itscocovance

[itscocovance]

Yes.

[itscocovance]

When you just can’t love yourself, just work on giving yourself basic respect.

When you just can’t practice self care, aim for basic hygiene and keeping yourself alive.

When you just can’t have positive thoughts, focus on ignoring the negative ones.

When you just can’t quit those bad habits and unhealthy coping mechanisms, be sure to take care of yourself afterwards.

When you just can’t make yourself eat enough, aim for something three times a day, even if it’s something small.

When you just can’t stop binge eating, just do your best to forgive yourself and focus on something else instead of dwelling on it for any longer.

Not everyone is at a point where they can recover, and so thinking about recovery can be intimidating and make them shut down, because they just feel like they’re nowhere close to getting better so they might as well not bother. There needs to be more advice on dragging yourself through the days. Self care to the bare minimum. Aiming for “feeling okay with yourself” or “feeling less awful about yourself” rather than loving yourself. Baby steps.

[itscocovance]

[itscocovance]

Explanation

Coucou Cocopuffs  ♡

Let me get vulnerable for a second: 

Due to the combination of medications I’m on (and the ever-changing dosages thereof), my little corner of the internet may, at times, appear … Manic? Hyperactive? Uncoordinated and messy and chaotic?

Since a side-effect of one of the meds is an overactive, too-energetic brain, I find that I just need to vomit words onto a page to release some tension. Thus, I won’t always be as articulate and concise as I want to be. 

Sorry 🤓

- xx

** edit: I’ve been going back to edit my earlier posts in the hopes that they’ll read more coherently 🤞 They could definitely use a bit more of a spit-n-polish but, as it stands, I’m putting as much energy as I can afford into cleaning them up.  

#reblog #edit #blogging #Coco Vance Writes

[itscocovance]

Audrey Hepburn, Love In the Afternoon, 1957

[itscocovance]

[itscocovance]

The Chronicle

... Continues With Coco Vance:

Vol.IX

It has been ... A Week. Or more than a week, I’m not exactly sure how much time has lapsed between my last post and this one. My days bleed together. It’s so great 😑 An endless cycle of medication, sleep and pain. With some relief during the day for a handful of hours between doses. Whoop-whoop. 

Allow me to offer you an update as to what’s been happening: I came off Cortisone (as I’m sure you’ll remember), which was traumatic but - having researched the various probable side-effects of Cortisone withdrawal - not unexpected. The slowly intensifying headaches were worrisome, however. 

The pressure in my head increased until, finally, no amount of Tylenol was working. Initially, taking about 3-4 every 2-3 hours was helping ease the pain but, after a few days, nothing. No relief. 

It was as though every migraine I’ve ever suffered (since childhood) allied with every hangover-headache I’ve had in some escapade for Total Brain Domination. And they were (and still kind of are) winning. Complete annihilation of my head. Kaboom. 

Sure, I’m able to handle a headache or migraine. I’ve had to since I was a kid. I have a step-by-step guide whenever I feel one coming on. I’m a bloody expert. Except, when I can’t find a melon-baller to get The Thing causing the headaches out of my skull, well, that step-by-step guide becomes as good as fluffing warm milk to sleep (I DON’T CARE WHO SAYS THIS WORKS, IT’S FREAKING PLACEBO, THAT ISH IS A NASTY, GROSS LIE. Come at me bro). 

Whatever was happening in my head ... It felt as though my brain was being shoved against the right side of my skull with enough force to explode Chernobyl - uh - again. The piece of skull that was originally removed for my first surgery was making creaky sounds and sensations (there’s really no way for me to describe it. It reminds me of when my knees get tight and I stretch them and the muscle moves over the bone in that weird way and I feel all squirmy and uncomfortable? Not like cracking knuckles. I’ve experienced that in my skull too), the hearing in my right ear would randomly muffle, my right eyeball was making an intrepid effort to escape my head ... the list continues: Any visual stimuli hurt like hell, I couldn’t (and still can’t) go anywhere because being around anything that my brain wasn’t intimately familiar with overstimulated it to the point where I would basically be catatonic in under 30 minutes. 

