Archive for the ‘anxiety/panic’ Category

…Is the knowing that there is no cure , no medication, nor merely a bandaid to put over my furiously rampant monster of illnesses.

I’ve gotten to this point , slowly but steadily. A bumpy and painful decent.

Despair doesn’t always come across in conversation, but it does sit on the back burner in view.

Reading a memoir of journal entries by a courageous man with borderline personality , addiction issues, and major depression is comforting , yet it also triggers the thought that yes, I may struggle for the rest of my life.

In addition, I have a handful more that I’m lucky enough to call part of me, so I’m definitely a goner. Right ?

I am not one to count my illnesses as if it’s a game or a competition, but I can’t help but think .. “I have double the diagnosis as this poor guy. “How am I still alive? ”

And what for? To shun all my friends only to share seemingly random pictures and blogs?

To create some art that stems from the abstract and unusual thinking of my broken mind ?

Well, I guess for now it’s something.

I’ve begun recording every day-my thoughts, emotions, situations, successes and also failures.

I have a recorder on my phone , plenty of space on both of my cameras to make videos ,two ongoing journals ( one for my mental illnesses, and one to record tarot readings of my own and of other readers )

Is my purpose simply to show that one can survive excruciating agony and still be in awe of a new leaf on a plant I started from seed? Or to deeply enjoy such things as a birds song , or the thriving vegan movement I’ve been cheering for for 3 years ?

There is such a dichotomy to my mind. Such confusion and different choices to make over a seemingly mundane tasks. Like, which side of the table should this plant go on?

My illnesses can seem to melt together and actually become me , speak for me , BE me -or , I can sometimes find a slight hole to peek out from and shine for a moment or two.

But one thing is for sure , I never , ever have a full day of consistent mood , thoughts, or actions. I just don’t grasp what that’s like , sadly.

( later that day..)

As I slammed my door with tears streaming from the echoes of my doctors subtle yet clear voice to use what I have learned to ” cope”, the thoughts of driving into the river , or screaming for help in the middle of a parking lot appeared as if they’d been next in line anyway.

I refuted these impulses and grabbed my go to medicine. “Harm reduction”, I thought to myself , well knowing I was lying .

I came home and shut myself in, turned on my go-to , depressing Radiohead station, and with a haunting familiarity, lay motionless on my bed as if to mimic being in the coffin I already felt that I was in.

But then, almost to my chagrin, I decided to think of how loved ones may perceive this. Probably with worry. No, most definitely.

Dbt decided to come into play without my permission, but I granted it just to see…

Then, my day turned around.

Maybe there is hope. Strategy , a distraction strong enough to grab my spinning emotions and have them spill out until it’s just me and my core feeling. Ready to grasp onto even the tiniest of spoken belief that there is always hope.

All this to say, if one person who you love and loves you -despite what you perceive as your innate ” flaws”, can see through the fog to a beautifully talented , inspiring and not so difficult to be around source of joy , then – maybe there is reason to stick around til the crowds clear and everyone is gone. What’s the harm ?

Having cleansed my overflowing volcano of of a heart with tears attached to many different emotions , I feel at ease. Dare I say , content.

What a phenomenon . Maybe I wouldn’t be so lucky if dealt another’s hand. Okay, that’s enough positivity for one blog.

Remember to send love, and kindness if only through your energy to those who need it. You really never know how much they may be on the edge and that love could be the hand that helps them down.


Note : I will edit this tomorrow, so I apologize to the sticklers for any spelling or grammatical errors.


You know those pivotal moments people talk about that arise in ones life – that moment where everything makes sense , and hope is found?

I believe today is that day for me.

After a brief frustration and halt in my short term intensive psychodynamic therapy with my brilliant psychiatrist- he called me into his office to discuss his conclusions after reviewing the videotapes of my previous 8-9 sessions.

I had mentioned a rather volatile and extremely mentally/emotionally abusive long relationship that I had with a man that I will call Joe.

Joe put me down like it was his job. His attitude towards me was either completely dismissive and punishing , or entirely ( seemingly) loving.
He flipped back and fourth between these two extremes for many years.
He would threaten me, make me feel unwelcome in our home, disregard my depression and physical pain, call me every degrading and insulting name in the book, etc.
I seldom left, but I always came back.

He cheated on me multiple times with the girl that he cheated on with me.
I still took him back.
You see- I grew up resenting my father for being emotionally and physically absent during a rather tough time he was having. I didn’t like the way he talked to my mother , and his anger outbursts left me scared of him. He never hit us, or abused us in any way.

What has been explained to me by my psychiatrist is that I developed an unconscious hate for my father – and sought relationships with emotionally unavailable men my whole life.
I endured their abuse, neglect, and lack of affection as I persisted on getting them to love me completely.
I would punish them, then feel great sadness and regret.
Thus, my bpd behaviours were born and kept alive.

This relationship with ” Joe” was an extension of my relationship with my father. He even looked like him.
The more I buried my sadness about Joe, and the worse he treated me, the more rage I had ,and ultimately suppressed.
Thus began the onset of my physical pain that has no known cause to date.

The only way out of my self defeating , painful existence is the release of my murderous rage towards psychopathic Joe ( my psychiatrist literally dX him that just today), and then the passage of guilt for psychologically wanting to kill my father.

It is so complex , and so upsetting to know that these two men set the path to many many years of self hate and pain.

I am now confident that I understand my complex behaviours, feelings, and need to carry on with this incredible therapy.

The bottom line that I want to share with you all, is to dig deep into your past and consider that today’s suffering CAN be figured out, and healed.
Medications and drugs were never the answer for me, and this discovery only reinforces that notion.
We must trace our suffering to the inner child who is still crying out for help and longing for true emotional closeness.