Sabotaged Life Lines

It's a long time since I did a 'this is what's happening/happened and this is how I feel' post, which is really the purpose of this blog. This blog exists so I can:

1. Protuctively let out my feelings rather than turning to self harm.

2. Process thoughts, reasons, and events.

3. Educate others to help end stigma faced by sufferers of mental illness.

4. Be myself without fear (hence the pseudonym).

In spite of good intentions, my last Zombie post (excluding the one related to the General Election) was way back in January (thereabouts). That's kinda what I want to talk about; why I haven't written anything and why this blog seemed to become a pointless endeavour after January. My reasons for not writing are as important as my reasons for writing, because they are the very reasons why more people need to write about their experiences. No one ever changed the world through silence and inaction.

Now, I want to make something clear; the feeling of pointlessness with regard to this blog did not come from my internal mental state. Many feelings of pointlessness do come from within, but this specific case came from external interactions with those who either had a duty of care towards me or who we relative strangers. These people, these carers workers and people I've only ever spoken to online (and live continents away from), seemed to make it their mission to sabotage my life lines. I don't know why the want to do that, but it's a type of behaviour faced by sufferers all over.

January started off quite positive. I saw a consultant, was given additional meds that helped me sleep, I was put on the waiting list for therapy, and was also promised another consultant appointment three months later. I managed to move past the fact I'd already been on waiting lists for help for the better part of a year and accept being put on yet another, and at least there seemed to be movement. I was still being seen by the Community Mental Health Team's 'Step Up' Team and I felt hopeful enough that my self-harming behaviour began to lessen in frequency. 

Then things fell apart.

First, Step Up insisted on pushing 'graded exposure' for my agoraphobia and social phobia. I said that I didn't want to do the graded exposure until I had done the stress tolerance stuff and therapy, because until then I wouldn't be equipt to deal with the stressful emotions triggered by graded exposure. It seemed pretty sensible to me to get help with emotional control before putting myself in a high stress situation. It seemed too much like setting myself up for failure to focus on graded expose when I knew I wasn't equipt to deal with it. It's not that I don't want to do graded exposure, just that I want to do things in a sensible order. 

Ha ha ha. How naive of me.

Step Up disagreed with my request to delay graded exposure and informed me that if I didn't show signs of improvement they'd discharge me for not engaging. 

I admit, at that point I got a little upset because I was engaging, I just wanted to do things in an effective order, rather than trying to stitch up the wound without first removing the  weapon responsible for the damage in the first place. Or, if you want another metaphor, I wanted to call the anaesthetist before handing the surgeon a scalpel. I got so upset, because I felt I was being threatened into compliance and made to feel like I wasn't trying to help myself that my mind told me it was all pointless. 

It told me there'd be no help.

It told me I couldn't trust the Community Mental Health Team.

It told me I wasn't worthy of help.

I wan't to emphasise that I did not shout or lose my temper. I was upset, yet, but despite the reputation of those with Borderline Personality Disorder, I tool a deep breath and told my 'care' worker that I was getting upset and we needed to drop the subject for the week. She continued to push, and push, until I broke down. Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised, that same woman dismissed the inappropriate touching I'd experienced from another child as a pre-teen as 'childhood experimentation' rather than listening to what I was saying about how it hadn't been what I wanted, how pressured I'd felt, and how the guilt had continued to affect md all my life. She dismissed, rather than addressed, so it shouldn't havd surprised me to learn she'd rather dismiss me than adress the root cause of my problems.

She left my house while I sat sobbing my heart out on my husband, begging for a knife, while vivid imagery of what I'd do with it played in my head. A woman who'd been assigned to me after Crisis Team discharge because I was still at risk walked out of my house after sending me into a spiral. She put me back where I'd been the night I was first put on the Crisis Team's caseload.0. She set me back by months. And she walked away.

