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In college, I went through one of the most agonizing experiences a person, especially one with borderline personality disorder (BPD), can go through: large-scale abandonment.
I was diagnosed with depression the summer after my freshman year, and returned to the university on psychiatric medication. People at my church suggested I get counseling through the church. After two sessions, the director of the church's counseling center told me not to come back until I dealt with all of my anger.
Psychologists, therapists and counselors can help you treat anxiety but finding one may not seem like the easiest task.
If you're looking for an anxiety therapist, you're probably wondering how on Earth you're meant to do something like that. It's a big step, and if anything's going to make someone with an anxiety disorder anxious, this is it.
First, asking for help isn't a sign that you're weak, or that you can't help yourself.
Anxiety self help is about
The following was posted on my personal blog on April 30, 2008:
I had a dream last night--I was in the kiddie psych ward, down at the end of the unit where the vinyl-covered chairs are, next to the locked closet full of bad toys and puzzles with half their pieces missing. I was waiting for Bob. And here he came, in Spongebob pajamas, walking--not running, skipping, or galloping, as he usually does--toward me. Big smile on his face. Big, happy greeting of "Hi, Mom!" right before he threw his arms around me and crushed his little self into me in a hello hug.
My friend Dana recently moved to a new city and has searched fruitlessly for a therapist for months. Finding quality treatment for dissociative identity disorder (DID) is often one of the most frustrating challenges of living with DID. Despite the fascination it holds for many people, DID isn't widely understood, even among mental health professionals. Like so many others, Dana is in a position where she may have to choose between an inexperienced therapist and no therapist at all.
"I felt like I must not love my children enough, otherwise I would be happy to be around them," says Sue Robinson, a California pastry chef turned stay-at-home mom of two kids. Author of the blog Motherhood and Me, Sue is in treatment for postpartum depression (Editor's Note: Website "Motherhood and me" is under new ownership.)
Do you sometimes (often?) feel directionless? I do, and it's hard; I reckon it's a tricky one for folks with anxiety issues in general, particularly survivors of trauma with posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
There are exactly two settings on my dial: blow your mind and blow your brains out. I’m bipolar. We’re like that.
Not surprisingly, the sex mostly happens on the blow your mind setting.
There's a disturbing trend in some Dissociative Identity Disorder support communities that has always turned me off. I call it the My Trauma Is Worse Than Your Trauma game. What starts as fellowship and camaraderie periodically deteriorates into an ugly rivalry among survivors of abuse. It's a competition that feeds off of and perpetuates the minimizing effects of child abuse.
You've struggled through Parts 1 and 2 of the Homework Drama. Now you're wondering--is this just an ongoing saga? Will I be fighting this battle for the rest of my child's educational life? Does it ever end?
Good news--it just might.
You make a mistake, say sorry, then move on, right? Wrong. Sometimes ‘I’m sorry’ is not enough. Forgiveness is most difficult when damage is done and it’s even more difficult when the apology is insincere or half-hearted. Sorry, not sorry is very easy to hear when someone says he's sorry and doesn't mean it.
I read this book many years ago, just as I was entering the turmoil of remembering, questioning and doubting myself all the way (as I'd been covertly taught over a lifetime). I happened to mention to my two sisters one day, "This is so strange but I've been diagnosed with PTSD." Both my sisters surprised me by responding, "Me too."
THEN I happened upon an old book manuscript that my now deceased father had written (not published), wherein the protagonist was obviously based upon himself and he rapes his "fiancee," who had my unusual name. Yes, truly.
Then I made myself look at the peculiar memory I always had where he violently threatened me but somehow I had never been able to recall what came before or after the episode. I had to admit that was a bit strange.
The pressures and powers to forget sexual abuse are great, both in family and society. In fact, I've come to the sad conclusion that the vast majority of survivors never really deal with their childhood wounds (a neglect for which there are always repercussions).
To critique an encouragement of people trusting their intuition in such matters is really getting the prescription dangerously wrong.
Thanks!