#me when i did an intense outpatient program

[y0urgrl]

triggered panic attacks should go crawl back into whatever hell that birthed them

[iphigeniacomplex]

my first year of high school i was in this intensive outpatient exposure therapy program which i attended for the first half of every other weekday, or something. it was in this out-of-the-way room in some sort of hospital; the memories flicker a bit because i've been in a lot of rooms with buzzy fluorescent lights and adults who talk to me like a dog, so they sort of blur together. there are a few things that distinguish my time in iop, though, and one of those is the little boy on the other side of the room, with a different small group of kids and therapists, who screamed endlessly. he couldn't have been much older than eleven. he would come in every day a bit after me and start screaming and i would put my head down on the table between my arms, trying to cover my ears. i never heard him say a word. there was a tiny empty room they sent him to, but it wasn't actually soundproof, just a little further away, so everything we did at the program was accompanied by the background score of a little boy screaming in another room. at the time i found it only a bit more annoying than the slight buzzing of the fluorescent lights, because none of the adults gave any indication that something was wrong here, and all of us kids were crazy anyway. i graduated the summer before my sophomore year, and he was still there when i left. i don't remember his name or what he looked like, and it's not like i could reach back and save him if i did.

[scarrletmoon]

x

seeing the messages other people got from the same anon and wondering again what the fuck i did to make people constantly shit on me

what did i do. can someone please tell me what i did to put a target on my back

i made jokes on twitter that i had to delete or apologize for bc people called me a bully. i had to apologize for things i didn’t even SAY. i had a “friend” berate me for just mentioning characters i apparently wasn’t supposed to mention. when i asked what i could do differently,i was told it was obvious and that they couldn’t hold my hand and explain why what i did was wrong and it wasn’t about me anyway and why did i have to act like i was being attacked when i wasnt the only one being called out?

someone emailed me for days to tell me that a fic i wrote had traumatized people i’d never even met. i took it down and spent a year convinced just existing was hurting people. twice in the last year ive been more suicidal than i’ve ever been in my life. i checked myself in to an intensive outpatient program bc i knew id try to end my life bc i was so sure that it would be a good thing to do. bc clearly the world was worse with me in it, and if i cared about the people i loved, dying would save them from me

and then i come back from that and it’s still not enough and even though the izzy people have left me alone, i have to sit here and pretend im not seeing racist shit from people praised for that racist shit, i have people expecting me to be some sort of Black Spokesperson, i have people looking to me like im not a person but a thing to project their frustration on

what did i DO. what am i projecting. how do i fix it. please, i keep asking and no one will tell me but i must have done SOMETHING. i’ve been in so many fandoms, lived this long and it’s never been this intense or this bad before

is it because i talked about izzy on twitter? is that it? if i just stop, if i leave, does it get better? if i never post again, if i disappear

i mean i guess it has to bc then im not around making it obvious i exist and the people who don’t like me will hopefully forget i exist

bc at this point idk that i’ve actually made this space better. if people think im walking around looking for targets to kick out of the fandom, i shouldn’t be here

[honor-cxde]

OOC update:

// It's been an interesting few days for me. By interesting, I mean chock full of shitty realizations about myself and emotional turmoil that has left me absolutely drained. I may be spotty for a while, but real life comes first. However, so many of you that I talk and write with online are some of my only sources of joy, and I don't want to leave my online friends out of the loop. Trigger warnings in tags.

I'm an alcoholic. I've known this for a while, what I did not realize NEAR soon enough is that I am unable to beat my disease on my own. I thought, up until Wednesday morning, that I could just stop. That I could just choose to stop, and made up excuses as to why I wasn't.

But if I don't actually, truly stop, I am going to be dead in another ten years. Maybe less. I already have liver dysfunction. I have driven friends away. My life is falling apart around me and it has to end. I don't want to BE this anymore.

I've signed up for an intensive outpatient rehab program, and am going to take some partial short-term disability off of work to do it. I don't know how long it will take, but I will do it for however long it takes. Gonna be drowning in therapy, yo, no doubt addressing buried shit I have no idea about myself.

So ... I don't think I'm going to be a great RP partner for a while starting next week when I begin my program. I don't know. But I'm still on discord and will welcome any and all character distractions, because I may need them.

