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Found 38 results

  1. So the story is really complicated but I don't know how to move on with my life after it. To summarize, I got married 4.5 years ago and we moved here together. From the beginning he constantly threatened me with divorce which took its toll on my mood (I tried commiting suicide a few months after moving here). I never wanted to cheat but in addition to threats of divorce, he always called me oversexual and suggested I see a doctor (I wanted sex once a day... not unusual for a guy). Despite all of this I worked hard at a job I hated to support the both of us (he wouldn't work, he was a full time student and could have worked to help me, but he didn't want to do anything not related to his field of study). Anyway, fast forward we got our green cards (from my work that I only stayed at for him). A few months later he started dating (we were trying an open relationship but dating was not supposed to be allowed). He also lost "part" of his virginity to the guy he was dating and who is now his current boyfriend. He went back home to visit for the summer and asked me for a divorce 7000 miles away. We agreed to try and work through it, but meanwhile he was having sex with lots of different guys and he got back here only to mislead me and get me to still pay for his expenses despite being in love with someone else. He claimed "I can't decide about our relationship if I don't have food" so of course I bought him food... I'm bipolar and I have tried years and years of medications with no luck. Earlier this year I started smoking meth which I know is not good for you. I minimize the risks as much as possible of course and I can hold my own in an argument about whether it's actually as bad as the media portrays (for example, I know hypertension can cause LVH which is a serious risk factor for things like sudden cardiac death, not to mention aortic dissection and congestive heart failure... I want to be a vet lol). So here's the thing, smoking meth helps prevent my suicidal thoughts, but I do want to give it up and start focusing on my future. I need help though. Logically I don't want to be married to him, he's a terrible person (you can't say deep down he's a good person, I left out something very big because it's too painful for now, but I can share if it helps you help me :-( ). How can I move on from what he did? I just can't seem to do it. Logic is failing me which really sucks. What has cheered me up lately is accepting the fact that I think I'm done with relationships. I've had it, and I don't want it. You can say I'm jaded, I'm just in shock, or I'll change my mind one day, but it's the only thing that helps me when I'm feeling down. Recognizing that that part of my life is over. I do have a long road ahead of me, vet school (hopefully) but first I have to work about 2 years to save up for it. But despite a great plan, I can't get over it. It doesn't help that he's not cooperating at all with the divorce (which I now want of course). So now I'm filling out the papers and paying for my own divorce... that's really some twisted stuff right there. See? He's not a good person. Please help because the suicidal thoughts are stronger than ever. I tried going to a psychiatrist to get on meds again and he said he wouldn't prescribe me anything for at least a few weeks.... I've been on at least 10 bipolar meds and he's making me wait with vivid suicidal thoughts... first, do no harm? Can anyone help me please?
  2. Basically what the title says. Also, how old we you at the time. Obviously looking for responses from teenager years more than anything.
  3. So my niece came by unannounced to say hello. No big deal except for the monumental bruising I left on my arm just below the elbow to about half way down the forearm. I have finger nail scraped up and down my arm and the bruise is huge and deep. She looked overly concerned at me and asked what the heck happened. She said it looks like I was bleeding under the skin, which is kind of did. (its better now) So I thought of the best scenario I could and lied. She did not really buy it. I could see fear and worry in her face. Now I feel ashamed and stupid. It is no secret to my family that I am a screwed up ball of crazy and I self harmed back in the day, they do not know that I have put down the knife for more blunt trauma pain that I administer to most of my body that is covered. The look of disappointment got to me, now I desire to cut again. I am at a loss. If I am cutting, does that always lead to deeper thoughts?... I am already struggling with something darker than just bruising myself but I do not want to lean towards using a knife.
  4. Am I alright?

    Self-harm, again, not for along time, but again yesterday..... So now my arm is bruised and my thumb nail is a bit askew and burns. Tried to dig out the sensations running through my veins. Is that not life you feel, coming and going, through this vein? Yes. but also the death that is living it. It also courses through me, paining me from the inside, deeper than any cut I could carve into me, unless I dig deep enough. Then I let out all the hurt. I won't make it a beautiful elaboration, because I could, the romance of doing such things carries me into some weird happy state. But no, not today, not here..... Guilty beyond the scope of fair trial, I hang on the judgments, that wrap tightly around my neck, dangling while others point with accusations and mockery. They all do it, you will do it too. They all do it.... Shame beyond repair, I am that which is guilty, that which is tainted, deeper roots have no other living thing, not even the core of the Earth can compare to how tightly entwined my wretchedness is with my whole being. I am not just fundamentally flawed, I am that which is foundational to the understanding. Flaws are just what you see, flawed is how I exist. Unescapable, unless I escape life. Then it will end, but those damned pieces everywhere, who will have to pick them up? No whispering, no forms, no other demons but my own. This time I am utterly alone. All those who would stand against me have lost interest in my stumbling, and those who stand with me do so with timid heels, and fleeing toes, ready to tip-toe around me and be as far from the aftermath as possible. I hate the sound of pitter patters of shoeless toes, wrapping themselves with cloaks of sincerity when truly they would rather be tip-toeing out the door, somewhere better suited for them, somewhere safe from my storms, away from the doubts. Away from me. Is this truly the struggle? All that there is? A constant struggle against chains no one else can see or touch? A movie played a thousand times with no plot or even interesting characters? The soundtrack is dull, and there was no talent in the writing of this movie. It was cast with only one character, the dialogue makes no sense. What the fuck are we watching anyway? Your life..... And this mirror? The audience.... Ah, there goes that, stop talking to yourself, you fucking nutt job, I hate you. Look at your arms, holes and scares, look at that face, it really is on the wrong person, have never trusted those eyes. Fuck you. I need something, the meds do not work. I swear they only make me willing to comply to commands. Their commands. Endlessly this goes, dammit you did not need to purchase this ticket, if only the conductor would let me off, I do not like this roller coaster any more..... I want to get off......permanently.
