How people with mental disorders are treated

By writing this, I really don’t intend to play the poor misunderstood victim. I hate it when people do that. My intention is firstly, to write down my feelings, secondly, make others feel understood and thirdly, make people without mental disorders understand.
Today I was able to really get into the feeling of being completely misunderstood again.
Did you ever notice that hardly anyone takes mental illnesses seriously?
You would never go to someone with cancer and say ‘come on, you got a great life, so get over it’. You can’t compare these two things? Oh yes, you can. Both are serious disorders and the person with the disorder NEVER chooses or wants it and neither, it can just be turned off. When you have a cold, you also can’t say ‘hey, this is ridiculous, I’ll just stop being sick’. It’s not how it works. Nobody would ever tell a cancer patient it’s not that bad and he should just stop thinking about it because life is actually so great. Nobody tells him he needs to get over it or he doesn’t have the time to be sick now because there are way more important things. Nobody does that.
Of course you have an influence on the disorder. It’s pretty much impossible to recover if you only focus on the sickness, but doesn’t mean it will fade away if you only focus on the positive things in life. It’s. Not. How. It. Works. You can start the recovery by never giving up and always keep going and all these things, but you can’t just flip the switch and be healthy. I was told once ‘you’re just sad. Get out of your room, do something cool and you’ll be okay’, but depression is not sadness. That’s why we say ‘depressed’ instead of ‘sad’. There’s a difference between being sad and depressed. Sadness is a feeling you can get rid of easily, but depression is a sickness that kills people. Why do you think people kill themselves? Because they’re sad? So when you’re sad, you think about throwing yourself in front of the train?
Why do we do anything to help the ALS patients, but tell girls with deadly eating disorders to ‘just eat normally’?
The brain is an organ too. You can die when it’s sick too, it just happens a different way.
Why I’m writing about this is because I had a conversation with my mom today that caused one of those ‘just keep going, don’t cry, don’t fall apart’ moments (guess you know what I mean). I used to think she was joking when she said ‘we won’t have time for any disorders anymore (once the baby will be born)’. Today I figured out: she wasn’t. I told her about my planned discharge from the hospital on July 8th and she said like it was something taken for granted that I wouldn’t be in ambulant therapy afterwards. I’d be healthy then, right? I was seriously shocked. I’ve been in therapies for four years now (three years mostly in hospitals, one only ambulant) and she still has no idea. I thought she got it after all this time. But she didn’t. Maybe I’m expecting too much from ‘normal’ (don’t know how else to say it) people, but can’t I expect people to understand me after a few years? I started to doubt that thought when she said that.
She told me after this therapy, I won’t have time for another one anymore.
Her real words were: you won’t have time to be sick anymore.
These words were like a dagger in my heart. Realizing that after years, my mom still doesn’t have a clue. There will be more important things, she said.
All I wanna do is cry right now because I just can’t take it.
I’m supposed to just get over it after this therapy because I won’t have time to be sick.
I’ll just have to tell myself ‘I’m healthy now. I’ve recovered. I’m okay’ and then I’ll be.
And everything will be fine because we all know I won’t have time to be sick anymore.
Like I chose to be like this. Like I chose to feel like dying every single day.
Like I wanna be sick. Because it’s just such a great feeling.
My mom said I need to focus on the good things and just stop all this sickness crap.
Like I’ll just flip the switch and be fine.
Damn, she has no idea how badly I want that. I told her, but I realized she doesn’t get anything I tell her about my sickness. When a loved person tells you something like this, it’s like a shot in the breast. And right now, the wound is bleeding like shit.

It goes on.

This is a Depression Blog

I know a number of people who find comfort in the phrase “This too shall pass.” I appreciate the idea behind it; I think it’s beautiful. Yet, it never rang true for me. I can’t forge a connection with the saying because it doesn’t line-up with my experience very well.

Perhaps I’m impatient. I feel like many things in my life don’t really pass, but maybe I’ve just not waited long enough. I’ll be the first to admit that my level of patience really depends on how long I have to wait!

