Awkward things I’ll definitely do at my support group


As a young millennial who’s tried several different ways to find help for their anxiety/depression/suicidal tendencies, and has yet to find an effective and affordable solution, finding a support group has both induced relief and anxiety, because there’s not much else beyond this. This has to be it.

But what’s the worst that could happen? Instead of thinking of ways I could get in my own way in this respect, I’m mostly just worried about making a fool of myself.

I’m going to smile uncomfortably while speaking.giphy

I’m going to cry during someone else’s share and try to hide it.giphy (1)

I’m going to want to hug a stranger, but will ask first.giphy (2)

Can I bring doughnuts? Not just for myself, but for everyone.

giphy (6)

I’m going to fight feeling terrible about my pathetic story after hearing someone’s really powerful one.

giphy (3)

I’m going to be self-conscious talking about suicide with my husband in the room.giphy (4)

I’m going to want to flake out and not attend one, or multiple nights, but I’ll go anyway.giphy (5)

It’s going to be aggravating, embarrassing and painful, but no matter how much awkward or how much derp I am, it has to work.


More reactions to everyday sexism


I just returned from an interview as part of my job as a reporter, to which I’d decided to walk, because it was only a 10-minute walk and it’s spring. But of course, I experienced what I was raised to expect and tolerate; assholes.

In a short 10-minute walk, I experienced an entire list of things that are way too common for anyone to have asked for it.

1.When you feel like you HAVE to say hi to a guy when they say hi to you, even when they definitely aren’t making eye contact.


2. When you can feel your skin crawl while some old guy who probably has children stares at you.


3. When you start to question your definitely-not-come-hither outfit just because some pervert hooted at you.


4. When you Google Maps directions to walk somewhere, and rethink going because the directions take you off heavily-trafficked streets.


5. When you make the conscious decision not to make eye contact with anyone, because that may be too inviting.


6. When you’re walking down the street alone, in broad daylight, but still feel the need to walk  closer to another person so you aren’t singled out… again.


7. When you’re relieved to see other women.


8. When you have to clench your fist not to flip a cat caller off because you’re alone, and he’s a man.


9. When you realize part of the reason you loved this haircut was because you thought it wouldn’t attract pigs, and you were wrong.


10. When you realize the moment you get back to work/home/a familiar place that you were clenching your teeth the entire time you were outside.


6 amusing things about depression


In honor of stopping my pills and feeling semi-normal for the first time in a while, here are the things I’ve just embraced about depression, and even find somewhat amusing.

When you know you’re only getting compliments because people don’t know how else to talk to you.


When your mom says “your self esteem” in reference to your mental illness.


When someone tries to talk to you while you’re working through an anxiety attack.


“How are you doing?”


When someone can relate to your brain.


When you finally relax and your body handles it by twitching.


10 times I realized I’m Dee Reynolds


1. When I start to think about planning a honeymoon.


2. The morning after I test my new wine glass that claims to be able to hold a bottle of wine… and it wasn’t lying.


3. That time I ordered a Quarter Pounder with cheese, and they forgot the cheese.


4. Every time Beyonce comes on.


5. When I get paid and automatically have to pay my loans.


6. When someone reminds me of my soft voice/quiet tendencies.


7. “When are you going to have kids?”


8. When my husband tries to talk to me before I’m ready to wake up.


9. When my friends and I go to Target.


10. When I try to drink like I used to in college.


I’ve grown up way too fast since graduating


It was a year ago that I graduated from college, and in that time I’ve moved across the country twice, moved in with my significant other, had two jobs, been promoted, gotten engaged to said significant other and have started noticing just how important moisturizer is to the skin underneath my eyes… because it’s begun to wrinkle. I’m basically a shar pei underneath my eyes now.


But beyond wrinkles, doing all this stuff in so little time has caused me to age mentally by, like, at least 15 years. It’s most noticeable when I’m interacting with fellow post-grads. Between the lingo that I’ve lost track of, and the energy I’ve lost altogether, I’m no longer a peer. I’m pretty much that aunt on Facebook who still capitalizes “lol” and shares the same eCards that were popular six years ago (I don’t capitalize “lol.” I don’t even use “lol,” because rarely do I “laugh out loud.” That’s just false advertising. You don’t laugh out loud when I ask you what you’re up to, and you say “nothing lol.” You’re lol’ing like everyone was brb’ing back in 1999. Nobody ever just brb’d. They left. They were gone. The latest “Friends” episode was clearly more important than making plans to see “Fight Club” before it left theaters.).

