T6, near the tip of my shoulder blade in my upper midback. It’s only the right side. Long days make the pain worse. Carrying my backpack for school isn’t ideal, but it is necessary. I don’t take pain meds any more except for Advil and I wear my Lidocaine patches when the pain is really bad. It radiates into the whole upper right quadrant of my back. And it affects everything.  Continue reading “Phantoms”

Strength in Oversharing


I am a master of oversharing. This blog is a testament to that fact. I struggle with finding a balance between the whole truth and appropriate conversation all the time. How much can I share with this person? How soon can I say certain things? What is appropriate at this level of intimacy? Omg, did I really just say that? Crap. Continue reading “Strength in Oversharing”

The hole inside me: Miscarriage and loss Pt. 1

 These are stories of miscarriage. They are visceral and very intense. Please be prepared for graphic language and potentially disturbing imagery.

By Anna H. at Sleepy Dolphin


The first time I figured out I was pregnant was a total surprise. It wasn’t planned, it was just one of those things. I had such bad morning sickness that I could barely go to work. Once we found out, we had a conversation but decided that we both wanted to go forward with the pregnancy. We even told our parents. We had just started living together, but we knew already that this was it. It was about eight weeks in when I went to an ob/gyn appointment and they discovered that the fetus hadn’t grown. My Dr. wasn’t the best at bedside manner, so she basically said, “We’ll see what happens but we’ll probably wait for the uterus to empty itself.” So, I had to go home, devastated, and just wait for the inevitable to happen.

Continue reading “The hole inside me: Miscarriage and loss Pt. 1”

Fever dreams


Borderline Personality Disorder comes with a fun list of potential symptoms. One of which is called dissociation.”According to The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fourth Edition, Text Revision (DSM-IV-TR) ninth criterion for borderline personality disorder is “transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms” (American Psychiatric Association, 2000, p. 654),” Colin Ross in the Journal of Trauma and Dissociation. If you want to read a full Wiki article about it, click here. So what does that all actually mean? Continue reading “Fever dreams”

Getting sick, you assholes


Part of the problem with coming out of a depression is that I have to go back into the world. There are lots of issues that crop up when this happens, especially since I haven’t been interacting with much of humanity for a while. This is compounded by going to school and being around loads of undergrads all the time. AND it’s the middle of winter. So basically this is the perfect storm and there is no way for me to avoid getting sick. I knew it was going to happen last week when my lecture hall started to fill up with sneezes and coughs, and the girl in front of me spent the entire time blowing her nose and coughing. I was doomed. There was no escape. My immune system is woefully unprepared to fend off incoming viruses because it hasn’t been building up a tolerance.

So here I am, sneezing, tired, with a headache. I knew it. The grand thing about getting sick when you have mental health issues is that, for me at least, it removes a protective layer of sanity. It’s like I become raw, like most people, and my emotions bubble to the surface. I am less mindful, less apt to be able to deal with my feelings in a productive way, and much more likely to give in to negative emotions. The first thing that goes is my willpower. I suddenly don’t want to do anything or see anyone. I just want to curl up in bed and watch nonsense (or TED talks more likely) and snuggle with the dogs. Instead, today I’m required to go to a TWO AND A HALF HOUR session on being smart about sexual safety, because apparently I’m 17 and need to be taught what Columbia thinks are the rules of life. Don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate the initiative that they are taking to educate young people, but for older, wiser students this is not only redundant it’s sort of infantalizing. And now I want to go even less because I don’t feel well. Time to see if I can get out of it.

Case in point, I just sent a snarky e-mail to my math TA because after our exam he sent out an e-mail that said, “Hey, hope you guys did well on the exam…but if you need more help here are all the resources the school has.” I get it. Find extra help, and sometimes that’s really necessary. But I also think that’s kind of a cop out and pretty insulting. As if to say, “Sorry we can’t teach you what we’re trying to teach you, so go have someone else do it or do it yourselves.” Paying what I am for this course, I kind of expect more effort from the teachers themselves. I realize he was attempting to be helpful in his own way, but he doesn’t come to our class, I’ve never seen him before this week, he doesn’t know any of us, he hasn’t watched our professor teach, he gave us conflicting and flat-out incorrect information, and then he has the audacity to say, “Go teach yourself so you can pass this class.” PSSSSSH. So, because I have no filter right now, I sent him back an e-mail that basically said, “Or the class could be more informative and the homework could be more closely related to the exams.” Snarky, maybe. True, definitely. There is so much that could be improved about this class if they only tried, just a little. But this goes to my point about being raw. I had the thought to send that response the other day, I just didn’t. But now, on poor sleep and a bad cold, I just don’t have the filter.

I feel bad about what I say and do when I have no filter, but it doesn’t happen until later. In the moment I give zero fucks. It doesn’t help that I fell asleep before I could take my meds last night so today is going to be weird. Thanks for the cold, you asshole kids.



I have become Rubenesque. That is to say, I have gained a lot of weight in the last few years. It wasn’t intentional, as it rarely is. It was a side effect of trying a lot of different medications, being inactive, and then being physically unable to be active for a long time. Now, a lot of the meds I’m on have the potential for weight gain and I haven’t been inspired to work out since the summer, kicked in the butt by depression and agoraphobia until recently, so I’m kind of stuck. Changing my diet and exercise regimen will make a difference but there’s the leftover effects of the meds. Brings new meaning to “fat and happy.” Continue reading “Rubenesque”



I am full of doubts and debates. My mind vacillates between confidence and extreme insecurity. Sometimes, mostly when I’m hypomanic, I am REALLY confident. And I mean, through the roof I can accomplish anything, let me buy all the materials to build this monstrous project, let me sign up for a million things that I can be an active part of, I am the most awesome person and I know best, kind of confident. Continue reading “Self-Esteem”

Surviving as a Student with MI


School has always stressed me out. I love it, I’m really good at it, but my mental health often gets in the way. I have a BA in English and History and I almost completed a Master’s in Medieval Studies, but I got so depressed that I couldn’t write my final thesis and so I withdrew from the program. In college I withdrew twice, once in my sophomore year and once in my senior year. In both instances I was so depressed and dysfunctional that I couldn’t get my work done. Continue reading “Surviving as a Student with MI”