[I’ve asked my mum for one of those airplane sleep-masks? Perhaps then, if I get myself a freakin’ guide dog, I’ll be able to leave my house without my brain wanting to combust after six steps ... ] 

After about a week of this, I couldn’t take anymore. 

Finally, I called Friendly Doc and managed to snag myself an appointment that very day. 

Which leads me to this bit of unwanted news: Remember how I declared I would never ever ever E V E R go back on Cortisone? 

...

...

...

I’m back on Cortisone. 

Apparently those headaches were a Very Bad Sign. If I was able to keep up with what he was saying through the fog of Total Brain Domination, I would remember why but - yeah. After sitting in the waiting room listening to an endless loop of Just For Laughs: Gags at a stupidly low volume that had my ears - and thus MY BRAIN - straining to hear (despite the fact that I despise that show) ... - ahem, sorry - I could barely speak by the time I was called in. I do remember him telling me, “Gotta get you back on them steroids. Pronto.”

I did break down, begged for another solution. So that happened. How many more times am I going to embarrass myself because Lil’ Voldy is a dicksnack? 

I’m very slowly being weaned off of Keppra though. Friendly Doc decided it wasn’t contributing anything given what’s actually going on inside my skull and the depression/anxiety that it brings to the table aren’t helping matters. I suppose that’s a good thing? 

My biggest issue now is that ... the Cortisone isn’t actually working. I’m still taking 6-8 (if not much more) Tylenol a day to relieve headaches-that-could-be-migraines. 

And then there’s my wisdom tooth ...

[I STAND BY BRAINTOOTH AND I DON’T CARE WHO BELIEVES ME. I KINDA-SORTA GOT CONFIRMATION FROM A DENTIST SO ... HAH, TAKE THAT NAYSAYERS!!]

So. ‘Kay. Hear me out here. Yes, there’s pain and pressure in the entire right side of my head. Beneath all that though, I feel ... a more focused pain/pressure. A toothache kind of pain/pressure. A wisdom tooth toothache kind of pain/pressure. 

This could all be nonsense since there is no reason, at my age, that my upper right wisdom tooth is suddenly inspired to KILL ME SLOWLY but my best guess is: Coming off of Cortisone didn’t agree with it. Granted, I need to confirm this with both a dentist and my neurosurgeon ... fine. Still, I’m considering dental surgery. At least then we’ll know for certain if the damn thing has anything to do with some of the pain/pressure I’m feeling. It’ll eliminate a factor and that’s always helpful, right? It’s not like I need it. It’s just there. Impacted and far too close to my sinuses ... which may or may not come with its own host of problems and potential risks. 

My body just doesn’t like to do things the easy way, does it? 

- xx

❀❀❀

RELATED ARTICLES:

Vol.I

Vol.II

Vol.III

Vol.IV

Vol.V

Vol.VI

Vol.VII

Vol.VIII

#The Chronicle #lil Voldy #brain health #brain surgery #neurologists #cortisone #steroids #medication #prescriptions #seizures #update #headaches #migraines #wisdom tooth

[itscocovance]

The Chronicle

Cutting Out Cortisone As Experienced By Coco Vance

Vol.VIII

Holy Hell

Dear GOD don’t do it, don’t try it, don’t ask for it, don’t fucking LOOK IT UP ON GOOGLE. DO NOT MESS WITH THAT PANDORA’S BOX; THAT ARK OF THE COVENANT A LA INDIANA JONES.  IT’S NOT WORTH IT 😭😭😭

I know, I know. I praised Cortisone for all the wonderful things it did: Shrinking Voldy and showing him who’s boss. And I ... stand ... by ... tha -- NO. I DON’T, I TRULY DON’T. CUT ME OPEN DOC, I’D PREFER IT. I DON’T EVER WANNA BE ON THAT ISH AGAIN AS LONG AS I LIVE, HOWEVER LONG THAT MAY BE!!!