But then I think of my dysthymia – my chronic depression. Will it, too, pass? Maybe. Maybe if I wait long enough. But maybe not, too. Maybe this shall not pass [insert your own Gandalf reference here]. So when people say “This too shall pass.”, I’m a bit skeptical.

Eventually I found my own phrase to use. Something…

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What it’s like with depression

Before I started my therapy in the psychosomatic hospital where I still am right now, I went to school and on one of my last days, we talked about the topic depression. I could have killed everyone in the classroom. Depression is when you’re sad all the time, the teacher explained. And sometimes you don’t feel anything at all. And a student responded, then I have depression too! The class laughed and others agreed with him. Why is depression even an illness?, someone asked. We’re all sad sometimes. And I felt the urge to scream. When I think back, I know I should’ve stood up and tell them what it really means to be suffering from depression. 

I would have said: 
Do you wanna know what it’s like with depression? It’s like drowning. Expect you can see everyone around you breathing. You’re in a huge dark ocean and you’re struggling and struggling so hard, but no matter how hard you try, you just can’t reach the surface. You cannot swim. And while you’re drowning, you try to scream, but you can’t because only water fills your lungs. And you’re suffering down there and nobody can see anything. They just see the ocean’s still surface. Not what lies underneath. When you’re suffering from depression, it’s not just sadness. That’s not what it feels like. It’s living with a constant pain, the water in the ocean, that pulls you down every single day. And you try so hard, but you just can’t fight it. Sometimes you think it gets better, but it just takes a break. And then it comes back and it crashes down like a wave and makes you lose the floor under your feet. You can take pills and numb the pain, but it won’t fade away. 

But I couldn’t. I just sat there, dying inside.

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Dreams and reality

The current topic in my therapy because my therapist says I’m a dreamer and I need to accept the fact that my dreams may fail and I may need a plan B. But do I really need to accept that? Do I need to accept the fact that I may fail? That I actually may be a failure? Why should I do that? Why should I tell myself I may not reach my goals? It’s strange, you know. People always say you need dreams and they’re never too high and you need to hold on to them and they all can come true if you really want it and work hard for it. But once you do that, you’re an illusionist. That’s the rub of all this, isn’t it? You’re told to be yourself and then you’re judged. People can’t keep their words. My therapist asked me today: what if a real fortune teller came to you and told you you won’t reach the goals you set yourself for your future? I guess my answer surprised him: I would do anything to prove him wrong. He responded: but what if he was right and you couldn’t do anything about it? And I said: I would never accept that. I would never give up until I’d made sure I’d done anything I could possibly have to reach my goals. No matter how unrealistic. Some people call me a fighter because of that, others an idiot. But I don’t care. Any dream is realistic that can physically be turned into reality. Wanting a real unicorn is as unrealistic as wanting stupidity to no longer exist, but why can’t a black boy wish to become president? Why can’t a little Neill want to see the moon? Why can’t I move to the continent where I belong in three years and go to college then- though I don’t have any money yet? Why shouldn’t I find a way? That’s the same with revolutions. It’s always a small stupid dream at the beginning until somebody stands up and works as hard as possible to turn it into a new kind of reality. Yeah, I wanna go to a $ 30,000 college even though I don’t have any money right now. Why shouldn’t I find a way? Why should I fail? And I told my therapist: I’m never gonna accept that. Maybe I’m an illusionist because there is no plan B for me and the only possible future is in my eyes the one others call a dream. Of course I’m scared of failing. But I will never accept the possibility for the fear to come true. Everyone keeps telling me I need to live reality, but if reality means giving up on dreams I’ll stay in my world of illusions.

