#psych is allergic to borderlines

[deluluonmyback]

impulsivity in bpd can be cutting and dyeing your hair, but it’s also frying and destroying your hair to a point where it’s completely ruined and you’re self conscious of it everyday.

impulsivity in bpd can be having an attitude and saying some petty things to people, but it’s also ruining every good friendship and relationship you’ve ever had and you can’t stop yourself from sabotaging everything, so you end up alone in a deep pit.

impulsivity in bpd can be having some drinks, doing dr*gs, or having a lot of meaningless sex. but it’s also relying on drinking and dr*gs so much that you’re completely off your face all time and it ruins your image and every aspect of your life. and it’s also no one wanting a relationship with you because you “sleep around” or “probably have an std”.

impulsivity in bpd can be browsing an fps facebook. but it’s also stalking their every move online and their every step in the real world constantly because you need them so bad. you can’t live without knowing if they’re okay, knowing what they’re doing, knowing if they’re leaving you for someone else, etc.

the list goes on. us borderlines post a lot of shit about bpd, and in my personal case, laughing it off and sharing it to others makes me feel a bit better and i know that it makes others feel less alone knowing that other people are doing the same horrendous shit. but stop romanticising being obsessive, quirky, impulsive, and having an attitude. it’s fucking painful. the emotional aspect is PHYSICALLY painful. watching the world crumble around us because most of us can’t fucking stop ourselves is painful. the withdrawals from substances, s/h, etc because we are so prone to addiction is PAINFUL. i’m all for supporting our fellow borderlines and cluster b peoples, but STOP self diagnosing to be “trendy”. i’m not on about self diagnosing, etc if you’re certain and it means you’re getting the support that you absolutely need. everyone is deserving of help, whether healthcare wants to agree or not, EVERYONE deserves the help they need. but stop trying to make bpd sound fun. being euphoric is fun, the rest of it IS NOT. ITS FUCKING PAINFUL. thank u bye 💕

(ps. i hate making rant posts about this, but seeing people act like bpd is a “fun choice” in life pisses me the fuck off, every day is just pure fucking suffering. the people romanticising and hyping this shit up are the same people who will talk shit about any cluster b who is showing symptoms or having one hell of an episode. but this NEEDS to be out there x)

(edit: the amount of support i’ve had on this is unreal 😭❤️ i tried to word this the best i can but when i have a lot to say it often comes out making no fucking sense at all or something comes off the wrong way. i saw someone reply about the yanderes shit. I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN. i don’t know why the fuck people fetishise it, it makes me feel disgusting to have an fp even if i’m keeping as far away from them as possible. and also the “euphoric is fun”, i still do a lot of embarrassing and over the top shit when i’m euphoric that i regret. but in the moment, the happiness i feel i just embrace now because it’s not been often that i ever get to feel like that. thank you so much for the likes and reblogs, i really hope this post has helped y’all. I LOVE YOU ALL ❤️)

[firespirited]

I've been sick with some sort of fluey thing that sets off migraines all week. Did manage to meet the therapist: she's fantastic, no nonsense, up to date science, specializes in autism in women and trauma from interpersonal abuse. Unfortunately I'm going to need that therapist more than ever.

Mum had no intention of doing group therapy, has no interest in fixing our relationship, she's got this idea that it would somehow be taking sides even though she regularly has long whispered conversations with me about how to deal with a situation with sis. I also really upset her by describing dad as having cluster B personality disorders that made him cruel, she read the first sentence of my psych homework and decided she was out.

Because in her mind cruelty requires intent and dad was just being pre-emptively nasty because he'd had a paranoia where he felt we'd been mean. She's retconned him as bpd??? He didn't get paranoias until I was nearly 20. He wasn't borderline, he was a bully. It was calculated and calm not often spontaneous. He had just as many calm collected bouts of psychological violence as he did rages. And oh odd thing right? he never damaged a relationship with a man or employer even if he resented them privately. He never ever once implied he was suicidal to anyone else when that was his go to move. He had depressions and manias, he was rapid cycling. He also managed to keep the damage to his immediate family (except for that school incident) and constantly quitting jobs. There are times when the cluster B was the real issue and other times when he was just selfish and enjoyed his power over others. I know that's an awful thing to say but I've known a lot of cluster B folks who are trying to not break everything and I knew dad well: he blurred the lines between deliberate long term choices and his pathology. His hostility towards my and mum's existence as ill people was obvious to my doctor and every carer we had. My sister's cptsd is mostly from the damage he did with gossip and how she made herself compliant at home.

I can't say this to mum she's in rose tinted glasses mode about dad. The psych definitely noticed when she said some really weird hurtful stuff to me. I did get very serious that she was not to talk about dad around sis. To not even think about it because it could reset her entire recovery.

I have spent the past 25 days neck deep in bpd type cptsd symptoms, learning every trigger point and rebuilding a relationship with sis where she has no idea that I'm just not sharing secrets and fears. I'm still her rock. She's just not my anchor anymore. We're actually doing pretty well now. I can trace the intense anxieties back to last may when she brought a stray dog home and began obsessing about adopting a cat (she's allergic). I can perform the correct emotions on cue instead of relying on just words. Every time she loses trust I reassure and rebuild. She's been able to open up about what she couldn't stand about 'us' (it's not us, she needs a fully quiet space not just a bedroom in a busy flat) etc.

It's sad because every worst fear I outlined in the psych homework came true over the past few days. I have to hope it's some kind of stress phase. Maybe she's got the same flu thing as me and it's making her feel vulnerable and cranky.

There are very good odds she was super spooked at the idea of therapy, goodness knows she doesn't like talking about feelings. The idea that she might one day have to explain her wild family to someone else terrifies her.

