Identity

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    The Duality of Bipolar and My Identity

    One thing I remember about my worst depressive episode was the absence of feelings. It was desperation that anything at all would penetrate the dark and bring me to light: that I would again have the ability to feel my grief, to laugh, or even just to cry. Life was a literal abyss of passing time, laying in bed and binging pages on the internet just to distract myself and pass time.

    Social media does a good job capturing a major transition from depression to (hypo)mania. By going back in time, I noticed some features that changed with my episode. I smiled with my teeth and did not feel insecure. I laughed and after so much darkness, I was startled by the sound. I was ambitious in my ideas, excited about where I was going in life.

    This is not to dismiss the way I was spending money or the people I let down. Nor the risk taking or reckless disregard for my health. But this is the nature of things, that these episodes carry consequences as much as blessings.

    What I have been thinking is, who am I amongst all of these things? My switches feel so radical that mixed in with that norm we all have, I have these pressured episodes that pull me in completely opposite directions. Am I confident and ambitious, am I hopeless and insecure? Both of these are inside of me. Is my disorder dictating my self, or am I coming out in my disorder?

    For the longest time, I felt lost in these questions, as if my sense of self disappeared and I didn’t know who I was. Now I know that I am contained in my (hypo)mania, my depression, and the moments in between. My disorder is a fundamental part of my identity, a legitimate force that brings out the best and worst of me. I am my laughter and my emptiness.

    I know that I am not the disorder and the disorder is not me. Really, it is part of the spectrum I exist in and it gives and takes from who I am each time the tide changes. Resistance is the denial of my existence. The answer to my question: I am amongst all of these things, I am in each rise and fall. I was never gone, I just needed to find a way to recognize myself.

    #Bipolar #BipolarDisorder #Identity #Depression #Mania #Hypomania #self

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    It's Soul Crushing

    Just having a not so great night. Feeling down and dark. Just that crushing feeling that this is the way I am. This is who I am. This IS who I am and will always be. My true self is dark. My true self is someone who attempted suicide.

    I'm not like anyone else. Different. I FEEL different. It takes my breath away. It crushes my lungs and my heart. Like I'm not meant for this world.

    I walk around with a mask. But sometimes the mask loses it's grip and has to come off. It's weight lifting and torture at the same time. It's exhausting being the other me. The one who takes 5 meds everyday to "get through". To wear the mask.

    I've always felt different. I've always been different than anyone I've known. Darker. I feel like I have a dark soul.

    I don't know if any of this makes sense to anyone. It's just crushing me tonight and I want to completely break down and I can't.

    Then I think about when I went to the hospital and I think, that's who I am. That's where I belong. How long can I keep the facade up? The meds will eventually stop working, right? When does the voice that tells me to take my life come back?

    I feel a sense of belonging when I think about my darkest times. And also a terrifying feeling all at the same time. I just don't get it.

    People say, this doesn't define you. This isn't WHO you are. This is just part of who you are. You HAVE depression. You HAVE anxiety. But those aren't WHO you are.
    But really, it is. All these things make me who I am. So therefore, I am that. I AM those things. It's in me. I FEEL it. And it's never going to go away, is it? It just hides behind the curtain for a bit. That's all. Then......it's back to hell I go. #Depression #Suicide #SuicideSurvivor #Anxiety #Identity #Addiction

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    Please no hate comments or "cringe" reposts, but I am apart of the otherkin community as nonhuman

    It's true

    It's not in any pessimistic or degrading way, don't
    worry. I am a part of the otherkin/alterhuman
    community. For me, I'm an alien hybrid
    involuntarily. Being called a human makes me
    sad. I mean I get why, it's extremely common in
    our society. It's expected the vast majority of the
    time because a pretty very small even know
    about what it means. Yes, I am aware that I'm in
    a human body and have a humanlike mind. I do
    not act wrongfully inhumane.

