#so. for me (who does not have DIAGNOSED anxiety - i've been told it's just a symptom of my adhd and theres very little social anxiety-

[glados-kisser]

doing training courses for various therapeutic modalities is beautiful because now i know the secrets of social interactions.

[nikibogwater]

Everybody sit down and strap in, 'cause I have a doozy of a tale to share.

I've had anxiety for literally as long as I can remember. I've had periods of my life where it was so intense it became legitimately life-threatening (don't worry I promise this is going somewhere funny). And this was really bizarre because I have zero childhood trauma. Like, my family life is so idyllic it's almost comical. Therapists would do abuse screenings on me and look utterly baffled when I told them everything was fine at home. They'd interrogate my parents just to make sure I wasn't lying. I have one friend who I'm fairly sure believed I was just severely gaslighting myself when I said my family was great, school wasn't too stressful, and I've never lived in a dangerous neighborhood or experienced poverty.

Anyways, despite no one being able to figure out where my disorder was coming from, my doctors were able to help me manage the symptoms so that I would like, not die, and actually be able to finish high school. Which was awesome. Now fast forward to late 2021. My big sister (who has also had intense anxiety her whole life which no one could figure out why) is finishing up her doctorate and getting her physical therapist's license. Somehow, during all her studying and schooling, she finds out about this thing called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, which explains literally everything that was going on with us. EDS is a connective tissue disorder that kinda fudges up your body in a whole bunch of little ways, including dysautonomia (episodes of very fast heart-rate that kick your body into fight-or-flight mode), and hypermobility (unusual flexibility). It's a spectrum disorder, so the severity of symptoms vary from person to person, but we definitely checked almost every box on the diagnostic list. My sister went to see a specialist, and yep, she was diagnosed EDS positive. She immediately calls my mom and goes "I know what's wrong with Niki" (thanks, sis, that's real encouraging lol). Initially we're like "okay Katie, that's nice" because honestly this kind of sounds like jumping at shadows, but I go in to see the specialist anyways just to make sure.

One consultation and diagnosis later, and suddenly my entire life makes perfect sense.

Now we get to the funny part. See, the diagnosis stuff happened in early 2022. So by the time late 2023 comes around and we're looking for a new dog (I promise this is relevant), we've been riding that chronic illness diagnosis for a while. Once again, my sister, ever the proactive one, decides she's going to help us get a new dog. She scours the adoption website, sends us photos of the cutest dogs available, and helps us make a decision. This is how we got Beverly, who has been an unstoppable force of chaos in our lives ever since we signed the papers (but she's also really cute so she can get away with it). Now on top of being a very excitable and anxious pupper, Beverly's got a weird little gimp in her hindquarters, which makes her sit all splayed-out and funny-looking, and while it doesn't seem to be causing her pain, we take her to a vet to get it checked out. Vet finds absolutely nothing. X-rays are taken and examined. Still nothing. At this point, they go "well, we could try a CT scan of her brain, which would run about $5,000, and maybe we could find something--" but my parents are already packing this dog into the car like "well that is a HARD nope." So we decide, look, Beverly seems happy and healthy, and those gimpy legs don't seem to bother her, so we'll just leave it be until it becomes clearer what's wrong with her because we do NOT have a cool $5,000 to throw around here.

Readers more astute than my family and I will likely have already figured out where this is going.

This morning, my mom is looking at Beverly sitting in her funny sprawled-out way, and something in her brain goes "wait...weird physical symptoms with no tracible cause that vets can see..." She does a bit of googling. Can dogs have EDS/Hypermobility? Yes. Yes they can. And the listed symptoms describe Beverly to a T.

So not only is my sister the one to finally figure out what's wrong with me, she also unknowingly got us a dog who has the exact same chronic condition as us. Meanwhile my poor dad, who is the only Normal Person in our house, is coming to terms with the fact that he is apparently just fated to always love chronically ill people and animals, and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it.

[netbug009]

okay lemme shut up about shipping and theories and whatnot and just talk about how mental health was handled in this episode in general for a bit because it's taken me this long to process it into words

Spoilers for TADC 4, discussions of mental health issues including masking, emotional personality disorders, and suicide ideation

So like... Personal info: I have autism, depression, and anxiety on paper with PTSD penciled in and still being sorted out. I used to be diagnosed with bipolar disorder, but at this point I'm not - we're not sure if the mood swings are just all of the above forming a weird gloopy mess or possibly something else? I'm finally getting through the waitlist for a proper behavioral health specialist in January after waiting for AGES so I'll hopefully have more answers soon, but that's who I am and where I'm at for anybody curious.

Point is, I felt REALLY deeply seen by this episode. I've been that person "masking" at work and in other social situations. I've been that person told I'm annoying when I'm happy. I have a deep understanding of bipolar disorder whether I have it or not because I learned about it for years. I knew this one was going to hit me personally from what we knew before it dropped but holy SHIT. There's a few nuances in particular here that really got to me and I don't usually see handled this way in fiction, probably because they're a bit more depressing and less universal than handling it in a way that feels more decisive, and executives at big studios aren't crazy about either of those things.

The big one for me was how Pomni handled the situation.

Pomni is a kind person. As she's previously stated, she doesn't want anybody to feel like they're nothing, so she's willing to help, but... she's also tired. She's got her own things going on. Before letting Gangle be the third person in as many episodes to lean on her, she checks in to see if Gangle has someone closer she can talk to.

Pomni isn't a perfect, Godlike hero - she has her limits, and she puts up a soft boundary for herself of asking Gangle if someone else can take the load. She's clearly ready to listen if that's not possible, but she does the fair thing to try and put her own oxygen mask on first.

That nuance really got me and sort of ties into the overarching way this episode handled the whole ordeal: Nobody is at fault for how this episode went, or how the adventure ultimately ended, and nobody blames themselves for it.

Pomni isn't treated like her efforts to help "weren't enough" but also doesn't get shouldered with the credit for "saving" Gangle - that's not how mental illness works. While being kind to others can have a major positive impact, it's not fair for people left behind when someone passes due to suicide or suicidally reckless behavior like manic episodes often include to blame themselves for "not doing enough."

Likewise, Zooble doesn't blame themselves for Gangle's misery, simple acknowledging that their idea didn't work and that they'd help their friend keep trying.

Even CAINE isn't really an antagonist in this one. In fact, he's the LEAST antagonistic he's ever been, choosing an adventure from the group's suggestions and actively trying to support their ideas. He literally did nothing wrong in this one beyond maybe being a bit insensitive in places.

There's just something really... refreshing and unexpected about that to me. I'm not saying it's bad for shows to actively address these issues by talking through them less subtly, but there's something about how casually this episode handles it. Nobody is the bad guy. Nobody actively makes a choice to harm Gangle, except maybe Jax with a rude comment because he's Jax - not even Gangle herself.

Mental illness just be like that sometimes.

[igotthebees]

The five scariest words I could say according to my peers: "I'm going off my antipsychotics" aka a Disability Pride Rant about conditional autonomy

It's disability pride month and so I want to take some time to talk about concepts that I see rampant in both abled/neurotypical/whatever you want to call it spaces and in disability spaces as well, which I have jokingly summarized before as "Good Mentally ill/Disabled People Can Have Autonomy, and the Bad Ones Cannot".