Now that I know she's not ok, I need to keep my distance for a while and build myself up so I can handle sis' next crisis alone.

[esmesong]

Name: Esmeralda Estelle Song

Nicknames: Es, Essy, E

Age: 16

DOB: February 5th

Notable Traits:

✔ persuasive, resourceful, daring

�� manipulative, selfish, controlling

🎀 they say, “you’re a little much for me” 🎀

Height: 5'4

Weight: 116 lbs

Eye color: Dark Brown

Hair color: Black

🎀 "you’re a liability, you’re a little much for me” 🎀

Innocent in appearance, but not at all by nature, Esme Song is what most would describe as a hurricane of a girl. She thrives off of attention, be it negative or positive and will do everything in her power to make sure that she gets it. Oftentimes this includes lying on impulse to fulfill whatever she feels that she needs in the present moment. This tends to be damaging to many of her relationships, but after years of practice she’s become skilled at covering her fibs and finessing her way out of sticky situations. 

🎀 so they pull back, make other plans 🎀

Unlike many of her fellow peers, Esme was born into purely opulent wealth. Growing up, anything she wanted--she got and this gravely contributed to her entitled demeanor. It also made her a bit of a brat when she was younger. However, when she was only ten years old, her mother committed suicide and Esme was the one to find her body. She has never been the same since that day. 

🎀 i understand, i’m a liability 🎀

Esme began taking anxiety medication when she was a freshman; shortly after she was discharged from a psych ward. She is consistently lying to her doctors about just how bad her anxiety is in order to get higher doses so she’s able to sell the drugs around school. She is an erratic thrill-seeker and always lives in the moment. She's confident, knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to manipulate others in order to get it. These antics are rooted in her desperate need for attention, so when things don't go according to her plan, Esme lashes out in manic, psychopathic ways. 

🎀 get you wild, make you leave 🎀

So as previously stated, Esme has a cunning ability to lie -- about anything and everything. She thinks that her life is dull and boring so she’ll tell any fib to make it sound more interesting to others. And normally when she gets caught lying, she’ll immediately play the victim card and make you feel bad for her. It’s a continuous cycle.

🎀 i’m a little much for everyone 🎀

➸ After having one too many outbursts and participating in self-harm behavior, Esme was placed in a psychiatric ward for two weeks where she was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder.

➸ To this day, her father still blames her for what happened to her mother.

➸ She has a restraining order against her for stalking someone.

➸ Esme is allergic to bees.

[jotun-appologist]

Warning

I'm gonna rant about my health conditions and doctors. Usual tmi warnings apply.

Yknow having i think its spelled hidradenitis supperativa? or whatever (that skin disorder I have that makes me have oil gland abscesses and cysts everywhere but especially in skinfolds and chest area and they constantly refill and hurt to the point of disrupting my daily life)

It would be so much easier to deal with if I wasn't allergic to every single adhesive on the face of the earth.

How to you treat constantly erupting skin sores and prevent infection when Band-Aids make your skin break out in a rash that appears like severe burn marks? (Oh yeah, its full on contact dermatitis, just like what happens if I wear nickel jewelry for even an hour!)

And dermatologist won't prescribed things my medicaid, (or even a normal insurance) actually covers. That I can't afford.

I'm sorry I'm not getting a 768$ zit zapper that can't even get prior authorization, let alone covered right away.

Oh Boohoo my cholesterol is high. I don't care, give me the accutane or recommend me for oil gland removal surgery or at least something to make my fits go away so they don't always hurt. Like fuck, I'm just trying to get all my shit together so I can function and try to find a job and this disorder is not only physically agonizing, but its the only thing that I am more disgusted and self loathing over than both my obesity and menstrual complications combined.

Also being able to feel emotions finally (shrink hasn't returned my call but I stopped taking my mood suppressant because it was making me unable to a) feel at all, b) have even a semblance of a sex drive, c) become nauseated, dizzy, and overly fatigued all in the first week.) Means I have sudden extreme depression episode.

Plus I'm pmsing and still getting used to the mireena iud as well and now all the emotion can hit and ahh It feels like my borderline fits before I started anti depressants.

Not to mention, my cymbalta was working just fucking fine at 80mg so I'm mad at the new shrink for halving it all at one. That is something that even in my basic psych classes before I changed my major I was told you don't do.

I think the man might be incompetent.

depressive BorderlinePD plus bipolar 2 (major depression, hypo(less)mania) requires antidepressants mostly.

I really have no need for a mood suppressant but I guess when we went over manic episode symptoms

I forgot to say I normally cope with it it was just really bad before I started seriously trying to get better, which was also back when I only had the borderline and my other DXs but not bp2 yet because it was being tested for.

Which I guess means I no longer have a depression DX because bipolar replaced it?

Idfk

I'm tired I'm moody and I'm over sharing on tumblr and only like 1 person is gonna even see this on a dash anyway.

[betterinthedarkblog]

Diagnostic Criteria

Possible TW: Descriptions of medical trauma; sex; suicidal thoughts; graphic language (asterisked); illness

I have a headache.

Take Tylenol.

I can’t sleep.

Take Xanax.

I throw up a little every time I eat.

Take Nexium.

I have red patches all over my groin. Do I have bed bugs?

You’re allergic to Latex. Take Benadryl.

Now they’re all over my arms.

You’re not allergic to Latex. Take Benadryl.

My back is covered. So are my feet.

You’re not allergic to anything. Take Benadryl.

My lips are swollen.

Here’s an IV. Here are some steroids. Here is an antacid.

I have a cough.

Here’s cough medicine.

I keep having a cough.

