#so I’ve decided instead to just believe I don’t have BPD so I’m not being offensive/toxic to those who genuinely have it

[sadselfhelp]

Who I Am, And Why I Created This Blog.

TRIGGER WARNINGS - Mental Illness, Self-Harm, Child Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Violence, Drug Overdose, Suicide, Psychotic Breaks. 

Take a walk with me, let me show you around the mind of The Sad Hatter.

There's a lot going on in my head right now, and I feel like I'm on the precipice of something. I'm standing on a cliff's edge and I'm either going to plummet or I'm going to fly. It's been building inside me for a long time, and I can't contain it anymore. So here it is, here's me laid bare, because I need to say this, I need to put it into words. I need to purge it all. To try and make sense of all of this shit in my brain, I think it's time I organize it. I don't know where to begin, but I guess I start at the beginning and make use of the ability to edit.

Before you read this, please be aware of the trigger warnings. And please understand that this is the most honest and open I have been, I really am stripped bare in this piece of writing. It’s not at all pretty, and am I not guiltless in parts. This may well alter whatever opinion you have of me. 

I guess the beginning is birth, right? But I don't want to rehash all that trauma, so let me speed through it. Twenty-Eight years ago I was born, violently. I'm serious, I ripped my way out of the womb, and tore that thing apart. I guess I can sort of understand why my mother couldn't love me after that was my first act, collapsing her womb. So let me speedrun this part of the story. Mum didn't want me, gave me to my dad who raised me as a single parent with the help of his parents, until he met my stepmother. Shockingly, she didn't want me either, but because she couldn't get rid of me she decided to physical and psychological torture was the next best thing. 

When I was eleven years old I snapped and didn't want to put up with it anymore, so I wrote a goodbye note and then snuck into the medicine cabinet and took a bunch of pills. Spoiler alert, I didn't die. I did however end up in a children's home, cue more abuse, little bit of bullying and sexual assault etc.... I snapped again, but instead of turning my anger inwards, I became an absolute bastard. Ok, I still turned it inwards a bit, I had a lot of anger, and now I have a few hundred scars to prove it. But, it turns out that violence can beget violence, and I acted out in every possible way. Racked up a horrifying rap sheet, assault, vandalism, arson, and finally... GBH. I was supposed to get put in a secure unit (child prison – Scottish Edition) but I was always able to talk myself out of trouble. 

See, I was this tiny little white girl with big sad eyes and a hell of a sob story, even at the bottom of the food chain I still had privilege. So instead of getting locked up, I just got sent to a different home. And here's the really messed up part, this home was better. The staff were nicer, and nobody hurt me. My behavior literally changed overnight. I went from being charged by the police on a weekly basis, to never getting so much as a pocket money sanction. I will never excuse my actions, nor condone them, but after years of guilt I finally realized that the bad things I did were in retaliation to a bad situation, and though I wasn’t acting like a good person, I’m not a bad person, just a messed up one. 

I still refused to go to school though, because though I didn't yet know it at the time, I had severe social anxiety. I was smart, a little too smart to be honest, and I found myself thriving with a private tutor. When the time came to sit my exams, someone fucked up, and despite having record breaking test scores on the pre-exams, I never actually got to sit my standard grades (think SAT's – Scottish Edition). I'm still bitter about that. So by this point in the story, I'm 16, and legally an adult, too old for a children's home. I got turfed to a hostel, and the next few parts of the story are pretty fuzzy to me. 

This is where my mental health really started to deteriorate. I bounced between homeless hostels and B&B's for a year or so, until I got a my first flat/apartment. By that point, I was utterly fucked in the head. I was blacking out frequently, for anywhere between a couple of minutes to three days. I would come back to myself in sometimes compromising positions, and once there was blood. A lot of blood, splashed all over the walls. Then there was the time I suddenly found myself standing in the kitchen, about to plunge a knife into my own chest.

Nobody ever did tell me what the hell that was about. Or maybe they did and I just... forgot? But because I was extremely suicidal, a doctor finally decided to do something, and the police and the paramedics came to my door to take me to the psychiatric hospital. I spent ten months there while I cycled through various anti-psychotics and anti-depressants, and was 'rehabilitated into society'. The second I was out, I made the worst decision I have ever made in my life. If I can give you one piece of advice, one lesson to take from my shitshow of a life, it's this: Don't move hundreds of miles away to be with the guy you met online while you were having a psychotic break.

I've never really thought of myself as a victim, but I guess I'm the only one who saw it that way. Ben, that was his name, Ben was a monster, and I didn't know it until it was too late. He never hit me, never lifted a hand to me, he never had to. He could put a knife in my hand and make me hurt myself for his entertainment. I had told him everything, so he knew exactly how to break me down, how to make me want to bleed. He locked me in a house and used me up. And when I had enough, and tried to break free of him, he would just tell the police I was mentally ill and they would smile sympathetically and give me back to him.

But then my dad had a breakdown. My dad, who when he found out what my stepmother was doing to me, buried his head in the sand and packed my little suitcase for me. I hadn't spoken to him in a while until he reached out from the same psychiatric ward I had not long vacated. He had cracked under the realization that I had never lied about her, and the guilt broke him apart. I could have hated him, if it had happened a few years earlier then I would have. But I had experienced enough of the world to learn a few things, like how easily it is to fuck up, and that no matter how strong you are, you aren't immune to monsters. The truth was he was as much a victim of her evil as I was. She had manipulated him, played with his head, used his insecurities against him. So I helped him through his issues, the way I wished someone had helped me. That doesn't really make me a good person, it just makes me human.

But my dad got better, and found his footing. And when he did, he realized something wasn't right with me, and I told him the truth about Ben. My dad had left me to suffer at the hands of an abuser once before, and he wasn't going to allow it to happen again. He came and got me, and he took me home. He moved me in with him, gave me his bed and slept on the couch. After a couple of months, he helped me get my own place.

And that's the happy ending, right? All the trauma was over, I was safe, that's where the story should end. Right? I bet you're not naive enough to believe that, but I sure as hell was. I thought I would recover and that everything would be ok. I thought that with safety, there would come the chance to heal. I thought my wounds would scab over, and I would have my scars but at least I would be able to move without bleeding out. But that's not how trauma works. I had two decades worth of trauma, abuse, and hell.

I just... faded. I didn't crack, I didn't crumble, I didn't break, I just stopped. For five years I sat in one room of my home, drowning inside myself. Last year I got handed a lifeline, and now I live somewhere better. I'm not really allowed to live independently so I actually live in kind of retirement village of all places. I have my own house, but it's got intercoms and emergency cords everywhere, I get checked on daily by on on-site worker. And I'm trying to get better, I really am. It's just not that easy.

There's more to the whole story that I maybe should have put in, like the fact that my mother was a drug addict when she was pregnant with me, and that may have been the reason some of my organs didn't properly form and/or formed wrong. My lung split in half when I was a baby, and parts of my stomach are missing. Or that my mother is full on batshit insane. I could have had a perfect childhood and I still would have been mentally ill. Hell, I was seeing psychologists at five years old. Take my sketchy genetics, add twenty years of severe traumas, and well... I'm a little fucked up. Because a lot of medical conditions use acronyms, my full list of diagnosis looks like I'm collecting the fucking alphabet.

I have Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), and Agoraphobia. I also have a Pulmonary Sequestration, Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia, the stomach and lung issues. Immune Hemolytic Anemia, I'm basically allergic to my own blood. Plus, ya know, my liver recently decided to just fucking nope out, the pissy lil bitch is failing. I also may or may not have cancer, I don't know because I pussied out of the tests. At this point I am a walking, decaying corpse that is held together by glitter glue and bitterness.

So... why exactly am I writing this? And why am I even considering posting this? I mean, my problems aren't as bad as some other people's. We've all got shit to deal with, especially in 2020. The whole world is falling apart, so what right do I have to sit here pouting and pouring my problems out? Well, for a start, I guess this is my blog, I can post whatever, and it's up to everyone else if they read it.

So here it is, you have the backstory, so here's what it's all been leading up to.

I'm struggling. Like, really struggling. I'm stuck on this cliff, and I want off, any way I can. Whether I fall or fly, I just want free. I can't live like this anymore, because I can't breathe.

The fucking agonizing duality of being socially anxious and too easily overstimulated, and yet feeling fucking empty inside if you're not surrounded by action and noise. The world is too noisy for my brain, but my brain is too noisy for the world. I get antsy if I'm not doing at least a thousand different tasks, but I get overwhelmed if I try to do anything at all. It leads to short bursts of mania, followed by weeks of depression. But underneath all of that, under all the dramatic showboating, and the dark humor, under all the bravado... I'm really just sad.

Years ago, when I first came up with the moniker "The Sad Hatter", I said it was because I may be mad, but my madness was born of sadness. I'm just sad. I carry it with me where my heart should be. So I named myself Sad, and I put on the hat, and I wore my sadness like armor, turned it into an act, and made a spectacle of it. "I'm The Sad Hatter, and I'm mentally ill but that's alright, I'm going to be just fine!" I told you all I had my issues, and I'll come close to opening up about how bad those issues are, I'll give little chunks of information at intermittent intervals, and then two hours later I'll act like it never happened. I'll admit I was close to killing myself, and then two days later I'll post dog photo's and act like I'm all better.

I'm writing this because I'm sad. And tomorrow, I'll act like I'm not. But when I waver again, I'll come back here and I'll open up again. And along the way, maybe you're reading this and realizing you aren't alone in feeling overwhelmed. Maybe you're realizing you're not the only one who isn't healing neatly and in a timely manner. Maybe you're reading this and gaining some insight into the struggles someone you care about is facing. Maybe my opening up is can help somebody else, I really hope so, but I know it's helping one person. It's helping me.

This blog, it's about living with myself. It's about living with The Sad Hatter.

[vividaway]

Maybe instead of focusing on Joey and Daniel calling Gabbie out (which is their right. If Gabbie can call out them for what she perceives as bad working conditions, than they have every right to refute her claims), you and the rest of the stans should address the latest information about Bianca that has been brought to light as well as the fact that Gabbie stalked someone online who happened to be underaged.

PLEASE CONSIDER SIGNING TO MAKE BIANCA'S LAW REAL. https://www.change.org/p/bianca-s-law-stop-the-spread-of-violent-and-graphic-images-on-the-internet

BEFORE ALL OF THIS LET ME SAY: your use of Bianca Devins in this disgusting manipulative way is exactly that-- disgusting and manipulative. my twitter messages are open, so to not only track down my tumblr, but ANONYMOUSLY LEAVE A MESSAGE TRYING TO USE BIANCA'S NAME LIKE THIS? DIS-FUCKING-GUSTING.

___

Alright, here's a concept.

It's not Joey and Daniels place to refute Gabbie's claims. Their main point in all of this was "She never filled out the form! It's all her fault!" which is actually irrelevant to the story, seeing as she had told them PERSONALLY. in a FACE TO FACE INTERACTION.

the fact of the matter is, as the showrunner, and literal creator of the show, it is your responsibility to ensure the safety of ALL of your cast and crew. and yes, this does include the mental well-being (of the rest of the cast)--

-- and on that note, i also need to say that them not communicating to Gabbie that she were to be killed off, to me, is just unprofessional. it would have made filming a lot better. like honestly, do you think Gabbie would have been as pissed if she knew she wasn't going to be there again?

and another thing-- if Gabbie acted SO horribly, why did they stay her friend? Collab on her channel? if Gabbie acted SO BADLY during SEASON TWO... why did they invite her back? and if Tana was an issue, why invite HER back? I'm very glad that tana had a better time during season 4, but the fact that they knew BOTH OF THEM were bad on set, yet invited them back? they're literally setting up every other person around them for a toxic work-place experience. I've said it once and it's my next point, too, its un. pro. fessional.

ignoring all of that. literally every single piece of information i've stated above. THERE ARE TWO SOLE REASONS I STAND WITH GABBIE.

1. Joey and Daniel, no matter how horrible Gabbie may have acted, had no right to play out Gabbie's voice memo's where she was expressing that she was EXTREMELY UPSET. that she was dealing with multiple things in her life. They had NO right. Trisha Paytas, of all people, has even heard that voice memo enough to MOCK, AND MAKE FUN OF GABBIE'S EATING DISORDER, PUBLICLY, MULTIPLE TIMES, REFERENCING THE VOICE MEMO. to have the people you WORKED FOR, DO THAT? how could anyone in their cast ever trust them again? who's to say you wont send them a genuinely confidential voice memo, and they STILL decide to share it with people?

2. BECAUSE GABBIE'S MENTAL HEALTH ISNT A CRUTCH, IT ISNT AN EXCUSE, AND IT SURE AS HELL ISNT A JOKE. Gabbie Hanna was on the brink of suicide, she was struggling with an eating disorder, had undiagnosed, unmedicated ADHD, was dealing with immense c-ptsd, and it is ALL. FUCKING. VALID.

for YEARS. I've been told to stop using my Bipolar as a crutch. that i was in therapy for it, and that i needed to use coping mechanisms. i was later diagnosed with BPD-- and suddenly i didn't need to cope anymore. my anger was suddenly understandable. people finally believed me.

you DO NOT. HAVE TO HAVE. A FUCKING GOD DAMN PERSONALITY DISORDER TO BE FUCKING BELIEVED.

ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING?

my BPD WASN'T THE ISSUE.

IT WAS MY ADHD.

its literally wired into our brains, and WE. CANNOT. CONTROL. IT. the ONLY THING WE CAN DO, IS TREAT IT.

to continue to NOT LISTEN TO PEOPLE WHEN THEY ARE CLEARLY EXPRESSING THEIR LIMITS is the reason mental health is in its infancy today. we know when something is too much, and we know when our conditions are causing us to have outbursts, because its something we dont do EVERY SINGLE DAY. we need to realize that ALL. MENTAL. ILLNESSES. EVERY SINGLE ONE.