Anyway. The more people I tell, the more real it is. And the more people I tell, the more people will be disappointed in me if I fail. Thanks.

[yourlocal-goodgirl]

So I’m a guy, and I know that society treats me differently than it does women, but I have a pretty bad case of depression and body dysmorphia as well. To the point where once I lost all the weight, I then started abusing steroids. The type of steroids that I was using are notorious for exacerbating pre-existing mental health issues. I was the “fat kid” my whole life growing up and even when I was in my absolute best shape, all I saw was a fat fuck when I looked in the mirror.

It takes a massive amount of work to see through the filter that your brain puts over your eyes, but I swear to you that it’s possible. I’m still very picky with what shirts I wear because of how they fit. I still feel guilt about some of the foods I eat. Some days I will refuse to look at myself naked in the mirror. But most days I’m okay.

I’m so sorry that you struggle with social anxiety and seeing yourself in a positive light. But like the others have stated already, there’s definitely someone out there that finds you attractive.

If you’re interested, I’d be happy to come out of anonymous and discuss it more with you and show you pics of when I was struggling. Idk if it will help, but I felt I should at least offer.

thanks for sharing this. it's obvious that women are treated very poorly based on their weight, body shape, appearance, etc. but people don't often take into consideration the effect that media and body shaming have on men as well. men aren't allowed to talk about it either, they aren't allowed to talk about how they feel about their body or how it's impacting their mental health. it's seen as this horrible thing to ever comment on a woman's body, but comments are constantly made about men's bodies to their faces. body dysmorphia, especially muscle dysmorphia, is more common than you'd think in men but literally nobody talks about it. i swear i'm not being a pick-me lol, my degree is in psychology and i've just seen firsthand what BDD looks like in a man and how hard it can be to try to get help for. it sucks. no person, man or woman, should have to feel bad about themselves because of the way others treat them. you're strong and brave and i'm so glad you've gotten to a place where you feel okay most days! i've healed tremendously from my eating disorder after several years of intensive therapy and being put into an outpatient program for a few months. it was something i genuinely never thought i was going to be able to recover from, but i did. so i'm hoping and praying that the same might be able to happen to me someday with my body image issues. i don't have to love my body or feel confident, i just want to accept it and be okay with it. i don't want to feel disgust when i see myself or hate myself because of the way i look when that's such an insignificant part of who i am as a person. i want to get better, i just don't know how when society is so fucking mean to women like me. idk. that was a long rant i apologize.

you're more than welcome to shoot me a dm if you want to talk more about this. it's something i'm pretty open about so yeah, any time.

[sacrificethemtothesquid]

Ssp top hits - AO3 era

Tagged by the lovely and talented @thebyrchentwigges, who is a gorgeous human being I adore.

The preamble: So, wanted to get some hiatus rec lists going and encourage some self promo in my friends so how about sharing your top fics no matter how big or small - give us the links to your wonderful words with the Most hits/Most kudos/Most comments/Most bookmarks/Most words/Least words.

Sadly it has been AGES since I've touched fic, but this is a good opportunity to go poke through unfinished projects. (She says, fully aware of the unfinished novel burning a hole in her browser tabs...)

Most Hits/Most Kudos/Most Comments: The Length and Breadth of Fury Road. Mad Max: Fury Road, Max/Furiosa.

Max leaves, and Furiosa stays.

I posted the first chapter of this exactly two weeks after the movie came out when there were like six other fics in existence anywhere, so I was very very lucky to catch the new-fandom wave of interest. (Why did you wait two whole weeks, you might ask? Chop chop, time's a-wasting. I was too busy seeing the movie four times in the theater, but after that fourth screening, my poor husband was like, "...can we maybe see something else?") This fic defined my entire life for three years, introduced me to some of the most amazing people I've ever met, and my life has never been the same.

Most Words: The Moth. Horizon: Zero Dawn, Aloy/Erend.

Moths seek out light, he thinks, and die for it. Maybe they know, but they still can’t stay away. He feels like that, a slow, inexorable urge to set himself on fire in the wild blaze of her hair.

