Oh No... It's Grumpy Raznay! ARGHHHHHH!!

As the title suggest I was grumpy. Oh boy was I grumpy over the weekend. I think I might have sprouted horns, some green skin and possibly a wart or two on my nose. It was pretty hideous.

However hideous my grumpy mood may have been, part of it was a reaction to the training I was doing to become a mental illness educator. It was meant to be a two day training course. I did not return for the second day.

Let me clarify this a little bit with a little bit of background.

I've been around bullies, abusers and generally nasty people my whole life. I am used to feeling out of place, unloved, uncared for and am completely used to being the scapegoat which people use to make themselves feel better. I don't like the circumstances I've been in and I sure as hell don't keep people around me who treat me like that, now.

I've been in psychiatric wards, both private and public, and have been around some rather interesting characters who, at times, made me feel a bit uncomfortable. Yet even in a psych ward, I have never felt "out of place" or "different" because of my illness. I've never had like-minded people around me make me feel like a freak or a pathetic waste of time.

Let's fast forward to Saturday. I went along to training. I was nervous. I didn't want to see a particular person and hoped that she would not get there. She was. Okay, so I took a deep breath, said to myself that she deserved it too and I shouldn't be such a condescending bitch.

I was doing okay until the point where she said "if you don't have hope you shouldn't be here." Yep, that one flippant comment hit me right were it hurts the most because I was already feeling very vulnerable, out of my depth and I felt more like a freak amongst those people than I have among "normal" people.

The day was very full on. My anxiety sky rocketed to a point where I couldn't think and was no longer taking in what they were teaching us. As a result my back, shoulders and thighs are so sore at the moment from being tensed from 9am to 5pm. Yes, I spent the entire day in a state of readiness for flight.

Anyway, people talked, we talked about stories and personal experiences. I felt for the struggles everyone has been through and felt their joy when they were able to say "now I know how to manage it". What I wasn't expecting was for EVERYONE there to be passed the stage I am. I am not at any kind of management stage of my disorder, illness, craziness.

The realisation that I was alone in how I was feeling and my circumstances hit me hard. In fact I think it actually managed to knock the wind out of me.

All of these people had families, friends who stood by them and who remained friends, they found treatment, found psychiatrists, psychologists and other doctors to help them. These people have hope, have a real support network.

My situation seems to be remarkably unique. I don't like that THIS is what I'm "special" for. I have no one. No one will rock up at my house and be like "hey, time to chill out with me" or anything remotely resembling HUMAN CONTACT.

I became very aware of the lack of people I have whom I can talk to. Again, I mean face to face, I mean really trust and really talk to. Not just say a few words and then be subjected to "this is what you should do" speeches.

The other thing that became absolutely and heart breakingly apparent was the depth of my story, the depth of my pain and the total reality that it really is THAT bad. I don't talk about my personal story on here much, one day I might be able to write it all, for the moment there really is too much to even know where to begin documenting it.

My story encapsulates my entire life. My entire life I have been sick. Not just part of my life, not a point in my life, not "episodic" moments. My ENTIRE LIFE. (Yeah that's not a big thing for you guys reading this, for me, it's devastating.)

As far as the people at training... I was the only one with BPD (borderline personality disorder) and I keenly felt the stigma aimed at me. This was meant to be a place where we talked about reducing stigma and yet I have never been in a situation where I have been honest with my diagnosis and then been subjected to such... separation. It became apparent that I did not fit in, that I was just "too hard" to deal with or talk to or be around. It was quite horrible. I've never felt like that around people who suffer from a mental illness or carers of people who have/do suffer mental illness.

This hostility towards me because of my current position in the "treatment scale" (or whatever you'd like to call it) and my diagnosis was startling and scary.

By the time 5pm came along I had to consciously tell myself to just walk to my bag, slowly pick it up and slowly walk from the building. I think most of my tensed muscles actually got worse at this point.