IS JUST AS IMPORTANT. JUST AS DIFFICULT. AND JUST AS UNIQUE, AS ANY OTHER MENTAL ILLNESS.

with the amount of genetical defects, the amount of nationalities that exist, the amount of co-morbidities, EVERY. SINGLE. THING. THAT MAKES ME DIFFERENT FROM YOU? you GENUINELY expect there to be a person in the world with the EXACT SAME THOUGHT PROCESS, exact same conditions, exact same life circumstances, as me? as Gabbie? as YOU?

there is a reason people with mental illness have a common symptom, no matter the condition. that symptom is the thought that no one in the world can possibly have the same thought process as you. its the symptom that i essentially expressed a paragraph before this one. and its because we realize that THERE ISNT. that it isnt a symptom, but a fact, to us. because you cant thing the way i can. my brain will only ever process the way MY. BRAIN. PROCESSES.

that. is why i stand by Gabbie.

____________________________________________

So, the new information about Bianca Devins? Alright, lets talk about it.

Kim Devins, Bianca's mom, has called for all drama channels to apologize to Gabbie Hanna for the way they treated her in regards to her commenting on Bianca's shirts.

I know you want me to say that it turns out Gabbie is actually manipulating the mother, and Gabbie actually WAS exploiting Bianca---

NO.

KIM DEVINS IS A GROWN WOMAN. KIM DEVINS HAS SAID PUBLICLY, ON HER OWN, PUBLIC TWITTER ACCOUNT, THAT GABBIE HANNA DESERVES AN APOLOGY. KIM DEVINS HAS STATED THAT EVERYTHING GABBIE HAS SAID WAS IN FACT-- THE TRUTH. TO SAY GABBIE IS LYING, IS TO SAY THE MOTHER IS LYING, AS THE MOTHER HAS NOT ONLY APPROVED OF, BUT ENDORSED THE VIDEO.

i know i linked this before everything, but if you haven't already, PLEASE. FUCKING. SIGN.

https://www.change.org/p/bianca-s-law-stop-the-spread-of-violent-and-graphic-images-on-the-internet

_____________________________________________

Yeah uhh..so first off, Gabbie never doxxed ANYONE. as someone who's had their literal home IP leaked-- you shouldn't just throw that term around lightly. its genuinely traumatic for people to be doxxed.

Gabbie did however, grab the IP of someone. she did this, because she was worried it was someone SHE FULLY KNEW, was a danger to minors.

Second off, this was talked about quite awhile ago, in april or may-- she actually did that WELL OVER a year ago. we only know because she talked about it on Marco Polo (an app where you can group video chat and text. it was a perk of one of the tiers of her patreon) and it was leaked recently. so i don't really get your point in that.

Gabbie only did that because of all the minor fans that people were SCREAMING for Gabbie to protect last summer. They blamed Gabbie for certain fans that were getting bullies by anti's, all because Gabbie herself didn't tell people not to. so OF FUCKING COURSE she is going to do anything she can to protect her fans if she FULLY KNOWS a PROPER P*DO is trying to imitate a fan account, and she thinks she found it.

When the IP didn't match with where she knew the gross ass guy lived, she completely discarded it. Honestly, if you're upset with this, you might at well be upset with THIS, too. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JaJqBug10MQ

--------------------------------------------------------

ALL OF THIS TO SAY:

THIS IS A THOMAS SANDERS BLOG

PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT GABBIE HANNA.

[rubydiamondintherough]

TRIGGER WARNING: Good morning. I can say that and mean it. It's beautiful out. My blood pressure is high though. It's frustrating. But I'm going to shift the nergy this morning to a topic I spoke about not too long ago on my Facebook. Just a recap for those who are following me here but don't know me from Facebook. Why is mental health not prioritized the same way as physical health? I've been told time and time again from a mixture of friends and family to try to " pray away my mental health iasues". First off. I believe in God. But to tell someone to try to pray away something they were born with is so damaging. You may mean well but it's not as helpful as you think it is. Let's take a trip in time really quickly. I started showing signs of a deeper issue at age 2. My mom was starting a new job. I had a panic attack so bad I passed out. After the passing of my grandmother and great grandmother in 2002,I started having those same type of panic attacks in school. I've ridden in an ambulance more times than I can count. Now as an adult and have gown threw therapy.

The most common misconception is that mental illness only affects your mind. I don't know if it's a lack of education or merely it's been forgotten. But the body cannot work without the mind. Your brain is what sends signals to your body constantly. Emotional pain can be physical. Your mind sometimes gets confused . It knows it's in pain, so it starts firing. That's where the shakes you get from anxiety come from. The feeling of not being able to breathe during a panic attack. Or the pain in your chest when you are depressed. Your pain is real. And sometimes it can be debilitating.

So let's back track to the beginning. When you're sick do you just pray or do you see a doctor and pray to God to find answers and treatment? When you know you have been diagnosed with something such as high blood pressure, diabetes ,asthma, cancer,copd etc. Do you just pray it away or do you take the steps in keeping yourself healthy?

There is this terrible stigma that getting mental health help means you're crazy. Why? The mind is just as important of a body part then everything else? The brain is so powerful it literally controls everything inside of you. And just like any other body part it can be unwell too. Some are born with this and some develop it from PTSD.

Instead of getting angry. I'm going to speak to those who think mental illness means you are crazy.

I was diagnosed 10 years ago. I was 18. Just finished high-school barely. My anxiety was at an all time high (didn't know what it was then) I was severely depressed ( didn't understand ) and my bpd was running rampid. My mind was telling me you can talk about this. They'll think you're crazy. So I suffered. Until one day I woke up and decided today I will take my life. I'm the only one who feels like this, if I tell anyone they'll think I'm crazy. So I told the one person, I thought would understand. They told me you don't have the balls to do that. So I tried. Obviously survived. But that day. As I tried to take my life. I saved it.

I was admitted for an almost 2 week stay at Anna Jacques Psych Ward. Against my wishes. And my mom actually committed me. I was mad as fuck. So angry. How could she think I was crazy? Why would she let me go here? Why won't she save me.

Well she was saving me. She realized if she doesn't get help there won't be a next time. And let me tell yall I'm so angry with the way psychiatric hospitals are portrayed on TV. Because honestly. It was one of the most comfortable places I've ever been too. Everyone around me was going through something. Alot of things I felt were worse then mine.

I'll dive more into that experience in my next post because I think it's important to have real expectations. If you're contemplating getting help. It's nice to know what to expect.

In conclusion, really take the time to think about your response when someone comes to you about their battles. If you know you lack the experience in the battle or have not had a similar one. It's okay to not give any advice. JUST LISTEN. Even if you're against Dr's. Don't advice them to not see one. Just because it didn't work for you doesn't mean it won't work for them. And vice versa. If you've never been suicidal don't give advice on it. It's one of the worst feelings in the world. It's okay to not have all the answers..don't pray their illness away. God made us this way so it could never be a curse. I said it before and I'll repeat it again. There is beauty in pain. We are beautiful we feel so strongly because we are good people and we crave more of us. Pray they find the tools to survive.

[anxietycalling]

how i spent my summer vacation

Or, where the fuck have I been these literal years? (I can’t believe it’s been years.)

I feel like I need to, at some point, talk about everything that happened between now and the point where I dropped off the face of the earth. And, like, actually talk, not that thing I do where I make a joke out of everything. So... I’m doing this up front, so if anyone actually still follows my shitshow of a life, you know what you’re getting yourself into before it’s too late.

Okay. Where to start.

Um, obviously, after the 2016 election I gtfo’d the US. Because I couldn’t legally work in the US at that point, I had pretty much no savings and no money because every dollar I did get went to supporting me and Dash because of the absolute nightmare that happened there. I’m not... mad at her anymore, not quite - I recognize that a lot of actions on both sides were the result of severe, untreated trauma and mental illness, so it’s hard to look at either of us and say that someone was the villain there. It’s hard to recognize when you’re in survival mode that your actions are self-destructive. But, anyway, because of that, I had no choice other than to move in with my parents. Which many of you are aware is not the healthiest choice for me mentally or physically.

And, again, it’s not that my parents are bad people. They’re good people who are trying their best, but there are two factors that lead to me living with them being a terrible idea. 1) My mother has a lot of unprocessed intergenerational trauma due to mental illness that she is still dealing with, and 2) Neither of my parents have ever lived in an urban center, which lends itself to a specific mindset when it comes to dealing with mental illness and LGBTQ+ issues. Which is to say, it’s hard to have a regular dating or sex life when everyone knows your business while your parents are simultaneously trying to pretend you don’t have genitals that they’re uncomfortable with. Also, I didn’t have my license at the time because I let it expire before getting my permanent one, so I was pretty much at the mercy of whoever could drive me places. (I lived in cities before that, so not driving was never much of an issue. I am highly proficient in public transit.)

So living with my parents was this precarious balancing act of trying to do everything they wanted me to do, because they were letting me live there for free, and meeting the demands of my bosses (who immediately demoted me once they found out I wasn’t planning on living there forever), and trying to have a social life outside of my family. And, like, I had just come out of the closet, so I was also trying to date without my parents finding out, because, like? It gets exhausting trying to explain why you have a right to exist and love who you want to love and I tend to get defensive when I feel like I have to justify myself. But all that secrecy really wears on you. I think in the worst of it I was probably sleeping 3-5 hours a night between the anxiety, having to walk or wait for rides everywhere, and staying up late enough after my parents went to sleep to try to meet guys on dating apps. 

Dating apps when you live in a rural area are the worst. Not only is there a limited dating pool to begin with, it sucks when someone ghosts you and then re-signs up for the same dating app using a fake name and you catch them at it. I get it to some extent; people are afraid of being outed, even if on paper we’re one of the premier retirement destination for gay couples near Toronto. (Read: affluent, white, cis gay men.) It’s gotten better in the last couple of years, but... Yeah, there just was nothing for me there. 

Obviously I had to widen my perimeter for who I was willing to date, and that’s how I met Husband. Completely by accident. My phone provider was out one day, so I didn’t get any messages from anyone for almost 24 hours while I was figuring that out. His message to me was one of the ones that got pushed through when my phone service restored itself. (I still, to this day, don’t know why or how this happened.) And there was nothing there that was inherently like, “Hey, you’re going to date and then marry this guy,” other than the fact that he actually put effort into his message instead of sending “hey” over and over again to get a response. But he was funny, and he was charming, and we fell for each other really quickly. Pretty soon all my money (which, again, limited, because the awful ladies I worked for decided I wasn’t leadership material even though they gave me no training or direction, ever) was going to taking the train here pretty much every time I had a day off from work. And I was lying to my parents about it, because they decidedly do not like or approve of dating apps or internet friendships in general.

Something happens in relationships where one or both of you are chronically ill. There comes a sink-or-swim moment in the relationship where you either step up and deal with the shit that happens, or you realize you can’t handle the intensity or uncertainty of it, and you gtfo. And... obviously, I chose the first option. Pretty much immediately after my first visit (as in, I was still on the train) Husband calls me, because his doctors are afraid that he has cancer. I go home, work exactly one day and turn the fuck around and go back so we can meet with the hematologist and find out whether he has bone cancer, Jesus fuck. Thankfully, it turned out that he didn’t; it’s something that comes up a lot because he doesn’t have a spleen and that, apparently, makes it look like you’re dying a whole lot. We ended up moving in together a month later because living at my parents was making me suicidal, which isn’t the greatest love story of all time, I know, but I had wanted to move out anyway and living with him was a much better option than random roommates.

I didn’t talk to my mother for... a month and a half, after I moved out. She kept trying to contact my friends on Facebook one day and I was ready to freak out on her for being controlling or something. Turns out, my biological father died. At the time, I was calm. Like, I wasn’t surprised - he had nearly died of alcohol-induced cardiac failure before I moved to the US, and it’s not like he had done anything to make his situation better - but it turns out I was actually in shock, I guess. The whole situation was fucking terrible; not because he died but because it kind of cemented that my only value to his side of the family was being “the only granddaughter” and not that they gave a shit about me as a person. They misgendered me in his obituary; they spelled my brother’s girlfriend’s name wrong.

I think the worst part is that they tried to make his celebration of life thing about how great he was as a person, though. And, like, I’m sorry, but great people don’t molest their children, or their children’s girlfriend. They don’t have sex in front of their children with their children’s physical abuser. They don’t make their teenage child in charge of being the sober adult when they want to go drinking. They don’t let their partner physically abuse their child when that child tries to get them both help for their drinking. They don’t trap their kid on a boat for a week with a creepy adult male stranger and freak the fuck out when that child has their first anaphylactic reaction to a novel food 20 kilometers from land or the nearest hospital. They don’t call that child on their birthday every year to remind them what a woman they are and always will be when they were the first fucking parent I came out to. 

Actually, no - the worst part of him dying was that I had to deal with his hellbeast girlfriend afterward, because apparently there was money for me in an RESP that he had never cashed, but all that got me was a shady financial representative who repeatedly wanted my mother and me to break the law over it. Like, my mom got her lawyer involved and everything, and once the legal letterhead came out the financial dude dropped off the face of the earth, stopped answering my calls and I never got my thousand pity dollars. 

And, like, things were okay for a little while after that because Husband and I were close with our roommates up until the point where it became clear that one of them had severe, untreated borderline personality disorder. I’ve lived with someone with BPD before; I’ve lived with a hoarder before. I was not prepared for the level of hoarding that this woman could produce. Or just, like, generally weird and shitty behavior and refusal to seek treatment for her condition. We tried everything we could think of, but ultimately we had to have secret meetings outside our house with our other roommate (who was dating her at the time) to figure out what to do with her. The things we found out... I’ve never wanted to genuinely harm a person before. Because she had been r*ping our roommate for months, and convincing them we didn’t want to be their friend, and using all their money because she wouldn’t go to work or apply for welfare or do the bare minimum required to be a human being. We had to get her removed by the police (who I do not advise contacting unless there is genuinely no other options) and the police acted like it was a typical roommate squabble even though we had fucking proof. So, anyway, we had to contact hell roommate’s parents and sister, and do all the packing to get her shit out of our house.