I would have bet money that L&B would make a complete sweep of this, but apparently Moth edges it out by almost 4k. I'm not as proud of this one, because I don't think it's written as well. It spanned the year I was in a protracted bipolar breakdown, including the period where I was in an intensive outpatient program, so while it did a good job keeping me afloat, when I go back and reread it, it's very obvious (to my eye) I wasn't at the top of my game. It was great fun though.

Least Words, overall: DAI Drabbles. Dragon Age Inquisition, gen.

Random drabbles of my headcanon. I reserve the right to move them to other works as they fit.

Technically, these are not drabbles (not exactly 100 words, but ah well) and they're not technically their own fic, just fragments of the larger DAI epic that I never quite got into. (You can thank Fury Road for that abrupt pivot.) I have a ton more DAI that I never uploaded, so maybe at some point I'll get bored one day and tackle that disappointing mess.

Least Words, completed fic: The Things Left Behind. Dragon Age Inquisition, Blackwall/Female Trevelyan.

“Thom Rainier?” she hears herself say, her voice calm and collected and very, very far away. “No. I didn’t know him at all.”

I never would have let my Inquisitor have anything other than a happy ending, but some itches just need to be scratched.

Now, for the tagging! I am so shit at picking people, because I know SO MANY excellent fic writers and I have no idea who has already seen this meme. So, at complete random: @silver-dream89 @aubade @theherocomplex @fuckyeahisawthat and anyone else who is even vaguely interested. Love you all!

[angelosearch]

A quick little meditation I wrote on why it is so painful to update my resume. I may delete this later because I might turn it into a larger personal essay piece.

It is 10:35 am and I am sitting in front of my laptop’s brutally large screen, fixating on the thin line the blinks on the document in front of me.

The document is my résumé, circa December 2021.

That was two years. That was one hospital stay, three intensive outpatient programs, and a two month stay in residential care ago. That was two jobs ago. The person reflected in this document represents an ideal self that I no longer aspire to embody: A girl, reeling from the reckoning of her CPTSD, hanging on the vestiges of a career that constantly reminded her of her flaws and insignificance.

And in that torrent of criticism and mistreatment, she felt at home. Her jobs became her family. If she could just be enough, then they would see her, then they would understand that she shouldn’t have to push herself to the brink of mania to earn their love. But even when they did try to claim she was talented, she twisted the words into lies and duties. This was the bare minimum. This is what she had to do. She was not worthy of real admiration.

Yet, she constantly kept trying to outrun one family to try to find one that would treat her differently, somehow without altering the contract of her contact. This document is a map of that attempt of escape, littered with sparkling phrases like “proficient in project management” and “developed effective marketing strategy.” Do any of these phrases truly fit what she has done? Is anything she has ever accomplished impressive in any way?

“Has anyone ever believed in you in your entire life?” One boss once asked her.

The question from the democratic ex-mayoral candidate turned marketing director caused her to spin out.

If they have, I’ve never recognized it—for all words in a language that you do not speak sound like gibberish the first time you hear them.

This man made her feel as though he believed in her, and she said as much on one autumn morning in the lobby of a hotel in Phoenix, Arizona where they had just pulled off a successful presentation as exhibitors at a conference.

But she required too much patience and too much medical leave when her illness reached its peak. He fired her on the phone while a messy medication transition left her unable to move for several days. He did so subtly that she had no idea she had lost her job, her purpose, until human resources called and explained how to return her computer.

That’s the last entry on the résumé.

I am changing this document to capture a version of myself who belongs in an Art Therapy graduate program. It reads like an obituary for a woman who knew nothing of setting boundaries or connecting with her inner child.

If she is not dead, I’d like to kill her.

But how can I shape this disparate smattering of “wear a lot of hats” skills into something that resembles the creativity, compassion, and emotional intelligence required of an Art Therapist?

Résumé and resume are such similar words in the English language that the modern spelling of the former word has dropped it’s accents to be more easily written online. To resume is to pick up after a pause—but I have always been told negative space in your work history is unacceptable.

But despite that, I am resuming. This isn’t even my first period of resume.