“Why, Coco, what happened?” You ask, curiously.

LET ME ENLIGHTEN YOU.

Friday was my last day on Cortisone. At all. Yes, I had initially taken it upon myself to start weaning off it but I did, in the end, speak to Miracle Doc who suggested what dose to continue at, how to cut down further, for how long, and when to stop. So there was a game-plan.

Thankfully, my paranoid little brain decided to go ‘just one more day’ because the End Game would’ve landed on the day I went to see Friendly Doc (formerly referred to as Suspect Doc - the neurologist whose number I had but didn’t use).

Now. When I saw Friendly Doc, he seemed rather shocked by how quickly I was being weaned off and thought I go on an even lower dosage (essentially cutting the pills in half) until that Friday. Let’s all remember that I’d been on the drug for ... a month? Perhaps a little less? If you’re prescribed a steroid for longer than 3 days ... what I’m about to tell you might be your future 😬

See. Apparently the dosage, even at its highest, wasn’t considered a lot so no one - NO. ONE. - thought it necessary for me to wean off properly. Because it was a minuscule little nothing-dose that couldn’t harm a baby, wah. Guess what, assholes, LOOKS LIKE I’M A MUTHFUCKIN’ FETUS.

I am so very sensitive to certain meds. Pain meds, not so much. I think I might’ve built up a tolerance over the years due to how much Tylenol I’ve had to shove in my face to calm a migraine. Other meds? I tend to suffer all the ‘rare side-effects’ and then some. I don’t require much of the drug either because even the lowest dose will get the job done. Trust.

So you can all imagine how my first day completely Cortisone-free went ... And if you can’t, allow me to paint you a picture:

It was as if Food Poisoning and The Flu had a baby inside me and that baby erupted out of both ends. Fever, intense chills; I was dizzy and weak and almost fainted while trying to get to the bathroom, where I needed to go every five minutes. I couldn’t take anything for the migraine that got progressively worse throughout the day because whatever I tried to put in my body was rejected immediately. My back ... I - I can’t even. It hurt. It was more than an ‘ache’, it was real pain. Pain that had me crying out and in tears. 

This lasted from 7am to around 8pm when I was finally able to sip the tiniest amount of ginger-ale and water, take my Keppra and Valproic Acid and 2 measly Tylenol (I hate to say it but I need about 5 or 6 if I want results). My fever broke at 3am, by the grace of God.

And still, today, I feel like a small breeze could knock me the hell over. Just whoosh: BYE. I’m disoriented, exhausted, wobbly, my left side is doing questionable things, I’m perpetually nauseous, I have a simmering migraine at all times ...

You know what the funniest part of all this is? BOTH DOCTORS SAID - WHEN I ASKED THEM - THAT I WOULDN’T EXPERIENCE ANY OF THE SIDE-EFFECTS I’D MADE MYSELF NERVOUS ABOUT BY READING GOOGLE.

‘Kay yeah sure, thanks. 

- xx

❀❀❀

RELATED ARTICLES:

Vol.I

Vol.II

Vol.III

Vol.IV

Vol.V

Vol.VI

Vol.VII

#brain health #brain #The Chronicle #lil Voldy #neurologist #medications #meds #side-effects #withdrawl #because that's what this was

[itscocovance]

“

Walk me home in the dead of night

I can't be alone with all that's on my mind

”

#Pink #Walk Me Home #music #music video #mood

[itscocovance]

#mood

#The Head #MTV #poster #mood

[itscocovance]

Yogi Snail-

[itscocovance]

The Chronicle

A Sense Of Good Things To Come For Coco Vance

Vol.VII

Today. Is going to be a Good Day 🙌 I’m determined. I don’t care if this new neurologist delivers the worst news or gives me some half-baked, all-negative, forget-about-life-as-you-know-it theory about what Voldy’s doing in my head. I truly-madly-deeply do 👏 not 👏 care 👏

The sun is out. I slept (close to a regular, full night’s sleep). I woke up at a reasonable hour (6:30AM after waking at 3:30AM and going back to bed at 4:15AM but ignore that because NORMAL). Voldy isn’t threatening to drill his way out of my head. 

