Hailey McDonald

The daily self-portraits, recollections and ramblings from an elfish, restless and slightly neurotic journalism student from Vancouver.

I’m so sick and tired of being sick and tired. It feels like I have to jump though hoops to get the slightest bit of help. I hope my luck turns cause at the current moment I’m so broke it’s pathetic.

Fuck. Just because I’ve obligatorily chosen to help my dad out once in a while to somehow repay the debt of being such a little brat, it’s become a big deal. He doesn’t pay me. I’m financially responsible for my living situation, including a huge fucking phone bill Casey left me with, my doctor knows all of this and knows how severe my anxiety is and has subsequently written me off of all high-stress jobs. Because I help my family out once in a while, does not make me an employee.

I’m so sick of this place. I just want to get my anxiety issues dealt with so I can go back to a real job one day. Answering phones and fixing computers and sitting in here when he goes to do various things doesn’t constitute as working when I don’t make a single fucking dime doing it.

If I could go back home to a place where I could be financially independent again, once I’m clear that a lot of my personal issues have been taken care of, then do you think I’d be helping my dad out once in a while for fucking nothing

Casey really fucking screwed me when he coincidentally took $700 out of our bank account and went away. Maybe I wouldn’t be so fucking much in debt if I had that money.

I’ll admit it, I’ve been on income assistance since October. I hate being on it, especially because it makes you feel like a fucking scum bag.  I hate that I’ve been a guinea pig of the medical system for so many fucking years. I hate everything the Okanagan has had to offer me, which has literally been zilch. I don’t remember the last time I even had money. I’m so fucking broke, I don’t even have a bra that fits me because my boobs have gotten bigger.

Fuck.

I feel as if it would be therapeutic for me to start blogging again.

I’m still up in the Okanagan, but not for much longer. I’ll be going back home to my sweet, sweet Vancouver very soon (by at least the middle of next month).

My boyfriend is currently going through some personal shit and dealing with past issues which has left him kind of MIA in my life at the moment.

This year has probably been one of the worst of my short life, to be honest. But, I’ve learned a hell of a lot.

I think I’m ready to go back and reestablish myself, get a job or my job at Superstore back, pay my bills and save money while living at home for a little while until Casey’s finished dealing with some personal issues that have caused a rift between us for a temporary period of time. I’m going to find someone to take my cats for a little while.

I’m so excited and a little nervous about restarting my life. I’m basically restarting from square one. This place and everything about the last 11 months has chewed me up and spit me out. I’m ready to embrace happiness again, friends, love, my beloved cupi-doll makeup looks and my skirt and thigh-high combos.

I’m excited to be excited to live again.

In the last few months, especially since Casey left, I’ve felt really trapped, stuck, hopeless and just generally depressed. I’m trying really hard to get out of this rut I’ve found myself in, but it’s easier said than done. I think going home will be the best thing for me.

I can only hope and pray that I’m able to retransform myself and my life into something I can be proud of.

I’m kinda bummed out. I spent the afternoon and part of the evening with my boyfriend, but he was so exhausted from trying to help out a guy we know and getting fucked over (yet again by the same guy), he pretty much slept our whole visit.

I looked really cute and I just wanted to love on my boyfriend. I’m going to let him just get a good night’s sleep and try again to see him tomorrow. I love him to pieces and hates how much he feels he needs to do for others in order just to get false hope and broken promises for the smidget of hope that these people will change.

I just want us both making money so we can figure it out and have a real chance at a life together. I love him.

I went to see the psychiatrist for the first time ever today. The doctor that I go talk to about anxiety sent me. He took me off of my Ativan and Clonazepam, increased my Propanalol dosage and pushed some more Seroquel on me to sleep. He gave me low-dose Xanex to take and some other medication that conveniently isn’t available anywhere up here until late next week.. so now I have to speak to him and try to figure out how to minimize my anxiety in the meantime.

Every time I’ve been “diagnosed” with anxiety, doctors have tried to push anti-depressants on me because they sometimes work for people with anxiety (because a lot of the time the two go hand in hand).

However, the doctor assured me that he doesn’t believe I’m chemically or clinically depressed at all. He re-diagnosed me with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and mild OCD and officially diagnosed me with PTSD, which he thinks is a long-term psychological symptom of my grandfather’s murder, which makes sense.

I’m going to see my babes tomorrow! I’m super stoked. I’m gonna kiss him hard.

