I may have had a breakthrough in what's wrong with me. A guy in one of my groups on Facebook chimed in about my post explaining my health struggles lately. He said that he was diagnosed with something called Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS). It would explain literally all of my seemingly unrelated symptoms. It would explain why my heart has been so stupid since I was a teenager. And it's often misdiagnosed as anxiety and depression. So it fits the bill pretty well. I'm going to be off my parent's insurance in a month and once I'm on J's, I'll look for a GP that I like better. The lady I went to seemed so annoyed that I was coming in for treatment, so she can fuck off.
POTS is also known for getting worse around your menstrual cycle. I wonder if that heavy feeling in my chest and legs is just a POTS flare up? Hopefully I'll be able to see someone to either confirm/refute my idea of having this condition.
I've done a lot of reading up about it and a lot of people say that using mobility aids helps conserve their energy a lot. I don't know if J would be okay with it, but if I get the diagnosis, I'm going to invest in one or two aids. I'd probably start with a cane and then possibly invest in a rollator for doing work around the house. I wonder if it would help me not feel so shitty all the time.
Since having this realization my mood has surprisingly been a lot better. I don't feel a surge of joy which I'm assuming is because my period is on its way any day but I think this diagnosis fits so so well.
My OCD has been running rampant lately. I keep looking at houses online that are for sale in my nearby area over and over even though we aren't planning on moving for 4-5 more years. OCD can be a real bitch sometimes.
I posted on Reddit today about my mom. I've been focusing so much about what's shes been doing in the present which annoy me (but don't directly effect me) that I haven't been addressing the things she did when I was a kid that effected me so negatively.
My mom yelled for practically my whole childhood. And if you yelled back you were punished. Yes, I mean punished, not dealt appropriate consequences. I can't handle the noise of people yelling. It stresses me out so fucking much. I remember being so upset at her multiple times that she wasn't willing to hear me out or compromise that I would scream my lungs out over and over and over again until it hurt to even whisper. I would make my own throat raw and tender because of my anger of not being heard.
I remember being thirteen or fourteen and my mom was in her bedroom on her computer. She never shut that thing when I was talking to her. She didn't seem to want to spend time with me. I explained this and the first thing she does is snap at me. She said "I'm not always on my computer, I'm entitled to some alone time!" What she didn't ever explain to me until I was about to leave home was how she had hypothyroidism which zapped all her energy by about 2 PM. I felt sad inside for all those times I asked her to go out and do things with me, but after that I felt so angry that she didn't feel like I deserved to know. If she'd just told me what was going on with her maybe I would have been able to be more considerate and expect less of her.
Another thing she did was lie about why we moved so much. I counted fifteen different homes in between my birth and leaving home. When I was 8 or so I asked her why we move so much and she told me it was because she prayed about it and God told her to move. Well about five years ago I sat down and asked her frankly if that really was the reason. She said no, she just got bored with the house and it's layout so she wanted something new. Fuck that excuse. I was robbed of having any long term friends because of moving so much. I never developed close relationships with anybody in my neighborhood because I wasn't allowed to put roots down anywhere. I attribute her behavior as a huge trigger in my house-hunting OCD behavior.
Another thing was that she favored my sister all growing up. Whatever M wanted she got. My parents bought her a new dress for every school dance, guess how many I got to pick out? ZERO. My sister got a 9k budget for her wedding. My budget? 1.5k. And then in the weeks leading up to the wedding, my parents did a shit ton of updating around the house. That's when I realized that I wasn't a priority. Something my parents told me was that they would only pay for one wedding. If I got a divorce I'd have to foot the bill for my second set of nuptials. My sister got a divorce and found a better man to be with. Guess what happened? They paid for a top of the line venue, the meal was catered, and she got to design a custom dress. My wedding gown was on sale at the bridal shop. My mom convinced me to not to a veil or headpiece, to do my hair myself, and my makeup too. My sister got all of these things in addition to real hair extensions, a limo rental, and my parents footed the bill for their honeymoon. I'm convinced that my mom only didn't want me to get those things because they wanted to put in new can lights and granite counter tops. Fuck that. Also, my sister wrecked two cars and they were replaced with one of the same value. One that was a few years old with maybe a hundred miles on it. What did I get? I turned sixteen in 2009 and I got a shitty Honda Accord that had paint chipping, the seats were all stained from my brothers using it, and then my oldest brother took the radio and subwoofers out of it (that my dad paid for, BTW) and my parents did nothing about it.
