My Current Struggles with my LDS (Mormon) Faith *see post for full trigger warning*

*Trigger Warning: mentions unwanted physical contact*

Also, before y’all get it in your head that someone I trusted at church is the reason for the trigger warning you can stop jumping to conclusions and read the damn post. The Mormons I have encountered on my journey have been nothing but loving and supportive of me.

This is my first post in a few years and I’m doing this on my phone, so bear with me.

As some of you may know, due to my previous blog post, or just knowing me in person/on Facebook; I was baptized as a Mormon on May 16, 2015.

That day was the day I made not only the most important decision of my life, but the best decision of my life.

I had some struggles not long after that wonderful day. I met a girl and she was going to be baptized too. She later told me she had feelings for me and we decided to date even though it did not line up with the Mormon beliefs. She was very quick to isolate me from the support system that the church had provided me with and had told me I could not be around them or talk to them. Little did I know
that she wasn’t going to be my biggest struggle with the Mormon faith.
Months after me and her went our separate ways, I ended up in rehab for a pill/alcohol addiction and rekindled my long lost relationship with the church. I was meeting with missionaries regularly and  things were going well for me in my faith, I was finding joy again.

Not long after that, I found myself in another relationship. I moved in with the person I am currently with due to being kicked out of rehab for reasons that still aren’t quite clear to me. Little did I know, that would cause a chain of events that would leave me more conflicted with my faith than ever.

My new girlfriend and her family never voiced any concerns over me having the missionaries over, but I could never seem to get up the courage to contact them. One day they found me, but I was filled with so much anxiety that I hid in my room until they gave up and left.

Then, one day I was in the car with my girlfriends (now ex) step dad. Things had always gone well enough before so I had few worries and little anxiety being alone in the car with this man. We were leaving the gas station and he reached over and touched me in a very inappropriate manner and all he had to say for himself was “thank you”. I was in shock. I was so full of anxiety and fear and had past traumas replaying in my head as this happened. Then, later that night, me being the dumb ass that I am I found myself driving to the store with him. We stopped to see my girlfriend at work on her break and things were fine. Then, after we were done at the store, we had just gotten back in the car and he grabbed my already short hair and pulled me to him and he kissed me. I was livid. I was mad at myself and I was mad at him. How could he do these things? He was married to a wonderful woman and I am dating his step daughter! I texted my girlfriend and told her what happened and I convinced him to stop at her work again on the way home. I was panicking. I had a whole car ride home with this guy to get through and my phone was basically dead. I made it back home, and for a long period of time if he was alone in the living room or kitchen, I would stay in my room. I refused to shower alone and my girlfriend sat in the bathroom with me each and every shower just to make sure I felt safe. It got to the point where she quit her job to stay home with me so I would feel safe.

Later, her mom told me that she knew what happened and that she was divorcing the guy. I was relieved that he was going to be out of my life.

After the divorce, my girlfriend’s mom moved across the country and we had to find a new place to live.

One day, some time after all this happened, I was doing some Facebook stalking and found out that the guy who did those things to me was now a baptized Mormon!!

I felt so betrayed and alone.

The one thing that I had and that I cherished no longer felt safe. How could I be connected to a faith that he is connected to? He knew I was a Mormon, I was very open about it. How could this happen??

Before everyone says well people can change and all that shit, I do not believe that this guy has the ability to change enough to not be a total fucking creep.

Ever since this happened, I have been struggling with my faith. There are days when I want to reach out to the local missionaries and start meeting with them as I had in the past. There are also days when I cannot look at my book of scriptures, or my Mormon friends posts, or hear anything about God without cringing.

My heart feels the call of my scriptures, yet I cannot open the book. So then, being neglected my heart yearns for the familiarity of the love, support, friendship, and teachings of missionaries. When that is ignored, my heart says that I should reach out to my Mormon friends, but my ex pretty much burned those bridges. After I don’t do that, my heart says “Hey! Call the man who baptized you, he loves you and he cares about you, and he has always lent a non judgemental listening ear. So, I remind myself that in a fit of sorrow and betrayal I deleted his number and never told him I changed mine.

Thing is, the guy lives a few hours from us. I am terrified that I’m going to get a missionary or a set of missionaries that know him. I am scared that if that happens they will prove to  be fooled into thinking he is a good guy. I am scared to have someone mention my name around him and have him know where I am.