...Because you won't be.

…Because you won’t be.

1. Going out to the bar after work is a fantasy that likely will never happen. Not unless we gain 10 more hours the next time we set our clocks back for daylight saving time. I can’t just pick up a Red Bull and throw on my hooker boots anymore. I need a nap, a DD and a Subway sandwich as insurance for my laughably low tolerance.


2. When you use this week’s random new millenial phrase, such as “on fleek” or “bae,” I make this face:


3. I have no idea which reality shows are now on MTV. I gave up when “Teen Mom” just inspired more teens to become moms.


4. When I see minors (that’s another thing, I say “minors”) doing things they shouldn’t, I often say to myself, “Where is your mother?” I revel in the thought of taking those teens by the ears, taking them home to their mothers and having those mothers say, “Thank you, responsible twenty-something who acts at least 15 years older than she really is. I hope this child turns out to be just like you.”


But, hey, here’s to being young.

Whiplash: When you get a promotion and engaged within two weeks


So, you know how I said I was in a rut? I’m not anymore. I’m actually losing my mind with absolute happiness, because in the last two weeks, I’ve gotten a fantastic promotion after only working here for a month…


… And then, the most amazing man in the whole entire world asked me to marry him, and I was like…


I cannot explain how ridiculously, overwhelmingly, mind-blowingly happy I am right now. I’ve had the goofiest smile on my face for three days now, and it’s not going away anytime soon. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, this job is everything I’ve ever wanted and combined it’s better than winning the lottery.

My hope is that everyone else has at least one day in which they are so stupidly happy that people randomly catch you smiling and it makes them smile (yes, that’s happened several times to me).

And that’s all.


These are my (mom jeans) confessions


I recently bought jeans for the first time since high school. If you ever feel like your self esteem is too high, go out to American Eagle and buy pants for the first time in five years. Try them on under the fluorescent lighting, and pay close attention to the way the cellulite you’ve been ignoring suddenly hits up your thighs faster than your eyes can fill up with tears immediately following.


So I realized a couple things about my relationship with jeans, and how it’s changed in the past five years.

  • I love mom jeans. And I have a feeling this is a secret among many women. Mom jeans are very similar to the leggings I’d replaced denim with; they go up past your belly button, they cover that giant butt that goes half-way up my back and they stretch. I know, I know, just give me a fanny pack and call it a day.


  • I’ve gotten heavier since the last time I wore jeans. Not that big of a surprise to some people. But for someone who hasn’t weighed themselves since the 10th grade (and who specifically asks the nice nurse at her check-ups not to announce the number revealed on the scale), it was a pretty big blow. It’s not like I gained a whole buffalo’s worth, but it was jarring to realize that, no, Blayne, you don’t have the figure of a 12-year-old boy anymore, and Forever 21 will not be the place you shop forever. And, yeah, you’re going to fluctuate as you get older and (ugh) have kids. You’re aging, Peter Pan.


  • I have no idea how people coordinate an outfit with jeans. I’ve seen it happen; people successfully dress themselves everyday to make jeans look like a practical piece of clothing, and even like they meant to do it. But I have no idea how to get the right shoes, shirts and hairstyles into one outfit that includes jeans. Leggings aren’t a problem, just put on a large sweater/t-shirt, big boots or flats, and you’re set. But jeans function in a completely different way. I don’t know, I’m probably going to have to Google this a few times until I figure it out.


  • But I guess the good news is that jeans don’t look terrible on me. They do a pretty good job of encasing everything I have going on and making it all look like I take care of myself. When I have jeans on, I no longer look like a college student who just rolled out of bed. However, I need to work on not looking like I’m on my way to move my kid into their dorm. That’s just too many years in one pair of jeans.


  • I remember why I dislike wearing jeans so much, and cannot wait to get back in my leggings.