I never had things that were just mine. I would go to school and come home and find out my bed had been swapped with my brother. One time I remember that I left my bedroom messy and came back to a spotless room, with a catch. She'd gone through my things and threw out at least half of it. Without consulting me about it first she would announce that we were switching bedrooms. I switched a bedroom with my sister and not long after my dad took her out to pick out what color paint she wanted for her new bedroom.
My brothers scared me on purpose every chance they got and I can only remember a handful of times where my parents defended me. Most of the time they'd just say that I needed to lighten up and learn to take a joke. Now as an adult it doesn't surprise me that I have intense generalized anxiety.
Another fucked up thing that happened is that my dad got a memory foam king sized mattress from a mattress store when they were going to throw it out. He came home, cut it in half, and put one half in the guest room and gave my sister the other half. I was promised that once my sister left home I would get the coveted mattress. I was sleeping on a decades old twin mattress so I looked forward to getting a decent mattress. Well my sister moved out just before my brother got married and I was pumped. I stripped my bed and moved the frame to a different spot in my bedroom. I went downstairs to grab the mattress my sister left behind only to see my parents storing it in the garage with the other half. I asked what was going on and they said they were giving both halves to my brother and his bride. I reminded them of their promise to give it to me and they merely shrugged and said sorry, too bad. They gave me a 'new' mattress but this one was thin and it had spaceships all over it. It didn't dig into me like the old one did but it was uncomfortable nonetheless because of how little spring back it had. It was like sleeping on a sad rectangle of concrete.
One of the most fucked up things my parents did was they would buy us kids a pet and then get rid of it a short while later without asking us or explaining why. I counted twenty one pets they did this to. The most notable was when I turned 9. I had been begging my parents for my own dog for months and months and on the morning of my birthday they gifted me a white poodle. I was thrilled and I became attached to him within minutes. Four weeks go by and Radar is nowhere to be seen when I got home. I asked my mom where he was, wondering if he'd run away. She sat me down on the sofa and told me that she'd taken him to the animal shelter to be put down. Apparently this dog was fifteen years old with three paws in the grave when we took him home. My parents gave me a dog and then killed it a month later.
I know I didn't ever have to wonder if we would have food or clothes or shelter. But I'm still extremely bitter about it.
POTS is also known for getting worse around your menstrual cycle. I wonder if that heavy feeling in my chest and legs is just a POTS flare up? Hopefully I'll be able to see someone to either confirm/refute my idea of having this condition.
I've done a lot of reading up about it and a lot of people say that using mobility aids helps conserve their energy a lot. I don't know if J would be okay with it, but if I get the diagnosis, I'm going to invest in one or two aids. I'd probably start with a cane and then possibly invest in a rollator for doing work around the house. I wonder if it would help me not feel so shitty all the time.
Since having this realization my mood has surprisingly been a lot better. I don't feel a surge of joy which I'm assuming is because my period is on its way any day but I think this diagnosis fits so so well.
My OCD has been running rampant lately. I keep looking at houses online that are for sale in my nearby area over and over even though we aren't planning on moving for 4-5 more years. OCD can be a real bitch sometimes.
I posted on Reddit today about my mom. I've been focusing so much about what's shes been doing in the present which annoy me (but don't directly effect me) that I haven't been addressing the things she did when I was a kid that effected me so negatively.
My mom yelled for practically my whole childhood. And if you yelled back you were punished. Yes, I mean punished, not dealt appropriate consequences. I can't handle the noise of people yelling. It stresses me out so fucking much. I remember being so upset at her multiple times that she wasn't willing to hear me out or compromise that I would scream my lungs out over and over and over again until it hurt to even whisper. I would make my own throat raw and tender because of my anger of not being heard.
I remember being thirteen or fourteen and my mom was in her bedroom on her computer. She never shut that thing when I was talking to her. She didn't seem to want to spend time with me. I explained this and the first thing she does is snap at me. She said "I'm not always on my computer, I'm entitled to some alone time!" What she didn't ever explain to me until I was about to leave home was how she had hypothyroidism which zapped all her energy by about 2 PM. I felt sad inside for all those times I asked her to go out and do things with me, but after that I felt so angry that she didn't feel like I deserved to know. If she'd just told me what was going on with her maybe I would have been able to be more considerate and expect less of her.