I am at a cross roads and I have been stuck here for a very long time. I am lost, I am hurt, I am sad, I am confused, I am angry, and I am empty.

I don’t know where to go from here.

I Live because I Love

This week has been a rough one.

I started my new job on Monday and I'm in full time night shift training. I am forced to be in a small room with 17 other people for 7.5 hours a day. It's a lot to handle I haven't spent this much time around that many strangers in a long time.

I have thoughts that aren't healthy. I think that my life is hopeless and that I am worthless. I wish it would all just end for good.

Then I remember that every day I get to wake up next to the person I love, the person I am giving my forever to. I remember that my actions affect the people who know me. I remember I have people to take care of.

When I remember these things I realize that life isn't a choice for me, it is just something that I must do because I know what it is like to have a loved one kill them self.

I live because I don't want to hurt other people, not because I want to, but I guess that is a good enough reason.

I live because I love.

Xoxoxo

Missing my Missionaries

So, tonight (technically yesterday since it's almost 4am) I had to say two goodbyes.

I had to say goodbye to Sister Hill and Sister Green.

Sister Hill was one half of my original set of missionaries and Sister Green was one of the most amazing ones since.

Before these goodbyes I had to say goodbye to the other half of my set of originals, Sister Towers, and another one of the most amazing ones sine I was baptized, Sister Timothy.

I love all of these wonderful missionaries beyond words.

Heavenly Father knew what He was doing when He sent me Sister Hill and Sister Towers when I was an investigator. They are literally the only combination of people who could calm me down enough to let a stranger dunk me under water in front of other strangers.

They were a great pair... Sister Towers always had (and still has) a ton of sass to match mine and she is very direct and firm in what she has to say and loudly voices her opinions... She was kinda like the toned down missionary version of me... And now she is the much less toned down Australian returned missionary version of me. (who I happen to love and appreciate)

Then, there is Sister Hill. She was always the more calm one (but you best believe this girl has some sass) she always stuck to what she said firmly but she wasn't nearly as in your face as Sister Towers. She is a gentle soul and I love her so much! The combination of the two of them was like seeing how the two different personalities I have could be if I chose to convert to the LDS religion.

(Spoiler Alert ⚠ I converted)

They have literally been there for me without judgment since day one.

I love them beyond words and it is so sad that they are back home! (Well Sister Hill leaves later today) I miss them so much!

Sister Timothy was one of the next missionaries who was sent to help me on my journey, and let me tell you... This girl is fantastic. I adjusted to her quite easily. The sense of humor this girl has is great. She's awesome. She's got sass too... Seems like a lot of the sisters do lol. She loved picking on Socks as much as I do. I love Sister Timothy to pieces.

Then came Sister Green. Another amazing choice on behalf of Heavenly Father. One of the first things this crazy girl did was grab my kitten (the skittish one of course) and after she was already holding him she asked if it was okay for her to hold him. At that point I knew we would get along well. I cannot even tell you the number of times my cats tried to go home with her and Sister Timothy. Sister Green is quiet but once again this girl has a bit of sass when provoked. I love her so much!

I am so sad that I have had to say goodbye to these wonderful missionaries. They have been there to support me no questions asked... Okay maybe just the ones about am I reading my scriptures and how are my prayers going lol.

I wish these girls the best in everything they do and I know Heavenly Father will bless them immensely.

Y'all are family now, so you're kinda stuck with me.

I love these missionaries so very much, and even though I am saddened to say goodbye to them, I am also excited to get to know the rest of the missionaries Heavenly Father sends my way.

I seem to be the person they send the missionaries to in order to help break them in because we have such a fun time in our meetings.

I am so blessed.

Xoxoxo

The Sadness

It's back

I have not been on the outside for even a week.

Not even a week.

And it's already back.

The sadness is back. 

I don't even know what else to say. 

It's just back. 

Like my shadow...

Forever bound to me.

Rambling Thoughts Before Bed

I am sitting here by my bed at 2:26 am doing one of the many, many self-evaluations I do throughout the day.

I am okay.

Not stable, but okay.

Arsen lays on my shoulder purring as I type, and Sox sleeps soundly in one of the corners of my bed on my sweatshirt.

I got my 6th tattoo today.

Along with a lip piercing.

My nightmares seem to be under control for the time being.

I am blessed.

I am broken.

I am a shattered soul with only a physical body to keep me from falling apart.