More (a lot more) under the cut

I can guess what you're thinking by now. "There are no bad disabled people Nix!!!" I entirely agree. But in mental health and neurodivergent spaces especially I find that there is a lot of internalized and externalized hatred towards people with stereotypically "severe" symptoms, and in so many cases I've found myself caught in a West Side Story-esque battle between the Depressed and Anxious vs the Manic and Psychotic (which is frustrating because we should be friends or lovers! why is my PTSD and trauma history dismissed when I admit that it causes psychosis as well, why are my friends treated better as a whole when they go in for help for depressive episodes than for manic episodes?)

Sidebar, someone is inevitably going to stop reading at this point and scream at me how they've been treated horribly for their very severe depression and I am not only discounting their experience, I am making up an oppression scale, or using stereotypes, or even fabricating that because I am psychotic and dissociative I am better than them or have suffered more. That's really not the intention? I am simply looking at things from the perspective of my own extensive psychiatric hospitalization history, and from perspectives friends have told me. You can absolutely have depression and/or anxiety and suffer more severely than someone with psychosis - but the way the system treats the two of you is going to be severely different. No one escapes the psychiatric system unscathed, but I've been hospitalized three times, one time labeled as traumatized and depressive, another as having BPD, and yet another as an official schizophrenic and they were three very different forms of hell despite minimal symptom changes.

As one girl in a partial hospitalization program said to my face without a hint of understanding of how fucked up it was: "There are two kinds of psych hospitals. There's the ones for us who just want to get better - and there's the place they put the schizophrenics".

Where does autonomy come into this essay that is getting very long very quickly? I've been experiencing episodes of psychosis since I was 17 years old, diagnosed with schizophrenia at the age of 21, and finally undiagnosed with schizophrenia and rediagnosed with autism and severe PTSD with episodes of psychosis at the age of 24. I have been on 8 different types of antipsychotics in 3 years. Three days ago I stopped taking my antipsychotics entirely after nearly 6 months of slowly tapering off them and under heavy observation.

And it's scaring the shit out of people.

I am not a walking time bomb, compared to what people think. The last time I had any sort of delusion or hallucination was nearly a year and a half ago, (and it was while still on heavy-duty sedatives! Medicine isn't always a magic fix, even when it does make things better). But even if I was actively hallucinating this very second, shouldn't what medicine I take be my own choice, especially since I have been cleared multiple times as not a danger to myself or others and am being closely medically followed in case that changes? (not that I personally believe that drugging someone is appropriate even when they are reactive but let's start with mad liberation 101) How come it was so easy to talk to my doctors about going off some of my anxiety medication and lowering my antidepressants but the minute I said I didn't want to be on antipsychotics the word "insight" was thrown out?

Just a warning: the concept of "insight" sucks. Yeah, okay, a large portion of people treated in hospitals for delusions or mania aren't aware of how severe or disruptive their own symptoms are. I've even experienced that before during an episode - I was having pretty significant speech symptoms and didn't realize until someone sat me down that I was acting any different than typical. (someone's going to inevitably bring up double-bookkeeping and my response is that's genuinely a real thing and helpful to talk about but it's not everyone's experience and I really wish that in normalizing it the experiences of people with severe reality distortion weren't erased or said to be an exaggeration).

Anyways - insight as a concept has been abused to hell and back to take away people's autonomy and further situations of severe abuse. When I came forward about my childhood abuse I was gaslit and coerced into telling a doctor that my previous accounts were a delusion and false memories (which aren't even an evidence-backed phenomenon but I digress) and was promptly diagnosed with the aforementioned schizophrenia.

Even other people diagnosed with psychosis have come to me and expressed horror that I am getting off my medication. I can't have a single bad or frantic day without having to do a checklist of if I'm returning to an episode, either because another person suggests it or because it's been engrained so heavily in my head that I'm a ticking time bomb and I know I will lose all my rights again in an instant if I exhibit certain symptoms publically.

Where is this going? Who knows lol, I guess my point is that this July think about how you treat autonomy even in the "crazy of the crazy" or the "ugly disabilities". Think about what you would fight and scream and cry about if it ever happened to you or your friends due to a diagnosis, and then ask yourself if you're just as mad when it happens to the psychotic and schizospec and bipolar communities; when it happens to people with intellectual disability or cognitive disability; people with complex diagnoses and physical disability too; the visibly disabled and facial difference/limb difference community; people with sensory disabilities - even people with your same disorder but higher support needs. Let's not pit ourselves against each other - I'm not magically a better or more deserving person for being crazy and medically complicated, sure, yeah, got it... but I'm also definitely not less deserving of respect because I've got diagnoses that make a lot of people (including other marginalized people) uncomfortable.

And I have to, of course, discuss for a second before I finally shut up and stare at a wall how every single thing I said is colored by my experience as a white psychotic and that being a person of color (particularly black) makes the things I've talked about significantly worse - schizophrenia actually is treated the way it is in society because it was used as a diagnosis in the 1960s in America to call leaders of the Civil Rights movement delusional and dangerous (in the 1920s and 30s when it was really popularized as its own disorder outside of the schizophrenia and/or autism diagnosis of dementia praecox, schizophrenia evolved into a disorder given to white women who said inappropriate things or couldn't take care of the house correctly or wouldn't marry, thought of as silly and delusional but harmless and needing help... which is also fucked up and politically motivated and fuck that, but the disorder was actually changed significantly when it was primarily used to target black men to include sections about violence and dangerousness that weren't included when it targeted white women. The cultural view of schizophrenia as a violent disorder that persists even today is due to racism).

(Required reading for every single person alive who can handle psychological and or/racial theory but especially those going into the medical field is "The Protest Psychosis: How Schizophrenia Became a Black Disorder" by Jonathan Metzel, probably the greatest and most eye-opening book I have ever read, ironically enough I don't have it anymore because I gave it to another person to read in residential and he then stole it and got kicked out of the program)

[carrottheluvmachine]

Help me move to Scotland to be with the one I love

Hello, my name is Colie and I'm trying to raise the money needed to be able to apply for a partner visa to go and live with my girlfriend in Scotland.

3 years ago, my life was in a hellish place. My step-dad, the greatest person I have ever known, was diagnosed with cancer and put on hospice care. He took me in when I had to leave my old life behind me; when I lost my home in New York and had no where else to turn to. He accepted my 3 elderly cats and cared for them like they were his own. Although he came into my life late, he acted as a father and a friend to me.

In August of 2021, right as my step-dad was diagnosed, I met the love of my life. I wasn't looking for love. I was searching for a writing partner and she came along. 2 weeks later, I told her I thought I might be in love with her, and to my surprise she said she felt the same way.

Steph was there for me as my step-dad grew weaker and weaker. She was the first person I told the morning when he passed away. I helped my mother care for him in his last days. I listened obsessively at the wall between our bedrooms for his last breaths. To this day, I still refuse to go into the spare bedroom where he passed away. I am traumatized, I am broken, but to Steph I am so much more. She was there for me to lean on whenever I needed her. She cheered me up with her silly puns. She made me smile and she reassured me that I was worth loving.

