It seems like my blog has become a mental health blog. But it is what's in my brain, so...
I just wanted to note how happy I am right now.
Just because I'm better-medicated, doesn't mean I'm always happy. I still experience emotions, just not as deeply or as often. They also don't shift so much so quickly. I'm stable, you know? In fact, yesterday, I was very sad and very hopeless. I was dreading my future all day. It wasn't a good day, but I didn't get suicidal. Okay, I may have thought of it as an option, but it was a fleeting thought.
Anyway, that's over now. I'm pretty happy today. And I'm so thankful. I'm even thinking of getting a job soon. My sleep schedule is SO off, and I get so tired sometimes, but otherwise I feel so great! I feel prepared to try again.
I don't feel alone, despite having a more serious diagnosis now. I feel free. I feel like I'm more boring, but also less crazy. I can be me, right? I don't know. I'm just happy!! I feel GOOD!!! Thanks!
Thursday, October 27, 2016
Monday, October 24, 2016
I can breathe
It's hard to describe how things have changed since the antipsychotic.
I didn't realize how dissociated I was. I watched as my life happened, but I wasn't in any sort of control. I didn't realize how powerless I was over my mind. I thought feeling things everyday as if they happened yesterday was normal. For instance, I still lived in 2012. It was impossible for me to not drag up Stephen's infidelity and "chew" on it all day every day. Just let it gnaw at me. The feelings of inadequacy, worthlessness, and deep, unrelenting sadness took over, and I would be miserable (Keeping in mind, we were only dating at the time, and he's a much different, better person now). It was so masochistic. So disproportionate. It wasn't even a choice. Of course I'd want freedom. I wanted to forget, but couldn't. Now, when it ever does come to mind, I have a choice to not think more of it. The raw, searing pain is gone, and it's just something that happened years ago. It's in the past - where it belongs. It really is just a thought, and not something I've unintentionally breathed life into to torment me for the rest of the day. I have control. I have power. I have peace. Finally. And that's just the most prominent example! I don't think of slights or negative interpretations of things people have said or done. I don't cycle the "whys" and "what ifs" behind them. I can let things go! I'm free!
My marriage, obviously, is happier. I don't get annoyed at nothing anymore. My choices no longer feel like they have life and death consequences. It's okay to not have things "just so". People are more tolerable. My life is in my hands (for the most part). It's a whole new world at my fingertips! I can think, I can feel, and I can react on my own terms.
For the most part.
There has to be a catch, and my (very affordable) price to pay is a dulled imagination. Things have less color in my mind. It doesn't feel as realistic. Sleep is not as deep. I don't have to sleep as much (a good thing)! In fact, I feel restless often. It's hard to go to sleep at night. My legs are antsy. I get bored SO easily. My body also has a couple of issues typical for medicine that makes you feel better, but it's worth it.
I'm so happy. I'm SO happy my psychiatrist thought of this treatment and diagnosis. I'm learning so much, and I feel so much better. I don't really get too depressed at all, you know? It's amazing! I feel amazing! I just wish I'd found this sooner. Thank you. It's a miracle!!!
I didn't realize how dissociated I was. I watched as my life happened, but I wasn't in any sort of control. I didn't realize how powerless I was over my mind. I thought feeling things everyday as if they happened yesterday was normal. For instance, I still lived in 2012. It was impossible for me to not drag up Stephen's infidelity and "chew" on it all day every day. Just let it gnaw at me. The feelings of inadequacy, worthlessness, and deep, unrelenting sadness took over, and I would be miserable (Keeping in mind, we were only dating at the time, and he's a much different, better person now). It was so masochistic. So disproportionate. It wasn't even a choice. Of course I'd want freedom. I wanted to forget, but couldn't. Now, when it ever does come to mind, I have a choice to not think more of it. The raw, searing pain is gone, and it's just something that happened years ago. It's in the past - where it belongs. It really is just a thought, and not something I've unintentionally breathed life into to torment me for the rest of the day. I have control. I have power. I have peace. Finally. And that's just the most prominent example! I don't think of slights or negative interpretations of things people have said or done. I don't cycle the "whys" and "what ifs" behind them. I can let things go! I'm free!