I will add that there were a few golden months right after hell roommate moved out. We got very close with remaining roommate, and it was nice, but then they started dating their current boyfriend and it just got... uncomfy for everyone somehow? They never outright said they were dating him, it was weird, one day they were like “Hey, I have a friend coming over!” and then he was just... there all the time? And they never told us they were dating? And, like, I’m happy for them, they’re great together and genuinely like each other, but it was weird. It was uncomfortable when we had to have the “We want to move out” conversation, too, because originally we had wanted to move to a bigger place with all of us, but ultimately we ended up keeping the apartment.

So that should have been fine, right? Especially since they moved in with one of Husband’s friends. Except that that friend turned out to be secretly awful and took advantage of everyone around them, and accused good roommate of being secretly racist and a bunch of other stuff that wasn’t true. (Trust me, good roommate would rather sever their left leg than do something that would hurt someone’s feelings.) And, like, I’m sorry, but you can’t use your master’s degree in social work to push around people who you know freeze during confrontations and have memory issues due to trauma, and then turn around and lead healing from trauma workshops. No. You’re a garbage human being who deserves to step on a thousand Lego. (Legos? Anyway.)

OH. Right. Before that, I had surgery. I had surgery and then pretty much the day we got home from that, the pandemic happened. At the beginning of it, good roommate and a woman who would later become one of our best friends came to stay with us because, again, horrific garbage pile of a human being in their house. Recovering from surgery took forever - I still don’t have feeling back 100% in my chest - but thankfully I was better enough by the time they moved to be somewhat helpful there. (They were incredibly smart and hired movers. We were pretty much there because we had just bought a car and could move breakable stuff.) 

Ugh. God. Sorry, I have to jump back to 2018 for a second, which is when I was diagnosed with OCD. Like, officially, I mean. It was probably pretty obvious to everyone who wasn’t me, but I always kind of thought that since I wasn’t on My Mom-level germophobic, there was no way I could have it. Uh! Turns out! Normal people don’t cry when a garbage bag that is clearly about to be taken outside touches the floor while they are putting their shoes on to take said garbage bag outside. So... I take pills now. And go to therapy. Which is very expensive. But, yeah, my symptoms were pretty fuckin’ bad then. And continued to be bad - like, bad enough that I had to quit my job in 2019 because my bosses weren’t taking it seriously enough or even listening to me. (It’s Mcdonald’s, it’s chill, they ruin or fire all their best employees.) 

Okay. Back to now. Pandemic! School! Suffering through all my pre-requisites so I can take actual interesting classes! Somewhere in there we started watching Twitch streams - I think it was because Husband found out Felicia Day streamed, and he loves her, and it kind of spiraled from there? But anyway, I somehow ended up part of this weird, delightful community that’s genuinely nice and non-trollish, and now I stream sometimes. Or attempt to stream. Or attempt to keep a regular schedule. It’s nice, though, to feel like there’s someone to hang out with when you pretty much can’t leave your house. There’s a sense of normality to being in a place at a specific time and seeing specific people. And Twitch has given me a lot of ideas on research topics I’d like to pursue in grad school. 

Like I said, it’s been a pretty mixed bag. There have been some really bad parts, but there’s a lot of good stuff that happened too. I just. I miss Old Me a lot, lately. I miss who I was before all the trauma. (I mean, obviously not all the trauma, because I don’t miss being a literal child, but like... 18-23 or so.) 

I think this might be the most I’ve written outside of a school context in actual years. Part of me keeps thinking about adding in APA formatting, but uh. You can’t really cite something when it’s just memories inside your own head. Anyway. I need to work on liking myself more, and working through some of the baggage that goes with trauma, and... I don’t know. It’s nice to have an outlet that’s not my husband or my cats. (Again, Husband is awesome, Husband is amazing, but we’re around each other 24/7 right now. I think he deserves a break sometimes.) 

So... Yep. Thanks, if you made it this far. I promise not all my posts are going to be like this. I just figured, if you were going to stick around, you probably deserved to know what happened while I was gone. 

[chrollo-tw]

Naruto Uzumaki+BPD

Naruto Uzumaki is such a misunderstood character, because many people judge him in the categories of normal, functioning person, even though he’s fucking insane, lol. I just saw someone calling him a whiny bootlicker and it pissed me off, so I had to make this post. I think everyone agrees that Naruto has adhd but I think it isn’t the only disorder he suffers from. By far I’ve encountered two people saying that they think Naruto may have bpd as well and I totally agree with them, so I decided to make a post about it. In short, if someone wouldn’t know, main symptoms of borderline personality disorder include: abandonment issues, extreme mood swings, unstable self image and relationships with other people, black and white thinking, tendency to perform risky behaviors etc. As a person with bpd myself I’ll make a rant about my own behaviors and symptoms I see in Naruto:

-bpd is the most often caused by a childhood trauma. In Naruto’s case it’s a lack of parents and ostracism he faced

-he experiences extremely intense emotions, he’s very impulsive, because he doesn’t control his emotions, they control him instead. that’s why he often acts without thinking it through.

-he feels like he constantly needs to prove himself, that he has to earn people’s love and acceptance. he’s desperate to get people’s attention.

-i always felt that i need to become a super famous person one day, because it’s the only way people are going to aknowlage me. does it remind you about something? naruto’s dream of becoming hokage is rooted in his insecurites, traumas and the compulsive need to be seen by others.

-crying and screaming like a small child when he is frustrated, random burts of anger. it’s all because he didn’t developed a healthy emotional patterns in his early childhood.

-he gets attached so quickly, he basically needs a one positive interaction to call someone a friend :p this is also a classic bpd behavior. someone is nice to me? wow, it means that we’re besties and i totally love them now!

-he idolizes people he cares about, especially when it comes to sasuke. sasuke is naruto’s favorite person. he means to him more than anyone. even though they’re other people in his life they don’t even come close to sasuke. he’s a center of naruto’s universe. all of his thoughts and feelings are focused on him. it’s so intense it causes an immense emotional pain. his happiness, his life, all of this depends on sasuke, because he’s this one person he puts above all the rest. naruto is even willing to die along with him, not considering the fact that his death could affect lives of many people. it also proves his fear of abandonment. he’ll do anything to bring sasuke back, bc he can’t stand the thought of being abandoned by the person he loves so much. it has a form of an unhleathy obsession, however what he feels is genuine. he just feels 100 times stronger than a normal person.

-there is a stereotype that people with bpd manipulate others. tbh, it’s true but not in a way people think. you see, we aren’t cunning manipulators who don’t care about other people’s feelings. we just have an emotional maturity of 5 year old kid and feel like crying and begging can solve something. it applies to naruto as well. for example: his behavior from the kage summit arc, especially the scene with raikage.

-naruto is hyper empathetic. he feels other poeple’s pain so intensively that it hurts him too. it is a bit of a self-centric behavior, sure. he projects his own pain onto them, that’s true. but it is still genuine. he relates and he wants to help them, because he does not want anyone to hurt like he does.

-he forgives people too easly, due to his black and white thinking. someone is either the best or the worst. for example: obito was an evil villian to him at first and after a few good things he did, he suddenly became the coolest guy ever, dattebayo.

-people with bpd are easly abused by others, because they have a hard time recognizing this kind of behaviors. even when they do, they forigve an abuser, after he starts acting decently again and often blame himself for what happened to them. it explains his relationship with jiraiya and how naruto still sees him as an amazing father figure, regardless of how awuflly he treated him sometimes.

-i believe naruto is depressed and suicidal. he’s just good at hiding it, because of his outgoing nature and the fact that he can be an extreme people pleaser. something i relate to as well :P

-when he is happy he is a walking, talking, breathing sunshine. the smallest things can make him feel like the happiest person alive and the smallest things can change his mood drastically again.

-he hates being ignored and gets jealous too easly

-he often participiates in risky behaviors. in contrast to crazy emotions there is emptiness. we feel so much and so deeply that when we don’t it feels wrong and unnatural, so we often do risky things like self harm, just to feel something. Remeber Naruto stabbing himself with a kunai? Or letting Karui beat his ass for no fucking reason?

Ok, i’ll stop here. I could discuss it for hours but this post is already long. I hope i explained it. I’m not a professional, i just based it on my own experience, so don't judge me, haha. This headcanon means so much to me, because people often associate bpd with some psychos and abusive yandere bitches, witch is seriously harmful and stigmatizing.

[mentalwordvomit]

Sorry this is incredibly long. Just a rant I need to get out:

Sometimes I think about my seemingly perfect Christian parents. Together for 30+ years, dad a ceo, mom a biochemist who just “decided” to become a stay at home mom and homeschool her bright children. Big fish in the little pond of their small town community. Hosting events for other CEOs, being part of their church, nonprofit board of directors, volunteering on the weekend, etc. And I am just enraged.

A whole county, knows me by my dad’s name. Lmfao. And for 20 years (the last time my dad brought it up was a year ago) it’s been my duty to make him look good. To be seen and not heard AND he specifically told me to lie about the things he did to me and my siblings and mom.

I am so fucking tempted to just fucking tell the community. It’s a small town, I could leak this information to their local newspaper and it would be the story of the decade for that stupid ass town.

Bro you TURNED ME INTO A NONFUNCTIONING SEX/DRUG/ALCOHOL ADDICT. Lmfao FUCK YOU!!!!! You ruined my life before it even started.

And the WORST PART is that you actually are different now. You don’t yell at my sisters so they think I’m a liar when I tell them what you did to me. You call me and you’re nice to me now. If I bring up the shit you’ve done you cry and apologize and FUCK I just want you to get angry and hurt me so badly I can have a final reason to distance myself from you and ruin your life. But I can’t. You’re just a fucking five year old you happens to be fifty. Your mom (my grandma) was a piece of shit who took out her trauma and narcissism on you cause you were a mistake and you never got the chance to be a well rounded person. Fuck and I pity you. I genuinely feel bad for you. And still you fucking ruined my chances of being a functioning human. I came to the realization yesterday that I might never be fulling self sufficient. My boyfriend had to undress and shower me the other day cause I just stopped working. WHAT THE HELL!!!!!! THATS NOT FAIR!!!!!!

You turned my mom from the victim to another abusive force in my life.

You turned my brother from a sweet sweet kid, who would stay up with me at night and cry if his little sisters got hurt into a fucking raging narcissist who only calls me to fight with me. He thinks I’m faking abuse for attention!!!! HE’s REPRESSED HIS MEMORIES SO MUCH HE DOESNT REMEMBER YOU ABUSING HIM. And instead he fucking hates me for mAkiNG iT aLL uP.

You lied to my thirteen year old sister to make me look bad. You told her I was so bad with money that I spent $10,000 in a month. I’ve never even SEEN $10,000 let alone spent it in month. I’ve told her countless times that’s not true but she just calls me a “known liar”. Not to mention our brother has tornmented her so much she now thinks she’s a bad person because she can’t hear God talking to her. WHAT THE HELL!!!!!!!

Thankfully my sixteen year old sister has come out of this mostly unscathed. I don’t know how. She disassociates a lot, and spends a lot of time online but she appears genuinely ok and happy and she’s told me so herself. Thank god THANK GOD she’s managed to stay safe.

FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU BOTH. You did the bare minimum as parents. We always had food, and beds. You helped pay for my college (thank you for that guilt money). But come on. You guys sucked ass at parenting and you still have two kids under the age of eighteen. Do I not warn you that you could accidentally turn those two into substance abusers and constantly turning from abusive relationship to abusive relationship? ESPECIALLY IF THEY DONT KNOW ANY BETTER. They’ve seen daddy scream at mommy. They’ve seen their parents storm out and leave for hours at a time. They’ve seen mom cry because she didn’t think dinner would be hot enough for dad when he got home and he might yell at her. They’ll think that’s normal and that’s who theyll end up with. Fuck you.

And worse yet you look DOWN on me. You told me you didn’t “believe in labels” when I told you I had BPD. But as soon as I showed up at home manic you freaked out and threatened to hold me captive until you could “figure out what to do with” me. Fuck off. FUCK OFF!!!! You’re not concerned when I tell you about my demon psychosis, you think “ew” or you tell me to my face “EVERYONE GETS CONFUSED SOMETIMES ITS NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL” fuck you!!!! I have legitimate problems deciphering reality because you gaslit me for 21 years. Fuck you.

Why did you give this to me? I don’t want it!!!!! Take it back. Please.

[intersex-ionality]

I think you're assuming too much good faith when you're stating that narcissism as a concept is distinct from NPD. Just because you don't conflate them doesn't mean that other people don't. People aren't just calling tyrants toxically selfish, they quite literally demanded #diagnoseTrump (with NPD, to prove he was unfit for office). Many of the "resources for survivors of narcissistic abuse" explicitly name-drop cluster B PDs as well, or list the DSM criteria of npd and bpd as signs of abuse.

Okay, I’ve decided that out of the anons I got yesterday, this one is probably a legitimate attempt to converse. You got the bad luck of being surrounded on all sides by death threats, hate mail, and general chicanery. While I’ve tried to calm myself down so that I can engage with you fairly, please try to forgive my if I get a bit acidic here.

Before we begin, I want to re-center the fact that this discussion was about whether the word “narcissist” should be dropped from the English language.

The “diagnose trump” movement was an ableist shitstorm. And that’s not the same thing as just using the word narcissist in casual conversation. The word came way before the diagnosis. The diagnosis is named after the word, not the other way around. And the word continues to have perfectly valid, non-diagnostic utility, as well as to simply be a common word.

