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Rehab is around the corner #Addiction #BPD #Depression #Cancer #Migraine #Isolation

It have been working with my local drug service provider since last September, with the intention of getting the funding to go to residential rehabilitation for my 33 year long addiction to cocaine, and alcohol, which accompanies my drug use.

I received the funding a couple of months ago and am due to go to rehab early next month for six months. This seems like a long time, but 33 years of addiction is also an extremely long time, so I have been told that I will need the full package of care, in order to address my life long addiction issues.

I have managed to tell the majority of my friends and family about what is happening, and they have all been incredibly proud and supportive of what I'm doing.

My daughter was the catalyst for me seeking help in the first place, because my drug use was affecting her mental health adversely, and she had started experiencing anxiety and panic attacks as a result of my continued using.

I am 100% committed to my recovery, and I will do everything and anything I can to ensure I am successful. The cost of the rehab, which is payed for by taxpayers contributions is not something I take lightly. I respect the fact that people have worked hard to allow me this opportunity, and if I wasn't ready for it, or had doubts that I might fail, I would continue working with the drug service until I felt ready to deal with rehab.

I feel extremely grateful, and lucky that I have been offered this opportunity. I realise that there are many people who may have applied for funding to go to residential rehab, but been turned down.

I am fortunate that this was never a question for my particular case, because my addiction, and dual diagnosis of depression and bpd, combined with a past involving sexual abuse, rape, incest, childhood abandonment and a childhood environment in which I was never validated or praised for any of my achievements, are all mitigating factors that led me to seeking drugs as a way of self medicating in order to suppress these painful emotions.

I'm going to a rehab which specialises in focusing on trauma as it's main approach to dealing with addiction. I specifically asked not to go somewhere that uses the 12 step recovery model, because I have been to CA and AA meetings many times before, and never found them that helpful.

So I'm hopeful that this approach will help me to work through my past trauma, connect with the feelings and emotions that I have buried deep inside, and understand myself and the reasons why I have lived my life with an addiction for all of these years.

My drug counsellor told me something that was a bit of an epiphany last week. She said that it's great that I have all the logical and intellectual ability to understand myself and the reasons for my addiction, but I need to go and do the work to connect the emotional aspect of this to the equation. Something that hadn't occurred to me before. It makes perfect sense, and is clearly why I have remained stuck for so long.

I hope to be able to write about my journey during rehab. So please connect with me, as I share my experiences going forward.

Thanks 👍

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Asian American & Pacific Islander Heritage Month

Hello family!!!

This Asian American & Pacific Islander Heritage Month, embrace every dimension of us.

I always try to think about each one of us as a human, before race, or culture, or health issues, or all the other aspects of ourselves. It is not easy many times, of course, because we have a history, our journey, everything we have learned, all we see in media, etc, and that makes us assume something about a person.

I have been an honorary lesbian, an honorary woman, an honorary black woman, an honorary straight person, an honorary trans latine, etc etc, etc

What I've meant with this, is that at many events, conversation tables, literally I've been told I am an honorary guest, that for me, it means been accepted in the family, in the group, in the chat.

It is an honor when a person or a group opens their heart or doubts, or questions to me. For many, it is difficult to start a chat, approach someone, or simply and complicated been ourselves in front of others. So, when I feel accepted, or I see smiles reflecting back to me, or a touch, a hug, a business card, or a WELCOME to this event, especially when the focus is on a particular community, the moment is magical.

I've been at many zooms, or gatherings where I am sometimes the only man, or the only Latino, or the only gay person, etc, etc...and it can be scary, it can be amazing, or complicated, because YES, it's ME/YOU, our body with all the mixing what makes me Jesus Guillen, but also, the way society works, we are REPRESENTING all our parts in front of others who are different ( and of course, this difference at the end means we are EQUAL, but also accepting what makes us unique).

All I'm trying to say is: LET's CELEBRATE THIS MONTH OUR Asian American & Pacific Islander Heritage, friends, allies, collaborators, and simply HUMANITY. As a Mexican, many might not know, that our indigenous background has also possibilities of Asian background. Even what has been known and found, it's that even our indigenous past music was more related to the notes used in Asian music than occidental melodies and sounds. Of course, that's another long conversation because most of it was destroyed, hum, the priests said it was music from the devil.