Here’s a nose spray.

I am still having a cough.

Maybe it’s anxiety.

If it was anxiety it would have started long ago.

Here’s an inhaler.

Do I have asthma?

No. Does it help your cough?

Maybe. Or maybe it’s the antacid. But the cough gets less worse. I have blood in my stool.

You have hemorrhoids.

The blood’s all over my floor and walls.

You have a GI bleed. Here’s some blood. Infuse.

I’m still bleeding tar.

We’re going to put you to sleep and see what’s going on inside you.

What’s going on inside me?

Arteriovenous malformations.

Pathology differs.

Go to the Yale Clinic for Arteriovenous Malformations.

Pathology differs.

Have them call me.

Pathology does not concur.

Are you bleeding?

Pathology dissents.

Are you bleeding?

No.

It’s just hives. It’s just hemorrhoids. It’s just nodules. It’s just chronic cough. It’s just chronic idiopathic urticaria. It’s just idiopathic chronic gastrointestinal bleeding.

You know what I’m worried about?

What?

Three things. GI Bleeding. GI Bleeding. GI Bleeding.

But my face is numb.

You have no money.

But my arms are tired.

You can have no more of my money.

But my hands are trembling.

It’s just trembles.

But my nose is bleeding.

Just in the discharge.

Just in the discharge. Just in the discharge. I’m not bleeding internally. I’m not choking – am I? Am I? Am I? Am I? Am I? I have no money.

You have no money.

I have no health.

You have perfect health.

I’m coughing again.

You’re never going to bleed again.

Will I re-bleed?

Never.

I’m bleeding again. The tar.

Stop talking to me.

I’ve lost my voice.

Finally.

I’ve lost my words.

Schizophrenia.

No.

Maybe.

No.

No.

Maybe.

No.

Schizophrenia.

No.

Yes. It’s just that. It’s just negative symptoms. It’s just disordered thinking. It’s just personality issues. It’s just unhealthy mental health.

No, it’s not. I wish it were.

Then what is it?

It’s inflammation.

It’s inflammation.

Show me. See? There is no inflammation.

It’s Schizophrenia.

It’s Leaky-Gut.

It’s anxiety.

It’s stress.

It’s not a metaphor.

It’s not a metaphor. It’s mystifying. It’s enigmatic. It’s concerning.

It’s a metaphor.

It is?

It’s double-vision.

That’s seeing what’s not there. That’s a delusion.

No. It’s post-traumatic stress disorder from the I.C.U.

Stop seeking diagnosis.

No

Stop seeking diagnosis.

No

Stop seeking diagnosis.

Okay. Fine.

Better?

Yes. No. Maybe. No.

You’ve lost control.

I have been ill!

But you’re not ill now.

I’m ill now.

It’s anxiety.

Shut up.

It’s anxiety.

Shut up.

I’m not going to sit here and pretend you’re impaired.

Fine, then don’t.

You shouldn’t take any medicine. You’re hyper-sensitive.

I won’t take any medicine.

You should be in an institution.

I should be in an institution.

You should be on the street. You can’t afford an institution.

I can afford an institution.

Not any more, no institution.

My stomach’s hurting me. It’s been a year. It’s been two years. My legs are losing track of themselves. I have cuts up and down my arms from accidents. I’ve become even more clumsy.

Every mistake is an intention.

I’m intent on diagnosis.

That’s sick.

I’m sick.

You’re not sick.

I’m sick.

That’s sick.

I’m fine. Just symptomatic.

But of what?

I’m just a complainer. That’s all I am. I’m a whiner. Stop talking to me. Stop talking to me. Stop talking to me. Cancel my appointment. Cancel my appointment. Cancel my appointment. Stop taking your meds. Stop taking your meds. Stop taking your meds. I have no money. I have no money. I have no money. I need to move. I need to move. I need to move. I’m bleeding.

He says he’s dying.

I’m bleeding.

He says he isn’t bleeding.

I’m the employee of a powerful person.

Give me a piece of your small intestine.

I’m recovering.

Thank you.

I’m no longer the employee of a powerful person. I should leave New York. I should move somewhere else. I should move on from obsessing over illness. Ow. My throat hurts me. My head. I’m nauseous. I can’t sleep.

Tylenol. Klonopin.

I can’t think.

Lithium. Divalproex.

I can’t see.

Lamotrogine. Seroquel.

I can’t hear.

It’s true. You have lost your hearing.

I told you.

You’ve lost your eloquence.

I told you.

When did you lose your confidence?

When I lost my eloquence.

Were your parents like this?

Like what?

Hereditary Hemorrhagic Telangiectasia

What?

Bleeders? Depressives? Bipolars? Borderlines? Narcissists? Sociopaths? Hypochondriacs? Hysterics? Litigious? Fat? Diabetics? Ingrates? Stupid people?

No diagnosis. But everyone else in my family—

You can’t afford to have something.

No, but—

You can’t afford to have anything.

What if—

It won’t.

It does.

It didn’t.

I took a picture.

It’s not in your records.

Let me show it to you.

Doctors won’t see it.

Let me collect them for you.

You are no good for me. Leave me.

Left to my own devices I am no good for me. I’m sorry.

Radio silence.

I’m sorry.

Radio silence.

I’m sorry.

Radio silence.

F--- you

Radio silence

F--- you

Radio silence

I’m going to kill myself

Radio silence

I’m not going to kill myself

Radio silence.

This is not what’s supposed to happen to people. I don’t need to negotiate my illness’s legitimacy. Why am I talking about this with you? I need to move on from you? Help me! What’s wrong with me?

