Tag: Depression

A title meant to draw you into a very confusing experience that I haven’t yet sorted out completely. It is possible other people that have experienced this can relate but I have a hunch it might not be the afterthoughts we agree on.

The Incident

A few weeks ago we were mid-recording of the HugLife Podcast, talking about happiness or toots or cute animals and hope. About 15 minutes in my legs started to go numb. Thinking it was just the way I was sitting I stood up and started trying to shake them out, which made Mike (my co-host) very uncomfortable. I did some stand up podcast for awhile and thinking they had gotten better I sat back down. Probably 10 minutes later in episode 117 (listen here) you will here me go “um, I think we need to take a break for a second.” Although the break really does take 1 second in the episode don’t be confused, it was actually 5 hours. Some real Hollywood trickery.

The reason I decided to take a break was because I had started feeling very faint and dizzy and Mike immediately noticed that my pupils were fully dilated. The only other time I had felt like this was when I was on some sort of drug. Which is pretty easy to talk yourself out of because you know it is an effect of whatever drug you have taken. This however came at a time where I had eaten earlier in the day, thought I was hydrated, hadn’t taken anything or drank any alcohol for days before that. Which scared me more than anything.

Since, I couldn’t pinpoint the cause, I just tried anything that might make me feel better. I laid down and put an ice-pack on my head and tried to relax. Nothing was making it better which is when I went to the bathroom and started throwing up. Even though there was no stomach pain I thought maybe I had gotten food poisoning from what I had eaten earlier in the day. The only thing that did was now make me shaky as well. I felt like my whole body was passing out in increments. The top of my head, then my face, then my arms and chest, down to my legs.

I began to not be able to feel my hands or face. This clicked a little bit for me as one other time I had to go the emergency room months after a car accident with an elk because I was having these symptoms. Maybe it was my neck again! Well they weren’t able to help me with that before but this needed to stop.

Cut to me on my hands and knees kind of rocking back and forth like a child that can’t sit still during story-time. That’s when I decided we should call 911. As I scoot myself to the living area, I could only think about my current lack of health insurance and how if it was possible to not actually go to the hospital that would be great, because America.

The Paramedics

Three gentleman, that could be more accurately described as dudes, arrived to the apartment. The kids next door were jacked about it! One fireman started asking me questions while the other ones just sort of looked at our stuff. I explained how I was feeling and they took my heart rate, which was obviously very high just based on my concern for the way I was feeling. He asked what we were doing before this started and when I said podcasting all three of them noticed the microphones and said “you are not still recording are you?” No sir, I was not really interested in having my death on audio.

He took the rest of my vitals which were all fine. So they said it didn’t seem to be an emergency and if I could just lay down and relax that would be good but that I should see a doctor when I could. The least helpful of the fire fighters was across the room looking at our white board that has my other roommate Mitch and I’s ‘to-do’ lists on it. Mitch had happened to write ‘stop jerking off so much’ on his side. The fire fighter chimed in “oh man, I am like really dyslexic and I read Mitch’s as yours and thought, well how much are you doing that?”

Not really wanting to deal with creepy questions at the time, I laughed and then promptly responded “I think I do that an appropriate amount… but… would that make me feel like this?” They laughed and there was a moment where I thought I was going to be okay.

The Afterthoughts

As I laid on the couch and tried to relax and let the Xanax set in, there was only one thought that came to my very frustrated and fatigued mind. That I wanted to go to a strip club.

In the weeks since then, full of doctors visits and new medication for a crippling anxiety disorder – as I did have multiple more episodes of what is seemingly terrible panic attacks, some in my sleep – I have been trying to figure out why this was my first thought. I have some theories but none can really hold all the way up.

The 4 Theories For Why Monica Wanted To Go To The Strip Club

I was feeling so alone, panicked and broken I would gladly pay a lady to pretend to love me? My thoughts had not been that I wanted a naked person to sit on my lap but that I just wanted someone to rub my back or something. Just a solid alternative to having health insurance.
I was feeling so alone, panicked and broken that I wanted to watch people who we view as those things, so I could find a little solace in the fact I am not the only one who is struggling? Maybe I was hoping it would be obvious they were doing worse than I was and I would be distracted by trying to save them with my amazing stripper advice.
I was so deeply in need of some version of strength I wanted to be around strong women and that’s where I knew they were? Both from an emotional stand point and the impressive limber physical strength. Regardless of if you have ever been or not you know that it takes an Olympic level upper body, lower body and core strength to do some of that pole work. I’m damn sure our Olympic ‘deal with bullshit and do whatever it takes to keep pushing’ team would be led by strippers. Apparently, subliminally I wish our country was run by them.
I wanted so badly to think about anything else and I was well aware that naked people are literally the most distracting thing to other humans, in the world. Maybe I would have forgotten about the muscle I pulled in my neck throwing up or the general feel of doom if there were boobs out? We’ll never know.

I am now on some sweet new medication that seems to be helping a bit. Whether it is just that nothing at all leads to me having debilitating panic attacks or that I let my stress level get way too high, the result has been a horrendous 3 weeks. I’m doing fine, I’ll make it. My shows have been great, in fact the only time I feel completely normal is when I am on stage, maybe another connection to the strippers. Thank you to everyone who has come out to shows!

I have heard that before you think you are going to die your life flashes before your eyes. Well I have almost died, or thought I was going to die, upwards of 4 times and I have only ever seen a stripper flash me before my eyes. This is to all the other beat up people that are frustrated with anything that’s going on, we’ll all collectively take a deep breath and remember that it has been worse.

I love you.

Monica

P.S. New meditation will be up this week! Subscribe to my YouTube Channel.