Ableist movements that try to simultaneously claim that evil men are evil because they are sick, that sick people are all evil, and that being sick means you cannot be trusted, therefore anyone who cannot be trusted is sick? They’re conflating a harmless word, a harmless group of people, and massive scale war crimes. Something like “diagnose trump” was functionally trying ti both punish him for crimes, and simultnaeously, absolving him of any guilt for those crimes. It was a chaotic blame-shifting mess than hinged entirely on the idea that mentally ill people are monsters.

And a movement that hinges on calling the mentally ill all monsters, is abelist by definition.

But saying that those movements mean the word must be retired also conflates the word with the group of people.

This is not to suggest that the latter reinforces the former. Rather, both rely on inappropriately ascribing sameness to very different things.

And hey, maybe just making people stop saying “narcissist” would have some degree of positive impact. If you believe that, and you want to focus your activism towards that, I’m not going to be the one to stop you! Do as you like and as you will!

But it is not and will never be what I want to do with my own activism. I have other projects, goals, and actions that I am always going to prioritize over that.

If I spend my time saying, “you can’t ever say the word narcissist because it’s a medical term,” then when someone says sociopath instead, I need to now expand it to, “you can’t ever say the words narcissist or sociopath because […],” and so when someone says, psycho, I need to expand it again, “you can’t ever say the words sociopath, narcissist, or psycho […],” and when someone says, delusional I have to expand again, and when someone says crazy, I have to expand again. I will never stop expanding the list, and it will not only be a waste of my time, but it will become increasingly difficult to impossible for my audience to remember all the fine details of that ever-expanding list.

As such, I choose to focus on other kinds of writing. To say, “self-centeredness is a completely common, human trait that most people have, and it can drive people–especially people with a lot of power–to act in ways that are careless of the others around them, or the others living under their power. So, when someone is behaving carelessly, self-centeredly, that’s worth criticizing, worth stopping. People in power who make the conscious choice to harm others should have everything that gives them that power and enables that harm taken from them.

“In contrast, mentally ill people don’t choose to be mentally ill. And those compulsions can cause them to act in ways that are on the surface similar to the violent behaviour of tyrants and abusers, but those behaviours are not choices. They cannot be approached in the same way. Mentally ill people require the support to help them control their compulsions and to help them avoid situations which would set off those behaviours.

“Where evil and powerful people must have things taken to resolve the problem, mentally ill people must instead have things given–namely help and accommodation–to resolve the problem. Since these two groups require two very different approaches, one should not suggest that they are interchangeable. Rather than claiming people in power are incapable of being decent, acknowledge their choices as fucked up. Rather than suggesting mentally ill people are de-facto monstrous, acknowledge that they simply need accommodations that they often aren’t receiving, to help them deal with the internal stresses of mental illness.”

That way, I only have to make that explanation once, and it applies to every single use of mental illness as an insult. I can link back to it, and move on to other things, instead of repeating the same discussion for every new variation. It equips my audience with the skills necessary to examine any new slag or vocabulary that pops up and make an informed choice about the implications of those words without me needing to make a new bullet point and add it to a list of inviolate rulings. People who look at that explanation, who come to understand it, will make their own choices about what language to use.

But most of them will shy away from using obviously diagnostic language such as “psychopathy,” and will also has the tools to differentiate between harmless uses of overlapping terms, from manipulative attempts to conflate a group of mentally ill people with a group of violent criminals. They’ll be better equipped to understand the difference between someone saying, “my ex-boyfriend was so narcissistic, always getting on my case about my clothes/figure/hair making him look bad, so we broke up,” and saying, “my mother beat the shit out of me any time I did something that disappointed her; but hey, you know how narcissists are.”

For me, that’s more appealing, efficient communication and the more appealing final goal. It lets me focus on other things, like considering angles and details I had not previously considered on old subjects, or learning about new subjects.

That’s not going to be the case for everyone or every situation. Sometimes I don’t feel like making a big old explanation, so I ask the people around me, “as a favour, could you not complain about ‘The Borderlines at Work,’ and instead just talk about, IDK, whatever specific crap they pulled, instead?”

But this blog is a public space. I’m a private citizen, but I make these posts to have a public discussion on a public platform. So I write them for a public audience. I don’t want to ask personal favours of that audience. They have no reason to grant those favours, even if I did ask.

Different audiences, along with different situations, require different tactics.

[ineedrelationshipadvice]

Hi, I have a maybe strange problem - I keep having the urge to check the social media of my boyfriend's ex. This is not a jealousy/suspicion thing. For context, she was abusive towards him. I think I am trying to understand how someone can be like this. I have resisted for many months by rationalising that it's unhealthy and a waste of time, but the urge itself persists. How can I stop this urge? I'm not sure exactly why it exists. Thanks :)

I think this is a normal interaction. Is it healthy? That's a good question. Is it a waste of time? Most definitely. But I don't think this is an inherently bad thing that you're doing.

You're in a unique scenario. You are with your partner, you probably think they're pretty awesome, and you've probably heard quite a number of really awful things that this person has done. If this is the first time you've heard of someone being abusive to someone in your immediately sphere of influence, or if this is the worst example of it that you've seen in your personal life, it can be a bit shocking and confusing. How can someone have been SO HORRIBLE to someone I care about so much? Lots of thoughts can run through your head. Is it something my boyfriend did that made her act that way, and maybe I'm missing a red flag? Is she just that horrible of a person in general? If so, what made her so horrible? What is a red flag that I can look for in her behavior so I can see abusive behavior from people in my life in the future?

You said the right word in your message: rationalizing. This is you attempting to rationalize how an abuser can continue on in their life despite the terrible things they've done. You're trying to rationalize how this was even possible. And that's fine, because it means you're thinking critically. And I think everyone does this from time to time when they see something so GALLING that they just can't understand; your brain goes brrr at the very concept about how awful something is.

How can you stop the urge? Again, I don't think there's inherently anything WRONG with scratching this itch. You're not doing anything as long as you're not harassing anyone; if you're just looking on from afar and studying this like a zoologist of abusive exes, then that's not a bad thing. Just make sure you stay uninvolved and don't interact with this ex, and also don't talk about it at all with your partner, because they should have no more contact beyond anything he personally wants to engage in.

That being said, if you believe that your obsessive tendencies to analyze this ex is becoming problematic, then yeah, it's probably best to stop. How do you recognize if you've gone too far?

Are you losing sleep over this? If so, stop.

Are you becoming angry or frustrated over things she is doing? If so, stop.

Is this affecting your mood any time you engage with her? If so, stop.

Do you have better things to do? If so, stop, at least until you're finished with those things.

Another thing you can do is considering writing a small essay for yourself about their behavior, and what you've learned. It's fine to rationalize things in your head. But putting that shit on paper and properly trying to logic the whole thing out can help you put some finality to the "research" you've been doing, and what you've actually learned from the whole thing.

If you want to continue this analysis, just make sure you're setting limits upon yourself. It's fine to be curious, but don't devote time to this stupid person. Because you're a busy bee, and have plenty of things that are way more important to worry about that are not a crappy person from your partner's past. But again, don't feel weird for trying to rationalize things as you're doing.

To show you how to write an essay about your experiences analyzing someone, to show you that what you're doing isn't actually that strange, and mostly for my own selfishness, I'm going to write a brief essay below about a time where I did exactly what you are doing to someone who affected me in a similar way. You don't have to read it if you don't want, but it can show you how obsessive I got over it, and also is an example of how trying to force that shit into words through summary and recollection can help you put the situation to rest so you can move on with your life.

_________

An example from my own life. I wanted to teach in Japan. I applied for the program that would allow me to do so, and almost got in, but I eventually got turned down. I then heard, a year later, that a random person got into the same program, at the time when I would've been hired. They were kicked out of the program summarily after. Why? How did they get into a program I really wanted to get into, yet I didn’t and they did; furthermore, how were they KICKED OUT of the prestigious program I wanted to be apart of? How could they have been so irresponsible?

Turns out that they had extreme schizophrenia and BPD (two major health conditions that are supposed to be taken into account when applying for the program), and while in Japan working at their elementary school, they decided to go off their meds. When they went off their meds, they decided they had a crush on a co-worker, and started dating them. They got into an argument one day, and it upset her. She decided to go to her partner’s house and sit on the porch until he made up with her. He obviously found out about this after he got off of work, and noped the fuck out of there, because he was being actively stalked at his home. The police were called, and the girl called the police "fascists" and accused them of being "pedophiles" and "raping her" because she was sitting in a manner where her full-ass pussy was exposed because she wasn't wearing underwear under her skirt (you can't make this shit up). Obviously, the cops called her job, and she got deported.

I was aghast. Here I am, imminently qualified for this job, but she got it instead, despite her health conditions. Then, not only was she irresponsible in the position, but she literally stalked someone, got reported to police, lost her job, and deported from the country. How could I not get this job but she could? What did she do right that I didn't, because everything I'm seeing, she did many obvious things very wrong.

So, like you, I irrationally followed her on social media. Instead of going home to USA (where apparently her family had disowned her), she went from Japan to Russia, making her way to Moscow, and then to central Europe where she apparently had some friends. This led her to Germany, where she got in trouble with the police for illegal substances and being intoxicated in public. She bounced from Germany to The Netherlands, where she found a place to live. Stayed there a bit, getting high on all manner of drugs, until she apparently got kicked out of her friend's place. She lived homeless for awhile, until the police picked her up, and sent her to a sanatorium. She claimed she was being unlawfully held against her will, even though she was literally ranting and raving on social media about all manner of racist, homophobic, and sexist shit, pooping on the floor, refusing to wear clothing or cooperate with the doctors, clearly off her meds, completely lost to the world, only occasionally having lucid moments during 12+ hour livestreams from her sanatorium.

She was eventually let out and deported, but this time she was forced to go back to her home in Georgia, USA. She was told to report to the local police department, and then to the doctor to renew her medication (which the sanatorium prescribed her). She got to the USA, threw her medication in the trash (she had apparently been faking taking the medication for some time), and went to her friend's house in Atlanta. There, she got in a fight, and got kicked out. She was homeless for a long time, but instead of letting that get her down, she was screaming racist things at black people in the public parks, and somehow attended MomoCon even though she said she was broke and had no money??? She got taken to another sanatorium at some point, was eventually released, and then somehow got inducted into a master's program at the local university (even though she still had no home or money). And that's where I last checked in on her.

What did I learn from that fuckin' wild story? Because you probably lost the point somewhere halfway through, as did I. The reason I got so obsessive about this chick is because I was upset that she got a job and I didn't. So through all that rationalizing I did what did I actually LEARN? 

Well, I learned that she's crazy, obviously. And I learned that I was jealous of her for getting the job I thought I deserved, and was watching her ongoing failures in some weird manner of spite. And I was also just flabbergasted, because it was like watching a trainwreck, and I couldn't look away, because I've never seen someone like her bounce around between so many crazy adventures, failing every step along the way, and still somehow succeeding? And how did she get all these prestigious decisions despite being homeless, off her meds, and doing terrible things? Likely because she lied about her qualifications and never got caught in her lies. It was a time.

[andonutty]

a fool’s guide to coping w bpd

ok so for the record im NOT a mental health professional, im just... someone with bpd who’s coping and thought i’d share my tips. i think making a post like this will a) reach more people, and b) help my friends more than me just offering advice when they come to me for help. bpd affects everyone differently, and i can’t claim to totally understand the struggles of everyone who has it, but if you’re struggling right now and you just don’t know what to do or where to go, i gotchu fam. so without further ado... a step-by-step guide for coping with bpd

tw for mentions of emotional manipulation, self-harm, and suicide. none of it is in-depth, but i figured i’d warn anyway.

1) decide that you want to cope in a healthier way.

this seems kinda strange as a first step, but to me it really is the most important step. living with bpd all my life and being in therapy since i was 10 taught me a lot about willingness. saying “i want to be healthier” sounds like a no-brainer, but it’s actually really difficult. you have to sit yourself down and ask yourself: do i really want to fundamentally change the way i think about situations, about myself, and about other people? am i willing to work on this, even though it’s hard? and am i willing to give up on the unhealthy coping mechanisms i’ve been clinging onto?

i’m being totally genuine here: it took me years to get to the point where i could say: yeah, i really, really want to stop emotionally manipulating people to get what i want. i’m so sick of basing my self-worth on what other people say and do. i’m so scared that i am my bpd, and that there’s nothing else inside me; i don’t want it to be that way anymore. i want to have healthy and fulfilling relationships with other people. i want people to stop being afraid of me. i want to love myself. i really and truly do. and only when you come to that (awful, gut-wrenching) revelation can you actually start helping yourself. if you’re not at that point, that’s totally fine. i had to go through a hell of a lot to get there, and i understand not everyone is there. i wish everyone who can’t make this decision yet the best, but i really don’t think this post will be the miracle cure you’re hoping for. you can still read it for sure! i’m just saying that this first step was an extremely necessary one for me, and the next steps get a lot easier once you make this decision.

okay, so you’ve come to the realization that you really, really want to learn some new coping mechanisms. where do you start?

