Loneliness

while solitude is being by yourself and yet feeling serene. - Haemin Sunim

Hi, ☺️

I’ve had a crush on a „friend“ for a bit more than two months.🤦‍♀️ I don’t know how it is in his side but I think there’s nothing and I’m just making movies. 🍿

Those last days he only contacted me through IG. I hate this app.🤬 Everytime I use it it makes me feel bad. I keep comparing myself to people, and I shouldn’t. Today I wrote to him on IG and on Telegram, no answer. I told him I would delete my IG because it’s bad for my mental health, and told him how to join me. Still no answer. 😢

It hurts a lot. I imagined so many things about him, and now I feel like nothing’s going to happen. I need to think less about him but it’s so hard. 😩

It’s my birthday in less than a week, and I also feel really bad about that. I’m afraid of finishing my life alone. And at the same time with BPD it would be hard for me to find someone and not hurt that person. (And being Ace doesn’t help either)

The only good thing is that somehow I feel like my BPD is less “wild” than before. I’ve found a way to start “domesticating “ it. It’s still annoying but I do less bad things.

Sorry for that rather negative post.

Take care 🫂🥰🫂

#BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #BorderlinePersonalityDisorderBPD #Loneliness #Relationships

In this case, taking small baby steps is better than taking large leaps and risking injuring yourself because how will you get to the finishing line? It is often the journey that matters and not the destination, so if you are able to go easy on yourself, then do that because you are not only taking care of yourself, but you are taking care of your younger four-year-old self. Taking care of children requires special delicate care, but why don’t we take care of adults in the same way? We were all young pups at some point who have grown up in the same world, but it seems that by the time we become grown adults, our feelings suddenly stop to matter? To think the young, precious infant that the parents have cuddled every night before bed has been kicked out of the house for being an inconvenience as an adult at the age of 18 is a pretty sad realisation.

While that my barrier is up and strong, it is time to hammer it down and break free from the cage I have created in volume upmy head. I will attempt at beginning talking therapies and let go of the medications because the medication does not solve the issue inside; it doesn’t remove the tumour. Medications act like a plaster to a deep wound; they may help reduce the bleeding, but they will not allow the wound to heal, and to allow it to heal would be to expose it to the air and use the necessary specialised equipment to stitch it back up, and essentially bin the plaster. I am aware that this is the right path moving forward and long- term wise, but it’s having the courage to rip off the old plaster that’s been stuck to your skin.

A quote which I also love is, “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved” It is essentially having the will and the desire to help pick yourself up and climb that ladder because no one else can save you otherwise, and there’s no use in helping someone recover when they do not have the desire to do so. It is like forcing an addict to quit smoking; regardless of how long they spend in rehab, they will still ultimately continue resorting to their addiction because, for many, it is a coping mechanism. Recovering from mental health disorders is often an individualistic path; of course, guidance and support are often needed and appreciated, but the patient must have the mentality to want to get better and to get out. I have been told by a lovely guiding mentor that if you are able to get up and go to work, attend university or simply get out of bed, then a part of you does have a reason to stay, even if it’s very minimal, it is still there because otherwise, you wouldn’t be reading this right now.

I have also begun to draw my emotions, which was a new experiment, and I noticed that most drawings have included me being submerged in the water. I am aware now that most people struggling with depression also feel that they are drowning because it indicates a sense of helplessness and a loss of control. I am hoping that whatever you and I feel, it does not feel like we’re drowning anymore. The difficult part of depression is that there’s no cure, similar to cancer. It creeps up at unexpected times; even when you think you are fully cured, you are never truly cured, hence why doctors dislike the use of being ‘cured’ and say that you are in a state of ‘remission’ once ending cancer treatment to prevent false hope.

So, while we are in that ‘remission’ phase, we could maybe enjoy it as much as we can? Taking it in baby steps, of course. A plant will not survive without its water and its sunshine, so start placing it in a position where it will be happy and don’t forget to water it either, or it will start to wither away. Plants, animals, and humans are all the same species, and we should all be treated with the same kindness. We are all trying our best to stay alive.