Not a good thing to do to anyone with a mental illness, but add into the mix Borderline Personality Disorder, and you have a powder keg of self-hatred and devaluation.

At my next Step Up appointment, my assigned care worker brought her line manager with her, presumambly because of the tensions the week before. She didn't forewarn me that she would bringing anyone else, though. She could've phoned my husband in advance. Instead, she brought a stranger to my home with no prior warning, despite knowing I have social anxiety and take a long time to trust anyone. My needs became secondary to the needs of the person assigned (and theoretically trained) to help me.

At that point, when I discovered she'd brought her line manager, I felt like they were telling me I was the problem, without words. To me, my mental illness is the problem, one I need support to recover from through a care plan that takes into account my specific needs. 

That's important. All patients need to be seen as individual cases. When someone has chest pain, you work out whether its a heart problem, a lung problem, an irregularity or an jnfection, be it bacterial or viral. You don't give an  asthma inhaler to someone who need coronary bypass surgery. Care providers have to consider what a particular patient actually needs rather than pushing the treatment which is easiest from them to offer. A simple solution that only deals with external symptoms but not internal causes would've been pointless, but that seemed to be what 'graded exposure' would provide. Apparently the very people employed to help me  with that problem didn't want to provide a care plan to suit my needs though...

The pair once again went over how I either had to do graded exposure or there would be no point in remaining under their care.  It seemed to me that they we implying:

There was no point in someone coming around to talk to on a bad day. 

There was no point in support with mood diaries and activity/productivity. 

There was no point in building the trust with mental health services that might keep me alive. 

They said there was no point in continuing to be under their care, and with that they flipped my BPD switch from trying to engage to wanting the distance because I felt I could no longer trust them, a problem compounded by the lies my original care giver then gave in front of her boss.

The week previously, I'd shown her my mood diary, and she barely glanced at it. Shd didn't discuss any of the issues noted on it and offered no support. Then, once her boss was there, she announced that I wasn't engaging and I'd only filled in 'a couple of days'. At that point I got rather angry, so angry that rather than shouting, I tensed up and started shaking as I dug out the previous weeks mood diary sheets, barely able to speak. I also opened my mood diary app on the phone. I gave both to her and pointed out that I'd logged my mood religiously, every hour or two, for two/three weeks and reminded her that she'd seen the dated sheet the previous week so her claim that 'I'd only done a few days' was an outright lie. That cemented mistrust and ensured that when they again pressed to discharge me from their care I just said 'fine' because I wanted them out of my home, and out of my sanctuary.

They went, and the very next day I received a letter from them stating that I had chosen to end my involvement with them. Yup, they claimed I had chosen it, despite how obviously upset I'd been when the matter was first raised. I hadn't chosen. They had.

 In respose, I wrote a seven page complaint letter detailing everything that had happened and sent it to my consultant, who had wanted to leave me in Step Up's care. I pointed out that they had wanted to end their own involvement, and that what upset me initially was their threat of removing support I clearly needed. I had not chosen to be discharged, and to receive a letter saying I had added insult to injury, but it appears that my care doesn't matter.

To this day, I haven't received a response, and that was January.

Months later, when I didn't receive the promised follow up appointment with the consultant, my hubby contacted the Community Mental Health Team. It turned out the consultant had left and my letter had gone ignored, but the nurse I spoke to promised to chase it up and have someone contact me.

That never happened.

Roll on yet more months and several Crisis calls, and I've been advised to reprint and resend my complaint letter as no one knows what happened to it even though my hubby delivered it in person so we know it reached them. Problem is, I keep forgetting to do so. I'm also scared to do it, because I'm scared those people who are responsible for assisting me might take offence at my complaint and deny any further help. It's bad enough that, despite several Crisis calls on days when suicidal thoughts have become too much, I still only receive a call from a Community Mental Health nurse every four weeks, and not to help me or ask how things are. They phone every four weeks with the sole pupose of asking if I wish to remain on the waiting list for therapy. 

