#this post was brought to you by BPD hallucinations

[microwaved-spade]

Sometimes I have hallucinations from my BPD that makes me think there are bugs crawling on me when there isn't actually any bugs on me.

And every so often, the fates decide to throw a curveball

And suddenly, and without warning.

There is, in fact, an actual bug there.

So now I have bug splattered on me because I thought it was a hallucination, and it was not.

So now I feel guilty about killing a bug that just happened to be in the wrong place.

[drphonestre]

Jimmy | Psychological analysis of Mouthwashing's protagonist

Reminder: this analysis is based on my knowledge of psychology and on the sources I have seen in my studies (Psychanalytic and Clinic) at university. I apologize if my English isn’t perfectly understandable as it isn’t my primary language. Thank you for reading and feel free to express your POV, but also to share my post with credits (Phonestre).

Note: studying Jimmy’s personality and psychology isn’t an easy task as his anamnesis cannot be done completely, but only theoretically. Psychoanalysis isn’t much translated and possess mostly French and German terms. I have tried to translate them the best I could when I couldn’t find official translations.

Theory: Jimmy has BPD (borderline personality disorder) I will prove my point by evoking the symptoms from the clinical and psychoanalytic perspectives.

Psychanalytic perspective

First of all, it is highly noticeable that Jimmy is presenting symptoms of psychosis. Theses symptoms are a part of the borderline personality disorder (which is equivalent to the “trouble de la personnalité limite” which translates to “Limited personality disorder) in which we can find, as well, symptom of neurosis.

In Jimmy’s personality, the symptoms of neurosis which are the most noticeable are the need for control and the fact that he sets himself high standards. He needs to be the best and to succeed and tends to beat himself if he cannot be as good as he wants to be (saying that Curly is a way better captain than he could ever be, for example, and his mental breakdown after he realizes it).

We can also notice the Foreclosing (Forclusion in french) in Jimmy’s behavior and especially in his hallucinations : every mistake he make, every wrong step causing negative consequences ends up haunting him in a symbolic way, through visual and auditory hallucinations (for example : getting hunted by Polle which seems to be representing his culpability, the accumulation of his mistakes, and his possible unborn child with Anya. Each mistake from Jimmy only makes his hallucinations worse).

“The foreclosed symbolic will be brought back into reality through visual, auditory, etc. hallucinations. Delusional ideas can appear linked to sexuality, to the body, to love, or even to sexual intercourses.

There is a form of breach when it comes to the Other (with a big “O”, the unfamiliar individuals, the foreign), which makes building relationships or even having acquaintances difficult”

His only close friend seems to be Curly, in which he seems to recognize himself (the other with a small “o”, the familiar, the mirror).

In the limited personality disorder, there is a noticeable instability in the relation to others (with a small “o”), switching between idealization and depreciation.

In his friendship with Curly we clearly notice it :

Idealizing Curly as the best captain, the best version of himself, his best friend, the one he wants to be… (IDEALIZATION)

Raw hatred, feeling as if Curly was abandoning him, and that Curly was self-centered, egocentric, arrogant… (DEPRECIATION)

And yet, we can indeed acknowledge that he identifies himself to Curly (other with a small “o”), as he keeps switching between viewing Curly as the captain, then viewing himself as the captain, and showing some confusion about who really crashed the ship (thinking it’s Curly’s fault, then acknowledging it’s his own fault at the end, struggling with denial).

He wanted both: to have all that Curly had (job as a captain, success, and a form of social recognition) and to be Curly himself (getting a promotion from the company and starting a new life without difficulties, not ending up at the bottom again).

The imaginary registry will then be of major influence, causing paranoia with the persuasion of knowing what the others had planned and what they thought : persuaded that Curly wanted to abandon them and start his new life, that he didn’t like them and felt as if he deserved better than being with a bunch of “failures”, but also thinking that Swansea was keeping the cryo for himself, and that Anya was going to kill Curly when she locked herself in the medical room.

This is something we also find in the jouissance without limits (Lacan), he is persuaded that others will want to hurt him in one way or another and show a high instability in life (difficulties on earth, probably linked to having the past of a criminal).

“Jouissance causes an absence of phantasms at times, which is shown by a lack, or instability of personal goals (personal projects, professional, instable and/or that keeps changing) and irregular symptoms”

His relationship with others is driven by aggression (tendencies to yell on others, try to intimidate them, using his impulsivity to gain control on others by fear and authority) or erotism (for example: joking about being attracted to cartoon horses to Anya, SA…--> Inappropriate sexual behavior)

“The subject being stuck with difficulties to differentiate himself from others will stay in an erotic or aggressive attitude toward others.”

Jimmy seems to present a certain dysfunction in the symbolic registry : indeed, he seems to take idioms literally, for example “climbing at the top of the ladder”, needing to climb down to climb another ladder, saying that he keeps climbing even if Curly doesn’t. (Climbing at the top of the ladder means getting higher and higher in their profession in that situation).