  5. I Feel Like A Fool (TW)

    Trigger Warning I'm not sure what this blog is about. I'm not even sure which side I'm leaning towards or standing on. I don't know shit right now. I guess I should start with the facts, and then move onto the bullshit called feelings (if they can even be identified): Last night, I went out drinking with my SO and some of our friends. Very fun, had a great time, played Cards Against Humanity. Got Taco Bell AND Steak 'n' Shake for my drunken munchies. But I've been having nightmares lately. I'm not sure what it means, I'm not even sure if its related; but something (unbeknownst to me) has been obviously bothering me. It hasn't really revealed itself or shown any clues in my conscious life, so I'm truly unaware at what it is that's been gnawing at me. It is my life so I suppose it could be anything. But let's get to the point. Last night, when my SO wasn't paying attention, I took my pocket knife to my wrist. Not intensely, not even exactly focused like usual. Not even overboard like usual. Usually, it's a controlled environment in which I completely and utterly lose myself and seconds later am looking down at dozens of cut-controlled injuries, usually fairly bloody. This time was oddly different. It was controlled, yes, I controlled to draw blood, yes. But only 5 times. So why do I feel like a fool? A foolish reason. It's a joke really, and I'm not even sure why it's bothering me: they aren't deep enough. Not that I'm suicidal, that's never been the intention of my self-injury (although I suppose suicidal ideation has reared its ugly head a lot in my life, it's remarkably unrelated to cutting, which is more an attempt at control and managing pain). Back to the point, I guess I'm evading myself now. The cuts. The cuts themselves. They bother me. Not that they're there, not that they exist. The fact that they're little bitch cuts that look like I lightly scraped a safety pin against my skin. Definitely not the impression of my cuts when I was doing them. I thought I went deep, I saw the blood seep up, pool, and fall away. And it was incredibly therapeutic, cathartic. Let me be clear here: I have not self-injured in a very long time. And to me, that means a year, a year and a half. That was my period of "sobriety". I have my fair share of scars. And I'm proud that I haven't done it in so long. I honestly don't know what came over me. Like I said, the reason totally escapes me. As far as I know, I've been in a decent mood. Better than usual. Maybe not as far in life as I'd like to be, but I've come a long, long way. So why? God. Why oh why do I feel this way? Why am I ashamed at the lesser severity of my self injury? Is it because I've failed, and I hadn't even dug that deep? Is it because I thought it was so much worst last night, only to wake up to measly scratches? Breaking my so-called sobriety for a *5* measly scrapes? And as much as I hate to say it, it compels me to self-harm again. To give it purpose. To give it meaning. To not be such a little bitch. To not feel such like a fool. Dear god, what is wrong with me?
  6. May be Triggering for some - not not explicit. Hi All, I've been cutting since I was 12, was diagnosed with Bipolar II when I was 15; which seems to explain why - I've never really figured it out myself. I've had long periods of recovery, and I really thought I had it cracked this time. I was wrong. Last night I relapsed. I'm going to keep working on getting better, and not let this get me down or put me off finding healthier solutions, the usual spiel, but in the meantime I have to deal with the fallout, and I think I need some support with that. My family knows about my history with SI, and how I've been good for a while - but we don't tend to talk about it much, it's an uncomfortable subject after all. Since I'm home from uni and staying with them right now, I'm struggling with whether or not to come clean. I didn't want to upset them, and am fairly sure this is not going to be indicative of a serious relapse, so I wasn't going to mention anything. Then my aunt invited us to go swimming with herself and my cousins - worst luck! Fairly sure I could lie my way out of it, which would be less stressful option for all; but also sets a precedence I've been trying to avoid. On the other hand, piling familial stress on top of my current abundance of crazy seems like a recipe for disaster. Any thoughts? Lillian.
  7. I am sorry this is so long. I know this is probably blog-land territory, but I also wanted some feedback on this issue. I know different fonts and sizes can be off-putting, but I wanted to differentiate between what I wrote yesterday and how I am currently feeling today (wrote a post but changed mind, saved as word document instead). I am also curious if anyone else has experienced PMDD to this extent, what has helped (beyond the traditional treatments-- SSRIs, BC pills, diet and exercise regulation, etc... which I've tried and which I do currently except the BC pills-- and even some less conventional treatments-- mood stabilizers, antipsychotics). I am also wondering if anyone has ever required hospitalization due to PMDD or even if they require regular repeated hospitalization during PMDD times. Has anyone done ECT for the PMDD mood-symptoms? This is a "snapshot" of a typical day in the life of my PMDD, at its worst (like the 3 days before my period, though I am progressively symptomatic in about the 10 days before my period). This is what I wrote yesterday: (assume trigger warnings everywhere... I cannot get the emoticons to come up) "I have had some recent life changes and triggers, and my PTSD symptoms are now through the roof. I am also having a lot of paranoid thoughts about my boyfriend not being interested in me anymore and people just hating me in general. I feel disgusting and ashamed. I am shaking and have accidentally knocked my beverage over 3x today at work due to my jittery-ness. I am having constant intrusive thoughts of self-harm, then dissociating a lot, and then engaging in some self-harm quite impulsively (in an attempt to "snap out of it" though I feel like some part of me thinks I deserve it). I am having thoughts/images of attempting suicide, but I don't actually want to die. It is a couple days before my period. I have PMDD, and the ONLY times in which I feel depressed to this caliber (or suicidal at all) is right before my period (i.e. the 10 days before my period, escalating into quasi-suicidality and self-harm in the couple days before my period. The onset of my period generally brings instant relief and complete cessation of my depression. Not to be too gross, but I can often tell I've gotten my period before