I don't even have a designated CPN. The nurse who last phoned me from the Community Mental Health Team said the list was getting shorter as people decided they no longer wanted to be on it, but I still have no idea when I'll get any help. That's right, the waiting list isn't going down because the service is efficiently seeing patients, it's relying on people dropping off and slipping through the cracks. Sometimes I wonder if they're hoping I'll slip through the cracks too.

Just like I did in 2012 when I had post natal depression and ran out of counselling sessions

Just like last year when my counsellor decided he couldn't help me before we ran out of my designated sessions*.

Just like I did at university when the counsellor went off of long term sick leave.

Just like I did at fourteen, when the system decided I didn't need help because I understood why I was self-harming.

Just like in 1997, when child services failed to pick up on the psychosomatic symptoms which we indicating a problem was beginning to develop.

I don't feel I have the support I need, and that feeling is so strong that asking for help now seems pointless. It took years for me to push for help, and now it seems a useless endeavour. 

I've stopped keeping a mood diary, because no one's looking at it to see how best to help me. I'm an author but I barely write because I don't have the drive. My self harm is increasing again, as are my feelings of worthlessness and periods of suicidal ideation. I had a shower today and brushed my teeth... for the first time in two weeks! 

The process stressed me out so much it's triggered my anxiety and I want to cancel the reason I showered. My mam and Uncle are coming over to watch Eurovision with me and hubby, but now I don't want them to because simply washing and dressing has left me fraught. And that, combined with my shame at going so long without taking care of myself, is setting off my depression. I need help. More help than pills alone. But I don't trust the services because the Community Mental Health Team sabotaged what should've been a life line.

What is the point in trying to stay afloat when no one is willing to help you fight against the riptide?

What's happened with the Step Up Team and consultant has fed into my lack of drive as far as this blog goes, but ontop of that a girl I've only ever spoken to online saw this blog and decided to go on the attack, telling me I'm self-centred and weak, whining rather than just dealing with my problems. She completely ignored that this blog was discussed with my Crisis workers before I started it because we thought it might be beneficial to me while I awaited other services. This blog exist so I can HELP MYSELF. 

This is me dealing with my problems. 

This is me saying x, y, and z happened, it affected me this way, now I understand it, I can try to find a way to move passed it in a healthy way. 

This is me saying 'I've hidden this all my life and hiding has made it worse, now I'm going to speak, for myself and for others. Hopefully someone else might see this and realise they're not alone'.

This is me saying it's #oktosay I'm not OK, and although that person's ignorant comments affected me and stopped me posting for five months, I have to do this, because if I don't, I'm letting ignorance and stigma prevail. 

I didn't train myself to face my enemies head on, without crying, even when they were intent on beating me up, just so I could fall at the words of an ignoramus on the other side of the planet. There are bigger challenges to overcome, and so I'm going to write. I'm going to draw. I'm going to share my story in the hope that one day there'll be a happy ending. Not a 'happily ever after', because no one is always happy, but I hope to reach a point when I can be at peace in my own head.

So I'll keep reminding myself it's #oktosay, because the only way to ensure that services are available, that care givers and governments are heald accountable, and that stigma is squashed, is to make sure plenty of voices are heard. 

Sometimes it feels like screaming into a void, like yelling for help in space where no one can hear me or see me in the darkness. The Community Mental Health Team don't seem to care as long as I don't kill myself and become a negative statistic for them. Cuts made by the Conservative government have ensured there isn't the number of NHS staff required to provide a better service. Because of austerity, it's harder to get the medical help needed to survive. 

I'm also in debt because I lost my job due to my illness, and after the stress of sorting out PIP the very idea of applying for ESA triggers anxiety, depression, and self harm. I'm at risk financially, because the government themselves are sabotaging life lines by making benefits unobtainable to the very people they are also denying treatment. Lack of money incresses stress, stress exaserbates my illness, my illness makes it hard to get an income. It's a cycle of despair that keeps dragging me back towards another suicide attempt. 

