Today I’m remembering a therapy session I had with *Maria a few years back. I hadn’t been diagnosed with BPD or bipolar disorder at the time, although that’s not really what’s important here. I’m just remembering the strangest dilemma I had, and it’s one echoed by several people close to me who, through circumstance or self-development, have made real progress in enhancing their emotional well-being, but were finding that instead of feeling content and happy, their levels of anxiety and even panic were becoming more pronounced the better they got! Talk about a ‘can’t bloody win’ situation! But nonetheless, the feeling of overwhelm, dread and mistrust that came with feelings of increased contentment and happiness were very real.
NB: I wrote this post a few weeks back (it’s now almost July), and am happy to say I am feeling much better than I did here! That’s not to say I’ll never be there again, but right now I’m grateful to be on the up 🙂
Yep. I’m here again. I shouldn’t be surprised to find that I have entered yet another phase of depression considering I have bipolar disorder, and type II at that, but let me tell you – my heart falls through the fucking floor each and every time it becomes so debilitating that I can’t function properly, like it is now. Continue reading
If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that the brain can be an incredibly mutinous organ. Having been in and out of therapy since I was thirteen years old, I am constantly awestruck by the amount of life-changing information my own brain has held back from me; information, in the form of memory, that has quietly dictated my strongest beliefs about life, relationships and the world.