Back In Therapy/Psychosis delusions/Abilify

Well, here it goes.
One last time I’m making a solid attempt. I really need help. It finally dawned on me. A couple of weeks ago I had my second ever major mental breakdown. I don’t mean a breakdown in the sense of the cutesy romantic-comedy type fashion, where a girl finds her bf cheated and she throws his picture and dramatically storms out. This time was bad, it’s like all of my inner and outer workings just simultaneously shut down. I wasn’t really eating, and my insomnia was heightened by a factor of a billion. I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t screaming, cussing, and throwing shit, I was just… empty. I sat in a dark room in silence, I couldn’t think, it’s like I wasn’t even real. I actually started to think that I didn’t exist anymore (but maybe that was just a delusion). My delusions have been frequent as well too. My hallucinations are starting to get the better of me anymore. I’m hearing angry voices, sometimes they talk directly to me, but most of the time I just pick up bits and pieces, it’s like I’m hearing half of someone else’s conversation. But also, sometimes they’re very random. The other day I heard a cat trapped in the wall, it was fucking terrifying for me. I called my grandpa into the room in a panic thinking that it was real. I told him it sounded like a kitten was stuck in the wall. When he came to check it I could still very clearly hear the cat sounds but he couldn’t. I finally realized it must have been one of those in my head things and just let it go and tried to play it off. Other times I get this weirdness in my head where i would be doing one thing physically but in my head I think I’m doing something else. I was laying in bed reading but at the same time I was standing in my bathroom looking into the mirror. A few minutes later I snapped back and I was still laying in bed holding the book. I never left the bed but i was CLEARLY in the bathroom looking at the mirror, it wasn’t just daydreaming. Do these count as delusions? And of course after that poses the issue of me going into public. I still hate leaving my house, I fucking hate strangers. A lot of times when I go into an area with a large amount of strangers (and by strangers I could also mean people I know but are not close with) I started getting really fucking anxious, and a part of me keeps darting my eyes around and I feel like everybody hates me and in their minds everybody has linked up heads and are sharing thoughts about how stupid I look or bad things about me. It gets bad.

I started a new therapist on Monday though (today is Thursday) and I think it might be promising honestly. I went into the office with a feeling of “fuck this, it’s not going to work. Therapists are assholes” mainly because my last therapist was a piece of shit who pretty much dismissed me as a moody teenager who didn’t really see or feel or hear the things that I do. I was actually paying this one therapist though for him to be so shitty (but that rant is for a later post) but now I’m at one that my primary care doctor set me up for (without me really knowing) that accepts my insurance so woo-fucking-hoo. This lady I have is really nice though. When I went on Monday we didn’t really have a session we just started filling out paperwork and did the basic pre-evaluation thing. We started talking about the voices. She believes me which is nice, it makes me feel a little better. I might go more in depth next Monday and explain more about the hallucinations (maybe about the delusions but I’m not sure). Does anyone think I should tell her about ALL OF IT? Anyways, she mentioned starting me on Abilify, she said it should help with the depression and make the voices go away completely. Also some pills for the severe anxiety and some pills to finally help me sleep. I never sleep. I’m sure I have to have a lot more sessions though, I’ve become a little anxious to find out what I’m going to be diagnosed with. I know a lot of people are like “chill, the diagnosis doesn’t define you”. I know that, but it might make me feel a little less crazy if i had some sort of a label to put on it so I could know what’s ACTUALLY wrong with me. Part of my biggest fear is “what if subconsciously this isn’t real? what if I make all of this up”. I know that sounds incredibly stupid but I don’t know. I guess I just need some sort of validity to cling to to prove that I’m not as mentally fucked up as i feel.

As we all know, today is Valentine’s day. I’m one of those people without a Valentine to celebrate with… so my night is going to consist of Netflix, reading, and Chinese take out. Anyone else doing the same?
I refuse to allow myself to become miserable over today. I hate that I’m so socially awkward. I hate that I’m scared to leave my house. I hate that I’m so quiet… I hate that I’m so scared to get close to people. I feel like I might have been attractive enough to have a date tonight, if these hadn’t been issues for me. But tonight, I drown my sorrows in fresh baked cookies from scratch. Would anybody like to message on kik?

My Abusive Relationship Story.

While I was gone, I had promised myself that I was open my eyes up to new experiences in life… and I did.
Come late November, I met the most amazing guy that I had talked to in a very long time. It was a whirlwind romance, a spectacular Rendez-vous worthy of screaming towards the heavens. I thought this was going to be a wonderful relationship… but he turned out to be a not so wonderful guy.

