I've written before about how I was misdiagnosed as bipolar for a few decades, and the therapies and various prescription medicines never helped me. In fact, they nearly killed me.
In my last year on the meds, I got lithium toxicity, and was rushed to a trauma center a hundred miles from home, and spent a week in ICU. That was the autumn of 2021, and I am still recovering now in February 2023.
Yesterday I saw my third psychiatrist in a row who told me I had never been bipoloar, but I am Autistic. This time he put it all on paper, and entered it into my medical records. I guess that means it's official. Or maybe 'I' am official? Nah. I'm still just me.
I never had an inkling that I might be Autistic before sometime last summer, when I read a story in The Mighty by someone who found out accidentally that she was Autistic while she was having one of her children tested and assessed. When she described her life and her challenges, she sounded to me like she was describing my own life.
From that point onward, I started reading everything that I could get my hands on about the Autism Spectrum.
Then there were the internet tests, the books with tests, and finally talking to doctors and to Autistics.
Eventually, I was convinced beyond any reason of a doubt that I myself was, and am Autistic. Thereafter, I brought it up with my psychiatrist, and it took off from there.
That brings me back to yesterday, and the third psychiatrist to agree, and who added it into my medical record.
Now if I can get my General Practitioner to remove the bipolar label from my record there, I will feel like I can finally relax a little.
I don't have a problem with bipolar in itself. I just have a major problem with being misdiagnosed for decades and spending the bulk of my money on therapy and prescriptions that kept me physically exhausted and in a heavy mental fog for decades, and didn't help me in any way. I feel like the majority of my life was wasted.
So to have the label removed from my records is removing a constant painful reminder of all the life that I missed in my youth and middle age.
I am going to spend the rest of my years as a happy, grateful Autistic old dude. Peace be with you all.
#Autistic #actuallyautistic #audhd #ADHD #Autism #ComplexPosttraumaticStressDisorder #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #AutismAcceptance #Stimming #Dysgraphia #dyscalcula #pathologicaldemandavoidance #PDA #AutisticInertia #AutisticBurnout
#EFD #ExecutiveFunctionDisorder #executivedysfunction #RejectionSensitiveDysphoria #RSD
#ReactiveAttachmentDisorder #rad #MajorDepressiveDisorder #MDD #Dysthymia #Specialinterest
#Hyperfocus #hypervigilant #SensoryOverstimulation #SensoryIssues #SensoryPain
If calling someone out or responding in anger to those who were rude, toxic, or neglectful in your life caused the ’relationship’ (if you shall call it that) to end, was it really worth having them in your life to begin with?
Just because someone plasters a fake smile in your presence, may have generously gave material items in the past, or even shared personal time and friendship with you…doesn’t mean they are for you today.
Old romanitic relationship are kind of similiar, in that regard.. It’s easy to ‘beat ourselves up’ because we were not ‘perfect enough’ for that other person, friend, family member, romantic partner, or even that ideal job you wanted.
But here this!!!! You are not better than or less than anyone! We are all equal before God or in the presense of this Universe. Sure there is so much that seems like it gets in the way of seeing that clearly, but it’s true!
Pray for those that hurt you. Forgive those who walked away. Move on, and find your new love, friend, family beyond blood, and if your lucky even an entire tribe of folks who love you for you.
Letting go…of “what was” or “what you thought you needed” may be the first step, in entering into the life God predestined for you! Or if you’re atheist, the life scientifically proven to be meant for you. 😉
*selah* rest on that today God Bless!
I don’t know what to do. Five months ago, I started dating a dear friend of mine. We’re both creatives with spiritualities that resonate and a mutual love for exploration. He is an amazing person. We fell in love. But as we got closer, I began to learn that he deals with Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD), and I would experience times where he would lash out at me for feelings he was having that I was not the cause of.
This has been very difficult for me, because I grew up with a family member with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) who used to daily verbally tear me down specifically when she was experiencing RSD. I learned to emotionally regulate for this family member to avoid conflict as a child, and even though I’m an adult now and have healed so much, I caught myself starting to emotionally regulate for my boyfriend to avoid him being upset with me or lashing out.
