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Before I knew anything about borderline personality disorder (BPD) or antidepressants, I knew that pharmaceutical drugs were bad. Or, at least that's what I was told growing up. I learned from a young age not to trust therapists or doctors. Doctors wanted to poison your body, and therapists wanted to poison your mind. Why would I think that? Well, because then it would be easier for them to control you.
Something I have found about having chronic anxiety is that this often leads to avoiding triggers, which includes avoiding conflict. For example, you might find it difficult to set boundaries in a relationship, or you might find that you've been putting off having a difficult conversation with your supervisor at work. For me, this might look like walking away from arguments or being as diplomatic as possible in an interaction with someone to avoid some sort of conflict.
Many individuals are familiar with the fight, flight, freeze, or appease response to trauma. However, one thing I have learned after years of exposure to verbal abuse is that this automatic response can lead to detrimental procrastination in other areas of my life. 
I'll admit, it's difficult sometimes to separate a discussion of mental health from a discussion of race. It's difficult to separate a discussion of anything from a discussion of race, for that matter. During my mental health journey, while adapting to the nuances of navigating my illness, it was not lost on me that race itself was another nuance to navigate. This is just one example of a very long list of factors that felt completely out of my control. Although difficult to accept, realizing that I couldn't fix everything opened me up to more healing and more peace throughout my mental health journey. I realized I didn't have to feel guilty for compartmentalizing race and my mental health. This can be applied to any factor that may feel out of your control and cause added strain on your pursuit of mental wellness. It's okay to let go and prioritize yourself.
It's important, for a variety of reasons, to keep in touch with the events of the world around you. But what do you do when the news triggers your self-harm urges?
It's been over a year since I said goodbye to my sweet pup, Cannelle, a cocker spaniel. I adopted her when she was 18 months old and was blessed to have her by my side for 13 years. Throughout that time, Cannelle helped me in ways that she, of course, could not comprehend. My pup helped me through bouts of mental illness, among other things.
July 12, 2022, was when my life changed forever. On this day, I got diagnosed with double depression, and I have been unable to come to terms with it. Even though I suspected it for a while, I don't know how to accept this as my reality. And I know it will be many moons before I do so.
I tell myself that I write about borderline personality disorder (BPD) because I want to help others struggling with BPD and crisis, among other things. But, if I'm truly being honest here, I'm not writing to others — I'm writing to a former me. I'm writing to the me who spent hours Googling my behavior looking for answers. I'm writing to the me desperately seeking relief from my inner torment. I'm writing to a me I assume is long gone. This time, however, I want to write to a different me. This time, I want to write to the me that thinks she made it to the other side. I want to write to the me who pretends to have some kind of authority on getting through BPD. This time I want to write to today's me.
Over the weekend, I had lunch with a friend I had not seen in five years. During part of our conversation, we discussed the importance of friendships. In this post, I will discuss my friendships at different stages of my life and how they have affected my mental health.
I just returned from a two-week trip overseas to England, Scotland, and Ireland. I love to explore the beauty of this earth and immerse myself in all kinds of unique cultures, but if I am not careful, traveling will often coax my eating disorder back to the surface. While I do have quite an adventurous streak, I also tend to feel anxious when I deviate from my normal routine, which can open the door for a certain uninvited guest—otherwise known as my eating disorder—to hitch a ride on the trip. However, since I am not about to stop traveling, here are a few strategies I use in order to ensure this pesky eating disorder will not ruin my vacation. 

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Pascale B
I was ghosted by me neighbor who has bipolar disorder it hurt a lot

She was a user and entitled anytime she needed something she would ask for my help I would oblige, then one day when I couldn’t take her call she got mad and decided to “ghost” me even though I tried calling her back to see if everything was ok. Sorry I can’t be at her every beck and call waiting on her needs hand and foot I was in class when she called twice in a row. When she would get what she wanted she would toss me to the side I forgave her many times and told myself it’s ok, well it’s NOT ok not acceptable. When I texted her the next day to ask her if everything was ok since I missed her call she said “she’s busy” excuse me she’s a stay at home mom I work all week and have an entire home to manage as well as personal appointments to keep every day after work… who called who to bother them? She called me it wasn’t the other way around so when you say your “busy” don’t blow up my phone the day before because I am 10 times more busy than you are juggling my career, house work and personal responsibilities while you are a stay at home mom who looks at her window and spies on our neighbors all day long. Anyway now she does not speak to me she ignores me and if she sees me she pretends as if I am dead and put a sticker on her car that says “not today satan” lady are you talking to me? She has issues she’s a user throws people to the side when she gets what she needs out of them and if you can’t take her call one time she will discard you as if you never existed in her phone book or life. She will go to hell for her ghosting and say hi to satan every day in her afterlife for the hurt she has caused becuse I was nothing but nice and helpful to her and all I got in return was a slap to the face, very hurtful and rude. I never ever once asked her to help me I am very self sufficient she always needed my help and now I am ghosted. That’s why I decided to no longer help people who are users.
Paula
I'm 68 and picked bug bites into scabs and then picked the scabs repeatedly as a child. My parents constantly yelled at me for picking and my father warned me he'd bring me to "The Scratching Lady" if I didn't stop. The SL and her son lived in a home where everything was blood-soaked due to their constant picking. I was probably around 5 years old and had many allergies . One day, the family was in the car and I picked a scab. My sister ratted on me and the next thing I know, my Dad is pulling into the driveway of the SL and pulling a hysterical me out of the backseat. After what seemed like an eternity, he relented. I really don't remember the rest. The scratching behavior ended well over 50 years ago but has recently started back up in the last year or so. Go figure.
Jaedra
I really appreciate this article. I struggle with extreme guilt, not only over my anxiety and how it affects others, but also over having the anxiety in the first place.

I have a hard time keeping friendships, but even things like doctor-patient relationships are challenging for me. For example, I’m plagued with thoughts about: do I come across as critical of them when I ask too many questions or seek reassurance because I am anxious (or when I ask the same question more than once because I’m still anxious), do I sound dismissive or unappreciative, am I irritating when I call because of a concern that turns out to be nothing?

And then I get into loop of swearing I won’t call ever again, I won’t say if I’m afraid something is wrong because I know it’s probably just anxiety, and I’ll get it right at my next appointment. I’ll only be positive, and I won’t ask too many questions and I’ll do it right this time.

And then, I ask stupid questions and fear that I come across as unappreciative and have screwed it all up. And then I have guilt over being such a terrible person to deal with, and also that I am anxious and it’s annoying (and I imagine easily misinterpreted as me being nit-picky and neurotic, both of which are true I guess).

Sometimes the guilt and shame feel like the world is ending, and I wish I could just be normal, be OK, and get it right.
Carole Stedronsky
"Trying to understand" is a very good place to be with DID. One helpful way of thinking about your friend's DID is that the person or human being he is is all of his parts together (like a family, team, or village). Different people with DID have different sorts of internal systems. But whichever self-part is upfront, talking, is part of the whole person. Each self-part has a role, and all the parts are of equal importance. Often, switches happen subtly and might not be apparent. If you are a friend to this person, you are a friend to all-the-parts-of-him. So for sure, talk to different parts. Also, an important part of the DID healing journey is increasing communication and cooperation between parts.
Lynn Bubbz
I've recently been diagnosed with Stills Disease and because this disease is rare the symptoms are indifferent. I have days where I'm aching and feel so awful. Those are the days I need my husband's love but I never get it. Instead I get yelled at or feel like I'm unworthy to be shown love to especially when I'm ill. He makes me feel so unwanted. I cry alone in the shower I even hide my sadness.