Radio silence

I’m wrong for me

Radio silence

I’m wrong

Silence

Wrong

Silence

Which way should I go?

That’s a lot to cover

What should I do?

Come see me in six months

But I’ve been ill

With what?

Read my records

You have thick records

I haven’t had sex in a year

Secondary panic. Tertiary depression.

To what?

Inflammation

Show me

I’ll puncture you

Hurt me

On Thursday

Hurt me

On Thursday

Hurt me

On Thursday

Heal me

No findings. Nothing to—

Heal me

Nothing to heal.

You hurt me.

I’m a doctor.

It would be unethical.

It never happened.

She hit me.

You’re delusional.  I’m calling psych.

I’m not psychotic.

Okay, you’re not psychotic.

I’m psychotic.

Not really.

I’m psychotic.

Stop taking so much Adderall.

I’m psychotic.

You’re afraid you are.

Hurt me.

Just a pinch.

Hurt me.

May I open you?

Surely.

I may have to open you.

Please do.

I open you.

Heal me.

I totally did.

I’m not healed.

You just don’t realize you are.

Massage me.

Your neck has spasms.

Scope me.

You have no concerns.

Kiss me.

No. You had blood in your stool.

Touch me. 

No. You had blood in your stool.

Love me.

No. You had blood in your stool.

Hit me.

Okay.

Sit on me.

Sure.

Love me.

No. You had—

Love me.

No. You had—

Love me.

Shut up.

Make me.

Want me to?

Slap me.

Okay.

Choke me.

Okay.

Don’t kill me.

I won’t.

Don’t kill me.

You’re alive.

I survived.

You survived.

Heal me.

Heal yourself.

Help me.

You hurt me too bad.

Me Me Me Me

The truth.

I’m shaking.

You’re a mad man

I’m shaking You’re delusional

I’m shaking

You’re illogical

I’m shaking

Call the Paramedics. Wait! Your blood work is fine.

I’m sick.

Says who?

I’m sick.

With what?

I’m sick.

Show me.

I put on a show.

You put on a show. That’s malingering. That’s sick.

No. I’m sick. I’m sick. When will you heal me? I’m sick. I’m sick. When will you solve me?

You’re not that complicated.

I’ve become risk-averse.

Your brain has—

I’m shrinking. Diagnosis?

Stop asking.

Diagnosis?

Who cares.

Diagnosis?

Radio silence.

Stigma!

B.S.

Overshadowing.

You spend too much time with Google.

I care too much about myself. Diagnosis: Narcissism. Diagnosis: Borderline. Dyagnosis: Hysteric. Diagnosis:

No, I don’t think so.

Stop denying me.

Take this.

Hurt me.

Take this.

Hurt me.

Take this.

That works.

Take this.

But that worked.

It isn’t good for you. You have white blood cells in the periphery.

A finding.

False finding.

How do you know?

You’re on steroids. Spare them.

I’m shaking.

Neurosis.

I’m shaking.

Psychosis.

I’m shaking.

Shake it off.

I’m shaking. I’m shaking. I’m shaking.

Stop. Radio silence. Radio silence. Radio silence.

Dig me a hole. Give me no rope. Pretend I dug myself into it.

You dug yourself into it.

Why?

Why doesn’t matter. Don’t ask why.

How?

You’re being nostalgic.

Help me out.

You’re out.

I’m out?

You’re out.

Then why’s it so dark.

Radio silence.

Help.

Radio silence.

Help.

Radio silence.

My brother is crying.

Radio silence.

My mother is crying.

Radio silence.

This whole family is crying. This whole family is fatigued. I’m nauseous. Can I have Zofran?

Sure.

Zofran.

Don’t have it.

But they said they would call it in.

They didn’t.

You didn’t call it in.

I will.

They’re calling it in.

Got it.

Go to the hospital.

But I’m not sick.

Just to be safe.

But you said I was –

Go to the hospital –

I can’t afford it.

People live.

People live.

People live.

And then they die. I don’t want to die.

I know that. Nobody wants to die. Be original.

I want to be well.

You’re well.

I’m tired.

Go to sleep.

I’m tired.

Eat me.

I’m tired.

Drink me.

I’m tired.

You slept in.

I’m tired.

You’re fired.

I’m tired.

You slept.

Help me.

Help me.

Help me.

Help.

I wear my shoes with laces untied.  But I don’t wear chap stick because I don’t mind chapping my lips. I don’t ever remember to take an umbrella with me when it’s raining outside, because I don’t check the weather, and I don’t mind getting wet. I’ve never owned rain boots or galoshes. I don’t mind getting beaten up in bed in the name of love. But I built myself an igloo when it wasn’t even winter; and that feels like a contradiction to me.

[vveightlesss]