2) look into dbt (dialectical behaviour therapy).

ok. i’ve been going through dbt for a while, and i swear to god, it’s good. dbt was made for people with bpd, and it’s different from cbt in that the skills aren’t just cognitive. there are four sections of dbt skills: mindfulness, emotion regulation, distress tolerance, and interpersonal effectiveness. it may seem overwhelming, but all these skills are very practical and don’t just focus on “hey you’re thinking this? stop it.“ if you have access to a counsellor or therapist, ask them about dbt. if you don’t have access, try to find some stuff you can work on online. i did a quick search and found three sites (one, two, three).

if you have a therapist or counsellor that you can talk to about this, feel free to skip the rest of this section (or read it so you can surprise your therapist with your knowledge). for those of you who don’t have someone to guide you through this, i’m aware all these skills seem incredibly daunting. my recommendations for beginner skills are the following:

PLEASE skill, or reducing vulnerability to emotions (under emotion regulation)

nonjudgmental stance (under mindfulness)

stop, tip, distraction, or improve skills (under distress tolerance)

dear man or myths about interpersonal effectiveness (under interpersonal effectiveness)

reducing emotion vulnerability was the first skill i started working on. when i was first diagnosed with bpd, i was working at a restaurant without any meal breaks. i’d have meltdowns at work and after work, and it took this skill for me to realize that i needed to pack a snack or eat right after getting off my shift, because i was most vulnerable to my emotions when i was hungry or tired. when you understand how food, sleep, exercise, mood-altering substances, etc. all play into how vulnerable you are to your emotions, you can start thinking more clearly about situations and you can start coping ahead to reduce that vulnerability ahead of time. you’d be surprised how much this one helps.

nonjudgmental stance is probably one of the most helpful skills i learned. one of my therapists put it this way: if bpd is an allergy, then invalidation is the allergen. meaning: the thing that’s going to irritate your bpd and trigger problem behaviours is invalidation of emotions. it’s shame, and judgment. everyone judges themselves (which isn’t really healthy, but it is a part of our societal structure), but for us? that shit hurted. i can’t count the amount of times that i’ve been crying and then thought something like “god, you’re just so pathetic“ and started crying even harder. our impulsive behaviour and the decisions we regret almost always stem from a core feeling of being invalidated. remember that time that you were talking about your feelings to someone and they seemed dismissive, so you decided you hated them with every fiber of your being? yep, me too. that’s us reacting to invalidation. in general, we don’t really validate ourselves. quite the opposite! most of the time, we tear ourselves down and expect others to fill that void for us. (a lot of people do this, but it’s really problematic for us in particular because of our generally self-destructive behaviour.) so learning to be compassionate with ourselves is a really important step to take. if you like meditations, look up loving kindness and self-compassion meditations. rain is also a really good meditation to do, but i think it can be really painful to do when you’re just starting out. i’ve linked it at the bottom if you want to check them out, but try not to overload yourself! just stick to one you really like.

stop, tip, distract, and improve are all really good skills to start out with because they’re skills you use for when your skills run out. if you find yourself really struggling with crisis situations a lot, these are good to start out with. they’re specifically meant to calm you down, to get your emotions and adrenaline to a manageable level. if you struggle a lot with engaging in problem behaviour under stress, this one is golden. i used to struggle a lot with substance abuse, and these skills were lifesavers. instead of going right for the substance, i’d use stop. i’d distract myself for a while, surf the urge until the wave of emotion passes. then i could use skills like please by getting something to eat, or dear man by addressing the interpersonal problem with a level head. and on that note...

dear man / myths about interpersonal effectiveness, which is a great skill if your main problem is about asking for help or establishing boundaries. i used to have a lot of problems about asking for things properly (hence my habit of emotionally manipulating others to get what i wanted or needed), because i felt that if someone said no to me, i wouldn’t be able to handle it. or that people would hate me if i asked for things, or that i should be able to handle things on my own. in a way, it felt easier to rely on making others feel bad for not doing more for me rather than to ask outright. these myths are hard to unlearn, but it’s a good place to start if your main trigger is about boundaries or asking for help.

ok, so you’ve started working on a skill. a skill. don’t burn yourself out here, it’s okay (and more productive) to just focus on one instead of trying to change yourself overnight. and on that note...

3) be kind. remember change won’t happen overnight, and keep going.

this one is difficult, because... like, it’s not gonna be easy. i remember i used to have meltdowns and think, “no. i’m tired of being skillful. i’m tired of being the bigger person. i’m sick of this.” and that’s why the first step is so important, because you’re going to need that resolve to say, “hey, i haven’t engaged in my problem behaviour for so long. let’s not start now. i know it’s frustrating, i know it’s so easy to go back to what we know, and at the same time, i want to be better. i know i can be better.”

and even if you do engage in that problematic behaviour again (which, let’s face it, you probably will, because no one is perfect and everyone messes up, and that’s 100% okay), you need to remember this and be compassionate with yourself. everyone messes up. everyone says things they don’t mean to. everyone does things that they regret. everyone falls into old patterns from time to time. what’s important here is to stop beating yourself up over it and start doing something different. if you went back to self-harm, if you started calling up everyone you know and threatening to kill yourself, whatever it is — don’t conflate yourself with the behaviour. instead, take ownership of it. make amends with those you hurt instead of running away or self-sabotaging, think about what happened and try to make sure it doesn’t happen again. slip-ups happen to everyone. literally everyone. so please try not to be hard on yourself if it happens. be disciplined, but not harsh. i promise, beating yourself up over mistakes is only going to hurt you and everyone around you.

conclusion

if you’ve read this far, thank you so much for doing so. i know that when you’re in the thick of it, it’s so hard to imagine yourself having a future, to imagine that you can make friends, keep people around, be anything but the sum total of your perceived failures. but you can. it’s difficult, believe me, it’s difficult, but it’s possible. and i believe you can do it. and trust me, there’s no way you’re going to disappoint me, no matter how much you feel like you’ve fucked up. if you can, just try it out, and i’ll be cheering you along every step of the way.

more resources, if you’d like them:

in general, this site is pretty good for handouts. and again, here are the three sites i linked above (one, two, three) that i found through a cursory search. 

also, look into unhelpful thinking styles if you want. this is the worksheet i have, and it’s genuinely really useful. i keep it in my workbook and look at it to remind myself of when i’m unintentionally using them.

russ harris, who talks a lot about living a fulfilling life. here are some videos of his that i really like (internal struggles, the choice point, the struggle switch).

jon kabat-zinn and mbsr (mindfulness-based stress reduction). seriously if you’re into mindfulness this guy is so good. 9 attitudes in particular is a video i personally really like.

the aforementioned rain meditation, by tara brach. this one is all about learning what you need and providing it for yourself. it’s part of the larger loving kindness and self-compassion umbrella.

kristen neff has a website with self-compassion exercises, as well as books and such that she’s published. if she’s not your style, search up loving kindness or self-compassion meditations and i’m sure you’ll find other people that you might vibe with more.

i know brené brown deadass exploded in popularity a while back, but there’s a reason she did. all of her stuff about shame is incredible. here are two of her ted talks that hit different for me personally (listening to shame, the power of vulnerability)

also, if you can... maybe invest in a dbt skills workbook. i use the actual marsha linehan dbt skills training book, which can be a little complicated, but it works for me because my therapist is there to explain it. i’ve heard good things about the dbt skills workbook by matthew mckay, but i’ve never used it personally so i can’t attest to how comprehensive it is. if you can go to like, an actual bookstore and flip through the pages, that’d be ideal. but since we’re in a pandemic, idk how feasible that is. i’m not really a self-help book kind of person, but i’d recommend authors like pema chödrön, brené brown, kristen neff, and russ harris (and jon kabat-zinn? does he publish books? if he does then i rec them). if you’re in a post-secondary institution, try checking your school’s library! i’ve found a few books there. also, public libraries tend to have some of these books too. so if you don’t have the money to actually go out and buy these books, i’d suggest borrowing books from libraries and photocopying the pages.

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

What am I now? What am I now? What if I'm someone I don't want around? I'm fallin' again I'm fallin' again I'm fallin'

-’Falling’ by Harry Styles

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dRDKoMcgavw

I’ve seen and read a lot of fanfictions where it’s told from the POV of one character and that inspired me to write this but... it’s not happy... much... and Harry Styles’ song just also inspired me to write out this fairly sad piece because that song is such a tearjerker man..

I like to this of this as an inside look of the witch's mind and thoughts as well as her opening up about her issues.

WARNING: This small piece contains mentions and/or references to suicide and intrusive thoughts. Reader discretion is advised.

Interestingly... I've come to realize that Amy's behavior makes sense if you know what Borderline Personality Disorder is and what the symptoms are. Many of which she actually checks out for. I study a lot of psychology in my spare time and to my surprise, Amy ended up showing some symptoms even though I swear to God it wasn’t my intention, it just kinda... ended up like that.

For more info or insight on BPD: 

https://www.yahoo.com/lifestyle/comic-perfectly-shows-jealousy-looks-232343129.html

https://psychcentral.com/lib/loving-someone-with-borderline-personality-disorder/

Amy’s POV:

Apparently most children get their quirks at the age as early as 3 or 4, but when I was 4 years old I didn’t get mine. 5, 6,7,8,9, still nothing. That was it, I guess that just meant I was going to be quirkless forever, on the bright side at least I would be part of a minority that I could one day fight for I thought. If I’m gonna be quirkless I would own it. That’s what I told myself.

But then one day when I was 9 years old I woke up over my bed, floating around my room until my mom came in to make sure I came down safely. She told me everything, how her side of the family has a bloodline of witches that dates all the way back in the 1800’s and one of my great great great grandmothers or something had the same genetic affliction. Just like that everything became different, when I thought it was awesome at first, started to learn just what I am and who I am, and the history of all the great witches of the past. Slowly but surely I discovered more powers about myself, more powers I would one day learn.

Everything was brilliant… until the following year my parents were killed by witch hunters. Dad wasn’t even a witch, he was just an ally, he loved my mom and I more than anything, and they killed him for that. Worst part? When the heroes got to me before I could get barbecued, they didn’t even kill them.

I suppose that’s where it all begins though, after that they decided I wasn’t going to be safe enough here and that my new powers that were manifesting would be too much for them to handle. And because they didn’t want to deal with me, they called on the other witches on the other side of the world. From then on out, I had to leave my old life behind, my best friend and his family who treated me like family. I went from orphaned, to abandoned, to a bloodbath. 

As soon as I got to New Orleans everything else was just as unsafe. Asshole frat boys, an actual Minotaur man, fucking zombies, voodoo witches and of course MORE witch hunters trying to kill us. And also an immortal racist, a Frankenstein Frat boy, a tongueless butler who has tea parties and sex with dead teenage girls, a wicked voodoo deity and an old, axe-wielding serial killer that was once a ghost in Robichaux. Yup. But that’s just a perfectly average day at Robichaux, and a perfectly average day in my fucked up life.

At least I had my sisters like Zoe, Madison and Misty, and Ms. Cordelia and how can I forget Ms. Myrtle? That woman needs to be a fashion icon and I will do justice by her and make sure the world knows who she was. And even Ms. Fiona. The bitch who used to be in charge was pretty badass, I mean if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be the strong, independent witch bitch I am today. Yeah I have a ton of issues because of the borderline emotional abuse she dished out on me and the other witches but still...

My new sisters were by far the least terrible part of the entire thing. Which is why it still breaks my heart to think about how some of them died, because not all of them came back... 

Through all of that I kept myself up though. I learned how to fight back and fight alongside my sisters. I learned how to be strong, how to rely on myself and my sisters because we knew that no hero was going to come to our rescue. I had to be strong, I had to have thick skin and an elastic heart. Yeah that’s right I referenced Sia, she’s an awesome singer, just like Stevie Nicks. Amazing women, inspiring...

Sorry, getting off-topic. Anyhoo, I’ve realized though that it’s better that way. Being with the witches showed me the truth of the world, how the world looks at us and how it wants us to look. We have to be perfect, we have to be charming, we have to smile and look pretty. Why? Because the heroes have to be there to save the cute and pretty damsel in distress so they can feel powerful. 

This idea of heroes and villains is really all just bullshit... all of these villains I’ve seen thus far... they’re kittens compared to the evils and horrors I’ve seen here. It’s not just New Orleans, but I mean Bloody Face was a monster back in the 50′s, then the man who made the Hotel Cortez, he was pure evil and still haunts that hotel to this day. James Patrick March. Evil. Pure Evil and he murdered just to feel something, innocent people who didn’t deserve it. Dr. Arthur Arden, a.k.a Hans Gruper, the Nazi doctor who hid under a disguise and performed horrifying experiments on humans in the insane asylum of Briarcliff. Instead of helping those poor people, he just murdered, butchered and tortured them for his sick experiments. So many lives ruined, mutilated. The victim’s last moments were nothing but pain and a desperate wish for death until he put a bullet through their heads.

Murders, monsters, all of them. They all murdered for fun, and then even normal people were evil, the ones who valued their pride and selfish desires over anything and destroyed innocence itself just to achieve that. 

Those are the real evil people. All For One? Overhaul? Shigaraki? They couldn’t slice a loaf of bread with the amount of sharpness they had all put together. 

Those ‘villains’ that All-Might and my friend Midoriya have fought thus far are nothing compared to the monsters I’ve seen. They’re all a bunch of kitty cats, but I’ve seen and known killers. Real killers. Real monsters. 

A woman from an old asylum once said that ‘all monsters are human’ and she was right, because the monsters I’ve seen were humans. The worst of humanity and I've seen it all. What heroes choose to ignore though is that it's in all of us, and that those who choose not to do shitty things is what makes a hero apoarently. What a crock of shit...

But I guess monsters are just another thing that the heroes like to glamorize so they can fight and save the world from what they deem as the real monsters of the world. When I showed that I wasn’t a sweet and gentle girl as he believed, Midoriya looked at me like I was a monster, which just proved to me that he’s a part of what I’m fighting, and that that’s what this society wants, a good little girl who does good things all for the sake of this society. And I’m a monster because I’m not a good little girl, my sisters aren’t good little girls, no, we’re not a bunch of sad girls who are just waiting to be rescued, we’re witches. We’re not giving those motherfuckers the satisfaction of saving the poor damsels in distress because we’re not, we’re powerful and we don’t owe them anything, not a thanks, not a hug, not a flash of our tits and especially not a goddamn smile that men just love to see on women. 

Men like that are afraid of women like us, they’re afraid of women who aren’t afraid to get ugly and dirty our hands with blood. Afraid of women like me. And I learned how to fight, I was able to keep myself flying, because that was my first power, flight. I can fly based on how I feel, or on how much willpower I put into it. My power comes from my emotions and no fucking misogynist can tell me my emotions make me weak because I can do anything I want based on how I feel and how much willpower I have.