My marriage, obviously, is happier. I don't get annoyed at nothing anymore. My choices no longer feel like they have life and death consequences. It's okay to not have things "just so". People are more tolerable. My life is in my hands (for the most part). It's a whole new world at my fingertips! I can think, I can feel, and I can react on my own terms.
For the most part.
There has to be a catch, and my (very affordable) price to pay is a dulled imagination. Things have less color in my mind. It doesn't feel as realistic. Sleep is not as deep. I don't have to sleep as much (a good thing)! In fact, I feel restless often. It's hard to go to sleep at night. My legs are antsy. I get bored SO easily. My body also has a couple of issues typical for medicine that makes you feel better, but it's worth it.
I'm so happy. I'm SO happy my psychiatrist thought of this treatment and diagnosis. I'm learning so much, and I feel so much better. I don't really get too depressed at all, you know? It's amazing! I feel amazing! I just wish I'd found this sooner. Thank you. It's a miracle!!!
Friday, September 30, 2016
BPD
Maybe labels are bad?
I'm already having trouble trying to further validate or throw away the diagnosis. Accuracy is so important and, with such a stigmatized disorder, I really want to make sure it fits before really embracing it. People keep saying that "everyone experiences BPD differently" (there's even a clinically-respected "Quiet BPD" type). And while I sometimes feel like it fits well enough, I sometimes feel like I'm missing key elements.
There are 9 criteria listed in the DSM. For a professional to heavily consider diagnosis, you have to meet 5 or more of those criteria. They are:
Frantic efforts to avoid being abandoned by friends and family.
Unstable personal relationships that alternate between idealization—“I’m so in love!”—and devaluation—“I hate her.” This is also sometimes known as "splitting."
Distorted and unstable self-image, which affects moods, values, opinions, goals and relationships.
Impulsive behaviors that can have dangerous outcomes, such as excessive spending, unsafe sex, substance abuse or reckless driving.
Suicidal and self-harming behavior.
Periods of intense depressed mood, irritability or anxiety lasting a few hours to a few days.
Chronic feelings of boredom or emptiness.
Inappropriate, intense or uncontrollable anger—often followed by shame and guilt.
Dissociative feelings—disconnecting from your thoughts or sense of identity, or “out of body” type of feelings—and stress-related paranoid thoughts. Severe cases of stress can also lead to brief psychotic episodes.
#1: Yes. As far as my conscious knows, I don't have this at all. I know my family wouldn't abandon me. Though I wonder if the reason I don't endeavor to make friends is because I don't want to be rejected. Then again, I've always thought it was because it's a lot of "work" to keep friends, and "hanging out" is really scary and tiring for me. Then again with friends and others, it feels impossible to be completely myself, though I want it so badly. Maybe my brain won't allow it, in order to protect from me being rejected. Like...maybe I'm not even consciously aware of this going on. EDIT: After a lot more education, it turns out that I definitely have this. I read a story about a BPD patient who felt the same exact way I do about weddings/people getting married. Turns out, we don't like getting replaced. It is abandonment/rejection for us. And my theory of pushing people away to avoid rejection is a very common theme. Again, I feel childish for this, but it's just nice to learn more about what really makes me tick. Everything is beginning to make more sense. I'll post again soon.
#2: Yes? At first this made sense to me. With many people, it felt like I would dislike them and then like or even love them again after a single gesture and vice versa. But it never went to a degree where I'd literally hate or be purposely vindictive toward anyone. I'm not sure if hate is necessary though (annoyance or dislike is sometimes used). But "black and white thinking" is definitely no. No one and no situation is either all good or all bad. EDIT: After talking with Stephen, and researching more about what "splitting" actually is, we decided I do this. It's embarrassing and seemingly childish, but knowing it's a common defense mechanism helps.
