Put me on your life support

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.

2012 and today

So, 2012... what can I say? My psychologist quit, my dad died, my boyfriend dumped me after one and a half year, and I was committed to, and discharged from, an adolescent psychiatric ward. That's the sequential order of... major events, my dad's death being the biggest one. The only thing I achieved was, well, to not kill myself. I didn't even attempt, although I was very close. There's been a couple of visits to the emergency room and my doctor's office to get stitches, but that's it. No overdose (as that's my usual method when I attempt), no ambulance, no hospital, no gastric lavage, no observation or lying unconscious in the ICU. Is it sad if I say that that's an accomplishment?

Seriously, how messed up is that? Yay, I didn't try to kill myself last year. Amazing. When I looked forward to becoming a teenager and growing up, this really wasn't what I imagined. Y'know, self harm, suicide attempts, hospitals, psych wards, years of therapy, countless emergency appointments, medications. Severe depression with psychotic features (in my case, those are auditory hallucinations, paranoia, and delusions), personality disorders, an eating disorder, generalized anxiety, panic attacks brought on by the personality disorders and generalized anxiety. Wanting to die rather than staying alive 'cause it's less frightening, yet being too scared of dying. Being so unstable that I mess up every relation I have.

I'm 18, and I'm still as sad and stuck as I was when I was 13-14. I'm worse. I'll admit I haven't always been very... receptive of treatment, but a lot of the time, I've been trying my best. Yet, here I am; worse. I haven't tried to kill myself in over a year, but I'm still at my worst so far.

My emotions are all over the place. They fluctuate from euphoric heights to uncontrollable rage to the depths of depression to crippling anxiety within hours/minutes/seconds. I don't know how to control it. I can't control it. It happens so quickly that I don't get the time to react. It's never been this bad before. I don't know how to cope with it. I want to explain it, but it's difficult. It's complex and hard to convey how debilitating it is. Maybe I'll make a post about it.

2013 has been shitty so far. It's only been eight days, but I've spent the most part in my room; blinds shut, lights off, lying in bed, listening to music, crying, cutting... a couple of days ago, I just couldn't sleep at all, so I tried taking some of the meds I took to be able to sleep before. Turns out that if you take 100mg of Truxal when you've been off of it for a while, you'll wet yourself in your sleep and pass out whenever you try to get out of bed when you wake up (and then you have to sleep some more to feel better), even though you've taken higher dosages daily before. Fantastic. Well, at least I got some deep sleep. I don't have much of a reason to stay awake anymore.

I honestly don't think I'll live through this year. That's not a threat. It's more of a realization. I know I'll be the end of me. It's both terrifying, and somewhat a relief.

Picture // private