Psychiatric PTSD


This is going to be a diversion from some of the blog posts I’ve been writing. I have been going in a linear fashion for my digital activism project only to have this project come to a standstill. The reason being is that reliving my memories and trying to explain them to other people, though it can be therapeutic and help people, has brought on bad memories. Then I discovered the guy I love is a Behavioral Health Specialist at a mental health clinic – i.e. writes about patients and then works with psychiatrists to diagnose treatment plans.
I had a vision of this project that at the end, I would tell you that I have worked out my feelings for my RA as being something decided for now as at a standstill. However, realizing his job description, makes me deathly afraid of him. Truth is: I love him. I have loved him for a complicated number of reason such as BPD, attraction to his mind and emotions, physical attraction, infatuation/love/lust, because he’s so different and the need to have someone different in my life that’s challenging me. Only, I feel like I’ve been disillusioned the whole time trying to impress him with school and things only to realize he dropped out of graduate school in October.
The truth is, I have BPD. I’ve never had a successful relationship in my life with anyone – whether it was because of them being narcissistic or me being emotional. I want to tell you that I feel better and am coming to terms with illness, that I am coming to a place of emotional maturity. I’m truly afraid that I will always be chasing ideals in society – in this case, having trying not to be crazy when I know he will always view me as crazy and unstable. I have trauma against mental health professionals looking down on psychiatric patients and there is no therapy group, books or resources for my condition. I only have myself and I’m scared.
So things are going to change with this blog – I will be more honest from now on. Let me be clear though, I love him and it hurts to know I will never be enough for him. That I may never know a way to treat my BPD, Bipolar or both for people to be happy with me because of how I’ve failed with medications and therapy. That’s how I honestly feel. I can’t say I have the answers because I’m still learning. I frequently don’t feel safe around people and I don’t know how to fix it. That’s why I have been writing, writing and ruminating over these experiences. That’s why I have learned so much about mental health now even without qualification in the field and still feel deathly afraid of ever stepping into it – out of the fear of diagnosing myself. This is the truth
* That I may never come to terms with the system.
* That I may be always outside of the system looking in and monitoring my thoughts.
* That I will never express my thoughts out of fear of institutionalization.
* That I will look at people with kids and loving partners – thinking that it will never happen to me.
* That I secretly don’t know if I deserve to have kids or love.
* That I will always see people as judging me or using me to be means to their own ends.
It’s just a fact that I’m not okay. That’s all I can be right now. I talked to him about it. He understands that I’m upset. He agrees people can be desensitized in mental hospitals. He’s a caring person. There’s just no other way around it. We are different and everything but, I’m really glad we are friends.


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