I decided, after a sleepless night on Saturday night, that I did not want to be around people who clearly saw me and my diagnosis as "too hard" and "evil" and all the other stigma that gets thrown at them. It wasn't an easy decision. I want to educate people about mental illness. I want to talk about my experiences and show people what happens when you don't get help when you first think there's something not quite right. I want to reach out to even one person and show them it's okay, you're not alone.

When I had finally decided that I just wasn't of the right illness (and that is exactly how I felt and was made to feel) and that I wouldn't be going back, my muscles began to relax and I fell asleep at 7am on Sunday morning. I couldn't even sleep after taking my sleeping medication. That is a big warning sign there.

So, my faith in the human race as a whole is completely gone. Here were people who were meant to be like-minded, having suffering from a mental illness, who ostracised me because I was "too" sick for them.

I'll be honest, it hurts. It hurts more than I can truly express.

I learnt this weekend that I am a freak, that stigma is rife among the people who are meant to be helping to reduce it and that my "story", my life has been far more horrible than I think I ever realised.

I have to ask, why should I bother?

An Insiders View of Mental Illness

This is a much more personal entry. I thought about putting it in myjournal, but think it might be best to share it in my Mental Health Blog. Some people who read the blog don't have any kind of mental disorder and don't know how the mood changes, circumstances and just life can affect one such as me.

At first I was travelling along the recovery road okay, a few bumps and little pebbles occassionally getting in the way, but nothing major to derail my little wagon. Then one day the weather changed and the clouds came rolling in, dark mean clouds filled with thunder, lightening and hail. At first I thought I would be able to make it to some shelter before the storm hit, but as I tried to pull my wagon along the road the heavens opened and rain came crashing to the ground. The road I was trying to hurry along turned to mud and my wagon got stuck; no matter how hard I pushed or pulled it was stuck. I fell over a couple of times trying to get my wagon to move again, and each time I got back up and tried to keep going.

Finally the rain turned to heavy drops, the temperature declined and those heavy drops turned into hail. The storm was finally over head. I looked at my wagon, sighed, and left it in the middle of the road while running off to search for shelter.

People watched from their doorways, or peeped out through their windows, but no one stopped to help me. Finally I found shelter, but it was too late. I was soaked, bruised and battered from the hail. I was filled with anger because no one helped and I wasn't good enough to move my wagon on my own. I sat down in the mud and cried, wishing that I had something with which to end my life.

This little story won't mean much to most people. It is the few people who do understand my story that I feel for and want to help in any way I can.

For those that don't understand it, let me write it in a plain way which might help you understand what I'm actually talking about.

Over the last few days (as far as I can tell it's been about a week) my mood has slowly been going down. I've been losing incentive to do all the things I wanted to do and I have felt more tired than usual. Mys leeping pattern started to go a little haywire and, as such, my routine got thrown to the sideline. For someone with a mental illness routine and healthy sleep patterns are pretty much gold. The routine is to help maintain movement and actions (like getting up, making breakfast, having a shower, going to work) and the sleep pattern is paramount to being able to rest the body (and therefore mind) so it is easier to continue the routine.

As my mood has been going down, so has my patience, tolerance and ability to keep my anxiety under control. Instead I have become grumpy, mean, frightened and unable to move (lethargic). The decrease of movement also makes me angry at myself for not being able to control my body and not being able to control my disorder. This is unhealthy. I can't "control" my disorder, I can only manage it. So that starts another bout of anger at not being able to manage and therefore control my disorder.

Confused yet?

As well as the mood. other circumstances have taken place (beyond my control) which have affected me extremely deeply and caused a further descent into darkness. Some of my friends will have seen the abusive text message I received , but probably didn't realise it was what actually pushed me over the edge of the cliff.

People can be cruel and think that harming others is the way to make them feel better. It's not any way to behave and I don't take kindly to being physically threatened. (Which leads me to ponder why I that person who sent me the text message would think physical violence would solve anything? I mean, I wish to not exsist, so being threatened doesn't actually scare me. To be honest I see it as a challenge into making that other person even more angry so they do the job properly.)