Also, get your tickets now for the Night Before the Night Before, the show I am producing at Carco Theatre in Renton, Wa on Dec. 23rd. It will greatly decrease my stress level if you buy them now. (Here)

I’ve Been Told to be Quiet

By Monica Nevi

On November 9, 2016

In Blog Entry

Disclaimer: I did not open this beer at 10 am. It was still open from last night and I just started drinking it again at 10 am. Please direct your concerns by writing them on naked pictures of yourself and sending them to my SnapChat (MonicaNevi).

I have been told to be quiet. If you know me, have read me, have seen me on stage you know that is a ridiculous request as I am an extremely quiet person. What I have really been told is to give up. Well, I am not going to do that. Last night we elected Donald Trump as our 45th President, and I want to apologize now for relentlessly using the r-word. I’m sure you have seen your friends or liberal counterparts posting how upset they are about this decision. Maybe you are just as upset. This post is to air the pain and call you to action for what comes next.

Here is what hurts: the fact that someone who has blatantly projected hate onto all of us, is who we put in office because we are dumb. No matter who you are, a person of color, a woman, a gay person, an immigrant, a poor person- Trump thinks you are literally a lesser person than he is. And we just told him he was right. We told every person of color their lives don’t matter. Told every immigrant we do think they are a terrorist or rapist. Told every person in the LGBTQ community they do not count. We just told every woman and every little girl to be quiet and every little boy that they can get away with silencing us. We just told mental illness to go find something else to worry about. We just checked the box that told every sexual assault victim that they deserved it or were asking for it. And we just put a gun to the head of progress and equality and told it to back the fuck up.

I have amazing parents: a mother stronger than any woman I have ever met and a father that would save the world if he was the standard for men in our country. They always told me I could be whatever I wanted and taught me how to love and respect every single other person. But still I have been taught my entire life by everyone else to be quiet. Don’t cause a scene, don’t have an opinion, just go with it. Boys, particularly white boys, have always been taught that they can do whatever they want and it is the sign of a real man to never take no for an answer. Not only CAN they do or have whatever they want but they DESERVE it, just for being a man. I fight everyday in every way I possibly can, hoping that this is not true or that I too am just as deserving of the things I want. Last night that was violently shoved down my throat and it was not consensual. This was all too apparent by Hillary’s concession speech. Her speech was full of dignity, grace and hope. She talked about giving Trump a chance, never giving up in fighting for what you think is right and how she is still proud to be an American… she went quietly! What the fuck! It was an amazing speech, made me cry harder than I already had been but that’s a forcefully obvious example of how society has oppressed women so much that even when we get as close as we can get to that glass ceiling, we still do it quietly. Bitch, you better throw something! I would like us all to take a deep breath and imagine the shit storm that would have been unleashed had he lost.

There is a long list of fundamental flaws in our society, that I harbor extreme embarrassment over, but this is the one I can change. I had to text my brother this morning and tell him to be careful because there will be an increase in violence against minorities; why would I ever have to send that? I’m not going to be quiet anymore, I know I am more than capable of doing the things I want to do. I know for a fact my version of America, the one where we love and support each other and there is no violence or hate, is the correct America. Stop treading lightly and start barking loudly. The only reason people listen to the NRA or the KKK is because they are inflamed, they make noise. Let’s make some fucking noise.

Hillary had to play nice so she could stay on both sides. We do not. We can be a Bernie Sanders-type heavy progressive people that are ready for exactly what we have been looking for. Either we get the equality and peace we have been asking for, or we take this whole motherfucking thing down. We don’t play quietly. We play hard and we play to win.

I thought to myself the other day, as I have many times, “I have been through so much trauma and bullshit, a reward is coming soon right? It has to.” I am terrified that I have started to accept that’s not how it works. We have been fed this idea that if we work hard and do what we are supposed to we will be rewarded and happy but that is not true. That’s a distraction. Most of us have had some shit happen in our lives. Terrible, traumatizing shit and WE DESERVE to get what we want for once. We didn’t do it last night but you bet your life there is a fire. A fire started in me and you and everyone who cares about anyone.

Before you start your comment about how I am a cunt, I know not ALL straight, white men are shitty, entitled people. I know that for sure because I have some amazing versions of them in my life, the best versions. My father is the best version of a straight white man. I have dated great version of this man and I have loved many more amazing versions of the men that will make the difference because they are on our side. One of my roommates took our recycling in this morning – while I cried in my bedroom – and then gave me the $5 from it, in what I can only assume is a gesture of his devotion to closing the wage gap. I know that not all straight white men are bad, but some are rapists. We picked the worst of them to be in charge- Donald Trump is the Brock Turner of orange people.

As you watch the strongest, smartest and best women, LGBTQ, immigrant and people of color cry today realize the severity of what we just did and then realize the severity of what we have to do next. It has to be a massacre, a flood, an all-encompassing storm of love, passion and understanding. There are more of us on the same side than we realize, just barely the majority (the electoral college can suck my balls). As we stay seated on the couch amidst this house fire we started in our own home, I have concluded the only way to do anything about it is to come together. There are more of us that care about each other and our differences than the ones who hate. Sure, you didn’t all make it to the polls, or wrote in Hamarabe and literally threw our country to the bigots but nonetheless there is a fire started. I get it, you did it to start the revolution. I thought that’s what the creepy clowns were but no. It is the creepy president. It has started, be loud, say what you want and when they try to keep you quiet, that just means you are doing it right.

For every tear that falls today, every student that walks out and every parent that explains to their kid there will always be hope, there will always be a movement: I’m glad you are here. My mom has always said the 60’s were a cool time. Janis Joplin lives again.

Comedian

Tag: Depression

After I Thought I Was Dying, I Immediately Wanted To See Naked People?

I’ve Been Told to be Quiet