For the past 20 years, my body has been a prison. It might possibly even go further back, as my mind has been messing with me since childhood. Back then, I didn't know there was a name for what was wrong with me although my first suicidal ideation was at 10 years old. If I'd have known what a DSM book was, I might have had a clue.
Since then, I've been writing and over the years, like most people, I've used my writing as a healing tool. Without it, I wouldn't have survived. I've struggled with some fairly fucked up life situations such as emotional, physical and sexual abuse, childhood neglect, homelessness and trauma. Because of that, I've spent the majority of my life anxious and depressed.
There's something about wanting to die that makes you question, why is it even worth living? Regardless of being a part of a big family, I always felt like an outsider. Alone. So who would miss me? Thankfully, my mother noticed my mental decline and I began therapy at 16. Prozac was my new friend and the words, my thoughts, so jumbled in my mind, suddenly began to grow clearer. I've been saved!
Or have I? Life has many ups and downs and for 40 years, I've managed to survive. I have a support team consisting of a psychiatrist, social worker, other various empathetic doctors and a very small group of friends. They're not always easy to access and I usually like to handle things on my own, but 2020 has seemed to put a pause on our regularly scheduled program. Thanks to COVID-19, everything has changed!
Currently, as with probably the rest of the quarantining world, I've struggled with real bad depression. My soul likes to think this is all a lesson from the universe but in the meantime, my physical body and mind are in peril. As a person with BPD, I have pretty unstable emotions. Sometimes I want to self-harm and will mention that as well as other not so happy topics in this book.
This note serves as a trigger warning. I don't want to mess up anyone else's recovery and hopefully reading my words will help inspire or at least distract some of you who are also hurting inside. We must learn to live in the present moment. We continue to stress about yesterday, today and tomorrow expecting things to change. Yeah, they can change but in my humble opinion, having expectations just leads to misery and disappointment and I just want to be happy. I just want to be...
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Dear Diary: But Seriously, What the Fuck?
Non-FictionI don't blog, just needed a place to vent. Who knows, maybe someone will read it and empathize or sympathize with me. All I know is, we're not alone. No matter how different we look on the outside, we all go through the same bloody bullshit. So this...