It’s funny how those gaps on your résumé are seen as something negative. I’ve learned more, and more valuable, things in the times between my jobs than I ever did in them. I cannot explain it in bullet points or with stop and end dates, but I do have experience with creativity and compassion and emotional intelligence. I’ve sat on a couch instead of an office chair and I’ve grabbed tissues instead of leaflets. I talked a woman, frightened and in chronic pain, through her first few days of residential care. I’ve been told my capacity for vulnerability makes space for others.

Can I list the applause I got from my peers as I left the treatment center as professional recognition?

No. We all must come to our places of work as unbroken things who swear their lives to the job. We get paid to lie about not just being there to be paid. The only true passion you must clock in for is the passion to stay alive.

I hope that the world of Art Therapy is different, but upfront I must pretend that I have an acceptable amount of trauma and valuable work experiences.  It’s makeup over a scar on my neck that looks like a hickey—an undeniable part of me too easily misunderstood to be revealed at the offset.

The true contents of what may make me good at my job may never be revealed to my colleagues, peers, or clients, and certainly will not be quantified on this document.

And so I move sections around on my resume like puzzle pieces and hope it matches the picture on the box.

[the-light-finds-its-way]

I'm... Not ok. Sis is being awful to me.

She wrote a note on the table, I didn't get out of bed, and she got mad I didn't see it.

Then she sent me a link to an intensive outpatient therapy program she attended, saying ONCE AGAIN that I follow her patterns, I do what she did at my age, etc. And that I shouldn't be with my therapist, I should change therapists. She's been telling me this for a year now. She also says our father isn't abusing me at all. She's a witness to his constant abuse.

Then!!! She fucking suicide baited me AGAIN!!! She guilted me by saying she's afraid she'll wake up one day and find me dead! I have given NO indication to her that I would do something like this!!!

The reason I isolate myself is to protect myself from our father's constant abuse. I don't come out because I don't feel safe or comfortable around him. And, sis also made the classic argument of I'm not eating right. Doesn't matter what I eat, to somebody, it isn't right. Ever. I could eat just vegetables forever, and someone is going to tell me to eat meat instead.

My therapist says what I'm doing is totally normal for what I'm going through. That I'm just trying to protect myself mentally and physically however possible.

And. I don't trust sis anymore. Because all she does is come home from work, and immediately get high, then spend the rest of the day and night high. She hasn't been sober for over a year now iirc while home. Hell, she kicked everyone out once when she wanted to have sex with her boyfriend, and guilted us not to tell our parents. She got high and did shit. As always. And to boot, I end up driving her around multiple times a week because she's always high and can't do it herself.

I'm. I'm so done. Don't fucking guilt me that way. And don't deny the truth. Sis, you're coping through stress by using drugs, all day every day, and saying shit that hurts everybody, and I cope by sleeping. Tell me which one causes more damage!!

[gravehags]

nosy anon: 15, 19, 30, 36, 43

15. Favorite movie

Vertigo directed by Alfred Hitchcock. The whole movie is a love letter to San Francisco/Northern California and it’s been my favorite movie ever since I was like 15. I was able to see it in an old theater on the big screen maybe a decade ago and that was really cool for me!

19. A fact about your personality

Hmm. I’m a pretty quiet person irl unlike when I’m on here and literally can’t shut up. I only really open up my full personality to people I really trust and love but also if you start talking about something I have a lot of passion for you will never heard the end of it from me.

30. What I hate most about work/school

For the job I worked for 7 years before I quit to go back to school? The tediousness. I did not give a shit about what I was doing, it wasn’t important to me, I had no motivation and it was so detrimental to my mental health I ended up up an intensive outpatient program 3 times over those 7 years and was almost hospitalized. For school? The constant expecting to always be on or have endless amounts of energy to put towards academics, personal life and struggles be damned. Also the fucking student loans.

36. Where I would like to live

I love it where I currently live but this country is a fucking hellscape. Idk I’d like to do some traveling around Scotland and Finland. Whether I could live in either place is hard to say because I’ve never been but who knows where this master’s degree will take me next.

43. Sexiest person that comes to mind immediately

Cumulus. Cardinal Copia. Father Paul from Midnight Mass.

