Diagnosis

First off, a couple of months ago, I made an appointment to be screened for depression. Well, I kinda already knew the outcome. I know I suffer from depression. Not so surprisingly, after the first appointment yesterday, the psychologist diagnosed me with Bipolar Disorder, Type II.  And I've agreed to weekly sessions with her to find coping mechanisms for the next three months. And she recommended I go see the psychiatrist to explore medications, but that appointment isn't for another 6 weeks. So there's that.

In other medical drama in the life of Mico, I finally received the results from the biopsies done on my leg back in May. The area isn't cancerous. That's good. But due to the unusual nature of the cells, my dermatologist decided it would best to remove my birthmark. So I have been referred to a plastic surgeon later in this month.  The spot is too large and too deep for my dermatologist to remove, plus I believe the surgeon will try to minimize the scarring on my fine ass leg.

More exciting news, I bought a car. It's a 02 Cavalier like my old one, and I'm quite happy with the old thing. It's black and it feels like coming home again. Except this time it's a manual, and I didn't know how to drive stick when I bought it. So, I've been forced to learn. It's been frustrating, but now that I am getting the hang of it, I kinda enjoy it. I haven't name my car yet. It's definitely not Darla.

Jobs News.  I was told a couple of weeks ago that work would be keeping my past the season to help out in the fall. They did say it would be reduced hours, to 4 days a week or 32 hours. Now, they're having budget problems. Meaning, now it's an "as needed" position, but I should "keep my weekends clear". That's really freaking annoying. I let my second job go so I could continue to work for the park. Now, I have to start all over in my job search, and it's really unfair to me and to a potential employer to expect me to keep my weekends clear just in case they need me at the park.

Kisses

I get annoyed that my husband only kisses me deeply and with an open mouth when it's time for sex.  And sometimes not even then. I like kisses for the sake of kisses.

I am a Liar.

I lie. I lie about unimportant things. I don't know why I do this. I even catch myself as I am doing it, and I ask myself why I just lied about that.  For example, I once told my sister-in-law that I wore one size larger in bras than I really do.  Why is that important that she think I have a bigger rack than I obviously posses? It's things that don't even matter. No one is going to judge me if I say I only had 2 pieces of the pizza instead of three. No one really cares that my car get 3 less mpg than what I tell them.  My family isn't going to think differently about my husband that he starts work this week rather than last.  I don't know why I do these simple small lies and it's difficult to keep up with the ones I do tell and to whom.  Maybe it's an underlying fear of not being good enough or wanting to present a better face than I have. What difference does it make that I have been married only  8 years versus the ten I tell people. Or how about I'm 27 and not 30.  I have two years left in college and not 1.5.  Seriously, wtf, brain?

Social Media

With it being so easy to be everywhere on the internet these days, I find myself sharing only parts of myself on certain platforms.  I am very aware of what I post and where. Let me give you a breakdown of my social platforms and how I approach them,

Let's start with the biggest and easiest: Facebook.  Everyone has one, so do I. I spend a lot of time constantly refreshing my news feed hoping to find something interesting.  I'm not a friend whore. I carefully select who I am friends with on Facebook, which is why I have a grand total of 80+ friends, 75 of which I could still care less about.  Facebook is my main face to the world and my friends and family. I never post anything negative there. I rarely post anything personal. I never comment on anything. I life people's family pictures, and pictures of their accomplishments because people need validation and I am happy to give it to them in the form of a like.  Unfortunately, my parents and my siblings are the one I interact with the most of Facebook.  My mother has a negative comment for everything. She doesn't realize that she never says anything nice. It's just her way. I have all her posts blocked from my feed; I figured if I want to have a relationship with my mother, her rantings on political issues, and everyone's general stupidity, would best be something that I don't want to see. Considering we have opposing political beliefs, this is easier than fighting.  My husband actually hates facebook, but he does have notifications turned on so he is notified every time I post anything. It's a little unnerving knowing he will read everything. It's like I am seeking his approval for my posts. There have been several instances where I have deleted posts, pictures, and comments because he did not approve of them.  I'd like to say I delete them out of respect for him and his opinions, which is only half true, but mostly I fear I resent him for it. I feel that I have to ask permission to post things, so mostly I don't bother unless it's something I believe he won't take issue with. Between those two, facebook is just a list of pretty pictures from my job at the park and the random tag from family members when they post funnies to my page.

Onto my next biggest social platform: Pinterest. It's my safety. I feel it's where I can hide safely behind my boards.  I post freely on Pinterest. I am safe from anyone I actually know, with the exception of one of my sisters.  If my media accounts were reflective of who I am, I would say Pinterest is the most accurate reflection of what I think, do, and like. I share my humor in my funnies. I share my love of television and it's characters without feeling stupid. I share deep emotional thoughts through quotes. I share my love of exercise and physical activities.  I don't have to use words. I don't have to talk to anyone. The pictures do all the work for me.

Another: Twitter.  Twitter's nice. I used to rant and rave and go on about how stupid things are there. I use it to share little day-to-day updates that I refuse or am not allowed to share on Facebook. Like that I am happy when my husband gets a call for a job interview, or I feel particularly strong about an episode of one of my shows, or how I feel about a particular part of a book. I all surface level bullshit to be honest. I mainly use it to stalk celebrities.

And then I have an Instagram. I have one, I only use it rarely, but mostly it's so I can share pictures from my job across all of my platforms at once. I also use it to post random, non-facebook worthy pictures, such as the inside of a ferries wheel or an interesting cloud formation. I'm not very active there.

I view my social media accounts as possibly the beginnings of multiple personality disorder. Each one has it's purpose and it's own face of who I am.  Honestly though, they are only parts of me and only parts of me that I am willing to share. I still keep a lot of who I am off social media.  I don't want to go to a job interview one day, and the interviewer looked up my facebook or twitter and found that I was arguing with my mother or that I don't hold conventionally accepted religious beliefs.