My life has never been easy, but the easiest thing in it has always been Steph. I knew right away that I loved her. I admired her from the first moment I met her. She stuck by my side despite my disabilities, despite my losses, despite my will to end it all.

I have severe anxiety, depression, and bipolar disorder. Because of this, it has never been easy for me to keep down a job. Because I have never been able to hold down a job, I have been living off the good graces of others and cannot afford therapy. Only recently did I find a way to receive remote therapy and I'm working to improve myself.

I have lived a sheltered life since moving down here to Florida. I lost everything I ever knew in New York. I have seen family members only a handful of times in the past 11 years, and I haven't visited any of my friends since. I have lost touch with the people I called my friends back home, and I haven't been able to make new friends down here.

It's a different world here, and I am very fearful as a gay person in a red state. I do not tell anyone that I'm gay because I fear for my life here. Especially after the 2024 election results.

I have become a recluse who has nothing but her online friends, her mother, and her cats. The one shining light in all of my life has been Steph. We were able to meet in the summer of 2023 and I flew to Scotland to be with her. For the first time in my life, I was living and doing what I wanted to do. I was happy. I smiled every single day. I was traveling outside and seeing things I've never seen before, all with the person I loved most in the world. At the end of my trip, Steph turned to me and said "So, what do you think about living here?" and I swear to you, I've never smiled brighter.

The reason I have started this campaign is because of the financial requirements to obtain a visa to move to the UK. The financial requirement is £29k, which is roughly $37k USD. Steph just graduated from university with a degree in screenwriting, but she has yet to find a job in her field. For the time being, she's working in childcare, which she also has a degree in, but it does not make the kind of money needed to sponsor me for a visa.

Our choices were either to make the 29k annually, or to have 31k in savings (equating roughly to 39k USD) so that I could apply for a visa stay support both of us for 2 years before I would have to apply again. Unfortunately, the income earned cannot be combined with any savings to meet the financial requirement. The requirement also does not allow me to contribute with a US income, as the person who is responsible for sponsoring me has to be the one earning the money because I won't be able to work in the UK until I have a spouse visa.

It is incredibly difficult not seeing the one you love day in and day out. My life has never been easy, as I said before, but I feel as if it has been put on pause ever since I was forced out of my home to come and live in Florida. I haven't been living, I have been surviving.

I want to live again, and I want to live with the girl I love.

Please, if you can, donate. Even if it's just a dollar, anything helps. Please help my dreams come true.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

~Colie

Link to gofundme

If you could reblog this post, I would greatly appreciate it!

[nerdygaymormon]

Final Session, Nov 2024

In May 2023 I was diagnosed with an eating disorder and began therapy. I binge and I chew & spit, or rather I did. Over the past 20 months I've managed to overcome this disordered eating. It's been quite a journey and I've learned a lot about the how's and why's and my long history with disordered eating.

I go to a facility associated with a university and I see students who are overseen by a licensed psychologist. It means every semester I see a different therapist (it also means I pay bargain rates). It's been interesting to see so many therapists and their different approaches and how their personality and viewpoint makes a big difference in the way the sessions go.

At my previous session, we spoke about the hurricane, the stress of it and losing power for days and how my eating behavior changed. I turned to comfort foods and I couldn't cook so lots of canned and instant foods. However, within a week I was back onto more healthy eating and back to cooking several meals in one go and storing them in the fridge.

At the end of that session, the therapist asked if it would be alright if he read my blog post from 2017 which went viral and outed me to everyone. I've referenced it several times, it is clear it was an important moment for me and had a big impact on my life. Tbh, his request surprised me and felt invasive. I know that reading the blog post would then give him access to read the rest of my blog. Of course I talk about a lot of private things with him that I don't share on my blog but in my sessions with him I hadn't really discussed my current relationship with church and faith. I gave him the links to the blog post because he had a good reason for wanting to read it and I've learned my anxiety often senses danger where there isn't any.

I arrived for my current session and the therapist came to the lobby to bring me back, and he was dressed in a way that accentuated his body (he must be a weightlifter). I was walking behind him noticing his bubble butt and I thought to myself, "I don't know if I can meet with a therapist I find attractive." 😅

When we got to the room, he told me he read my blog post, it seems like it was a beautiful experience. Then he asked me what is my current relationship with this church and faith? I shared that there's a difference in my belief and actions. My beliefs have changed so much over the past few years, even as I continue going to church. He asked if I still hold the position I did in the blog post (stake executive secretary). I indeed do have that position. I shared that the calling often gives me a chance to be at church without actually attending the worship service, or even when i do go to the worship service I don't go to Sunday School, instead I go do an office to do this position.

He asked why I still go because it sounds like I'd rather not be there. I know that it seems contradictory, but it's not a simple choice of go or not, it affects other things. When the blog post went viral in 2017 and basically outed me to everyone, I had siblings say that access to see their children was dependent on me remaining in church. My mom is homophobic and me going to church helps keep the peace. To stop going to church comes with some big consequences. He looked stunned and asked if they really gave ultimatums like that. Yes they did, so if that's their position, does that mean I wouldn't be welcome at family gatherings, will it be me or them & their kids?

Plus, I live in the same house as my parents. Were I to not go to church, that would likely cause tension. I've looked at moving out but apartment rents are wildly high and would take a lot of my income. Just explaining that there's a lot of layers to consider to this decision. Also, it's not like any organization is all good or all bad, there are some positive things about church and this community, I have many friends there.

I know I am not supposed to live my life for them, it is MY life, yet I love and want to be part of my family. It feels like I have been set on a branch of the family tree and told it's up to me whether I want to use the saw to cut myself off from them. Because of that, most of them don't know much of anything that goes on in my life because I don't share with them, I don't think they'd welcome hearing about it since it's related to me being gay. I have another side of my life with gay and queer friends. I am involved in organizations for queer people. I have two sides to my life that often don't feel like they fit together.

Then on top of that, this election scares me. Project 2025 has very anti-queer goals and many of those people will be in government trying to move those goals forward. When I woke up Wednesday morning to see the winner of the election, I took some deep breaths, I didn't turn on the news or listen to any podcasts, I ate a healthy breakfast and went to work. I don't have the emotional bandwidth right now to do more than take care of myself.

I thought to myself that I have lived through worse. No matter how much they try to roll back LGBTQ rights, it won't go all the way back to where it used to be. But with that said, it will be a struggle because we've gotten used to the better climate, to being able to be out and open, to having legal protections that others take for granted. So much of queer rights have come from the Supreme Court, and with President Trump likely getting to name several more justices to that court, I foresee them undoing those rights, and the legislature and president won't fight to restore those rights through legislation.

I was 25 years old when the Supreme Court ruled that laws can't target queer people to restrict them and their rights, that laws couldn't exempt queer people from protections that other people get. I was 32 years old when sodomy laws were struck down by the Supreme Court, which means I spent over half my life with gay relationships being illegal. It was less than 10 years ago that the Supreme Court decided I could get married and only 4 years ago when it decided employees couldn't be fired simply for being gay and trans. It's the court which has step-by-step allowed me the opportunity to live life similar to non-queer citizens, and now I fear it can take that away.

I can't change or fix any of that. Whether it's my family, my church, my government, I will have to deal with the fallout from just trying to live a normal life, the kind of life that other people feel so entitled to that they don't ever contemplate what if that was not possible for them.

