This is myself and my ex (we’ll call him D). D and I dated about 2 years ago for about a year and a half (started in 2019). I gave up EVERYTHING for him. I was in a severe mental state, suffering from PPD, PPA, and PTSD as well as untreated Bipolar 2 and ADHD. My ex fiancé (we will call him M) and I had a child in late 2018. We were living with his toxic family, he had total control over my life, I had no job, no license, no real family to go to, he made me completely isolated. Fast forward to early 2019, I met D a long time before that via a “friend” and we stayed in touch minorly over the years. We really started connecting around late 2018. By the time 2019 hit M had given up on me and his family just became more and more toxic. I started meeting up with D in secret. We would just talk, nothing else. But early 2019 I told M I was in love with D, he didn’t even seem to care. In April I ended up going off the deep end, I wanted to kill myself. So I went to the only family I had left and I stayed there for a few days. Over the course of those few days M broke off our engagement, which hurt at first but wasn’t so bad considering we hadn’t loved one another for years but I knew nothing else and was completely dependent on him, so I stayed. I was homeless at that point, I had gotten a job that I worked 18.5 hours a week at and I was spending my nights in D’s car or on his drunk mothers couch which she started charging me $400 a month for. Finally I got an apartment, sorta. M got full legal custody of our son due to my mental state. I was able to take the bus and Uber to my son and work. D would sometimes drive me. Sometime in early 2020 I moved in with D and COVID hit. I couldn’t see my son due to his family having medical issues. My mom was diagnosed with cancer on my birthday and died exactly 2 months later. I was the only one with her when she died. She was at home, I was taking care of her. Giving her meds, changing her diapers, trying to get her to eat. It was horrible and watching her die was traumatic to say the least. We buried her next to her parents and my aunt and I went through her whole apartment. It was so sad and I didn’t know how to handle that. I started going off the deep end again, hurting myself really badly, getting into petty arguments, shutting out work and my son. I ended up in the hospital. In the parking lot D said to me “if you go in there you’ll never get your son back.” I was so numb I didn’t even care. I did my time and got better but as soon as I came home I was depressed again. I packed up my stuff and moved in with a friend for a few months till I got a place of my own. When I came back up here I got back together with D, but he was just using me for sex. He ghosted me after a few months and started seeing someone else. I was heartbroken. After a few months he told me we didn’t work because I had a son and he never wanted to be a parent. I cried. I had never felt a love like I had with D and to this day I still love him. Fast forward to now, D and his girlfriend broke up a few weeks ago. He had rearranged his whole life to be with her, like I somewhat had with him, and now he was lost. He turned to me for comfort. We have a mutual understanding this time that he is solely using me as a crutch till he can figure himself out. But I’m so torn. I still love him but he doesn’t love me. I was so happy with him, I thought, but now I’m not so sure. He’s lost some of his values that we shared. For example: he’s started taking edibles and I and strictly against getting high due to personal reasons. And he used to agree with me on that. He’s cold and detached but then sometimes he seems like the old D I used to know. I don’t want to separate from him again because I want to help him stop hurting, even for a blip. But it’s toxic to me. I know the right answer is to let him go and move on, but I just can’t. I’m not strong enough. I love him and I hate it. #PTSD #Bipolar2Disorder #PostpartumDepression #PostpartumAnxiety #ADHD #ADHDInGirls #toxiclove #toxicrelationship #Abuse
I have never hidden behind masks because I believe speaking openly and candidly can save lives if done with care.
Lately, I’ve been feeling relatively happy- I am truly living my daydream. Yes, I have my medical complications and I have to go to the hospital on Monday for cancer screenings and I’m worried sick.
But I’m trying to stay with a positive attitude and and a grateful heart. I have my dream job, good health care, a good routine, and a solid support system.
Nothing can be 100% all the time and if you keep waiting for forever… forever will never come.
Seize the day. There is no day but today.