In the meantime, I’m baked and melatonin beats Seroquel anyday.

My mum’s here! Thank God.

My grandmother and dad are very messy fucking people and it drives me insane. My mother, however, provides organization and order to an extent which my obsessive compulsive disorder is mostly comfortable with (except when she used to take clothes from me and put them back in the wrong spot).

I can’t wait to help her make this place feel a little homier while I’m here.

I feel like I’m stuck between a rock and a hardspot. Either I live here for a while, get more financially stable and work on KC and I slowly or I make some money, blow this pop stand and go back to living with the man I love. Either way, my dad and boyfriend both hate each other’s guts and I understand my boyfriend’s perspective 110 per cent, but at the same time, the only way my dad’s ever been a typical dad is with his ability to provide, which he feels is the equivalent to showing love. He feels threatened by the idea that someone else could metaphorically “take care of me,” although the goal is to be able to take care of myself, no matter what.

Why can’t life just be a little bit easier lately?

I’m exhausted. I spent the entire day in the store by myself.

I can’t wait to see my mommy tomorrow. I miss her so fucking much.

I’m trying really hard to find the right words for how I feel about my life right now. I’m hopeful, but I’m crudely realistic.

I just got back to the store from seeing KC for the first time in six days. Oh God, how I missed him. We started kissing and just cuddling each other like it was the last time we would ever do that. But we talked. We’re going to make it work. We just need time. I gotta get my shit together and our bills paid and try to work on my relationship with my family as well.

Either way, my heart is a lot happier than it’s been in days. Seeing him gave me hope. He’s my person. Sure, we have our issues, just like every couple does. But he’s faithful, loyal, honest, protective and knows me better than anyone.

I could be wearing sweat pants and have my hair in a ball on top of my head with no makeup on and he still would tell me how beautiful he thinks I am and make me a cup of tea on top of it.

Our love for each other is realer than anything I’ve ever felt before.

I’m praying and hoping we can just make this work.

I was sad today. KC had been texting me really long, heart-felt messages all morning and it made me cry. I miss him and love him, I just hate what he said and I know that he regrets it, but I still just wanna be with him.

In a perfect world we’d have our shit together faster than expected, find a place, live normally, be happy and in love and eventually go back to Vancouver. Then my dad would have no choice but to just simply give him a chance. I’m praying for a fucking miracle.

And I do plan on going back to my old blogging/lifestyle of dressing cute and looking like a cupi-doll and documenting it through photography.. I just never planned for my New Year’s resolution to be to try and keep relationships with both the love of my life and my family.

Dorthy reminded me yesterday of all of the good qualities I have and that I’m determined with big dreams. It did inspire me a little.

Either way, I still really miss my boyfriend. And yes, I say that present tense because it’s not over ‘til it’s over.

Feeling feelings.

I got up really early this morning, had a shower, put on makeup and opened the store. At around 1, Kari, a girl who lives in this town drove me to a therapy appointment I had made with Dorthy, a counselor whom I’ve been seeing since May.

Dorthy had quite a bit to say about my current situation and the men involved. She made a suggestion that I go into an in-patient post-the-situation-I-was-in-last-year facility for six weeks in Kelowna, which I happen to disagree with. Either way, it was nice to tell someone neutral the situation I’ve had to get myself in. I don’t trust a lot of people to be that way right now, as everyone likes to talk in my family. I’m going to see her again next week.

I was hoping to see Casey today. Didn’t work out. I’m a little disappointed.

I haven’t felt right since I left KC. I don’t wanna do anything. I’m trying really hard to be positive, but it’s not the easiest thing in the world when you feel like you abandoned the love of your life, even if he instigated it. I know he’s regretting it now. He’s blaming me for going back to my dad’s, even though he helped me pack all my shit and told me that’s what he wanted. What it comes down to is his alpha-male way of life. If he can’t provide for me, he doesn’t want to be with me. But right now, I also need to be able to provide for myself. Sigh.

I have no energy. My heart is so sad. This is really the last thing that I ever thought would happen or wanted to happen. I feel displaced. I’m currently sleeping on the couch of my dad’s house, helping him with his business and whatever so that I can make money to pay my bills off ($600 to Telus and $180 to some collections company).

I just hope that KC and I can get our shit straight so that if I don’t want to, I won’t have to rely on my parents anymore to bail me out of bad situations. I miss my independence and it’s one of my goals this year to get it back.