Category Archives: confused

October 01, 2019 3:47 pm

Glan Dulyn | 11°C

I talked to Mam. A lot. When she really puts her “Momee Hat” on, she manages to completely disassemble things that completely baffle and “Bewilder” (her word; a very good word…) into perspective, in a way that is so proficient and clear, I am able to file it away or use it in my own… Analyses. 

This time… It was BPD – but ALSO… She answered the biggest head-fuck of my life: The BEWILDERMENT, TORMENT and UTTER & COMPLETE MIND-FUCK of just how I went from My Life In London to… Well, THIS

And it ALL started — NOT JUST THAT — with… ASD.

Or rather, the lack of willing support, understanding, help, kindness, patience, and Diagnosis of it. NO ONE KNEW. 

 

And from the beginning… Basically…

 

I Was Born To Die.

To Suffer… 

To Be Tormented…

To Fail.

I. Never. Stood. A. Single. Chance. In. Hell…

 

The lack of everything I ever needed for ASD was NOT THERE.

 

Instead, I became more and more terrified, confused, befuddled… AND TRAUMATISED > THAT TRAUMA CREATED BPD, in a child who became terrified of Abandonment, of the Emotions that Erupted because of it that SHE DIDN’T — COULDN’T!! — EVER UNDERSTAND, of the confusion that NEVER EVER MADE ANY SENSE… This list keeps going on, and on, and ON…

I. WAS. ALWAYS. DOOMED. TO. FAILIURE.

And everything spiralled from there.

No one was able to stop my Nightmare Crucible from happening when I was a child.

There was no one there to tell me to go to the Docs to seek help before Pneumonia started… or to stop me from doing what I did afterwards whilst I had it.

I had to leave Finsbury Park and the only person who could & would have done that… 

There was no one there to help me in Leyton when I got sicker & sicker… The NE London Foundation Trust was just as sick as I was

There was no one to help me stop the BPD from taking over, the sicker and sicker I got, or to keep EDI Online… Because NO ONE HAD A GODDAMNED CLUE ABOUT EITHER OF THEM…

And so… There we go. Here we are. Biggest Question Now: What to do with said information? Obviously, it’s a new Filter, for nearly pretty much Everything to be processed through.

Processing the Data will take time… That’s a lot of crunching, even for a Supercomputer(!). I’m not Quite Quantum… Yet…(!)

#resentment #uncomfortable #personalinsights #trauma #uncertainty #scared #confused #overwhelmed #sad #mam #disassociation #illness #selfawareness #cptsd #pain #aggitated #panic #terrified #anguish #miserable #helplessness #exhaustion #waitingfordoom #upset #crushingfeels #disturbed #mixedfeels #independence #asd #depression #ptsd #imprisonedfeels #mentalhealth #disability #stressed #anxiety #selfcare #memories #inspiring #despairing #alexithymia #aspie #hypervigilance #bpd #skittish #distressed #caredfor #paranoid #drained #fatigue #vibratingscared #grief #chaos

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Changes…

 | 14°C |

Brain so traumatised flashbacks are so very easy to trigger… So many things inside my head, burning it, terrorising it.

Living with horrors, with so much actual real physical agony pain, the agony of emotions & Feels, I can’t help the Symptoms of Trauma coming back to haunt me… 😢😣😔

The  chaos, the “Landfill”, the lack of control, the despairing desperation of just things thrown on top of each other – simply because pain makes it too unbearable to sort it out or put things away properly… It’s everything I was… I don’t really think I am quite that anymore, and coming slowly out of it.

But still, things are yet to be available to me — like being able to move completely freely (within the confines that I have), to be able to manage to do things without paying in pain afterwards, to think clearly (for all “EDI” being here, powering “her” takes extreme effort and energy I quite often do not have at all, and when she whirrs up & powers on, to use herself automatically, the exhaustion and drained emptiness inside is more than Real), to physically do what are still quite demanding things… Despite being stronger, despite being without that level of pain, it’s still difficult. Draining. Demoralising. Downright Confusing.