My life is at risk because these illnesses do kill.  But today I'm still here. I've been cast adrift, but I'm still alive, so hear me yell for a life line.

Pseudonymous Zombie

xxx

*Patients only get 6-12 sessions of counselling or CBT following a referral. How many other illnesses or conditions get a time limit? Been in a severe car accident? We can only operate on you for 6-12 hours. If you aren't stable after that, tough. In labour? If you don't push out your offspring within 6-12 hours, we aren't going to attend to you... Yeah. No. That doesn't happen.

The Untreated

When I saw a psychiatrist last week, he himself said I was 'more than severely depressed'. We discussed anxiety. Agoraphobia. Social phobia. Avoidant personality. I thought I was finally properly being diagnosed. Then I received his written report, which stated I have recurrent depressive disorder but "there was a report of self harm behaviour and anxious avoidant strategies, however there was not enough evidence to formulate a diagnosis of comorbid personality disorder". That diagnosis, or lack thereof, is disheartening.

And no, it's not that I want another disorder. It's that I believe there is more going on and I feel like that's being ignored. I constantly feel like I'm screaming, screaming for help as the darkness creeps around me and light recedes. Screaming, even though it's hard to speak, or even to breathe. People hear me but they turn away. They hear me, but they don't have time to help. That leaves me feeling hopeless.

I wanted my GP to check for other disorders months ago, but there just arent enough community psychiatrists to see me based on what I think are possible conditions. I wanted to discuss it with the CMHT nurse who initially assessed me, but again, discussing it is really a no go until I'm assigned my CPN and my treatment really starts. That's why I'm attempting to inform myself about the possibilities.

I know self-diagnosis is not advised, but after 22 years of asking for help it's inevitable that I've done my own reading, so I have ideas, but I'll discuss them after I've gone over a few other comments in the psychiatrist's report which left me feeling deflated.

"Crisis team to monitor for 7 to 10 days", I'm already on day 8 and I now feel I'm running out of time for help when I haven't yet been given my community psychiatric nurse. Will I be abandoned again in two days time? I know the Crisis Team is as its name suggests, it's for crisis not long term treatment, however, if they discharge me before other help is in place I know I'll end up back at crisis point. I've thought about it so many times this week. And I'm not sure how many times I can go through the cycle before I lose faith in there being help again. 

If I'm discharged from the crisis team before I have a CPN, I think I'll give up. I won't phone next time I feel like killing myself. What would be the point if the help I need never comes? That though leads to my next extract from the psychiatrists letter.

"No further medical input required". What does that mean? I need medical input. I need to know for sure if there is something else. I need the depression and anxiety to be treated so I remember how to live.

Last night I had a panic attack, when it east I ended up wandering the house looking for a way to kill myself as I no longer have access to car keys or pills. I had a plan to get an extension cable and hang myself from the banister. Matt had to phone the crisis team for me again. Talking to them helped, but it's a new method of coping. It's novel. Sooner or later I'll need more. 

What do I need to do to get continued help from people who'll listen to me? Do I have to make another suicide attempt? Because if it comes to that, it won't be an attempt. It won't be cry for help, it'll be a determined attempt to die. And that's the head space I was in last night.

Here's the thing... My brain tells me I should be dead all of the time, constantly, and I want it to stop. I would die just to make it, and my self-loathing and self-doubt, stop. That means I need help, right? But help is hard to get. I'm in a cycle and it feels like the only way to get off the ride is by dying.

That's everyday life for me, however, so lets ignore the nagging suicidal thoughts for a moment and focus on "not enough evidence to formulate a disagnosis of co-morbid personality disorders." That's what I want to discuss.
There is a disorder I suggested to my GP, Borderline Personality Disorder, although she didn't seem overly interested in investigating. Here's why I think it's worth taking a look at...