[bugbutton]

so, i was going to start intensive outpatient tomorrow, but on friday afternoon they called me and told me they were recommending me for their partial hospitalization program. when i asked why, she said something like that she couldn't tell me or something (I wish I could remember exactly, but I was already panicking and dissociated by this time). i asked her if i say no to partial hospitalization, will they reject me for IOP, and she said "well, again, it's not accept or reject, but finding the best fit for you" which like, yeah those are pretty words and i get it but also it is still a rejection and you don't get to tell me it's not. anyway, her answer was something like "they'll call you about it hopefully by this evening" and so i waited.

at about 8:30pm, i decided to call them because i hadn't heard back. the person i spoke to was a different person, and hadn't been expecting me, and when I told her that I had been told that I would hear back, she told me that she didn't have any notes or memos about it (so I guess they just had not intended to call me back like they said they would). I asked her what the deal was, and she repeated what I had already been told— that I was being recommended for PHP over IOP. I expressed that I was frustrated and confused, because I wanted to at least know *why,* and she was like "they didn't tell you?" and I was like "no, she said she couldn't" and she was quiet for a moment and was like "that's not right" (I feel bad for her in hindsight, because it sucks when you have to clean up a mess your coworker made)

she told me the reasons why and they included some bullshit like "intermittent anger" and some other stuff which I regretted having shared with the clinician who did my intake, even though I know I shouldn't lie or cover anything up so that I can get the best treatment, I felt like I had given the "wrong" answers and that if only I had masked more, I would have been accepted.

then regarding my frustration with the sudden change, I said, "they offered to let me start today. what if I had shown up today? were they just going to be like, surprise you're in PHP? that's not okay!" and to my surprise and relief, she agreed with me. she explained to me more about the partial hospitalization program and I expressed some concerns I have with it, mainly that they provide food, but I'm worried that it won't be stuff I can eat. I think I told her to have them call me, and hopefully tomorrow they will, or I'll call them. I want to give this place a chance but if they don't impress me or I don't feel like they apologize/make it up to me sufficiently, I'm gonna find somewhere else.

it sucked though because I had been feeling hopeful about this place and it felt like my hope was stolen from right in my hands, y'know? but whatever. I'm managing. I'm still feeling more at ease just knowing that IOP or PHP is gonna be my next step. but this shit just sucks I wish shit would stop happening to me

[jerseyoklahomo]

Well, today was a great day, if I say so myself.

Started the day early with NO SLEEP! Literally laid in bed all night awake. So, at 7:00am after staying calm as my roommate kept receiving calls from his, what I can only believe to be, mail-order wife in the Philippines. She literally called every 30 minutes and his ringer was going off constantly as he lied to her about what he was doing for NO REASON!

Anyway....back to the story. I started the day with a nice little breakfast of eggs, cheese, sour cream, and spinach. MMM! I set off for the day to my new IOP (Intensive Outpatient) program. I decided to walk the nearly 2 mile trek to Bayonne, NJ. It was a nice morning, so I enjoyed the walk other than the shin splints nearly crippling me. I will walk this when needed, but there is a bus that goes nearby for me to utilize when needed.

I spent my time there doing a PSYCH EVAL! I must say it was one of the lesser invasive I have ever endured. I practiced for a while, and I passed the test. The urine test. Hehe! I start on Monday with my IOP program.

After that I set off to go job hunting and attend the lunch AA in my area. It was a good one. They even had snacks! For my budget, this is going to be a very great lunch option while also going to my daily meeting. I rode the light rail into downtown Jersey City.

To my delight, I received a nice email while I was on the light rail. An Area Director of Sales for a hotel management company reached out to me about an Area Sales Manager position that I applied for! She set up a phone interview at 3:00pm! I apparently did very well, but I didn't think I did. I was not prepared to interview so quickly. Plus, I usually am at least a bit buzzed when I interview. So, to gloat on myself sober is apparently a trigger. Hmmm...good to know!

Anyway, I have a second interview tomorrow via Google Video. Good vibes...

I spent most of my afternoon at the Hyatt Regency Jersey City. I sat in the perfect spot for some inspiration and motivations, but not so much that it was distracting. I feel at home in hotels, so I can usually concentrate much better. I was able to complete many more applications and assessments for jobs that I have applied to in the past couple of days. After that, I got the inkling to go into Manhattan for another AA. I met some awesome contacts, and possibly a sponsor or at least someone to point me in the right direction.