September 9, 2014

Exactly 3 years and 12 hours ago, I was admitted to the hospital. I wanted to die. I was in the mental ward for 5 long days. After breaking down in front of the counselors at my university, I felt better until it was time to be admitted to the mental ward. All through the ER I was fine, but it wasn’t until they took me up to this room where they decided if I was a danger to myself and if I needed to stay. There is where I met this girl, she was so much younger than I was. She was I think 14. She suffered from severe anger issues. She hated her parents. She was destructive, I pulled myself together one more time. Enough to speak to her, I tried to console her (like I’m good for doing). I put my problems aside to help this girl out. I spoke to her about my very own anger problems. I told her on how I used to abuse my sister, I would beat the fuck out of her. Just because I was jealous of her, I hated her. But I eventually grew out of that anger. It still lingered because I never got the help that I needed. When me and Tyler would fight, they were the scariest fights. If he hit me, I swung back with whatever I could access.I remember so vividly one night where we were fighting about my shoes being in the floor and he pushed me into my closet causing me to fall. That was the first time he ever laid his hands on me. I growled at him, telling him if he ever put his hands on me again and swung a wedged heel at him, hitting the back of his leg causing him to fall down to the floor with me. After that a lot of yelling followed. Of course that wasn’t the end of him laying his hands on me. But either way, I spoke to this girl in hopes of helping her. After an hour passed, they decided I was a harm to myself. I lost it again. They took me up on a hospital bed to the fourth floor, which was the mental ward. From there they had me strip down completely naked. I wasn’t allowed to wear my panties or my bra because that was a hazard to myself.  Let me tell you, when you suffer from severe anxiety, and one of your biggest fears is being raped, and you’re being striped down completely naked and being told you only get to wear your hospital gown. That shit is the scariest thing that I experienced there. Our doors at night were not allowed to be locked. We had no privacy at all. The only kind we got was a short wall around the toilet, waist high. On the second day I was able to get a phone call, which I called my local friend giving her my mothers number for my mom to call me. The next day during phone call hours my mother called me in tears. Hearing her voice through the phone, her broken voice, bawling, asking me why I wanted to die. That broke me. That is one of the main reasons I could never kill myself. I cannot imagine breaking my mothers heart again. While I was there in the hospital, I met with the psychiatrist and I remember him asking me, what mental illness did I believe that I suffered from, (since I’m a psych major I self diagnosed) and I told him I believe that I suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder. He looked at me dead in the face only after speaking to me for maybe 10 minutes and said “Oh no I don’t believe that, you just have Bipolar Disorder, with major Depression and anxiety. So I’m going to start you on anit-depressants, a mood stabilizer, a sleep medication and an anxiety medication” I was outraged. I wanted to call him a quack to his face. I only seen him again on my last day there, he asked me how I felt and I said that I felt better. To be honest I was so ready to get out of the boring place it was un-real. I only felt fine for a while though. Because my body began to reject the medication  I was on. It’s honestly still unclear to this day what I’m actually allergic to because I didn’t give my psychiatrist at the school a chance to figure out what caused my seizure.  She believed it was my anti-depressant, so she changed that medication and kept my mood stabilizer. Well a week later, I decided that I didn’t want to chance another seizure and completely quit all of my medication. Cold turkey. I felt like a human being afterwards. I felt naturally happy again. 

But this time period is always going to be important to me. This time period will always affect me. I will always remember about the time that I almost took my own life. There were other times where I wanted to kill myself but I “chickened” out of it. I could always talk myself out of being suicidal. It didn’t help any bit that I had just escaped a relationship where I was belittled. I was told I was nothing. I was told how much of a slut I was. I was told how stupid I was. I was told that I didn’t have a brain. I was told that I would only ever need him. I was told I would be nothing without him. I was told that no man would ever want me because I was tainted. So I mean why would I want to live after being told those repeatedly through out almost a three year span. After I was released from the hospital, my dumb ass went and seen Tyler. I was put into the viscous cycle all over again. The only difference was, in resulting from me almost killing myself caused a psychotic break. I was fucking crazy. If I didn’t take my psychotics then I was so fucking dangerous and crazy. In my twisted mind I thought we were working things out, little did I know he was just using me until he found someone to replace me. Which happened in December. Once I was finally rid of him in that sense I was beginning to get better. But just as I thought I was getting better, I invited him back into my life as a fuck buddy. Boy that was a mistake. Back into that cycle again for three more months until my 21st birthday when I cut it off again. Until about July when he contacted me all over again. We didn’t meet and hookup until later that fall. Which was about October. Maybe November. We hooked up for one last time, and I walked away for good. He still tried to contact me for probably a year or so. I would speak to him but when he got rude and hateful I quit. There was actually a point where he came to me and told me he missed me. I wanted so badly to cave but I was stronger than that. I didn’t want to be back where I was again. I didn’t want to be abused ever again. I didn’t want a man laying his hands on me again. I didn’t want to be told all those things all over again. I didn’t want my past  thrown in my face again. I finally and officially walked away for good and never looked back.

My goal in life now is to help those girls, even boys who were where I once was. To help those who were abused by someone that they loved. I went through absolute hell and I survived. I don’t know how I survived but I did and I will never forget how strong I truly am. I can say I fought with the devil and still escaped. 

[megaregz1-blog]

