Lingerie Slayer

MENTAL HEATH AWARENESS MONTH

And I’m here to talk about my own personal dealings with mental health because I think it’s important that I share my own personal experience because people should have spaces to talk openly about their mental health. Especially Black people.

I remember when I first started going to therapy in high school. I got the impression from family (at the time) that therapy wasn’t something I should talk about. A secret. This surely didn’t help my depression. It made me feel like there was something wrong with me.

I have had many a therapist. I’ve done group therapy. I enjoyed group therapy. Although I often times think about how I brought up being fetishized and the white faces in the room looked at me with confusion. One girl even spoke up to ask what being fetishized meant. I’ve been thinking about that a lot because in a therapy session, the last thing I really want to do is educate. I got stuff to get off my chest, and having to jump into teacher mode isn’t always something I want to do.

It was important for me to have a Black therapist. Although I found that just because a therapist is a Black woman, doesn’t mean that I won’t have to do some education in the session.

I currently have a Black therapist and a Black psychiatrist. Both of them Black women. The only thing I have to breakdown in these sessions is my emotions. There are days where I feel I don’t need therapy, but I feel lighter each time I go. If we’re talking technicalities I do need a therapist because that is something that psychiatrist requires of her clients. Someone else to be on the team of medication management.

Yes, I am on medication. Lexapro and Seroquel. The only thing I know about Seroquel is that it helps me sleep. Apparently this drug goes crazy in the streets.

Call me Maxo Dr. Phil, takin’ pills, off depressants

Perkies, Seroquels, we called ’em football heads when we’d sell em

I could see why though. The sleep I get is pure bliss.

I have trouble sleeping and when I *waves hands around* decide to pull an all nighter, that can slide me right into mania. I have to sleep. These thoughts have to turn off at some point. These two medications working in tandem work for me, but alone they couldn’t fight my PMDD.

Before I got on birth control (Spring 2024? Holy shit it’s been two full years now) I would spiral when my period came around. Suicidal Ideation. Heightened Anxiety. Laying in bed for hours with the covers pulled over my head. I had been working with my therapist and psychiatrist for a while at this point. I floated the idea of PMDD after doing some research on my own. Yes, we could have upped medication, we could have built up more tools in my arsenal to deal with it, but that wasn’t helping. I hated (hate) having my period. Physically I don’t like the way I feel. Emotionally I’m like, why is this happening to me? I’m not gonna have a baby anyway. And having to lose out on orgasms because of my period was just not it. (I know some folks have sex on their period, but I can’t even get into the vibe fr.) Thankfully my gyno had a solution. Birth control.

You can read my full PMDD story here.

I was so anxious about taking the birth control. I had never taken birth control a day in my life. But lo and fucking behold, Junel Fe turned out to be the last medication I needed in my arsenal. I don’t mark when my period “comes on”, but I probably should. When I feel slight cramping, I make a note in my planner when I remember. I don’t remember to do so (unless I feel the cramps) because one of the side effects I get is no bleeding. Because of that I live graciously. I might be a lil hyperbolic, but it does feel amazing.

So because I’m on medication and no longer suffer as much from PMDD, life is good right?

*buzzer noise* wrong answer, forehead.

I’m an anxious babe. Sometimes my motivation isn’t what I want it to be. I’m dealing with the way I feel about touch. When and where I am touched. As a neurospicy girl, my sensitivity to sensations such as touch can be uncomfortable. (I long to wear stockings, but the feel of them is quite distressing.) Grief has made my relationship with my emotions difficult. No. Capitalism has made my relationship with grief difficult. When I get in therapy, I cry. Sometimes I find myself surprised. Grief is difficult. Grief has me feeling anger, resentment, and regret. I know how to be angry and I do not mind being angry. I understand I can not hold this in. It will chew me from the inside as my anxiety is already doing. Journaling is how I get it out. Per what I’m about to tell you next, tells me I haven’t been doing enough of it.

Anxiety with an oral fixation, takes dog with a bone to a whole new level. Once it’s in there? Lock jaw. I grind my teeth at night. Something I wouldn’t have known had my dentist not mentioned it. My anxiety is felt in my body. I raise my shoulders like a cat. I’d probably hiss too if it were socially acceptable. When I notice that my shoulders are raised, I make myself present in lowering them. Moving my body is a need. I go to the gym, I do yoga, and I pole dance.

I have intrusive thoughts. My therapist has brought up OCD and I ignore her lowkey. I feel like if I ignore the compulsion, then it doesn’t have power over me. That hasn’t stopped me from driving back home just to wiggle the door knob. That hasn’t stopped me from worrying. I talk about these worries and intrusive thoughts. Whether it be with my therapist or friends, getting it out does help.

Journaling. Talk therapy. Medication. Talking with friends. Moving my body. It all helps. It helps me. I share my medications because it’s taboo to talk about them. I would also like to note that particular combination works for me, and something else could work for someone else.

I have felt bad for needing to take medication. But I tell you this, I’m a better person with than without it. I haven’t had any thoughts about harming myself. I haven’t had any thoughts about killing myself. I’m happy and I’m managing. Managing because I still live in this world with all of its isms and I’m trying my damn best.

Going outside also helps! Even if Im just running errands, I try to have a little giggle here and there. Romanticize my life some, add bit ah whimsy. I LOVE reading outside in the sun. Making myself a small meal and taking my blanket outside to get lost in some horror. I’m open to reading other genres, but babe the horror finds me.

Enjoy some photos of what May has been looking like so far.

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May is also masturbation month. I’m talking about that over on DigitalSexEd. The Instagram and the Threads. Still working out what will and won’t get me flagged operating those. I’ve had posts from here removed from Threads. Simple promo posts, that were a little too sexual for METAs taste.

AAAANNDD….

HAPPY MOTHERS’ DAY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE!

Thank you for reading! Thank you for being here!

Oh.

And RFK Jr, who has no training in health or medicine, can go fuck himself.

Thank you once again for reading and I’ll see yah next time.🩷