Anxiety

Today I had a meeting with my thesis supervisor that I didn't end up going to.

I walked up to his office to go talk to him, and two other people were in his office. I panicked. I was too anxious to knock on his door knowing I was interrupting something so I left the building and went to work at my boyfriend's.

I know I should have knocked. He told me to go in and see him which meant he was expecting me. He was okay with my coming in. But my anxiety just couldn't handle it. It was all too much.

Otherwise, today was a really good day. It started off rough - I needed an extra nap and group challenged me to think about where I'm at with my hospitalization and school. But it started looking up.

I had a productive appointment with my doctor. He said I should try to find something to do that I'm not competitive about. Even with writing, I'm always looking at how many blog views I have, or how many people watch my poetry on YouTube. With gymnastics, I'm always focused on the upcoming competition. With school, the focus is on grades. I can't seem to stop comparing myself from others.

I'm thinking of making coloring my thing. Coloring isn't competitive. You just color. It's a good mindful activity as well. I wish Netflix watching could be my thing. But apparently that doesn't count.

Breakdown

I had a day pass with my mom yesterday. She was kind enough to drive the three and a half hours from her place to mine in order to come visit me.

It was lovely. We did some work at my favorite Starbucks (the one in the book store) and went to see a movie. We saw hidden figures which was absolutely amazing, I highly recommend it, especially if you're interested in physics/math/engineering. We then stopped at my house so I could pet my cat and pack up some food to bring to the hospital.

I had a breakdown coming back from the hospital. I asked my mom if she could let me die. I told her that everything was just too difficult and that I couldn't handle it. We cried and hugged and she told me how much she loves me and how she doesn't want to see me go. I really didn't want to go back to the hospital. I was given a glimpse at real life again and then had to let it go. I hate being here. I hate that I'm not safe enough to not be here. I hate that I'm depressed, anxious, borderline and bulimic. I hate that I was dealt these cards. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I just want to go home and play with my cat and do math at my desk and go to classes and go to gymnastics and have a life. I don't have one right now.

Best of 2016

2016 has been a shit year for many, including myself. But great writing tends to emerge during difficult times. Here are what I consider to be my top 15 pieces from 2016.

15. reflections from the hospital


14. Days Weeks Months Years


13. Why they need to get rid of atypical anorexia


12. To the girl who thinks she's smarter than this


11. #eatittobeatit


10. This one's for the girl


9. My depression is ugly


8. Faking perfection


7. Thinspo: video (no images, don't worry)


6. How to help a suicidal friend


5. Orthorexia


4. 7 things I want you to know as you're staring into the toilet bowl


3. A week with borderline personality disorder


2. Counting down (link to buy my poetry book, one of my greatest accomplishments so far)


1. Cat pictures (because my cat is the best thing that has happened to me this year)

stigma

I've been asked why all my poetry is about mental health.

I write about mental illness because it has almost killed me.
I write about mental illness because it might still kill me.
I write about mental illness for those who can't.
But most of all, I write about mental illness because of the stigma.

Don't try to tell me that the stigma is gone. Don't tell me the stigma is gone when my prof rolled his eyes when I told him that I couldn't finish my assignment on time because of a major depressive episode. Don't tell me the stigma is gone when the crisis worker I was talking to shuffled backwards when I mentioned my borderline personality disorder. Don't tell me the stigma is gone when my old housemate told me I couldn't be anorexic because I have meat on my bones. Don't tell me the stigma is gone when my academic adviser told me that university is supposed to be stressful and I just need to get over my anxiety.

It's the stigma that causes so many to not seek help. People are dying from illnesses that can be managed with ongoing treatment because they're too embarrassed to seek help. People are dying from illnesses that can be managed with ongoing treatment because they can't afford the treatment. My provincial insurance covers medical doctors but not therapists. Try telling me the stigma is gone when treatment for cancer is covered but treatment for depression isn't.

The only time my therapy was covered by provincial insurance was when I was in a locked ward. Think about that for a second. My therapy was only covered when I was locked away from society. As if they only wanted to help me when I couldn't run wild. Tell me again that the stigma is gone, when it assumed that humans with mental illnesses are a danger to society when the statistics show that someone who suffers from mental illness is more likely to be a victim of a violent crime then to be the perpetrator.

