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all because of him
i don’t see the point in putting 100% of myself into another person isn’t it just inevitable that you’ll get hurt? i still feel this way, yet i am 100% in it’s not about him, it’s about me i was violated and ravaged violently by so many others and now, i don’t trust i don’t trust myself i don’t trust that my heart won’t turn on me the moment the last hole in my heart finally heals, the scar tissue softens and my soul opens up, he’ll be gone if i trust myself, i won’t have any protection like a bullet proof vest that has just one weak seam, if…
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Lover’s Despair
Original artwork found on Pixabay under CCL End creation by Maeve B Hendrix
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Stigma vs. Comedy
Ignorance or comedy? Sometimes I turn on a show that is famous for getting laughs and I admit, I laugh too, but what happens when they make jokes about mental health? I sometimes wonder if it’s just for comedic purposes or if it’s still really the stigma and ignorance attached to mental health. I was watching a show the other night and the female character was teasing the male character about his past girlfriends. Random comments like their obsession about cats or makeup. One comment she made was, “Oh, the one with borderline personality disorder?”. I understand it’s supposed to be funny, but it’s just not. As someone with disorder,…
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harceleuse
the windy night, hot and dusty, holds me back from taking a deep breath sometimes i look out into the dark road and wonder where you went as i walk past the cookie-cutter houses with the gaslights, i wonder if the shadow i see behind the curtains may be you i lost you along time ago you left with a rush, replaced by the internal demon that grabs a hold at night squeezing my breath, suffocating me into silence i hear your footsteps behind me, thudding hard on the hot ground i see my breath this time i dont look back i know you’re here to stay, you never intended…
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new diagnosis vs. old thinking
I got a new diagnosis this week of Agoraphobia (ag-uh-ruh-FOE-be-uh) is a type of anxiety disorder in which you fear and avoid places or situations that might cause you to panic and make you feel trapped, helpless or embarrassed). I always thought my intense fear of going out in public was my anxiety, but a new doc said it’s classic agoraphobia, which makes a lot of sense. The funny thing is, my thinking has changed, but since getting this new information, my brain automatically thought it was panic mode again. I had a huge meltdown (aka panic attack) and instantly thought I was broken. Why didn’t I think I was…
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Why growing up without social media was better for mental health.
80’s Girl I grew up in the 80’s and went to junior high and high school in the 90’s and back then, the internet was considered a new thing. There was AOL chat and maybe chat rooms, but nothing Facebook or Twitter today. Social media is a fantastic thing, but it can be pretty toxic for mental health too. If we wanted news, we turned on the tv or read a newspaper. Celebrity gossip, we read a magazine. Beauty tips, we may peruse a magazine at a book store. Smart phones weren’t really a thing until I graduated high school in 1996, but even then, you had to be pretty…
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When my mental illness makes me feel abandoned
Abandonment My mental illness makes me feel abandoned by old friends. I have friends, I guess, but when I see them having fun without me, I feel so hurt. I have to believe it’s nothing personal, but I understand it’s hard to be around someone who isn’t always smiling, talking or having a few cocktails. My mental illness tells me that they don’t want to be my friend anymore. My mind tells me I am worthless of friendship. That the people they hang out with are probably more fun, spontaneous and energetic. Maybe those people are better friends. Maybe those people don’t cancel plans or feel anxious all the time.…
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a little piece of dysfunctional
newest
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the direction of choices
I’ve been asked a thousand times… “Do you want to die?”. Doctors, therapists, counselors, medical techs and a whole host of random medical professionals. My answer to them. “No.” But it’s not the truth. Well, sort of. I do want to die….but, I don’t. I don’t want to actually die by my own hand. I don’t want to leave my family and friends, my life, my future dreams, but the pain of anxiety and depression makes me want to die. I know..it sounds very contradictory. I get it. How can someone want to die, but yet not want to die? Isn’t it kind of like being “a little bit pregnant”?…