Borderline Personality Disorder (this list of indicative/diagnostic questions is from the NHS website):

- Do you have an intense fear of being left alone, which causes you to act in ways that, on reflection, seem out of the ordinary or extreme, such as constantly phoning somebody (but not including self-harming or suicidal behaviour)?

Yes, I do this. I'm terrified of being abandoned. There are days when I'm irrationally furious with my husband and I'll scream at bim to leave. Then stand in the door so he can't, because I'm afraid he won't come back. I'll promise friends more than I can manage because I'm afraid of losing them if I say I can only manage less.

I'm a self published author, but in the past year but at times I've barely written because I've been rewriting somone elses chapters for them because I felt obliged to keep her happy and keep her friendship. As it is, that friendhip has now ended so I'm no longer rewriting her book for her, but I did get drawn into that trap for the better part of a year.

Even two weeks ago, when we were barely speaking as I'd learned how manipulative the person was, she messaged asking me to read over a short story. She hadn't spoken to me in weeks but she wanted a favour. There was no 'hello, how are you doing', just 'can you read this and give me feedback?' I spent three or four hours going through that story for her. I rewrote example paragraphs and made detailed suggestions. Then she went back to barely speaking again. Because my fear of being hated is so great I'll do things I'm not really up to, until I'm at breaking point and become angry, and push people away.

I also feel obliged to answer messages even when I'm in a situation where my phone should be off because I fear people will come to hate me if I don't reply. That's so stressful that I can only interact with a few people at a time. I barely write now because I'm afraid that if I take time for myself and stop messaging my few friends, I'll lose them.

And if I try to get in touch with someone and get no answer? I panic and keep ringing. If i upset someone I keep messaging, trying to explain, even though the flood of messages often make things worse rather than better. Sometimes I must look crazy (by that I mean out of control). I certainly feel it.

- Do you have a pattern of intense and unstable relationships with other people that switch between thinking you love that person and they're wonderful to hating that person and thinking they're terrible?

Yes. Not my marriage. Well, I have days where I can be loving and then believing I hate my husband. We've been together for twelve years and there have been some pretty unstable periods when our 'issues' clash, but he loves me, and I love him. He's one of the few people who can make me laugh.

The real unstable relationships are with friends and other family members. The friends I have, I idolise, but psst experience tells me that I can go from idolising to hating very quickly. There are a few I hope this would never happen with, and I hope they forgive me if it does. I'm really trying not to be the sort of person I seem to be. As for family members...

I supposed I must have idolised my dad at some point. We had a complicated relationship and there were a lot of times I hated him. It took until the last year, when he was dying, to be able to say 'I love you' again and mean it. It was the last thing I said to him.

Whereas the last thing I said to my brother was the he was an arsehole. That was the day after dad died and I was struggling. My anger was rearing up to protect me from breaking down and when we fell out it exploded. I apologised, but he wouldn't accept an apology. He then went on to tell me I only self harm to hold man hostage, which isn't at all true as mam often doesnt know when I'm self harming. We fell out. I fell out with my other brother too.

I hate them both.

I did love both of them. Despite our competitive streaks I idolised the older of the two and I adored the youngest. But now I hate them both, and they might as well have evaporated. And I decided that in a moment. I spent a while being heartbroken over the falling out, then one night I thought 'no, I hate them. I don't care what happens to them now', and the switch was flicked.

That's an unhealthy skill I have, the ability to flick from love to hate, I guess I learned it during the times when my dad walked away and wouldn't speak to me for six months at a time. Or maybe I learned it when friends left me because, I assume, they were fightened of being targetted by the bullies who were targetting me. I don't know. I just know I can press that switch.


- Do you ever feel you don't have a strong sense of your own self and are unclear about your self-image?
Goodness yes. At almost 31 I still don't know what I want to be. The best option is an author because I enjoy writing and it allows me to explore different facets of my character, of experience, and even work out how to be a better person. But as far of myself goes... I switched university course three times because my goals kept changing. What I aspire to keeps changing. A lot of the time I just don't know what I want.