#3: No. I have a consistently poor self-image, and I know who I am.
#4: Yes. Long stories, but it should be clear that drugs and promiscuity are not part of them.
#5: Yes.
#6: Yes, but... I worry it's my other things. But then Sandra said that having this doesn't mean I don't have the other things. There are definitely swings and irritability, but...I don't know!
#7: Yes, but... what if it's my other things? I'm almost constantly bored, but I just thought it's because no one likes what I like and we don't talk about what I like ever. And I obviously feel empty.
#8: Yes.
#9: Yes. Except for the sense of identity option. That's never been an issue.
So I'm confused. The first three symptoms (the only ones I'm unsure of or defintiely don't have) seem very distinguishing and important. I'm a bit worried about the stigma attached. These symptoms seem so childish. And I feel childish that I even experience them. And a lot of people with BPD in popular articles seem like very manipulative, messed up people (I have little sympathy for people who sleep with married people). But we'll keep going with the treatment and see if it helps.
I'm already having trouble trying to further validate or throw away the diagnosis. Accuracy is so important and, with such a stigmatized disorder, I really want to make sure it fits before really embracing it. People keep saying that "everyone experiences BPD differently" (there's even a clinically-respected "Quiet BPD" type). And while I sometimes feel like it fits well enough, I sometimes feel like I'm missing key elements.
There are 9 criteria listed in the DSM. For a professional to heavily consider diagnosis, you have to meet 5 or more of those criteria. They are:
#1: Yes. As far as my conscious knows, I don't have this at all. I know my family wouldn't abandon me. Though I wonder if the reason I don't endeavor to make friends is because I don't want to be rejected. Then again, I've always thought it was because it's a lot of "work" to keep friends, and "hanging out" is really scary and tiring for me. Then again with friends and others, it feels impossible to be completely myself, though I want it so badly. Maybe my brain won't allow it, in order to protect from me being rejected. Like...maybe I'm not even consciously aware of this going on. EDIT: After a lot more education, it turns out that I definitely have this. I read a story about a BPD patient who felt the same exact way I do about weddings/people getting married. Turns out, we don't like getting replaced. It is abandonment/rejection for us. And my theory of pushing people away to avoid rejection is a very common theme. Again, I feel childish for this, but it's just nice to learn more about what really makes me tick. Everything is beginning to make more sense. I'll post again soon.
#2: Yes? At first this made sense to me. With many people, it felt like I would dislike them and then like or even love them again after a single gesture and vice versa. But it never went to a degree where I'd literally hate or be purposely vindictive toward anyone. I'm not sure if hate is necessary though (annoyance or dislike is sometimes used). But "black and white thinking" is definitely no. No one and no situation is either all good or all bad. EDIT: After talking with Stephen, and researching more about what "splitting" actually is, we decided I do this. It's embarrassing and seemingly childish, but knowing it's a common defense mechanism helps.
#3: No. I have a consistently poor self-image, and I know who I am.
#4: Yes. Long stories, but it should be clear that drugs and promiscuity are not part of them.
#5: Yes.
#6: Yes, but... I worry it's my other things. But then Sandra said that having this doesn't mean I don't have the other things. There are definitely swings and irritability, but...I don't know!
#7: Yes, but... what if it's my other things? I'm almost constantly bored, but I just thought it's because no one likes what I like and we don't talk about what I like ever. And I obviously feel empty.
#8: Yes.
#9: Yes. Except for the sense of identity option. That's never been an issue.
So I'm confused. The first three symptoms (the only ones I'm unsure of or defintiely don't have) seem very distinguishing and important. I'm a bit worried about the stigma attached. These symptoms seem so childish. And I feel childish that I even experience them. And a lot of people with BPD in popular articles seem like very manipulative, messed up people (I have little sympathy for people who sleep with married people). But we'll keep going with the treatment and see if it helps.