I spent my ride back enjoying the sights and sound of the city. I feel more at home than I have in my own skin in so many years, and I have no clue what is next. It's almost unsettling that it's not unsettling to me. Whatever will be will be.

I realized that there is a mall located within walking distance to my house. WOW! WTF?! I can usually sniff a mall out with my eyes closed and no map, but it looks like my senses are a changin'! Either way, that's my next stop tomorrow to look for WORK!

Check out my next post with a beautiful picture I took today.

[healing-with-bunnie]

Another horrible, yet wonderful year

It's December again, and I find myself reflecting on where I was at in January. it has been another incredibly complicated year with ups and downs just like the rest.

Exactly a year ago at the beginning of last December, I got out of the hospital again, It's seemingly routine for me for most holiday seasons to need a trip to the mental hospital. A few days after getting out of the hospital it was clear that moving in with my best friend and her partner was the best option for me. Living alone had been incredibly detrimental to my mental health.

Living with my best friend and being in a loving home environment for the first time in my life was quite literally life-changing to me. And I quit my job in fast food management as that was incredibly demanding in ways that were just simply too draining for me. in between that job and my next, I attended an IOP program (intensive outpatient program) essentially equating to 24 hours a week of therapy. which was very hard but in my time there I had made a new friend, and stabilized myself quite a bit. graduating IOP is one of my biggest accomplishments this year.

This year really challenged family dynamics, as due to quite a few different things I was forced to see both of my parents in a horrible new light, which has been incredibly depressing and freeing at the same time. As all i really ever wanted was to feel loved by a family.

While my own family was quite the sore subject, I got closer with my best friend, and her mother who have both been there for me for so long now, it's really been a transition from blood family to found family this year.

then by the beginning of spring, all hell broke loose, as if the ice and snow melting seemingly released some kind of pandora's box on me. Most of spring and summer was kind of a blur at this point.

As I had what I consider to be, the absolute worst month of my life, April 7th my great aunt died, a woman who had been a safe place for me for as long as I can remember. The only family member by whom I felt loved unconditionally, her home had been my safe place. somewhere nothing bad could ever happen. When life was too overwhelming I would escape to her house. Where she would let me eat whatever I wanted, and we would watch whatever I wanted and just talk. I was closer to her than I ever was to either of my parents. Losing her was equal parts devastating and also a relief.

She had been sick most of her life, and the last 3 years of her life were horrible. As awful as it sounds I wished she had died sooner, she was single-handedly the greatest woman I had ever met. She had been a nurse for most of her life, with a very strong attitude and sense of humor. Her birthday was November 11th, and after 2000 she would always use her birthday to remember those who had died in the tragedy. She was truly a selfless woman, being the safe haven for the children in my family who had less-than-stellar parents.

Her funeral was about a week or two later, the second funeral I had ever attended. It was so beautiful and perfect and she would have loved every single detail of it. We spent just as much time laughing as we did crying as she would have wanted. I got the honor of being the last person to speak at her funeral, with a letter I had written to her the day after she died. and I also got plenty of time alone with her urn as people were downstairs.

I got dumped by my boyfriend of 7 or 8 months a day or two later, and it's pretty safe to say I felt as though my life was a complete wreck. And I had just started my new job, and was constantly emotional, crying at the drop of a hat over everything. an overnight shift I had to cover at a hotel for about a month.

A little over a week into that job, my son almost died, and I felt as though I could never catch a break. but I continually used my overnight shift with all of that time alone to myself to journal, and just sit with myself and all the stuff I had just faced.

I'm no stranger to adversity or hardship though, and I just kept trucking through. It seems that the turning point of this year would be my 20th birthday, my son's father and I always made a point to see each other once a year. And I would text him pretty regularly, especially when my relationships would begin to fail and I would find myself single.

Admittedly, I am oblivious, and although my love for him never truly went away even though it had been 4 years since we had ended our relationship I never picked up on the fact that the feeling was entirely mutual.

So when a nasty storm had ruined my plans for my birthday, he drove two hours in torrential downpours to pick me up. two hours back to his mother's in which I would not stop talking the whole time. I wont go into detail of what happened when we got to his home, but I will say this when he kissed me every feeling I thought I had been able to get over finally came flooding back to me.