Jim also seems to be attached to Curly, because he represents who and what he wants to be from one hand. It’s an attachment based on identification. The only moments where he seems to be friendlier and warmer with Curly is when he relates to him, or recognize himself in him (Before the crash : when Curly felt down and that they were both going to be in troubles, wanting to “fix” the situation for both of them. After the crash : realizing that they both failed when they tried to do their best, realizing ONLY when he ended up In a similar-ish situation)

“Most of his relations are empty of any warmth, and that most of the emotions are expressed in a formal way, the personal feelings entirely included. The identification seems like a solution.” (Deutsch)

Jimmy ended up identifying his job at pony express as his own life, so when he lost his job, he felt as if he lost everything. If he doesn’t identify himself as his role (co-captain, that gives him a sense of control), nor as Curly, he is nothing. He doesn’t have any particular hobbies out of weightlifting with Curly (source: devs), so everything seems to revolve either around Curly and or his job. This identification allows him to ignore his past filled with difficulties, which give him a sense of worth when it comes to his existence.

Clinical Perspective

For that part, I will use what I’ve learned from the DSM-5, for the Borderline personality disorder. Most of the things described as symptoms are fitting for Jimmy and what we can observe from his behavior through the game.

Unstable vision of himself and his identity

Unstable self-confidence, setting high standards toward himself (and others…) Ex. “I need to do everything myself” Dissociation under stressful events Hallucinations (Polle, Curly) Seeing himself in Curly

Unstable visions of his goals in life

Ex. Feeling like he lost everything because Pony Express doesn’t exist anymore, making him lose his job that gave a meaning to his life. Difficulties in the past with a noticeable demotivation (Ex. Curly had to motivate him to join the job, source : how fish is made)

Difficulties to understand and recognize the emotions of others with an interpersonal hypersensibility

Focus mainly on his own feelings and perceptions, which makes him have high expectations toward others and lack empathy

Perceptions of others based on negative aspects

Focused on what he thinks about others, points out everyone’s flaws : Seeing Swansea as a liar and useless, seeing Anya as useless and whiny, seeing Curly as self-centered and hypocrite, …

Intensity and Instability in relationships

Ex. With Curly --> strong bond but that keeps switching between “you’re the best” and “I hate you”

Mistrust toward others with suspicions of hidden intentions

Ex. Persuaded that Curly wanted to get rid of him and move on, that Swansea was trying to save himself, that Anya didn’t want to take care of Curly…

Needs of validation from others

Jealousy toward Curly, angry and annoyed whenever he hears about Curly being an excellent captain, wants to be him instead and getting the praise, doing his hardest to be called as captain

Anxiety toward abandonment (real or imaginary)

Saw the end of Pony Express as an abandonment from Curly which caused an episode

Unstable attachment pattern

Insecure Ambivalent. Ex. Sometimes, he listen to Curly expressing the way he feels, and does the same (trust), and at other moments, he doesn’t even want to hear him say anything and turns abusive

Negative affects

Anxiety, depression (with suicidal thoughts, ex. The crash), feeling of emptiness

Disinhibition

Impulsivity and risks taking (the crash, his behavior toward Anya and Curly, bursts of Anger…)

Antagonism

Hostility (always into conflicts in a way or another, with a passive-aggressive, sarcastic behavior, tendencies to victimize himself)

In men, BPD shows itself in a rather different way than in women. We can notice more : moods swings, difficulties to regulates own emotions, fear of abandonment, outbursts of anger or rage (resulting in violent behavior and more impulsivity), episodes of dissociations.

After all, his job brought him a sense of stability, of control… Something he seemed to not be able to achieve due to his “difficulties on earth”.

The loss of his job and the feeling of abandonment seems to have caused an episode, and even a “split” in the way he views Curly. The crash of the ship is nothing but the consequence of impulsivity, caused by the emotional despair. After all, we don’t really know… what if Anya didn’t hide the gun ? maybe he would have used it immediately to end himself. After all he could easily get the code to gain access to it.

The fear of what could happen once back on earth accumulated with all the negative, stressful feelings contributed to his impulsive acts. He knew he would end up “at the bottom of the ladder” again because of what he did to Anya (and that she was pregnant). He was probably fearing to get abandoned by Curly, who seemed to have done a lot to help him get through the difficulties of his past, since he helped him to get his job and become co-captain. Curly seemed to be his main source of recognition and pride, since he always pointed the positive in Jimmy, and believed in him. (Curly could be what we consider the “favorite person” of Jimmy, which is quite common in patients with BPD).

“I hope it hurts”

“pain is how we know we're still living”

From Jimmy perspective, it could be linked to him feeling constant pain, which is common in BPD. “I hope it hurts” could be seen as  “I hope you can get in my shoes”, or could simply being hope that Curly survived. I don’t think the second sentence was meant to be mean, but more of a fact that he relates, in a way.