I think I'm clear-eyed on what my options are and the consequences of them. Sure, I've kicked the can down the road about my family and my church because there's sure to be a lot of negative consequences, but it can't wait forever. Over the past 7 years since my blog post went viral, I've gone to therapy and built a better foundation for myself. I've dealt with social anxiety, low self esteem, internalized homophobia, eating disorders, generalized anxiety, and processing trauma. I've built a community of queer friends. The reason I work at a university is because 20 years ago they offered partner benefits so I knew if they found out I am gay, I would be okay. I have a foundation that let's me now think about making some of the hard choices I must face.

I arrived for this session thinking it would be pretty upbeat and light as it's my last time seeing this therapist. The semester is ending and his rotation here will soon be over. He responded that he's glad I brought this up. He and his supervisor were discussing me and agree that it's time to end my therapy. Unless there's been a change since our last session and I've relapsed, they feel I have the internal tools to move forward without their help. This therapist was here for the Summer and Fall, so I've seen him for 6 months, and he said it's been a pleasure to see me succeeding.

It was my response to the hurricane last month, how I turned to comfort food and seemed to go off track, but then snapped back into a routine of meal prep and healthier eating, that led him to believe I was ready to move forward, that I'd really overcome the eating disorder.

I replied that I don't know if "overcome" is the right word. My experience with other mental health disorders is they're like seeds in the ground that from time to time will try to sprout, and I have to choose not to let them grow. He responded that he likes another metaphor, that we've been installing lights in a house, and now the living areas, bathroom, and bedrooms are brightly lit, yet there's the basement, maybe some rooms in the corner that are still dark, but we don't have to go there, and at some point maybe I'll install lights in those places, too. However I want to think about it, I am ready to go forward. I did the work and should be proud of what I've accomplished.

As I walked out to my car, I was overwhelmed by emotions. I think I should have felt like celebrating, but instead the feelings I've had from this journey all came rushing back. It was a lot, so many feelings jumbled together.

I again felt stunned at being officially diagnosed. I felt disgust that I choose to still be part of an institution that has hurt me so much. I felt thankful for having friends who I could share about this. I felt shame at what I’ve done to my body. I felt compassion for myself when I understood my body & mind did this to help me survive. I felt the discomfort of sitting in body positivity classes being asked to share very personal thoughts and feelings with others. I felt the shock at realizing I engaged in disordered eating every single day. I felt the curiosity and wonder when I learned how I used different foods for different reasons and how disordered eating was a way for my body & mind to deal with a variety of things. I felt sad for teenager me who used to self harm, and when he stopped doing that he then turned to disordered eating to deal with the feelings about the situation he was in. I felt scared as to whether I could really change. I felt satisfaction at knowing I made choices and was moving forward. There was a sense of safety at knowing I had professionals on my team helping me and also feeling loss that they won’t be there in the future.

It was all these feelings & more, and it was overwhelming.

I cried and let myself feel all this, and somehow crying led to a feeling of relief, it wasn't until later that I realized that I didn't even think of engaging in disordered eating in response to those feelings. It made a nice bookend as 22 months ago when I first met with a therapist about this, I left the clinic and drove to grocery store to buy food to eat in my car because of how intense it felt to talk about these things.

[schizoem]

TW: REALITY CHECKING, SCARY BELIEFS

I fear I'm faking being on the schizospec, although my psychiatrist thinks otherwise. I hope this isn't taken in the wrong way, but I don't seem schizophrenic.

As in, I've never been hospitalized for it, how do I know I'm having hallucinations, my delusions?

I feel as though I've been lied to. I was diagnosed with GAD and panic disorder... but I don't think I have those disorders... I feel that my anxiety and my depression are caused by psychosis.

I literally couldn't leave my house because If I did then the Earth would lose gravity and we would just fly up into the sky. Or other times I was too afraid to move because I knew I suddenly turned into a huge spider and If I moved and looked down, I would see my legs.

Since I was thirteen, I started thinking existential thoughts and had these beliefs, "I'm not real" "the world is not real", "what if I died or I'm in a coma?" (Sometimes I can hear the heartbeat monitor). I hear people say my name, and I ask those around me, and they tell me they didn't hear anything. I hear a voice that says, "HEY!" Really loud every now and then. I see bugs out of the corner of my eyes. I feel like I am not in my body but rather in my eyeballs and my brain is in my eyes.

I can't look around corners or outside my windows in fear that the alien creature is watching me. He is always there. He clicks his tongue, and I can HEAR IT! I hear constant ringing in my ears, my head. What if God decided he was done with the Earth and just poof! The existence ended. It's just abrupt.

I can't watch certain movies, videos, or content that talks about existential ideas. What if I'm dreaming all of this? Every morning, I pinch my skin to see if it hurts to know if I'm dreaming still or not. One time, I told my teacher to stop reading a book because I had woken up that day and I felt super off and not real.

The "panic attacks" I get, I become stiff and can't move at all, it feels like I'm slipping between dimensions and reality is shattering and I'm gonna find out that I'm really being controlled like a Sim. Someone is making me do these things. My family is not my family, I've been adopted even though there is proof that I belong to them. I don't know who I am, my name is not me, I am not me. I share bodies with someone else. I feel that I woke up at age 13 and I don't remember anything before then.

Anyone who is on the schizospec, is this familiar? Does what I experience seem to be the beginning phases of schizophrenia or other spectrum? I'm so paranoid about faking and thinking I'm just making it up, but I live daily, so paranoid of my brain and the thoughts I have. I'm not asking for a diagnosis, and I'll speak to my psychiatrist about this, but I feel safe asking the Schizospec community because you are the ones who live with the disorders.

Thank you if you respond. I sincerely appreciate it.

[etherealspacejelly]

hi dad, i'm having some internal conflict. i've always been a really anxious person (which is probably due to undiagnosed anxiety disorders) and i've never really "fit in." i've been treated as weird all my life. i've never understood tone and i get in a lot of trouble with my parents for this (even though i've explained i can't control it), i go nonverbal for brief periods of time occassionally, loud noises and bright lights cause me pain like extreme headaches, i always feel the need to follow self-created routines in order to feel safe, i don't understand social boundaries all too well, i intensely hyperfixate, i'm extremely hyperempathetic, etc. i've never understood why i'm the way i am. then i started learning more about autism and i think i may have it. many of my autistic friends seem to think so.

but my parents don't believe me and don't like me researching mental health stuff. they don't think i'm "autistic enough" because my mom used to work with autistic kids who were almost always nonverbal and on a more extreme end of the spectrum. i mask all the time too, as a defense mechanism since i get in so much trouble for misunderstanding. hell, my parents won't even get me an official anxiety diagnosis (even though i've had symptoms since the moment the signs can appear) because they think "labels don't matter."

and the big problem that comes along with this is, i don't want to self diagnose and seem disrespectful to diagnosed autistic people. i've done a lot of research and gotten a lot of opinions from neurodivergent people in my life, but i still feel fake because i have no access to a diagnosis. so many people have told me to try to get one and my parents completely refuse.

is it okay to self diagnose? will diagnosed people find this disrespectful? i'm not exactly sure how to go about this. it'll most likely be several years at best before i can get medically diagnosed.