I started knitting again.

I started reading again.

Music no longer makes me want to scream, yell, and break things.

I am once again recovering.

They admitted they couldn't fix me.

They said they wanted to send me to the state psychiatric hospital on a court order for long-term treatment.

They admitted even long term treatment in the state hospital wouldn't help me.

I convinced them to send me home.

I am adjusting to life beyond locked doors.

I am laughing again.

I enjoy things.

I get exhausted and overwhelmed if I leave the house for longer than 20 minutes.

I'm homesick for my family.

I've made a commitment to therapy.

I will talk about things.

I will feel the emotions.

I will cope.

I will admit that I need help.

I want to drink.

I won't.

I love the person I know I can become.

Goodnight my loves.

Be safe.

The Battle Has Already Been Won

Things have been happening.

I HAVE A NEW NIECE!!!! 

Also....

I spoke in front of complete strangers at a missionary fireside held by the lovely Sister Hill.

I managed to finally push my controlling (now) ex-boyfriend who loved to guilt trip me, to the point of breaking up with me. This is important because he always tells stories of how terrible girls are and how they all break up with him for no reason. Well, now he cannot say that about me, I refuse to be another one of his sob stories. 

I went to church, linger longer (an after-church gathering thing), and ward prayer all in one day.

I met with my Bishop today (7/29/15) for my temple recommend interview, and I passed!! I can now go to the temple and do baptisms and confirmations for the dead! Super exciting!

With the help of the most wonderful Anna, I started some family history work. 

Tomorrow, I meet with the sisters and, after that, I am planning on starting visiting teaching with Anna. 

All of this was achieved despite being severely suicidal. Lucifer will not win this time, or ever, for the battle has already been won!

My new niece, Amanda Shaye Paige. 

7/26/15 8 lbs 5 oz

Me and the lovely Sister Hill

 (I spoke at her fireside)

My temple recommend

I Guess Sometimes You Really Cannot Escape From Hell

So, as most of you know, about a year ago I was addicted to my anti anxiety medication. Klonopin was my own personal hell. I abused it regularly and if I didn't get it I would start withdrawals. Finally, I got sick of my life revolving around this tiny little pill. I decided to tell my psychiatrist. We decided against treatment and he took me off of it cold turkey. Not long after I was taken off of the medication, I started the withdrawal process. Benzodiazepine withdrawals are so horrible. For months I felt like I was going to die. Then, I was okay again. 

Now here I am a year later and diagnosed with Panic Disorder. Turns out the medication that helps me with my Panic Attacks also happens to be the medication I was addicted to such a short time ago. My roommate and I are determined to not let me get addicted this time. She makes me take it when I have a Panic Attack. I say makes me because I try to refuse to take it. 

I tried to get myself out of hell, only for it to try and lure me back in.

Also before people start hating because the bottle says Clonazepam, Clonazepam is Klonopin. Look it up.

So I'm a Mormon...

Let's start from the beginning. I moved across country away from everything I have known. When I got to Idaho I was praying for a church. I prayed for months and then one day the Elders (Mormon missionaries) found me at a bus stop. We talked and they gave me a Book of Mormon and asked me to pray about it. My first thought when I told them where we lived was they're never going to stop bugging us as my roommate was with me that day.

I prayed about the book to find out if it really is another book full of the Word of God. While I was praying I met with the elders and they began to teach me more about the book. Soon, it got more and more difficult to meet with them as they are males and could not come in the house unless there was a male home. Then they sent the Sisters.

I began meeting with the sisters and I received revelation from God that the Book of Mormon was in fact His Word. I can't say I ever really doubted that it was, I mean if God can write one book why can't He write two, I just wanted to be sure.

Once I came to this revelation, the sisters asked me if I would be willing to be baptized. I said yes. Then, we began the lessons. Through these lessons I learned so much about Heavenly Father and the Commandments He wants us to follow. Then, we set a date. The original date of my baptism was to be May 23rd, 2015. We did more lessons and the sisters felt that I was committed enough to be baptized a week early May 16, 2015.

Then, we ran into a problem. I ended up in the psychiatric floor of the town hospital. Through my time there I read my scriptures daily and met with the sisters often. I was blessed enough to be released three days before my baptism.

We did my baptism interview and a few more meetings and before I knew it the day was here. I was terrified! I was freaking out over little things and my anxiety was pretty much controlling me. Then the sisters called and reminded me to pray. I did just that! I prayed and put on some Jesus music and was able to think clearly though my anxiety was still high.