We’ve talked through this dynamic a lot, and though he’s gotten better at communicating that his feelings are his own, and that they’re not my responsibility to regulate, every time he experiences RSD, my inner child becomes so scared that verbal or emotional abuse will follow—because that was my experience from a young age. We broke up two weeks ago when I opened up about how depressed I was feeling after getting triggered so often within our relationship. Despite all our best efforts to heal and grow beyond our wounds from childhood, the toxic dynamic that started to emerge from our relationship was beginning to hurt my sense of self.
We are separated now and working on healing. He hopes that one day, we may be able to be together again. I hope to be in each other’s lives to whatever degree is healthiest, as I know he does too. I don’t know what to do with this hope to be together with him again. Is it a fool’s hope? I don’t blame my family member for having BPD growing up. That is hard stuff to go through, and she was young and still unaware of how to communicate through it. Simultaneously, I cannot erase the wounds that her periodic verbal and emotional attacks caused. The wounds I have mean that I have a very hard time rationally navigating a relationship with someone with similar tendencies to project his feelings onto me. He does eventually come around and takes responsibility for his own emotions, but by then my trust already feels so hurt. Maybe if I had had a different childhood, I would be strong enough to take on this relationship. After all, I don’t blame him for having RSD either. That is really painful stuff; he is worthy of love in that place, and I see him working hard to heal and learn to communicate healthily even when triggered. But in the end, I am pre-weakened in the areas I would need to be strong in order to love both him and myself well, and with good and healthy boundaries.
Have you ever deeply loved someone who’s mental health struggles were triggering yours and vice versa? Or have you ever loved someone you had to work hard to be healthy with? What did you do? Is it possible or even wise to try to heal together, or is the wisest thing to heal separately, move on, and be with someone whose mental health baggage can better coexist with yours?
This is a very nuanced issue, and all perspectives are welcome! Thank you for taking the time to read this.
#CheckInWithMe #Depression #EmotionalAbuse #RejectionSensitiveDysphoria #ADHD #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder
For people who live with both, the lines between ADHD and bipolar can be blurry.
You find yourself asking questions such as these –
I’m experiencing mood instability, is it:
1️⃣ rejection sensitive dysphoria (ADHD)
2️⃣ a mood shift (bipolar)
I’m experiencing bursts of energy and productiveness, is it:
1️⃣ hyperfocus (ADHD)
2️⃣ mania or hypomania (bipolar)
While there are many more examples, are you able to find the lines between ADHD & bipolar?
#ADHD #BipolarDisorder #Bipolar1Disorder #Bipolar2Disorder #BipolarDepression #Mania #Hypomania #RejectionSensitiveDysphoria
I have trouble letting myself talk with folx in a way that would allow me to get closer to them. I used to be the one everyone wanted to talk to. I listened. Part of why I pursued being a psychologist is because I knew I could do it and hopefully do it well. But that person is the old me, the pre-migraines and chronic illness me.
New me…can’t be relied upon that way. New me barely has enough spoons to manage this wretched excuse of a life where I try to cope with daily pain from a plethora of conditions that basically equal me being cursed af.
Old me and the role I played is so bound up in trauma. I wasn’t naturally born a listener. I earned that title through living with a malignant narcissistic mother. My brain developed in an unhealthy environment, and I have the scars (mentally) to prove it. I was supposed to listen. I was trained. I was forced.
But I survived.
That’s what New Me is still doing - surviving. Dealing with each day as it comes. They are all hard days. But some are less hard than others, and much of my joy comes from brief online interactions with friends that have become family. I comment, I react, I post.
I do long for deeper connections and to try to break through my shyness when it comes to chatting through messages. That social anxiety has always been there, and it stops me from falling back into that role of the listener. I want to be there for others and connect and invest energy into relationships, platonic and romantic. But New Me is scared of losing folx when I can’t maintain that investment due to my health.
I give what I’m able to give - support, sharing, loving, liking, caring. I can be that kind heart that gives you a hug and helps you feel that it’s safe to be who you are. I’m open about my struggles as a way to share more of myself so my friends can know me.
I’m trying to be enough.