I’m proud of how far I’ve come, and yes, I’m scared as hell, but God’s got this.
“Don’t quit your day dream, it ain’t big enough if it doesn’t scare the hell out of you”.
I will be moving to a new continent on my own in a little over a month. Pardon my language but I am absolutely fucking terrified.
I am in my early 20s and I've mainly been focusing on getting my qualification and doing well at my job. I have rented a flat from family since the day I moved out and am within walking distance of my closest relatives.
I only got my bipolar 2 diagnosis a year or so ago and it has been really difficult getting everything under control. With all the change coming up, I have no idea how I will react and whether I would be able to manage. Not only am I scared of moving to a new country on my own, but I am also afraid of my reactions to the move.
Fun thing about having OCD (yes, I am a triple threat - bipolar 2, OCD, GAD), the more stressed you are, the more the compulsions take over. Uncontrollable dark thoughts + fear + complete isolation.... bad combo.
This year is very different because this month I was diagnosed that I have Parkinsonism. One of the symptoms is having balance issues but I’m stubborn and Monday I was out hiking (with my trekker poles) and I fell …hard. I had another fall a month ago. The first one I injured my shoulder but I didn’t go to PT yesterday because I felt light headed and kind of fuzzy and I have had a weird headache continually after the recent fall. It’s different than the headaches I get with the debilitating migraines I have been dealing with from Covid Long Haul. So I fear I may have a concussion. One more health problem, but it will fade. I can handle it…because I share this writing at a time when despite today’s challenges I feel very blessed because I survived so much from dealing with AIDS. PLEASE READ BELOW.
The day before Thanksgiving this year will mark the 35 year anniversary of when I was diagnosed HIV+. Every year when this time arrives I question why I am still here. Although a part of me can celebrate my life and be so thankful every year for having another year, another month, another day still being here, I am also sometimes consumed with guilt … Survivor’s Guilt. “Why me?” Why me in an opposite sense. Not why me… why did I become HV+? But why me … why am I still here and so many others are not? I am part of a small minority who made it through the 80’s when AIDS was considered a death sentence and are still around to talk about it.
Today many people call me a “Long Term Survivor.” They tell me that it is a miracle that I am still alive, and they honor my life and fighting spirit...but in the mid to late eighties I didn’t think of any other title than that of being HIV+. In most people’s eyes or interpretations I “had AIDS.” I had choices to make but none of them projected to the foreseeable future or even held out hope. I just developed a close knit support group of friends and family and then joined a very special group. We were a support group of HIV+ people who came together to listen, share, understand, support and love each other in a way no one outside the group could ever imagine, could ever believe… could even fathom. No one other than us could feel our pain and worry that was so thick you could feel it in the air in the rooms whenever we met.
We talked of our fears: of death, of pain, of hurt and how some of us were dealing with loved ones who did or did not know our plight, did or did not support us. We talked of our community that so many folks in the public could never understand. Those who misunderstood us, misunderstood HIV & AIDS, and harbored fear themselves often ran from us, judged us, judged our current and past actions, judged who we lived with, who we loved with, and later who we were dying with. The MIS-understanding in the public eye was so vast, so strong and so wrong that it made living and fighting off dying with HIV even harder. To say that there was prejudice is an understatement, to say that there was hatred was a sad reality, to say that there was fear was dead on accurate… lots of fear… and most of it fear of the unknown. People partly told themselves what they wanted to hear because there were very little facts. People displayed their fear outwardly or let it fester internally, but we were the human beings living in the bubble, inside the fishbowl.
People assumed we were all gay or drug addicts. These were obviously misconceptions sometimes, but it was so much easier for some people to pigeon hole us so that they didn’t have to include themselves, including the possibility that they too may become HIV+. There were many who even felt that we “deserved” our (possible) death sentence and were callous and cruel beyond explanation, and their feelings often spread. It was easier to fear than to accept, to hate than to love, to judge than to try to understand.
