Am I Controlling?

Hey, so I had therapy today, and I must say, the session got really intense.  I didn’t like it, but I guess there was something that needed to be said.  I really don’t trust people and I’m one of the most independent people I know.  My therapist said I was filled with pride and that it was admirable.

However, she tried to get to the root of why I didn’t trust people, and I didn’t want to tell her.  I just didn’t see the need to.  She also said that I seemed to need to have a control of some situations, and it bothered me.

I mean, me?  Controlling?  I’m not controlling.  I’m anxious, yes, but that doesn’t mean that I’m all of that controlling.  I just don’t like being put in situations, so I avoid them at the most.  I don’t open up to people because “I am afraid of being let down.”  No, I’m afraid of them being the kind of person that gossips about me.  So, I avoid talking to people.

She also said that I am experiencing an increased amount of depression right now.  She made me promise that I would do something loving to myself tonight, and I don’t know what to do.  After today’s therapy session, I feel like more of a monster than anything.  I don’t know how to love myself.  I don’t even know if I should be loved, and that’s why I don’t know if I should have a boyfriend right now.  Or ever, to be honest.

But yeah, I feel beyond crappy right now.  I feel like today’s session really did set me off in ways that it shouldn’t have.

I’m giving up with myself. {Trigger Warning}

Today is going to be a depressing post, so please bear with me.

I’ve hurt myself for the 3rd time within a week. I feel like crap and the only thing that helps me is showering and cutting. I completely ignored my boyfriend’s texts tonight, and I still feel awful for breaking something out of rage.

My mom is noticing something is wrong with me because I can’t bring myself to smile tonight. I feel awful.

I just want to cry and hurt myself again. I thought the meds were supposed to cure me…

Abnormal Psych is Making Sense Among Other Things.

Hi, guys!

So, I was sitting through abnormal psychology, and I was learning about different approaches to therapy.  Needless to say, I understand my therapist better.  She works in the realm of the CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy).  It’s basically talk about things, think about things and learn how to correct some harmful behaviors.  It’s helped me a lot over the year, and I think it’s rather effective.

However, there’s a little bit of humanistic tendencies.  It means she echos what I say at times, and then I can think about it, verify or deny the thought, or expand the thought.  It’s also when she empathizes with me, and I like that quality.  Just to know that what I’m going through is something others understand/go through is helpful.

Anyways, in other news, I feel like there is a possibility that I’m misdiagnosed.  It’s because the nurse that I had was terrible at his job.  He could’ve said I have bipolar disorder when I really have something else.  I want to get another disorder screening done so that I can see if anything has changed from my original diagnosis (depression).  If I do have bipolar, schizoaffective disorder, or borderline personality disorder, I suppose that it’s alright with me.  It’ll be a little harder to take it if I have one of the last 2.

The scariest thing is that this person has lied in the documentation of my records, so that means that he has technically committed a crime.  This is why I want to go through another test.  I never trusted this guy, and I don’t now.

But yeah, that’s what’s happened today.

“You worry too much, Kayla.”

Ok, I thought this was something that was untrue and I laughed it off, but apparently it’s true.  My anxiety is showing through recent events.

First, my mother got hurt, and I couldn’t help but make sure she was alright.  I told her to “be careful” about 20 times, and I’m not really exaggerating. Then, my sibling had to get their wisdom teeth extracted, and I’m doing the same thing again.  I have to make sure he’s alright.

Some people would say that I’m caring, but I’m afraid they aren’t alright and that they might get sicker. Maybe this is because I don’t want them to die. I know, it’s sounding irrational, but I do not handle death well, and seeing anyone uncomfortable is freaking me out. It’s not because of blood or them being in pain, it’s something else that I can’t seem to put my finger on.

I need to work on this with my therapist, and thank God I see her this Thursday.  But, part of me is hesitant to bring this up. Once again, I don’t know why… I’m just realizing that I’m becoming a nervous wreck.

Panic Attacks.

I had a panic attack at church today. (Yes, I have to go to church, but I find that some of the sermons help me as well.) You want to know why?

My boyfriend’s brother (mind you, the both of them live about 2 hours away) had appeared in the church I attend.  I assumed that he brought my boyfriend along.  Then, I panicked because of my relapses (I relapsed again, but it wasn’t all that bad), then I realized I had no control over the situation…  So I entered a state of panic and like I smothered myself in the crowd of people that was there.

So, what really kind of set me off was being guilty that I cut and that my boyfriend could have possibly been there. I’m still really anxious, and I’m still freaking out about it, but considering I’ve taken my anxiety meds today and doubled them because I needed it, I’m not supposed to freak out.

It’s scaring me now, and I don’t know what to do.  I also figured that I was hallucinating again, and it was just all me. I’m not sure if I’m going insane, but I’m really scared. I don’t know.