I have reached so much. When I came here last year, I couldn’t imagine to skip purging for a week after I’d done it for four years. And now? I haven’t thrown up by myself in six months and don’t miss it either. I’ve gone through hell to come to where I am today. Yes, I’m scared. But after everything I’ve reached so far, I’ll never give up again before I got what I want. Because I’ve seen I can do it. And I won’t let some doctors who are unhappy with their lives stop me from getting what I want. No matter how hard it’s gonna be and how many doubts I’ll have. It’s never been easy for me anyway. But I’ve always been smarter and stronger than the others. Like the great J. F. Kennedy said: Those who dare to fail miserably can achieve greatly. And I did fail miserably. Now it’s time for part two to happen.

Fear of failure

You know, I have a very concrete plan of my future. I’m a planning person.
One of those people who can’t work without knowing what they’re doing it for. One of those people who can’t struggle without knowing the finish line.
I can’t live without knowing what I’m fighting for.
So I planned my future very detailed. High school graduation in 2016 (now 2018 because of all the stupid psychiatries and that stuff) and starting college fall 2016 (now 2018) or spring 2017 (now 2019). A good college, state doesn’t matter (just not Texas, Alaska or Hawaii), tuition/ tax/ whatever it’s called when it comes to college with room costs and that stuff no chance higher than 25,000 per year, if possible less than 20,000. Elementary school teaching. And then? Finding a job as a elementary school teacher in some nice city and start a family once I’ve found real love.
That’s the plan, but I feel like it’s all starting to fall apart even though there’s still so much time left. It’s just not enough.
I’m so incredibly fucking scared my plan won’t work out. There’s no plan B, just some stupid dreams like getting a scholarship or becoming an FBI agent or a super star.
But no alternative to what I’ve planned. I can’t imagine changing it.
But now?
I’m still in therapy, pregnant and without any money. So what am I gonna do?
I really am looking forward to childbirth, but I’m scared of the life I’ll lead then.
I’m scared of failing, not being good enough, not being a good mother.
And even though that’s hard to say because I feel like I’m insulting my child, I’m scared I’ll fuck up my future because of having a child. I’m scared motherhood might ruin all my chances.
I know there are plenty of colleges with child program for young parents, but that’s fucking expensive and I don’t have the money and I don’t even know if it’s so easy to get into such a program at college. I don’t even know if any college will ever want me, and now with a child? And what if I’ll find a college, but then I’ll fuck it up by having bad grades or not enough points of whatever?
What if I won’t get my degree? And I’ll have spent thousands of dollars I don’t even have for nothing? Or I won’t even be able to attend college cuz I won’t find a job and the necessary support to pay it?
And even worse- what if I won’t even be able to take these steps cuz I won’t make my high school graduation? What if it will all be too much for me and in the worst case scenario, I’ll break down and have to go into another hospital? What will happen then?
I’ll be the worst mom ever. Will I be that?
I really wanna do this, but I don’t know if I can. There are so many possible fails and what ifs. What if one of them will catch me? What if I’ll fail? What will be then?
I wanna become a good mother. I wanna make it through.
But am I capable of all this? Is it even possible for me?
Can I do this? Or will I fail?
I’m so scared.
Nobody believes in me. Nobody ever did. I used to not care about that, but now I do.
I feel so stupid for thinking I’ll make any of this. Everybody says I won’t make it, so why should I anyway? How am I supposed to make any of this? HOW?


Places of remembrance 

I drove through the town where I used to live for five years until I attempted suicide (twice) today. I wanted to close my eyes as we passed, but I couldn’t. I felt… Dazzled. But not in a positive way. More in a paralyzed way.
My voice would have been husky if I would have been able to talk and I was trembling so hard when I saw all those familiar places where all the terrible things happened. When we drove through the woods where I had tried to kill myself for the first time, I felt like I recognized every single spot though it was already dusk.
This is where I wanted to die, I thought. Where I almost died.
My eyes got wet, but gladly I didn’t cry (I was not alone in the car).
You know, the feelings I got are ridiculous. It’s been three years since then and I actually got over it. I’m not even suicidal anymore, not in almost half a year.
So why did it hurt so bad?
The memories don’t hurt at all anymore. I can’t even talk about what happened without blinking. But the places? Hurts like hell.
Where’s the problem with them?
I’m still shocked by all those images that popped up.