“You are what you eat”. I think this popular sentence works well to talk about the scene where he cuts and eats Curly’s leg. Cannibalism is a metaphor I often saw in patients with bpd, and it’s true that the barrier between hate and love (whether it being friendship, romantic, etc.) is incredibly thin. So, it tends to mix together. I think that Jim might have craved being Curly, the captain, so badly that he ate a part of him to become him. I mean, in the end, he made Curly eat a part of himself, as if giving him back the role of captain, and right after that he apologized and took responsibility.

Psychosis allowed him to adapt post-crash, making reality more acceptable through delusion and hallucinations, so he doesn’t snap and kill himself. (ex. Victimization, feeling of persecution and fear of abandonment, pushing him to blame others for his own mistakes and misery).

This is why at the end, when he realizes that he is the culprit (since there is no one else but him and Curly, confronting him to reality), he ends up killing himself and saving Curly (since he still cared about him and genuinely felt sorry, after all, he thought the crash would kill them all, not only put Curly in such a state).

Indeed, people suffering from psychosis tend to snap and make a suicide attempt when they are confronted to raw reality, that is often unbearable for them if filled with guilt.

[quasonn]

for anyone willing to read, i have a little personal note. its not sad just a little bit in the beginning .

I lost well actually i ghosted and quit my job as a lawyer in 2022 after a bad string of events resulting in my complete mental breakdown, i was dead depressed and hallucinating visually and hearing stuff too, did the whole therapy thing till i could no longer afford and eventually left the city to move back home, in my tiny hill-station. I have accepted I am a people pleaser and regardless of what people say i like it, just trying to find a balance between wrecking myself and pleasing people, however with the breakdown i lost a lot of good friends which made me feel even shittier and even those that left behind are the finest people i know but even they couldnt really figure how to deal with the things i am going through, parents included, though i had suicidal feelings, i am a positive golden retriever and look forward to life, the polar opposite nature of my issues and myself is prolly why the doctor slapped bpd on my forehead as soon as i started talking to him. however this is not a sad post guys, as the months have gone by, I have accepted that it is not easy to live like this nor will people will truly understand you or your problems, maybe you will be fortunate enough to find them in your problems and i hope you do but its not going to happen for me, but I am fine with it now. I cannot return working as a lawyer, i cant explain this to my friends and family but i cannot be in a profession where someones dignity as a person is literally based on the efforts i put and i no longer have the confidence to hold such a position any longer when a random flip in the switch will leave me fetal position under the bed for hours trying to shut off the world. so i am good with it, i still dont have a job but im working to learn new skills, i even have some new goals, the first one being getting a job, and travelling....but really why i wanted to share this note with you guys is because i met a girl yesterday, and i didnt know it was possible to have the stomach squishy squishy feelings at 28, but it fell great, she was great, pretty, adorable, funny....i might need to learn more adjectives to describe, i have been single for so long because i thought i cant be in a relationship when i hold such a dumbass mental condition but i dont know guys, i mean i dont have a job yet and there is the brain being a fuzz bucket, but i am not sad nor am i thinking pessimistic thoughts at all, in fact i am thinking, shit i could make things work, idk i feel rather optimistic. I feel in love. God I am gushing as i am writing this. okay 'in love' is a stretch but i was making up nicholas spark worthy monologues in my head when i returned home yesterday lol. I was very drunk though yesterday, it was a friendly outing, and a friend of mine brought her along. I wanted to share this with my best friends really cause you know this boii hasnt been like this since like 2016, but one had a recent breakup and the other best friend is the partner she broke up with, so i cant even send her a 'sup' before it goes into a full blown, "how can he do this?" "How did she do that?" its been 5 months already and i find myself third wheeling their trauma too post break up. so here i am in tumblr, hungover and sharing with a bunch of strangers how i met a girl yesterday and since then i have been cartwheeling around town cause the giddy wont stop. lol thenkz for the listen!! this has been fun.

[pretty-volatile]

Well fuck

Thursday, June 13th, 2019 9:30 am

Okay so like maybe this isn't the heeaaaltthiiessstt buuuttttt, I was looking shit about my good ol mental health and trying to understand shit. I literally only have 8 days left to see the psychiatrist and only 4 days until I can see my therapist. But anyway....so I realize I may experience 'bipolar psychosis'. I'm still new to trying to understand hallucinations, delusions, and disorganized thinking & speech. My struggle is trying to dictate what I've experienced and if that's what it is, or if it's just me being weird or something. I don't know. I'm trying.