tldr; i may be autistic but i have no access to a diagnosis and feel guilty about self diagnosing. any advice?

thank you and sorry if this was too vent-ish, i just wanted to see if you had any thoughts <3 feel free to ignore this ask if it's too overwhelming /gen

baby. honey. sweetpea. let me tell you something

autistic people actually dont care if you self diagnose. in fact, many of us are self diagnosed. diagnoses can be inaccessible for many reasons, and its perfectly understandable if you cant or dont want to get one

i can absolutely relate to you. my mum works with disabled kids too, and insisted that i couldn't be autistic because she "would have known". she considers herself an expert, but somehow missed all the signs in me. i guess because i am also quite high masking.

you definitely sound autistic to me, and if other neurodivergent people who know you agree then you probably are. autistic people can sense each other lol

i remember once when i friend of mine came to me and was like "hey btw im autistic" and i was like "yeah i know. you told me" and they were like. "um. no i couldnt have told you i only got diagnosed a few days ago and this is the first time we've spoken since then" and i was like. oh. i just Sensed it, you know? i just fuckin knew

so yes. you can self diagnose. thats perfectly fine. and if anyone tells you that you cant or that you're somehow "harming the autistic community" you can tell them to fuck off. self diagnosis does not harm the autistic community in any way, but it can really benefit people like you.

i hope someday you can get the accommodations you need and deserve. in the meantime, please give yourself grace. you're trying your best. and im proud of you, ok?

[rival-the-rose]

So, last week, just before my birthday, I developed dysphagia, gastroparesis, and ileus due to a weird viral infection (came with a fever and sinus inflammation but nothing else). In layman's terms, this basically means all of the muscles in my entire GI tract have stopped working - esophagus is not moving food to the stomach, stomach is not opening to allow food nor is it opening to release food, and my intestines are not moving things along, just being inflamed and full of gas.

This is obviously deeply uncomfortable, I have been on a liquid diet and barely reaching BMR, on top of being dehydrated bc plain water causes a lot of pain (adding a neutral-basic substance to high acid environment=bad).

On top of that, I am not a layman, and therefore I know that generally this suite of symptoms are associated with the Big Bad Diagnoses and once they show up they are frequently lifelong and not infrequently fatal. I also know that my history and symptoms don't match any of the Big Bads and it's more likely a weirdly dramatic response to viral inflammation, and I think we confirmed that with my doctor today. She's an osteopath who used to specialize in post-GI surgical care and felt that my intestines responded to manipulation in a way that was more similar to inflamed intestines than intestines that are no longer enervated. I would tend to agree and also she relieved so much pain today, I can take deep breaths again.

However, she hasn't seen or heard of this before. She expects that if there's no active damage being done, the inflammation should be mostly resolved in a week or two, but that's based on physiological knowledge rather than specific disease etiology.

So I'm having a lot of emotions. Anxiety, bc these are serious issues that I don't have a solid timeline on resolving. Anxiety 2, bc any time my body does something weird I become paralyzed with fear that this is going to spiral into profound disability again. Shame about Anxiety 2 bc I feel like I'm being dramatic and also being paralyzed with fear makes me feel bad about myself. Concerned that this is going to trigger an eating disorder relapse. Excited that I get to relapse "legitimately" and the fact that I've been on half rations for awhile is relieving the thoughts around how much weight I've gained since getting back from Vermont. Concerned bc I'm already feeling some of the emotional effects of calorie restriction (weepy+fussy) and physical (so tired.) Shame bc I feel like I should be done being sick and I'm tired of cancelling things I really want to do and also bc I look fine and I do feel ok as long as I haven't eaten recently. So I feel like I'm letting ppl down for no reason/I should be toughing it out more. ???Bad bc this is the eating disorder dream and why can't I be functional while doing it (aka being confronted with the reality that I can't indulge my disorder in a safe way which is so scary). Fussy bc I don't actually feel sick so I still want to do things but then I do and I'm uncomfortable/tired/frustrated immediately. Shame about just lying on the couch so much. Fear bc I want to start T and I'm in the process of applying to vet school and I can't do either of those things if I keep having organ systems shutting down (I really thought my lungs were doing better but they're apparently still not deflating appropriately).

Logically I can see that if someone told me they had these symptoms I would be like "why are you not in a hospital" (as long as I can keep up on calories and liquid reasonably it's not necessary). But I'm the one experiencing it and it's not that bad so why can't I do more stuff. Even though I worked full time this week and went to a doctor appointment today and OT yesterday. But I cancelled hanging out with my bestie on her birthday today so I feel really bad about that.

Idk. I just want to feel better. Except for the part of me that wants to starve to death. I'd say that's the core of the issue lol.

[bunnyboyzyon]

Happy disability pride month yall!!!

Love to everyone, shoutout to all the disabled queers out in the world bc I love u /p (for those who may ask "do I count" here's an article, it tell you what the colors mean near the bottom so you know if you count)

Shoutout to everyone under that white stripe (invisible and undiagnosed disabilities) with physical undiagnosed disabilities who get told they're too young to have trouble with *insert body parts* or that they're just lazy or they just need to work out more. Like no!!! (Personal experience) I've done sports for 2 years!!! I climbed 4 flights of stairs everyday for months!!! I'm not fucking lazy and inactive!!! There is something going on with my legs!!!!!!

Shoutout to those who don't have the ability to get offically diagnosed for whatever reason but have been told by a doctor what they have and people are still like what if you just walked more that'd fix the problem surely (I've been told now by 3 medical professionals that I very likely have EDS, I cannot afford to get that tested so I remain undiagnosed and continually told by people around me if I just worked out I wouldn't have problems, like mf working out does not cure a genetic disorder)

Shoutout to minors with autism that wasn't caught early on who can't get offically diagnosed because their parents have a negative bias towards/misinformation about autism so "you can't possibly have it" (yes I approve of self diagnosis with proper research bc guess what, not everyone can get diagnosed bc not everyone is that privileged!!!)

Shoutout to people with adhd who get called lazy, just bc your brain working differently does not mean you're lazy!!!

Shoutout to people with undiagnosed mental disorders that don't exactly know what's going on and feel like they're going insane, you're not going insane and someday you'll find out what's going on and be able to deal with it <3

Shoutout to everyone with depression who has to deal with the crowd that thinks just going outside or smiling more will fix it, it's genuinely ridiculous that some people still believe this cures depression

Shoutout to people with anxiety that prevents them from going out, whether it be parties, small hangouts, the store, anything, it's okay, there's genuinely so many people out there who feel the same way you do, you're not alone in dealing with this

Shoutout to people whos disabilities make them a picky eater, people act like it's such a wild idea that you don't want to eat certain foods like have they met a vegetarian or a muslim??? They don't complain when they don't eat certain things so leave us alone!!!

Shoutout to everyone who doesn't fall under these shoutouts I listed, I love u too /p and you deserve to be seen too

[tremendously-crazy]

I want companionship, but I can't stand the thought of having someone reliant on me. Like. My best friend right now has diagnosed anxiety and possibly? autism, and she doesn't understand a lot of social norms, and she gets hyperfocused about her grades/intelligence.