Lately though, it’s been nothing but willpower, as the older I get the more I realized that I’m not loved in this place. I wouldn’t be missed if I disappeared and I know it. I know it. But in life young people like me have to keep going even though we’re also gifted with the power of being painfully aware of all the bullshit that adults try to tell us is the truth, but we know better than that, they just don’t get that we’re not as stupid as we look. Although the sad part is, some of us ARE and they buy into the bullshit and try so hard to be the perfect little shitheads these assholes want us to be.

I can’t do that though, that’s not me. I wish it was sometimes though, who knows, maybe if I was that kind of person then maybe I would be liked by everyone, but that’s not me. Maybe that’s why I won’t be missed, maybe that’s why I’m forcing myself to fly every damn day just to make it through. Forcing myself to pretend that everything’s fine and smiling like a fucking idiot just to make everyone happy and not let them be miserable as me, but this shit’s hard, it’s hard to act like you’re okay when you’re not.

And I’m too aware of this shit, too aware to be truly ignorant and I call people out if I think they sound ignorant. So I’m not surprised when they end up leaving me or trying to tell me to be nicer and that I shouldn’t be blaming anybody or anything just because I’m a cynical and miserable bitch. Yeah, I’m a bitch but I can’t help it. At least I know my shit, I’d rather be a miserable bitch than an ignorant one.

Yet here I am, constantly miserable, constantly thinking and constantly aware that I’m nobody’s favorite person.

That’s just it. I’m not surprised by anything, because everything I do, everything I say, there’s always something bad behind it, that’s the idea I give everyone. I know it, it shouldn’t bother me but apparently, I can’t bring myself to fly because I’m happy, because I’m not. And then there’s always something that shows up in my life, something to make me feel some type of way, not a good way though. I can’t help the way I react to some things, I wish I could though, a normal person would be able to just go out and live life the way everyone else does. But I’m not normal. I never was. And every single day I’m reminded of it, every single day I remind myself it.

Every time I fly it’s through willpower alone, not because I’m so excited that my feelings can make me fly. No, lately I haven’t been able to feel a goddamn thing, and ironically that’s what hurts the most.

For someone who’s first gift was flight and for someone who’s powers allow them to fly, I’m just… falling. 

Constantly, every time I fly, I just feel like I’m falling as the weight of this world just keeps beating me down until one day I eventually hit rock bottom.  I don’t expect anyone to catch me, not even my loved ones. I feel like I’ve hurt them enough. Everyone I love, I end up hurting in some way because I’m just a jealous, overzealous, toxic and cynical bitch. I don’t deserve them and they don't deserve this. All this poison, all this anger and problems, I don't want that for them.

So I don’t tell them that I’m falling when I’m flying. If I’m gonna fall, I’m not going to drag them down with me.

Rock bottom almost doesn’t sound like a bad idea at this point. There are times where I get so frustrated with everything, so angry and so pissed off that I need to get away from everything and everybody and I let myself fly upwards. I just fly as high as possible, so high that I’m in the clouds and I can no longer see the rest of the world beneath me. 

God... sometimes I get so high that I just want to stay up there. I want to stay feeling so high and so powerful like nothing can stop me. I’m invincible when I’m up so high. And yet that honestly terrifies me too, because when I’m up so high I forget everything, even the things and the people I don’t want to forget. How could I ever want to forgive some of the people I love the most? 

When I remember them, that’s when I regain my vision and I start to see how high I’ve gotten, and how far it is to go back down. Everyone can see me and they can see how far I’ve gone, even up that high I can still see their disappointed faces and that just no longer makes me feel so invincible anymore. Because then I start to think ‘here I am’ up on top and yet I’m all alone up here. 

Sometimes when I’m up that high is when I start to think about just letting go of the willpower and letting myself fall from such a distance, close my eyes and just let everything go. Let the gravity just bring me back down until I hit the ground.

 And then I wonder, would that matter at all? Would it be better that way?

But as usual, I can never think of a fucking answer… other than that I should probably just go back home because I have people waiting for me. Ashlen, Hitoshi, Katsuki, Madison... I hope they're not too worried about me... I know they want to see me come home even though I’m the last person I want around, and I honestly don’t know how they want me around. 

Yet I guess it’s enough to make myself fly a little more, just to go back to them, because in the end I feel a little bit of something when I’m with them. They’ve moved my wicked heart, even when I think I’m better off dead, they make me fly. 

I don’t know if I saved myself, or if it’s them who saved me, because frankly it’s too late to save me, but I’m still here. I’m still here so I can go home and see them.

God... I haven’t been home for a while, but I’m on my way back home, I know they’re waiting for me, probably worried about me too.

Ash, Toshi, Katsu, Mads... You guys don’t have to worry, I’m coming home now. After all, I wouldn’t miss seeing your smiles for the world. 

[candaceperry81]

Fast Day 1: Why I’m Fasting

To understand why I’m fasting (and now writing a blog about it), it probably makes the most sense to start with how this blog came to be. I originally started it in 2014. There’s still posts from back then here, but I’ve hidden the rest because they were more raw than this one & it’s time for a fresh start. Apparently, 6 years ago I was going through the same thing I’m going through now: Depressed because I was broke, lonely, & single. Since then, there’s been some ups, but mostly a bunch of downs. 

The depression started around age 10, but I’d say it got serious around 2006 when I graduated from college & found myself without a group of friends to hang out with on a regular basis, we’re talking I didn’t even have people to hang out with once a month. In 2008 it worsened because I was unemployed. I then went in & out of work for years, not reaching financial stability until late 2019. All those years of working my butt off to climb out of financial ruin took a toll on my social life & I found myself in depression again last year due to the social isolation.

Some years ago, I think around 2008 or 2009, I remember walking into Sanctuary Church in Savannah, depressed because I had been single for so many years. A girl walked up not knowing anything about how I was feeling in that moment about my singleness & said God had told her to walk over & share that He wanted me to start praying for my husband. I never really did until many years later, mostly because I was afraid that if I prayed & God didn’t provide, my spirit would be irreparably crushed.

Instead of praying, I did everything else I could think of to change my relationship status. I went on hundreds of one-on-one dates & several speed dates. I tried both paid & free dating sites. I hired a dating coach, a matchmaking company, & a company that will message people for you. I spent literally thousands of dollars in 2019, even though I knew deep down I was wasting my time & money because I’m looking for a needle in a haystack. 

I DID finally begin praying for a husband at some point, I think around 2015. But my prayers haven’t been consistent & I’ve definitely never fasted because I’ve felt weird about it. No one talks about praying for a spouse and when you say you are, people look at you funny. But why shouldn’t we pray for a spouse? We pray for everything else, and who you marry is one of the most important decisions you’ll ever make.

Over the last few months my depression has grown to the point I started having suicidal thoughts again. Though I’ve had depression since childhood, it’s been years since I’ve been that down. I think they’re this strong now because I’m just plain tired. I’m tired of tired of finding a sliver of hope only for it to be crushed again. It’s just been too many years of fighting this battle.

I know many would say, “You’ll only be happy with God, focus on that” or, “You need to get healthy before you look for a spouse.” I agree to an extent; part of why I’m here is because I tried to do this on my own. However, these same hyper-Spiritual people need to also look at these verses:

“A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken.” Ecclesiastes 4:12

“The Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.” Genesis 2:18

If Scripture is what we’re to follow, there are no verses that say, “It’s good to be alone & Jesus is all you need,” in fact, the Bible says the opposite, and based on what I’ve read on social media regarding this coronavirus self-isolation period, most people can’t even handle 2 weeks of it. Multiply that feeling times 20, and you have a small picture of what it’s like to be me because I’ve lived like this for most of my life. Some of it’s because it’s very hard to find people who treat others the way they want to be treated, the other part is because my BPD causes me to overreact when I’m mistreated.

Currently, I’m only about 70% sure Jesus/Christianity is real. So this fast might be a total waste of time. But in a last ditch effort to find answers & get out of this cycle hopefully for good, I decided this morning to go on what I’m calling a fast/hunger strike (because I’m a little angry at God for allowing me to be isolated this long).

When I logged onto Instagram this morning, I saw this verse on someone’s story & it confirmed this decision: 

"But Jesus took him by the hand, and lifted him up; and he arose. And when he had came into the house, his disciples asked him privately, why could we not cast him out? And He said unto them, This kind can only come forth by prayer & fasting." -Mark 9:27-29

After I closed my accounts down, I got online to watch my church’s sermon for today & it confirmed this decision too:

The verses that really stood out to me in that message were these:

“Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down form heaven. Your ancestors ate manna and died, but whoever feeds on this bread will live forever.” John 6:57-58

My soul has been spiritually hungry for awhile as my faith has gone up & down when everything else went up & down. If Scripture is real, then this is why my life has been so full of death, because I gave up on Scripture.

As far as what to do during this fast goes, these were also in that sermon:

“Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful.” Joshua 1:8

“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things.” Philippians 4:8 

The 70% of me that believes God/Christianity/Jesus is real says that 1) The Spirit of Poverty, Rejection, Abandonment, & Isolation has been over me my entire life & I need to pray, fast, listen to worship, & read Scripture to get it out, and 2) It’s not a coincidence that I was reminded of all these Scriptures TODAY, right after deciding to fast this morning. 

The 30% of me that says I’m wasting my time also says how can any of this change when I can’t even leave the house & God might not even be listening or care anyway because He didn’t care the first time I trusted Him with my love life?

But there’s still a little hope inside that He cares & one day I won’t be so alone and if I’m to stay alive, I can NOT take this cycle anymore, it’s time for something to change. So, here we go. I’m thinking 30 day fast as of now, but it might end up being longer.

[nonhumanwithin]

Advice for confused kin

(Note: I’m not fictionkin or any other type of unusual kin, just a normal otherkin, so I’ll be talking about my own experiences and not really fictionkin or the like. I wish I could help, I’m sorry!)

This is more centered around my personal experiences, but I do hope it helps others as well. Writing out your thoughts can sometimes help clear your mind c:

So, I’ve struggled with figuring out my kintypes for a long time. I’ve known I’m otherkin for almost 9 years now, and yet I still struggle from time to time with my identity. This is mostly due to my mental illnesses (BPD and CPTSD, if you’re curious), which I know I’m not the only otherkin struggling with. I know of a few others who are adults and have been in the community for some time who struggle with finding out their identity. So, if you’re like me, or maybe more new to the community or younger, either way, I hope this helps at least a little.

First, I’ll go over some basics:

Being otherkin means you identify as a nonhuman being (non physically!). You are this creature, and it is you.

Being otherhearted/kith means you identify with the creature, not as. Maybe you wish you were this creature, maybe not. It holds a part of your heart, and in a way, is probably apart of who you are as a person, but it doesn’t shape your identity in the same way a kintype does. You probably can’t imagine not identifying as your kintype, but you could still be you without your kithtype.

However, being otherhearted/kith is NOT the same as having a favorite animal. It can be like a favorite animal, but you feel like “favorite animal” doesn’t quite describe how you feel about the animal. It is definitely something more than that.

Cameo shifts are shifts into another creature that isn’t your kintype. (Note that shifting as your kithtype counts as cameo, or at least, I don’t know any better word for it, so that’s what I’ll call it for now.)

So, how do you distinguish a kintype from a kithtype? What makes a shift a cameo instead of a kintype shift?

I think for something to be considered a kintype, you must identify as it for a certain amount of time (maybe about 6 months) and distinctly feel that it is you and feel as if, when you see your kintype, you are looking in a mirror, not seeing a friend. (Of course, if you find your kintype and decide you’re sure enough to call it a kintype before 6 months that is completely fine, I’m talking about those who are confused or questioning and want to be absolutely sure!)

For me, when I see something I know is a kithtype- for this example I’ll use wolves, as they are a kithtype of mine and I did think I was a wolf for a while- I do see similarities between us. But I feel more a deep admiration for them than a feeling of “that’s me!”. I feel as if I’m seeing brothers and sisters, like I could walk among wolves like they are family, but they’re not. I like to compare it to the way Native Americans in movies (idk about irl so I’m comparing to movies bc it’s easier) have certain animals they deeply respect and sort of draw power/happiness/knowledge/etc from. It is a deep connection, and for me it feels almost familial. I want to protect wolves, and learn about them, and someday see them in person. I want to be their friend, their ally, their sibling. But I am not one of them.

With my dog theriotype, it’s different. When I see seppalas with black and white coats like how I imagine my theriotype to look, I get a very strong feeling like “that’s me!!!” and feel as if I’m looking in a mirror, or seeing a picture of me when I looked really good, haha. I see myself as this animal, and it feels completely natural to do so. I could imagine myself as my dog theriotype doing dog things, or imagine something silly like being a dog doing human things, like typing at my computer. But it feels 100% natural to see myself this way. Calling myself a dog feels right. Calling myself a wolf would feel more like, trying to fit into your older sibling’s clothes as a kid, if that makes sense? I sometimes want to be a wolf because I admire them so much. But, I am not one.

But of course, the lines between kin and kith aren’t always so distinct. Maybe you feel so strongly for an animal that you wonder if it is a kintype, but you feel it’s not quite strong enough to be a kintype. Maybe you have had very strong shifts as your kithtype and question if it means something more, or if the shifts were only cameos. Maybe you heavily relate to some of the characteristics of your kithtype and feel as if these characteristics are linked to a kintype and this creature fits your feelings fairly closely, probably not totally accurately.

Alternatively, maybe you question a kintype being a kithtype instead because you don’t always feel it so strongly. Maybe you’re not as connected to one kintype as another. Maybe you think you’re just biased and really really like this animal and shouldn’t be so quick to label it as a kintype.

So, where do you draw the line?

It might be different for you, but for me personally, I think I would have to consider myself this animal enough to want to call myself this animal, at least most of the time. Maybe I don’t feel it as strongly as my dog theriotype, but if I were to introduce myself to someone, I would want to mention all of my theriotypes. I must have somewhat frequent/strong shifts of this animal that do not fade, or feel partially shifted for a long period of time. I’ve found that if I have random bursts of shifts that are only caused by outside influences, they are cameo shifts. My kintype shifts might be more random, last longer, and feel more solid, while cameo shifts feel more unstable, like they won’t last very long.