Here's reference though, especially for me to bring up the the good ol professional helpers when I see them :P

I've had visual hallucinations in the past I'm pretty sure. Glimpses of shadow figures in the corner, one time I saw what looked like someone that hung themselves. Oh and when I was in hospital for my first suicide attempt, I saw a little girl in the room that I stayed in (I was by myself because I was on suicide watch, window in door & round mirror in corner so they can make sure I didn't do anything). I remember writing about her and I think I did a little doodle of her. I don't think I experience visual hallucinations currently, but I do see like movement in the corner of my eye but then when I look, nothing's there. The only distress it really causes is slight paranoia. I'm okay for now but uh, what if it gets as bad as when I used to see the shadow figures? Oh and when I was younger I also saw orbs of light on the wall even though the only light was coming from the radio that was on the ground so there wasn't really any explanation for the light source.

I've only randomly smelt something that wasn't there a couple times, but usually it's not distressing, so much as a "where'd that come from?". Then I just move on.

Since I've been experiencing some mania/hypomania, I experienced some good ol insomnia, racing thoughts, anxiety about stupid ass shit such as "what if the smoke alarm goes off? I wouldn't know what to do" and I like physically cringed from the thought of having to deal with that. I know I definitely have intrusive thoughts. Whew those are NOT fun. Most times they're like violent? Ish? I get this paranoia sometimes when I'm walking I have this internal feeling that someone is pointing a sniper at me and I'm just waiting to fucking die the longer I stay in the open where they can shot me. Or that any talking or glances in my direction are actually because those people are judging me or reading my thoughts or they're making fun of me, huge mood if they're laughing/smiling in my direction but usually it's not actually at me but I can't shake the feeling. The only way I can get myself to keep walking and ignore it is if I look at the ground and listen to music with headphones in. I also tend to have this tendency to imagine what if a shooting just broke out while I was walking across campus and what would I do to either save people or attack the perp or flee for my life. I also have these rage impulses to like deck someone in the face or push someone down stairs, even if that person never did anything to warrant it. Last night while I was awake with my eyes closed, just letting my thoughts do what they needed to do since I couldn't fucking stop them!!!! Ugh I hate nights like that. That's why I hate going to bed sometimes. I'll lay down and my head is just flooded with memories and trauma and stressors. I don't know if this qualifies as Disorganized Thinking or if it's just 'thought-chatter'. It just keeps going from one thought to another and sometimes I can't even remember what I thought. It just won't stop and I'll be up for hourrsssss. Then when I wake up I'm like Extra Grumpy. But when I was laying there trying to go to bed & I was experiencing the racing thoughts, I started to fucking feeling the crawling on my legs again. Much more than usual. And it got worse when I brought attention to it. I kept tossing and turning and trying to like itch the tingling/crawling away. I'm assuming this is like that bugs crawling you hallucination, right? Like when I first felt it last night, not the first time ever but the first time during that episode, I literally swatted and itched to get the thing to go away. Meanwhile my partner was asleep so I was trying not to move too much. I just couldn't get my thoughts to stop. And they'd go from one to another even before I was done like thinking about the subject? And then I wouldn't be able to remember what I thought, so I just had to go with the thought change. I mean, I do smoke weed but I'm pretty sure this happens when I'm sober just as well. Plus lately, it doesn't even feel like I can get High. Like even after I smoke 2 bowls I feel somewhat coherent still and then it goes away fast. But sometimes it's the only thing that helps the rage/depression/anxiety/insomnia. It's the crutch I'm trying to use until I can actually get on meds.

Oh and sometimes at nighttime, as I might've mentioned before, I get that like I can hear a radio playing the distance, never a full song but like phrases of songs either on repeat or blending into other song phrases that sounds like one long fluid song? But I can't always make out lyrics. Or sometimes it'll sound like a TV or something is on and I'll hear sound snippets and I'm only sure of one instance where I actually heard something/someone say 'hey', which was scary because it was nighttime and my partner and I were both trying to fall asleep. I can't fall asleep until I know the causes of the sounds I'm hearing. I experienced this a couple times last month, but I don't think within the past week or two.

I honestly don't know. Time feels so fucking weird. It feels like it's been so fucking long since I've realized this whole bipolar/BPD situation out a lil. I think realistically? I might have looked up BPD in April? Maybe earlier? But that feels like so so far away. But then again, time feels like it's moving really fast? I keep waking up and just restarting the day but with like different events/moods. Everything feels like it's on repeat or like I'm in a fucking cycle that I can't get out of.

Does anyone else experience memories/trauma as if it's like a virtual reality that they can just steep their mind into? Like I have REALLY good spatial memory, so I can like walk through the places I've been in in my mind. I can feel almost everything that's happening definitely emotionally/spatially. All while my eyes are closed and my thoughts are just drifting as if someone is controlling them. Like I don't know how to explain it. It feels like there's something else bringing me these thoughts/memories. Like my conscious self is not in control, I'm just watching as if it's a movie. But like I can feel it too.