We got to the place I was to be baptized and I put on a white jumpsuit that made me feel like a painter. We took pictures and then the service started. Soon it was time to be dunked! Brother Call did such a good job. I was terrified before hand, then when I was under the water all fears and anxiety went away, when I came up I was filled with such joy.

The next day at church I was confirmed a member of the church and was given the gift of the Holy Spirit. It was awesome!

I cannot begin to explain how much the sisters have blessed me. Recently I found out they are being reassigned. Even though I am heartbroken that they are leaving, I know they will bless more people the way they blessed me.

Much love to Sister Hill and Sister Towers!

Me the sisters and my roommates before my baptism

Me and Brother Call, the man who baptized me

Sister Hill, Anna, Me, and Sister Towers at the visitor's center

Adjustments To Life

In November I moved across country from Michigan to Idaho.

A cross country move like that is super difficult.

Many adjustments must be made to everyday life.

One of the most difficult adjustments has been not being with my family every single day. I went from living with my mom and brother to living with friends across country.

It has taken some time, but I think I am finally adjusting.

I Skype (video chat) with them whenever I can and we all have cell phones.

My mom and my brother mean the world to me, and though I cannot spend time with them the same way I could in Michigan, I can still spend time with them.

Actually, I just got done Skyping with them.

Regaining Stability or Becoming More Unstable?

December 27th 2014 I was admitted to Safe Haven.

Safe Haven is a psychiatric hospital here in Pocatello.

This came from me being very unstable. There was so much going on and on top of my everyday stressors and the holiday stressors, we found out we were going to have to leave our apartment.

I ended up at Safe Haven and was there until the first of the year.

Safe Haven did adjust my meds to the point where I feel stable again.

Being there was very difficult, my PTSD was triggered constantly. My social phobia was triggered every time I left my room. I would cry at meal times because eating makes me sick due to my Gallbladder problems, but they would force me to eat.

One day during meal time this guy just stood up and started peeing all over the table we were eating at. Also, it was a regular thing for a (different) guy to vomit all over the table multiple times during meals.

I hated being there.

I am just glad I have medications that are working.

xoxoxo

Mental Illness Crushed My Dreams

As a kid I had my future planned out. I would graduate high school, go to college, graduate college, work on and achieve a doctorate, and get a job helping others in the field of psychology.

I never even thought that my depression would get as bad as it has. I never thought the person I would be having to help would end up being myself, and I definitely never thought that mental illness would get in the way of my dreams.

I did manage to graduate high school early. After getting expelled from two traditional high schools, I did graduate from an alternative high school. Alternative school was not in my plan, but hey, I got my diploma. Shortly after graduating high school I got myself into a very expensive private college, where my tuition didn't cost me anything out of pocket and I lived on campus. Things seemed to be going pretty much as planned.

All through high school I was depressed and dealing with self harm, and it just got worse in college. My fear of people got worse. I lived in a tiny room with a complete stranger (who turned out being pretty awesome) shared a bathroom that never seemed to stay clean, and had to choose between passing grades or adequate sleep. Things went downhill quite fast.

I was almost constantly in a psychiatric hospital. My meds were always being changed. Traditional talk therapy just wasn't working anymore. My cutting had gotten out of control and I didn't care to hide it anymore. Then in an abnormal psych class I learned about Borderline Personality Disorder. I brought the diagnosis to my psychiatrist and he agreed I fit the criteria. At that point I thought for sure I would get better. Now that we knew what I was dealing with there had to be some form of medication combination that would fix it.

I was wrong.

Little did I know that BPD meant hardcore therapy because there are no medications for it. This therapy is called Dialectical Behavioral Therapy. This therapy would take 1 hour of individual therapy, 2 and a half hours of group therapy, and hours of homework each week. This therapy in itself took more time than school did.

Shortly after that I got kicked out of the school I was attending. I moved back home with my mom and I started this new therapy. Things were a roller coaster, and they added rapid cycle bipolar to my list of disorders. New meds were started and I thought I was getting better. I wasn't.

Then, after a long series of events that I may get into in another post when I'm not super tired and being sedated by my nighttime medications. I decided to put actual work into the DBT therapy.

I saw changes...slowly but surely I was getting better.