When considering taking time off of school to go to treatment, my social worker asked me if I would take time off school if I had cancer.
Of course, I replied.
Then why are you treating this any differently?
Because I'm scared of what grad schools will think if I take time off for mental illness.

Tell me again that the stigma is gone.
I dare you.

Psychiatry appointment

I had an appointment with my psychiatrist today and it went extremely well!

She congratulated me on not binging and purging since Monday (I'm on day three!!), as well as not engaging in other behaviours such as cutting.

I really am getting better, I'm on an upward slope right now.

We discussed how I really have to be careful about taking my meds at the same time every day. Two days ago I took my meds in the afternoon instead of the morning and I felt really low and my urges were high yesterday. I managed to fight through though, which means that non only are my meds working better, my coping strategies have improved a lot.

I'm struggling with flashbacks of my mom getting very angry as well as my stepmom being in the hospital. I'm having a really hard time dealing with those, but I've been using my ativan and thought records ground myself. Since it's reading week I've also been taking a lot of naps to ignore life, which is one thing I'll need to stop doing come next week.

You can't pour from an empty cup

It's hard to remember this sometimes.
The past few days have been tough. My best friend attempted suicide again. She told me shortly afyer her overdose and we went to the hospital and she's medically stable. She's going to be okay.

I have no doubt in her ability to fight these demons as she's one of the strongest women I know. But she doesnt know that right now.

Im doing my best to be a good support. But my past trauma with hospitals has been brought up in therapy recently and so flashbacks have been strong. She's still hooked up to machines and getting fluids so that repetitive beeping sound is loud when I visit her. I want to be there, to stay with her, but I get flashbacks so damn quickly and can't function myself.

I know I need to distance myself from the hospital for a bit. And my friend will be home today. But it makes me feel like an awful friend not being able to be there with her.  I'm on my way to see her and drop off some stuff for her. I'm going to have to be assertive and tell her I need to go home, but it's such a hard thing to do. I'm no use to her though if mg flashbacks send me spiraling back into a pit of darkness.

World mental health day Facebook post

Today is #worldmentalhealthawarenessday

Mental illnesses are life threatening conditions that have caused me  and many others several hospitalizations, treatment programs and medications. What's even worse is that many individuals don't have access to treatment because of the stigma or lack of finances.

I'd like to take this opportunity to talk about medication. Below is a picture of the medication I have to take daily for my mental illness. Yes it's a lot. No it's not big pharma trying to take advantage of me. Finding the right medication has changed my life and this drug cocktail is what's keeping me alive.
I've seen many people talk about how exercise, healthy eating and all sorts of other things are natural anti-depressants. And this can be true to some extent. But when there is a chemical imbalance in your brain, you need medication that will help fix that imbalance.

I'd like to thank everyone who's stuck by me over the past three years of hospitalizations, relapses, ups and downs. It hasn't been an easy three years, but I'm glad I'm still here to talk about it. I personally suffer from borderline personality disorder, bulimia, depression and anxiety. If you have an questions about any of these illnesses or my experience with them please ask.

Are relationships worth it?

I have a hard time with relationships, BPD can do that to you. It's hard to trust that someone loves you when all you've known is loved ones leaving.

I'm scared. I've been anxious lately and my boyfriend and I seem less connected then before. He got some bad news, and since then I just feel a disconnect. Like this disappointment has caused us to drift apart. I know he tends to isolate when the going gets tough, but I can't help but think that it's because he doesn't trust me to be supportive.

Sometimes I wonder if relationships are worth it. If I was single I wouldn't have these worries that my partner was going to leave me. I wouldn't be worried about being left alone. I wouldn't have this sinking feeling in my heart when he says he can't come over. Maybe if I was single all of this stress would go away.

But, I love him. I really do. And leaving him because of the way he copes would be ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with our relationship when I look at the facts. But why do I still have this sinking feeling in my heart?

Firing my therapist

I've had a few issues with my therapist lately.

Between my discharge from hospital and trip to British Columbia I had a very important one hour session booked. She rescheduled it to a different day, but didn't tell me that it was a half hour session instead of an hour. Not only that, but we got into a fight about my whether or not I should keep my job as well as my course of treatment. It wasn't just a conversation; it got hostile.

Since then, she's cancelled on me twice and could only rebook me on September 30th.

Over the summer, when I was paying her privately, she could get me in in a heartbeat. Now that I'm not paying her privately (as my therapy is with the school) she can't fit me in for weeks? I was in the hospital a month ago. You'd think she'd care.