I know especially before I've drawn and talked about/had a conversation with like these 2 different aspects of myself. One's always depressed and clingy and just thinks the world would be better off without them but simultaneously needs as much validation as possible and the other is like the voice that tries to give reason & keep the depressed/angry/melancholy part of me to keep going instead of like taking over I guess? I don't know. This post is long enough. *Sighs* I hope I get the help I need and I hope I can address as many issues as I can/have knowledge of.

[kyetalksshit]

Update for the first time in SO LONG

Hey guys! 

So it’s the 4th of july and I’m tipsy. Happy shitty ass holiday to all of u who care about it. I don’t. Fireworks are boring and sound like gunshots and loud ass cis white republican christian people get louder than usual about how “great” this country “used to be,” and get to celebrate the day this country was founded on native american genocide and rape and began an era of slavery and racism and a bunch of other motherfucking goddamn bullshit. 

Anyway. 

I told a storytime on my youtube channel about my ex who I called Gregg (bc he looks like Gregg Sulkin, or at least I thought he did back then. It’s actually a two parter so far. I have yet to get to the part where he dumped me over text and then tried to be friends with benefits with me, I refused, I tried, he refused, we fought a lot, repeat cycle. Wow that was a fucking shitstorm. Finally unfriended him a couple of months ago because of a shitty ass facebook post and I just didn’t have the energy anymore. Plus, he has a girlfriend now, and at this point any desire to communicate with him was based on a pure physical attraction and/or wanting to have some sort of intellectual conversation with him because, as much as I honestly still kind of resent him, I do admire his brain. Anyway.) 

So when I told the storytime, I spent a good hour going through my tumblr for posts about him (and his, for posts about me, which I remember desperately hoping for back when I was still with him or right after we broke up) and it kind of made me miss blogging. 

This has been the longest intro in the fucking world. Oh my god. Ugh. 

Anyway. 

I just kind of wanted to get on here and talk a little bit. 

I don’t remember what my original pushing thought was, since again, I’m tipsy, and I got so sidetracked talking about “gregg” (though let’s be real, if any of you watch that storytime and have followed me for long enough, you know exactly who I’m talking about. He doesn’t even follow me on tumblr anymore. He unfollowed me a long time ago, actually. And now that I’m talking so much about him I’m kind of tempted to text him, which would obviously be a fucking bad idea, but you know. I’m a masochist. We’ll see what I do later I guess. I don’t know.) 

I’m kind of miffed today. And by that, I mean I’m actually hurt but too prideful to say I’m hurt. My family is very clearly celebrating for this shit holiday, which they don’t know that I don’t care about, by the way, and no one even invited me. Yeah I was working most of the day but I got off at 8, and anyway I hadn’t told them I was working. My mother probably just “assumed I had to work and couldn’t make it” again. Even though she promised to make more of an effort to invite me to things. My heart hurts. 

Yeah I don’t care about fireworks, but I love my family and I miss my niece and my sister isn’t talking to me because apparently I’ve changed and she misses “Amber,” not “Kye.” (Oh yeah, I go by Kye now. Just, btw.) 

What she doesn’t seem to realize no matter how many times I tell her, is that Amber, that girl she grew up with that she apparently misses so goddamn much, she doesn’t exist anymore. She was a fucked up piece of shit too, if I’m being honest. I call my past self Amber instead of “past Kye” because I don’t know her anymore. You know why? 

Because I’ve been through so much motherfucking goddamn bullshit since then. I was raped. I left my family for a goddamn year over some slightly shitty but WAY overexaggerated bullshit (that, let’s be real, I’ll never fully forgive myself for) that was twisted into a horror story by the evil ex whose name I can’t even fucking SAY because it makes me feel fucking nauseous. I almost killed myself a couple of times. I cut over and over and motherfucking over again because I was so goddamn depressed, I got kicked out of TWO apartments (once because my roommate was just a bitch and wanted any made up excuse she could find, the other because my alcoholic roommate who sexually assaulted me MY FIRST NIGHT THERE and who is STILL my dm for one of my dnd games and tries to pretend he fucking cares about me, hallucinated our neighbors trying to kill us and made me take him to the hospital and file a police report when it was just his goddamn mind). I’ve been so broke for the past couple years I was a camgirl for awhile. I did live camshows for money. I also sold photos and videos of me naked, sometimes taking requests. It made me fucking miserable and gave me flashbacks but I was jobless and had to pay rent. I’m not going to lie, I’ve been considering starting again because I’m broke as fuck and I want to cry from how stressed I am most of the time, but I haven’t yet. You know why? 

Again, I was raped. And sexually assaulted, not just by that roommate, but also by two family members (like when I was a kid) who will remain unnamed (who never even said I’m sorry, by the way, even when I brought it up. I still hang out with one. How fucking sick do I have to be to still hang out with a family member who sexually assaulted me and apologized to my sister for touching her, but not me?). But also because I’ve been in this deep disgusting ass pit of self fucking loathing recently. I feel fat and ugly and nasty more often than not, every time I get a crush or a lust-crush on someone I start to feel guilty about it because how dare I burden someone with the weight of having to deal with my affection? I feel lonely and also selfish for feeling lonely, I miss my family but I also avoid them. And then I get upset when they don’t invite me to things. 

