Welcome to A Life WIth Mental Illness

This is a record of living with mental illness and its effects on all aspects of my life.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

It's Not Getting Any Better

I woke up depressed and with dread. It took me almost three hours to get out of bed. I doubled my medication for the day with the hope that it will pick me up at some point. Still having thoughts about suicide. I don't want to go back to where I was during 2009-2013. That was nearly unbearable. Eating poorly, not exercising, isolating from family and friends - all spells trouble. I just keep thinking that it would be better for everyone, including me, for me to be dead. I'm trying to just let myself feel these feelings and let them go. It's hard because I want to hurry them away. Pray.

Monday, April 13, 2015

Getting Worse

I have sweated through all of my t-shirt and pullover. The sweat stains run down my arms and onto my shoulders and back. I just think death would be easier than this. I'm too isolated. I know I need to reach out, but I'm afraid of scaring people away. What can I do? I am listening to music. I need to dive into the waves and feel the feelings. There's nothing else that I know what to do. Am I having a panic attack? No. It's just self-hate coming on strong. Meditate and take-and-send will help. This will pass. It will.

Crash

I have been doing okay for about 2-3 weeks when the bottom completely disappeared and I began a free-fall into depression. Not sleeping, gaining weight, suicidal thoughts - the whole enchilada. I really don't know why this is happening. I'm trying all my usual strategies to stop the pain, but so far I've failed. The suicidal thoughts are stronger than usual. I feel especially worthless. I know I just have to hurt my way through this, pain my way to another place. It's hard work and I'm tired of having to work on this.

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Honesty

I have lied - not told the truth - for most of my life. These range from the big lies - crime, mental illness - to the small - saying "I'm fine" when asked how I am. I have dedicated myself to be more honest this year. It is not easy. I am so afraid of disappointing people and being attacked, swallowed by their anger. I imagine that if I told the truth to someone and they become upset about it they will stab me (repeatedly) with a long knife. I will die. I know this is crazy, but it's reality for me. Every moment that I'm honest in an uncomfortable encounter is a huge risk for me. I'm working with a friend on this and his help is invaluable. I call him and tell him what has gone well and what has bombed during the week in terms of my honesty. He lets me know that he works on honesty too and that it is a challenge to stay with the difficult feelings and face the consequences of speaking and acting truthfully. I am terrified of not pleasing the other person. If I don't please you, I will die. And I should die - this is the added kicker to my situation. I believe that I am not worth the truth. In fact, my truth is that I am not worth anything. This truth harms more than just myself. It disallows open, compassionate relationships. It strangles love. It makes me an impossible person - all bad and worthless, a type of negative narcissism. Why do people loom so large and menacingly for me and why do I believe I am important enough to upset them at all? I don't know. The only truth I know to combat this is love. Love for others and love for myself. Love is not fear or hope. Fear and hope are traps, deadly holes with spikes of steel and wood. I impale myself on a death by impossibilities. I need to learn that love = honesty.

Friday, March 20, 2015

Waiting For Disaster

I'm catastrophizing yet again. This time I am focused on something awful happening to a family member. I believe that if I act and think in certain ways then the disaster won't happen. Crazy attempt at perfection and control. Narcissism that I have that power over events and lives. It makes me sad too. I don't really enjoy much in life because I'm always anticipating bad news or making a mistake that will have dire consequences. I didn't have the suicide question when I woke up this morning. Maybe I'm just prone to being a glass-half-empty person. It's strange because I also have confidence in my hp, which should translate to confidence in myself. But that's not the case. I separate myself from my life so much that I don't ever really connect. My life will be miserable but I'll get by okay. That just doesn't seem right to me. Maybe it's as simple as detachment and believing that I will be able to live with pain and loss and shame and grief and self-hate. I have for so long and there's no reason to believe I won't in the future. I'm definitely more comfortable and forgiving of myself with regard to sadness, shame and self-hate. I'm learning to detach from my negative self-harm. I let it happen without grasping - sometimes. I'm really just making progress toward this, but it's progress that matters.

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Dangerous Thoughts

For some unknown reason I'm beginning to have suicidal thoughts again. I try not to hold onto them, just let them pass. I meditate and pray and these help, but I would like to know why this is happening now. My medication is the same. I've started exercising at a gym. Work is going pretty well. Home life is okay, too. Still, I wake up again with the question "Is today the day I kill myself?" I always answer "No," but just having the thought is disturbing. I know I won't commit suicide because I don't want to hurt people I love. So why even ask the question? It adds stress and sadness, which I don't need in my life. I need to turn this over to my HP and begin to build trust in myself that I'll be okay. Okay is my goal, really. Anything more than that sort of scares me. I believe I'll only be disappointed.

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Sirius Self

I'm being crushed down into my sirius self, pounded by steel waves. Decades of guilt and fear and shame and self-hate overwhelm me. And I dive into these emotions as my first therapist suggested. Dive in, be overwhelmed, come up for air and dive again and again. I have no eyes or ears or mouth. I struggle to gain my footing, to overcome the waves, but I cannot. I lose. There is no resting place, only death. My constant companion now. No arms, only leg and feet. I cripple myself with self-loathing. Dying seems better after this.