Yeah. Today is good. 

I’m not entirely back to my regular self. I still feel wobbly and disoriented and a little head-in-the-clouds. Screw it, I’ll take it. This is the best I’ve felt in weeks. 

Regretfully, I won’t be posting anything of substance until tomorrow (fingers crossed). I need to save what little energy I do have for my appointment and all of the questions I need answered. But I’m ... good? Content? Excited that I don’t feel like a trashnugget?  

All of the above. 

- xx 

❀❀❀

RELATED ARTICLES:

Vol.I

Vol.II

Vol.III

Vol.IV

Vol.V

Vol.VI

#brain health #lil Voldy #The Chronicle #brain #brain issues #medication #side-effects #neurologist #neurology #i'm a medical mystery #doctors #good day #happy #content #yaaassss

[itscocovance]

#mood

#mood #brain health #brain melt #happy #content #bliss #i feel semi-normal #finally

[itscocovance]

3am

My head is going to explode.

I can’t tell if it’s Voldy-related or a migraine (finicky sleep patterns) or a headache due to withdrawal from the steroid. It feels like a combo of all of the above. 

The weird thing is ... the Voldy-pressure is still in the place it was the first time. It’s like my brain is trying to break free where it knows there’s a weak spot. I do feel a bit of pressure in the back of my head (where Voldy apparently is now) but ... not like this. Not as painful as what it is at the top of my head. 

Lord, I can’t wait to see the neurologist tomorrow. 

I need answers 🤕

#lil Voldy #The Chronicle #headaches #withdrawal #pain #migraines #brain pressure #brain health #brain #neurology #neurologist #ouch

[itscocovance]

Body Image

(UK) Mental Health Awareness Week 2019

May 13th - 19th

Coucou Cocopuffs ♡ 

My favorite YouTuber, Melanie Murphy, posted something on Instagram that set my self-love and empowerment ablaze 😊 (she’s so fantastic. You’re welcome to disagree; I just can’t help but fall a little more in awe of her every day). For (UK) Mental Health Awareness Week, she shared a body-positive selfie, embracing her meatsack for what it is. And, lemme tell you, she gave me the boost I needed.

Personally, I’ve had a tumultuous relationship with my body and my appearance since my late teens (a tale that I’ll delve into another time), as I’m sure most of us have. Over the past two/three years, my confidence was shot to hell, rebuilt, questioned, reevaluated and then fiercely molded into something I’m proud of. 

Nowadays, I accept and appreciate my meatsack and all it does for me when it’s working. Not to suggest that I look at my reflection and get my Narcissus on every morning, fawning over myself because I’m so dang cute. Naw, I’m a human woman who was fed the beauty industry’s destructive narrative from a very young age; I still see flaws and have days when I hate the face that looks back at me but 👏 I’ve learned to accept that I am who I am, I’ve got what I’ve got, and I’m thankful 😃

Because ain’t nobody on this planet perfect. Some people are better at presenting themselves to the world; at concealing or tucking or Facetuning their ‘flaws’. But ain’t nobody perfect. 

And, honestly? I love myself enough to know that fluff anyone who is in my life based on my looks. I’m a clever, sassy, creative soul who has a lot to offer. Meatsack be damned! 

That being said, the stress of dealing with a Calcified Dark Lord in my skull was/is ... a lot (as you’ve read). But it was/is the physical side-effects that devastated my self-esteem the most. A few weeks ago, had someone asked me if ABC would ever cause my confidence to wane, I would’ve scoffed: 

My weight has fluctuated enough throughout the years that I truly couldn’t give a damn if I go from the size I am now up 8 sizes. My curves were beautiful. As long as I’m healthy and my body can get me from point A to Z and my doctor gives me the OK, I give few to no bothers.

I’ve always suffered with acne and had to learn how to get through that insecurity without makeup as a teen. Whatever. 