even "checking myself in the bathroom," just based on how relieved I feel, my drastic improvement in mood, and the physical and psychological tension leaving my body. PTSD symptoms make my PMDD worse, and being premenstrual makes my PTSD worse. I don't believe I have depression separately from PMDD and from what's triggered by PTSD. I have a therapist, and I am on a slew of meds as noted in my signature. I have been on a slew of other meds and various combinations. Medications are minimally helpful to me anyway, it seems. I have tried BC pills, various SSRIs at various doses, various AAPs, and various ACs/mood stabilizers. I have not found anything that helps at all with the the PMDD (in fact, the Lamictal seems to make it worse). And I have only had minimal med response with regard to PTSD. I self-harmed at work today, rather impulsively (hit/punched self in face and head repeatedly, burned self with hot coffee on purpose). That is the only way in which I self-harm-- not planned but rather as a knee-jerk response to a trigger. I also really want to OD on on the PRN Vistaril I have in my purse. I am also having urges/images (have NEVER acted on this whatsoever) of hurting others in a non-lethal way when my symptoms are agitated by interpersonal interaction-- like wanting to throw things at people, hit people, dump hot beverages on people-- pretty much the stuff I do to myself but directed at others). I have had to be fairly up front about my issues at work... due to symptoms (like this) occurring at work in the past. (I work as a therapist in an addiction treatment facility so my boss is at least somewhat understanding of MI stuff). I told my supervisor about it (well, the self-harm shortly after it happened-- the pill impulses didn't come until a couple hours later). I was fairly certain he'd tell me to go to the ER but instead focused on ways I can be functional in other ways at work today (aside from seeing clients). I think that's because it looks bad (on him AND me) with how much time I've been out due to symptoms in the past and because I really don't have any more accrued time off to take. If I even step foot into an ER with my present symptoms, I believe they would admit me. However, the cycle of my past hospitalizations (3 in total) goes like this... I present in the couple days before my period with symptoms like above, they admit me, and then I get my period while IP and feel instantly better. However, the staff doesn't necessarily believe that I could be instantly better and think that I am pretending to be better so I can leave and kill myself or something. Then, after a couple days in, I actually get worse PTSD-wise (due other patients' behavior triggering me, due to the hospital reminding me of being trapped at work because its similar to the work I do, due to being invalidated/not believed by staff, due to confinement in and of itself.) And I don't know if I am ACTUALLY suicidal or if I just fear becoming suicidal. It's kind of hard to explain, and sometimes when I am like this, I can't tell the difference. It's like I am paranoid of becoming suicidal (though I haven't attempted suicide since age 15, which is half of my life span). I really wish I could just quarantine myself until I get my period so that I am not exposed to additional stressors (like just about any stress whatsoever, like having to file something in a chart that I can't find, or even mis-perceived stress-- like me reading into a slight grimace on someone's face and assuming they hate me and I'm the most annoying human being on the planet. Also, this quarantine would help so that I don't risk damaging my interpersonal relationships due to my behavior or risk losing my job further. (Of course, I feel like my job is at risk due to my absences, but I feel it's less at risk than me losing control and accidentally self-harming in front of a client, like I have actually done in front of a co-worker and in front of a supervisor, on two separate occasions.) During this time, I would take my PRNs and distract myself with mindless activity (TV, internet, chores as I can handle it, gentle yoga as I can handle it). But what I really wish is that I could take something or do something to induce my period at will, so that the unmanageable/out-of-control aspect would go away and it would no longer severe interfere with my functioning." OK, so I wrote all of that yesterday. I went home from work at about 11:30 and cancelled my 3pm tdoc appointment for yesterday. I know that was really stupid considering my level of distress, but my level of distress was so high that I was having difficulty verbalizing it while in the midst of it without it escalating my distress to point of becoming unsafe., This was just our 3rd session, and I didn't want her to mis-read my symptoms or take action based on something that is transient and temporary (like admit me to IP when the symptoms are going to go away soon...and honestly my motivations in avoiding IP are also largely financial). (Plus, I presented in that state at a previous therapists' office, and that therapist was completely invalidating, saying I was using my PMDD symptoms as an "excuse" to not work on my PTSD that day. I stormed out rather than do something violent to myself or throw something. I also presented like that early in my relationship with pdoc and she was also somewhat un-empathetic, stating, "Is this the way the rest of our interactions are gonna go?" to which I said, "No, but it's possible we may have more interactions like this if I happen to see you the day before my period.") So, is being hospitalized and/or quarantining myself in the couple days before my period really a sustainable option? I do not have the funds for that (no sick time at work to be missing work, high hospital deductible, living paycheck to paycheck as I just moved out of my abusive parents' household). But I don't know what the lesser of the evils are, and I have yet to find treatment that works. I don't feel that way today as I did yesterday (I am still in a crappy mood but not hurting myself), but I also called out today because I feared having symptoms at work (we have a state audit today, and the last thing anyone needs is for me to self-harm or act out in front of the state mental health department). I have a pdoc appointment tomorrow and HOPEFULLY I will get my period before then so I can have a rational discussion with her. In any event, I am printing this out and showing her (and will show to tdoc next week at our session). It just really sucks to truly not be in control of my behavior/thoughts/moods for a few days and feel like an alien creature has hijacked my body. Thanks for reading.