Finally Found My Religion.

So, here’s a warning: if you are not open-minded to religion or spirituality, I highly suggest you skip over this post.  It may be touchy for some people as well. I am not trying to push my religion on anyone. I’m just blogging about it because I can.

There. Now that I’ve got that out of the way, I suppose I can talk about my religion and why it was so hard to find it.

I was a Christian, and what really bothered me was that I felt guilty all of the time.  I felt guilty for experimenting with religions like Buddhism, and I always cried a whole lot.  It’s because of that guilt that I called myself a Christian.  I felt anxious because I had to go to church and that made me feel even more worthless.  Needless to say, this whole religion did nothing but strike fear in me.  It didn’t help my depression and it didn’t help my anxiety.

Now, I experimented with Wicca, which is a branch of Paganism.  I loved that religion.  I suppose that it helped my mental state of psychosis really well.  I meditated, which helped my anxiety and depression.  I felt a certain connection with it. It’s hard to explain… But I really did like it.

Actually, I like it so much that I’m switching to it.  I think it’s a wise decision, in my opinion.  Religion is supposed to better you, not make you feel worthless inside.

Moods Are All Over The Place.

Alright, so 2 days ago, I was sad.  Yesterday, I was nervous and tensed up in public. This morning, I was anxious, and now, I feel fine.  This is something that is really new and I’ve noticed that they’re a little more severe than what I’m used to.  I still feel empty, but it wasn’t as bad as a couple of days ago.

This is totally not bipolar disorder. Bipolar disorder is about mania and depression… It’s not about anxiety or emptiness.  It’s not about being unable to make up your mind and being extremely impulsive, even when your meds are working efficiently.  It’s scaring me.

So, if this isn’t bipolar disorder, then what is it?

The Day After.

I guess I feel a little better after what happened last night.  Mostly, I feel guilty.  I feel selfish.  I feel horrible.  It took me all I could do to text my boyfriend and sound the way I usually do.  That made me feel worse because he thinks I’m better.  He thinks I have just bipolar disorder, and I can’t tell him that it’s worse than that.  He’d say that it’s okay, and I’d have to say that it’s not.  So, there’s no use in worrying him.

I’m feeling empty, which is still concerning me.  I thought about skipping my anxiety pill this morning, but I didn’t.  I didn’t really want to talk to family, so I’m trying to stay my distance away from them.

I can’t smile all that much.  I can’t sound cheery.  I just want to be left alone and isolated from friends and family.  I like the community here more than anything else.  I’m not attention-seeking, but I feel like people care about me on here.  It’s such a difference than in real life.

I remember I relapsed in high school, and my friends at the time kind of told me not to do that… They didn’t bother asking what was wrong or anything.  But here, I feel like people are hugging me and asking questions to make sure I’m alright. I appreciate it. Honestly, I do.

I Relapsed. {Trigger Warning}

This is the weirdest feeling I’ve had today, and I can’t tell if it’s good or bad.  I just feel like it shouldn’t be good, but then again, why does it feel kind of positive…?

Anyways, I guess I got bothered by the extremely empty feeling I’ve had all day.  I couldn’t smile.  I couldn’t relate to others.  I just sat in a classroom and stared at teachers all day, and with the combination of the Risperidal and the Hydroxizine working, the emptiness persisted at me.  I don’t know what to make of it.

I cried a lot and then I basically said that I couldn’t handle feeling empty… So what did I do?  I hurt myself to prove that I could feel something.  All I wanted was to know that I’m not a robot.  I guess you could say that I’m not totally happy, but I went from self-hatred to okay.  Not great. Not fabulous. Just okay.

Of course, I’m scared.  There’s been times when I’ve hurt myself 3 days in a row, then found anywhere from 80-100 cuts on myself.  The last time, I left some scars… And if I’m not mistaken, I may end up with some more from this time.  It bothers me that I haven’t found anything else to cope with.  Sure, this blog helps me vent, which lets me put off all of my desires to run a blade through my skin.  Sometimes that helps.  It didn’t help tonight, though.

And what I find worse — like I said before — is that my family is ignoring me more and more.  I remember cuts on my wrist before.  My mom and sibling didn’t pay attention to them.  Only my friends did.  My boyfriend doesn’t know that I found a new spot that’s hidden from view, so he thinks everything is alright. I don’t really have any friends.  I feel so alone, like I’m screaming and I’m just ignored.  I want someone to help me so bad.  I want someone to listen.  I’m afraid that if I don’t find someone to confide in, I’m going to end up hurting myself to the point of attempting suicide.

If anything, I guess I made this post because I’m crying for help.  And I hope someone listens to me on here.  This is all I’ve got.