At our meetings we shared horror stories: of families, partners and friends who turned their backs on some of us and completely walked away (in fear, anger, judgment and often just to protect themselves in their minds). We talked of some doctors in the medical field from the military to the public who saw HIV+ patients wearing yellow hazmat suits and operated inside of plastic confines to take care of their patients… out of obvious overblown fear. We talked of hospital rooms with bright neon signs at the doors of our rooms announcing our reality to all who entered – sometimes even family and/or friends who didn’t know of our diagnosis beforehand. We talked about side effects and weakness, and living while we were dying and dying to get over the pain of living. We often were outcasts and misfits if for no other reason than that it was easier to see us that way than to have to absorb the truth… and there was no one accurate truth… there still isn’t to this day.
I am blessed to still be here today. It is easy to question why, and it can be very hard to have to process these reflections. So, the day before Thanksgiving is my anniversary. It is impossible for this holiday to come and go without my being reminded that I was diagnosed that day in 1987… 35 years ago. I later figured out that I contracted the virus in 1985...37 years ago. I am strong and vibrant today and my “numbers” are very solid. My T-cells have risen back up from the very low numbers I had in 1997 and my Viral Load dropped from the highest number the tests could determine down to undetectable 23 years ago and have stayed the same.
Yes, I made some calculated changes as to how I was living my life and yes I have a fighting spirit, but some of it also has to just come down to luck or divine intervention, depending how you see things, which way you believe things. I think I am blessed and the God of my understanding has looked over me. Why? I am not sure. Maybe I will be able to accomplish some things, to give back, to take my experiences and by sharing them make a difference in people’s lives. Or maybe I am just still around because I have been hanging on. Today I am not sure. Today I honestly don’t know if I have to be sure. Today I am alive and in the simplest of terms, every breath is a bonus. Today I continue keeping my commitment to tell my story, to help paint a real picture that may change some viewpoints, to answer any and all questions no matter how personal they are in an attempt to be transparent, honest and true… and today I appreciate the opportunity to do so!
So, in retrospective sadness and current pride, I look forward to this anniversary every year and want to honor the spirits of those friends who I lost from those support groups, to honor those who I never met who shared our path, to honor all those hundreds of thousands of people who died along this path right here in the United States and millions around the world. So many of them became such good friends and I mourn their loss…
Moshe Mark Adler
November 27, 1999
May 24, 2021 edit
UPDATE: In this time of Covid, sadly I recognize death tolls like those from another pandemic: AIDS (with no vaccine even after almost 40 years). I looked them up...the numbers, including current ones, are staggering:
690,000 [500,000–970,000] people died from AIDS-related illnesses in 2019. 75.7 million [55.9 million–100 million] people have become infected with HIV since the start of the epidemic (that we know of). 32.7 million [24.8 million–42.2 million] people have died from AIDS-related illnesses since the start of the epidemic.
#ChronicPain #PeripheralNeuropathy #BackPain #Headache #Migraine #COVID19 #covidlonghaul #Disability #MentalHealth #Depression #BipolarDisorder #Bipolar1Disorder #Bipolar2Disorder #TheMighty #MightyTogether #MightyMinute
This poem I wrote speaks to the constant chaos of trying to understand one’s ever-shifting emotions, and the futile attempts to drown it all out through dangerous or addictive behavior.
chaos, her drug of choice
injected in bruised vain
the highs scorch her
while the lows unfold her
like a delicate, origami crane
I forgot to tell you my health info when I joined, and I think I’m supposed to. Sorry. I also get #ChronicMigraines Im nearly 53. I worked in Human Services, helping other people, prior to not working myself. Now, I enjoy arts and crafts when I’m able and live close to family. Thank you.