All these things come with Feels I do not like, and certainly do not understand. None of this makes sense to me — and at least what I have found out recently has answered a lot of questions I had about this, so at least now, it’s a lot less scary for this to actually happen. If Still Not Just As Confusing

When you have Alexithymia and ASD, the strong and confusing Feels that come from having absolutely terrifying conditions run by high-rate emotions, is downright goddamned Terrifying

CPTSD triggers traumatic emotions, responses, reminders, Flashbacks, Fears, … All things that to someone who barely knows Feels even exist, is utterly, utterly bewildering, terrifying… & Out of my Depth, and WAY out of my Control

BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder)… All the things I read in what that makes your brain do, is right there in me… And without knowing all of that — it’s been utterly, completely, mind-blowingly off-the-charts Confusing & White-Hot Terrifying

Now I know there are these… Gaps… inside me & my Brain, I realise that maybe, like Lolli keeping saying, I never will truly understand them… But at least now I know where the are coming from, which is a goddamned BIG DEAL. Like an Epiphany. Boo also said, when I showed her BPD, “Did you write this…?”, because it described everything that nothing else seemed to quite cover — the extent of my behaviour didn’t correlate with what was already “normal” for ASD.

Like the Alexithymia — ASD people have difficulty with Feels, but they figure it out. I never have, and Now I know that I never will. It’s a relief to know. It’s a relief to know about the others, too. There might be no changing their… “Quirks”However, there are plenty of ways to balance them out and manage them. Understand them.

It makes a Difference.

It makes All the Sodding Difference In The World

It’s just that… Right Now… I Just Have No Idea Where To Even Start With It

#aggitated #anxiety #dismal #confused #frustration #disturbed #asd #alexithymia #upset #bpd #distressed #trauma

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September 21, 2019 2:39 pm

4 Glandulyn | 23°C





I Still Can’t Quite Process This…

Borderline Personality Disorder

It is Imperative to know… However…

ASD, Alexithymia, perhaps even BDP Itself, disallows me to be able to manage to process anything about knowing it, understanding it, or thinking about progressively accepting & researching this…

Well… No there’s problem Accepting it… It explains everything OTT inside me that ASD just doesn’t do to that extent. Like the Alexithymia takes lack of emotional understanding to a whole new level. 

Disassociation. Extreme Fatigue. Confusion. Exhaustion. Traumatised & Demoralised. Therefore… No chance of processing something so big & shiny-new…

But… I guess it’s the same rules as ASD and the Lexi… These thing are an “is” — the symptoms, the effects, what it does to your brain… Then figure out “workarounds”… Right…?

The other thing is… Formal diagnosis or not? The ASD was mind-blowingly life-changing. But this…? When it’s a co-morbid secondary issue, I’m not sure if it’s really worth it. There’s nothing they can really do about it, is there…? Well, I mean, not for me… Specifically. Not in general. Other people can take the treatments listed. But I cannot. 

The information alone lone is worth more than anything else. Easier to fight or control an enemy you’re not only aware of, but know everything about. 

What to do… This is tough one. It should be a no-brainer… But after my life, my life-experiences? Decades of everything going wrong when it comes to these things… I’ve been burned so many times, inside I’m more like a crispy corpse. I’d have naught but scar tissue everywhere from the burns. I have no space left for more, now.

I’m kinda done with formal NHS Metal Health, now. Including this, possibly. Probably? It’s still a Question-Mark. Maybe it’s important to have. Or at least to know. For certain? But it’s a weird psychological issue again, and again another debated about everywhere. Not understood properly.

Might it bring more understanding, more relief, like the ASD one did? That there’s a “Name” for all this terrifying, horrific things inside me that lash out and terrify my ASD & Alexithymia more than half to death? 

I hate these questions. I hate that they even are questions. I used to know the answers before they were even posed. 

I’m not here. And I am terrified…

#uncomfortable #weird #personalinsights #asd #exhaustion #fatigue #anguish #researching #helplessness #sad #aggitated #drained #alexithymia #frustration #bpd #stressed #anxiety #disassociation #selfawareness #uncertainty #upset #disturbed #distressed #pictures #feels #confused #drowningfeels #suffocatingfeels #research #overwhelmed #panic #tmi

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Borderline Personality Curiosity…

| 23°C |

I Still Can’t Quite Process This…

Borderline Personality Disorder

It is Imperative to know… However…

ASDAlexithymia, perhaps even BDP Itself, disallows me to be able to manage to process anything about knowing it, understanding it, or thinking about progressively accepting & researching this…

Well… No there’s problem Accepting it… It explains everything OTT inside me that ASD just doesn’t do to that extent. Like the Alexithymia takes lack of emotional understanding to a whole new level. 

