I Think I'm Getting Worse

I use to think my teenage years were my hardest years for my mental health.

Indeed they were difficult but they were the priming years to my mid 20's Complex PTSD.

If you've read about some of my childhood trauma it hit me hard growing up in the strict religious environment that turned upside down; with all the judgement of faithful church going parents, without the actual church going parents. I was restricted from growing like I so deserved, confined from expressing myself to a room in the basement away from everyone else.

My adult life has been full of crippling mental illnesses. The things I use to love doing don't get done as often or at all these days. Logic tells me a lot of my peers I grew up with, don't do all the things they love either; time and money are a huge thing for us millennials. As of this month I've been approved for disability. I have a decent amount of "free" time, even if a good portion of it I'm stuck in my head, attending 2X weekly therapy and case management. I'm feeling disappointed in myself, while trying to figure out what to do now.

I still feel the need to rush through everything. I even rush others. Telling them I'm "almost done" even when they haven't asked if I'm ready. My boyfriend has kindly noticed and said "Kirsten, you don't need to tell me you're almost done, I'm not in any hurry, take however long you need." It felt weird to hear that, because I have been conditioned to act otherwise. My anxiety of always needing to be on time, on time being 15 mins early, has improved.

While I can admit I am aware of the growth I have made, many things make me question just how much progress I've made. Like how frequent my hospitalizations are. My most recent suicide attempt being just over 18 months ago, but I've have several hospitalizations since and I haven't returned to consistent work yet.

I've learned how to meditate, love myself, give proper self-care, say no to others and stick up for myself to medical professionals. I've seen patterns, journaled, done yoga and worked on my spirituality! (I left my church too) And I'm most creative when I'm in a mental funk, intense emotions do that to you- so its not ALL bad, just mostly,

And I hate saying the word but...BUT I still feel stuck. Ever since I've been 13 years old being introduced to the word "suicidal" by my first psychiatrist, I have daily/weekly suicidal thoughts. I even glorify it sometimes. Being dead just sounds so nice compared to my daily struggles. Those intrusive thoughts only stopped briefly for a few months in 2016.

I've analyzed those few months down to a T with my mental health team, to possibly replicate it. However, I wasn't doing anything special that I haven't been doing all along. Exercise, friends, employment, I wasn't even seeing a therapist or taking pysch meds then! Infact I had been off of them for three straight years. My brain just gave me an itty-bitty break. Life didn't feel real to me then, I was just enjoying it in awe.

I wrote a post on Facebook about it.

October 27th, 2016 I said: "Personal Post.....

I've had a somewhat saddening realization along my mental health recovery journey. Please read this with an open heart, as this is a new observation within myself.

The more healthy I become, I seem to have less empathy towards others' mental health trials.

This may be due to the fact I am not feeling the emotions as often or as intense as others are anymore. Part of me dislike this change. Part of me rejoices in having kept the depression/anxiety/suicidal thoughts/etc. away and weeps, as I realize I am a new person. A new Kirsten. And one day, possibly... may not struggle with mental heath at all!"

I actually believed for a brief moment I may not struggle forever. That hope has been long gone since. But back to the post...

"I recall being so upset when others didn't... COULDN'T feel my pain. I wanted them to understand and stop judging me. I've felt that way most of my life, it doesn't go away easily. This new emotion I am calling BLISS is healing my mind so quickly it's been making me emotional. It's making all I thought was ugly and wrong with me, beautiful. Mending the years of darkness almost as if they never existed."

Looking back, this might be called mania... *sighs*

"Saying goodbye to depression is uncanny. When you wake up daily, for so many years feeling unfulfilled, depressed, dis associative, numb, feeling all of the emotions, or non at all... Waking up happy and excited for life is totally bizarre. I was like, "This is different." I didn't know what to do with myself. I'm not sure I will ever get tired of it!

[This is the part where the old me would tell whatever positive person making this post to go "piss off". Because I didn't need their pep talk, and they do not truly understand. ]"

^current me.

"But, I do! And it's weird. I never thought this day would come. I guess part of change is letting some of the old go. And accepting- I am free. For all those who are still in darkness, I am so, so sorry. I hope you find your way out. I'm here. Praying. My new battle is to learn about the new me, let go, love it, and share this feeling with as many as I can! I'm free! ^_^"

And I really did feel I was free. And I don't even know why. It makes me so damn sad that my life has been tortured for years to have only a sliver of happiness/productivity; which might have just been another symptom of my illnesses- mania. Who knows? I have no explanation for any of this.

That post got 76 likes, and about a dozen comments of happiness, thanking me for my honesty. One comment asked what helped make this change occur. I talked about being off pysch meds, exercise, diet, essential oils, my church community, and also the unknown, but enjoying it anyways. I'm glad I was able to enjoy the brief vacation my body was giving me from my strenuous mental health symptoms.

And holy fuck did I not realize how short that time would be.

I even started a closed, private group called Within Your Reach with that new found joy, because I believed mental healthiness was "with in your reach". I posted relatable quotes, and went live with updates of my own journey, which eventually lead to more med management and psychotherapy. I then ended the group shortly after my most recent suicide attempt in 2018. I didn't feel adequate to give advice or help anymore. My safe place is now just an online documented diary of my mental health during those years.

So what has gotten worse if everything has pretty much been the same with only fleeting productivity? Recently, my symptoms are... changing. I was diagnosed with depression as a pre-teen. Borderline Personality Disorder and Bipolar-depression at 19. Then anxiety. And now it's shifting to Complex PTSD.

"Mood swings" are and were just constant panic attacks. Night terrors/bad dreams, bed wetting, flash backs to sexual assaults and childhood memories, and hearing my dad scream my name, when he isn't home. Most of these symptoms only appeared in the past 6-18 months, after my most recent suicide attempt in Jan 2018. That's right, your 26 year old blogger wets the bed.

Woo. Party over here.

But fear not. Sleep has still been terrible as well as daily crying spells, periodic hair loss, appetite swings from binge eating to starving myself, weight gain, fatigue, as well as many other symptoms. You can see how easy it is to misdiagnose with multiple symptoms. Some possibly being un-diagnosed physical issues and not mental health related.

I can sit here and tell you all the things I do well and have learned over the years. Most of my progress has been learned coping skills just to function on a day-to-day basis. Like how often I write lists to keep focused, on task and get through brain fog days. I sometimes write as many as six lists or reminders a day. More if I'm higher functioning. But I hope you can see through my writing that because I am so hyper-aware of these symptoms, it has made the things I have overcome in my life that much harder. Including things like: homelessness, relationships with people, and holding a job. I'd like to say I'm proud of the me I am today, in many ways I am. But I wish that my efforts had a higher impact on my mental health and life productivity.

I don't drink, I don't use drugs, I go to therapy, I'm not intentionally trying to fuck up my life. I do the things! And up until my most recent suicide attempt, I haven't broken the law. And voila, I'm a felon for fleeing and evading the police trying to kill myself while driving my car into a tree in the median of the interstate at 75 mph.

Trust me, I don't know how I got here either.

So now what? A new therapist is enroute. New treatment plan. New goals. What's that phrase? "Same shit, different day." Maybe this time my mental health team and I can get it right. But that's just yet another symptom: hopelessness.

Special thanks to my editor: MC_hammer