We are currently looking for a new Co-Leader for the Multiple Health Challenges group. We have grown quite a bit and just passed 1,500 members. In the past co-leaders have been golden, really helpful for me when I got sick or burnt out and had to step away for a few days. I am looking for someone to welcome new members, comment or respond to most posts or other comments, make new posts to the group every once and a while, and preferably someone who has physical and emotional health challenges so they can best relate to and understand where other members are coming from when they post or comment.
It is important for the group to have two distinctly different voices to support people because people might relate more to one of us. What is a really good situation is if we both respond to the same posts, welcome new members from different perspectives and provide voices for people that are accessible and relatable. There is a commitment needed that you monitor activities on the group regularly and can respond pretty quickly.
Offering your own posts provides more content for the group…and when posts pose a question they keep things moving forward. I can assist and support by offering to look at your new posts for feedback and editing before you post if you would like it, comment on your posts to get the responses going to best support your efforts, help finding memes or images, and support you if we are dealing with someone struggling …. Like sounding suicidal or being manic…and I will check in to make sure you are happy and comfortable!
I look at potential leaders' history of posts and/or comments that have helped and supported others in the past. Willingness to be honest and open about your own health challenges is crucial to best support people. A co-leader works together with me for some new posts and drafting new questions and is concerned about the well being of all members and can empathize with their paths.
You will get access to the Community Leaders group and your name will have a “Group Leader” tab next to it up top on your comments and responses so I think people pay attention especially to your activity and wisdom shared from personal experience. Would you consider joining me on this journey? Let’s have a DM chat to discuss this! Thanks for considering taking on this role!
#Depression #Anxiety #MentalHealth #ChronicPain #Chronicpainwarrior #Disability #BipolarDisorder #BipolarDepression #Bipolar2Disorder #Bipolar1Disorder
#Stigma #ObsessiveCompulsiveDisorder #ADHD #Autism #Dementia #Addiction #AddictionRecovery #Cancer #TraumaticBrainInjury #BrainInjury #LossOfAParent #Grief #SuicideSurvivors #ChronicFatigueSyndrome #DistractMe #HIVAIDS #longtermsurvivor #ChronicIllness #ChronicPain #MightyQuestions #DownSyndrome #IfYouFeelHopeless #Hope #Deafness #neckpain #BackPain #CongestiveHeartFailure #Migraine #COVID19 #PeripheralNeuropathy #LymeDisease #Diabetes #EatingDisorders #Headache #Stroke #help #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #Fibromyalgia #Disability #thankful #grateful #EatingDisorders #CocaineDependence #drugaddict #alcoholic #PTSD #EmotionalHealth #physicalhealth PainAcceptance #Acceptance #relief #Selflove #MightyMinute #MentalHealthHero #TheMighty #RareDisease #MightyTogether
This question was posed someplace else on The Mighty and got great answers with insight, reflection and many coming from a place of wanting or needing. I started saying I would want a great healthy and durable body and stable mental health ….but read somebody else’s response and realized if I had magic powers I could make myself cured of my mental health challenges and grant myself a great new body and then do even more… I got to thinking of what else I could do with magic powers…and thought big like I could eradicate all suffering and diseases and create empty hospitals and bored doctors and of course …World Peace and no war and all people would get along and respect each other… but then thought small like I myself would have no financial worries and with my stable health have a great job I can flourish in with my healthy body and mind…and be able to make more of a difference in the world.
What would you do with magic powers? Or what else would you like to have (think big!)
#MentalHealth #Depression #Anxiety #Disability #PTSD #Selflove #Selfcare #ChronicPain #ChronicIllness #BipolarDisorder #Bipolar2Disorder #Bipolar1Disorder #BipolarDepression #ADHD #ObsessiveCompulsiveDisorder #RareDisease #COVID19 #Migraine #HIVAIDS #longtermsurvivor #Fibromyalgia #IfYouFeelHopeless #Hope #DistractMe #TheMighty #MightyMinute #MightyTogether #mentalhealthwarrior #Addiction #AddictionRecovery #Cancer #ParkinsonsDisease #EssentialTremors