    I decided to say this because I am making sure
    that this is a safe space for sure, even for
    someone who identifies as nonhuman like me.
    That and "human" makes me sad, but I'm not
    mad. We face a lot of stigma, being called
    cringey and posted in cringe subreddits back and
    forth, and saying that we can only be a full
    human and that's it. The majority of us coming
    out or just being ourselves, there's a "cringe"
    repost about that. No, I do not experience
    delusions. Also "cringe" is a disgusting word.

    Here’s a link if anyone’s interested ⭐️ alt-h.net/educate/faq.php

    I hope I don’t regret posting this…

    #Alterhuman #otherkin #Identity #IExist #EndTheStigma #Stigma #EDUCATE

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    myself

    my name is lenny and i struggle with profound sadness. i’m an artist who struggled with feeling good enough to be where i want to be and do what i want to do #Depression #creativity #Identity

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    Gender stereotypes can be traumatizing

    Stereotypes about gender are a part of our lives from even before we have been born. Pink for girls, blue for boys. Barbies for girls, trucks for boys. As we get socialized, messages of what makes us "feminine" or "masculine" are foisted upon us from every corner of life and if we don't align with these stereotypes we may feel a deep sense of rejection and insecurity in who we are and how we fit in.

    We Need to Talk About the Intersection of Femininity and Trauma

    Have you ever felt pressured by conventional gender stereotypes? How have these contributed to your trauma? Share your thoughts below.

    #Trauma #PTSD #CPTSD #gender #genderstereotypes #gendernorms #femininity #masculinity #Identity

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    Identity and chronic illnesses #ChronicPain #Identity

    #Fibromyalgia #Lupus #Infertility #COVID19 #Depression #PulmonaryHypertension

    I have not written for a while, the simple reason I had to take a break after writing my book. I landed a bestseller allowing people to step into my journey with fibromyalgia, depression and infertility. The struggle to find out who I am now that I cannot work, and the meaning of life continues to be a daily journey. In 2016 I stopped working and was in severe depression and in excruciating pain. In 2019 I was diagnosed with lupus. By that time, I was so tired of the fight I shrugged my shoulders and cried and went on with life.

    2020 I was in the first group of COVID sufferers. I almost lost my life and the subsequent chest infections and sepsis with 4 admissions in the last 2 years have taken a lot out of me. My lungs were scarred and I have borderline pulmonary hypertension. Accepting living with a limiting diagnosis and reduced mobility has made me quiet. Quiet because I got tired of explaining to anyone what they could not see. I did write the book, did I not!

    Many of us struggle in finding who we are again as the pain rips through our bodies. It is a daily decision. Our responsibilities as husbands, wives, siblings and colleagues weigh heavily against the pain. We diet, we walk, we look for solutions and you find no size fits all. Who you are is your character, it is not your job title and through therapy, we revisited my values.

    As a fibromyalgia and sufferer who suppressed a lot of pain, I learnt to have boundaries and put myself first. I learnt to be self-full (coined by Iyanla Vanzant). It has been a surprise to many. I am lonely, something I had not counted on. My friends have moved on with their lives and even when you get an invite you have to choose between the pain the next day and disappointing people.

    The next big decision I made was not to have children. With the pain, depression and inability to have a child, I chose to not adopt or go for surrogacy. The tradition, of course, was busy challenging me “you know you have to have a child to work for”. My question was, if my pain is 15 on the richter scale and I take opiates, how do you deal with a 2 year old? The grieving of motherhood was difficult and continues to be a companion who turns up at inopportune times triggering a flare.

    I reinvented myself to be a best selling author and I am writing my second book on grief. I have had to fight against the norm of how people did things. Social media did not help the insecurity of not being good enough. I found a lot of people do not understand invisible illnesses and the safeguards we have to ensure to live. It took me 5 years to write my book and I wrote it so that someone who looked like me, a cross-cultural British Kenyan woman would have a reference point. Perhaps I continue to hope that professionals will read the book and understand how we present with pain. The language we use when explaining pain needs to be understood. I have been able to help people in Eastern Africa and America who have struggled with understanding the multi-system diagnosis. Yet I still don't feel I am good enough.