I may or may not have come to the end of spilling out my thoughts, but I truly hope that whoever is reading this was able to connect and understand the complexity of mental health. It is not easy to place it in words, but visualising it often creates a clearer image for individuals struggling and understanding depression :)

#Depression #EatingDisorder #Loneliness

The label that I gained from the psychiatrist regarding the anorexia diagnosis is what pretty much led me to where I am now; it’s like a self-fulfilling prophecy. And now that I’ve left the eating disorders team, I have no one to prove that I’m losing weight, therefore no satisfaction. In a way, that helped the voices, and I was able to control Ana; as I said earlier, I am also able to fully let go of her if I truly want to. And so I began releasing the thoughts regarding eating and simply eating however and whenever I wanted, but little did I know that it would lead me to lose more weight. When I was restricting, food was on my mind a lot, which would make me feel more hungry. It led me to this realisation that if I simply continued with the new routine, then it would be a more effective method of losing weight? It was not much about body dysmorphia either; I was pretty satisfied with how my body looked. Rather, it was more about being able to control the numbers on the weight scale. The progress and the results from your actions are shown in a numbered form.

It was when I had an appointment with Kathy, my dietitian, that I decided to make a change; it was rather upsetting for her to see the stage I had arrived at after having monitored my eating habits for the last 3 years. Instead of seeing the numbers go down, what if I made them go up? Technically speaking, for my brain, that should be the same system, no? Both are methods of control, and a part of me knows that due to my fast metabolism, even if I do eat four meals a day, my weight will not change. You could then say it’s a win-win situation. I get to be the ‘thinnest girl in the room’ and continue to eat as much as I could. And even if I resort back to starving myself, my weight would not decline much either.

I am glad to say that I may have let go of Ana and will be on the road to recovery. I feel as though this journey must be taken alone, almost like meditating; directions from others can break the focus, which defeats its purpose.

Now, while I have my anorexia under control, it is time to look and care for my depression. The hard thing about depression is the inability to free yourself from it; it is similar to Stockholm Syndrome. Depression is the captor, and while victims are supposed to attempt to free themselves or at least form some type of resentment, instead, they form an emotional bond with the abuser.

During the days where I do feel hopeful or content, I find myself attempting to bring back the dark stormy cloud because it is the only feeling that I have become familiar with. It provides a level of comfort which I am unable to place into words.

Almost like sitting on a soft couch with fluffy blankets in front of the fireplace, while it is stormy and rainy outside. You feel safe, protected and most importantly you feel warm. Now compare this with being outside on a really sunny day and being really sweaty, while it could provide satisfaction for some, however, most often individuals would prefer the colder and cozier season.

I suppose this may link to how seasonal depression works in some way; the comfort of isolation grows and thrives like bacteria during the cold dark months as we spend more time at home, and as I said earlier, sometimes we invite depression in voluntarily and sometimes we crave it.

The topic of death lingers in the back of my mind like those radios that continue to play the same song over and over again. What if I simply just allowed this van to run me over? Would that kill me, or worse, would that leave me alive but disabled? The idea of not needing to continue with this game of survival is sometimes a desperate feeling. Could I maybe get placed into a coma and remain asleep forever? That way, it doesn’t count as suicide, does it? Because suicide is a sin, and unless I want to go to hell, I can’t commit even though it feels desperate sometimes. I often find myself hoping that someone else could kill me instead, that I get into a terrible accident or that cancer comes back and finishes its job. All of this just to get peace from this dreadful game and go to sleep. Because even sleep nowadays does not provide me with peace whatsoever, the anti-depressants have been overworking my brain with all these tiring dreams, and I’m talking about dreams that reflect exactly what goes on in my brain; they can be extremely triggering, sometimes leaving me awake and speechless.

I am always told to be grateful for the life that I am living with the number of opportunities in front of me, and others have it much worse than I do. I wish I could allow myself to appreciate this life given to me; I really do, because I am held at gunpoint by this demon in my head, and it feels suffocating, hence why the only way out would be to accept defeat and commit suicide.

However, there is also another way out of this dark, soggy cave, and it is to physically pick yourself off the floor and climb the broken ladder to the exit; those who are able to do so, I want to give them a hug because it seems impossible at times. Almost like when you need to get up to go to school or to work, but you are so warm under the covers and getting up would mean being exposed to the cold, so staying in bed often feels like the best option. But staying in bed will have its consequences. Therefore, the most reasonable option is to wake up and pull yourself out of the situation.

