It always makes me sad when somebody didn't/couldn't get the right help in time. Reading this woman's blog... this *stranger's* final words to a social networking community, I felt her pain. I'm pretty balanced (almost "normal" by some people's standards) right now, but that could have been me a thousand times already. I've been completely numb, in a trance, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep and not wake up. I survive an illness that kills many, but how? How do so many of us live an internal hell and come out the other side of it? Nobody deserves to live and die this way... using our own hands to take our own lives and ruining countless others'. The majority of us have treatable illnesses, but we have to try, push and work for it. It's obtainable and worth the hardship that comes with recovering. If you ever read a post like @TheBethBlog's react immediately. Find out who they know and get somebody over there. Sometimes it's too late, but at least you tried to save a life.
RIP thebeth.net
Wednesday 19 October 2011
Sunday 9 October 2011
Hello, how am I today?
I'm unable to describe my own symptoms, thoughts and feelings. Only when I read about them am I able to say "yes, this is it. This is exactly how I think/feel/act". This makes getting treatment that much more difficult. Do you know how hard it is to get proper help when you can't describe any symptoms? My doctors want me to detail and be specific, but I'm unable to give them the information they want. I end up being extremely frustrated with no resolution because they can't possibly know what I need. They seem equally as frustrated with me. They probably wonder why a person cannot answer a simple question about themselves.
I understand that "I don't feel right" or "I feel crazy" are not suitable answers, but it's what I know. The best I can do for my future visits is to write down symptoms I research online that apply to me, however if asked to detail any further, I'm screwed. I'm beginning to think that regardless of how much knowledge and experience a person has, if they're not mentally ill, there's no way they can possibly understand it.
I understand that "I don't feel right" or "I feel crazy" are not suitable answers, but it's what I know. The best I can do for my future visits is to write down symptoms I research online that apply to me, however if asked to detail any further, I'm screwed. I'm beginning to think that regardless of how much knowledge and experience a person has, if they're not mentally ill, there's no way they can possibly understand it.
Monday 19 September 2011
Adventures in Mental Illness
I didn't consider that I was ill until two years ago. Looking back on my life, I see many symptoms, cycles and behaviors of a mentally ill person. I've always known I had anxiety, so that was nothing new. Two years ago, late fall, I started feeling more weighed down than I ever had before. I had difficulties getting out of bed, showering, doing dishes, leaving the house. My muscles ached, I felt sick and lethargic. It didn't take long to realize I had depression.
December 2009 was the darkest, lowest month I had ever experienced. Unfortunately that wasn't the last time, nor would it be the worst I'd ever feel. By the end of that month, me and the man I was already in love with jumped into a whirlwind relationship. This immediately "cured" me of my depression. It was so perfect and magical for months, and I thought depression had just been a temporary phase in my life.
After a few months in a perfect relationship, I started showing extreme signs of borderline personality disorder. I was desperate not to lose him and the fear of abandonment consumed me, even though I had nothing to worry about. In my mind, he'd be a hero one moment, and a villain the next. My mind would make up scenarios and I'd become needlessly angry and suspicious. I didn't want him out of my sight. I needed constant contact with him to feel okay. I was painfully insecure and had no self worth. I couldn't let go of the past. I fought with him incessantly. My perception was totally off. I went through periods of extreme depression. He tried to stay and make me happy, but he could no longer handle the pressure. It was like he died on me. One minute he was in my life, the next he was gone forever.
You cannot imagine what this did to me emotionally. I had a complete mental breakdown and was hospitalized. I was out of my mind. There are weeks, possibly months that I don't even remember.
It wasn't until April of this year that I wondered if maybe my ongoing grief, hatred and resentment, relentless depression and anxiety went deeper than what should have been a simple breakup. A healthy person would have gone through the normal stages of grief and reached acceptance already. I was trapped in the worst and longest depression of my life. I was suicidal again so I decided to start the long process of getting mental help.
I've made progress since then. I've been able to research and get some understanding of bpd and what skills are taught in therapy. I'm better able to control my actions, anger, and the things I say. I give people more trust, freedom and understanding. I put myself in their shoes to gain better perspective. However, no matter how much I change about myself, the past isn't going to change with it. I leave him alone now. He doesn't need a mentally ill person in his life.
So, now I live with an illness I didn't know I had two years ago. I guess it just took me 29 years to lose control of it. Luckily the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.
December 2009 was the darkest, lowest month I had ever experienced. Unfortunately that wasn't the last time, nor would it be the worst I'd ever feel. By the end of that month, me and the man I was already in love with jumped into a whirlwind relationship. This immediately "cured" me of my depression. It was so perfect and magical for months, and I thought depression had just been a temporary phase in my life.
After a few months in a perfect relationship, I started showing extreme signs of borderline personality disorder. I was desperate not to lose him and the fear of abandonment consumed me, even though I had nothing to worry about. In my mind, he'd be a hero one moment, and a villain the next. My mind would make up scenarios and I'd become needlessly angry and suspicious. I didn't want him out of my sight. I needed constant contact with him to feel okay. I was painfully insecure and had no self worth. I couldn't let go of the past. I fought with him incessantly. My perception was totally off. I went through periods of extreme depression. He tried to stay and make me happy, but he could no longer handle the pressure. It was like he died on me. One minute he was in my life, the next he was gone forever.
You cannot imagine what this did to me emotionally. I had a complete mental breakdown and was hospitalized. I was out of my mind. There are weeks, possibly months that I don't even remember.
It wasn't until April of this year that I wondered if maybe my ongoing grief, hatred and resentment, relentless depression and anxiety went deeper than what should have been a simple breakup. A healthy person would have gone through the normal stages of grief and reached acceptance already. I was trapped in the worst and longest depression of my life. I was suicidal again so I decided to start the long process of getting mental help.
I've made progress since then. I've been able to research and get some understanding of bpd and what skills are taught in therapy. I'm better able to control my actions, anger, and the things I say. I give people more trust, freedom and understanding. I put myself in their shoes to gain better perspective. However, no matter how much I change about myself, the past isn't going to change with it. I leave him alone now. He doesn't need a mentally ill person in his life.
So, now I live with an illness I didn't know I had two years ago. I guess it just took me 29 years to lose control of it. Luckily the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.
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