Another thing she did was lie about why we moved so much. I counted fifteen different homes in between my birth and leaving home. When I was 8 or so I asked her why we move so much and she told me it was because she prayed about it and God told her to move. Well about five years ago I sat down and asked her frankly if that really was the reason. She said no, she just got bored with the house and it's layout so she wanted something new. Fuck that excuse. I was robbed of having any long term friends because of moving so much. I never developed close relationships with anybody in my neighborhood because I wasn't allowed to put roots down anywhere. I attribute her behavior as a huge trigger in my house-hunting OCD behavior.
Another thing was that she favored my sister all growing up. Whatever M wanted she got. My parents bought her a new dress for every school dance, guess how many I got to pick out? ZERO. My sister got a 9k budget for her wedding. My budget? 1.5k. And then in the weeks leading up to the wedding, my parents did a shit ton of updating around the house. That's when I realized that I wasn't a priority. Something my parents told me was that they would only pay for one wedding. If I got a divorce I'd have to foot the bill for my second set of nuptials. My sister got a divorce and found a better man to be with. Guess what happened? They paid for a top of the line venue, the meal was catered, and she got to design a custom dress. My wedding gown was on sale at the bridal shop. My mom convinced me to not to a veil or headpiece, to do my hair myself, and my makeup too. My sister got all of these things in addition to real hair extensions, a limo rental, and my parents footed the bill for their honeymoon. I'm convinced that my mom only didn't want me to get those things because they wanted to put in new can lights and granite counter tops. Fuck that. Also, my sister wrecked two cars and they were replaced with one of the same value. One that was a few years old with maybe a hundred miles on it. What did I get? I turned sixteen in 2009 and I got a shitty Honda Accord that had paint chipping, the seats were all stained from my brothers using it, and then my oldest brother took the radio and subwoofers out of it (that my dad paid for, BTW) and my parents did nothing about it.
I never had things that were just mine. I would go to school and come home and find out my bed had been swapped with my brother. One time I remember that I left my bedroom messy and came back to a spotless room, with a catch. She'd gone through my things and threw out at least half of it. Without consulting me about it first she would announce that we were switching bedrooms. I switched a bedroom with my sister and not long after my dad took her out to pick out what color paint she wanted for her new bedroom.
My brothers scared me on purpose every chance they got and I can only remember a handful of times where my parents defended me. Most of the time they'd just say that I needed to lighten up and learn to take a joke. Now as an adult it doesn't surprise me that I have intense generalized anxiety.
Another fucked up thing that happened is that my dad got a memory foam king sized mattress from a mattress store when they were going to throw it out. He came home, cut it in half, and put one half in the guest room and gave my sister the other half. I was promised that once my sister left home I would get the coveted mattress. I was sleeping on a decades old twin mattress so I looked forward to getting a decent mattress. Well my sister moved out just before my brother got married and I was pumped. I stripped my bed and moved the frame to a different spot in my bedroom. I went downstairs to grab the mattress my sister left behind only to see my parents storing it in the garage with the other half. I asked what was going on and they said they were giving both halves to my brother and his bride. I reminded them of their promise to give it to me and they merely shrugged and said sorry, too bad. They gave me a 'new' mattress but this one was thin and it had spaceships all over it. It didn't dig into me like the old one did but it was uncomfortable nonetheless because of how little spring back it had. It was like sleeping on a sad rectangle of concrete.
One of the most fucked up things my parents did was they would buy us kids a pet and then get rid of it a short while later without asking us or explaining why. I counted twenty one pets they did this to. The most notable was when I turned 9. I had been begging my parents for my own dog for months and months and on the morning of my birthday they gifted me a white poodle. I was thrilled and I became attached to him within minutes. Four weeks go by and Radar is nowhere to be seen when I got home. I asked my mom where he was, wondering if he'd run away. She sat me down on the sofa and told me that she'd taken him to the animal shelter to be put down. Apparently this dog was fifteen years old with three paws in the grave when we took him home. My parents gave me a dog and then killed it a month later.
I know I didn't ever have to wonder if we would have food or clothes or shelter. But I'm still extremely bitter about it.
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