Thursday, September 29, 2016
New Diagnosis
I'm excited and anxious at the same time!
Today, I was supposed to get my Buspirone doubled and an antidepressant (yay). I wasn't looking forward to it, but was happy to get more Buspirone! It really helps with general anxiety symptoms. Sandra is a blessing. She seems to know everything. Nearly every medicine she's prescribed has worked really well for me. So today, when I was telling her some experiences I had this week, she asked: Do you know anything about BPD?
Not really. I'd heard of it in social work class, but...yeah. She prescribed an anti-psychotic as I told her more. She got out her DSM and we went through it. Yeah. Borderline Personality Disorder. I had more than 5 of the 9 symptoms needed to make a diagnosis. And now I'm looking at it myself. It makes sense. Lots of things are beginning to make a lot of sense. Of course, it has a very high co-morbidity of depression and anxiety disorders.
Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh.
I think we found the final puzzle piece.
I'm seriously going to cry. I'm so grateful there is a chance at normalcy now that we've finally figured out what's going on.
Today, I was supposed to get my Buspirone doubled and an antidepressant (yay). I wasn't looking forward to it, but was happy to get more Buspirone! It really helps with general anxiety symptoms. Sandra is a blessing. She seems to know everything. Nearly every medicine she's prescribed has worked really well for me. So today, when I was telling her some experiences I had this week, she asked: Do you know anything about BPD?
Not really. I'd heard of it in social work class, but...yeah. She prescribed an anti-psychotic as I told her more. She got out her DSM and we went through it. Yeah. Borderline Personality Disorder. I had more than 5 of the 9 symptoms needed to make a diagnosis. And now I'm looking at it myself. It makes sense. Lots of things are beginning to make a lot of sense. Of course, it has a very high co-morbidity of depression and anxiety disorders.
Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh.
I think we found the final puzzle piece.
I'm seriously going to cry. I'm so grateful there is a chance at normalcy now that we've finally figured out what's going on.
Saturday, September 10, 2016
(Barely) hanging on
It's been tough, but I'm trying to be tough right back.
Don't tell anyone, but someone skipped two classes this week. I know, but I'm drowning in my own thoughts. They're killing me, and getting heavier and louder. I need help. I made an appointment to see the psychiatrist as soon as school started. My back is hurting more and more. I CANNOT stop eating. Can't sleep because I'm obsessing. Worrying. Distracting myself.
My heart is breaking. I even had a nightmare about "her" again, but this was the first one that didn't end in us becoming friends, it ended in more hurt. It messed up my whole day. I knew what every detail symbolized. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever completely get over it. Why is that responsibility mine? I didn't do anything wrong. Why did he even tell me?
This life isn't meant for me, it's not a good fit. That's what this all feels like, trying to fit a triangle-shaped block into a circular hole. I don't know what to do anymore.
Don't tell anyone, but someone skipped two classes this week. I know, but I'm drowning in my own thoughts. They're killing me, and getting heavier and louder. I need help. I made an appointment to see the psychiatrist as soon as school started. My back is hurting more and more. I CANNOT stop eating. Can't sleep because I'm obsessing. Worrying. Distracting myself.
My heart is breaking. I even had a nightmare about "her" again, but this was the first one that didn't end in us becoming friends, it ended in more hurt. It messed up my whole day. I knew what every detail symbolized. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever completely get over it. Why is that responsibility mine? I didn't do anything wrong. Why did he even tell me?
This life isn't meant for me, it's not a good fit. That's what this all feels like, trying to fit a triangle-shaped block into a circular hole. I don't know what to do anymore.
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
A message in the dark
So Stephen has a great job. They give him free food, free drinks, and free shirts on the regular. They went a little beyond recently, when they bought every employee (+1) tickets to the new Star Trek movie.
Wow! We were pretty stoked. We had a couple of weeks to look forward to the movie. Stephen got half the day off, I dressed, he got a haircut, and off we were.
