TW: Mental Health Stuff
I had plans today for writing two posts today, one on the Book of Isaiah and the other a continuation of my response to James White. However, stuff happened, so you get this post instead.
Most of those who know me know about my long term mental health problems. To be specific, my diagnosis (or one of them) is Borderline Personality Disorder. BPD is a complex animal, giving a full explanation of what it's like is difficult, but the worst part of it, is an extreme emotional instability. On a bad day my emptions can swing back and forth at a really scary speed.
This morning, when I started composing this post I was feeling like there was an incredible weight that had somehow been attached to my stomach. The pit of my stomach felt horribly heavy and I had no idea what to do about it. There were a whole lot of things I wanted to do, instead I just lay on my bed thinking about what a horrible person I am. I was pretty certain that if I got up and did something productive, this would have make me feel less horrible, yet there I lay.
Why don't I get up? In large part the answer is because I was scared. Scared of what, I honestly can't tell you, but that's a big part of my condition, frequently, when I try to do something to help me snap out of the condition, I frequently have an awful panic attack, but I can't tell what I'm panicking about.
So, that's been my day, or at least a large part of it. Here's the weird thing, however, I'm not depressed. I've never been depressed, at least in the strict clinical sense, so, if you suffer from depression, I apologise if I get this wrong, I'm going by second hand accounts. If I understand depression correctly, one of the symptoms is anhedonia, or an inability to gain pleasure from the things one would normally enjoy. This isn't a problem for me. I can be in a state of really deep emotional pain and self loathing and still enjoy all the things I would normally enjoy.
So, this morning, after laying on my bed feeling like crap for a bit and writing a first draft of this post, I put some funny videos on YouTube. I enjoyed said videos, and I cheered up, but only to a point. So, for most of today, I've been doing fun things to distract myself, and it has mostly worked, but again, only to a point. For most of today I've been doing things that I've really enjoyed, and my main focus has been on those things. But, always, in the periphery of my attention, that feeling has been there, that feeling that I'm a horrible person, that I hate myself and that everyone would be better off if I killed myself. I've managed to keep those thoughts out of the centre of my consciousness, but I haven't been able to fully escape them.
And that, friends, has been my day.
I had plans today for writing two posts today, one on the Book of Isaiah and the other a continuation of my response to James White. However, stuff happened, so you get this post instead.
Most of those who know me know about my long term mental health problems. To be specific, my diagnosis (or one of them) is Borderline Personality Disorder. BPD is a complex animal, giving a full explanation of what it's like is difficult, but the worst part of it, is an extreme emotional instability. On a bad day my emptions can swing back and forth at a really scary speed.
This morning, when I started composing this post I was feeling like there was an incredible weight that had somehow been attached to my stomach. The pit of my stomach felt horribly heavy and I had no idea what to do about it. There were a whole lot of things I wanted to do, instead I just lay on my bed thinking about what a horrible person I am. I was pretty certain that if I got up and did something productive, this would have make me feel less horrible, yet there I lay.
Why don't I get up? In large part the answer is because I was scared. Scared of what, I honestly can't tell you, but that's a big part of my condition, frequently, when I try to do something to help me snap out of the condition, I frequently have an awful panic attack, but I can't tell what I'm panicking about.
So, that's been my day, or at least a large part of it. Here's the weird thing, however, I'm not depressed. I've never been depressed, at least in the strict clinical sense, so, if you suffer from depression, I apologise if I get this wrong, I'm going by second hand accounts. If I understand depression correctly, one of the symptoms is anhedonia, or an inability to gain pleasure from the things one would normally enjoy. This isn't a problem for me. I can be in a state of really deep emotional pain and self loathing and still enjoy all the things I would normally enjoy.
So, this morning, after laying on my bed feeling like crap for a bit and writing a first draft of this post, I put some funny videos on YouTube. I enjoyed said videos, and I cheered up, but only to a point. So, for most of today, I've been doing fun things to distract myself, and it has mostly worked, but again, only to a point. For most of today I've been doing things that I've really enjoyed, and my main focus has been on those things. But, always, in the periphery of my attention, that feeling has been there, that feeling that I'm a horrible person, that I hate myself and that everyone would be better off if I killed myself. I've managed to keep those thoughts out of the centre of my consciousness, but I haven't been able to fully escape them.
And that, friends, has been my day.
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