    I have found my passion for creating awareness on mental health and infertility which are a taboo subject in the African community has been worth it. I evolved and became more compassionate and learnt to listen. I now use a walker to help me walk and sometimes I cry because I am an old woman with a young spirit. Then I am reminded who I am and how I stand with the weakest is most important. I think one of the greatest challenges is not being financially independent and is soul destroying, but that is a story for another day.

    Hang in there, the sky may be grey the sunshine will turn up when you least expect it.

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    Are you portraying a fake identity?

    Have you ever stood looking at yourself in a mirror and thought “What am I doing with my life and is this really what I WANT”? If so you are not the only one, I’ve been there myself and they are tough questions to ask. Asking them may even mean giving something or someone up to achieve happiness.

    These questions can become even more prominent when you are dating. When you date the usual questions bounce back and forth. One of the most usually asked is what you do in your spare time or what are your hobbies. If you are anything like me you have hesitated to tell them in case they think it’s boring and then loose interest. What can be even worse is when you suffer from anxiety, you tell them and then feel like they are either judging you or simply saying nice things to be nice.

    If this is something you have experienced then it may be time to ask and answer those questions. But to do this you have be to be completely honest with yourself. Why? Well, if you aren’t comfortable with who you are and what you do with your life, how can you be comfortable expressing and sharing this with a potential partner.

    Believe me I have been there, and it eventually leads to an increase in anxiety levels and a craving for something the other person won’t be able to provide. What I mean by this is that if you do not have anything else in your life you enjoy or working towards you will then expect that one person to full fill all those needs. What a lot of pressure for one person, especially if you have just started dating and ultimately this will lead to disaster. They will constantly feel under pressure, you’ll come across needy, they will pull away. Even worse if you are like me you will blame yourself and second guess everything you did and are doing. Leading into an anxiety spiral where you head feels like scramble egg. Not good or mentally healthy.

    So, to create a bond and relationship with someone you first must be secure in who you are. For me I had to had to go through this process very recently as I felt what I was doing wasn’t fun or exciting enough to other people, so it shouldn’t be those things to me. Well FUCK them!!! I love what I do, and I am good at, with lots of potential to change the world if I continue to work hard. Them, well one day I may hire them to clean my medals, degrees, and toilets whilst they reminisce# the good old days in the pub. The things I can do once I have achieved what I want. The same goes for you.

    What I am trying to say is. If you don’t feel secure in yourself, go out there and work fucking hard until you do. Find hobbies and experiences you are proud to shout about and when you do meet someone not only will you come across more confident in yourself, but you won’t drive them away with neediness and high expectations. Don’t let any once else tell you what you want isn’t good enough, especially people who think they have no time to achieve but watch Love Island every night. Finally remember no one person can meet all one person’s needs and to expect that is a lot of pressure and not healthy.

    #Anxiety #Identity #Dating #selfawarness

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    Still struggling at 50. #Anxiety #PanicAttacks #Identity #SocialAnxiety #relationshipanxiety

    There is no way to keep this quick, but I'll try. I'm 50 and still battling with OCD, ADHD, panic, social and relationship anxiety, constant depression. I could take a conversation with a professional in so many directions in talking about my symptoms, my experiences, etc, to try to "get to the root of it", but it's never simple, and I'm now exhausted. However I HAVE to keep trying, but finding yet another therapist and doctor to trust and open up to is just so overwhelming. My life effectively ended at 17 when my first panic attacks took over, and from that very moment, I knew I'd never be the same. There are certain things I've been unwilling to openly discuss. I've seen many therapists, gotten a lot off my mind over the years (that probably saved my life), I've taken a million different prescriptions, but have never stuck consistently with therapy, never have been as open as I could be, and so have made only enough progress to manage the worst of my symptoms, and now I just exist. I feel I'm looking downhill at the rest of my life, craving my younger days prior to the onset of this horrible condition(s) with an aching and desperate heart to go back in time and experience even a second of peace again. With two daughters now turning into adults, no spouse or family around for support, I have more ongoing responsibilities now and need help now more than ever. I am terrified.

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