She's rude. She insults her own boyfriend all the time and calls him stupid/sped. She cuts in front of people and doesn't even apologize. She lies straight to my face. She's selfish. She started talking to her now-boyfriend when he was still dating someone else and said, "i don't care," when I confronted her about it MULTIPLE TIMES... She's on a sports team with me but doesn't seem to care about any of our teammates except for me (And has literally SAID SO before). She's stubborn. I try to give her advice, and she never takes it. Even if she's genuinely struggling, she never takes anyone else's advice. She always skips practice and comes up with excuses for it. She's overall just extremely rigid in her ways.

During a group project I had with her, she insisted to do all the work, and wrote SO MUCH STUFF that it was hardly legible. And then she had me present it. No communication at all.

For our entire friendship, she has always been obsessed with grades and intelligence. She's always comparing herself to me and telling me I'm so smart and whatever. She asks everyone what their grades are on certain assignments (likely so she can compare her grades to theirs). She's always talking about getting into honors classes (she thinks that being in honors classes is going to help her become an astrophysicist later in life or something, but doesn't study astronomy at all). All she talks about is grades. She's always checking her grades. As far as I'm aware, her parents don't even care about her grades. She's just Like That.

She's only ever really cared about herself and me. Because I'm her only close friend besides her boyfriend. But again, she straight up lies to my face or doesn't tell me the truth! But then she overshares other details of her life?

None of my other friends really liked her. She's quiet, distant, and oftentimes makes disgusting/inappropriate remarks (we all joke like that, but she takes it too far. The way she makes her jokes is genuinely concerning at times.) And she doesn't understand sarcasm or humor at all. She has no sense of humor. She always puts ME on a pedestal (last year, she would constantly say, "You're my favorite friend. I don't care about anyone else, " and it would make me feel as though I wasn't ALLOWED to have any friends.) And lately, she's just been acting odd. I've talked to a lot of my friends about it and they've all told me that they don't really like her. But I'm her best friend. She's not MY best friend. I feel terrible. I'm a terrible person.

Is it even really her fault? She's just Like That. It's just her personality to be stubborn and strange and obsessed with grades. Because she's also fiercely loyal to me, and I've been a bad friend by venting to my other friends about her behavior.

I feel stuck. I don't want any friends because of this. I can't deal with all their burdens as well as mine. I can't just drop her. We've been friends for 4 years, and it's not really her fault that she acts like this. She can't help it. It's just the way she is. But I've been having trouble with the things she does for my entire friendship with her. If she doesn't have me, who else is going to help her with social expectations? She has nobody to tell her, "That person was just joking, I'm absolutely sure," "You're reading too much into it, and he didn't mean it that way," "Maybe you should relax/try this new method?" Except for me. I hate having friends. But I can't be mad at her. It isn't her fault. I just hate the fact that I can't be alone, that I can't be invisible, that nobody will ever bother me. Because I'm not normal either. I don't know what to do.

And I don't really know how to interact with new people, either. I'm most comfortable around the friends i already have. When I'm around people I don't know, I feel like a freak, for lack of a better word. I feel judged. I can't socialize with people because I get so uncomfortable doing it. I worry that everyone secretly dislikes me, too.

I'm sick and tired of having friends.

[boobblog]

I'm not editing this...

Luke has been worried about my heart for years. He used to tell me all the time that he seriously thinks I'm going to have a heart attack. Now, between cancer and my stupid sense of urgency that may or may not be from my time in Air Force, he is even more acutely aware. I was talking with a friend the other day and I was able to put into words what happens in my brain when I'm feeling "stressed."

Everything and I mean everything, carries an equal value of importance, HAS to be done as quickly as possible, so that no one is affected by my time management skills, but it also has to be done perfectly creating zero room for errors. If I mess something up, there is a whole shame cycle I will go through. I'm telling y'all, it's cluster up there.

The problem, there's a lot, but the one I've recently uncovered is that I'm driving myself crazy. I thrive in creative spaces, which can be spaces not always used creatively, but the tasks I'm doing become boring because I have these made up rules in my head, that only I am holding myself too. Insane right? Who in the their right mind makes up rules for tasks that don't have rules, and then punishes themselves for not meeting the expected outcome.

Me. I do that. With everything I do.

I mentioned my time in the Air Force. I did 4 years active duty, all of which were spent in Misawa, Japan, and 2 years in the reserves here in DFW. Part of me thinks I would have stayed till retirement had I not entered into the most traumatic relationship of my life immediately following my active duty stint. However, during that 10 year stint I was not ok, mentally or physically. I hurt people too. But, we can't change that can we.

Anywho, there's a video in my flashbacks of the BMT chow hall, and how all the drill instructors are deliberately tearing us down, so they can mold us into the machine that is the United States military. I'm sure you can sense where this is going, so I will spare you the imperialistic ramifications of cultivizing children. But know I'm not alone in these thoughts.

The military taught so many lessons, but it also created one of the deepest grooves in my brain that I have to physically work at daily to undo. It's annoying more than anything. But it showed me exactly how I will not be "molding" my child.

I got distracted, I was trying to explain my unreal sense of urgency and what I've learned about it. I get so angry, like Big Mad when I feel rushed. I've always thought that there was person to blame for this. Someone put pressure on me to do all these things, right now, perfectly. It's true, I always feel rushed, but no one was rushing me.

I just rushed! Why are all my epiphanies so simple when I type them out. In my brain these revelations are massive and a very big deal.

So how does my sense of urgency have anything to do with cancer you ask? The hospitalist actually congratulated me on doing all of my testing done within 2 months. He said that he's never seen that and called me the poster child of cancer treatment. What the fuck? People sit on a diagnosis like that? Why was it so easy for me to make all the 50457937 appointments, and push for all these procedures before chemo? Who knows, my sense of urgency was helpful, making the chance for me to get rid of it further and further away.

I have a particularly fucked up bag of tricks, that's what I like to call my mental health disorders. Yup multiple. I am officially diagnosed with: Severe Anxiety, Chronic Depression, Bulimia (in remission, yes, I already told y'all this, but I did that, I stopped it,) and Complex-PTSD. Luckily for me, every single one of these diagnoses presents like something entirely different, at different times. Not. So managing the symptoms and thoughts has been complicated to say the least.

Let's talk about that. Having cancer while also having depression is so fucked up. It's like the universe, said Hey look at that depressy/stressy person who already struggles with suicidal ideations, they're perfect! Let's give them this disease that will absolutley kill them if they don't do the most painful things to their bodies. But have no fear, we will call them survivors and warriors making them think this was their choice. Cancer doesn't give a fuck about your mental health. It's like here you go, now's your chance to just let go. But, if you don't fight (insert religious trauma here), so the only choice is to go suffer tremendouly while actively fighting to keep the life you didn't want to keep before.

This is one of the reasons I struggle with God the Father. Because I have the best father, and if my earthly Dad is better than some people's Heavenly father, who is capable of preventing this shit, but doesn't, then I have a really hard time wrapping my mind around an all loving heavenly father. So, I say the universe. Not to discredit your God, this is what works for me. People have used God the father to beat me over the head for years. Maybe there's a lot to heal from here still, but if he is all knowing then he shouldn't mind, right?

