Hi, thought of just sharing my story and everyone else is welcome to share their story on this thread. Hope what I share or say won't offend anyone or violate forum rules.
I currently reside in Asia and has studied briefly in Australia when I was 24 to 25 years old. I've had suicidal ideation since 12 and struggled with anxiety since I was 6, when out of desperation, I used a kitchen knife to fend off punishment for forgetting to complete my homework. I was molested by a fellow classmate at 9 years old in school but back then, my mom was nonchalant towards it when I shared what happened after I returned home from school - she was pregnant and working full-time. So help only came, albeit forced on me when I was 17 and in pre-university. By then, I had already self-harmed for a year.
I foolishly thought those pills would kill me, but it was futile. I thought I'll try to live life to the fullest and gave it my all despite my subsequent academic failures. Missing school and being forced to seek psychiatric help took a toll on my studies but I always tried hard to bounce back. Stigma, however was the one thing that caused me to feel really bad about myself.
Local opportunities to further my studies were forfeited due to my mental health condition. There was no legislation protecting me from losing the offers given on merit and withdrawn subsequently on knowledge that I was sick. In despair, I spiral downward as I struggle to complete my distance learning 3 year degree with an Australian university while working different jobs in between 20 odd hospitalisations for overdosing and self harm attempts. Finally I managed to obtain sufficently good grades to qualify for honours year and worked very hard to save up. An offer was accepted and I then flew to Australia to study for a year full time and by then, I had avoided any hospitalisation for 2 years. I had also been booted out of therapy then and struggled to survive after what my 2nd psychologist had done.
It was both the best and worst year indeed. While the law in the country protected me from disability discrimination and helped ensure equity in education and accommodation, I experienced some of the most shocking discrimination from medical professionals that I've yet to experience in my home country. It was the proverbial 'out of the frying pan, and into the hot oil'. The experience shattered the last remnants of trust that I'll have had in medical professionals, though my experience with L, a psychologist counsellor with a youth service and my academic supervisor, a clinical psychologist by training had helped dealt with the fear that I've had towards this profession. But my resentment had built up and I no longer desire to trust my doctors and on my return back home, I very quickly shed them off as one of them had also forgotten a promise made regarding care arrangements. So, the resentment built up.
I no longer desire to make friends with anyone as I grow older, especially since mistrust has set in.
I've few friends who were there, but only when it suit them. I do hunger for parental love and acceptance but I am coming to terms that I'll likely be the stray dog that's wandering on the streets, unwanted and unloved. My parents have favourites, having had many children and I've lost 'favour'. That often meant isolation and being left alone, especially in the aftermath of heated exchanges and conflicts. I'm the crazy one at home, and sometimes unbeknown to them, their ways and lack of consideration was stressful, given that I find it hard to cope due to having BPD and poor self esteem from having PCOS and minor respiratory difficulties due to sensitive nose and obesity. Nobody in my family knows the medication I was on, the medication I am currently on (hormones from obgyn) and my numerous minor diagnoses. It can be a very lonely walk.
Like some here, I struggle with healthy attachment and coping with boundaries. Concrete clearly established norms within my interactions works to keep my intensity in check, and prevent my friends from being overwhelmed. Because of how I am, I've been cheated before (financially and somewhat sexually), abandoned and it adds to my sense of being a liability in the society I live in.
I dread working full time as I often had to deal with crippling anxiety of being judged based on my mental health condition. I'm hardly the best team-player, and my poor social skills and inability to read social cues often make interactions with those whom I'm not familiar with, difficult at best.
I'm contemplating CTB, but am also worried that there's no justification in my country for me to get SN. Domperidone, however is easy enough.. N is a no go as it's a felony and I know the postal service do check mail coming in for illicit substances - and police can get alerted and then they pounce on the recipients of those stuff, so I'm not keen to touch N.
If I try, I can't fail. If I fail, life will be a living hell... so for now, I'm waiting for my bus, hoping and yet aware that any sentiments from those around indicating that they care are likely superficial. Once I'm too intense, too monstrous, I'll probably be booted out with nary the illusion of being cared for. So, it's a state of limbo - hoping to be cared for, and yet knowing that I will likely lose it all...
