mainly for venting

i want to let you know that this has been the best my life and my mental health has ever been.

i’ve been having therapy twice a week for over a year now, my therapist is amazing. i really love her & i have learnt so many valuable skills that have enabled me to keep my head above water, even when i’m being dragged down. i have my own back, my own independence & i’ve proven to myself, that i can do things on my own. that if everything gets yanked from beneath my feet, and i am left with nobody beside me, i can rebuild myself and my foundations again. i’ve grown to know who i am & love that person. truly love her. & i want the best for her.

i’ve been on epilepsy meds (for their mood stabilising & anti anxiety benefits) since 2020/2021. the only combo that has worked for me. in 2019, i received a new psychiatric assessment, id not had one since i was 17 - (which amazingly, that experience is probably still somewhere on this blog). i had bpd reaffirmed lol, & i received a ptsd diagnosis. since then, i also received a diagnosis for adhd combined (inattentive & hyperactive) which makes a lot more sense. i don’t believe that i meet the criteria anymore for bpd, bless my young heart who thought i would experience those symptoms forever. they still crop up, but i know how to manage them now.

i’ve been on adhd meds for 6 weeks & they have changed my life. kind of feels like it was this all along. underneath all the diagnoses & misdiagnoses - it was probably always this. at first, i mourned a clearly very unhappy child & teen, who couldn’t quite understand why she was different. always believing something was ‘wrong’ with herself. i mourned the ignorance & how maybe my life wouldn’t have been this way if people were more aware, people looked more, listened more. and then i accepted it. i’m relearning who i am, trying to find that tricky balance of understanding where adhd starts and where bibi begins. it’s a journey, but i’m not overly attached.

i’ve not self harmed in 2 years. the last one, ending in a very horrifying hospital trip. i received 12 stitches. and i was stitched up by a nurse who told me she wouldn’t give me anaesthetic because i did this to myself & so i was tough. it wasn’t said complimentary. the wound also got scarily infected. i learnt that s/h was although, a response to trying to regulate my emotions, it was also used to try and receive care. i wanted to feel looked after & most hospital trips, served as that. i felt neglected, unloved, disposable. most nurses don’t care who you are, their job is to help and sometimes i just wanted that. help & nurture. but there are people in my life and most importantly, me, myself, that can also offer myself this nurture & care. and it was getting very dangerous - i was becoming obsessive & compulsive. fascinated with anatomy. knowing that i was getting to a place of irreparable damage, but i also didn’t really care. i guess, that trip really did serve as a deterrent. i hated that my parents were scared again. that i lived essentially on my own, none of my friends left me on my own. i was signed off work for 2 months. i’m not going back there.

one of the side effects of my adhd meds is a lack of appetite. this was actually my primary focus for coming back to write here. i’m not sleeping till 4-6am most nights, waking up at 9am and moving on. my body hurts, but my mind feels calm & in tune. i have to monitor my weight & blood pressure weekly. since starting them 6 weeks ago, i’ve lost over a stone. and so this is rough. i’ve spoken to one person about this, & i still couldn’t really verbalise it. i’ve not told my therapist. is history repeating itself? a part of my mind that got put predominantly to rest has been triggered. the weight loss was unintentional & not too conscious. it’s not so much now. i’m restricting again. i feel immense guilt and shame for allowing this to happen. i’ve learnt to like my body. i feel confident & it makes me money. i’m known for being the big titty, little waist, fat ass girl. its become a part of my identity. i don’t want to lose my shape or curves. i’m scared that will happen if i’m not careful & im not being careful. i’ve been down this road before, i know how dangerous this is, if this slips, i can’t help but wonder what else will? i’m too old for this, i’ve come too far for this. i’ve not told my partner, because i don’t want him to monitor me…i don’t want him to stop me. i want this & i don’t. i’ve not told my prescriber this, and we are already talking about maybe switching to a different medication. i’m scared for a few reasons: i like that i can function on little sleep, i like that i don’t binge eat, i like how i feel happy & my brain feels calm, i like that i feel great, really. however, it does contribute to uti’s and i am quite poorly with one right now. im scared because my other option straight up lists anorexia as a side effect, im scared because i don’t want that, but a part of my mind does. i’m scared of losing these nice feelings. so i’m not sure what to do with that, i think i need to be honest with those around me. that’s hard though.

i don’t want to go backwards, when i’ve come so far. i start a counselling qualification course next week, i’ve been putting that off for a year or so. fear of failure. self conscious. insecurities. all that. my therapist mentors me as well, which i enjoy. thats where i want to be, i want to be where she is. apparently if you’ve done something for over 10,000 hours, that qualifies you as a master of that skill. i think 12 years of receiving therapy qualifies. i think i’d make a good therapist. :)