  8. Well today was a shit day to put it lightly. Now I hope I don't sound like a whinny overly emotional girl. I just want to vent. I really don't care who reads this or if no one reads this at all. I just need a way to get my emotions out in words. My mom has one of those steel safes with a combination. She keeps my medication for depression and anxiety, along with some razors in there. For the past couple of days I've been trying to crack the lock and figure out the combination with no luck. This kind of behavior drives my mom nuts. She'll go of into a rage and call me a fat narcissistic conveying bitch. She always surprises me with new insults to call me that she's made up on the fly. I just can't take it anymore. She's been Especially emotional after her boyfriend of 5 months dumped her. Well today all that pint up anger burst out of her and she slapped me hard across the face after a long argument. This was really nothing new but she usually never hit so hard. I just stood there with my hand on my face shocked. She then told me that I was a mistake and that she should of taken my fathers advice and got me aborded that was the last straw. The Desire to stop living was so great that I ran to my shower and took a [sharp] that I had been hiding for a while [description of activities]. When I was all done my thighs didn't even look like thighs anymore.they just looked like a mangled mess. It doesn't even hurt. I've desensitized myself to pain. I just feel stinging.
  9. Down Up Down

    I'm supposed to be sleeping. But I keep going over last night and today. I guess I feel the need to chart my progress or lack thereof. Another day I'll talk about my semi-successful party day experience. Today is not that day. I think I've mentioned my SO's volcanic temper. If not, well, I just did. I know I've talked about his paranoia. Well, it got the better of him last night. Backing up... my landlords got a new tenant in the apartment next door. Its their smarmy ne'er do well son. You know the type- former high school sports star still trying to make it as a pro, when he just doesn't have the talent. He's tall enough and just barely good looking enough to think he's a ladies man. I loathe the way he looks at me. He got into trouble in his first set of college years, spent some time in Europe playing his sport, and is now back from another country to try going back to college. I've had numerous problems with these landlords, mainly because I used to know them and like them, through my religious institution. But the male half is an asshole hiding behind a personable veneer. I didn't learn that fact until I moved in. I still have pleasant memories of time spent in study with his wife, which makes things very difficult when their shady business occurs. He's said very rude, untoward, and untrue things about me. I cannot wait til I'm in a position to move!! My SO's paranoia has increased due to the new neighbor. Anyway, there in one mailbox for us, so when something arrived for son, I took it over to him. He opened the door, looming over me, and I could see mother behind him, smiling at me. They wanted me to let him piggy back off of my internet. I felt cornered and kind of freaked out. My mind went blank and I couldn't think of an excuse to say no. I gave them the code, just knowing my SO would be pissed, but feeling like I had no option out. And he WAS pissed when I told him. Oh was he angry.... And I felt so incredibly stupid for giving the guy access to my internet when I didn't want to. I'm really rather pathetic at standing up for myself and saying no to things I don't want. I've gotten better, mostly thanks to leaving my ex, having to stand up to his mother, and now having a strong willed SO to teach me. But I clearly have a long ways to go. My guy and I were on Skype and he was freaking the hell out... and my offspring were in the room. I was losing it too, crying and raising my voice at him now and then. Ugh... just the kind of thing I've tried to avoid having my offspring see. I don't like him nor myself when we're like that. I get disgustingly weepy, ultra defensive, and grovelling. Shitty combo. He gets condescending and mean. The upside is that he also gets over things quickly. Once I figured out that I can change my password via the net (I own my modem so I can't just call the internet provider to have them change it), he started to calm down. And then he felt really bad that my offspring had witnessed this outburst. He called them over and apologized to them. He told them he was 10% angry with me, but 90% angry at these people for using me- again. He later admitted to me he was/is still super suspicious about the guy, at which point I started crying all over again and said I will just have to move and I don't care if its good timing or not. He relented and said not to do that. He tried to reassure me that he was not angry with me, stayed up with me on camera for a long time trying to be normal so I'd feel better. Eventually we agreed to go to bed. At that point, I couldn't hold it together anymore and gave in to discipline. Its a funny thing, trying to use a belt and not let the noise wake anyone. I was so worried that the slapping sound would be heard through the walls since its not summer and the offspring don't have fans going anymore. After awhile, I switched to fists. I didn't know I could hit hard enough to start to bruise my own knuckles. I stopped everything before bruising would be too bad, so he might not see tomorrow when we hang out. I don't feel satisfied that I did enough though. I wanted to keep going, but thankfully for once wasn't feeling compelled to keep on. Today though, I wish I had. It was a depressing first 3/4 of the day. I went back to sleep after seeing the offspring to school, but kept getting damn phone calls waking me up. Eventually I got up, said sorry on IM to my love for being such a failure and an idiot, and then tried to accomplish positive things. I went to yoga (wow do I need to get back into this habit- I'm SO stiff). I went shopping for organizational items at the Dollar Tree. I took the offspring to the library. I was SOOO miserable. Even the beautifully sweet reply from my guy refuting my statements about myself were not enough to ease my troubled heart. And then while I was out, I met a lovely lady I know from years back. I see her now and then, and she is the epitome of sweet grace. She asked how things were, about the job situation. I gave her an update (non-existent job prospects) and she talked about having faith in the midst of uncertainty. About having hope for better days. She said she'd pray for me and gave me a warm hug. And after I left, I got a call offering me an interview for a full time position, not too far from me. JUST the thing I needed. God/Karma, whatever you ascribe to... I needed that good thing at that point. And my man was so pleased for me. He is always super supportive of my efforts to better myself. And wouldn't you know it? My mood turned around- for about 6 hrs. Now that I'm alone again, thoughts have darkened. I feel like such a loser. I can't ever quite shake the belief that eventually, my guy will get tired of me, of my failures, of my stupidity. I try so hard to be a good person, to be a good mom and a good GF. But I'm always doing stupid shit that just points out my inadequacies. And someday, he will realize that he is just better off without me. It doesn't seem to matter how many times he tells me otherwise, deep down I feel he's wrong. Someday, he'll see that he'd be able to find someone who's so much more.... well, more everything. Sometimes when I'm disciplining myself, I look myself in the eyes and tell myself these things. And that I'd better get used to this pain because when he leaves, this is all I will feel. Life is pain. The crystalline glory days make it bearable- if you have enough of them to offset the obsidian dismal days. I need to stop or I'll just keep musing and spewing. Heaven help anyone who actually reads my endless drivel. Sorry.
