Relationships

This week, I finally received a diagnosis that feels real: akathisia. For over 20 years, I’ve been on psychiatric medications and endured intense reactions, restlessness, pacing, rocking, moving my feet and legs, and an internal fear and terror that never stops. For years, doctors misdiagnosed me, dismissed my symptoms, or even told me I was faking it.

Akathisia is not just a movement disorder. It is life-altering and life-threatening. The physical restlessness is exhausting, but the emotional and internal turmoil is even harder. The fear, panic, and terror build constantly. It has contributed to self-harm, suicide attempts, and feeling like I’m not real or living in a dream-like state. It affects walking, sleep, relationships, work, and overall quality of life.

Finally having a diagnosis is a relief, but it also brings anxiety. I’m afraid to take any medications, worried that even a single pill could trigger the unbearable inner restlessness again. Living with akathisia is like being trapped in your own body and mind, unable to find peace, yet forced to keep moving and survive each day.

I share this because akathisia is more than just movement. It invades every part of life. If you’re struggling with this disorder or similar movement disorders, you are not alone. Your experiences are valid, and speaking out matters.

This was SO cool to realize...(And something I personally need to work on). How can this reframe help your friendships & relationships?
#Addiction #Anorexia #Agoraphobia #Anxiety #ADHD #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #BipolarDepression #MentalHealth #PTSD #Schizophrenia #ChronicFatigueSyndrome #Lupus #CeliacDisease #Grief #SjogrensSyndrome #AutonomicDysfunction

This couple is praying about God’s will for their lives together after reading the Bible. In addition, they are also asking God if the two of them are meant to be parents to a little one. This practice helps them deepen their relationship with each other and The Lord.

We got there over an hour early. We sat in the room maybe 8 minutes. Then they took my vitals. Then we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
My doctor's savannah therapy cat was meowing at our door so pauley went to say hi to him.
Then finally my doctor came in and explained they're very behind. It's been crazy cuz she just got married on Saturday.
We did the short version of catching up. I told her about all of the big medical stuff I have going on. Then I said but none of that is why I'm here. We discussed my scalp and hair loss. I have seborrheic dermatitis and the ketoconazole shampoo isn't working . So she prescribed me a different medication . Im supposed to give it a month and then she wants me to message her with how I'm doing.
I have a lump on my stomach that I've had for a month. I showed her and she was very not happy with it. It's a pocket of infection. She said she could prescribe antibiotics but I told her I'm sick of pills. She has a very strong injection of antibiotics and I said yes please! So the nurse gave me the injection before we left.
My doctor sent refills of my Norco to my pharmacy as well as some other meds. I should be getting some of the meds tomorrow. Except for the januvia. I've been on it for 3 months with no problem. Now they say it requires a PA. They sent it and it got denied. I don't know what to do cuz it was really working. I have to talk to Endo
After the appointment Pauleys mom picked us up and we went to Qdoba. I was a very happy puppy. Now we're at her mom's house just farting around. They're fighting. The only reason they have any relationship is because they both love me. I had to be a referee during lunch.
Im starting to have a migraine. Im tired of their constant fighting. It's been awful for 10+ years. I've been the only reason they still talk .
I found chocolate. Finders keepers.

I used to think opening up was a contract. I thought that if I shared my thoughts, my fears, or my dreams, the person on the other side would automatically stay. But life has a way of proving us wrong. People come and go. And yet, every time I choose to share, there’s something in me that feels lighter, freer, more real.

Vulnerability doesn’t promise permanence. It’s about connection, not control. Psychology explains this better than I ever could. Attachment theory shows that some people, like me, often feel the need to tie closeness to security. I open up, hoping the other person will stay, and when they leave, it hurts in ways that make me question myself. But being human means we crave intimacy. It also means we must accept that no one can stay forever.

There’s a concept called Social Penetration Theory. It talks about layers of intimacy, like peeling an onion. Every secret, every fear shared, brings us closer. But closeness isn’t a promise. I’ve experienced this in friendships and relationships. Sometimes I’ve shared something personal, only for the other person to drift away. And yet, in those moments, the act of sharing itself was valuable. It built connection, even if only for a time.

I’ve realized that vulnerability is courage in action. Brené Brown talks about this too. It’s showing up even when there’s no guarantee of acceptance. It’s being brave enough to say, “This is who I am,” and trusting that the world can handle it. For me, writing poetry or opening up about my emotions is like that. I don’t do it to trap anyone in my life. I do it because it’s authentic and alive.

Opening up can hurt, especially when we expect someone to stay. But expecting permanence is a trap. It sets us up for disappointment and disappointment often turns into avoidance. I’ve caught myself saying, “I’ll never open up again,” after a heartbreak. Yet the truth is, the purpose of opening up isn’t about keeping someone. It’s about living fully and connecting meaningfully in the moment.

So now, I try to embrace vulnerability differently. I share my thoughts, my fears, my joys, knowing that the person on the other side might leave. That’s okay. Every genuine connection teaches me something, even if it doesn’t last forever. It reminds me that life isn’t about possession. It’s about experience. And human experience is richer when we allow ourselves to be seen.

Opening up is a gift. Not a guarantee. It’s a way to honor our own humanity, to show others who we really are, and to allow the rawness of life to enter our hearts. And in that honesty, in that willingness to be seen, there’s a freedom no promise of permanence could ever give.

My Wife and I are 8 days into our European holiday. We are loving our time in beautiful Poland. So often we have to stop and use Google translate to work out what train we should be getting on and what the restaurant menu says.

There have been occasions where we have had no choice but to ask someone for assistance. They have always been willing to help.

Bizarrely, there have been multiple occasions where strangers have asked for help, and miraculously we have been able to assist them. Why us? Back in Australia people would walk past our neighbours house and knock on our door for assistance. In crowded areas people would hone in on us. I wonder if there is a vibe, a sense, that humans emit that communicates that they are open to assist others.

I am always amazed at how much support is available for those of us who struggle with their mental health. Sometimes we might have to hunt for that help but it is there.

The most profound and transformative words we can ever utter are the three words, “I need help”. Please don’t be afraid to ask. You are worthy of assistance!

Some people never seem to be pleased, and I learned that lesson early from my dad. He could be warm one day and cold the next. Some days, I felt like I could do no right.

I learned to adapt myself to his moods. I apologized before I even knew I had done anything wrong. I shrank myself in ways that left me exhausted. I thought if I could just be perfect enough, maybe I could earn his love.

As an adult, I still fall into the same pattern. I try endlessly to get difficult people to treat me well. It could be partners, friends, or coworkers. Childhood taught me that if I tried harder, I could make people love me. But trying harder rarely changes anyone. Their behavior is about them, not me. My brain still whispers that I failed whenever someone does not meet my hope for kindness.

Healing starts with recognizing the pattern. Love does not have to be earned through effort or perfection. Our worth is not tied to changing someone else. Setting boundaries is not punishment. Choosing not to engage with cruelty is not rejection. It is self-care and self-respect.

It is okay to grieve relationships we cannot fix. It is okay to admit that trying to change difficult people was exhausting and fruitless. Most importantly, it is okay to learn to be kind to ourselves in ways we wished someone had been kind to us.

Childhood trauma can make us sensitive and resilient, but it can also leave us chasing approval in ways that no longer serve us. The path forward is not about changing others. It is about believing we are enough as we are.