https://youtu.be/iubyQfptlTg To be clear, I push through when I have no other choice and I've made giving up on my dreams no longer a choice. I've wasted a lot of my energy pushing through to please others. I've shown up because of guilt or simply not wanting to admit to myself how sick I really... Continue Reading →
Me & my little man on our only summer vacation before my flare-up hit. I'm having an Epstein-Barr flare-up and I cancelled a cub scouts camping trip my son, husband and I had scheduled for last weekend. I was absolutley devastated. I parked my tiny SUV, Frankie - my amazing all-wheel drive Nissan Juke purchased... Continue Reading →
https://youtu.be/7jDN1nUx1ZM We with chronic illness are badass warriors. I thought I was done. I thought I was free. I thought a new chapter had begun. I even made a (now) embarrassing YouTube video about how I "beat Epstein-Barr in 12 weeks." I'm an optimist with bipolar disorder, can you blame me? BUT I always want... Continue Reading →
Most people don't know the Phoenix lights her own funeral pyre. Because death and fire aren't negatives for her. Fire cleanses her so she can be reborn. She does this over and over again in her lifetime.
A day in the life. I blogged through most of my 4 years of postpartum depression. I call it postpartum depression, but really it was prenatal depression, childbirth trauma and postpartum mania, OCD and depression, but that's way too long to write every single time. Back to the blog. I locked it down years ago,... Continue Reading →
Such a great question. Here's my story about my discovery that I do, indeed, have alcoholism. Please share with anyone who will find this useful and stay rad! https://youtu.be/SmiBOK5RTvg
I had postpartum depression for four years and it nearly killed me. I was hospitalized twice and I missed my son's 3rd Christmas. It's now been four years since my bottom and the difference in my life is nothing short of a miracle. A miracle and a lot of work. Please share with anyone who... Continue Reading →
I know, I know. It's been a hot minute. I hope you're having a most excellent new year! Guess what I did? I started a vlog. I know I've attempted before, but this time feels different. It's called Stark Raving Sober and it's about being a badass with co-occurring disorders (mental illness and addiction). Total... Continue Reading →
I've been hit by another storm. It started with bronchitis and a sinus infection. Still coughing and barely off the antibiotics, I got the stomach flu. Not just the stomach flu, a 6-day stomach flu that turned into a 12-day stomach flu because of my lithium levels. Right about the time I could finally eat... Continue Reading →
I found my best friend in the direst of circumstances. In a layer of hell that Dante couldn’t even fathom. She was the light in the darkest of dark abysses an awkward freshman could ever imagine even existed. PE. . . . PE was the killer of all coolness. No matter how hard I worked... Continue Reading →
I wasn't going to go, but I didn't know how to take care of myself yet. Then there I was, November 27, 2014, in a beautiful house full of mostly strangers, taking care of my 3-year-old while my husband had fun with his co-workers. I was jumping out of my skin. Every minute was an... Continue Reading →
https://www.instagram.com/p/BbpL7BvgDx_/?taken-by=courtrundell I was really fucking angry yesterday and Thursday. I wanted to hurt people. I wanted to punch and kick and make people cry. For those of you who know me, I'm all about peace and love. So this feeling is fundamentally against everything I believe in. I acted on this feeling a little bit and... Continue Reading →
November 15, 1997 was my first day without a drink. I haven't had a drink since. There will be no celebrations. No cake. No friends singing. No applause. See, I've relapsed twice on drugs. At 9 months, I did a whip-it. It was a knee-jerk reaction to seeing my roommate's can of glorious Reddi Wip... Continue Reading →
I had crippling postpartum depression for four years and for two of those years I blogged about what I thought was my journey to wellness. I went off my meds for Bipolar Disorder, did Crossfit, ate nothing but meat and vegetables (Paleo Autoimmune Protocol because I decided my Hashimoto's Thyroiditis was the cause of my... Continue Reading →
I turned 44-years-old today and it hit me. I'm still here. I'm. Still. Here. After three hospitals, an outpatient program, the countless support groups, the alcoholism, the bone-crushing depression, the grandiose manias, the coma fatigue, the suicide plans, the suicide plans, THE SUICIDE PLANS, the deaths of so many I love, that fucking childhood, the... Continue Reading →
Most of what I really need to know about life, love and waterbeds, I learned on LSD. Books are neat and everything, but I’ve learned more tripping balls in outer galaxies to Bauhaus than I ever have cuddling up with a novel with some random orange cat. Seriously, whose cat is this? Triplog: Stardate, Tuesday,... Continue Reading →
It was so curious how she was always her weirdo self, yet was pretty popular in the Goth crowd. It reminded me of school – I had to study for hours to get an A on a test, while my friends would barely study and ace it. I mean, for fuck’s sake, I practiced my serious face for hours in the mirror only to be dragged around the club by Bill the Cat.