- Do you engage in impulsive activities in two areas that are potentially damaging, such as unsafe sex, drug abuse or reckless spending (but not including self-harming or suicidal behaviour)?
I do spend recklessly. My husband is terrible with fiances so I have to control them, but that involves a battle with myself because I do impulse by a lot. Even when I 'plan' a big purchase, our version of planning is to discuss it without making plans other than 'we'll save up', and then one day I'll be in need of a pick-me-up and I'll say 'fuck it, lets get that'.

I also binge eat. My depression currently means I don't really have an appetite driving me to eat. I eat because my husband makes food. However, I do have a habit of going through stages when I'll go through every sweet thing in the house. My brother has shown his disgust before because I ate a whole Golden Syrup cake for breakfast. I can do that. Eat a whole cake. A family size bar of chocolate. A box of donuts. It's not a daily thing, but I go through periods of binge eating. I just don't admit it because I'm ashamed of it. I know it's tied up with my mental illness but I'm ashamed of it.

That comes back to stigma, though, doesn't it. There's a lot of media coverage on anorexia and bulimia, on how the media encourage those conditions and how people suffering symptoms of those conditions need help. But if the media shows an overweight person devour a whole cake, scorn follows. They're seen as greedy pigs. As a strain on the NHS. As people who don't deserve help because they're causing their own suffering. No one ever says 'this person has a mental illness and they need help'.

So I don't admit my dark, disgusting secrets about refusing dinner but then hiding alone eating a full family size packet of marshmallows. That's just stupid and disgusting, right? More so than vomitting after meals, which is part of an illness.

The media still sees eating disorders as starving because of distorted self-image or mental illness. They don't show that over-eating or over-eating junk food is also a reaction to distorted self image and mental health conditions. The person in the street often expresses the same bias. How can anyone admit binge eating is a problem for them when they expect to be met with disgust?

- Have you made repeated suicide threats or attempts in your past and engaged in self-harming?

Yes. Repeated threats, I've made one recorded attempt, family intervention has stopped several others, and in the last week crisis team involvement has stoped several. Ive self harmed for years. My left leg is scars from ankle to knee. I have scars on my other leg and my arms too.

- Do you have severe mood swings, such as feeling intensely depressed, anxious or irritable, which last from a few hours to a few days?

Yes. I'm in a severe depressive epidode at the moment with severe anxiety. An extended episode happens every few years, but between my them I'd consider myself to be emotionally unstable. I have severe mood swings that cause shorter term depression, anxiety, and anger. I can be ok, then at seemingly nothing I'll be suicidal, or anxious, or easily angered. Then I'll be ok again.

- Do you have long-term feelings of emptiness and loneliness?
Yes. All the time. It's one of the hardest parts of being me, the emptiness that just stays, stoping me from interacting or living like normal people. I can't remember not feeling lonely on some level.

- Do you have sudden and intense feelings of anger and aggression, and often find it difficult to control your anger?
Yes. This influenced my falling out with my brothers. It's affected my interaction with colleagues before too, and my husband.

- When you find yourself in stressful situations, do you have feelings of paranoia, or do you feel like you're disconnected from the world or from your own body, thoughts and behaviour?

I often feel paranoid that people are talking about me, laughing at me, or plotting against me, at othertimes I feel totally disconnected and yes, like my body is going through the act of living and interacting but I'm not really there.i also find it hard to remember things that go on while disconnected.

In the last week alone I've phone the crisis team because I've gone from managing to panicked nauseous or suicidal for no reason. I do have stressors at the moment, but this switch can happen for seemingly no reason too.

So, that's Borderline Personality Disorder, the indicators and my responses. I think that's my most likely disorder and would like that to be investigated, but I feel like having waited 16 years to help with depression (22 if you consider the years of migraines due tobstress before that diagnosis), that it'll be another 22 years before anyone listens to my suspicions that more is going on.