Then more things that I had little to no control over happened and I found myself in the middle of Detroit in a homeless shelter. I was no longer able to do my DBT.

Then after a few months in the shelter I was hospitalized yet again. That was a year ago today. I got out 21 days later on January 3, 2014. I did not live in the best situation and was emotionally and verbally abused.

Then more things out of my control happened and I ended up back at home with my mom. I immediately got back on meds, got a job, and got back into DBT. I was doing better, again.

Then, I moved across country from Michigan to Idaho. I have no insurance and am not getting DBT. I did manage to transfer my job out here. I am not going to say much about how I am treated or where I work because this is public and I do not want to risk losing my only source of income.

As I said in the post before this one things are very difficult here. Luckily my mom is putting me on her insurance so I can get meds, a psychiatrist, and proper therapy.

My whole point of all of this is that my friends are graduated from the same college I got kicked out of. They have their bachelors degree, and I have 5 failed years of college and nothing but student loans to show for it.

Where is my diploma for being stable this long through everything that has been thrown at me? Even in substance abuse programs they give out keychains and things for milestones. I have been out of the hospital for almost a year and I have nothing to show for it except for the fact that I am still alive.

Very few people appreciate the effort it takes to keep myself alive. Very few people hear my reason of mental illness and understand.

Many more people say I'm lazy. That I don't want a degree. That I don't want to work hard enough to do anything with my life. Those people don't realize that I work a full time job of not killing myself. Of recovering.

I have no more dreams. Those were taken from me by mental illness.

I am going to focus on me, and I am going to get well.

Maybe, once I'm well, I can make new dreams. Or maybe I can rekindle the old ones.

Only time will tell.

xoxoxo

New Surroundings...New Heartache

November 11th I left my home in Michigan to venture into the great unknown. After a very eventful and emotional journey that consisted of two planes and a cab I arrived here in Pocatello.

Pocatello is a nice town and the buses have proven to be reliable, but I have come across new challenges and heartaches.

A "new" job.

I transferred to the Kmart out here and have finally started getting hours. These people are new to me. I have to learn them just as I learned the ones in Michigan. The difference is that these ones don't seem to have faith in me. In Michigan I was working in a supportive work environment with people who love me, the people here make it known that they doubt my ability to do the job that I know I do well. Their lack of faith makes me dread work and adds continuous heartbreak. Oh, how I want to give up, but even more I want to prove to them that I am as damn good at my job as everyone in Michigan new I would be from day one.

Losing the ones I love.

I long to communicate with the people I had to leave behind in Michigan. I long to let them know that I still love them. My heart fears that as they learn to live a life without me in it that they will move on and forget me. I feel like if I talk to them as much as I want to I will annoy them and drive them away. I fear that talking to them will make the heartache worse.

Fighting roommates.

I never once thought that I would be 22 and be reliving the trauma of the fights my parents had while they were married and during the divorce almost everyday. I love my roommates dearly but when they fight I get brought back to that place where I was as a kid praying my parents would get divorced just so they wouldn't be able to fight anymore. No matter how many DBT skills I try to use it is nearly impossible to stop myself from going back in time.

New triggers.

My mental health is slowly deteriorating. Most likely due to a lack of regularly taking my meds, a new environment, new triggers, and a new therapist. One of my roommates is dealing with self harm the way I do. They are not as far along in recovery as I am and it is very hard to maintain the recovery I have achieved when I am in this situation. I now know what it is like to be plagued by the fear and anxiety that they may cut too deep while they are home alone. Everytime I leave the house I fear that I will come back to a lifeless, bloody body on the bathroom floor. This wears me down more than I ever knew it could. I have a new appreciation for what I have put my loved ones through all these years. I try to fight and stay strong, but I would be lying if I said I have not relapsed.

A broken, hurting heart.