Body hair? We all have it. There’s hair removal cream and wax strips and razors and all sorts of tips ‘n’ tricks out there ...  

But ... the Cortisone This-Is-Sparta-kicked my body back to high school. I didn’t gain weight. I puffed up. I bloated. I’m retaining water. I look swollen. And I’m breaking out everywhere as if I’ve just hit puberty. I’ve had to shave/pluck/do a Satanic ritual every day when, normally, it takes a week or so before I need to do any body hair maintenance.

Add a sprinkle of volatility and, presto-change-o (Ladies and Gentlemen) we have ourselves (dun dun dun - !! -): An angst-ridden marshmallow. I am. An angst-ridden marshmallow.   

[Anyone who willingly, of their own volition, takes steroids ... y’all dumb. Like, I get that there’s this stigma around aging but - y’all dumb. This is not how to go about recapturing your youth ... your body reverts to its 13-year-old state. I want my adulthood back 😭]

Logical Me understands that this is temporary. I’ve already noticed a significant difference in how my body functions since I started weaning off the Cortisone. Things are going back to normal at a glacial pace. However, having to revisit all of those insecurities and the mountain of discomfort and self-destructive, negative thoughts toward my own appearance is -- well, the wounds have been reopened and have yet to scab over.

It’s been eye-opening. I wish that my confidence was in no way related to my appearance but it is, to a degree. The truth is, when I feel like I look good, I have a great day. When I feel gross and uncomfortable in my own skin, I have a less-than-stellar day. As you can imagine, my days have been less-than-stellar lately ...

As a practitioner of Self Care, I’m going to keep trudging forward against this current of self-doubt and mutilated self-esteem. I’m going to keep painting my nails because it makes me feel pretty, I’m going to enjoy my bubble baths, I’m going to pamper myself as best I can until I start to feel the love again. 

It’s important to remember that ... Legit, no one cares what you look like. And if they do, that says more about them than it does about you. We all have our insecurities, we all have things about ourselves that we wish we could change. That’s normal, especially in our society. That doesn’t mean we should rip ourselves apart. 

Take a moment today to remind yourself that you’re worth the effort. That you’re incredible. Appreciate yourself and fluff anyone who tries to bring you down because You. Are. Beautiful. 🌺

- xx

#mental health awareness week 2019 #mental health awareness #mental health #UK mental health awareness week #body image #theme #self-esteem #self-love #self-care #insecurities #medication #steroids

[itscocovance]

#mood

#mood #brain health #brain #headaches #someone get the drill #i'm going in #lil Voldy #The Chronicle

[itscocovance]

Effort

Vol.III

The Truth According to Coco Vance:

Coucou Cocopuffs  ♡

Effort, I’m learning - after extended periods of self-reflection and philosophizing ... because I have too much time on my hands and a hyperactive brain - is unique to the individual. 

I mean, I knew this. I’m a sensible person with a not-blunt head on her shoulders who can recognize that we aren’t all capable of the same things, we’re all built and developed differently. Duh. 

It is easy to forget, however.  

Clearly, the last few days haven’t been my finest. I’ve been - uh - contentious and intense and unable to step back and look at the world objectively - which is something I try to do before charging ahead and having “constructive discussions” with whoever’s behavior has offended me ... 

[Dear God, who am I?]

Yesterday, my sweet-kind-lionhearted boyfriend had A Day. Granted, he’d also had A Night (😑), which is entirely on him, so his A Day could’ve been slightly less A-Day-ish -- whatever, not the point! Despite his A Day, he called me up as soon as he was available and let me know that he was on his way toward me. At 6:30PM. (Context: The night before we’d made loose plans to have supper together.)

This, folks, should tell you what you need to know: I had an entire day, left to my own medicated and emotionally-fueled devices, of radio-silence to go straight-jacket-nuts on his ass. And he had no idea because I’d only sent him the sweetest and most encouraging of text messages. 

[I have no clue, not an inkling, as to how this man is still in my life. Like. Run, dude.]