Disassociation. Extreme Fatigue. Confusion. Exhaustion. Traumatised & Demoralised. Therefore… No chance of processing something so big & shiny-new…

But… I guess it’s the same rules as ASD and the Lexi… These thing are an “is” — the symptoms, the effects, what it does to your brain… Then figure out “workarounds”… Right…?

The other thing is… Formal diagnosis or not? The ASD was mind-blowingly life-changing. But this…? When it’s a co-morbid secondary issue, I’m not sure if it’s really worth it. There’s nothing they can really do about it, is there…? Well, I mean, not for meSpecifically. Not in general. Other people can take the treatments listed. But I cannot. 

The information alone is worth more than anything else. Easier to fight or control an enemy you’re not only aware of, but know everything about. 

What to do… This is tough one. It should be a no-brainer… But after my life, my life-experiences? Decades of everything going wrong when it comes to these things… I’ve been burned so many times, inside I’m more like a crispy corpse. I’d have naught but scar tissue everywhere from the burns. I have no space left for more, now.

I’m kinda done with formal NHS Metal Health, now. Including this, possibly. Probably? It’s still a Question-Mark. Maybe it’s important to have. Or at least to know. For certain? But it’s a weird psychological issue again, and again another debated about everywhere. Not understood properly.

Might it bring more understanding, more relief, like the ASD one did? That there’s a “Name” for all this terrifying, horrific things inside me that lash out and terrify my ASD & Alexithymia more than half to death? 

I hate these questions. I hate that they even are questions. I used to know the answers before they were even posed. 

I’m not here. And I am terrified…

#research #panic #pictures #frustration #anguish #selfawareness #feels #personalinsights #suffocatingfeels #sad #drowningfeels #uncomfortable #uncertainty #drained #disturbed #upset #weird #asd #alexithymia #anxiety #overwhelmed #distressed #confused #disassociation #stressed #helplessness #exhaustion #researching #aggitated #fatigue #bpd #tmi

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The Shower Trauma

 | 14°C |

Eating Genius (GF) Blueberry muffin, pissed at the phones my poor best friend S currently has to put up with, wondering how long it’s going to take me to lose my rag with this UMIDIGI F1 that’s been somehow compromised… 

I had my shower. My body and mind feels better. It was difficult — I ended up in a rather bad sugar crash, and had to eat Toast, DF Cookies & Jacob’s Crackers. In the shower. It was Not Nice… 😖😞

When I got upstairs, I ended up fretting and being broken by the thought – the knowledge – that this didn’t have to have been like this for so goddamned long.

Afterwards, I also had to endure the inevitable subsequent Adrenaline push, making me quiver and shake as badly as the Sugar Low, Vexed & Anxiously Disgruntled by the time I got out and went upstairs.

Did you know that when I told Sophie that the Twat Fuckfaceheads that came to see me (Johanna & Donna – rat bastard C***s) had told me that if I decided I wanted to go on the list for a place of my own, that I could not have this place done up to be functional, she was astounded and told me it was UTTER BOLLOCKS…!! UTTER FUCKING BOLLOCKS!!

I hadn’t HAD to suffer! I hadn’t HAD to go through such Agony any Trauma as I had… and still had to.That this could all have been Avoided by someone who cared about taking pity on me and allowing me to have the shower room that I desperately needed so frikkin badly

I DIDN’T HAVE TO GO THROUGH ANY OF THIS AT ALL!!!!!!!

And what could I have DONE with access like this to a shower that would have cut my pain in HALF??!! The Escalation could have been STOPPED. Such ongoing TRAUMA & AGONY & HATE AVOIDED?????

HAVE I NOT BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH????? DID I REALLY NEED TO GO THROUGH EVEN MORE?????

NO MERCY!!!

NONE… AT. ALL.