I hate being me living in my head is a constant hell that I don’t wish on anyone I battle myself every minute of everyday between the borderline personality disorder the eating disorders and the schizophrenia it’s pure hell the only person who knows about the voices is my girlfriend and a few selected friends like 2 that know they are always there they never go away this year has been hell it has gone from a constant radio to now people actually talking and now there’s an evil voice that likes to show up once in a while I like when there’s white noise tho you know if most people want peace and quiet they can just go to another room or go sit where there is no one I dont have that luxury if I want peace and quiet I have to spend $15 on a 2mg xanex for four hours of quiet and I’m a broke bitch so I gotta wait till the evil voice has been there a few days before I break down and pay it…I’m going through a divorce so I don’t want to go to a psych just yet but I don’t think I can. Wait much longer…..I want to die so I starve I starve myself because I haven’t yet decided if a bullet to the brain is what is going to happen. Just yet I don’t want to make anyone I care about sad but nobody u derstnsds what it’s like for me what just being g awake or asleep is like for me when I’m awake it’s the voices when. I sleep it’s the nightmares I never get an escape my girlfriend knows I starve myself for control but she made the statement the other day that I control everything I mean shit I even hold my pee and if I’m not puking because I want you refuse to puke but what she does the understand is I can’t controle the voices I mean how would you feel if you couldn’t control your own mind your own head I mean sure we all hear our own. Thoughts all day but your not really hearing them you are thinking them I hear voices that aren’t mine words I would never say I control my actions but I don’t control my head ND then when I sleep it doesn’t end I have nightmares horrible horrible nightmares the eating dissorders are the only thing about myself that I control at least that is how I feel sure I pick out my clothes and put on my make up but imagine for just one second not being able to contol your own mind it’s your brain nobody else’s but yet someone or a few other people control it how would you feel because to me that’s kinda a big deal that kinda outweighs clothes and make up so I go to food will I eat what will I eat how much will I eat and will I keep it down those are my choices in life those are the only choices I make in life that I think of nobody else first those are my selfish choices in life and I’m going to keep them till the day I die….I’m not actively trying to kill myself I dont walk around with a loaded gun or a cyonide pill but I do welcome death god do I welcome it I wish for it each day I have an amazing g girlfriend that I love almost more than I love my children and I have 3 beautiful girls I have my 11yr old with me all the time I don’t ever want to be without them but they deserve better than me the mess that I am…I’m damaged goods I’m completely fucking mental they deserve amazing they deserve great they deserve the world not that shattered peices of me that I have managed to salvage so yes I welcome death so they have a better future a future where I can watch them and they can be free free of the mess that I am….I mean with the borderline who the fuck knows who I am going to be one moment from the next and people think that’s hard to deal with imagine being the person feeling gall these feelings and not knowing am I going to be happy how bout sad am I going to be apathetic because I can’t let myself feel anything because I’ve fallen. Too deep so being numb is the only way to stop the bullet from going through my skull or the car hitting me leanna always says I have an attitude when. I go numb after I’ve been hurt but it’s not an attitude I just don’t talk I just don’t smile I just dont do anything I’m just surviving or trying to I love her more than anything she is my favorite but god she can hurt me like no other I know it bothers her but I take every thing she does and says personal I don’t mean to I don’t want to it’s just the way it is I can’t help but take everything personal with her because I’m so scared of messing everything up…That’s what I do I miss everything up all the time even my dad will tell you that if there’s a way to fuck it up I’ll do it and if there’s not a way to fuck it up I’ll make one…. You know I started out starving myself in 98 because I was raped and I was 210lbs and my way of thinking was well if I wasn’t so heavy maybe he would have just asked if I wanted to have sex so if I lost weight maybe it wouldn’t happen again…..I was wrong…But that’s the mentality of a 16yrold and being raped I lost control….Restricting my food made me gain. Some control back and it became a challenge like oh wow I lost 15lbsin a month how much can I lose next month if I restrict more and as a teenager your parents tell you what to do so ana and Mia gave me a sense of freedom of independence then as an adult you start thinking of others before yourself you start doing things to keep the peace you pick and chose your battles with people you do things for people so what do I do I hold on to ana and Mia I keep them close to me and I lean on them because just because you are choosing to do things for people doesn’t mean that it’s your choice because if you had your way you would do something else you really wanted to chose this battle but you don’t so you restrict you purge because that’s is your choice that you want to chose since you didn’t chose that last battle I didn’t want that nightmare last night so today I starve today I show myself that I can chose what to eat I still have contol I fall deep deeper than most people can go when I feel sad it’s not just sad it’s life altering life ending sad like when my baby brother died I fell into an abyss I tried to hide it from the world people feel sorrow when people died but when Mickey killed himself I tried my best to die to I got lost in drugs trying to o.d. I guess that’s why I want to get sober I’m subconsciously trying to live because Everytime I do a drug I hope I o.d. or I’ll have an allergic reaction I never had before Everytime I do something I hope it’s my last time…..I almost had it 3x 3x I o.d. 3x my life was saved a life that isn’t worth saving I’m not worth it I’ll never be worth it god why did I get saved why couldn’t they just let me go and it seems like the older I get the more of a mess I become I wish I was normal I wish I didn’t piss leanna off so much I wish I could be normal for her…My kids have never known me any other way so they don’t get mad when I am the way I am they just get mad cuz I’m their mom but leanna she deserves normal and I’m always possible g her off because of how I am I don’t want to be this way anymore but there’s no pill I can take to change my personality. There’s nothing I can take to take the borderline away I don’t u derstnsds why she is with me I do the understand how she can love me I am basically unlovable I mean if your reading g this the. I’m sure you agree I don’t want to be how I am I don’t want to to feel things the way I do I wish I was normal I wish I could go by what I know not how I feel but it’s like if I don’t feel it it’s not a fact if I feel like you are lying to me and you show me proof that you aren’t until that feeling of you lying to me goes away I can’t go by the facts that you just showed me….When I’m down I go down so far that it takes me longer to “get over it” than it does most people and when I’m in a good mood it takes longer for me to come down unless something happens to bring me down and because I’m so emotional and touchy it could be anything that brings me down and brings me down fast……I wish I could explain to Leanna I wish there was a way I could make her understand I wish I didn’t make her so mad or annoy or keep her so aggrivated…Looking at my life it’s not the life that you want to end I have ana amazing girlfriend I have a job I have. A roof over my head I have 3 beautiful daughters I have a life that people want and if intake myself out of the equation it’s a life that is the best I could ever ask for for its me I do the want it’s me that is a problem I hate my head I hate the way I look I hate the way I think I hate the way I act I hate the way I feel I wish Leanna understood that is a chemical imbalance in my head that makes me depressed not her but if I talk about how I feel she tells me to find someone who makes me happy and typing this gives me the same feeling that. I get when. She says it it’s this knot in my chest a feeling of despair like the start of an anxiety attack but she is my happy she is the only person that can make me happy she isn’t the reason I’m depressed she is the best thing In my life sure people get drepressdd for a week because they don’t have a job or something but that’s not the depression I have mine can’t be cured by getting a job or going somewhere mine can only be cured by medicine but I don’t have time to go get meds between mine and her schedule and then when we do have a day off well she has issues too and needs to go to the Dr and I know she wasn’t trying to make me feel anyway but she told me she can’t go get checked because she never has time and if she does have time something g else comes up that more important and weather she was trying to or not and Im sure she wasn’t trying to that made me feel like shit so I refuse to be the more important thing that keeps her from going because I am not more important than her not by anyway shape or form but she made me feel like shit when she said it so I won’t be what stops her from going plus anyway I’ve been like this my entire life so what’s a little bit longer….I have 5 layers of myself I have who I show the world Wich is completely fake happy amazing person the one who is made of rainbows and glitter and unicorns then I have who I show my family and friends that is a semi normal person who is happy all the time well most the time then I have who my kids see they don’t know all the bad of me all my sadness but they have a glips then there’s who Leanna sees she gets the most real me anyone gets….Depending on her mood depends on how real I am and then there is me just me the one I get to be when nobody is around the me that is free to just sit and just be I do the have to smile if I dont want and worry about being accused of having an attitude or being sad…Yeah I’m sad but I don’t want to talk about it no I don’t have ana attitude just cuz I’m sitting without a smile I’m just being that’s it ….I’ve been disassociateing a lot lately cuz I have to put on a front so much cuz I can’t just sit without a smile and be quiet so I stare I zone I disassociate because I need to have a break from being who everyone wants me to be….It gets so tiring being who everyone wants pretending I’m not this fucking mess of a person who thinks the world is better off without me and not good enough for anyone I love especially my girlfriend I worry I’m not good enough for her in more ways than one I worry I’m not good enough for her everyway possible….It’s weired worrying about that cuz in every relationship before her I did the care if I was enough for someone I really never stopped to even question it but with her with her everything is different….I’m so tired of being me I wish one day I could wake up and be someone else else or just not wake up at all ....