  10. Cat's Out.....

    Well..... no hiding it now. In yet another upset, I accidentally let slip that I self-harm. I was so upset and frustrated with being accused of infidelity AGAIN, and was trying to defend myself by saying how awful I felt cheating is.... and ended up saying that while I could never hurt him that way, I would hurt myself instead. Needless to say, he was upset. He made me promise to never do it again, or he would leave me. And I know he would. The upside (I guess you can call it that, we'll see) is that while trying to defend my actions, I pointed out that he hates to see me upset, hates to see me cry and leaves me alone until I stop... So I have no one to talk to about things that upset me. He promised he wouldn't do that and he made me promise that I'd come to him when I'm feeling overwhelmed (even if its about him). When he first demanded that I stop, I said "you can't take away my coping mechanism!" He pointed out that it would be far healthier for me to use any of the old ones- writing poetry, journaling, etc. Anyway, while I was mortified that I'd let the secret slip and terrified he'd leave me, it was gratifying to hear him saying that we're supposed to be a partnership and that I need to come to him when I need help, that I can't shoulder the burden alone. I have tried before to tell him how difficult it is for me to bear his fears and accusations regarding my fidelity, how all the things I do to ease his mind take a toll on me (especially since I can't anticipate every damn thing that might set his fears off). Maybe now he finally heard me, understood how deep the problem is. He did shoulder some of the responsibility and acknowledged that he's let his fears take over too much, he's allowed it to rule our lives, and that its slowly eating away at our relationship. I think he sees that his issues exacerbate mine. We're no longer helpmates to each other's problems. I know I've become an enabler to him. And by not insisting he pay attention to MY problems, created another. I just promised myself when I left my ex, that I would never shut off my emotions like that again. Doing that was the only reason I went so long without hurting myself in an unhealthy environment (I should have left sooner). Then they burst out and started to overwhelm me. When I left to get healthy, I thought I'd resolved all of this. I certainly didn't expect to wake up the self-harm again. I should point out, it reared its ugly head way before I met my SO. It was already in play... but when we fell in love, I thought it would go away. Silly me. Anyway, we talked about how it would be good to go to counselling. We can't afford it at the moment, but knowing he's willing/wanting to go together is beneficial. So.... I may be here more, venting, in one form or another. I wonder if anyone actually opened my file in my last entry. It contained poetry, bummer poetry. Maybe next time, I'll take the time to type it out (not sure why it wouldn't copy and paste into the blog, but whatever). No point in putting in poetry if no one reads it lol. So.... its all out there now. We'll see what happens.
  11. Is going to be tough. I can feel it. I don't know what to do... Nothing is working.
  12. *just... one big trigger warning, sorry*

    How can you tell when you aren't safe anymore? I almost bought self-harm implements yesterday, but Walgreens didn't have the kind I wanted. Then there was too much traffic in the direction of CVS. Tried my local grocery store today, but they didn't have anything at all. Would I have bought them? Did I just want to see them? Might I even have been scared off? The problem with having both OCD and depression is that I can't tell if I actually want to harm myself. I don't know how to figure out which is reality, so I keep pushing the plan further, slowly. Last time I was depressed, the self-harm thoughts were OCD. This time I'm having urges. Or am I? I feel like I'm caught in a dream. Reality keeps shifting. Keep in mind that I haven't self-harmed in 11 years. This is a huge deal for me. But I feel so damn apathetic. Impassive. I'm going to talk this over with my therapist today. I've got people keeping an eye on me, most of the time. And I'm pretty sure I have the insight still to go to the ER if I need to.
  13. graduate school and disabilities (tw)

    I mostly failed to eat dinner, but I ate breakfast today (protein shake) and lunch (miso soup and seaweed salad). Most of it I had to choke down, but I think I almost enjoyed the salad towards the end. I managed to go to work this morning. It was just only two hours, but the commute was long and it was hard to focus. Even so, I can apparently still teach geometry when depressed. Good to know some of my braincells are still working. Now I'm back in bed. I need to go on a 20-30 minute walk today to fulfill my behavioral activation homework, but I'm going to nap first. Before that I'm going to blog, which for me feels like mental behavioral activation. Classes start in a few weeks. This feels completely fucking impossible. Even worse than feeling like I don't know if I can do it, I can't figure out why I would want to. Nothing makes sense in my world right now. My fall classes are going to be especially challenging. Difficult and weird professors, topics that are foundational but not very interesting to me. I've considered registering with the disability office, but I'm not sure there is a point. I have no exams, and I should be able to negotiate due dates with professors. I'm also worried that my department will find out and I'll have trouble finding a job at the end of this. Does anyone have any experience with disability offices at universities, especially as a graduate student? Is it worth it? Will they even count bipolar and OCD as a disabilities? Is this the sort of thing that stays on your record? Trigger warning for this next part (self-harm, suicidal ideation) During therapy yesterday I described how I want to harm myself. My therapist told me that if I followed through with my plan I would not only be hospitalized but would also fall under the intrusive eye of the university, which would mandate time off and IOP care at their facility of choice. My response: "that sounds like a pain in the ass." Yet still I almost bought razors today. My therapist told me this to dissuade me, but all it did was shift my thoughts to suicidal ideation instead. If I'm going to ruin my career, what's the point of making sure I survive? I'm not in imminent danger of carrying out my plan, but the longer it sits there the more inevitable it feels.