From the beginning we had fallen in love, it was one of the very few times that I had let my guard down for a man (I will learn from my mistake). Once he knew he had me in love with him, he turned very quickly. Initially I thought it was a gradual change, until after we broke up and I went back to read my old journal entries, there was nothing gradual about how he was acting. The only thing that had slowly begun to change was my perception of him as I slowly came to my senses.
At first, he would just get jealous or angry that I had an account on MEETME regardless if I was using it or not, he wanted to go through it all the time. I wasn’t cheating, and even though after two weeks of checking it constantly, he didn’t believe me. Then came the other social media, he was checking my instagram, twitter, and text messages more than I was. He continuously posted pictures of himself all over my instagram. I thought it was a cute sentiment at the time but later I realized it’s so everyone would see that he was the alpha male. He had me delete these things. Delete the MEETME, delete ex’s from my Instagram, delete everybody from my phone that he didn’t like (which included every single one of my friends), and the most stupid part about this thing was that I let him. I waited at his feet like a little puppy dog for his next command. I was becoming depressed by this point, when he would leave for work it would sink in how alone I was, I had nobody to talk to at all.

Next came cutting me off from family. The only person he’d allow me to be around was my grandmother, and I think that’s because she was the only one completely ignorant to the situation (which could’ve been dangerous because I was living with her at the time). The rest of my family saw straight through him, and they worried for my safety. If I wasn’t alone at home–which became rare because as I said before I was extremely depressed and therefore never went anywhere– he would call me no less than every 20 minutes. And he would get very very angry if I was driving and didn’t answer the phone, even though that was the reason for my car accident (which I’ll get to in another post). Keep in mind that if I wasn’t at home, I was with family (I didn’t have any friends left). I remember in particular one time where he called me like 1000 times even though I told him I was driving my other around and finally she picked up the phone, he had a hissy fit wanting to know exactly where I was and who I was with and he questioned every little detail, EVEN THOUGH MY MOTHER PICKED UP THE PHONE. She told him to calm down the controlling stuff before it got bad, and he flipped out. He hated the word controllling and swore to every family member who called him that, that he wasn’t and never would be, even though that was exactly what he was doing. He didn’t want to face the music of what he was really doing to me. My cousin had been his friend for years prior and my cousin told me to watch my back, I finally understand why.

He had this way of balancing out the good with all of the bad, He would do things to get me to forgive him every time we got into a fight (which my this point was extremely often), he yelled at me a lot. If you’ve been around on this blog for a while you would understand why getting yelled at is such an issue to me, its scary and makes me break down *escepically when getting yelled at by someone three times my size as the was*. Further than that he called me names, terrible awful names that shouldn’t ever be repeated, and he put me down constantly. My self worth was gone. After these fighting episodes he would bring me roses, take me out on a date, anything to make me feel better and sweep his mistakes under the rug, every time he would do this I assumed it meant that he learned what he did wrong and it meant that he wouldn’t do it again, I was wrong.

This went on for what felt like an eternity, until the night that we broke up. That night was when shit hit the fan. It started as a normal night, we had just gotten into another argument about him thinking that I was cheating and it was a nasty argument. Afterwards he came over and brought me some movies that I liked so we could have a movie night. It was the most strained we have ever been, we wouldn’t get near each other, we sat on opposite ends of the couch, no cuddling. It was odd. And then came the point at the end of the night where he blatantly demanded my phone. Before it was different; he would ask, I don’t do demands. For the first time ever I finally told him NO. And that was a mistake, that was the first time (and the last) that he put his hands on me. He kept trying to reach for the phone and I held out my arm as far as I could from him and threw myself onto my side to get it as far away from him as possible (I wasn’t hiding anything, I just didn’t feel obligated to show him unless he could ask nicely) and so he grabbed my arm that was closest to him as hard as he could near my elbow and squeezed (this guy played football, he’s strong). I found later that I had a major bruise there. I’m not going into detail about the rest of the night but basically he ended up breaking up with me and walking out of my door for good, and I was left with a few more bruises.

The sad part is, that he thought what he was doing was okay, he didn’t think he was wrong at all. I could tell from the way he talked he sounded like this was what a normal relationship should’ve been like.
He came back a couple of weeks ago, I thought he had changed… until he told me that if he came back that there would be even more strict ground rules and plus I would have to make some huge grand apology, and then he told me straight out that he just wanted sex (as if I were some floozy) I kicked him to the curb though. As I said before, I learn from my mistakes.

Depression Cripples;

Where for art thou, oh loyal readers?

I’ve been gone for far too long, it seems I’ve been sent off to the looney bin again. Oh what a joyous day!
Not. I feel even worse now than before I went in. Today I was supposed to go back to school, my plan was to start getting back onto a normal schedule. Not just school, but my entire life. Anybody with Major Depressive Disorder can understand how hard something so small as scraping yourself out of bed to shower, take your medicine, and eat, ends up feeling like you’re climbing Mount Everest. Anyways, rather than going to school, I ended up in the hospital (the regular one this time). It seems that my body has decided to give up again. Believe me, I’m right there with it. My body is severely infected and I cant get my meds until Monday. WAY TO GO shitty American healthcare system.

