I Win.

Guys. I did it. I won. I finally - FINALLY - beat my depression.

At least, for the moment.

Time to share a secret! I've been off my meds for a couple months now. Prozac helped me a ton. It helped me realize what my base line for happiness *should* be, so then I just needed to figure out how to get there.

I've been doing a really good job managing my anxiety lately, but I do take Xanax when it gets to be too much. It's usually only once or twice a month, max, that I have to rely on that. Considering that two short years ago I was having anxiety attacks almost every day, I count that in the win column.

But it's always the depression that comes back, and it comes back with a vengeance. I go off my meds because I feel fine, and then I spiral until I hit the bottom of a pit and curl into a ball of weeping shame at the bottom.

Not. This. Time.

See, that could have easily happened today. It almost did. It would have, but I decided not to let it.

I've been having some roadblocks getting my financial aid sorted for school. When it finally showed that my 2015 tax transcripts had been received, I breathed a sigh of relief. And then yesterday I went into the financial aid office just to double check. They said everything was fine and they would email me in about two weeks to let me know what I'm being awarded as far as aid. Hooray! So when I checked for that email today and it showed that my 2015 tax transcripts were still needed, I wasn't sure if I wanted to scream or cry.

I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but Normal Hailey is a total psycho when it comes to stuff. I'm a total control freak and I want to have everything planned out to the last possible detail so that I can anticipate everything that's happening. Normal Hailey is the one who decided to take on a 15 credit hour course load first semester, in addition to working full time, being a single mom, running this blog, writing a book, singing a ton, having a social life and having a boyfriend. Had Normal Hailey been around while I was in middle and high school, I would have been a straight A student with a perfect attendance record. I would have graduated valedictorian of my class and gotten a full ride to the Ivy League of my choice. I would have held down a part time job, been involved in extracurricular activities, and probably been in student government.

But Normal Hailey road back seat to my depression for the past 16 years.

Today, after seeing that I needed to turn in more paperwork, I broke down. I started crying at my desk, which is super embarrassing when you're the receptionist and anyone can walk in. I vented to a co-worker. I texted my mom and told her I was going to withdrawn from school because there's no way I can come up with $2065 by August 23rd.

Then the thoughts started. "You were such an idiot to think you could actually do this. You're so pathetic. You know you should have just given bub up for adoption when he was born, so he could have a family that actually knows how to do literally anything. You're nothing. You're never going to be anything. You're so pathetic."

And on and on and on.

And that was when I stopped. I shook my head, shook myself out of it, and decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and actually fucking do something about it. I looked up the number on the SLCC website for the financial aid office, and even though it said that they wouldn't talk to me about anything specific over the phone, I decided not to let that deter me.

I went to my car, and I called. Right off the bat, I apologized to the girl who answered the phone. I explained that I was very frustrated with the situation and was going to try my best not to let my emotions get the best of me. I explained everything to her, how many times I've gone in and been told there wasn't a counselor to see and that there wasn't anything they could do if I didn't have the paperwork. And then I asked what I needed to do and... guys, I was stunned.

"Oh, it looks like we just need a signature on page 2 of your tax transcript. That's all we're missing. You can come in and sign it or bring in your signed copy, or email or fax it to us. Whatever works best. After that, everything will really be in and we'll be able to get your paperwork processed and your aid awarded."

Guys, it was literally that fucking easy. 

I took the paper in after work. That's it. That's all it was.

If I had listened to my depression, I would have withdrawn from my classes and felt like shit. Instead, I won.

I fucking won.

DIY Face Mask

I'm always a little skeptical of things on the internet saying to put household items on your face. However, I've been breaking out a ton so I decided to try one of the things that I'd read online, since none of my normal stuff seems to be working.

I loved it so much, guys. It's my go-to, from now on and it was so simple.

Take honey, sugar, a little bit of cinnamon and mix them together. You can add a little bit of water to thin it out, but be stingy. It can get super thin super fast. That's what ended up happening to me and I had to add more sugar and honey and ended up making a ton on accident.

Just apply a layer to your face, leave it on for about ten minutes, scrub it in and then rinse it off with lukewarm water.

My skin feels amazing now.

Since I made too much, I just grabbed my soap molds and poured the rest in there and stuck it in the freezer so I'll be good to go next time.

Let me know your go-to DIY in the comments!

Qualifiers.

I've been lucky. I've never really had to deal with mom-shaming. I've heard of The Mommy Wars, sure, but I've generally found that everyone is just trying to get through the insanity that is motherhood. I have friends whose parenting styles differ from mine, of course, but I've always just figured that different things work for different people and that was the end of it.

Until I joined a Single Mom Support Group on Facebook.

A couple weeks ago, my baby daddy had to cancel his visitation. Normally this isn't a huge deal, but my son has been having some behavioral issues stemming directly from the fact that he doesn't see his dad much.