  14. last day

    This is probably the only chance I'll have to blog, so here I am bright and early. I've got one final, full day of intensive family time, then tomorrow E and I head back home. E woke up early worrying about various things, and because of this I woke up early too. I don't want to be awake yet, though. I don't know how to fill my time or deal with my thoughts for more hours. I just want to sleep this depression off and wake up feeling like myself. I couldn't assuage E's anxieties, either. She has far more to worry about than I do, but I'm the one who can't pull it together. We're visiting my grandparents today. I'm very close to my grandfather, but we don't see each other much anymore because I live so far away. He takes care of my grandmother, who has advanced Alzheimer's. It's such a devastating illness. I feel guilty that I'm not around to help. After visiting them, it's back to my parents. They want to take us out on their boat, which will be nice, but no chances to escape. I slept a lot of yesterday. Woke up 8am but went back to sleep until 10am. Nap 5-7pm. Sleep at 10pm. It still felt like too little sleep. My self-harm ideation has turned into actually looking up information. Doing so scared me off somewhat, fortunately, but also made it feel more inevitable. I don't think I'm anywhere near acting on this, but these are scary steps to take. I dreamt about it, too.
  15. depressed *tw*

    I'm depressed. That's all there is to it. I've felt better a couple of times in the past month or so, but I keep landing in a lower and lower mood. The engagement party went well yesterday. I did absolutely nothing to set up, but I played my role as host sufficiently well. By the end, though, I couldn't force myself to smile for one more picture. I used up everything I had. I escaped long before everyone left and fell asleep. Today I woke up at 10am. Normal for me is 6-7am. I hung out with my fiancee's (E) family all day and helped them clean up. They're lovely people and they already feel like family, but even so I just wanted to escape escape escape. I'm finally doing that right now. I had to tell E point blank that I was anxious and depressed and need alone time. I can only be up here for so long, though, since other family members are coming over later. *TW* here for self-harm and bulimia My delusions/obsessions with being evil have subsided again, but they've been replaced by a big gaping hold of exhaustion and anhedonia. I won't be shocked if they come back, though. My self-harm obsession has only grown. I think about it for hours at least every day. It's gone from pure fantasy to weighing the pros and cons. Is it worth potentially needing surgery or disabling my arm? Is it worth accidentally killing myself? Somehow, the pain I'll cause others isn't factoring in. I'm a horrible person. I ate a huge amount of food today and then tried to make myself throw up. I haven't done that in over a decade. Didn't work, in any case. I'm going to take a nap. I've been trying to respond to blog posts but sometimes I can't think of anything to say. I'm always reading along.
  16. insight (TW)

    I'm going to put a trigger warning here. I'm not sure how triggering my post really is, but I want to be safe. Is it possible to think your way out of a lack of insight/perspective? I'm currently experiencing depression following a mild, minor, can't emphasize how not a big of a deal it was sub-manic week. I can tell I'm depressed because I want to sleep more, want to binge eat, and am not interested in anything. These things are making it difficult to get through the day, but I'm functional by most people's standards (not mine). The problem is that I'm obsessed at the moment with self-harming. Well, actually I'm obsessed with a very specific and dangerous act that I feel compelled to perform. I think about it constantly. All day. I clawed up my arms during class today without really realizing it, trying to distract myself. I can't tell if it's an intrusive OCD thought that's taking advantage of my depression or if I'm actually in danger of doing this. My entire life is curling around this alternate reality where this act is possible or already performed. Not having harmed myself in this way feels like I am missing a limb. I want to make my body right. I realize how embedded I have become in this fantasy, but I can't think my way out of it because I can't remember what it's like to not be in it. Does this even make any sense? In any case, I am seeing my therapist on Thursday and intend to explain to her what is going on. I'm scared. On another topic: I've been reading the blogs and I see a lot of pain and a lot of strength. Keep on fighting, everyone.
  17. daily recap

    Edit: this section is too personal, sorry. Will leave the rest. -- Anyway, enough of that. Quick daily recap. Today I tutored in the morning. A bunny got stuck in a hockey net in my student's backyard, and it took ages for his father to get it free. It has a rope burn on its neck and I hope it's okay. Afterwards I could not help myself from going to Walgreens to look at SH implements (did not buy). Came home, wrote an essay for Arabic class on Lucy Stone. My mood is better, but SH obsessions are not. I have company coming over later and it's hot as hell in my apartment. She doesn't know about my scars, but today might be a good day to fill her in. I don't know if I can do long sleeves in this heat. Happy Sunday everyone. Hope you're all well.
  18. desperation **TW for self-harm**

    This morning I decided to add something positive to my blog post today, so here it is: carpooled with my bestie, who bought me fantastic coffee from the fancy bakery around the block. I have wonderful people in my life. As for the rest of my day: Is "desperate" a mood? My mood right now is desperate. Agitated. Maybe I'm experiencing akathisia? I cannot sit still. Cannot. It's almost painful. My body-centered symmetry obsessions are out of control. They occupy my mind almost constantly. I can't control my tics. My whole body feels out of place. I can't concentrate. I almost got up and left in the middle of class today. Instead I took 3x as much clonazepam (still within acceptable range... I just usually take very small doses) as I normally do and zoned out. **TW for self-harm below** I'm exhausted. I feel grotesque. Apologies, this post is a real downer. Thanks for listening (reading, I guess).
  19. Hi, my name is Amy Kaukiainen and I’m completing a fourth year honours project at the University of Queensland as part of the requirements for the Bachelor of Psychological Science program. The topic of my project focuses on the effects that using Internet message and discussion boards may have on self-injury. I have recruited several participants via a student participation scheme at the University of Queensland but in order for my questionnaire to reach as many people as possible I am now beginning to approach discussion boards and social media pages dedicated to self-injury. The survey is very quick and is completely anonymous. It is also possible to exit the study at any time. At the end of the questionnaire we recommend online free published resources which may be helpful. If you are interested in being apart of this research please press the link below, which will take you to the beginning of the survey. Again the website is secure and totally anonymous. Thank you in advance.
