ThisIsMyStory

Join the Conversation on
349 people
0 stories
64 posts
Explore Our Newsletters
What's New in
All
Stories
Posts
Videos
Latest
Trending
Post

Follow the hope line


#ThisIsMyStory Follow the hope line

To all those who are married to chronic pain, and all those who dare to walk in shoes that have lost their soul.��pulsating , prickly pain, like eating humble pie when allergic to pastry or phoning for help when their is no reception .�old, worn, brittle and damp as though the rain never took a vacation, endlessly trying to stay warm in the alps with only a polyester jumper and cotton socks.�The pegs all square, but the holes only round.�Making a coffee with sour milk, as all that was available, expired weeks ago.
�As much as you place your face toward the sunlight the dark clouds enclose you, engulf you and tease you as an orca toils with its prey.
�Hunted, haunted and helpless yet determined and unafraid of Breathlessness. Resilience becomes natural, medical disasters common like a runny nose.
�Debilitating pain is like permanently having a broken bone that is awaiting a cast. Unwell becomes the daily norm, wellness is my worst sick day when having Better health.�Most days I wake in shock still that my body’s permanent impairments may be part of last night nightmares.
�Each week for 6-8 hours twice a week I receive treatments that enable me to perform basic physical functions, similar to babies who depend on loved ones to change their nappy.
�Like grief and loss, pain lingers constantly, at times loud and angry, at times irritating and agonising.�My bank account is empty once essential weekly medical treatments are paid, the poverty line is not just for those on the streets.
�Resourceful, resilient, restricted they see, really a rat trapped in a sewer pipe scavenging scraps of food.
�But there is always an ebb and a flow and the sun will always rise and shine bright even in the darkest of storms.
�So however defensiveness, disempowered and dependent we become on medication and medical specialists know you are heard and acknowledged, loved and valued.
�If I could hold you in my hand I would tell you all it’s ok. Keep swimming, follow the black line and when the rips catch you surrender best you can to the turbulence and know you will find peace and serenity even if you live under airport runway.
�Be still to see the beauty in the flower that grows in the harshest of deserts and the rainbow that is concealed in the storm.
�You are important, you are unique and above all you are loved.let your compass stay north and anchor to water that nourishes and restores.
�You may feel like I, that you walk the sandy path alone, one set of footprints, but know that momentarily something greater than ourselves could carry us, maybe for a second. Enough to take breath and start to rebuild again a fire of hope

Post

Inspiring True Story?

People have told me that this true story's inspiring. All I know for sure is that #ThisIsMyStory . I have a #TraumaticBrainInjury that i got when a car ran over me. I was 19 months old.  This accident put me into a coma that lasted about two months.  I was given little or no chance of ever waking up by the staff at the hospital I was taken to.  I beat the odds then, and I'm still beating the odds now.  I hope this story inspires all of you who read it to always hope, even if what you hope for seems to be impossible.

2 comments
Post

I was happy with his response

So I was running low today. I was in no mood to talk to anyone but my guy texted me up and in an instant he realised that I wasn't feeling great. He asked me if I was feeling good I denied telling I was just tired. But he did not give up there. He did not force me to speak but instead he started speaking about funny moments in the day just so I could feel better. There are people around you to help you all you need to do is just reach out.
#ThisIsMyStory

1 comment
Post

This is my Cyclothymia/mental health story

It's believed I was born with rapid cycling cyclothymia, a rare-ish mood cycling disorder. I started exhibiting symptoms as early as age two, but of course at that age, esp 37 years ago, diagnosing two year olds with rare mental illnesses wasn't really on the radar. I finally got diagnosed after a hospitalization just before my 30th birthdaym and finally got to start on a treatment plan with a therapist I trust (and still see regularly). Since then, I've worked to share my story of my illness, because I know how alone and isolating it can feel, how scary it can be to open up, and I always want people to know that they aren't alone, even when it feels it, and to offer to be that person to lend an ear when someone needs to open up, but is afraid of doing so for fear of judgement/reaction/stigma, or feels like they have nobody to open up to. I still struggle daily, but I feel so grateful to have found a community for support, understanding, and sharing. #ThisIsMyStory

1 comment
Post

#frustration #anger #Sadness #nobodylovesme

When I'm at college I try and stay happy, I laugh and make others laugh. So all my friends have this perspective of me in their brains. They think I'm never sad and that I'm confident enough to second think myself. But actually, I'm not. Sometimes I'm struck by waves of sadness. Because nobody validates me. Nobody understands that I want love and approval. So I just sit back and stay silent. And the funny thing is that none of my friends ever bother to ask the reason for my silence. They just label me moody and carry on with their own lives without lending me any attention. It drives me angry. And then frustrated and then sad. Very sad.
I'm posting here for the first time. It's because I'm totally out of help these days. My best friend doesn't have time for me. I broke up with my boyfriend because he didn't give me enough time and love. I also had fights with all my close friends because I'm extremely annoyed an heartbroken. I just wanted to rant out. Thanks for listening. Much support to y'all out there who suffer from similar problems. Peace! ✌
#ThisIsMyStory

3 comments
Post

#feltbetter #feltworse #blankcanvas

#ThisIsMyStory not posted before so don't know where to start.
Spent my life fitting in being the "clown".
Born with 1 hand. Lost friends through suicide, miss them loads.
Used to have motivation and be driven. Job redundancy then went off the rails and didn't share emotions with family or friends being stubborn. It's caught up with me now I feel empty and stuck in a bubble.
Panic attacks, hating my current situation.
Need a fresh start and new chapter again.
December is tough on every one. I feel happy I still wake up. Even though i don't want to do anything... just getting out ofbed is a struggle but once ive made me bed and making my bed, it still is an achievement... it pushes me to achieve another small task. Etc
Sorry about the essay x

2 comments