[greetings-from-the-suffer-puppet]

I was tagged by both @a-little-fall-of-ravenclaw and @justjessiehere! Thanks loves!

Rules: answer the questions, tag people you want to know better!

Name: Aeron

Nicknames: I??? Don’t really have one??? Though before I changed my name some people called me Ryn- @elroymarvelous decided to make it Rynchester-- OH! Aero! (it’s from elementary school and only one person uses it don’t ask)

Gender: Nonbinary

Star Sign: Taurus

Height: 5′7

Sexual Orientation: ................................i like girls??? a lot???? but idk if i wanna have sex??? so idfk

Hogwarts House: Slytherin (HISS HISS MOTHERFUCKERS)

Favorite Color: purple, silver, black

Favorite Animal: KITTIES also sharks

Average Hours of sleep: 5-8

Cat or dog person: CAT PERSON (even if i am allergic THANKS MOM) but puppos are awesome too

Favorite Fictional Characters: how dare????? Castiel, Charlie Bradbury, Leia Organa, Rey, Finn, Poe Dameron, Jyn Erso, Bodhi Rook, Chirrut Imwe, Baze Malbus, K2-SO, BB8, R2-D2, C-3PO, Claire Novak, Frisk, Chara, Asriel/Flowey, Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Asgore, Toriel, basically the entire fucking cast of Undertale (minus JERRY-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-LIKED), Moana, Maui, Mulan (FUCK YEAH DISNEY), Tony Stark, Newt Scamander bc he’s a cutie.......................okay i’m going to stop now bc this is getting Out of Control Number of blankets I sleep with: ....................number i sleep with, or number ON MY BED? because the answers vary from one to six

Favorite Singer/Band: Fall Out Boy, SharaX, Groundbreaking, Halsey, Melanie Martinez, Mitis, Phil Lober, Thomas Bergersen, and TryHardNinja.

Dream Trip: ...the moon? JK, Ireland or Italy sound p nice.

Dream Job: A U T H O R or masseuse but that shit hURTS even if i am good at it

When was this blog created: two years ago??? july of 2015, at least.  

Current number of followers: 583 lovely people/goddamn spambots

When did your blog reach its peak?: It’s??? still rising??? hopEFULLY???

What made you decide to make a Tumblr?: ...*shifty eyes* @elroymarvelous don’t read this one.... so uh.... it was bc i wanted to follow this one particular blog??? ..................which is nsfw???? so.... fuck it im not tagging them i am a tiny potato we’re not going there

Relationship status: single as a pringle!! (and no crushes to speak of!!... i think.)

Lipstick or chapstick? Chapstick, if i gotta choose one

Last song I listened to: "Borderline” by Tove Styrke (it’s a good song, don’t judge it by the artist’s name)

Last movie I watched: Rogue!! One!!!

Top 3 shows: Psych, Parks & Rec, Avatar: The Last Airbender/Legend of Korra (i’m counting these as one item screw it) (no, SPN’s not on there, and that is bc it’s not a good show!!!)

Top 3 characters: Claire Novak, Sans, Moana (Bodhi Rook is my fourth pick!!) (Cas isn’t on here bc the writers don’t know how to write him, and i’m discounting fanon characterization)

Top 3 ships: SpiritAssassin, Casbriel, Winteriron (lol two of these coming out of fucking nowhere for most of you~ do i give a fuck? no. no i do not. come at me with your ship hate, i will not give a fuck then either.)