That kiss felt like it was the most right kiss in my entire life, like every other time anyone else had ever kissed me it always felt wrong and uncomfortable. and at one point he looked into my eyes and said that they were still so beautiful. I was still fighting my real feelings so I punched him in the chest and called him bro.

That afternoon changed the course of my life, as I was only supposed to be living with my best friend until October. though it was only I was struggling to find a place for myself one that I could bring my son to. (I would like to note that I am leaving out some other important details of what happened this year as that is a story for another day)

The next day my son's father started his apprenticeship, as he was finally home from all of his navy training. we would continue to see each other in secret, and talk non-stop. I finally broke down and explained some things to him about my life that I had been keeping secret from everyone. and He promised he would help me.

we officially started dating almost two weeks later at the beginning of August, and by the end of the month he had found an apartment for us then by October he and I began to set in motion something to fix those background details. Which again is a story for another day when I am actually able to tell it.

But as it stands now, here in December, looking back on the crazy rollercoaster that was my 2023, I am thankful, I started this year feeling completely defeated and alone but through the love and patience of my best friend and her partner, I was able to pull myself out of that dark spot enough to finally begin working on myself and growing. I was able to heal and grow enough to impress my son's father, show him how much I had truly changed since we broke up in 2019, and rekindle our relationship. Currently, our relationship is better than it has ever been.

And I am more hopeful than ever, that finally after 20 years I will be able to get free of the blood that has poisoned me for all of my life and build bonds that will free me.

While I know life won't be easy, finally for the first time in my life I know I will never face anything as hard as I have in the past. I will face more unexpected challenges, but now I have the strength to pull myself up and support that will catch me if I fall.

[srhhrtmn21222]

Step 1 - Hitting Bottom: Despair and Isolation

What crisis brought me to recovery?

Originally, being arrested and put on felony probation. But over time, I was still using, just without getting caught. Probation required me to take an Intensive Outpatient Program (IOP for short). During this IOP class, we discussed every aspect of addiction. Where it started, healthy alternatives, reasons for starting to use, etc. During my IOP, I had ceased to use. That was until they said I had to go to inpatient treatment for missing too many classes. I relapsed. I ended up leaving inpatient treatment early (due to mental breakdowns, multiple times, daily). Two days after leaving, I found out I was pregnant with my first child. That was the day I realized using was not (and never will be) worth going back to.

2. What situation led me to formally work Step One?

Finally getting a sponsor. I had looked into working the steps prior to finding a sponsor, but it's impossible to do without someone there to help guide you through some of the more complicated questions you have to face.

3. When did I first recognize my addiction as a problem? Did I try to correct it? If so, how? If not, why not?

I recognized it as a problem the very first time I bought an 8-ball. I realized how much money I was wasting on something that was only worsening my quality of life. There has been many times in the past that I tried to get clean on my own, unsuccessfully. I thought abstinence was all I needed to recover. In the long run, I found out that if I don't face the reasons behind the addiction, it will never be resolved.

[wallabywannabe]

The only thing hugely different this week was my annual GYN visit. Which doesn't sound like much, but this year I was due for my pap smear, which I have been dreading for the past 3 years since my last one.

They're really painful for me. Don't know why. There's no medical reason for it. No history of trauma. It's not the MOST painful thing I've ever experienced, but somehow it's the scariest. Kidney stones are the most painful, but I recognize that feeling and it's a blinding kind of pain that leaves no room for other emotions. Pain from a speculum, though, feels very wrong, and there's plenty of mental capacity for panic.

I'm so ashamed of that, too, which is another big emotion that comes with it. I'm very pro modern, researched-backed medicine, which is why I think preventative procedures like pap smears are so very important. My dad's a freaking gynecologist, for crying out loud. I should be more comfortable with this stuff than anyone! But I'm not and I feel like a huge hypocrite.

So all that's going through my mind, and then this summer, I did an outpatient hospitalization program for mental health where I got a lot of practice FEELING my anxiety instead of ignoring it, which is something I hadn't realized I was doing. Previously I'd actually gotten very good at pushing anxiety very deep, which was useful for pushing through the day, but I think doing that EVERY day is exhausting to the point where I'd just completely collapse every few months. Anyway, I'm digressing a bit.