This is the last holiday I’m ever going to spend living in North Carolina. Connor and I are leaving for Los Angeles on August fucking 5th. I’ll be around for my brother’s and my cat’s birthday (incidentally they’re both on August 2nd), but then I’m gone. I won’t be able to make it to Christmas this year because let’s face it, I won’t have the money. The soonest they’re going to see me after I leave is MAYBE Christmas 2018, and I’m not even sure that’s going to happen. Hell, I’m not even christian anymore, celebrating it feels weird. 

Also, going back to this whole name shit and “I’ve changed” bullshit, Amber was an asshole. She made racist comments and used to say the “n” word back in high school. She literally laughed in boys’ faces when they asked her out if she wasn’t attracted to them, not even just because they were “out of her league” because she (rightfully) didn’t believe in “leagues,” but just because if she was going to say no, she was going to be a bitch about it. I remember one of my best friends’ little brothers asking me out in 9th grade, and he was in like 7th. He was OBVIOUSLY too young for me but I should have been fucking nice about it. Instead, I laughed at him, literally fucking laughed at him, and just said “omg bye.” 

She also didn’t know how to stand up for herself. She was mousy and depressed and anxious and small and hated herself and so who gave a fuck if people used her because what good was she herself anyway? Like yeah, Kye is fatter and her mental health has gone down the fucking drain (no really, my counselor thinks I’m borderline and I really need to be medicated honestly because it’s so hard to function I’m scared I’m going to fail at trying to be alive) but at least she can mostly say no, and she can cut people out her life when she wants to. At least Kye can pinpoint when people are trying to manipulate her (though if we’re being honest here, and holy fuck we really are, since the fucking evil ex aka my rapist, my mind is warped as fucking hell and I don’t know what’s real anymore. The amount of manipulation I have imagined and overreacted to is insane. My uncle wallace won’t talk to me because I overreacted when he had a shitty opinion and posted it on a status of mine, and I took it as him attacking me. I want to cry every time I think about it but I already sent him one long message explaining why, and then the next day I sent a really long apology message. I don’t know why I keep fucking things up with everyone I care about. It feels like Connor and my cat are the only ones I have anymore, and even Connor can drive me crazy sometimes because obviously, that’s how people are who live together and have known each other for 8 fucking years, and I’m so hard to live with and deal with because of the bpd and the fact that my anxiety shows itself in irritability and the amount of times I’ve snapped at them for fucking nothing is absolutely ridiculous. I’m mad that they still haven’t learned how to drive and we’re moving in a month and it’s looking like I’m going to have to drive by myself from one coast to another while they blissfully chill in the passenger seat and doze off or play on their phone or whatever, but in reality they’re probably really anxious about it too and they probably feel bad but can’t make theirself do it and it’s just I feel so shitty all the time oh my god). 

I don’t even know what the point of this post is, I just think I needed to vent somewhere that I don’t have to be careful what I say because no one reads this shit anyway. The second I vent where ANYONE in my family can see it, they’ll all jump down my throat for being “disrespectful to my parents” or some other bullshit. They fucking love bandwagons. One of their favorite phrases is “my army is bigger” and honestly that shit scares me because yeah, it is. And that goddamn army is too fucking prideful (like me) to accept when they maybe should hear someone out, and they will literally cyberbully you if they can. It may sound whiny, but I really do feel like I was cyberbullied that day with uncle wallace. I’m not even kidding (and again, no one reads this so I don’t feel bad saying this because it’s tru) I legitimately wanted to kill myself that day. Everyone was jumping down my throat AGAIN over something I said that hurt my mom when I didn’t even know it hurt her. If I had, I would have taken it down and apologized. They were also attacking me for an immature snapchat saying “fuck you and your shitty ass opinions” which was about my uncle, and yeah I deserved a little of that bullshit but I admitted that was wrong very shortly after. He wouldn’t even hear me out, but I was the bad guy, the disrespectful, ignorant black sheep who treated everyone like shit. I keep trying to pretend I’m over the whole thing but I’m so not. I won’t forget who said shit to me and who didn’t. Because that shit fucking hurt. 