As fate (or dumb gps) would have it, we were a few minutes late. Less than five. Nothing was amiss as we strolled into the dark theatre. We grabbed some complementary popcorn, and headed to our seats.
Ascending the stairs, a dormant feeling yawned and rubbed it's sleepy eyes. Fear. It distinguishes itself from the normal discomfort of being in public. It's SO dark. I can only see tiny LED lights on the sides of the rows of seats. Row A, B, C... we're in row J? As we climb higher and higher, the room seems darker and darker. The fear stirs and stretches it's limber arms, but it goes ignored.
Finally, the letter 'J' peered through the darkness like a beacon. I look up from the ground. Our seats are in the middle of the row - the row filled with people who just got comfy, who want to watch the movie that JUST started. I guess previews are a thing of the past? Fear slowly slides the covers off. "It's fine," I lie. "We're just gonna have to be annoying for a couple of seconds as we find our seats. Not a big deal." I don't look forward to navigating legs and purses in the pitch black, but I push myself...right up to the first pair of legs.
Suddenly, fear has me by the throat, and I can only feel panic. Oh my gosh, I can't breathe! Someone has pushed all the air from my lungs. I need to get out of here! I turn around, and carefully fly down the barely-lit stairs. Tears well up in my eyes, but I can't tell if it's from fear, embarrassment, disappointment, or all three.
I manage to find a bench in the hallway, where I breathe as deeply as possible without drawing attention. I try to stifle my tears, and vigorously wipe away the ones I can't. My head hangs in shame and disappointment and fear slowly, reluctantly releases it's grip.
Stephen eventually realizes I haven't gone for drinks. He materializes, sympathy in his eyes. "What happened?" he asks. I managed to blubber out that I was sorry and that, fear's red finger marks still hot on my neck, I didn't want to go back in there. He consoled me for 20 or 30 minutes as we went back and forth on what to do next. I just wanted to retreat home. He wanted to see the movie, but not without me.
It was around this time that I was hit with an unexpected thought, a message in a bottle that had been sloshing around in the subconscious sea of my brain. "God didn't curse me with this so I'd be unhappy and crumble beneath it's weight."
Of course, I'd been connecting this one incident to every incident in my life and just general, overall reclusive state. How miserable it is. How I just wish I could be free - to be myself, have a job I'd love, to go out to movies or church and just have some control. This message pertained to everything.
I wasn't going to crumble. Fear won't have this victory. Not entirely. I agreed to go back in the theatre, but only if we found seats on the end of the row. Stephen found some in the perfect place, we got some soda, and we enjoyed the remainder of the film.
Wow! We were pretty stoked. We had a couple of weeks to look forward to the movie. Stephen got half the day off, I dressed, he got a haircut, and off we were.
As fate (or dumb gps) would have it, we were a few minutes late. Less than five. Nothing was amiss as we strolled into the dark theatre. We grabbed some complementary popcorn, and headed to our seats.
Ascending the stairs, a dormant feeling yawned and rubbed it's sleepy eyes. Fear. It distinguishes itself from the normal discomfort of being in public. It's SO dark. I can only see tiny LED lights on the sides of the rows of seats. Row A, B, C... we're in row J? As we climb higher and higher, the room seems darker and darker. The fear stirs and stretches it's limber arms, but it goes ignored.
Finally, the letter 'J' peered through the darkness like a beacon. I look up from the ground. Our seats are in the middle of the row - the row filled with people who just got comfy, who want to watch the movie that JUST started. I guess previews are a thing of the past? Fear slowly slides the covers off. "It's fine," I lie. "We're just gonna have to be annoying for a couple of seconds as we find our seats. Not a big deal." I don't look forward to navigating legs and purses in the pitch black, but I push myself...right up to the first pair of legs.