We were allowed to tag anywhere from 9-20 ppl so I shall tag:  @snowyowletqueen @carvemeup @thisacelovessabriel @insertlifestory @insertevencoolername @of-cheshire-cats-and-alice @queerseth @queerezekiel @shulto-masu @ughcas @sassian-cassian @aspiritwind and @lord-briarwood! y’all are under no obligation to do this mishmash of two challenges, but it’d be super cool if you do!!

[deluluonmyback]

i had the most beautiful encounter the other day

my mate: i will cut you

me: i already do that to myself

my mate: i don’t know how to threaten you

[relientkitten-blog]

History, Part 1

The story begins in September 2016. I had a sinus infection. Well, I thought it was a sinus infection. Really it was just a headache and an earache in my left ear. But the headache was up in the forehead sinus region so we all assumed it was a sinus infection. That and my ears did have some inflammation. So blood tests were drawn and antibiotics were thrown at it. Three different antibiotics, in fact.

Oh, and steroids. That was the fault of my allergist. We knew I was allergic to prednisone but it was decided we’d try an extremely mild dose of methylprednisolone to lower that ear inflammation. It was less than 24 hours before the pain started. Sigh. I was taken off of my nasal sprays, too, since those have small amounts of steroids. Fuck, I have to avoid tumeric now, too. Oh how I miss you, saag.

And then the itching began! Suddenly my whole body was itching like crazy. We thought it was the vicoden that I’d be given to counter the pain of the steroid reaction so I was taken off of that and stuck on a moderate dose of hydroxizine. The hydroxizine took the edge off of the itching but it never got rid of it.

And then there was the day that I went to get my allergy shot and did not realize that the fuchsia patch on my leg was hives and not spilled juice until *after* I had gotten my shot... which triggered an allergic reaction. And they couldn’t give me steroids. But they stuck me with an Epi-Pen. Twice! And the ER just gave me a double dose of Benadryl and sent me home.

The allergist called the allergy reactions “idiopathic urticaria”, which translates to “we don’t know why you’re itching and breaking out in fuchsia patches.”

But the pain in my head and left ear never went away. My PA had a CT scan done of my sinuses and it came back clear--the ENT said *maybe* eustachian tube issues, but guess what they treat that with? Yep, steroids. Fuck. He sent me to my dentist on the off chance that it was my wisdom teeth causing problems. My dentist said it was the equivalent of a 1% chance but he referred me to an oral surgeon, who was also skeptical, but a removal date was set.

During all of this my inflammation markers and my WBC were staying pretty consistently elevated. But no one could tell me why. And fuck if my ear and head didn’t hurt like crazy most of the time.

My mood finally dropped, and it dropped hard. I had suicidal ideations and freaked my spouse out to the point that he locked up all of my medicines and was the one who gave me my daily doses. I eventually came out of it and contacted my PA (who is amazing, btw) and she urged me to reach out to my psychiatrist (who I hate, btw.)

My psych decided to bump my lamotrigine from 200mg/day to 300mg/day. After over two weeks of borderline mania, I realized what was going on and gave her a call. She told me to go back down to 200mg/day. Five days later, she dropped me to 150mg/day.

At this point we still didn’t have an answer for why my WBC and inflammation was still high, nor for why my head and ear were still killing me (other than the minuscule chance of it being wisdom teeth.) My PA referred me out to Infectious Disease.

A week and a half later, I had gotten up from my computer chair to head upstairs for bed when I noticed that I felt... woozy. Drunk even. My legs were wobbly and I was swaying a lot. I chalked it up to being tired, even though it was right at my normal bedtime, and just went to bed.

The next morning I felt worse. I couldn’t stand for long without feeling really tired and off-balance. I was seeing my PA for labs that day anyhow so I told her about it and she gave me some Anti-Vert.

The weekend followed and things got... worse. We realized on Sunday that it wasn’t vertigo--it was weakness. My PA sent me a message that my labs had come in and my glucose level at the lab time had clocked in really high, which was odd considering my eating pattern right before the lab was taken. We kept an eye on blood sugars for the rest of the weekend and while they were a smidge high at times, they were not terribly out of whack.

As the days followed, my weakness kept getting worse. It wasn’t just in my legs--my arms were affected too, just not quite as badly. I couldn’t walk for very long. My balance was awful. I was using my spouse to get back and forth anywhere (and that was basically the bathroom and nowhere else.) And the pain, oh gods the pain. Electrical pains, stabbing pains, aching pains. I itched like crazy one minute and the next minute my feet were pins-and-needling and then numb.

I was laying in bed while my spouse took our son Trick-or-Treating. I missed my favorite holiday of the year.

By the time my ID appointment rolled around, I could barely walks 15 feet, even with help. I could not hold myself up for any length of time. Navigating the hallways to get to the office from the parking garage was almost unbearable--but we made it.

The ID PA said none of it sounded like anything infectious and she referred me to rheumatology, taking some initial labs for them. I already had an appointment lined up with my neurology team for the next day and she stressed that I should keep it. The office was kind enough to lend us a wheelchair to get me back to the car.

We celebrated my spouse’s birthday laying in bed, eating key lime pie.

The next day, Thursday, November 3rd, 2016, I could barely move. I got to the car and that was all of my energy. All of it. My spouse got a loaner wheelchair from the neurology office and took me upstairs.

My condition was apparently concerning to my neurology NP (whom I love)--I was extremely weak, my speech was slow, I was missing reflexes in both arms and one of my legs, and I was showing signs of neuropathy. That was on top of the other symptoms we explained regarding the electrical pains, extremity numbness, pins and needles, and muscle spasms. She called in my doctor, who was working in the hospital next door. He came in and checked me over as well. I was sent over to the hospital for admission with the scary name “Guillain-Barré” echoing through my brain.

(Part 2 to follow.)