I'm not a warrior, I have a low pain tolerance now (tattoos do not count, that's therapy and I love that pain) and I have the weakest stomach. I struggle changing the dressings on my own body. I used to be this bad ass first assist with a stomach made from steel, seriously, I held eyeballs, and reconstructed faces after drunken bar fights between stupid boys. Now, I cry and/or throw up rubbing antibiotic ointment on my "nipples". Cool cool cool cool

I'm typing this from the notes I took last night at 0352 in the morning on my phone. I learned another thing about myself. Self discovery is a journey, and it's the only place I can go right now. So I learned that this blog will be the physical manifestations of me properly re-filing my memories. Remember how I told you guys how my PTSD hid thoughts and memories to protect me. Well now it thinks I'm strong enough to process all of them, at once, while I have cancer.

THAT IS WHAT MAKES ME A WARRIOR. I'M DOING THAT.

I wanted to start this entry with a thought I had last night. Why is it that most people are telling me I look and/or sound good when they see or speak to me? Is there a way that I'm supposed to look or sound? Am I fucking cancer up too?

Nope that's not a real thought. So imagine it is now 0406 last night and I identified an unreal thought in real time! My therapy peeps will know that this is a huge accomplishment, so get ready to have your minds blown.

That thought is irrational. I'm really only speaking at lengths to my family and they have said those things. But they would NEVER mean it the way my fucked up little brain imagined up. But that made me reflect more. They wouldn't mean it like that because I've told them about how I think and feel about the impact words have on me.

Communication is such a tool that not many people have mastered. We should be taught better how to have hard verbal conversations about things like cancer, and rape.

Ohhhhh nice seque again, rape. Yup, #metoo. Moving on, it doesn't define me, I will not be shamed, or embarrassed and I absolutely, definitely, without a second thought NOT tone down MY story for your comfortability. If it makes you uncomfortable, go touch some grass and be thankful you don't have to figure out how to "survive". Yet.

[iplaywithstring]

In 2020 my daughter (then 13) told me she had been looking at some stuff and she thought she might have ADHD. I had not considered this possibility before she brought it up, but with about 5 minutes of reflection, it made sense. We were already running on the assumption that my husband (her dad) has ADHD and our home had a lot of adhd-friendly ways of doing life and honestly some signs (time blindness, fidgeting, hobby-hopping, distraction) were overlooked.

Being that it was 2020, everything was slowed down and backed up, but being people with privilege, we were able to pay for a private psychologist to do a full assessment. It took about 3 months and ended up with a generalized anxiety disorder diagnosis and an evaluation that boiled down to "she probably has ADHD but she does really well in school so deal with the anxiety first and see if that fixes things". Took that to our GP, who basically said "I don't know what to do with this" and prescribed Prozac, which increased her anxiety so we stopped it and asked for a referral to a psychiatrist.

It took almost 18 months to get the appointment - meanwhile she had no supports, no treatment, and no follow up from her GP. At that appointment, the Dr revised her diagnosis - she absolutely has ADHD, but she's good at school, so no need to treat it. However, because she didn't respond well to the prozac and she "gets really sad sometimes" (that was actually the question he asked, no probing, or clarifying, just "do you feel really sad sometimes", to a 15 year old!), prescribed a mood stabilizer because she might have a mood disorder (bi-polar disorder). My husband (who was there for the appointment - I wasn't able to go) was so shocked and confused he just said thank you and left.

We did not fill the prescription for the mood stabilizer. No issues with taking medication when needed, but she showed no signs of excessive mood swings - she had also just had her first break up a couple weeks before the appointment. While waiting for the follow up (where I planned to advocate for treatment for the actual thing he said she had, not the theoretical maybe thing she might struggle with) I saw ads for a private clinic specifically for ADHD diagnosis and treatment. I was nervous - I've got medical trauma (it comes with chronic illness) and did not want to be seen as shopping around for pills for my kid, or ignoring medical advice, or any of the other things that would make getting her treatment more difficult.

So my husband went first - made an appointment, filled out the forms, got a diagnosis and treatment plan. It was so easy and affirming and validating for him, and since starting the treatment he's been so relaxed! He might also be able to stop his anxiety meds (he also has a GAD diagnosis, which might be wrong based on how inattentive type ADHD works).

My daughter had her first appointment this week, it felt so good. She was heard and understood. Her experience and struggles weren't overlooked. She was validated. The NP doing the appointment even mentioned how it's harder for intelligent kids to get diagnosed because they are able to mask so well and too many people just look at school performance. She has a follow up next week to go over a treatment plan. The NP even said she would look at medications not in pill form as my daughter has issues swallowing pills.

I can't express how excited I am. She's 16 now, in grade 11, and things have been so much harder on her in the last year. I'm hopeful that between the treatment plan and coaching, the transition to university will be gentle and she won't face the same breakdown so many people (especially women) with ADHD go through in early adulthood. I'm hopeful this will help her to see her strengths and to not feel so overwhelmed and broken most of the time.

It took far too long and was much more difficult (and expensive!!!!) than it should have been to get to this point, but I am so glad we have a plan now and that she feels good about it!

[my-castles-crumbling]

hey cas,

so, i dont really know exactly how to word things right so please bear with me while i try to explain a bit.

i think i have bipolar disorder (or something similar, im still looking into things), but i dont know if im just going crazy and imagining things. theres not really anyone in my life i can talk to about it to gauge their opinion, so im kind of left by myself to deal with it.

i dont have a trusted adult or loved one i can go to for help, and ive not been to a doctor since probably 2017 at the latest so im not even sure who id be making an appointment with to discuss anything like this. ive considered trying to get myself into therapy but im afraid that if i go in saying that i think im bipolar and have other mental illnesses (im about 99% certain i have anxiety and likely some sort of depressive disorder too, but that might be more linked with the mood swings of bipolar) that its the wrong way to go about it? like, i might just be really ignorant but i dont think thats how therapy works is it?

basically im worried that if i go in saying the disorders i think i have, then theyll tell me im exaggerating or that i need other people to back me up or that i do need to see my gp doctor (which, again, i dont actually think i have one) or that it isnt my place to try to diagnose myself etc.

im not really sure what im asking here? maybe if you have any advice/experience about what therapy is actually like or what i could expect? or a better way to go about getting help? i really dont know honestly aha, sorry

Well, you've definitely come to the right place lol, I've been to and ghosted many a therapist! (Don't ghost your therapist!)

Actually, recently I started therapy again and it's been a great experience, so let me tell you about it. Warning: I live in the US, so if you live elsewhere, it might be different.

When you start therapy, they're going to ask you a LOT of questions. Lots about your background, your childhood, your feelings, etc. It'll feel a bit invasive, but make sure to be honest! Like brutally honest. Like if you're like...'I might be feeling this way but idk if I'm faking..' tell them that. They need to know everything.

Then, if you're a minor, they'll talk to your parents and get their insight. If you have issues with your parents, make sure to tell them that BEFORE this part happens, so they can take what your parents say with a grain of salt.

Last, they'll give you a 'tentative diagnosis.' This means that this is what they think you have, but it's not a die-hard medical diagnosis. They'll treat you based on this, but if you ever wanted accommodations in school or anything for it, you would have to go to a clinical psychiatrist to get it written up.