Suddenly, fear has me by the throat, and I can only feel panic. Oh my gosh, I can't breathe! Someone has pushed all the air from my lungs. I need to get out of here! I turn around, and carefully fly down the barely-lit stairs. Tears well up in my eyes, but I can't tell if it's from fear, embarrassment, disappointment, or all three.
I manage to find a bench in the hallway, where I breathe as deeply as possible without drawing attention. I try to stifle my tears, and vigorously wipe away the ones I can't. My head hangs in shame and disappointment and fear slowly, reluctantly releases it's grip.
Stephen eventually realizes I haven't gone for drinks. He materializes, sympathy in his eyes. "What happened?" he asks. I managed to blubber out that I was sorry and that, fear's red finger marks still hot on my neck, I didn't want to go back in there. He consoled me for 20 or 30 minutes as we went back and forth on what to do next. I just wanted to retreat home. He wanted to see the movie, but not without me.
It was around this time that I was hit with an unexpected thought, a message in a bottle that had been sloshing around in the subconscious sea of my brain. "God didn't curse me with this so I'd be unhappy and crumble beneath it's weight."
Of course, I'd been connecting this one incident to every incident in my life and just general, overall reclusive state. How miserable it is. How I just wish I could be free - to be myself, have a job I'd love, to go out to movies or church and just have some control. This message pertained to everything.
I wasn't going to crumble. Fear won't have this victory. Not entirely. I agreed to go back in the theatre, but only if we found seats on the end of the row. Stephen found some in the perfect place, we got some soda, and we enjoyed the remainder of the film.
Friday, July 22, 2016
Grateful (a blah blah blah post)
I don't know why (sometimes I wonder if I'm actually bipolar II), but I felt good today. I did some dishes, made dinner, and cleaned half the stove! For some reason, I'm thinking of going back to college, too. I guess possibility is inspiring.
Recently, I took two personality assessments. The Ipip-Neo, and a holland career quiz thingy by Truity. The Ipip-Neo is a professional test to measure neuroticism. I got the HIGHEST SCORE POSSIBLE (99, and then almost perfect 99s in every subcategory)! That was *shocking* to me. I thought I'd get average, tops.
Then, the holland career test. The highest score was "Thinker" type, with "Helper" and "Creator" also high. The others ("Builder", "Organizer", and "Persuader") were scored as low.
Well...the only things of interest that matched my categories were psychologist, sociologist, social worker, and epidemiologist. Interestingly, EMT, Surgical Technician, and Massage Therapist include "Builder" (along with at least one category I scored high in), and funeral service worker included "Organizer" AND "Persuader". It makes me wonder if I haven't had success because I've been chasing jobs that aren't cut out for me. Not to mention "Helper" jobs are iffy with my social phobia - they like to help people.
I know I've considered it before, but I think I'd LOVE to be an epidemiologist. And social work is awesome.
Ugh! I don't know!!! But I'm excited for possibility again. I'm ready to try again.
Recently, I took two personality assessments. The Ipip-Neo, and a holland career quiz thingy by Truity. The Ipip-Neo is a professional test to measure neuroticism. I got the HIGHEST SCORE POSSIBLE (99, and then almost perfect 99s in every subcategory)! That was *shocking* to me. I thought I'd get average, tops.
Then, the holland career test. The highest score was "Thinker" type, with "Helper" and "Creator" also high. The others ("Builder", "Organizer", and "Persuader") were scored as low.
Well...the only things of interest that matched my categories were psychologist, sociologist, social worker, and epidemiologist. Interestingly, EMT, Surgical Technician, and Massage Therapist include "Builder" (along with at least one category I scored high in), and funeral service worker included "Organizer" AND "Persuader". It makes me wonder if I haven't had success because I've been chasing jobs that aren't cut out for me. Not to mention "Helper" jobs are iffy with my social phobia - they like to help people.
I know I've considered it before, but I think I'd LOVE to be an epidemiologist. And social work is awesome.
Ugh! I don't know!!! But I'm excited for possibility again. I'm ready to try again.
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