  20. My biggest drawback is my poor stress-response. When I get stressed, my ability to think and react appropriately flies away. I become ridiculously forgetful, and my social anxiety issues go through the roof. The idea of leaving the house or talking to other humans makes my skin crawl, so that if I have to force myself to do it, like at work, I end up dissociating and letting the girls handle it… And while they mean well, none of them are exactly well-versed in dealing with humans either. Then, if I perceive the issue that is causing the stress to be something insurmountable, it drives me instantly down into depression, self-harm, and suicidal thoughts. I don’t think I’ve ever been quite as aware of this process until right now. I’ve had more good moods than bad ones lately, and they’ve lasted longer than they have in more than a year, too. I took this to mean that I’m getting close to being back on the “normal” side of the cycle again. Until I got an email on Friday from my landlord’s lawyer that simply read: “I am afraid time has run out. I will be filing at sheriff on Monday." That’s tomorrow. I’ve already had an eviction hearing, and my landlord was granted the right to evict me. But they told me they would let me stay to give me time to get my insurance company to pay out what they owe me, and if I could make up the back rent they wouldn’t evict. Now, five months behind in rent, my time has run out, and all I can do about it is sit here on this bed and not move. Intrusive thoughts of self-harm are hammering away at my brain, but every time I manage to push one away, two take its place. I want to react. I want to take action. I want to go to my landlord and beg him for more time. But I want to get drunk. I want to cut. I want to die. There are two alters who support the self-harm idea, and two who don’t. Unfortunately, the two who don’t aren’t exactly galvanizing to do anything productive about our situation either, and of the two who support self-harm, one wants me dead. I’m not sure how this day is going to play out.
  21. when you SI regularly, how do you keep from SI'ing while intoxicated or "messed up" (jebus, I hate that term)? we all know alcohol -- or other drugs, whatever they may be -- may cause a person to lose their sense of intelligence, reluctance, balance, and even general awareness. so how do you consume whatever and not self-injure? ...or do you just not? have you stopped "using" because your SI got too terrible while doing so?? (also, if this belongs in the Substance Abuse group, please move it there. it's just for me tonight, it's the that SI is the heavier topic. so for me, it belongs here.)
  22. So Much For Feeling Good

    I knew it wouldn't last. I have come to expect that my good days only last so long, and that they come and go in frequency. I could have a good couple of days, or only a good couple of hours. Its inevitable. And when the good ends, my world feels like its crashing down around me. There is no middle ground. Sometimes its triggered by my own moods, and sometimes, like today, by other people. I mentioned in my last post that my BF has paranoia issues. They're pretty bad sometimes. Its a very sad thing, but he has been cheated on by every woman he's ever had a serious relationship with.... so now his default setting is to automatically think I am cheating on him. Any time there is any kind of change in my schedule, his first thought is that I am off meeting someone. I can't ever do anything out of the ordinary, spontaneously. I'm not a spontaneous person really, so its usually not a problem. To alleviate his paranoia, and to alleviate my severe need to feel paid attention to, we rely heavily on technology. We use IM to cam chat, and I send pic texts of where I am and what I am doing. The trouble is that this is many times not enough for him. Case in point: my desire to attend a yoga class for the first time today. This paranoia is compounded by the fact that we both frequented a swinger's website when we met. So he knows I've been a sexually active person with men, women, couples. So was he. We have played together as a couple, but we're rather picky, so its been few and far between. But he has a tendency to think that if we'd been more active with men, he'd know that I could separate the act from the feelings... but our choosiness has not led that to happen. So when things like this yoga class arise, he thinks its an excuse for me to go meet someone. I'd like to say here that I am a VERY loyal, trustworthy person and I have never EVER cheated on anyone! Our relationship is precious to me. My fidelity to the person I am with is not, nor has ever been, something I had to work at, because I am not that kind of person. I simply am a faithful person. But none of that matters when he is having a panic attack. And because I have anxiety issues myself, I completely understand that it doesn't matter to him. The problem is... I also have depression and worthiness issues. Add to that my current stressful worklife situation. So anytime he gets worked up about me, I start spiraling down the hole. Fast. I did my best to cover the bases in reassurance for him, showing him the gym's class schedule, telling him I'd skip it this time if he wanted to wait til he could attend with me, etc. He was nervous but manageable and agreed it would be good for me. This morning on IM, he seemed fine... and foolishly, I didn't offer up any extra reassurances. That was a big mistake. He got upset and left IM. I still had to deal with my offspring leaving for school, so I tried my best to hold in the tears. I failed a bit. I was awash with feelings of failure. How could I be so stupid to think that he was ok with this? After all these years, I should know better! Mix in my despair at his inability to trust me and it was a recipe for disaster. He returned to IM and we started to try to deal with it. I tried to explain. He tried to explain. But I had to take an offspring to school, so we didn't get far. I held it together til I was alone in the car. But despair flooded me, and I bawled all the way home. Knowing how he is, how could I be such an idiot?? And then my anxieties kicked in further: what if this is the last straw for him? Will he finally leave me? Will I now be faced with losing the love of my life? The only person who has ever tried to know and understand and accept the real me? I got home and made a beeline for my bedroom and my belt. "Remember to reassure him" became my disciplinary mantra. I cried harder thinking about how much I despise this part of myself, and the fact that it inevitably makes me feel better. After about 5 or 10 min, I returned to my computer and to him. He told me how, while I was gone, he'd gone for a short walk and felt contrite for what he'd said, ashamed for how he'd let his paranoia get the best of him again. He feels terrible that he's ruined my morning. I'd been nervous about going to a group class anyway, and now he's made it worse. I still don't want to go, but I promised him that I would use this "hiccup" as an opportunity for growth. A means of pushing myself outside of my comfort zone. Because I really REALLY don't want to go now. I'm dressed and ready to face the Stepford wives of my town. I think.