So she's getting fired. I don't know how to go about telling her though. Should i send her an email or just never contact her again?

I'm debating what to do next with regards to therapy. I'm thinking of taking a little tine off, and then seeing either a CBT therapist or an eating disorder therapist.

Lots of things to think about.

Future stress

I don't feel like I'm moving along in time. I dont feel like I'm going forward and living life as time goes by. I feel like time is bombarding me. Like I'm standing still and time is rushing at me like a wave trying to push me over and drag me across the ocean floor. I'm doing everything I can do not to drown, but my color coded calendar doesn't help much when water damaged.

Is this recovery?

I seem to be heading back to where I was three years ago. Managing an eating disorder driven by anxiety, but fully functioning and very few suicidal thoughts. In terms of my BPD, I still have abandonment issues but I no longer feel the need to engage in extreme behaviors around real or perceived abandonment. I hate to admit it, but a lot of this comes from practicing radical acceptance.
In terms of my depression, I have felt so much better since my meds got adjusted. I feel excited and I also feel low, but I don't feel impulsive when I feel low, so I'm in quite a safer place. My low moods are also a lot less low than they used to be. If there was a scale, where 0 was the worst depression, and 20 was the best mood (and 10 was neutral), I used to bounce between 0 and 20 with no room in the middle. I know feel like on an average day I hover between an 8 and a 12, and on mad days I go from 4 to 16. This is a lot of improvement. I've found a middle ground. I've also learned how relationships should work. I've been with Kyle for over a year and he's incredibly supportive, and I support him when he needs it. Over the summer I needed more support than I was giving, but now that I'm doing better, he's opening a bit more and I'm able to give him more support. I'm still struggling a lot with some family issues, and maybe I should try some radical acceptance worksheets to help with this. But overall, I'm extremely proud of myself.

If I keep this up, I might get through the year positively, learn a lot, and not let my grades suffer. I will become diagnostically clear of BPD, and depression. Of course, I'll need to stay on the meds I'm on for quite some time (maybe forever) and I have no problem with that. If medication is what I need to feel a normal spectrum of emotions, motivate me to do the things I love, and make sure I don't ever hallucinate again, I'm quite happy to continue using them. I take a lot of medication. Then again, I'm very sick, and this amount of medication is what works for me. You wouldn't tell a diabetic to stop taking their insulin once the insulin starts working and they are managing, so don't tell me to stop taking my psych meds if my psych meds are working.

I'm very confident that I won't be overdosing any time soon. I feel comfortable having more meds around the house, and no longer feel the urge to swallow the bottle. I can't wait to get back into the gym and I can't do that if I land myself in hospital again. I can't get to the level I want to get to in gymnastics if I keep overdosing and harming my body in other ways.

I do need to find a balance with my anxiety, bulimia and school work. I've started making meal plans, and I promise I'm trying my best to follow them, but I still get urges to binge and purge (for emotional reasons, after a stressful conversation or triggering event). Last night after a 2am binge, I didn't vomit and I can't seem to allow myself to eat food now. I get home at 8:30 and that will be 18 hours since I've last eaten, and I know I can't allow myself to do this. I plan on having two apples, two bananas and a bowl of oatmeal to make up for it. It will still be low but it will be enough to have a good sleep, and start again with my food plan tomorrow. It's all about trying every single day.

So I know I'm getting better, especially with the DBT and depression aspects. But my anxiety and eating disorder are still very loud. And the strange thing is... I'm okay with that. The anxiety gets me good grades as I over study. The eating disorder gives me control when it doesn't get out of hand.

So is this really recovery?

Leaving on a jet plane

I got discharged from the hospital on Thursday, and two days later I'm flying to Vancouver for a Women in Math conference/summer school. I'm definitely on edge, having felt good and safe for less than a week, I'm definitely worried that old thoughts will creep back in.

But I have a safety plan. I will be okay. I will take my meds properly and immerse myself in the beauty of the west coast and of mathematics. I will network and make great connections.

Why am I so anxious?

I'm worried I won't understand the topics being presented. The topics being covered aren't in my area of mathematics, so I'm worried that I'm going to be behind compared to everyone else.

I'm worried of what will happen if I have a depressive or anxious episode while away from all my regular supports.

I'm worried that I'll get bad again. I haven't been good for very long. And I'm scared that if I get bad, I won't make it back home.