My son is picking fights at preschool. He's throwing fits constantly. Bedtime is a nightmare. He usually screams for his dad for at least a half an hour.

So I was frustrated. While I love all my mom friends, none of them are single parents. My cousin is a single mom, but her son's father is very involved, so she doesn't have to deal with this particular issue.

I vented, saying I was upset for my son and upset for me, since I only get 12 hours a month for myself.

Of course, I love my son and love spending time with him. But as a full time single mom, there are times when I'm desperate for a break.

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. I was immediately met with criticism, saying that I should be lucky I even get 12 hours a month. Comments going on and on about how easy I have it because I have a baby daddy who is involved.

Comments saying I'm not really a single mom.

Now, I've been alone through all of this. Through the newborn sleepless nights, I didn't have a co-parent to lean on when all I wanted to do was cry. Through teething, through his asthma diagnoses and his horrible allergies. Through taking him to the ER because I thought he was dying when he had croup. Through my sweet little baby being prescribed an EpiPen and having to deal with the thought that I might have to use it one day. To breaking him of his pacifier, potty training, breaking from co-sleeping.

It has always been me. Alone.

Yes, his dad takes him for a few hours every other week (when he can), but that doesn't mean I'm not alone.

There was no one there to stare at him, wide awake, at 4 in the morning when he was a newborn. No one to marvel at the beautiful thing we made together.

There is no one there on the nights that he screams for his dad and lashes out at me with tiny hands and feet, punches and kicks that land like tiny daggers because the beautiful thing you made wants nothing to do with you.

There shouldn't be qualifiers to what does or does not make you a "real" single mom. And another person's struggles do not cancel mine out.

I'm allowed to be frustrated and upset. I am a single mom, and I'm doing the best that I can. Don't you dare tell me I'm not.

Clearing The Fog

I'm trying to be back, everyone.

I'm gonna try really hard.

I can't make any promises though.


Today, I signed up for my college classes. I spoke with my advisor and she said I need 62 credit hours to complete my AS in Social Work. That includes my generals and course-specific classes before I transfer to a 4 year university to complete my BS (which I'm trying not to laugh at). After that, it's on to grad school for my Master's degree.

Holy shit, guys.

I'm taking 16 credit hours this semester. So many people have told me to lighten my load, start out easy since I've been out of school for 6 years and I've never been in college. Also because I'm working full time and crushing it* at this single mom thing.

(*I am not crushing it. I'm drowning, just like every other mom in the world)

I know myself, though. I know I'm a procrastinator and that I work better under pressure. I *have* to take on a full course load or I won't do it.

I have a lot of balls in the air right now. In addition to going to college, working full time, being a single mom to the best little boy in the world (I'm biased), and trying to stay on top of my house, I'm also doing a bunch of other shit simply because I want to.

I'm trying to get this blog going again. I'm going to start going to my writer's group again, so I can actually get a book written and maybe make some friends along the way. I just auditioned for the Voice (on Snapchat) and will hear about that at the end of September. I also (finally) have a healthy social life.

I have friends, guys.

Some of you may remember that my best friends all ditched me almost two years ago when I opened up about how bad my depression had gotten. I don't have to worry about that any more.

I have a Village now. I'm friends with an amazing couple that I wouldn't have met if it wasn't for my son. Our boys are best friends, and I love their entire family to death.

I'm so much closer with my family, and that includes my "adopted" family, the people I love because I choose to, not because of blood. I actually just threw a pretty huge (30 people) bbq just so we could all be surrounded by people we love, and who love us back.

I'm so much closer with my "cousin", who comes over at least one night a week.

I have a boyfriend now, which is pretty cool. He's been my biggest cheerleader in regards to me going to college, even before we were together.

I have a lot going on, and it can get kind of overwhelming and be a lot to handle. I'm currently working up a color-coded Excel spreadsheet to help me work out how to best manage everything.

The only, ONLY, reason I'm able to do all of this is because I'm medicated. I'm saying this because of the stigma around being medicated for your mental health. Let me make one thing clear.

Admitting you need help does not mean you are weak. It means you are strong enough to realize that something is not right.

I take Prozac, every single day, for my anxiety and depression. Because of that, the fog that I've lived in since I was 8 years old is clearing. My depression and anxiety do not control my every move. As soon as that fog started to clear, I returned to being the little girl who was adamant that she would not stay home from school because she wanted to get her 'perfect attendance' pencil. Y'all, I don't even like pencils.

Being level has made me realize that I'm still that person who was so freaking proud when she got straight As, who was reading to the class in kindergarten and doing college-level math in the 4th grade. I'm still the girl who looked around at the world and realized that life is what I make it, and I want to make it something great.

So this is where I'm starting.