I cried. Just a little bit. But. I. Cried. I never, ever cry (unless it’s Meltdown-Related). I do not cry when I am sad. This, though… This so Disgusted Me, Moved Me, Disturbed Me… I didn’t know what else my body could possibly do, when it did this…

… Inside, I am just Traumatised All Over Again. I honestly have another wave of PTSD about all of this, on top of, and Separate, from the rest. It makes me feel… Terror. Horror. Makes me want to physically vomit. The Fear. The Horror. The Sickening Suffering… 

I am DevastatedWrecked. Frustrated. Horrified. Traumatised. Destroyed. I could not describe it any more, or any better. These things are not easy to process in any way, shape, or form. 

Does anyone else feel sick now, too…?? 

Nearly Two Years – Two Frikkin Goddamned Years – Has Been Lost. I was 36 when the Occocuses Started. And I’m 38 1/2 when the Shower is Fitted. 

#dignity #agony #cellphones #crushingfeels #techspecs #disability #overwhelmed #drowningfeels #alexithymia #devestated #drained #dragondisappointment #food #occutherpist #miserable #phonetech #scared #tech #asd #headache #anxiety #exhaustion #anguish #paraesthesia #ptsd #eating #accessiblebathroom #confused #aggitated #ora #stressed #fatigue #despairing #hair #fibromyalgia #shower #angry #grief #painsomnia #phones #distressed #nhsdirect #showerchair #helplessnessPowered by Journey Diary.


Painsomnia

 | 15°C

Painsomnia… Aptly-Named...

 

For days… weeks(?)… I’ve been unable to say words in writing. My head aches at the mere thought of making sense of my Feels enough to attach actual words to them… 

Dailyos haven’t been filled in (will have to do them retrospectively… Somehow… Using this log…). Even this Journey Journal hasn’t been used for anything much more than a LogBook. 

I’ve found this to be a Notably Reliable Indicator of Depression. Not the bad kind… No. The Really, Really, Badly Fucked Up Kind.


What’s been happening over the past few weeks, along with the God-Awful bitter hopelessness of recent times, is ensuring my brain is being cemented into the Wonderland of my Mind… And it seems I am, once again, being packed up and flung down that Rabbit Hole, ready to be destroyed and torn to pieces all over again. 

Chaos. Fatigue. Exhaustion. Grief. Confusion. The inability to process complicated Emotional Feels. Not enough time to process Complex Emotional Feels. It all just builds up and up and up, until I’m so completely and entirely overwhelmed…

I am done in… Distressed. Frustrated. Overwhelmed. Frightened. Anxious. Wound Up. Agitated. 

I fear sleeping again. I’m not even sure if I know why…

I am am in such a physical mess… And not just the Fibro. Not being able to wash my body, or my hair, or engage in any proper self-care at all is heartbreaking. But it also has an actual knock-on affect in so many other ways, too. You cannwot get properly cleaned with wet wipes. You don’t get properly washed to prevent catheter infections. Taking all your clothes off properly means that heat rash, allergens, creams and oils, groom and backside areas get properly washed, rinsed and sluiced. 

I need to get some kind of grip on it… Quickly. Before it become next to impossible to wrangle The Beast back without an all-out war…

#anxiety #anguish #asd #aggitatedPowered by Journey Diary.


Surviving Trauma with ASD

My Story… My Life…

The Second Time My World Imploded into PTSD…

When I was 34, literally my entire world fell apart. I was so ill I couldn’t move and was in 24/7 agony from Fibromyalgia, and after 2 years of this illness and 10 years together, my partner snapped and she sent me home to live with my parents. Actually, she asked them to come and get me.

Just one random day. She stopped texting me. Then vanished. Never came home. I freaked the crap out. Turns out she went to her mums house. I had to track her down. And her step dad was a bitch to me on the phone.

Then she told me everything was done, we were done, and she wasn’t coming back until, I was packed up and ready to go.

My. World. Died. And. Ended. In. That. Moment.

She took the last remnants of things I had left — and I had already lost the career I loved and the data migration project I was just about to start. And destroyed them. Just one random day. Just like that.

It was nearly 4 years ago, this November it will be.

It was utterly sheer hell. I didn’t know if or how I was ever going to survive. I was delirious with agony and pain, screaming and blacking out from it every day, my parents were yelling at me, screaming at me, doing other bad things at me. I had several meltdowns per day. Everyday. The worst ever kinds. I used to come round to disaster and injuries I had no idea about constantly. It was horrendous…

It went on for years… I tried to OD twice. Was in an ambulance for it. It was a waking nightmare of exceptional proportions.