I don’t want to tell Connor how mad I am over something they may not be able to control, I don’t want to fucking rub my sister’s face in how ‘not’ Amber I am (also, just, sidenote, the main reason I changed my is really because I hated Amber and wanted some control over my life and it really has made me happier, but also honestly it was partly because my fucking rapist has never called me “Kye” and so when I’m having fucking rape flashbacks I can separate myself from it so when she insists that Kye is horrible and she hates me now (she didn’t say that but she said I wouldn’t be in her life if I weren’t family and let’s face it, I’m not in her life rn anyway and I may as well not be family with how I’ve been treated recently, not that it’s not partly my fault, but still) and that she misses Amber, who she grew up with, who is the one she misses, not me, not who I am now. Honestly, when we were fighting it felt like she only said that because she needed a concrete reason to be mad at me so she grasped onto the fact that I’ve changed, which my whole family complains about, but

Look at all the motherfucking goddamn fucked up shit I’ve been through in the past few years. OF FUCKING COURSE I’VE CHANGED. It hurts like hell that my ENTIRE family is mad that I’m not the same girl who left them for an abusive fiance. Like yes, I’m kind of a bitch now when I need to be, and yes I overreact to things BECAUSE I’VE BEEN THROUGH TRAUMA U DON’T JUST FUCKING GET OVER THAT, and yes I changed my name and I’m not the motherfucking goddamn same but how dare you want me to be? 

I WANTED TO DIE. EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE. I HAVE NEVER HATED MYSELF AS MUCH AS I DID THEN. I HAD TWO EATING DISORDERS, AN ADDICTION TO CUTTING (for which I’m now getting urges so I’m going to end this soon), I HATED EVERYONE I KNEW, I WAS FUCKING SO DEPRESSED I COULDN’T EVEN, UGH, I WAS ONLY SLEEPING ONCE EVERY TWO NIGHTS SO I WAS HALLUCINATING, I PUSHED AWAY EVERYONE WHO EVER GAVE A SHIT ABOUT ME, I SNAPPED AT EVERYONE WHO WAS NEAR ME WHEN I WAS ANXIOUS AND I DIDN’T KNOW MY TRIGGERS. NOW I CAN AT LEAST SEPARATE MYSELF FROM THE SITUATION SO I DON’T HURT PEOPLE AS MUCH. I DON’T TALK ABOUT THE VIEWS I HAVE THAT CONFLICT WITH EVERYONE ELSE’S SO I DON’T HAVE TO ARGUE WITH ANYONE. I HAVE MADE MYSELF SMALL, THEN MADE MYSELF BIG, AND REVERT TO SMALL WHEN I’M AROUND THEM, BUT IT’S STILL NOT FUCKING ENOUGH FOR THEM. 

WHEN, please fucking tell me WHEN, when will I be enough for them? 

[e-vacstation]

Enemy or Friend?

During my second post I said how a presence had chased me home one night.  I’m sure it hard for some to believe, sounds crazy really.  Yet it happened.  It was hard to explain at first to my psychiatrist when he asked for more detail about it.  Someone says they have a thing that they can hear and see you think hallucinations right? At first you said I was hallucinating thus meaning something more serious such as schizophrenia.  After this episode this was something I worried about though I wasn’t exactly hallucinating.

Over time I became more aware of this presence and she began to take shape.  During that first night it was just a shadow of a person no other real details.  Beside the shadow was a large white-yellow-goldish tiger.  Even now I can’t pick just one color that it was, it was like a shifting between those colors into something I couldn’t name.  Sounds terrifying.  This is what chased me home that night though I didn’t actually see them.  Let me explain what I mean.

I didn’t actually see these figures in reality.  I saw them in my mind’s eye.  Think when you look out a window to a tree outside, it's just a tree right.  Now picture someone sitting on a branch of that tree.  You see it but not actually seeing it.  You see it in your mind.  Now what happens when this image becomes strong enough that when you look you see nothing is actually there but you feel it.  That feeling that someone is watching you, next to you, behind you...but when you turn to look no one is there.  No one is ever there when you look but that feeling doesn’t go away when you look away, it stays.

More and more I would feel this presence, less the tiger but more the shadow.  Over time she began to take shape of a woman.  I didn’t know who she was or see any detail of her but I knew it was a she and that she was always there.  When I was at home either alone or not, outside just walking around, when I would be at work, everywhere I went.

As she began to take form I worried that she may be another personality, though that theory was crossed off since I was aware of her.  Probably the scariest moment of her taking form was when she spoke through me.  I had heard her voice before that night when I was trying to remember how to breath after I got home.  One of my roommates tried to talk me through it as I tried to steady my breathing.  I don’t exactly remember what we talked about but I do remember the presence spoke in my mind as if to respond to our conversation.  She told me how it didn’t matter what they did, I was hers and hers alone.  When she spoke through me was different.  I was texting a friend as I was breaking down to attempt to reach out to someone.  It was at some point it was like I turned off, like I was weak enough that she came through more.  She text through me using my voice to say her words.  I knew what she typed but it was as if I couldn’t stop it.  She didn’t keep her hold for long and as with a lot of events during this time it’s fuzzy.  I don’t remember what brought me back or what happened after that just the moment of her in control.

These events were before I was able to find a psychiatrist so we were all clueless as what to do about her or what she was.  As time went by she grew stronger with a body that I could see.  Even one night she gave me her name.  I had thought about her as I was falling asleep one night trying to think of what she was or who.  The last thing I remember was a voice saying “my name is Tasha”.

