When Ruby asked me if I’d like to contribute to Canvas I was excited. As in really excited. As in ‘I’m a bit bouncy and excited’ excited. I bounced around for a bit, being all excited and then it started to dawn on me that if I wanted to write something for Canvas I’d actually have to sit down and write something. If I’m honest I sat down to try and write something quite a few times. I’ve always been a perfectionist. And I’ve always been struck by the irony that when you’re a perfectionist there is no such thing as perfection. Continue reading
I have BPD. In the past, I never realised that I feel emotions more easily, more deeply, and for longer than others do. I thought the intensity of my emotions was normal. Turns out, it’s not. I read somewhere that in non-BPD people an emotion typically fires for 12 seconds. In BPD’ers it can last up to 20 percent longer. BPD’ers emotions also repeatedly re-fire, or re-live, or recur, however you want to say it, so emotional reactions occur for even longer. I do. I go over and over and over the emotions, pinging from one to another like a steel ball in a pinball machine. Continue reading
When I received the job offer a few weeks ago I thought it over for a few days before excitedly accepting. My new manager arranged that she would send me some paperwork to fill out, and the next week we would meet so I could have a look around one of the branch practices I would be working in.
When I’d quit my previous job a few weeks ago I never expected to land on my feet. My parents were terrified that I had no long term prospects and I was just going to be a temp nurse. Continue reading
Several things have inspired the ideas behind this post. A realization I had when I read Ruby’s post “Behind the Curtain” sparked an idea. DeeDee’s post about compartmentalization has jumpstarted my thinking gears. Finally, there are just my own thoughts of late . . . I think I can synthesize all of these issues, and that’s what I’m going to try to do with this post.
After I read Ruby’s post and her reply to my comment, it occurred to me that I let my mental health issues define me simply by focusing on hiding them. Continue reading
There are some things you may already vaguely know about me. My real name is Carrie and I have an alternate personality whom I call Charlotte (not to mention the poor guy, Jack, in the back ground who hardly gets a say in anything). I live in the UK near London, by the sea. I am almost 30 years old. I suffer from depression, I have recently been diagnosed with Emotional Dysregulation Disorder (the new name for BPD) and have lived with a host of psychiatric conditions since I was a child.
I am also a Veterinary Nurse. Continue reading
I always put this down to perhaps I’m a horrible person. I seem to go through friends like nobodies business and always blame myself when the friendship falls apart.
Since my diagnosis with Borderline Personality Disorder (or Emotional Dysregulation Disorder, whatever you want to call it), researching the illness and the way other sufferers perceive the world has helped me realise that I’m not entirely to blame and it is my point of view of things that is askew. Continue reading
This topic stems from an idea that I had in relation to the post Be Your Own Advocate.
It’s something I occasionally allude to on my personal blog and in my comments on others’ blogs. Over the last two and a half years (has it really only been that long?), I’ve learned a lot about how to compose myself when discussing matters with other mental health professionals.
First, let’s go over my successive period of interactions with mental health professionals. Continue reading
Nearly two years ago, I had a mental breakdown. I struggled for 8 months going to therapy and trying several different medications before things became too serious and unbearable and so I went in to hospital. During these 8 months prior to hospitalisation, things snowballed out of control. I was self-harming and committing self-destructive acts and generally toiling with my own life. It was probably only a matter of time until something serious would have happened to me so I am thankful to my psychologist and to myself, that we could see that I couldn’t continue on and we needed something to change big time. Continue reading