I don’t know how or why I am still here… But I am. And, frankly, I’m proud of myself for that.

And I survived long enough to get a very special person back in my life. And it’s in a better way this time too …. 🤔

So… I get it. I truly undoubtedly do.

And, also, that is how I know that others can survive this. Because I have, I do. We do. Cos we’re strong and kick ass and have to take far more than anyone could ever frikkin imagine. All. Day. Every. Day.

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝


July 07, 2019 2:36 am

North Wales | 11°C

 

I’ve just seen the date at the top of this iPad a moment ago…

It’s 7/7 — the day things changed forever…

7th July 2015

14 Years Ago Today

And it will never “Just”… “Grow Old”… We were there. In the middle of it. SN was outside a few hundred yards away from That Freaking, Frikkin Bus… Maybe not half an hour after it blew itself up…

We watched it all as it unfurled itself on the news. Heard those Ambulances’ sirens dull on the TV as they raced further away from the scene… Only to get louder and louder outside my window on the way to the Trauma Centre in the Royal Free, Hampstead. It made it a chilling reality

The worst thing, however, was the fact that SN was inadvertently out there when the Tavistock Square Busexploded. The bomb had not long gone off, maybe only an hour or even half an hour. Entirely naïve of the situation, she had gone to meet her parents coming in to Euston from North Wales to see her graduation recital at Arts Ed.

If she had gone sooner, as she says, she decided to go take the mail upstairs to our apartment (Oakley Square, Mornington Crescent, Camden)  instead of leaving right away, she might have been there when the bomb exploded… Heard It… Saw It… Hopefully nowhere near the circumference of the shrapnel trajectory…

As she also pointed out, we would walk past there to get to town. If she hadn’t been having her Recital that day, who knows where we would have been. There’s a place close by we liked to have breakfast in, I’m certain. We could have been going there, done that… It all doesn’t bear to be thinking about… 😖😢😞

But SN was in Euston a little later, thank goodness… She says there was an air of something … wrong… there… But no clear indications — perhaps a fire down in the Tube line? That it wasn’t until I called her, she didn’t know anything had happened.

For me, it had been a very long nightmareto get hold of her. Phone networks were already being jammed (the cell phone networks in 2005 were still really in their infancy stage compared to now…), and I could not get hold of her. For ages… Minutes and Minutes… Which is forever when your best friend might be in serious danger…

I had known nothing was wrong until C (my sister) emailed me to ask how I was, if I was OK. I obviously told her I was fine and at home. And asked why she was asking. She told me to turn on the TV. Any. Channel

With that, my blood went cold and turned on the BBC… The first thing I saw was the fully exploded, destroyed and ripped out backend of the No. 30 Bus in… Tavistock SquareWhich was… Right. By. Euston. Station…. 😱😟😟😟😣😣😣😣😣😣🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯😖😖😖😖😖😖

So, I flipped and started ringing her frantically, until I finally got an answer. And I nearly wept outright with overwhelming internal relief.

She came home — walking bravely despite all the horrors going on…

Her parents had been Evacuated back home from Watford Junction Station anyhow, and all Central London was in a serious Lockdown.

From then on… Well… It just go worse and worse. We were glued to the TV to get as much information as possible about it all. It. Was . Fucking. Terrifying

SN got quite serious PTSD from it… After all, she was thereThat is one seriously Majorheadfuck…

She seems to know how to deal with it well… She has a really, really powerful internal Strength of Will, and bears such a burden with dignity and Strength, despite the Fear and heartbreaking anxiety anything that triggers or reminds her of it… She still carries it with great Power and Grace, in my eyes. 

Not many people understand this. Her parents were kinda there — after all, they themselves were evacuated from London on the train, not being able to get hold of SN and know if she was OK. Not sure if they ever did grasp the reality she was near enough to have been kinda involved in it, too, if she’d have gone any earlier, though….

So, every 7/7 we talk about it. Discuss it. Get our Trauma and Anxieties out to someone who can commiserate and empathise truly. We went through that together. We still go through it together.

The date brings things to the fore too easily, the memories still vivid despite pretty much an entire Decade-and-a-Half having come and gone hence…

It. Just. Hurts…

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