I had a name.  Something to call her by and with it she became more solid in a way as oppose to a shadow or something you see out of the corner of your eye.  I even drew a sketch of her when I first saw her standing with me waiting for a bus.  Tall, probably 5’5” if I had to guess though it was probably the heeled boots she wore.  A pleated skirt that hit her mid thigh with a blouse that had a deep v-neck and flowy sleeves.  Long straight hair hidden by white tulle that started at a hair clip, sort of like a wedding veil but just covering her hair.  Tasha wasn’t just a shadow chasing me in my mind she was like a real person but just someone I saw in my mind.

Surprisingly the more solid she became the calmer she was.  Less trying to hurt me or take me over to almost comforting.  A theory I had and still hold on to is that the aggression I felt and experienced at first was a way to get my attention.  Once I acknowledged her it was as if she chilled out, Tasha had the attention she wanted no reason to act out.  I looked for her, felt her all the time, and at a later point attempted to speak with her.

In my attempt I first consulted my therapist on if this was a good idea.  Once I got the green light from her I told my roommate, Nora.  We agreed I would try to meditate and reach out for Tasha while Nora would come in and check on me once every 20 minutes.  I sat in my closet, closed my eyes and focused on my breathing.  This wasn’t as easy as it sounds, just meditate and ask Tasha to come out, sure easy.  We didn’t know if it would work or not.  After 20 minutes it was time for the first check in, everything was ok I was still here.  It was after that check in that Tasha made herself known.

I’m not sure how I got there but I was in a dark area the floor was like stone beneath me.  That’s when I saw her but not like I had seen her before.  Every other time she had an air of confidence, a fire to her.  This feeling was different.  She was weak, the fire but a mere flicker of light.  She sat with her knees to her chest inside a large rusted metal cage.  As I approached I saw the door was larger than it should have been.  I called out to her but she wouldn’t move or even look at me. Why are you there?! Get up?! I would yell at her but nothing, and the next thing I knew I came to.  I awoke on the floor with Nora above me, mentally I was there but my body was heavy and exhausted.

I’m sure it’s hard to believe even after reading me explain it.  I thought I was actually losing my mind.  It was just one more thing I couldn’t explain and didn’t know if it was connected to everything else.  There were few people I could tell, how exactly do you explain this to someone even someone you trust? The look they give you sometimes is almost as scary as going through it.  A look of not sure what to do, how do I help, can I help, this is crazy.  As the person experiencing what good comes from telling someone something like this, what can they do to help? Will that person think you’re actually crazy and stay away from you no matter how much you try to cling? On the other side as the person watching this.  What do you do? Over time your friend deteriorates before your eyes, a shadow of their former selves.  The things they do tell you are so beyond what you know how to handle.  Or in some of the E-Vac crew, what can I do being so far away? The feeling of being so helpless as someone you care about suffers so much, you know you can’t take their hurt away or chase the demons away that they see and hear.  

Mental illness hurt not just the person going through it but the ones who care about that person.  Even with Tasha calmer how can someone not worry that she is a part of something bigger.

You’re probably wondering what Tasha turned out to be.  Even now my doctor’s are 100% sure of what she is.  They can rule out what she’s not but it’s a bit harder to stay for sure what she is.  The theory that both my psychiatrist and therapist agreed on what she was the result of depersonalization.

Depersonalization is as it sounds, the detachment of yourself.  I like Wikipedia’s description:

Individuals who experience depersonalization feel divorced from their own personal self by sensing their body sensations, feelings, emotions, behaviors etc. as not belonging to the same person or identity. Often a person who has experienced depersonalization claims that things seem unreal or hazy. Also, a recognition of a self breaks down (hence the name). Depersonalization can result in very high anxiety levels, which further increase these perceptions.

Depersonalization as both a symptom and a disorder are equally rare so it’s no wonder my therapists and doctors were intrigued by it.  Here are some numbers I found to try and get an idea of how rare it is:

Its estimated that 2% of people experience dissociative disorders, with women being more likely than men to be diagnosed. Almost half of adults in the United States experience at least one depersonalization/derealization episode in their lives, with only 2% meeting the full criteria for chronic episodes.

You might be thinking now that I’m on medication and seeking treatment for BPD Tasha is gone.  Not really.  My therapist also theorizes that Tasha is also someone I keep around to keep the feelings of loneliness from overwhelming me.  I still see her sometimes.  It’s not as strong as before.  Moments of feeling Tasha as opposed to days.  She feels further away on my good days but right next me on my bad days.  She’s no longer a separate entity but a part of me, at least that’s my thought of her.  Like a piece of me I lost over the years but she came back with a new name to knock some sense into the shell she became.  I suppose I’ll never know for sure what she is or how she came to be but she’s here.

Co-captain signing off for now.