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I'm thoroughly exhausted by the effort I expend to shield others from Dissociative Identity Disorder. I'm worn out on cleaning up the messes that inevitably occur when all that effort just isn't enough. I don't want to apologize for those messes anymore just now. I don't want to explain. I don't want to make speeches about personal responsibility and how I won't blame Dissociative Identity Disorder for problems directly related to - surprise! - Dissociative Identity Disorder. There are only so many guilty verdicts I can receive before I start to feel a little worthless. And I can only try so hard to protect the people around me from DID before I'm depleted.
Many of us with a mental illness have tried to “power through” it. We have tried to muscle through the pain without getting help of any kind. Most of us don’t want to admit we need help. Most of us don’t even want to admit we’re sick. We think that we’ll be fine without doctors and therapists and pills. We think that they are the enemy. We think we’re better off without them. We are so ridiculously wrong.
"Nobody wants to touch that," says More Than Borderline blog author Becky Oberg about the difficulty of finding treatment for Borderline Personality Disorder. The borderline stigma overshadows the real human beings that live with BPD and obscures their genuine suffering. Still, Becky encourages those with Borderline Personality Disorder, "Don't give up."
As a 45-year-old woman struggling to recover from anorexia, I often wonder if this is going to be part of my life forever. Will I be like the 76-year-old client of my psychiatrist, hands gripping her walker as she gingerly takes each step forward up to the front window, looking as if a slight wind would blow her over and the common flu would kill her? I try hard to believe she is not my future, and I want to stress that she doesn't have to be your future. Recovery from eating disorders is possible at any age.
We all need sleep, but for many of us, particularly those living with anxiety, it's difficult to find. What with the pressures of time, work, family, studies, constant stimulation and lots of towns and cities that never really shut down. Let alone take a siesta. What's getting in the way of your getting a good night's sleep and beating anxiety? Take a look at these 4 important areas of a good sleep lifestyle.
If I'd kept quiet about my brush with hospitalization a couple of weeks ago, my doctor would have been the only person who knew anything was seriously wrong. I missed a blog post the following Monday, but easily could have feigned some other, less embarrassing emergency. We were in the midst of moving and still managed, with a great deal of help that would have been necessary either way, to get the old place emptied and the new one full. Even my family didn't realize the jeopardy I was in. How is it possible to be desperately unwell and no one know? Dissociative Identity Disorder makes passing as normal not only possible for me, but nearly unavoidable.
I get all manner of comments here and many of them scrape against my bones. Because I know these people. Because I know their brains. Because I am these people. Sometimes people think because I write or advocate or win awards I am not them, but it is precisely because I am them that I can do these things. It is precisely because I feel their desperation that I can truly write about it. One does write what they know, after all.
It's a common misconception among the "normal"--any time a child with a psychiatric illness demonstrates an undesirable behavior, it's surely connected to his diagnosis. Little do they know, mentally ill kids are, at the end of the day...kids.
"Who are you and why are you doing this to me?" Those are the words Sandra Yuen MacKay wrote in block letters across her family's porch when she was 15 years old. She knew someone was spying on her; she could hear voices outside her house, talking about her and commenting on what she was doing.
There are so many morsels of bad relationship advice floating around that I thought it best to address some of the most common relationship myths. People have the tendency to dish out love advice like yesterday’s leftover goulash—it’s well-intentioned, but nobody really wants it. Bridal showers and bachelor parties are breeding grounds for ill advice. Here are a few of my favorites that I’ve heard.

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Comments

Christina
I hear your voices. Can you please help me let me know what medication you’re on. You could save lives with this information. My email is christinacrawford555@hotmail.com
Thanks!
R
I just relapsed on my chest after a year :/
J
This is me exactly. I've been working on my mental health for years and I still can't get ANYTHING right so I've come to the conclusion today that the only choice left is to give up. I QUIT!!!
Nowell
I was sicker than I'd ever been. Debating on going into the hospital. I wanted to find him. He was somewhere in the house, but I was to sick to look for him. I wanted a simple hug. I was relieved when I saw him passing me . I was about to ask him for that hug. I'd been sick for way to long. Six weeks. I just wasn't healing. He looked at me and said, " your such a piece of sh*t. Can't you even heal?" The next time I'm sick I may not pull through.
Amber T.
Slumber party! I am 14 and attended a slumber party last weekend with four other girls and the host girl who is a puberty bedwetter. She wears a thick cloth diaper and rubberpants to bed every night that are put on her by her mom.Later on on saturday night,her mom called all of us into her bedroom and told us that to level the playing field,that we all had to wear a diaper and rubberpants also.Sarah,the host girl,was put into her diaper and rubberpants first,then the rest of us were told to pick out a pair of her rubberpants from her drawer,then we each had to lay on Sarah's bed and her mom babypowdered us,pinned the diaper on us then put the rubberpants on us over the diaper.It was quite different having the diaper and rubberpants on under my nightgown! All six of us looked like babies with the diaper and rubberpants on under under our pjs and nightgowns! Sarah's mom was happy that all six of us were in the diapers and rubberpants and we got silly and acted like babies!