Hello amazing readers! I am going on Sabbatical because I've always wanted to say that and it sounds way more cool than I need to make some money. But don't despair, I'm going to actually get paid to write. It's just not about teenage sex and drugs. This blog is my soul. On a platter.... Continue Reading →
It was time to shop for a new, rad friend. A boss. One who would propel me to new social heights. And she had to be Goth; I made up my mind that my future was going to be black. Oh, and it was. Just wait. I met my best friend Sandy where the smokers... Continue Reading →
The only fear in love for me was and still is regret. I offered her my pound of flesh. It was hers for the taking. If she rejected me, then at least I wouldn’t regret not showing her all of me. Heartbreak is a painful enough event without bringing feelings of regret into the ring.
Brie recounted her conversation with Ethan approximately 453 times on the car ride home. So many times that I still remember every word. Here's how it went down: Brie walked right up to Ethan, cigarette between her moisturized and cuticle-free fingers. "Can I get a light?" "Sorry." Awkward moment. Ethan wiped his coked up nose... Continue Reading →
Brie hated smoking. She thought it was gross. Whenever she caught me smoking, she'd pluck it out of my lips and stomp it out. Thankfully I smoked generics. I tried and tried to convince her that smoking was trés chic. I pointed out smoking in the French films we watched together. Johnny Depp from “21 Jump... Continue Reading →
The only thing I thought of when Brie said "let's go clubbing" was how much I loved baby harp seals and how she found the one thing I wouldn't do to win her love. "Huh?" "The Premier. Everyone's going. It's tres chic." Yes, we overused the term. We were branding trailblazers. The Premier was a... Continue Reading →
I was single. Sex was awful and my last hope for a boyfriend almost ate my face off. There were no prospects on the horizon, until... Brie was in 8th grade at Sparks Middle, but we still spent every weekend together on her dad's 80-acre horse ranch. I originally took Brie under my wing to save her... Continue Reading →
After about a month of whining, I finally coerced Marie to go off-campus for lunch. As we rounded the corner of Great Western Bank, I spied a cute Filipino guy wearing crazy pants, a red bandana and Oakley’s sitting all alone on what most definitely was the largest boombox in the great state of Nevada.
During my epic summer between 7th and 8th grade, besides turning into a lobster, my mom dragged me along to help install her artwork in a gallery in Salt Lake City. Did I mention my mom was an artist (still is) and I was her slave labor? Yes, I learned to crawl under an A-Frame at the Polk... Continue Reading →
Sandy and I heard the sure fire way to be deemed losers in high school was to still be virgins. In hindsight, this reasoning had a few holes – no pun intended. I imagined a virginity checkpoint that all freshmen had to pass through before even being allowed to go to homeroom. We'd have to drop... Continue Reading →
The spring of my eighth grade year was the stuff of John Hughes movies. That is, if John Hughes movies took place in lame-ass towns with mostly unattractive people. I spent most weekends on Brie’s father's 80-acre ranch riding horses and falling in and out of love with her. I had to protect my Inner... Continue Reading →