In Treatment
Discovering the ins and outs of treatments and therapies. Join the conversation today.
Living with BPD
I’ve struggled with my mental health for as long as I can remember. I have always realised that I was “different” from everyone else but couldn’t quite work out why. As a child, I didn’t follow the crowd, I did my own thing, and that suited me just fine. I was bullied severely throughout primary school which damaged me more than I originally thought. I had a “Day Dreamer Chart” at school because I was never able to keep focused.
By Leia Waller8 years ago in Psyche
Pain Words Cannot Express
Pain Words Cannot Express “I’m not hungry,” I would say with conviction as I stared at my dinner plate and felt my stomach grumble. This had become my catchphrase when I was a young teenager, and most of the time, I could get away with it. It was easy to skip breakfast on a school day—I could slip out the front door to catch the bus before anyone else was awake and could monitor my eating. During lunch hour I would lie to my friends and say I snacked on my lunch throughout my classes and was no longer hungry. Dinner by far was the hardest to get around, with both my parents and all four sisters carefully observing my dinner plate. If I was lucky, I could serve up my own food in tiny portions. But when my mom finally suggested to me that I might have anorexia nervosa, I was in denial. I felt there was nothing that could set me free of the trial I was being devoured by, especially since I wouldn’t admit my own weaknesses. That was, at least, until I was introduced to art therapy. Finally, through this process of self-expression, I was directed down a path where I accepted my eating disorder and reached out for the help I so desperately needed. Because of this experience, I have since learned the benefits of using art in recovery, and am a strong advocate of it. Art therapy should be used in every anorexia treatment because it easily connects the patients inner-turmoil to verbal expression. I believe this is an exercise than can benefit anyone struggling with an eating disorder.
By Marissa Garner8 years ago in Psyche
Therapy Isn't Selfish. Top Story - April 2018.
Recently, someone boldly announced that therapy was senseless in that it was simply a time where the patient got to talk about themselves for an hour. They went on to imply that this was a selfish act by saying things like, "If you're a person that needs to pay someone to listen to you talk about yourself for an hour... *shrugs* that just seems weird and unnecessary." I didn't know what to say...so I didn't say anything, and then I felt even worse.
By Francis Grace8 years ago in Psyche
Fighting ED
On February 21, 2018 I started a program to take back my life from my eating disorder. I had my ED for about a year without even realizing. I was so down on my body and thought the only way to change that was to make myself throw up. Throughout the years, I tried to restrict more and more — not allowing myself to have certain foods, and if I did making sure that I was purging right after. My mom eventually caught on, she asked and asked if I have ever purged and I told her that I would never do that. I began lying to myself. Just one more time, I told myself. I became depressed and didn’t want to go anywhere because if I did I would be forced to eat in front of people which is something that made me feel very uncomfortable. I truly believed that I had it under control. I weighed myself multiple times throughout the day and would lie to my mom about it. I began to feel more and more dizzy and felt ashamed of the way I looked. I felt more depressed and felt like I was lying to the people I loved. I had completely shut down.
By 8 years ago in Psyche
Living with Borderline Personality Disorder – Rx Me Good, Part 2
Happy New Year to me. My plate was full. In fact, it was MORE than full—it was overflowing. With my son in kindergarten, me working 6.5 hours a day while being in online college courses, trying to balance my fitness goals as well as keeping my home life/personal relationships stable—the universe was weighing on my shoulders. Normally, this pressure would have been MORE than enough to break me down, but in a relieving turn of events, the medicine my psychiatrist prescribed to me was WORKING. No longer was I waking up in the dead of night in a panic. I could answer the phone without my heart racing and my fear rising into my throat. No longer were my actions and emotions unpredictable; my mind was clear and suddenly I was able to experience life in a way that I had always dreamed of—without dread, without hopelessness, without fear.
By Jess Didway8 years ago in Psyche
Dealing With Mental Health Issues
Growing up, I always struggled in school. There was never a year where I could just sit back and relax and not have to worry about failing all my classes. I was "diagnosed" with a learning disability at a young age, though, so I was able to get the extra help that I needed, but it was definitely never enough. I also struggled at home, constantly forgetting to do chores or small tasks my mom would ask me to do and I would always get in trouble for it. I was never the kid to talk back to their parents. My mother wouldn’t tolerate it if I tried anyways, but it wasn’t like I was a bad kid. The only times I would get in trouble was me just "forgetting" about something either at home or at school.
By Sarah Burr8 years ago in Psyche
My Days with Anxiety
Everyone has a bit of anxiety in their lives. It can be something simple like a test coming up or something complex like asking yourself, “What if I’m a minute late to homeroom?” That question used to get it started every morning. If I was a minute late to homeroom then the door would be closed, if the door was closed I’d have to knock, if I have to knock then everyone will look to see who knocked. That question punched me in the stomach 45 minutes before my alarm every morning and punched harder if I dared to try and sleep more. It started when I was in 7th grade. I honestly thought I was just dying at times. I had no idea what this constant pain was when eyes were on me or why I was doomed to never fully sleep, a doctor took a look at me and declared it an ulcer. Omeprazole can’t clear omnipresent dreams.
By Ciri Katora8 years ago in Psyche
Nervousness
The decision to see a therapist was not an easy one to make. It was a constant nudge in the back of my brain for months until a rough night of insomnia forced me to finally make the call, and wait anxiously. Once the day came for me to sit in front of this welcoming stranger, chosen for me by an in-take specialist, a tremendous amount of guilt pounded in my body. I began to shiver, like I was cold, though the Arizona temperature was a comfortable sixty degrees for January. This feeling I knew well. If you were ever sitting right next to me when this reaction appeared, you'd never know. It was a very internal environment. And it was ruining my life.
By Jacqueline Tomlinson8 years ago in Psyche
Coping with Social Anxiety
According to Mayo Clinic, social anxiety disorder (also known as social phobia) is essentially the feelings of nervousness, such as anxiety, fear, and self-consciousness, during everyday interactions. The most common being the fear of being judged or scrutinized by other people.
By Monte brogdon8 years ago in Psyche
My OCD and Me
Anyone who has ever had OCD knows just how cruel it can be. The way it robs you of your happiness and your time, the way it makes you feel like you're going mad and isolates you from the world. What I find the most unbearable, though, is knowing that your worst enemy is inside your head. You can't run away from something that is a part of you.
By Elizabeth Vogel8 years ago in Psyche
How Anti-Depressants Gave Me Back My Life
I had my first anxiety attack when I was ten-years-old. I had just eaten a piece of cake and gone to bed. My mom wasn’t home, but my dad was downstairs watching television, and both my older siblings were asleep. All of a sudden, my stomach churned, and I felt like I was going to throw up. I immediately sat up, fear and nausea pulsing through me with equal force. Eventually the wave of nausea quieted, but the fear I had experienced with the nausea did not. The act of throwing up had always upset me (as it does many people), but for some reason, on this night, that one wave of nausea triggered something inside of me that would change my relationship to the world forever. I went downstairs to my dad and sat on the couch watching television with him until my mom came home, my whole body paralyzed with fear at the thought of throwing up.
By Katja Alexandra8 years ago in Psyche
