If any of you dear readers are still around– maybe you remember that I’ve written some posts on mental health in the past. I met Phil through Twitter, and the #mentalhealthformen chat he hosts, and was very pleasantly surprised to see he blogs on WordPress. Please take a moment to read. Thank you.
So last week was #MentalHealthAwarenessWeek and you would have seen numerous blog posts about it and people being so open about it. I think we should encourage more people, not just males or just females, just PEOPLE to talk about it.
For everybody who suffers with Mental Health issues I bet you wish you had the support that you saw or gave on Twitter everyday in your life, let me just say YOU WILL. So long as you talk about it. In my opinion we need to focus more on Mental Health and trying to increase the awareness so more people will understand it and not judge.
I suffer with it now and have done for a long time and in this post I am going to open up for the first time PUBLICLY and talk about what I have been through and how…
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I revisited these thoughts, and more details I haven’t shared here in an answer on Quora: https://www.quora.com/How-can-I-stop-myself-from-binge-eating-and-gaining-weight/answer/Jack-Lumen
Please also see
When I did the Lines Project back in December with my wife and my daughter, I was reluctant to put a yellow line on my arm for eating disorder. I thought, “It doesn’t count!” A little voice said, “Yes, it does.”
I enthusiastically participated in The Lines Project last December, as my daughterand I deal with self-harm issues. It was hard enough drawing some of the lines- but as I had come to an understanding of my cPTSD, and some of the very real dissociative episodes I had sometimes when the stress got to be too much, I figured I could count the orange and teal stripes.
Several others I thought were pretty self-explanatory, although purple was something that was also self-realized relatively recently- I mean in the past decade or so. (I’ve written a little on my issues of sexual…
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I’ve never received a #BPD diagnosis- just PTSD at best (and the psychiatrist that made it was a pill-dispensary machine- another story!). And not just PTSD, but I feel complex PTSD is the best fit. Yet a LOT of this fits me, and I’ve benefited a lot from Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT). Please have a read.
I want to preface this post with sending out some love to anyone who’s reading this who has a Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) (also called Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder) diagnosis.
I know that many people (including mental health professionals) will treat you differently because of this diagnosis. I have witnessed people with BPD being called manipulative for how they cope/ask for help, abusive for lashing out while overwhelmed by emotions which often stem from abuse they suffered in childhood, being told that they can’t be treated – that they will just have to learn to live with their illness (which, by the way, is totally untrue!), and just generally being treated like crap, both online, and by professionals in real life.
This is unfair in the extreme. Your illness is not somehow ‘your fault’ because it was caused by how you developed from childhood. In fact, that just means that…
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Met Muddly Mum by way of a Twitter chat called #BPDChat (@officialBPDChat). I deal with complex PTSD, but I’ve found great relief in Dialectical Behavior Therapy (#DBT), which I found out by way of others in this community. Despite hardships with cPTSD, I too have found a silver lining in the grey cloud. Please read.
*may contain triggers*
I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) in May 2005 after having had a breakdown in November 2004. I was referred to the local Therapeutic Community and after two years at three days a week I was much better. I had two more children, launched my own business and managed my BPD on the whole for nine years. I actually thought I was just a bit low in September and it gradually got worse until after Christmas I started self harming again to try and shut up the noisy intrusive thoughts. I took an overdose about a ten days ago to shut up my head for good. It seemed a logical step at the time! Thank God I’ve not wrecked my liver. So as you can tell it’s tough at the moment. I’ve got through this before and at this moment I feel I could beat…
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My father… has embraced this truth. I don’t know how much he remembers himself, but he’s beginning to believe.
From REBLOG: …the father becomes the son. (more thoughts) August 14, 2015:
About a week ago, Cimmorene remembered where she was during my father’s near-death experience, and the weight of the sacrifice that I made to encourage my father to resume his life, so mine could begin.
Anyone who thinks the term “soulmate” is the stuff of cheesy Hollywood romantic fairytales and is nothing but fluff and shiny optimism, I must tell you, dear readers– in my experience, it’s a lie.
It’s true that Cimmorene and I remember a life together before mortality. We remember bonds that have been forged and reforged many times. But for all the light, wonderment, and immense awe, there is sorrow, darkness, and pain. There is anticipation of regret even before the blood, sweat, and tears began.
As usual, she remembered something I did not. She said that for that small moment, it…
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Hey guys- my dear wife has volunteered to help Athena Moberg and Bobbi Parish in gathering submissing for an adult (meditative) coloring book, to raise funds for Trauma Recovery University. TRU is an organization dedicated to helping survivors of child sexual abuse. These funds will help make conferences and other resources possible.
Please help spread the word? Please see the following below (and click on the link for more information):
This year, Trauma Recovery University (TRU) is putting together a colo(u)ring book which we intend to sell to raise funds. Cimmy has agreed to be the point of contact for this project. All the ba…
Please also see Boundaries. Trust. To write love on my arms. for a better understanding why The Lines Project is so intensely important to me. Yes, I deal with self-harm. But please, go read, and…
Source: The Lines Project
(re-Pressed with Press This! for those that might be looking for this article on the tao of jaklumen)
It’s been one year and one week- and I’ve found others on Twitter that deal with this, too. NO, it’s not just a teen issue. It’s also not just a female issue. This issue actually knows no gender, age, or other circumstances- anyone can deal with self harm.
Trigger warning: I am about to write about subjects such as self-harm, self-mutilation, co-dependency, emotional enmeshment, and so on. There will be at least one photo. Please, please take care if such things upset you, especially if any of these are issues for you too, dear readers.
Yes, I’m going to write about it, now. Maybe some of you remember To write love on her arms (it’s a short post, so I have included most of it, as follows):
Two years ago, I learned that my daughter turned to cutting to deal with the crushing stress in her life.
She turned to it again two nights ago when Cimmorene lost it with Boy when he would not go to bed for several hours. Cimmy let me know, because she knew I wouldn’t be angry– how could I? I dealt with it myself.
I cut myself years ago…
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I am still working on a post about the Mother Wound concept, so, for now- a post about Mother’s Day, from the archives.
Mother’s Day can be a mixed bag for me.
My whole blogging experience started out with trying to sort out the anger I had with my mother, trying to heal a lot of inner wounds and self-loathing from past emotional rape and other traumatic experiences. It didn’t help much that HER mother was also part of the dysfunctionally tangled web that was much of my childhood.
I had to set some of that aside when my mother was diagnosed with Parkinson’s.
That said, I must give credit where credit is due. I was born and bred to be domestic. My mother (and my grandmother) taught me a lot of skills as such that have served me very, very well. I suppose this was easier to impart as I was the only male child. I know it sparks a small amount of envy at times: I’ve said that I like…
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