I think some people who have been (and are) in my life have had (and have) some misconceptions about what I mean when I say I want support. A lot of the time, all I hear is "how can we support what you're doing to yourself?"
That's not what I mean. I don't want anyone to support my slow and meticulous self-destruction. I want support to get better - to recover. I just want someone to hug me and tell me everything is going to be okay, and even if I under most circumstances wouldn't believe a word of it, I still would because I needed to. I want someone to hold me when I'm scared and keep me safe. I want someone to just let me cry in their arms and tell me that they love me, and that even though they're worried about me, they won't leave because they care so much about me. I want encouragement and praise when I make progress, and reassurance that everyone can make mistakes and that it's okay to fall down when I relapse. I want to be taken seriously and to have my problems acknowledged, not belittled. I want acknowledgement for trying my best. I want someone to see past my problems and love the person behind these illnesses. I don't want to be seen as a disorder, I want to be seen as someone who has a disorder but who shouldn't be defined by it and is a real person nonetheless. I want help to get through all of this and to recover and find some sort of normalcy and stability in my life. I want to get help to get back on the track of life and to reach the finish line and actually start living.
Wednesday 10 April 2013
Sunday 7 April 2013
An update, I suppose
I hardly ever post here. I don't know, there are many things I want to say, things I need to get off my chest... but when I try to write, it always ends up as an inconsistent mess; it makes no sense. Pretty much like me, I guess.
I've been given a one month break from my internship. It's been too hard lately. My mind's been too preoccupied with other things, and I've felt like such a failure even there, a place that's supposed to be therapeutic. My caseworker assured me that they're not supposed to have to rely on me there, that I'm not supposed to answer to them, which actually is a huge relief. I feel like I'm not doing enough and that I'm disappointing everyone, and hearing that, and not having to worry about it and feel so guilty for a while is nice.
I saw my doctor on Thursday. She upped the dosage of my medication again. I don't notice any difference. I told her that I really want to see my medical files and read the notes all the people whom I've met while being a psychiatric patient have written. I've wanted to read it for a long time, but it kind of terrifies me. I'm scared of seeing what they've said about me because what if they've said lots of negative stuff? Maybe they've said that I'm exaggerating or lying... maybe they think I'm stupid... but I want to know what it says. Some of the things in my discharge papers from the last time I was inpatient upset me, but I liked reading it anyway. I especially want to see the notes and discharge papers from the times I've been in the emergency ward, and the notes taken by my most recent male psychologist. I really liked him. I really miss him as my therapist.
I finally got to meet and talk to the guy I like this week, too. I don't really know what to do about that. I feel a bit better now, though, and have managed to keep my insecurities and fears at bay since then (which is only a few days, but that's still a huge accomplishment). I'm still confused, though. Confused, scared, conflicted. About... pretty much everything. I really like him, though. I think I might be falling in love with him... shit. That's not good at all. Everything is so confusing.
I've been given a one month break from my internship. It's been too hard lately. My mind's been too preoccupied with other things, and I've felt like such a failure even there, a place that's supposed to be therapeutic. My caseworker assured me that they're not supposed to have to rely on me there, that I'm not supposed to answer to them, which actually is a huge relief. I feel like I'm not doing enough and that I'm disappointing everyone, and hearing that, and not having to worry about it and feel so guilty for a while is nice.
I saw my doctor on Thursday. She upped the dosage of my medication again. I don't notice any difference. I told her that I really want to see my medical files and read the notes all the people whom I've met while being a psychiatric patient have written. I've wanted to read it for a long time, but it kind of terrifies me. I'm scared of seeing what they've said about me because what if they've said lots of negative stuff? Maybe they've said that I'm exaggerating or lying... maybe they think I'm stupid... but I want to know what it says. Some of the things in my discharge papers from the last time I was inpatient upset me, but I liked reading it anyway. I especially want to see the notes and discharge papers from the times I've been in the emergency ward, and the notes taken by my most recent male psychologist. I really liked him. I really miss him as my therapist.
I finally got to meet and talk to the guy I like this week, too. I don't really know what to do about that. I feel a bit better now, though, and have managed to keep my insecurities and fears at bay since then (which is only a few days, but that's still a huge accomplishment). I'm still confused, though. Confused, scared, conflicted. About... pretty much everything. I really like him, though. I think I might be falling in love with him... shit. That's not good at all. Everything is so confusing.
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