Here's the thing: the diagnosis my surprise you or even make you feel invalidated. If it does? Tell them that. Because, two things: One- they may have gotten something wrong. Or two- they need to know if you aren't understanding something fully.

To be very personal, I am diagnosed with both depression and anxiety. When I started therapy recently and again got those diagnoses, I wasn't surprised. But I also was told I have 'illness-anxiety disorder' which is the new term for a hypochondriac. I was super insulted because I was picturing the stereotypical hypochondriac who fakes illnesses for attention (this was uneducated of me) but my therapist explained that this version of anxiety more means that I have a lot of anxiety related to being nervous to get sick or the results of getting sick. Which was like- oh. yeah. I do panic every time someone sneezes on me. My therapist said this has become increasingly common since COVID.

All this to say it sounds like seeking out therapy might be a great way for you to get the answers you're looking for. But even if they're not the answers you think they'll be, remember that your feelings and experiences are still extremely valid and no less real.

<3 <3 <3

[pluraldeepdive]

A comment from 2016 about viewing CDDs as "disordered" versions of plurality. I found this comment pleasantly relatable and really nice as a DID system, myself. That's my personal experience, though. Any CDD systems want to share their own thoughts?

(I'm not going to post the link with respect to this person's privacy but, for transparency's sake, this comment was found within a tulpa community.)

(Image ID is under the read more!)

[ID: "In any case, I do have a few notes I want to add. The first is on this comment:

Well, what makes DID a disorder isn't the multiple consciousnesses- it's the amnesia and derealization. Take these away, and you have a state of being that is not inherently disordered.

[Censored user's name.]

I was part of spreading this misconception, so I apologize for that. The truth is, it's not that simple. Saying DID is 'disordered plurality' is like saying 'war is scary'. It's technically true, but it downplays the scope of what goes on so much. Sadly, it took me uncovering the hidden traumagenic side of my system to get me to read DID systems' accounts in-depth and see that.

It doesn't stop at amnesia and derealization. That can be part of it, yes, but it's far from the whole. There's the trauma, whose effects will linger even if you get rid of the amnesia and derealization, which many DID systems have said is the worst part of the disorder. There's the confusion about who you are. There's the fear of being found out and discriminated against, no matter how functional you are. There's paranoia about whether you're making it all up, and frustration at being denied your own reality.

Every system's experience with DID/OSDD is unique, but... to borrow from what a member of a DID system posted elsewhere. Think of it this way. People are shaped by what memories they have, yes? Now imagine that you were born from traumatic memories, from a desperate means of surviving. You're thrown into a head with a bunch of others carrying trauma in this way, and then a few who don't know of that trauma consciously and carry on trying to live a 'normal' life. You have no context for what's going on, and even if everyone does realize what's going on, it's a mess of denial, people having conflicting desires and sabotaging each other directly or indirectly, being shoved down and denied over and over, and on top of that, some are already struggling with containing the trauma that started all this in the first place. The distrust, frustration, resent, anxiety between everyone, it doesn't go away overnight. It doesn't go away when you're diagnosed, and it certainly doesn't go away when someone tells you that the state of being that's caused you so many issues doesn't have to be a disorder. Especially when it comes off as, 'If you'd just appreciated your system more, it'd be fine! Look, look at how happy our non-traumatized and having-gone-through-entirely-different-experiences group is!'

With all that in mind, I can't really blame people for not wanting anything to do with plurality ever again. Some come to value being multiple, even with all the shit that went on. Others find they can't erase the past, or always truly 'put it behind you'. It's a wide array of experiences, as was said before.

It's sort of like... coming from a dysfunctional, even abusive physical family, and seeing all the other kids talking about how excited they are for Winter Break. And if you talk about how your family's been through the shitter, you get reminded that 'but not all families are like that! I'm so happy in mine!' Or told, 'But can't you still appreciate having a family in the first place?' Or get looked at sideways and asked why you aren't doing more to bring your family closer together. It's a slap in the face, even if it isn't meant to be that way. I don't agree with the abject hostility I've seen many clinical systems exhibit towards non-clinical systems--including a well-meaning but misguided yours truly--but sadly, I've come to understand where it comes from.

This comment took a turn for the darker, but I do feel it was something that needed to be said.

Anyway. Be careful, too, of using examples from across the spectrum to prove that other parts of a spectrum exist. If I were to claim that the color 'X' existed, collecting green objects wouldn't be sufficient to prove that 'X' exists. It would be sufficient to prove that color exists, and since 'X' is hypothetically a color, that 'X' could thus potentially exist. You would need to collect objects of color 'X' to show that 'X' itself exists. Which, well, I think the fiction writer study and Nimoy's autobiography do well enough, in any case."

END ID]

[hikarry]

You know that old saying about "breaking the family curse"? It always sounded so fucking dramatic to me. But real life is dramatic as fuck, innit? For my family, there are many "curses," things less visible — a shit load of undiagnosed mental health issues that silently influenced every part of our lives for fucking generations but that everyone insisted in ignoring.

Growing up, I always sensed there was something different about how my mother handled stress, emotions, and relationships, for example. It was like walking through a fog that we could never quite see through. Conversations were avoided, and emotions were bottled up. There were very few moments where we, as a family, spoke about our feelings. I saw the patterns repeating in my parents, my grandparents, and even in myself. It wasn't until I reached a breaking point that I realized something had to change.

I've been diagnosed with depression and anxiety - and so has my grandmother, but im the first getting diagnosed with adhd. Getting my diagnosis was like finding one of the missing pieces of a puzzle that had been scattered across generations. There is more. I know there is more. I am the culmination of generations of struggles people insisted on ignoring and that I'm working so hard to bring to light. It isn't easy— there is a lot of reaching out to my psychiatrist because my meds aren't working, and a lot of medication changes that drive me insane. I'm so tired of changes and nothing sticking. I'm losing hope on ever fixing this. Of ever having a functional brain like I had once for a week when a med by miracle made me into a normal functional adult and then lost its effect. Being back to shit after that week has been hell. But, at the very least, finally having a name for what I was experiencing, some things started to make sense.

The journey won't end with the diagnosis. In many ways, it is just the beginning. I still have therapy, i still have a lot to learn, but, even if I try to talk openly with my family about my struggles and try to explain it, they still don't understand it. They have told me in my face that they don't know what to do with me anymore, and is there a way to make someone feel like trash worse than that? I dont know what to do with myself either. I just needed someone who sat with me and cared. And listened. And tried to understand.

Breaking part of the family curse doesn’t mean everything is perfect now. There are a lot of hard days and ongoing challenges. I still haven't found the right medication and I'm in the middle of finals season. I can't study. My brain just goes blank. If I look at the laptop it's like I'm seeing Chinese. And no one gets that. No one gets how frustrating that is. I don't want to be there one more year. I want to finish my degree and be done with it, but I can't mentally study. My brain literally doesn't want me to. Does let me. It fights me, and it's so so infuriating. At the very least, it's a step towards healing, and as i dont want children, it ends with me. Or if one of my brother's children is diagnosed, they know they can rely on me.

If you’re reading this and feeling like you’re stuck in a cycle you can’t break, know that you’re not alone. All of this is a step towards understanding yourself and breaking free from patterns that have held you back. It will take time, but one can hope.