What sucks about me personally is that, when I cameo shift, I feel very strongly in that moment that I am that creature, that I identify as it. I have had very strong feline shifts, where I feel totally cat and want to rub my head on things and purr. But I get these shifts too infrequently to call myself a feline. Though that’s how it is for me personally. Maybe you’re different and have very infrequent shifts, that’s okay!

The main difference is that I do not normally identify as a cat. I have strong cat shifts caused by outside influences and will feel as if I am internally a cat for a short time, but it always goes away. If I am doing something unrelated to cats and not thinking about it for some time, and someone asks what animal I feel like in that moment, I would not say I am a cat.

Another difference is I will sort of instinctively shift as a reaction to certain situations, such as fear. For example, I have social anxiety and I remember a day when I went to the store feeling particularly anxious, and had a strong orca shift as a result, feeling the urge to slap my tail at anyone who got too close (sounds hilarious writing it out tbh). I wouldn’t normally have cameo shifts as a defense thing like this. I wouldn’t shift into a dragon or cat or whatever in this situation unless I was already thinking about them a lot or something.

I would have wolf shifted in the past when I believed I was a wolf, because my dog theriotype is pretty similar to wolves and I was confident I was a wolf back then. So, it’s good to try to remain unbiased if you are questioning a kintype and wondering what animal your shift is linked to. Instead of labeling it with any specific animal, stay neutral. For example, if you feel a long snout and the urge to growl and bare your teeth, do not call it a canine shift. There are other animals with long snouts that growl.

If you have a lot of cameo shifts and want to determine whether certain shifts are cameos or indications of a kintype, I would recommend:

Doing research. You’ve probably already done research to figure out what animal exactly you are shifting into, but I’d recommend also figuring out if you identify with many of the traits from this animal. For example, do you feel drawn to the habitat it lives in? When you hear its vocalizations do they sound familiar and you think if you could make these vocalizations it would feel right? Think about how big or small the animal is, does it feel right imagining yourself from that point of view? Maybe you’ll find you do little things that are similar to this animal. Be aware that they could very well be normal human things, but ultimately I think it’s up to you to determine whether these characteristics feel related to a kintype or not. Also, everyone is different! Maybe you don’t like the habitat your kintype lives in, etc. You don’t have to identify with all of these questions.

Take it slow, don’t think too much about it. Personally, the more I think about a potential kintype, the more I want to rush things and feel more biased and want to label myself, but this can be a bad idea.

Going off the last note but it’s 100% okay to be wrong about your kintype. If you absolutely feel right calling yourself a certain creature and want to label yourself this now, go ahead! Do what makes you happy. Maybe in a few months or a few years you’ll realize you were wrong. But that’s okay, everyone is still learning and growing, everyone makes mistakes. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad for switching labels when it doesn’t affect them at all. It’s your own life, your own mind. Only you know how you feel, and no one can tell you how to think or feel or whatever.

However, if you are prone to rushing things and switching labels and such and want to quit, I would recommend waiting around 6 months before labeling a new kintype. If by then you still feel strongly you identify as this animal, label away! I say 6 months because from what I have seen it’s the period of time before someone can be diagnosed with a mental disorder. You have to experience symptoms of a disorder for at least 6 months in order to be diagnosed. I think it’s a good amount of time, because a lot can happen in 6 months, but you will not change who you are as a person or your core identity in 6 months. Basically, your kintype isn’t going anywhere by then. The only reason I can think of someone identifying as the wrong kintype for 6 months is if their actual kintype is very similar, and maybe they aren’t aware it exists (which is what happened in my case!), or haven’t looked into it enough. But of course, it’s totally up to you. Whatever you’re most comfortable with.

It’s also totally okay to not know your kintype. Maybe you don’t know any of your kintype(s), and just know that you don’t feel totally human. That’s okay! Everyone goes at their own pace. You have all the time in the world to figure yourself out.

Keeping a journal is a good idea. Try to be as unbiased as possible and write down your shifts and other otherkin experiences. Write down why you think you shifted, if it’s totally random or was possibly caused by something. Write down any urges you have that you think are kin related.

Maybe try inducing shifts of different animals you are considering as kintypes and note the differences between them and how comfortable/stable the different shifts feel.

You could have a friend or just have a timer or something to remind you to randomly ask yourself how you are feeling in that moment, if you feel like any particular animal. It can be very subtle.

Do things your possible kintype would do, watch videos, look at pictures, or if you’re into drawing, draw yourself! Draw how your phantom shifts would look, or draw what you think you would look like as this possible kintype. If you can’t draw or feel it wouldn’t accurately capture what you’re thinking. try to imagine it as vividly as possible. Does it feel like you? Do you feel as if you’re looking in a mirror, or does it feel more like a character/fursona, or like seeing an old friend?

I won’t get too into detail about finding your kintype and how to do research and such because there is already a lot of information about that out there. I wish you all luck on your journeys to discover yourselves!

[only-in-dreamland]

So I've decided that the clip with his mama is one of my favourites this entire season and here's why:

First of all, can I just say that skam italia have done such a brilliant job of the way they're using music in every episode, not just songs, but scores that show the weight and intention behind every scene and it's just art.

For instance the opening of this clip with the background music just makes you feel the impact (literally gives me chills) of this scene, so not only are we seeing it though marti researching BPD, but it is also auditorily stunning where everything just feels that much more contemplative.

Niccolò's message oh my god I- 'the giraffe's heart is far from it's thoughts. It fell in love yesterday, and doesn't know it yet.'

I love love love everything this signifies; it reflects the importance of feelings, especially to Niccolò; someone who can lose sight of reality, who's made to doubt everything he thinks...his ideas, his desires, his dreams. Who's made to feel like he can't trust his own thoughts; that everything he thinks is a consequence of his mental illness, as opposed to a consequence of his own feelings.

Which is all the more heartbreaking when you link it back to when he said 'I want to figure out what I feel on my own'. Because everyone else wants to dictate for him, tell him what's best, what's real...but for him the only thing he can trust is what he feels, and boy does he feel for marti.

Marti does this huge inhale right before he goes to block Nico's number, almost as if he's preparing himself for a painful blow. When he's already suffered it. So perhaps from his own rationale he sees that blocking nico's number is a way to block his own pain? Like it's just too overwhelming for him to acknowledge at this point. And instead of trying to figure out the hidden meaning behind yet another vague mesage from Niccolò, he does the only thing he can think that will give him a sanctuary from this pain...even just for a little while. (I'm not convinced he actually got a chance to block him though so there's that)

When his mum comes in, it all being too overwhelming is confirmed because his reaction to her is instantaneous, and when he glances back at her as she walks into the room I'm just- floored by his expression; he looks so...exposed like he knows he can't hide the hurt anymore.

Then the part where Federico decides to stab me in the heart, and then twist it even deeper because my god his voice here is haunting.

'Fuck off then, you'll stay here on your own' - as marti's voice breaks here, I break too. Honestly it was the most painful bit of martino for me yet (in ANY clip) because it was so emotive, yet so harsh. And those words...'stay here on your own' echo what marti said to nico in the bathroom clip in episode 5, about how all his mama does is stay at home all day...alone. Parallels will be the death of me.

The way his head falls back towards the door, towards her, as if he wants to bridge the gap but just doesn't know how to. And yet again, we have another metaphor: shutting the door equals shutting his mum out. From his struggles, from his pain...perhaps he feels she wouldn't know how to be there for him, since he feels she's done nothing to help herself (again the bathroom scene in ep 5).

But then they mirror each other; they're sat in the same position just on opposite sides. They're both in pain. And that's what's so hard to watch with these two. They could be such significant parts of each other's support system, yet the theme of miscommunication is so prevalent. Marti didn't want to spend time with her because he didn't know how to help, because he hated seeing her depressed and no matter what he did, he felt it was doing nothing for her. So he distanced himself, and then Niccolò came along and a struggle of his own came about. For mama Rametta, she thinks her son hates spending time with her. But little does she know how exhausting it is to watch your own mother, go through such hardship and depression and feel useless in helping her. It's a vicious cycle yet neither are directly confronting it to one another; hence why they end up fighting each other, instead of fighting together through all the difficulties of life.

'We're all happy in this house, aren't we?' This is such a sad line to me because it's acknowledging the fact that neither of them are happy...at home. When home should be a place that makes you feel safe, warm and all things associated with happiness.

'Marti, you're the most important thing in my life'- this line, this line right here is so damn powerful; she's heartbroken to think her own son doesn't trust her with it; but what's so telling is he said 'I don't know'- such a grey answer, not a straight up 'no' or 'yes' but it implies the lack of communication yet again...he doesn't know his mum enough to draw any conclusion as to how she'd react- positive or negative- and that is more devastating because when did this chasm get so big between them? This disconnect? This misunderstanding? It really feels like a tragedy.

Fuck off Federico just fuck off because I can't handle his boundless talent anymore; marti crying in pain but almost disbelief because he can't believe he's hearing it, he's nodding his head ever so slightly like he's understanding this for the first time and wow that...makes my heart ache because when did he ever doubt that? And why? When did he think he wasn't enough? Was it when his dad left? And he felt replaced by another son? Just fucking kill me...it would hurt less.

'Can I get out, out least?' Oh this line is a brilliant play on words. Because simply it's 'can I get out of this room?' but metaphorically? It's 'please let me in' because he's shutting her out here remember...physically and mentally. So if he was to open the door, and that mental barrier he puts between the two of them they can finally start to understand one another and repair what's been broken.

'Let's see'...this holds such a hopeful sentiment. Because he's not shutting her down. And he's not denying any chances of it happening. He's leaving the possibilities wide open, a

'who knows what could happen? because I don't know yet but maybe just maybe give me some time and we'll get there'

[wrappedinpianostrings]

Long personal post ahead about BPD and B&W thinking

I just got out of what was singlehandedly the best therapy session of my life. I had come to a couple of realizations of things and wrote them in my notes throughout the past couple of weeks and made sure to bring them up. I’ve been really depressed since my job finished and I thought we’d just talk about how to cope when I get depressed like this since it’s so intense.

No. This wonderful, genius of a woman got me to talk about my BPD.

I don’t usually talk about it much with therapists because I get worried that I was misdiagnosed, but really BPD is different for everyone and she helped me to see where the fuck it comes from most days.

I’m gonna break it down because, once it clicked in my head, I know it’s probably gonna stay there for the rest of my life. I feel like a lot of people could probably benefit from hearing this instead of blindly believing that it’s something that you were born with that won’t go away.

Basically, mom’s death, other than being traumatizing, affected the way I perceive people. I’ve never heard a single bad thing said about her because everyone puts people on a pedestal after they die. My mom became the face of the ideal woman, everything I strive for in myself and what I look for in other people. The good memories I have of her and the good stories I always hear from people that knew her shaped the way I viewed “good” in its entirety.

When we talk about black and white thinking with BPD, the white (good) was and is totally formed around my mother. And the fact that I never got closure about her death makes it still permeate my life today. When I need someone, I always envision being comforted by specific things; things I believe my mom would do for me if she were still alive. Anytime I’m sad, I just want my mom. That’s the white that my brain always goes back to.

Adversely, I had my stepmom who was abusive, aggressive, manipulative, literally everything bad that a mother could be emotionally and verbally. This is the black in my brain. This is the other end of the spectrum. The resentment I have towards her permeates every bad emotion I feel — that’s why I feel things so intensely. A mean thing said to me by someone I know translates to abuse in my brain. Criticism translates to disappointment and complete despair. I’m always waiting for someone to leave or hurt me. This has only been confirmed by being left and hurt throughout my adult life, so the pattern still stays.

With this being said, splitting is obviously an issue. When I split on people, I see them as my stepmom. When I love people, I see them as my mother. I don’t think that I have ever rage or experience intense agression like a lot of people with BPD do; instead I hide in a shell. If I see my stepmom in them for a moment, I hide immediately and wait like I’m waiting for my birth mom to come back to get me. This exact illustration is what my therapist brought up. I don’t split out of anger, I split out of fear. When I split on someone, I either see them as my birthmom or my stepmom. It’s either love or resentment. It’s either black or white. It’s exhausting.

However, I learned that I’m not stuck. I don’t have to view people this way — even though it’s my brain’s instinctual reaction. I’ve been doing this for well over a decade, but my vision can always be corrected.

What she told me, and I quote, was “You are in survival mode, you have been ever since your mom died. And that’s okay. That’s expected. Sometimes we aren’t comforted when we need to be and we carry that void our entire lives until we decide to put it down.” It’s okay to be in survival mode, it’s okay to be wary of the way other people talk to you. It’s okay to be damaged. What’s not okay is you letting yourself believe that you deserve it.

GUYS bpd fucking sucks. it’s awful and i hate living inside my head. But it’s also kind of exciting because healing involves remaking yourself!!!!!!

In other news, I bought myself my favorite pizza and I’m beating my depression today knowing that I’ll be okay

[enigmaphenomenon]

Something’s up with Jack (Another Jack analysis)

I believe Handsome Jack has Borderline Personality Disorder. 

Let’s first go through the symptoms of BPD. In order to be diagnosed with BPD one needs to have repeated patterns of 5 out of 9 symptoms of BPD. I’ll go through the symptoms Jack displays. 

Google gives a very brief list of symptoms. I’ll highlight the ones Jack is shown having. 

Behavioral: antisocial behavior, compulsive behavior, hostility, impulsivity, irritability, risk taking behaviors, self-destructive behavior, self-harm, social isolation, or lack of restraint

Mood: anger, anxiety, general discontent, guilt, loneliness, mood swings, or sadness

Psychological: depression, distorted self-image, grandiosity, or narcissism

So let’s just dive right into his symptoms. I don’t...really need to provide examples of Jack’s narcissism, do I? Because that one is obvious as all hell. 