So it's been a few months since that program, and I have fallen back into old habits a bit, but I think the pap smear anxiety was too intense to ignore like normal. I do manage to mostly ignore it until I'm in the exam room and I'm...waiting.

I'm waiting and waiting, and I start to feel it all bubbling up in my chest. I distract myself by reading all the flyers in the room. I try to memorize the anatomy posters on the walls. I do deep breathing. I do wall squats and jumping jacks. I pace. I sit down. I examine the patterns on my gown. I look up french poetry and recite it out loud. And in between trying all of these strategies, I feel the anxiety rising up again and I fight back the urge to burst into tears.

Finally the exam happens, I tell the doctor I'm nervous, and she's really great. She tries to distract me with small talk, but when the pain starts I'm having a full blown anxiety attack and instead she has me count outloud to 30. She's done by the time I reach 15. She explains to me exactly how my cervix is shaped and what she was doing at each point when I started to feel pain, which helps demystify some of it.

I'm a bit embarrassed but mostly kind of frustrated with myself. This is the biggest physical reaction I've had to a pelvic exam before. Shouldn't I have gotten better over time, not worse?

But with a few day's distance, I'm starting to think it really was me being more in touch with myself emotionally than I have been in the past. The tears and hyperventilating are awkward side effects for me and it would be more convenient if I could have emotional breakthroughs that were slightly less obvious, but that's clearly not how I am.

I was wondering if I'd regressed emotionally, but after that happened, and then a few days later I feel like THIS? Normal, doing normal every day things without it being difficult? That must be progress. Even if it only lasts for 1 day, it's still progress. And it means changes for the better are possible.

[transkingoryx]

I’m 16, and I was diagnosed with AMPS in August 2022, though previously my doctors blamed my chronic pain on spondylolisthesis (since November 2021), and I’ve known I had a chronic pain condition since 2020 (my whole childhood I assumed I was just unathletic/lazy/bad at coping with pain that I thought everyone else dealt with).

I was put in outpatient physical therapy right after my spondylolisthesis diagnosis, which did not help at all. I went through two different physical therapists, one of whom was an incredibly extremely ableist asshole, and the latter of whom was only mildly ableist and somewhat listened to me. This continued until mid-2022, when I was discharged with a “Yay! You should be all better now.” Nothing had changed, except that I was “moving better” according to the therapist, and my kneecaps were no longer movable like video game controller joysticks. These things did not have any impact on the frequency or intensity of my pain, nor on my ability to “push through” or ignore pain.

In August 2022, I was diagnosed with dysautonomia and AMPS. I was told by one of the doctors at the integrated care clinic that they would have diagnosed me with fibromyalgia had I been an adult. I entered my second round of physical therapy, which was an unsuccessful as the first- except this time, my slightly ableist physical therapist changed locations and I got two new, nicer therapists instead. These two did not have an obsession with removing my cane from the picture. I was discharged from this with no improvement once again.

Then, they put me in a combination athletic training/physical therapy program, where I did not have results in terms of frequency of pain, but I did learn strategies to minimize pain while exercising (improving my running form, for example). I fence, so I already had great lower body strength, and this new physical therapist recognized this. She helped me find low impact cardio activities that worked for me, and helped me deal with my exercise induced asthma. I got to improve my upper body strength a lot, which was great, and she also helped me figure out how to calm down certain parts of my body freaking out (for example, when I had a certain kind of knee pain, I was to massage the tendon right under my kneecap, which usually fixed the problem). I did not have a decrease in frequency or intensity of pain, but I did learn how to better avoid it while still going about my day-to-day activities. I’m very grateful to this physical therapist :)

this is a pretty specific experience and therefore a bit of a long shot but I’m really curious so I’m going to put this out there: is there anyone out there who a) received treatment via pediatric outpatient or inpatient intensive exercise programs for CRPS/RND/RSD/AMPS (or similar conditions) and b) would be willing to share your experiences? it can be through a private ask or a reblog; I honestly just want to hear from people who have gone through those types of programs, how you’re doing now, and whether you feel the program was helpful or harmful in the long run. preferably US-based because that’s what I’m familiar with but I’m open to hearing from anyone.

[prozach27]

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