On the personal

When Sadness and Hopelessness Seize Me

In a rare sighting, sadness and hopelessness has its grip on me.  It’s amazing how many mood swings I can have in one day.  Is that just a characteristic of having a dissociative disorder, or does everyone swing like this?    I try not to write about the every-day-goings-on of my life because it’s not always rainbows, sunshine, and unicorns bursting sparkles and glitter.  I always try to see the positive in every situation, look for the good in people, work to be happy in every moment, and strive to convince myself the remaining  noise will pass.  But tonight, I …

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Wednesday Wisdom – DO YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CHANGE YOUR STORY? Vol 2

POWER Do you have power? What is it? How do you get it? What do you do with it? Power: The ability to do or act in a particular way to direct or influence others’ behaviors.  I know in the mental health community, my experiences with power are not dissimilar to others. When I think of power, I am reminded how little power or control it seemed I’ve had over my life, particularly as a child.  Growing up, Birth Mother was more of a “my way or the highway”  type mom.  To say she was controlling and unyielding in her …

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Music Monday – All about RECOVERING! and FORGIVENESS? Vol 2

Welcome to another edition of Music Monday!  I’ll be quiet now because I have a lot to say regarding the following song “Praying” by Kesha.   Side note:   I don’t know why it turned my background white.  All words are my own except when directly quoted. I‘d also love to hear from you. What songs are you relating to right now? How do you feel about forgiveness for those whom have hurt you? What are you struggling with right now? Kesha – “Praying” While watching the video and reading the accompanying lyrics, I was all torn up and mentally chaotic. Breaking …

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Writing, Therapy, and Flashbacks

I don’t feel like conspiring to write brilliantly.  I don’t want to care that the creativity has gone out of me like a candle in the wind.  I think I shall never write again because we are not in the blackouts of depression, despair, or constant self-damnation to write from the heart and soul again. There’s a website I’m linking here called Writing Forward that has creative writing prompts, but I haven’t been doing them.  Maybe because I’m lazy, maybe because there’s no audience to which to write, maybe the prompts just don’t speak to me like writing about the …

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Deja Vu Times Two

I wrote the piece below in April of 1995.  I am posting it today because it still defines my existence.  The writing is about how it is so hard to be hopeful because there is always something to strip me of that comfort. I concede today I choose to live my days clouded with negativity, but Therapist does not understand why I refuse to give in to the fallacy of hope and positive thinking.  I’ve been in places before where I felt hopeful, optimistic, and encouraged, but I am ALWAYS, sooner or later, brought back to where I was born: …

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Resurfacing

I am now able to breathe again. This past weekend was indescribable, involving all the temper tantrums, self-deprecating thoughts, and histrionics a lapse in recovery can bring. Lying in the abyss of hell, one doesn’t feel that life can get better if you just hang on a little longer. Face down in despair, it feels like you will never find the other side of unbearable. I don’t feel the stirrings of hope today or the awakenings of promise, but I do know I’ve felt them before, and if I can keep working my recovery, I’ll feel them again. I’ll post …

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Silence of the dead

I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about how heavy my heart is. I don’t want to talk about how hopeless I am. I don’t want to talk about how lonely I am. I don’t want to talk about how fat I feel. I don’t want to talk about how I broke my heart. I don’t want to talk about how I’d rather be dead. I love my dog. Sweet potato fries (yummy!), Quorn chik’n patty with avocado, homemade banana bread, salad with Edamame, Jicama, greens, carrots, and red bell pepper, and pineapple. Kiwi fruit …

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Nobody’s home anymore

Had another session with Dietician. Why do I let it torture me so? The session just sucks the wind out of my sails, sucks out the life and makes me a ghost. I hate living in this body with everyone else. I hate feeling dirty and unclean. I hate that I can’t get off the effing exercise machine. I hate how the number on the scale defines me. I hate that food tortures me. I try and tell myself that it’s just food. It can’t hurt me. It won’t jump off the plate and attack me. But my head doesn’t …

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Help. I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.

It’s been a tough week. My depression has gotten worse and my powers of concentration have shot to hell. I haven’t been able to keep up with the blogs I subscribe to, nor have I been able to compose a new post of my own till now. I don’t have any pearls of wisdom or sage advice to give. I decided to scroll over my blog and I looked at the section of favorite recovery quotes and it hasn’t given me a little hope. I hate myself right now. It’s really hard to love myself. I’m in recovery for anorexia …

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Time after time

I remember it like it was yesterday. I was 18 years old, institutionalized on the mental health floor, and trying to justify my suicide attempt in group therapy. Another woman, about twenty years older than me, scolded me out because I wanted to kill myself and told me how lucky I should feel because I was getting psychiatric help at such a young age and that she had to live with her illness longer than I had been alive. Well, here I am, woman almost fifteen year later, and still getting psychiatric help. I’m still in therapy and have been …

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