At the very moment, I could say I am managing things slightly better; I am able to go and take showers, maybe not as often as I should, but little steps make progress, you know. Sometimes, we do need to give our bodies a bit of a break; it tolerate so much, and it can get exhausted over time, just like an overworked engine, until it is unable to do so and break down. If we think about it, humans are similar to small little bugs; we’re fragile and prone to the dangers of the world. Therefore, giving yourself some time and slowly building good habits can be very beneficial in the long run. It was when I had a hatha yoga class and was lying down during an exercise; my yoga instructor began softly reminding us of the great life Mother Nature has given us, and we could attempt to appreciate everything we have on earth. We are blessed with the ability to, see, hear and feel great things in life, and even if we are struggling with something, everything does eventually come to an end. We can customise our individual characters, from the way we dress and look to how we act and where we live. If you’re unhappy with your current character, then alter it, move to a different country and bring out a new version of yourself, change your name, your hair, and take on a different job. It is, of course, easier said than done, but attempting to view the world from a different perspective helps sometimes; maybe consider the glass half full? And if your glass is empty, then maybe fill it up slowly with different achievements every day, they don’t need to be big; simply getting out of bed can create a large pour into the glass.

To put it in a different perspective, we are all going to die at some point, whether it be today or in 80 years, because everything comes to an end, including negative things. So why not spend the remainder of your life, while you are on earth, to try and discover new things: gain a pet, or make a family? Of course, it is easier said than done, even for me at the moment, but life and your actions won’t matter once you’re dead, so use this life as a free trial before your soul decides on its final destination. Who knows when we will die? Might as well live your life to the fullest; climb that ladder and escape to see what lies within the ground above? It may provide you even more comfort than the dark, soggy cave that you convinced yourself was a safe space.

Run out of characters, part 4 out :)#Depression

#Loneliness #EatingDisorder

I have so many thoughts about this one today for yet another Great Discussion Topic For You To Learn From, And To Remember.

Let’s work through this hard one together with your thoughts, then my thoughts replies.

As we do it everyday right here in This Group💪🦋
👇👇👇👇👇

#MentalHealth #Depression #Anxiety #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #MyalgicEncephalomyelitis #PostTraumaticStressDisorder #PTSD #Trauma #Grief #BipolarDisorder #Selfharm #SuicidalIdeation #SuicidalThoughts #MoodDisorders #ADHD #Suicide #SuicideAttemptSurvivors #Mindfulness #MadeVisible #ChronicIllness #Disability #Agoraphobia #AnorexiaNervosa #EatingDisorders #SocialAnxiety #BingeEatingDisorder #AlopeciaAreata #AutismSpectrumDisorder #Autism #ChronicFatigueSyndrome #Blindness #Relationships #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #FamilyAndFriends #MajorDepressiveDisorder #ChronicPain #Lupus #LymeDisease #PersistentDepressiveDisorder #MDD #ObsessiveCompulsiveDisorder #Loneliness #CrohnsDisease

I wouldn't say I had a rough childhood because it would not be fair to those who have had it much worse than I did. Looking back, it feels like those fuzzy dreams when you wake up confused and unsure of what you were even dreaming about. My childhood feels like that sometimes. I am in my own younger self’s body but with a different soul? What I can say about my childhood, however, is that feelings and emotions were dismissed by my parents while I was growing up. So much so that I have come to the stage where I find it difficult to understand or detect my emotions; I know that I am feeling something, but what is that emotion that I’m feeling? It was almost like I had closed a lid on my feelings and have kept them pushed aside. Maybe that was my coping mechanism? To ignore whatever negative emotion I felt and to move on from the situation. And while it may be a superpower, it can also become a curse. To be told your dear grandma had passed away, the one whom you had such an amazing relationship with, and not be able to feel grief or sadness or even shed a tear is upsetting in itself. It almost made me feel like a robot, a man-made machine without the ability to feel happy or sad.

But is feeling nothing better than feeling everything? To allow myself to feel emotions would mean to accept and feel every emotion that I would experience, whether it be positive or negative, it would also mean to understand the cause of these emotions fully. It would essentially mean having to sit in my bed and ponder, ‘Hmm, what emotion am I feeling today, and why am I crying?’. That in itself seems pathetic and a waste of time because what good is it going to do once I identify these emotions? To answer my own question, none.