1)  An intense fear of abandonment, even going to extreme measures to avoid real or imagined separation or rejection. 

Oh yeah. And Jack reacts quite violently to what he perceives as betrayals and/or abandonment. If you trust Jack instead of Fiona at the end of Episode 2, and refuse to trust him in Episode 3 when he asks you too...uh...

“Oh. Oh, that’s a... shame. Because I thought--- I thought we were becoming pals. Saved your life back there and you...still don’t trust me? You know I’m uh...I’ve had to deal with this my whole damn life you know? You try to do the right thing and people just... crap all over you for it. Well, congrats kiddo. You’re the latest in a long line of Jack-shitters. Super psyched about it.” 

This isn’t the first time Jack mentions that he should have seen this all coming, he mentions it again at the end of Episode 5. 

“I should have seen this coming--ever since I came to this nacho-flavored shithole of a planet. I’ve been betrayed by everybody I gave rat’s ass about. My boss. My girlfriend. Hell...my goddamn daughter.” 

Then, of course, Jack telling Rhys...

And....

Jack has extreme violent reactions to people he views as being against him, even when they aren’t. Adding to this is Jack’s hatred of all vault-hunters due to Lilith and Roland’s betrayal and also his fear of being shot in the back if he lets his enemies live. Remember he was willing to forgive the Meriff and let him live until the Meriff tries to shoot Jack as he’s walking away. This then leads to Jack airlocking scientists just for the mere possibility one of them might be working for Zarpedon. Also, when Athena or whoever else you play suggest just rushing to the vault and not fighting Jack insists they all must die, stating that if you let your enemies live, they’ll shoot you in the back. 

2)  A pattern of unstable intense relationships, such as idealizing someone one moment and then suddenly believing the person doesn't care enough or is cruel. (People with BPD tend to have relationships that are intense and short-lived. You may fall in love quickly, believing each new person is the one who will make you feel whole, only to be quickly disappointed. Your relationships either seem perfect or horrible, with nothing in between. Your lovers, friends, or family members may feel like they have emotional whiplash from your rapid swings between idealization and devaluation, anger, and hate.)

Moxxi, Rhys, Angel, and his second wife. 

Moxxi says he was clingy and that’s why she dumped Jack, Jack blew up her slaughter dome thing due to this, but this doesn’t stop him from asking her for help to fight against Zarpedon. 

Rhys? Aw man just take a look at this switch. 

“Oh, wow. I wish I could hug you right now. I’m gonna make a robot that just hugs you when I tell it to. I’m so proud. I’m so proud of my special boy! This is a perfect partnership, Rhys. You trusted me. I trusted you, and now we’re here! Man--never really had a partner I could count on before. Feels kinda dope”

No Jack, Rhys doesn’t want a giant Endoskeleton to crawl inside his body. 

“This was YOUR chance to make history, you moron! To be part of a legacy! To matter for once in your useless little life!”

Angel doesn’t need to be explained right? In the ECHO logs in Borderlands 2 Jack cycles between being amiable towards her and then lashing out at her. 

His relationship with his second wife was ruined over him refusing to shut down the control core, and in an ECHO log it’s stated she disappeared shortly after telling Jack to shut down the control core. 

3) Identity disturbance, such as a significant and persistent unstable self-image or sense of self

Jack is a meglomaniac who sees himself as the hero and as a god, but, in BL2 he brings this up: 

"I know you think I'm a monster. You think I enslaved Angel. But you didn't see what she did to her mother. I had to restrain Angel's power. You get that? I had to."

He brings this up to the vault hunter. Why? What does he care what the vault hunter thinks of him? Jack sure as hell hasn’t cared at all about “bandits” opinions of him. And he really isn’t shy about blaming other people for something, come on, this is the same man who says he shot a baby because THE BABY was being a dick. 

Jack doesn’t blame Angel for betraying him. As he said in TFTBL, she had no choice. He also doesn’t say that vault hunters killed her. He says that she killed herself.

This is Jack being hit with the realization that his daughter is dead, and that he drove her to it. He’s the monster who enslaved Angel, but he says he had to do it (I’ll go deeper into this in a different essay). He had to to restrain her power, he had to, as if he didn’t have a choice. There is guilt behind these words. 

To compare, in Tomb Raider 2013 there was extra dialogue (that for some reason was not in the final version of the game) after Lara has her first kill, she tells herself “I had to do it. I had to do it.” That’s how Lara rationalizes taking a life. If she had not killed that man, he would have killed her, so she “had to.”

I believe its the same with Jack. There is guilt there. Why would he feel the need to defend his actions to the vault hunters? To the “bandits?” He saw Angel ask the vault hunters to end her life, he saw her call them friend, her last dying breath was needing to tell her father that he’s an asshole. Jack knows. He knows what he’s done. But he’s too mentally ill to accept it, or change it. If anything, that just drove him further into insanity. 

In TFTBL Jack also mentions that he knows where Rhys is coming from and imposter syndrome is normal, and to just strangle that voice in his head that says he’s not good enough. 

4) Impulsive and risky behavior, such as gambling, reckless driving, unsafe sex, spending sprees, binge eating or drug abuse, or sabotaging success by suddenly quitting a good job or ending a positive relationship

Hahahaha ooooooh yeaaaaah. 

Spending sprees: Butt Stallion

“My day? It's been pretty good. I just bought a pony made of diamonds, because I’m rich. So, you know. That’s cool.“

Unsafe sex: 

“If I’da just thrown stock options at the Vault Hunters instead of bullets, I’d be on a beach right now doing disturbingly graphic things with the local ladies.”

Drug abuse: 

He mashed up a mushroom and snorted it...a lot...

Primo hit of electri-drugs.

His chair also has contact activated Dopamine injectors. 

Jack drinks, a lot apparently, since he thought either sex or drinking would kill him. 

It really wouldn’t surprise me if Jack participated in orgies which he probably totally did.

5)  Extreme emotional swings. Unstable emotions and moods are common with BPD. One moment, you may feel happy, and the next, despondent. Little things that other people brush off can send you into an emotional tailspin. These mood swings are intense, but they tend to pass fairly quickly (unlike the emotional swings of depression or bipolar disorder), usually lasting just a few minutes or hours.

Jack is...really unstable and I don’t think anyone will disagree.  

ECHO logs in BL2 depict Jack going from manic to a fit of rage both with Angel and Mr. Tassiter. As well as Mr. Moorin who he strangles for mentioning his wife. 

Or when he gets really excited...

6) Chronic feelings of emptiness. People with BPD often talk about feeling empty, as if there’s a hole or a void inside them. At the extreme, you may feel as if you’re “nothing” or “nobody.” This feeling is uncomfortable, so you may try to fill the hole with things like drugs, food, or sex. But nothing feels truly satisfying.

After becoming CEO he became dictator of Pandora, then decided...hey why not conquer more planets? Why not basically become a god? That toppled on top of Jack’s drug use and sex life. He bought a diamond horse and named it Butt-stallion...

He also says that when he takes Rhys’ body he’s still gonna use it to eat food and bang a bunch of people. 

(A side note, Dameon Clarke while answering questions as Handsome Jack said that there’s a lot of smiling going on but he’s actually dead inside. I just wanted to add it here as a point of interest.)

Jack also tolerated Mr. Tassiter’s insults until Tassiter told Jack that he’s a pathetic nobody under his mask. This leads to Jack strangling him and keeping his goatee as a reminder of what happens to people when they’re a dick to Jack. 

7)Explosive anger. If you have BPD, you may struggle with intense anger and a short temper. You may also have trouble controlling yourself once the fuse is lit—yelling, throwing things, or becoming completely consumed by rage. It’s important to note that this anger isn’t always directed outwards. You may spend a lot of time being angry at yourself.

I don’t feel I need to provide examples for this one. We’ve all seen Jack’s rage. He uh....really goes off and it is not easy to stop him. 

Now that we got Jack’s symptoms out of the way let’s move on to causes. 

Most mental health professionals believe that borderline personality disorder (BPD) is caused by a combination of inherited or internal biological factors and external environmental factors, such as traumatic experiences in childhood.

...

Hereditary predisposition. You may be at a higher risk if a close relative — your mother, father, brother or sister — has the same or a similar disorder.

Stressful childhood. Many people with the disorder report being sexually or physically abused or neglected during childhood. Some people have lost or were separated from a parent or close caregiver when they were young or had parents or caregivers with substance misuse or other mental health issues. Others have been exposed to hostile conflict and unstable family relationships.

Let’s start with Jack’s genetics. If you saw my last post about Jack, it was wondering if Jack’s grandmother was a bandit and/or psycho due to her buzz axe. It is very possible that Jack’s grandmother and mother also suffer with some mental illness. 

Onto the stressful childhood. Grandma’s buzz axe which was a disciplinary weapon she used on Jack, and in The Pre-Sequel, Jack is asked to describe his childhood which he says his mother abandoned him on his abusive grandmother who would smack him around. He also had a pet cat that his grandma drowned because he didn’t make his bed. He cites this as “the usual stuff” 

Jack has both genetics and environmental factors that can lead to someone having mental disorders. 

Jack’s drug use and drinking would aid in making his BPD symptoms much worse as well.

So...yeah, there’s my Jack analysis.

[i-love-you-go-away]

My Experience with BPD

1. Frantic attempts to avoid real or imagined abandonment.

I’m very lucky to have a loving and understanding boyfriend who genuinely believes in my worth as a person. We’ve been dating for nearly ten years and we communicate very well. Despite this, I have recurring fears that he will suddenly and unexpectedly leave me or is harbouring secret resentment. Often when we fight or argue or even just disagree, I can abruptly find myself panicking, apologizing, promising to be better just please don’t go away please love me again please I’m scared. It comes out of nowhere and it surprises me every time. Sometimes I can talk myself through it: it’s okay, he’s just upset, he will be there tomorrow morning, I promise. But sometimes I get carried away with it.

2. A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation.

Before I met my boyfriend, the only relationships I’d had were abusive or massively one-sided. Friendships are obsessions for me and I can only seem to have one at a time. I can be friendly with people and I’ve been told I’m very kind and easy to talk to but I don’t really have friends. I can’t decide if I love a person or hate them. Being aware of this problem, I try to stay on the love side of the split and just avoid getting to know anyone deeply or letting anyone know me. I have difficulty interpreting others’ feeling and usually assume their opinions about me are negative. I usually disappear from places and people who have become too familiar.

3. Identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self.

I don’t know who I am. I have large gaps in my autobiographical memory. I can’t decide what kind of person I want to be or what career I want or what colour is my favourite. When I look in the mirror, I don’t recognize that person who looks back. Inside my mind I have several voices (I think of them as the child, the teenager, and the adult, although they do have names) who each have opinions and feelings and thoughts of their own. They fight constantly with each other to be in control of the body that they are forced to share. I’ve had this experience of being fragmented since I was about 10 years old, when I first remember “hearing” thoughts that didn’t seem to belong to me. Sometimes I hate myself and sometimes I care for myself. My likes and dislikes change frequently and without warning.

4. Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging.

When I drink or smoke weed, I have trouble stopping when it’s becoming a problem. My father was missing from a lot of my childhood because of addiction, so I’m very careful about using substances. It’s hard for me to resist continuously using or doing something that makes me feel good, to the point that it becomes very unhealthy. I spend money I know I need for important things like bills or rent or food because I feel good for like ten minutes when I have a new thing. I binge on food, sex, drugs, and internet. I feel very guilty and ashamed of this behaviour but I still have difficulty stopping myself before the consequences start to become obvious. I have difficulty planning or preparing for things properly or I misjudge my ability to wing it. This is something I’m getting better at self-regulating since I finished a course of DBT.

5. Recurrent suicidal behaviour, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behaviour.

I was ten years old the first time I hurt myself on purpose. I did it because I felt angry and embarrassed and I felt like I needed to be punished somehow. When I was 14 I started cutting and burning myself. At 15 I added disordered eating to the ways I could harm my body. When I was 17 I attempted suicide. After I met my boyfriend I promised myself I would stop doing those things. Despite that promise, I still hit or bite myself in episodes of extreme stress, still think about suicide on a daily basis, still have trouble feeding or taking care of myself.

6. Affective instability due to marked reactivity of mood.

My moods fluctuate wildly in the course of a day. It really feels like a spin-the-wheel kind of emotional landscape. I can feel intensely depressed for the morning, suddenly recover happiness and optimism and then have a five-hour panic attack. I often cannot handle how extreme my emotions become; all sadness becomes despair, all happiness becomes euphoria, all anxiety becomes terror. I take personal offense to things that aren’t meant to hurt me. I feel intense shame when I make small mistakes or mildly inconvenience others.

7. Chronic feelings of emptiness.

Especially when alone, I feel a sense of numbness, like nothing touches me, nothing interests me, nothing has meaning or worth. It feels like I only exist when people are looking at me. If I’m not feeling a feeling then what am I? I have difficulty remembering what feeling a different way was like.

8. Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger

I don’t scream at or fight with other people; usually I turn all anger towards myself. When I get angry, it’s a hot flash of pain inside my brain that needs to be suppressed immediately or I will hurt myself. I excessively control anger to the point where I almost never feel it, instead I feel shame or sadness. I’m trying to learn how to recognize and appropriately express anger instead of denying it so deeply that it hurts me.

9. Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms.

When I’m very stressed I hear voices. Not hallucinations - the voices are in my mind. They’re the voices I mentioned above, but louder and much more intrusive. I start to think that I am pieces and I forget how to be a single person. Sometimes I have amnesia or act very strangely. I also become vulnerable to delusions, usually guilt or shame-based, and paranoia. I begin to believe that the people in my life are lying to me, sparing me from the reality of my inherent badness. Although I logically know it isn’t true right now, when I have these episodes  I lose touch with reality.