In my mind, I am normal. This is because I live with me twenty-four seven (OK, not always twenty-four seven because some of those hours I am asleep).
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
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’ve been wondering recently (as always) why I am the way I am.
I’ve been trying to come up with an explanation.
It feels like I can’t help these ways. I think the way I think because of all that I am, and all that has happened. I feel like I use it as an excuse, but am I allowed to feel that way? Continue reading
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
A long, long time ago. . . (okay, two months, but right now time is relative), I wrote a post about diving into the world of looking for a new psychiatrist (It’s Time To Say Goodbye). I sort of had it in my head that I could write posts about my search here on Canvas. This would be the first, because my moods went off the map and I subsequently slipped off of the radar temporarily.
I’ve had two appointments with one doctor, and one with another. I also have a consult scheduled in January with a third. But before I get much further into to how things are going, I should probably just get my views out here. They’re pretty crucial to understanding my experiences and this post. Continue reading
Tomorrow, two p.m., I have an appointment with my psychiatrist. It will be my last.
Those of you who have kept up with my personal blog know that we have had other last appointments before. But this one will be IT, because I have decided I cannot ever trust him again (he manipulated me into ECT and my own personal Hell ensued), and he has decided he wants to take on a less complicated caseload. Simple, even ‘less complicated’ doesn’t apply to me in any aspect of my life. Continue reading