MORE THAN EVER WE NEED TO BE #Together

But, yes, at this moment, sending love, thanks, and healing energy to all my Asian American & Pacific Islander friends, allies, and in general THE COMMUNITY.

ALWAYS FIGHT FOR EACH OTHER, and for having a representation of the most possible colors of the rainbow at any event, group, and social media.

Anyone who wants to collaborate in a Zoom or an event, I am here. #Pain #Anxiety #Aging #LGBTQI #Isolation #Loneliness #Understanding ALL!

Affectionate me.

#equality #Inclusion #MentalHealth #Race #ethnicgroup #antistigma #againstageism #Hope

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#Isolation #Loneliness #listenening #MentalHealth #Addiction Hello everybody/anybody

Be available today for your people, opening up and being a listening ear to someone who is in a crisis right now can really be the difference and can save lives, just by listening and being available! ##onpoint

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Where do U find support most?

I was raised in a very dysfunctional household growing up. I started a family of my own very young as a result. Beyond my immediate family there’s no one for me to turn to. My mother was the only one understanding of my illnesses but sadly, she passed from metastatic breast cancer a few years back. I just wish I had a close female friend to confide in at the very least. I don’t like to burden my teenage daughters with stuff. They have their art & their studies. #Dysfunction #Trauma #Isolation #Anxiety

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How can I leave my family, or find a “purpose”?

I’m sorry in advance if this post is triggering, or otherwise not allowed.

Let me cut to the point: I believe that I no longer serve a role or a purpose in the daily life I am living. My husband and teenage children have no real use/need for me anymore. They just avoid me, until they want or need something that I can provide. I cannot manage to make/sustain connections with others (immediate or extended family, friends/acquaintances; old or new), and am exceedingly lonely. (I cry every day - which is probably good, since it proves to me that I can feel.) Even the cat, who used to favor my company, has completely gone off me. I am very unfulfilled in my life, and I really don’t see the point in living anymore.

I’ve finally weaned off my antidepressant (psychiatrist knows this and has prescribed a different SSRI which I have not yet started), which did absolutely nothing for me except to “blunt” me. I spent YEARS feeling nothing and watching life go on around me, as if watching a movie. Now I can feel- and it’s anger and resentment for lost and wasted time; for the rejection I feel, among many, many other things. I do have a therapist-good as far as therapists go - who tells me I need to do self-care. I reminded them that I can’t even bring myself to bathe, let alone go on a mini-vacation, spa, retreat etc. That’s a big issue for me as well - I see that I’m deserving of attention as long as I’m paying someone for it.

Intellectually, I know how to begin the “leaving” process…as I’ve told my husband, if I knew where to go, I’d already be long gone. (The dynamics of our relationship are a big part of the problem - though I refuse to blame him or anyone else for what I am going through.) Problem is, I don’t know how or where to go, or if I even want to start all over. I do know that I cannot continue life the way it is and has been for a long time. I almost wish to die in my sleep - that’s all I do anymore is sleep, as I have no energy for anything else- so that I don’t have to make decisions and live in pain anymore.

If you have insights/perspectives to share, I’d appreciate them. But really, I needed to drop this “bomb” somewhere…I have no outlet otherwise. Thank you for reading.

#DebilitatingDepression #si #Isolation #anhedonia

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I just don’t care anymore.

I isolate in our apartment. I care less about my pets but I still take care of them. I don’t care about being tidy anymore yet I force myself to either wash up or shower. I have lost touch with my family. I hate going to the dining room and prefer that my husband bring our bag supper to our room. I am basically waiting to die. #Depression #Isolation #Feelingnumb