I’ve missed this, I miss posting here, I miss my followers, the friends I’ve made. Expect posts on a regular basis again guys. I’m not quite sure what days I’m going to do (I haven’t quite gotten that far yet) BUT IM GETTIN’ THERE.

Drafting Suicide Notes (with no intention of using them)

Hey guys,

Today I picked kind of a more odd topic: Is it weird to draft suicide notes as a therapeutic outlet? I had someone send an email (keeping it anonymous) asking about my opinion on this, and of course my opinion is no! its not weird.
I like everyone to keep I mind that grieving process is different for everybody, whether you’re grieving a death, a stressful situation, or just getting through depression. Not everybody can process things smoothly, so naturally we cling to any outlet that we could possibly find and I’ve seen (and used) a very wide range of them. And let’s be honest, most of mine aren’t exactly the healthiest options for myself. Suicide notes usually aren’t about suicide (as confusing as that sounds) it’s usually about expressing how you feel, when you think nobody was ever listening before then. It’s almost like journaling in a morbid kind of way. A few months ago I was completely obsessed with this documentary on Netflix about bipolar disorder I found this one woman that said when she hit the low point of bipolar and felt very suicidal, she would always write a suicide note before she brought herself to doing anything too drastic, because she knew that after the letter was written she felt like she got everything out, and it provided enough of a distraction to where it took the edge off the suicidal urge. And it wasn’t just one or two times that she did it, she kept an entire box of these notes.
Watching that made me feel better because it was then that I realized that I did it too, I usually kept them in my journals though, when I was extremely down I would draft a suicide note in my journal and it made me feel better to express to the world everything that I kept locked inside of me for so long,
so no, I don’t think its weird. I think it’s good that you have an outlet for yourself -KJ

To Post Or Not To Post;

I don’t really know what’s going on with me lately… holy hell. I have TONS of ideas of things that I really have been wanting to post about, there’s a four page long list sitting in the back of my planner. but it’s like every time that I sit down to talk about something it just never comes out the way I want it to. When I first started here I was able to speak my mind without any sort of worry about it, because the only person I was talking to was myself. Once I gained one or two followers it was great because I then had an audience I was able to talk to (a SMALL audience). But now there’s over 160 of you guys. This is MINDBLOWING to me honestly. I started out here as a means to express myself and over time we’ve grown together (those who’ve been around since my fetus days know what I’m talking about) into a place where we come together, it’s not just me going on about my issues but more so me sharing my story and giving my advice to everyone whose asked for it. But that’s the thing, I’m scared to share my story anymore. I know 160 may not be much compared to some of the more successful blogs here but to someone who’s terrified of human contact and has trouble even getting on the phone to order pizza. I find it astounding. So thank you again to everyone who’s been around supporting me. My biggest thing is that I’m scared that my content won’t be considered good enough… but I’ve also been reminding myself that the number of followers here has only been growing. not declining. So guys I promise, I’ll be posting more. Especially starting next month I’ll be posting daily during 25 days of Christmas(:

Relapse

I was so happy with myself, I figured that I was going so far in life, like maybe I was building this base for myself that allowed to be able to start creating a freedom and to start finding myself and actually start my career and school and my new life. In reality though I’m just stuck in a rut. I relapsed and cut again after almost flipping the car. I’m about to go make my appointment to finally take my license test but now I’m starting to second guess if that’d actually be a good idea or not,

on the bright side I started exploring myself in starting my career as a makeup artist and started a beauty blog, I’d love if anyone checked it out? I’ll be posting hauls, lookbooks, ootw’s, and tutorials. Thanks babes.

Tomorrow’s the big day

After so many years of trying to get help, tomorrow is the day I finally go in for therapy for the first time in yeeeears. It’s a new therapist.
Fingers crossed. X

To all of my supporters

well, hello guys.
I know that I said that this blog was going back to beauty things but I’m debating. For now it’s going to stay on my personal life
On that note, thank you to everyone who has ever commented a positive message for me on here, they truly do mean a lot to me. I’m sad to report that I’ve relapsed back into cutting. It may not seem like a big deal but to me it is, I thought I was finally better but I guess not
It feels like these damn antidepressants haven’t began working yet. It’s been over a month, I’m losing hope.
I’m so depressed, It’s now 5pm and I’m already in bed ready to go to sleep.
I feel like a failure, I’ve let everyone down…

I’m sorry.

I’m Locked Up They Won’t Let Me Out

Sorry guys, I’ve had that song (from the title) stuck in my head for a few days…
So I know I said I was going to do an update about how therapy went but I never ended up going. A lot happened that day, I actually ended up getting locked into the mental hospital for five days…
Yeah. I just wanted to let all of you know I’m still alive.
Like if you care to hear about my experience?

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