Lately, his schedule has changed, become busier. It’s Spring/Summer: baseball season has started (he’s a Sports Guy), he has a course he’s involved in, friends and family are eager to do more in the nicer weather, etc. I give this a thumbs-up. I regard him as someone who requires the attention, the activity. When he’s idle, he very quickly gets depressed. 

Since I can’t be there the way I was before, I’m comfortable and happy knowing he’s doing things that get him excited and fill his time productively. 

‘Tis a good thing.

Now 👏 What does any of this have to do with effort? Ah-ha! Glad you asked. 

Because I was sat on my own, contemplating the universe and deciphering its secrets - *snort* - I found myself comparing the things (I think) I offer our relationship to what (I think) he does. I felt as though I was making more of an effort. 

Recently, on his end ... He can’t even pick up the phone to text me and let me know he’s alive until 5-freakin’-PM ... Something that bothers me when I don’t stop to remember that he still has A Life while I navigate all the fun physical side-effects of my meds, alone and in bed all day.

Looking at everything from a distance however, I came to the conclusion that - hey - he does a helluva lot more than I give him credit for, based on both what’s in his wheelhouse and the time he’s balancing.  

I mean. He comes to my parents’ house - where neither of us can fully relax - to spend time with me on the days he doesn’t have his course. If we’re napping, he’ll leave, however late, to make the 30min journey back to his place since he’s not allowed to stay the night (comfort zones ... it’s ... yes, I’m an adult-adolescent-mongrel. AKA: A Millennial). He runs my errands (or helps me run them, if I’m mobile), he tries to call me when he has the time and energy to talk (he’s not a morning person right now - he goes through phases), he cooks for me, and will drop his plans to join me for an appointment if no one else is available and I feel too vulnerable or anxious to go alone ... 

And I spent yesterday criticizing him. Wanting to bitch him out for never contributing to (what I felt is) our dwindling relationship. The fluff am I putting in right now, huh? Nada. Not that it’s my fault: Medical Things happen to the best of us and can be blindsiding. 

After analyzing my reaction to death, I wonder if it came from a place of insecurity? Or ... and here’s the avenue I think I’m going to explore further: In recent years, I’ve been making conscious efforts. I’ve been actively trying to do better by those in my life. Even when I don’t want to do The Thing (depending on what The Thing is and how much energy it requires - energy is a precious commodity in my life right now). 

In the past, I was garbage at communication. I was flaky, antisocial, I hated responding to messages or reaching out to friends or acquaintances. Some of this was due to anxiety and the behavioral effects of alcoholism but parts of it were also just me being a dick and not giving a bother. 

When I decided to turn things around and improve myself, I began with communication. It’s still a challenge; there are still times when I’d rather ghost everyone and hide under my blankets but I never let it last more than a day or two. 

For me, reaching out and being communicative is Making An Effort. For someone else who never had this issue, it could be so natural, it just is. Obvious, simple, straightforward, basic. A task so minuscule, it doesn’t land on the Efforts-Made scale. 

And since I’m aware of it, it feels like I’m doing so-fluffing-much when, really ... well. It isn’t all that much at all, is it? To another, I could be expected to do way more and here I am, griping like a diva.

Boy has his own thing going on and he is still doing his best to be there for me. Between baseball games and practice and his course and errands for his agoraphobic mother and friends who use his apartment as a hub ... 

This could be a sign that I need a little more in a romantic relationship, it could be that I’m feeling the depressive effects of Keppra, it could be a myriad of things. But 👏 From now on, I’m going to press pause before I go Norman Bates on anyone’s ass over how much of an effort I think they’re making. Because, Goddamn, to anyone looking at me it must seem like I’m doing the bare minimum when, in fact, I’m working harder than I ever have before. 

- xx

❀❀❀

RELATED ARTICLES:

Vol.I

Vol.II

#effort #big sister advice #cocovance blogs #cocovance writes #blogger #blog #making an effort #efforts made #efforts #medication #side-effects #relationships #communication