Anyway, after receiving the ovely messaged my faith in people started to shatter. Not just because of one person, but because this one person is just another body to the already numerous ones that have proven to me time and time again that people are cruel and do not care about anything other than themselves.

My faith in humanit ybeing cracked, I tried to ignore it, remind myself not everyone is like that and just get on with it. I went to the shopping centre the other day to get my eyebrows waxed. Yes, I take pleasure in the pain caused by waxing because it is something "normal" people do.

I was walking through the centre to the beauty salon, when I fell. I fell badly and my things went sprawling all over the floor. My ankle was twisted badly, my knee on the verge of dislocation and my wrist sprained. Not one person stopped to help me or ask if I was okay. Nevermind that there was a crack, thud and the sound of stuff sliding along the floor. Nevermind the woman standing about two metres away from me watching it all with an amused grin on her face.

I immediately had to wonder: "If I was thin and pretty would everyone have jumped to my aid". The only answer I can come up with is "YES".

I picked everything up, myself included, and hobbled (ankle was twisted very badly) the few steps to the beauty salon. My humiliation and anger complete I nearly had a panic attack while laying on the bed thing to get my eyebrows ripped out of my head.

Where is the kindness people assure me is there? Am I not worthy of said kindness? If so, why am I not worthy? If someone fell in front of me (and they have in the past), I would (and have) go to their aid to make sure they're okay. I have never (and would never) just stand there smirking at someone else's misfortune.

Does that mean I am an easy target for users because I at least try to care about other people and to try and put them first and help them if I can??

The whole situation makes me so angry still. The bruises and strains I've now got only further my anger at the cruelty, rude, arrogant bastards that think it's okay to watch someone fall and not help.

If YOU were one of those people who just watched, I pity you. I pity you because you have no decency, no morality and surely no conscience. It is NOT FUNNY to see someone else in pain. Physical or otherwise.

You have no right to treat people in such a disgusting way. Would YOU like them to treat you that way? No, I didn't think so.

Sorry, anger back under check.

My faith in humanity is assuredly destroyed. People only seem to care online, because they needn't do anything but write. They do not need to be there, to hug, to hold, to listen or to hear. They can just respond and feel like they've achieved something.

Sometimes they do, it is ALWAYS nice to hear good things and know that people care. What I am now having trouble with is believing that these people really care, or if they're just doing their duty to keep karma off their backs.

(I realise there are probably spelling errors, I will correct them later. No need to email me or message me to point them out.)

ENOUGH!!!!

I have a bloggy thing on Opera.com. This isn't a secret, I think I even have the link posted on my links page (I have a bad memory okay!) Opera.com is quite a nice site thing, nice layouts and I am always being asked for friendship! This part is all great and I love it!

The part that's not so great is that there are so many males from overseas that seem to think I am a piece of meat!

From their profiles and whom they have asked to befriend I can only guess that I am not the only woman who is being subjected to this rather disgusting behaviour.

The top questions that I am asked by every male who sends me a private message are:

1. Are you married?

No I'm not married. I'm 25 years old for crying out loud!!!!Like someone as picky, crazy and weird as me would actually find someone who can cope with my erratic (and at times hurtful) behaviour!!Oh and someone whom I like in return. Apparently some guy I went to high school with says he loves me and has since high school. While this would be lovely to believe it's just not in my nature to believe anything positive and therefore makes his admission somewhat hard to tolerate, as I interpret it as a straight out lie.

Anyway, I'm not married, I don't actually think I want to be married. Why are you going to ask for my hand? Pfft.

2. Do you have kids?

Right, where the hell do I start on this one!?

Let's start with the obvious shall we? I am SICK. I have some pretty disturbing mental health problems and while I am (hopefully) proving one can still live with the problems, I don't think I am anywhere near healthy enough to support and care for a child.