I was recommended by my head teacher at 17 to attempt counselling at school; she felt as though my emotions were abnormal. I was unsure what exactly it would entail because what emotions or feelings would I even discuss with the counsellor if I couldn’t find them myself? I found myself feeling a wave of negative emotions as the sessions progressed. She had essentially lifted my lid, which had been keeping my emotions in place and hidden away. Six sessions were deemed enough to have fully broken down the barrier and has left me in the state that I am in right now, sensitive and unable to take control of my emotions. Here is where I introduce my older brother. We had a very love-and-hate relationship. Growing up, he was emotionally absent; we did not necessarily get along. It was only when around the age of 17 that he became more present. I began leaning on him for moral support; he was there when I needed him, especially during the dark winter months. It was strange to know I could rely on someone after growing up to be hyper-independent, and while it was still a new feeling, I felt raw and exposed, with an unprotective shield.

I had spent more and more time with him than with friends; we understood each other emotionally. But this also meant that I was losing more people by distancing myself from them and spending more time at home. This is why it felt like a love-and-hate relationship with him. While he was providing me with a stronger shell, I was essentially isolated from everyone else. He began taking my spark away, and whatever kind of personality I had ultimately began fading away. He began becoming an enemy who played with my emotions instead of protecting them like a brother should.

For quick reference, I do not have an older brother; I am the eldest of two younger siblings: a sister and a brother. The ‘older brother’ in question is depression, and the only way I am able to describe my depression to other individuals is that it feels like an older brother who provides you comfort but will ultimately leave you frail and malnourished.

Now, while my counsellor had helped me feel and discover emotions, it had essentially placed me in a dark, soggy cave with an escape that was out of reach.

I found myself attempting to slowly rebuild my shield and barrier, and glue the broken pieces together. Although I have currently been able to do this, it is still fragile and will break at the slightest touch. Would I rather feel absolutely nothing than everything? Yes, I would, truly.

Depression feels like a tumour; it grows and grows and eats at you slowly. It takes everything away from you till it takes your life. It leaves you powerless, with absolutely no control whatsoever.

Friends, family and colleagues have all spoken to me about this and have said, ‘It will pass’ or that it is only hormones, and I will grow out of it. The issue is that I am 19 now and have a broken barrier. Fixing this barrier is of no use now because I have run out of glue.

I wish I could understand what the direct cause of this miserable illness; could it be underlying childhood trauma? Or could it simply be all the trapped emotions built up over the last 19 years spilling over?

Now, to escape from my dark, soggy cave, I would need to gain the strength to get up and climb out to the exit above and free myself. But what if the dark, soggy cave provides inner peace? Giving up and curling up in the cold ground feels easier than climbing up on the broken ladder to the exit, no?

Freeing myself from depression would ultimately mean having the will and the desire to do so; it is much easier said than done for many. The dangers of depression are the comfort and warmth it gives to us; it often feels like a warm blanket during the cold nights, and it feels quiet.

Beating depression would mean battling the war between my head and my heart. While I am ready to accept my survival in being trapped in the dark, soggy cave, a part of me continues to hold on to the hope of climbing the broken ladder and escaping.

I had cut off all my long term school friends, and isolated myself from my family. Speaking to people became an inconvenience and I had decided that I am better off on my own.

Looking back now, the isolation had turned me into the worst version of myself, the version who does not want to socialise, to perform academically well, or to take care of herself. Because how would I have been able to achieve and perform all these duties when I was stuck ?

Once I had decided with the will from my heart to help myself out, I began taking prescribed medication to sort out the chemical imbalance in my brain. I found myself slowly building up my barrier once again. I was able to quieten down the screams in my head and to gain peace. And while it gave me the ability to work on myself, it placed me back to square one. I was then left feeling empty and without purpose. It had numbed my emotions and made me deprived of positive feelings. It is essentially a loop, isn’t it? You either feel immensely overwhelmed with emotions and depressed, or you feel as though you lack a soul.

The medication became like a poisonous drug; whatever piece I had of my personality had vanished. It felt like I was being brainwashed, and the thoughts were not my own anymore; the thoughts became an enemy and shutting them off became impossible. Being attacked by your own thoughts is a feeling I would not wish on anyone; it leaves you feeling worthless and in despair. And slowly, you start believing the devil in your head, the one who claims that you are a burden and an annoyance to every possible species on this planet. And when you do start to feed into its words, you find yourself self-harming and participating in risky activities, hoping it ends the screams and ends the dreadful feeling.

I have run out of characters, so I'll make a second post :)

#Depression #Loneliness #EatingDisorder