  23. I suck at compartmentalizing but I'll try to here--because I can write a book (and likely will once my son's legal issues are resolved). My son has Aspergers and ADHD/Impulsivity. A friend of his began cutting when my son was @11 or so . My son began then. I wasn't sure if it was imitation, trying to find acceptance because he's never had more than 1 friend at a time and social engagement is a major problem for him since he was @5. Partly because people don't understand his quirkiness and his autistic reactions to stuff and our culture trains kids to run to cops for every last thing that seems "odd" to them. He was bullied a lot and, because he's a boy, was blamed for either being the bully himself or for "being a whimp" and "not standing up to bullies." Great way to confuse the hell out of any kid let alone an Aspie. But I also knew then he'd been through a lot of trauma as a kid. Public school was an unrelenting nightmare through 5th grade and we switched to an online/in-person school where he could get individualized education and the flexibility he needed. We've had lots of visits from law enforcement, only one of which was by an officer who was calm and professional and has an Aspie daughter so he knew was happening and didn't create chaos like the others had in the past. When he began cutting @ 11, I wondered what it was. I tried to remain calm and was pragmatic: remove the instruments then he can't cut (boy was I an idiot). He handed me my missing X-acto knife and my blades from my art supply box. Then he used the kitchen knives, scissors, the utility knives from my tools, edges of paper, paper clips, a machete, stuff he found along the side of the road, screw drivers. I tried not to be emotional in front of him. I couldn't keep up with his ability to find and use things. I installed a lock on the kitchen knives but the landlord fined me for "damaging" her cabinets. Whatever, I paid the fine and didn't remove the lock. I couldn't afford a giant safe to lock all my tools, all the paper and office supplies, etc. inside; still can't. But after a while there were no more marks so I thought it was done. It seemed to be. then he started seeing this girl. She seemed very sweet. He was happy, he cleaned his room, he did his schoolwork so he could go see her, he bathed. But later we found out--through a whole sordid mess with her psycho fundie father who threatened his life before I knew what was going on and had to hire a lawyer to protect him from this asshole--she was a cutter. He had tried to help her stop. So for being in love with a girl and trying to help he's been blamed and victimized by the system. Plus the trauma from the girl's sick father. So now he's in isolation for legal reasons... and he's back to cutting. I found out yesterday when I got the always dreaded "phone call" from his school. He used social media without our knowledge somehow and some girls he liked saw a pic of the new cuts, freaked out, told their guidance counselor at their school they feared he was suicidal (he wasn't) who called our principal. I had to call the lawyer and blabbity blah. More money to protect him from people's hysterics and drama. I was pretty upset. I din't have to say anything; he's a sensitive kid and picks up on other's vibe with uncanny depth. He told me via a note he hand wrote last night telling me what he needed and what was going on. He wanted a different therapist and his pdoc referred us to some (all NOT on our insurance). He wants to "talk" using a note pad and to only talk to someone else. The atty says he can't talk about certain things... I can't explain that to him and he needs help right the fuck now not later when the legal shit's resolved. I never imagined in my wildest nightmares that I would have to parent any of this. I'm angry, with the system, with fundie Xtians, and especially with myself--I mean, I HAD to have caused this somehow. I know he got all my fucked up MI genes (my fam is loaded with Aspies, ADDs and BPs, her's has one BP and she blames me constantly for ruining her kids, yay). I've been the SAHP for seventeen years. I can't imagine i did a sufficient job of it. I know I haven't. He said in his note not to freak out about his cutting. I'm trying not to. Especially in front of him. But I don't know what to do. I don't get it. This is one more thing on a shitpile of things he has to deal with, why would he want to add this into the mix? I know I'm supposed to get it. I'm supposed to be a man and just carry it and not be emotional and not feel about anything and just keep everything and everyone together. Well, I've always sucked at that. That's why my marriage is shit. All I know is I have to help him and I don't know how. And I don't know how to process and sort it out inside my own overwhelmed brain and heart... I used to hold him and hug him a lot when he was younger. I know he resents that I don't hug him. I cannot do it. If I do I'll fucking fall completely apart. My dad was cold and angry with me all the time. He was analytical and fundie-judgmental and I was the of-the-devil artistic boy who was emotional and had Tourettes (Gods curse for my dad marrying my non-fundie liberal mother). I know how much it hurts to have a father like that. I don't want to be that way with my son. Never have wanted that. But I can't do it. It's like the connection point that'll just break me ad then what? Everyone relies on me to get things done (and gets to hear from her how I don't help, seriously?!). I don't know how much longer I can. I have to. But if things settle down, I'm out. A person can only take so much for so long. [Mods: Water had a great & helpful thread and it's specific to her situation so I'm doing this separately. Am I doing this correctly?]
  24. I relapsed a couple days ago, had a not very satisfying session with my therapist yesterday, and also dealing with work-related stress. I'm trying not to go back to the land of "Just Two More So It's Five." I understand that this forum is for getting better, so I feel a little terrible that I don't exactly see SI as something I need to necessarily quit. I know it's not healthy, I know that, but regardless of all my scars it doesn't happen very often. Like it's just something that tends to happen on really bad days. Sometimes it doesn't even happen on really bad days. Anyway, whatever. I just feel kind of sucky. I want to stop talking because I'm starting to feel like I'm just making everything up. That's usually how it starts, "Do it so it's real." So. Okay.
  25. travis bickle

    I watched [i]Taxi Driver [/i]recently and was kind of stunned at how much I identified with the character's longing for a "real life", for the sort of flat affect...when I lived in the city I felt like that, like the world was an egg I ought to crack open. I had some similar delusions about "saving" people from their vices. I lived in a really shitty neighborhood for a long time. I often got angry at the way people treated each other on the streets there.