My heart hurts in a way I have never allowed it to hurt before. There is loss and pain. Fear and guilt. What if something happens to a loved one in Michigan and I cannot get there in time? I am so far from everything I have ever known and everyone I have ever loved. I feel guilty knowing I got out of that closing store while my beloved co workers are forced to follow through with the liquidation and see the store we all love fall apart. I feel like I should have to suffer with them, we should walk out of those doors on that final day together as a family and now I'm across country. My mom has new health problems that mystify doctors. My brother is away at college with his best friend...I can no longer be there to love and protect them the way I have for so long. I admit I have been through things in life that have hurt me more than this, but I never allowed myself to feel that hurt. Now, I feel it and struggle to control it as to not allow it to take over my life. I fight every single day to keep myself out of that overwhelming depression that is continuously knocking at my door. I force myself to get on a bus full of strangers to get me to a job where no one seems to have faith in me. My life and my sanity are on the verge of crumbling down into ashes that get blown away in the wind. Every single time I think of just ending everything as I have tried too many times before I am reminded of the fact that if I end it now I will never be able to hug my mother or brother again and right now that is honestly the only thing keeping me alive. My heart aches so badly. I wish that I could just turn back time to this summer where I worked at a Kmart that was not closing with people who I loved dearly. Where I would go home to my brother playing his video games and my animals knowing my mom would soon join us. I wish I could go back to those times and freeze them so I could live there forever. People tell me I'm strong, but I have never felt so weak and helpless.

Moving and Heartache

In less than a week, I will be on a plane flying to Idaho. 

I am terrified. 

My heart aches. 

I am so scared that I am going to hate myself for leaving everything I love to venture into the unknown, 

What if something happens to my family here in Michigan? 

I have always been able to be here to provide as much hands on support as I could, and now I'll be in a whole different state. 

What if my friends and I drift apart because I never got to say goodbye?

I wont be able to support my Kmart family in the ways I have and want to during the liquidation. 

I will not be able to be there when those doors close behind them for the final time. The doors to the place I have come to love on a deeper level than I ever thought possible. The doors that lead me to some of the most supportive and caring people I have ever met. All of that will be gone and I wont be here to say that final goodbye. 

No more Saturday trips to Salvation Army with my mom. 

No more Epic Church on Sundays. 

I wont get to cuddle my cat before I go to sleep each night as I do now, and I pray that he understands in the best way a cat can. Even though he is old now, I pray I can be with him on his last days on Earth. That cat means so much to me and I love him more than anything. 

I can't just call my friends to come hang out with me when I am having bad days. 

I have to go through the process of finding new mental health professionals that I get a long with. 

I have to adjust to a new Kmart and new coworkers who even though they will never be as awesome and crazy as my current coworkers are bound to become a new part of my Kmart family. 

I can no longer get in a car, drive 8 hours and see my baby brother. I'll have to take a plane. 

The first anniversary of my best friend and my Great Grandma's deaths are coming up and I wont be here to support or have the support of my deceased friends wife, or my family. Also, I will have to figure out how to cope with this experience myself.

I wont be able to spend the holidays with my mom and my brother as I have for so many years. Also, I wont be here for my mom or my brother's birthdays. (December 12th and January 31st)

I wont be able to call TTI when I have a problem. The people who have done their absolute best to support me through my mental illnesses for so many years will no longer be the people I can turn to. 

What if my anxiety gets in my way of making new friends, or doing my job effectively?

What if I spiral down because I don't know how to cope? DBT is all about coping skills and I haven't learned them all yet. What if the ones I need are the ones I haven't learned?

What if I isolate myself from the people here in Michigan that I love so deeply simply because it hurts too much to constantly be reminded that I am so far from them? What if I hurt them in order to try and protect myself from hurt in the best way I know how? 

What if on my first day at my new Kmart I can't stop crying because I miss the one I have here? What if I allow my emotions to screw up that job for me? 

What if something happens to me and my mom can't be there?

I have never been so scared, or hurt in my entire life. 

I know that the people who offered to let me live with them are great people, but I also know I can be incredibly hard to live with. 

I know that this could be the best decision I will ever make, but I'm terrified it'll be the one I regret the most. 

It is haunting to feel everything so deeply. 

My Newest and Biggest Fear (So Far)

There are many things that scare many people. Each person has a different set of fears. From clowns to heights.

There are very few things that scare me.

But...

This new knowledge scares me more than anything has ever scared me, but in a different way than I have ever been scared.

With the one year anniversary of me getting out of the psychiatric hospital coming up I am petrified of screwing things up and I unknowingly and unwillingly got on that path again.

With the new move coming on fast I have unknowingly gone into an emotional shut down. A shut down I learned about in today's therapy session.

I also was reminded about the detrimental effects that this could have on me once I do begin to feel things again, whenever that may be.

If I do not begin to feel things again soon when I do begin to feel I will be flooded by a rush of negative emotions that could very well land me back in the hospital.

And that is what scares me.