Also I don't want kids. Personal choice here, some people reading this will know why, others won't. Unfortunately this area is something I really don't wish to discuss, so this is one area that won't eventually have an entry in my journal or in the Soap Box. Sorry.

Oh,then there's the part about me not wanting to be married, so if we think about this logically (I know it's hard, but bear with me here),if I don't want to be married because I can't find someone whom I like who can put up with me, what makes you think I would have copulated with someone to produce an offspring?!?!?!?!

Really, I didn't think it would be that hard to figure out. Maybe I just think differently? *shrugs*

3. What is your religion?

*insert hysterical laughter here*

Sorry, I have to laugh otherwise I would go on for days about it.

I do not believe in God. I am not Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist orany other kind of religion. I'm agnostic. That means that I believe in something, but not necessarily God.

I do respect others views and their beliefs. If that is what makes a person happy then by all means I will not degrade them or belittle them for their beliefs.

What I get angry about is that those same people don't have the decency to return that respect. Instead I am then bombarded with "why don't you believe in God?" or (my favourite) "You're going to go to hell". Can I just say that if I don't believe in God, what makes you think I'm going to believe in Satan!? *shakes head*

Is there something there that I'm missing??

4. What kind of things do you like?

Among all the questions, this one kind of tends to irritate me the most. I have a profile which states my age, name, where I am from and oh my god would you look at that, a WHOLE SECTION called FAST FACTS!!

Then there's a section About Me and My Work!

I guess reading the profile and deducing what one likes from it is a little hard? Maybe it's the lost in translation thing. Okay so maybe I should be nicer.

*grumbles* I'll try.

5. Can we be friends? Like REALLY good friends?

How can we be "really good friends" when I don't even know you nor you I!?

Isn't the whole point of adding friends meant to be getting to know them!?!?!

What are "really good friends" anyway? What do they do?

Is that some kind of code for "can I marry you so I can move to Australia and live with you?" or something? I'm starting to think these blokes are getting Australia confused with America... Unless they've found out how hard it is to become a permanent resident of America?

As mean as it sounds I do believe these men are only interested in learning about me to gain access to my country and what they perceive as "freedom". Some aren't as obvious as others, but unfortunately they ultimately give themselves away by asking the married question or (another favourite) "what's Australia like?"

Speaking of that particular question, it really annoys me when they ask that. I mean Australia is huge! What kind of answer do they want? "Oh yeah I'll just drive around this great country that I call home and ask my mates down the pub!" I mean come on, I don't ask how their country is!! If I'm so inclined I ask about their town and/or city. You know, their local vicinity, the place which they live in that they can actually talk about...

Maybe I'm just no good at tapping into my inner Aussie psychic stream?

Now having said ALL this and ranting on for what appears to be hours, I need to explain one more thing. The main reason these questions annoy me from these random and strange men is, well, they have absolutely no idea that I am totally not a catch. Basically they think that I'm some gorgeous Aussie model or something even though I never once suggest anything of the kind. I even have photo's of me in all my bigger-girl gloriousness (is that even a word?! eh is now!) which clearly show I am fat and ugly and nothing like Elle Macpherson or Lara Bingle. (The latter is more obvious to believe as I think I actually have a brain whereas Ms Bingle, um, I think her's got lost somewhere along the line. Oops!)

So really, it insults me because having seen my pictures and clearly seen what I really look like (argh run away), the only possible explanation as to why they are "pursuing" me is to butter me up so I will fall madly in love with each of them and demand the government to let each man come and live with me because my life will not be complete without every single one of them.

I think it's time I start being subjective as to whom I accept as a friend on Opera.com.

A Bit of a Whine

By the title alone if you read this and then comment about it being a rant or a whinge then dude, it's your own fault.

I hate weekends, mostly because it means I don't have the house to myself and can pretend I'm totally okay and in control and able to look after myself.