I know I can do it though. I know I have it in me to stay safe and get through this. I know that I will figure out the math, and that the beauty of the beach will give me a reason to live.

All these worries have already caused me to binge and purge (on super expensive airport food). I can't keep that up on my trip. Hopefully this will have been my last binge and purge for the next couple weeks.

This late at night, I'm just tired. I know once morning comes and I'm bright eyed and busy tailed a lot of these worries will disappear. My flight leaves in 45 minutes, and then I'll be able to get some good sleep. Until then, a diet coke will have to do.

What I want

Over my stay here at the hospital, I've figured out a lot of things that I don't want in my life. Today I refocused those thoughts. Knowing what you don't want is good, but it leaves a lot in the open. Knowing what you want is more important, it can guide you, help you set goals and lead you in a positive direction. I did some pretty intense journalling today. Here is an excerpt


I don't want to be this way when I'm thirty. I don't want to have to put my life on hold to be in the hospital. I don't want to constantly worry my friends and family. I don't want to define myself by my illnesses. I don't want to miss out because I'm scared of calories. I don't want to have three wardrobes because of weight fluctuations.

I want to have Ph.D. when I'm thirty. I want to be learning and advancing my career. I want my friends and family to have a stable relationship with me. I want to define myself by my career and interests. I want to have fun and experience life, including food. I want to maintain a weight I feel good at though balanced eating and exercise.

Weekend pass

I got a pass for the weekend,
36 hours of freedom
On my own in the real world
With all the terrors of life
I wish I could say that I was happy
To be out of the hospital for the weekend
But in reality I'm scared
I've been eyeing the razors
On the shelf in my bathroom
And the bottle of pills sitting
At the edge of my desk
I know that hurting myself won't solve anything
But pain keeps me alive

I talked to my therapist yesterday
And we were talking about how
It's true that pain is what
Keeps us all alive
And that's why cutting
And starving and purging works
She said something that surprised me
That she knows all to well
How cutting works
Because she has scars of her own
It made things me feel more comfortable
Talking and being open to her
I've been seeing my therapist for
Three years now and I know
That she had mental health issues
Of her own when she was younger
But something about her making things
As explicit as she did
Really helped me believe
That maybe I can get better

I'm still struggling though
To see the point of it all
The big picture makes everything
Seem so pointless to me
So I'm on my own this weekend
Sitting on my bed which is much more
Welcoming then the stiff hospital mattress
Trying to enjoy the little things
Because the big picture is too
Scary and daunting to me
I'm trying to distract myself
Painting my nails and dying my hair
Alternating between watching the Olympics
And binge watching shows on Netflix

I can't say I've been all good so far
I've already binged and purged
On bread and sweets and some of
My roommates food
But I'm determined to keep myself
Safe tonight and okay tonight
I want to be okay because if I'm not
I can't go on vacation next week
And I really really want to go

High functioning

They say I'm high functioning.
I have enough diagnosis
To fill up one hand
But it's all hidden under
This marvelous mask

They say I'm high functioning.
I go to school, I work
I even live hours away from family
I do chores, I pay bills
But I till cry myself to sleep at night

The problem with being high functioning is that they don't notice when things go wrong. It took so long for me to find help because no lne believed I was as sick as I was. And by the time I got help, it was too late. I was slicing my body open and popping pills every night.

Perseverance

I've gotten shot down time and time again. I'm one of those 'hopeless' cases no one wants to help. I guess when your still suicidal after four hospitalizations and the max amount of anti depressants they can give you, doctors no longer know what to do. 

In some ways, I've had an extremely lucky upbringing. Supportive parents, great friends, wonderful teammates, and big goals. But no matter how lucky you are, life always gets in the way. It started with my parents divorce, followed by rejection, loss and despair. 

Between this rocky, although happy, upbringing, and losing the genetic lottery, the depression, anxiety, bulimia, and borderline personality were in full swing by the time I was 17. 

I'm what they call a high-functioning mentally ill patient. But under that high-functioning mask, is a lost girl who wakes up at 5 every morning because it takes an hour to will herself out of bed. A girl who spends hours staring at herself in the mirror and hunching over a toilet bowl swearing to herself that she won't ever eat again. A girl who thinks of blades, and ropes, and bridges and pills. 