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Every Despondent Day

Today is one of those days. You know the kind. The kind where no matter what people say, look, do cheering up is just not happening. Short of someone telling me, I won the lottery. My total take home amount after taxes is 1 billion dollars, yeah, cheering up is not in the cards. I am not sure how many others are out there who have these days. These days you feel trapped. Since my divorce, I have no car, and no official income. I live with my retired parents and unemployed brother.(I am not sure why he doesn't even try to get a job but I am sure something is wrong with his spirit. He has mental issues of his own too. So, I try to cut him some slack.) I've been applying for menial jobs just to have some stream of income, with absolutely no success. Sure, I am halfway through a data analytics course. I have been working on this for 3 months. However, that brings in no income. On days like this I feel like I have climbed halfway up the depression hole, only to discover I am still at the bottom. All of the climbing you did yesterday was around the hole, not upwards. Also, by the way, the hole gets deeper every day. On days like this, my 100 square foot room feels like a glorified prison. I know I need to cry. I know I feel like this because I am exhausted and weary of the daily wear and tear life puts on us but there is no way to activate the catharsis because I officially have no one who "gets it". I have no one who gets me. I just want someone to give me a call, tell me, "Let's go have some fun. Don't worry I will pay." I want to get you out of the house. I want to get you away from the oppressive life you live with older Christian puritanical judgmental parents and family on watch, an annoying brother who will not get off the couch and bleeding clipped wings that long to escape this mind and body. Yeah, it's one of those days you have to wait it out.

#Depression #depressed #lonely #hopeless #MentalHealth #exhausted #weary #stuck #prison #catharsis #Isolation #Judgement #Escape #Needabreak #Fun #betterdays #Divorced #single #unemployed #noincome #livingwithparents #careerchange #financialstress#waitingforbetterdays

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Voyage from the Isle of Shadows

On a remote isle, where the skies often wept and the sun hesitated to shine, lived a soul named Evan. This island was not of the world's vast oceans but of a more ethereal kind, nestled in the depths of Evan's own mind. It was a silent place, where the trees whispered of sorrow and the winds carried the echoes of loneliness.

Evan had not always lived here. Once, the mainland of life had been home, bustling with love, connections, and laughter. But over time, a mist of despair had settled in the mind's landscape, pulling Evan away, slowly, almost imperceptibly, to this secluded island.

The shoreline of this island was a peculiar one. For along its edges, just beyond the misty veil, were shapes and silhouettes of boats of all kinds — large and small, some sturdy, others less so. These were the vessels of rescue — friends who reached out, family who called in concern, therapists who waited with open doors, medications that promised a semblance of relief. Yet, despite their proximity, they seemed an ocean away to Evan.

Days melded into nights, and the island remained constant, a companion of solitude. Evan would walk the same shores, tracing footprints that were washed away by tides of endless thoughts. The island had an uncanny power, a gravity that pulled on the spirit, convincing Evan that the waters were too treacherous, the effort too great, the possibility of leaving a mere mirage.

The island had no mirrors, but if it did, Evan might not have recognized the reflection. The eyes that once held dreams now glimpsed through the veils of apathy, and a smile that once could light up a room now flickered in the dimness of isolation.

Yet, the island was not as impenetrable as it appeared. There were moments, fleeting and fragile, where the mist thinned, and the boats seemed a little closer, a little more real. A message in a bottle from a friend that washed ashore, the memory of a family gathering that brought a ghost of a smile, an article about someone who had been on a similar island and had found their way back to the mainland.

One such day, a different kind of storm brewed on the horizon. It was not one that brought the usual gloom, but rather a storm of defiance against the island's hold. Evan stood on the beach, feeling the first drops of a different kind of rain, a rain that seemed to cleanse rather than to dampen. With a deep breath, drawn from the remnants of a will long buried, Evan took a step toward the water, then another.

It wasn't a smooth voyage. The waters were indeed rough, and doubts were the waves that threatened to capsize the spirit. But the boats were there, and this time, they were not just mirages. Hands reached out, voices called encouragement, and slowly, with many a backward glance, Evan moved toward them.

The journey off the island of depression and isolation is not a tale of grand heroism. It is made of small, everyday acts of courage — the courage to reach out, to answer a call, to take a prescribed pill, to talk to a stranger about what's going on inside. It's a voyage that requires a map drawn in patience and inked with the understanding of those who have sailed these waters before.

Evan's story is not an uncommon one, nor is it finished. The island remains, sometimes just a speck on the horizon, other times looming large. But now there is knowledge, a realization that the boats are there, the waters can be navigated, and the isolation is not a sentence but a moment in a larger journey.

And for anyone who finds themselves on a similar island, know this — your boats are waiting, closer than you think, manned by those who care, ready to embark on the journey with you.

#Depression #Isolation #Loneliness

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