I know I can prevent this, I just don't know how.

How does one begin to feel things again?

My therapist says I need to grieve the life I am leaving behind.

I have never "properly" grieved.

How does one grieve in a healthy way?

I do not know the answer to these questions but I need to find out because I need to do everything in my power to prevent me from going backwards in my recovery.

Much love. Stay safe.

xoxoxo

Frustrating but Temporary

Little known fact:

I was the one to bring the diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) to my psychiatrists attention. I learned about it in an abnormal psychology class, researched it and said "hey, that's me." I had my friends read the information I printed out about it and they all agreed. So, I brought my self knowledge and what I had researched to my doctor. He didn't agree at first because I, in his eyes, was missing one key factor I wasn't "upsetting enough." This doctor who barely knew me had the guts to tell me I am not upsetting enough to have a disorder when I have all of the other symptoms? Well, let's just say he quickly learned first hand over our next few sessions how "upsetting" I really am. Needless to say, by being myself I got the right diagnosis and am now getting the most effective kind of therapy.

Okay so here is the real blog post:

I am on the verge of some HUGE life changes. I am leaving the city I have known most of my life to move to a place I visited once as a kid.

My mom is not moving with me.

My cat is not moving with me.

My brother is not moving with me.

The three most important things in my life are staying right here in Michigan where they belong.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I am moving to Pocatello, Idaho.

I am moving in November.

November 11th to be more precise.

I have wonderful and supportive people who offered to let me live with them.

I've known them for what feels like forever.

I'm also extremely emotional.

Partially because of the things mentioned above and partially because they
are closing down the Kmart I work at.

It's "normal" to be emotional about moving. It's even "normal" to be upset about your place of work closing.

Here's the thing, I am upset about my Kmart being shut down when I already knew I was leaving and when we already knew in our hearts they were shutting us down.

I can see being upset for a day but it's been three and I still cry whenever I think about even going to Kmart.

It's just sad to me that they are getting rid of the place I have grown so fond of and the people I grew to love so dearly.

This is where people educated in psychology (other than my therapist who does her best to validate me instead of stereotype me) look at me and tell me I'm a "classic borderline."

I honestly am so completely devastated.

I feel as if my world is crashing around me.

Not because I'm moving to another state but because I'm losing something I knew would be temporary.

I KNEW it was temporary!

I KNEW!!

But here I am in tears most of the time because of this situation.

I'm not going to agree with various doctors who call me a "classic borderline" because that says to me I am BPD not I have BPD.

I am going to say I am definitely an individual who exhibits extreme signs and traits of Borderline Personality Disorder.

I say it my way and not the doctors way because the doctors way makes me feel like I'm stuck being "A borderline" whereas my way tells me at this point in time in my life I am showing signs of having this specific psychiatric disorder and I can work towards recovery through DBT (dialectical behavioral therapy).

I am not a borderline, I am an individual who suffers from Borderline Personality Disorder.

This is frustrating, but temporary.

Much love, be safe!

xoxoxo

Beautiful in its Own Twisted Way ( A Poem)

A life lived
People loved

Loved
Oh how 
I love them

I love you
I can't stand you

There are no in betweens
I don’t know what grey is

My love 
My dislike 
black and white

One cannot exist
Without the other

Black needs white
White needs black

Never mixing
No grey

Coexisting 
So far apart

Codependency
Without a hug

That is 
My life

Beautiful
In its own
Twisted way

Welp...Today Was a Sad Day, but Here Is Some News

It is with a heavy heart I announce that today we officially found out the Kmart me and my co workers (many of whom I now call friends) work at is being liquidated. They are shutting us down.

Liquidation sales start next week and doors close December 17th.

It hurts knowing that many of my friends will have to find different jobs. It hurts that when I come back to visit it wont be the Kmart I grew to love.

I love my job and the people I work with.

That being said you will have noticed I said "When I come back to visit" which raises the question of "Where am I going?"

I am moving to Pocatello, Idaho.

When?

Well plans are November as of right now.

There is nothing keeping me here anymore.

My mom is here, but I think we will get a long better if I'm not around as much.

My brother is away at college.

My Dad and his family are in Florida.

My job is closing.

Nothing is holding me back.

I am free.

I will leave in tears, the same way I'm crying while writing this.

But the tears and hurt will be temporary as I begin to re create myself and my life.