I'm a therapists worst nightmare. Smart enough to know all the tricks up their sleeves, but not smart enough to listen. Smart enough to be self aware of everything I'm doing but not smart enough to stop. Every time I start thinking I could live a life without my illnesses I come crashing down, fully relapsing into the self harm, purging and other destructive behaviors. Every time I think I'll never slice my skin open or stick my fingers down my throat every again, I end up losing it all, setting my days clean count back to zero.

Every time I think I can break loose and start to walk away, something about this demon pulls me back to the start. I'm like one of those monkeys in a monkey trap. Forever stuck because I won't let go of that stupid banana. 

Don't you dare say I'm not trying

I spend most nights crying, counting my pills until I fall asleep wondering if I have the tools to kill myself without leaving my bed. 

But I wake every God damn morning and eat breakfast. 

Questions questions questions

... I know I'm going to have to answer all of these the second I see my parents:

• How is school?
• How is treatment?
• How is recovery? 
• How much are you purging? 
• How much are you restricting? 
• Why do you care so much about your weight? 
• Why do you care so much about your grades?
• What are your grades like?
• How did exams go?
• How was the semester?
• Did you get to know any of your profs?
• Why did you spend so much money? 
• Why is there an ambulance charge on your credit card? 
• Can't you see how much your hurting us? 
• Does your eyeliner have some sort of deep meaning? 
• Why don't you want to talk to us? 
• Why don't you want to play with your siblings?
• Why don't you want to go see your highschool friends? 
• Did you lose weight? 
• Did you gain weight? 
• Do you know how much we love you?
• Are you still trying to lose weight? 
• Are you going to get a scholorship? 
• How much are your books going to cost next year?
• What are your new years resolutions? 
• Do you still like your therapist?
• Why aren't you ding treatment at the hospital?
• Why don't you want to stay longer? 
• What meds are you on now?
• Why do you need blood work done so often? 
• Is it safe for you to have meds in your room? 
• Why are you taking so many vitamins? 
• Is that enough food for breakfast/lunch/dinner?
• Isn't that a lot of food?
• Are you going to purge that? 
• Where did all our alcohol go? 

-Niqi

xoxo

I'm ginormous

I'm ginormous.
A big piece of lard.
Expanding every day at an exponential speed.
I lose a pound yet it looks like I gained 4.
So I lose some more. And more and more.
Until I eat the entire kitchen.
And then start again.
Oh joy.

-Niqi
xoxo

Fucking therapy

I love my therapist. 

Well I did.
I might hate her now. 

Yesterday, I was really proud of myself, told her how I was feeling and ended up in the ER for 'suicidal threats and behaviours'. They let me out. I emailed her to see if I could talk to her today specifically about ways I could lift my mood and strategies to get through the holidays. 

Did I get help and support? 

No. 

I got a fucking lecture. 

I got told that I don't have my priorities right. Well too bad it's my life. 

I was accused of lying because my university timetable got changed. I don't control the fucking schedule.

Apparently I'm not committed enough to recovery. Well I'm 18, live alone and choosing to see you every other week, so I'm pretty damn sure that I'm trying. 

I really want to cancel my appointments in January. 

I don't want to go back. 

More triggered then ever. Every time she tells me I can't do something, I want to spit in her face and say watch me. 

So watch me she will. 

I will be skinny, smart, successful and powerful. She did do one thing right. I have motivation to live again because I need to prove her wrong. 

-Niqi

xoxo 

Pre exams

Exam one is today. In one hour and 50 minutes. Honestly, I feel okay. I'm starting with the easy one. How bad can it be? We get two hours to answer 60multiple choice. Our midterm was 30 multiple choice and I finished in 15 minutes.
Deep breaths Niqi. Its going to be okay. Breathe in, breathe out. I made the smart decision of taking our my anxiety at the gym this morning. Start burning off the remaining 4.2lbs of the 5 I gained over the past week. God I hate my body right now.

Anyways, I'm actually writing this while on a stationary bike. I hate writing exams not in the morning. 90% of the time my good mood only lasts in the morning. I'm in a good mood now, but who knows if it will last through the exam.... Stupid BPD. The worst is not knowing how you're going TP feel. I feel great now, which means I could also feel great tonight or I could trip over a rock and become suicidal. So please good mood.. Last until 2:30pm. That's all I need from you. I'm pumping you with endorphins, I'll hydrate you and I'm even going to feed you (!!). Just continue feeling good until after my exam!

-Niqi
xoxo