However, let's consider me as someone without BDP as the psychiatrist I saw didn't mention it at all. Let's consider Avoidant Personality Disorder instead, as an epansion of my anxious avoidant strategies which were noted.

Avoidant Personality Disorder (taken from this website):

As briefly aforementioned, people with AVPD will exhibit a variety of common traits and characteristics. Although these may vary slightly from person to person, generally avoidant personality disorder symptoms are quite specific. This does not mean however that someone who shows signs of avoidant behaviour has the disorder. Everyone from time to time may feel hypersensitive and antisocial, and only those who exhibit a number of AVPD traits can qualify for a diagnosis.

The most common avoidant personality symptoms are:

- Avoidance of occupational activities.

I've been on the sick for 6 months and I really don't want to go back. Does that count?

- Easily hurt and offended by criticism or disapproval.
Yes. Definitely. And I'll spend days going over and over critisism feeling worthless.

- No close friends.
No. I have a select group of close friends.

- Strong reluctance to get involved with other people.

Yes and no. I'd like to be involved but I don't know how to be without extreme anxiety inhibiting me.

- Strong reluctance to take personal risks or engage in new activities.
Yes. Definitely. Risks and unfamiliar situations cause panic attacks.

- Very shy in social situations.

Yes. Very. I'm known for sticking to my husband's side and staying quiet.

- Preoccupied with criticism.

Yes. See point two.

- Exaggeration of potential difficulties.

I wouldn't say I exaggerate, others might.

- Holding back in intimate relationships.

No. As far as intimate relationships go I'm an all in kind of person.

- Perception that they are socially inept.

I AM socially inept.

- Constantly using 'always' and 'never' statements.
I sometimes use always and never statements.

- Blaming others for creating a problem rather than dealing with the problem.

No, I'll deal with it while seething at the person who is to blame. At least I did until my current depression hit.

- Catastrophizing - always assuming the worst case scenario.
Yes. I do that.

- Depression and mood swings.

Yes.

- Escaping to fantasy worlds and daydreaming about ideal relationships.

Yes, I guess. I'm an author and I write paranormal fantasy books so escaping to fantasy is kind of my thing...

- Fear of abandonment.

Yes. So much so that I avoid people so I don't upset the into leaving, but then they feel pushed away anyway.

- Hardly speaking when forced to participate in a social situation.
Yes. I do this whenever I'm forced into a social situation.

- Hypervigilant - having an unhealthy obsession with the actions, thoughts and interests of others.
I wouldn't say obsession, but I do have an unhealthy concern over the thoughts of others.

- Passive-aggressive behaviour.
Sometimes, when I'm trying to rein in the openly angry outburst which relate to what I discussed in the BPD section of this post.

- Self-loathing and self-victimisation.
All the time. I hate myself. I blame myself for everything. Often it's unbearable.

- Tunnel vision - can only focus on a single concern while ignoring priorities.
I want to say no, but recently it's a yes.

I've read up on other personality disorders too, but none fit as well as BPD followed by AvPD. And the indicators that I've answered yes to all severly impact my life, my ability to socialise, leave the house, maintain family relationships, maintain friendships. I really do think there's something else going on apart from recurrent depressive disorder, but I'm terrified of mentioning it again in case I'm ignored, or told I'm being a hypochondriac. I'm scared of being judged if I ask for a third time. So what do I do? That's a question I can't answer, because part of my brain say's I need help, but another part of my brain also says no one will help anyway so I may as well stay quiet. Or better yet, die.

This is what happens when mental illness goes untreated for too long. Vulnerable peole whose minds are already working against them become ever more entrenched in their doubts and symptoms. But a lot of the time, it seems the government and wider world don't care about that. Physical illness is worthy of being treated. Mental illness? Not so much.

Pseudonymous Zombie
xxx