Love you all

xoxoxo

"I didn't know I was broken, until I wanted to change."

The title of this particular post could not be more true.

"I didn't know I was broken, until I wanted to change."

I started therapy young. I started cutting young. My suicidal thoughts and ideations started when I was younger than I care to admit.

Though I was in therapy I wasn't getting anywhere. My life was still going downhill. This went on for years up until about a year ago. Almost a year ago I was in Havenwyck Psychiatric Hospital for 21 days. My best friend had just died, my Great Grandma died just days after Christmas while I was in the hospital. I had a lot of time to think and process things. I had nowhere to go, my family didn't want me anymore. I had been that difficult to live with.

It was in that hospital room that I decided I really was going to try. There had been many times prior to this that I said I was going to change. The thing that made this time different is I actually started doing the work. I applied myself in therapy, I did my therapy homework, I listened to my therapists suggestions.

When I was forced to move back into my mom's house I thought I was going to slip into the mindset I had been in when I was in Havenwyck, but I didn't. I fought to get therapy. I called TTI many many times. I got myself back into DBT, I got myself a psychiatrist I am comfortable with, I even got a case manager. I did it myself. I didn't wait until I had a breakdown and was sent to common ground. I was pro active and I got shit done.

Now, with some changes that I will discuss at a later time once all people who will be immediately affected have been notified. I am going to have to do the same thing. I will have support, but it will always be up to me,

To all of you out there, it is up to you. No one can make you change. You have to want to make your life better.

Many thanks to Bleachers and their song titled "I Wanna Get Better" for the inspiration for this post.

Much love to all my readers.

xoxoxo

Prescription Drug Abuse

I have a confession...

I abuse my Klonopin.

For those of you who don't know Klonopin is a benzodiazepine (Benzo) that is commonly used for anxiety. I have moderate to severe social anxiety and ever since I got my job (where I deal with people my entire shift se of who are angry) I have been taking three times my prescribed dose of Klonopin.

It helps so much. It allows me to be social and outgoing at work.

I can't keep doing this.

It gives me temporary relief but what happens when three times my dose isn't enough anymore? How long until I'm taking it by the handful?

I can't live like this. I would rather have a few non benzos (non addictive) that work than a benzo that I abuse.

Last time I tried to go off my Klonopin I have severe withdrawals, as Klonopin is highly addictive.

I'm scared of how my body will react this time, but I need to go off of the Klonopin.

Suicide Prevention Day: I've Been There, It's Not Worth It **Trigger Warning**

I have been on that edge between life and death, and I am the one who put myself there.

There is nothing more terrifying than waking up with tubes down your throat hooked up to machines, one of which is breathing for you. Waking up in that situation, then turning your head and seeing your mom sitting in the chair next to your bed, that is the most terrible situation I have ever put myself in.

I was lucky enough to survive, lucky enough to wake up.

I woke up terrified not only for my sake but for the sake of my mother and my brother who I had put through seeing me like that.

I made that choice. Yes, a lot of situations lead up to that choice, but it was still MY choice. No one shoved those pills down my throat, I willingly took them handful by handful. I thought I would die, and when I woke up to find myself still alive I didn't know how bad the damage was. Was my brain okay? What about my liver?

My liver is damaged, luckily my brain is not.

Suicide is a CHOICE, and if you can choose to take the pills you can also choose to call a friend, a therapist, a crisis line, or even 911.

I've called 911 on myself many times.

Another scary thought, the overdose that put me in the situation I wrote about above was NOT the last time I overdosed.

I overdosed one time after that and got to feel the pleasure of a tube going down my nose into my stomach so they could empty my stomach just to fill it with liquid charcoal.

Why am I telling you guys this? I am sharing these stories because it takes the "glamor" away from suicide. A lot of people think after they take the pills that will be the end and that is farthest from the truth.

Suicide attempts are painful physically and emotionally and can leave you scarred in more than one way.

There is always an alternative that is not harmful to yourself, and I encourage you to take the non harmful approach.

Learn from my mistakes, don't make them yourself. I regret my choices to this day.

                                                       I went from this

To this

In three years

I went from being in a constant state of suicidal crisis and cutting every day to having a job, going to school, being active in therapy, not in crisis mode, not suicidal all the time, and not cutting every day. (Though if you keep a look out there may be new cuts now and then) 

I am in recovery!

Don't make choices you will regret, get help.

You are loved.

xoxoxo