Sorry if I am incoherent. Again, feel free to share.. it's a lonely walk I find, and sharing helps alleviate some of the distress, I think.
I currently reside in Asia and has studied briefly in Australia when I was 24 to 25 years old. I've had suicidal ideation since 12 and struggled with anxiety since I was 6, when out of desperation, I used a kitchen knife to fend off punishment for forgetting to complete my homework. I was molested by a fellow classmate at 9 years old in school but back then, my mom was nonchalant towards it when I shared what happened after I returned home from school - she was pregnant and working full-time. So help only came, albeit forced on me when I was 17 and in pre-university. By then, I had already self-harmed for a year.
I foolishly thought those pills would kill me, but it was futile. I thought I'll try to live life to the fullest and gave it my all despite my subsequent academic failures. Missing school and being forced to seek psychiatric help took a toll on my studies but I always tried hard to bounce back. Stigma, however was the one thing that caused me to feel really bad about myself.
Local opportunities to further my studies were forfeited due to my mental health condition. There was no legislation protecting me from losing the offers given on merit and withdrawn subsequently on knowledge that I was sick. In despair, I spiral downward as I struggle to complete my distance learning 3 year degree with an Australian university while working different jobs in between 20 odd hospitalisations for overdosing and self harm attempts. Finally I managed to obtain sufficently good grades to qualify for honours year and worked very hard to save up. An offer was accepted and I then flew to Australia to study for a year full time and by then, I had avoided any hospitalisation for 2 years. I had also been booted out of therapy then and struggled to survive after what my 2nd psychologist had done.
It was both the best and worst year indeed. While the law in the country protected me from disability discrimination and helped ensure equity in education and accommodation, I experienced some of the most shocking discrimination from medical professionals that I've yet to experience in my home country. It was the proverbial 'out of the frying pan, and into the hot oil'. The experience shattered the last remnants of trust that I'll have had in medical professionals, though my experience with L, a psychologist counsellor with a youth service and my academic supervisor, a clinical psychologist by training had helped dealt with the fear that I've had towards this profession. But my resentment had built up and I no longer desire to trust my doctors and on my return back home, I very quickly shed them off as one of them had also forgotten a promise made regarding care arrangements. So, the resentment built up.
I no longer desire to make friends with anyone as I grow older, especially since mistrust has set in.
I've few friends who were there, but only when it suit them. I do hunger for parental love and acceptance but I am coming to terms that I'll likely be the stray dog that's wandering on the streets, unwanted and unloved. My parents have favourites, having had many children and I've lost 'favour'. That often meant isolation and being left alone, especially in the aftermath of heated exchanges and conflicts. I'm the crazy one at home, and sometimes unbeknown to them, their ways and lack of consideration was stressful, given that I find it hard to cope due to having BPD and poor self esteem from having PCOS and minor respiratory difficulties due to sensitive nose and obesity. Nobody in my family knows the medication I was on, the medication I am currently on (hormones from obgyn) and my numerous minor diagnoses. It can be a very lonely walk.
Like some here, I struggle with healthy attachment and coping with boundaries. Concrete clearly established norms within my interactions works to keep my intensity in check, and prevent my friends from being overwhelmed. Because of how I am, I've been cheated before (financially and somewhat sexually), abandoned and it adds to my sense of being a liability in the society I live in.
I dread working full time as I often had to deal with crippling anxiety of being judged based on my mental health condition. I'm hardly the best team-player, and my poor social skills and inability to read social cues often make interactions with those whom I'm not familiar with, difficult at best.
I'm contemplating CTB, but am also worried that there's no justification in my country for me to get SN. Domperidone, however is easy enough.. N is a no go as it's a felony and I know the postal service do check mail coming in for illicit substances - and police can get alerted and then they pounce on the recipients of those stuff, so I'm not keen to touch N.
If I try, I can't fail. If I fail, life will be a living hell... so for now, I'm waiting for my bus, hoping and yet aware that any sentiments from those around indicating that they care are likely superficial. Once I'm too intense, too monstrous, I'll probably be booted out with nary the illusion of being cared for. So, it's a state of limbo - hoping to be cared for, and yet knowing that I will likely lose it all...
Sorry if I am incoherent. Again, feel free to share.. it's a lonely walk I find, and sharing helps alleviate some of the distress, I think.
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