I have definitely put this blog on the back burner for some time now… maybe since? Is it bad to say all fucking year? I’m still kicking and overall as a whole I am doing quite well. In my last post, I shared my excitement for my upcoming wedding. Now I can happily report that Kyle and I did indeed get married. I had no real expectations of that day but even with things going well, there was a lot of tension and stress although silent and in the background. I was supposed to work this evening, well, I guess it is morning now. I was feeling sick my last two shifts but I didn’t realize my boss got me covered for tonight as well so now I am back to house sitting which sucks because I am two towns away from Kyle after getting married 2.5 weeks ago.

This is going to sound weird trust me it’s kind of weird for all of us, but I am house sitting for my ex, Diego. His house didn’t really need the sitting, just his doggo did. When Diego and I were together, we got Poncho as a puppy and we had this terrible thing happen to him called “puppy strangles” and he almost died which for lack of a better term, trauma bonded Diego and I to this dog. It was difficult because during this time in puppy-hood , he should have been introduced to other dogs to learn doggy etiquette lol I am unsure of what to call it. Anyways, Poncho is great with most humans but isn’t great for other dogs because now he is 4 on Thanksgiving and still can’t really be around other dogs at the park or when you go on vacation; he couldn’t be boarded and since I have rapport with Poncho and Diego, obviously it made sense for me to house sit while he went out of town.

So I am at Diego’s while my husband is at home. I moved in with Kyle after our mini honeymoon (mini moon). It is currently 2:43am and my husband will wake up to go to work in about ten minutes for his 4am shift. I should be at work, well tonight I went to work and my coworkers said they got me covered and I should rest up for work the next night so I have been eating snacks at the kitchen table with Poncho salivating on my leg trying to eat my Doritos. I wrote in my planner, I got my habit tracker back on track, I filled out my voter ballot and signed and sealed it so I gotta find a dropbox for it. I did my weekly medication refills for my pill box. I cleaned out my purse. I have been fairly productive this evening despite being off work.

There is so much to say in so little time. I am still sober as of this moment, I am 14 months sober as of the 17th. House sitting at Diego’s is difficult because he has so much booze and pot paraphernalia that looks appealing. I think it is that he is in Las Vegas and my FOMO be kicking in. Fear of missing out is real because it’s Saturday night/Sunday morning and I want to be my peers who can drink and use normally. I want to have a shot of tequila or two and that be it.

They always said I was special and I never knew why until I realized I was an addict. I have the talent of fucking up my life drastically when I drink alcohol. I get DUI’s, jail time, court dates, fines and fees off the ying yang, I lost cars, my family. Everything. If I was going to use again as an act of defiance I’m gonna go big and it ain’t gonna be no one shot of bourbon; we go til we aren’t breathing. Sure, that one margarita with friends on Instagram sounds great, but now I have too much to lose and I’m finally starting to love myself again so can’t ruin that shit either.

In lighter news, I got married to Kyle on October 11th, 2024 at our local courthouse with my parents, my sister and her husband, his grandparents, his uncle and cousin, and his best childhood friend. Blue skies peaked out of gray clouds and was just perfect for fall outside pictures. It was just how we wanted it to be. I know family members of mine felt maybe betrayed about not being invited or even knowing that a wedding was taking place, but the day was designed to be as low stress as possible for both Kyle and myself. My husband has epilepsy so lowering or eliminating stress is key to keep his illness under control.

I plan on changing my last name to Kyle’s last name. I know that all of my social media tags this blog so if you found my social media, you’d know my last name either before or after we got married but I need to be aloof in some ways which is why I don’t include last names on the blog.

A lot of you may wonder how my mental health is doing considering this is a mental health blog after all. I would say it is between good and fair. I was given the diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder earlier this year and what came with that was an identity crisis. I preached bipolar disorder advocacy and here I am, a fraud. NO. Just not someone with bipolar disorder anymore. That was my identity for eight years and a diagnosis that started the very idea for this blog. I think since I’ve been diagnosed with schizoaffective, I value my privacy a lot more. I get paranoid when I start sharing things on here that it “outs” me to loved ones who read my blog. Before I was blunt and honest which has hurt others and myself more than the post was worth. The other reason for not posting as much is this year feels like a blur; I blinked and now it is the end of October.

I was thinking about this in the car. I started the year out with nose surgery to fix a deviated septum and determine if I was a good candidate for sleep apnea surgery called Inspire which is an implant to help people breathe while sleeping. I quit a job I loved, or thought that I loved. Was unemployed for a while, started school and the job I have now. Stopped school abruptly, got diagnosed with schizoaffective. Then got engaged and worked a lot. We planned the wedding or elopement or whatever at the beginning of September with a little over a month to prepare. Kyle got his truck and I got in an accident (sober accident) and totaled my car so we got a Jeep together in August. And it ain’t over yet!

According to my dashboard, I have only posted 40 times in over 300 days. Yikes. I used to be an every day writer, punching the keys, and getting the tea out there to anyone who would read about my drama or life or what have you. Privacy is one reason I kind of stopped posting. I also felt like what I have to say in my little pea brain won’t have a positive affect onto others through my writing. Also, my creativity with my schizoaffective medication has hit a brick wall doing 90MPH. The zest I had for writing and mental health advocacy hit a wall because I didn’t understand who I was and had no creativity to find out who I was within this new identity.

And then I now find myself two and a half weeks into my marriage and I’m having yet another identity crisis of who I am as a wife, a married gal. Man, I never thought I would say that about myself. I ached to be loved the way I am loved by my husband. Marriage doesn’t heal the wounds in my heart and my soul (only Christ can do that), but the covenant I made in my vows to Kyle has created a sense of contentment and feeling fulfilled.

As I am navigating this new chapter in my life, I am going to try to be more consistent in my writing no matter how bad or boring my posts are because writing soothes my soul. Writing things down and punching the damn keys (I still have super long wedding nails so it makes it nearly impossible to type without the unaesthetic clacking noise BLAAGH) helps me immensely figure my crap out.

I can tell my 5am brain is kicking in because there’s this writing contest in the month of November called Nanowrimo which stands for national November writing month where you attempt or succeed at writing over 100,000 words in those thirty days. So now that all the “chaos” is over, my brain says to do that to rededicate my life to writing. As fun as that sounds, I’ll gladly take a rain check.

I think my mental writing brain has checked out for the night.

Much love,

Dani