Yes, okay, so that's a bit of a fantasy as I don't eat until parental unit comes home with food, I inevitably fall asleep watching the idiot box because I just can't keep my eyes open any longer... and well... I kind of have to remind myself to shower and dress.

Anyway, I have something akin to freedom for the majority of the day and I love it. Sometimes it's boring and sometimes I want the company and blah blah blah, but for the most part I guess I'm so used to being on my own that I actually get annoyed when I'm not left alone. Yep, I am screwed up!

So, this weekend has been kind of good but mostly bad. Both parental unit and I are sick. Some viral thing I'm guessing. I can honestly say I have never felt pain like it and hope I don't feel it again. My tummy and back and neck and arms and EVERYTHING hurt. It was like having cramps all over my body that NEVER let up. It was horrible. I got the worst part of it last night and even wrote on twitter that I was dying. It felt like dying. Or at least how I imagine dying would feel like when it's painful.

I don't mind getting sick, you know the odd cold here and there and (of course) the occasional migraine. But seriously, to have endure MORE PAIN than I already create for myself is cruel. See, this is another perfect example of why I don't believe in God. If there is meant to be this holy power and this being who loves us so much, why let us suffer? Okay, I understand it's for learning purposes, but what am I learning about suffering with a mental illness and then to have some kind of sick bug thing to make my mental pain physical (which, thanks for asking, I am quite good at doing myself since there is so much pain for me it does actually manifest into physical pain. Great hey!? -_-).

Anyway, I'm not going to rant about the cruelty of something which I don't believe in, sorry to anyone that does, I respect that you do and hope you will respect my decision and choice not to believe in something/someone I see as cruel.

Anyway.. again.. I kept thinking over and over last night that "you people made me stay alive FOR THIS?" I actually felt (okay still feel) betrayed that I wasn't allowed to do what I wanted and now have to feel the most extreme and intense physical pain. Hell, what is the damn point? It's cruel. I am actually thinking it's bordering on the insane punishment, sadistic-type behaviour. *insert dramatic pout here*

Well... that's my ranty ramble for today. I am sulking, if you couldn't tell, and again if you have a problem with this, dude you shouldn't have kept reading after the title!!! The full responsibility falls on you for having continued reading. Hmph.

Yep, sulking isn't my cutest feature, but I feel some of my sulking is justified... maybe... just a little bit... please?

A Break in the Noise

I haven't written a lot on here in the last couple of days. I fear I have neglected my duties as a good host, please forgive me.

My last journal entry revealed my severe lack of confidence in both my abilites and my determination to make this site sucessful. I have thought a lot about it during my small absence and have come to realise that my mental illness is actually able to take over my entire being and speak through me. That may sound a little strange, I apologise to those who are currently wondering what the hell I am talking about. Let me attempt to explain this here properly.

We all have an inner voice which guides us, which we hear when we think etc. Some people call it their conscience, I'm a little less sure mine would be classed as a conscience given that mine is rather horrible and self destructive.

Anyway, some people are even able to differentiate between their positive voice and their negative voice (I'm trying to keep this really simple, it's a little more complicated than this, so apologies to those who know what I'm talking about).

My "negative" voice has been shaped and is controlled by my mental illness (borderline personality disorder, depression and anxeity), which means that the voice is always negative towards me. This voice is the one that screams its abuse at me whenever I try and do anything. (Yes, indeed, even getting up out of bed usually results in conflict because "negative" would rather see me stay in bed and be pathetic.)

To some degree everyone has this negative voice, when we feel self doubt, self loathing or even lack of confidence. It's this voice that whispers something which makes you freeze up, panic, get angry, cry or even just hide. However, most people are able to control this feeling and either do whatever it is they're told they can't do or just ignore the voice altogether.

Other people, like myself, have heard this voice for so long it actually drowns out the positive voice. I think the negative voice has actually thrown my positive voice into a locked box inside my head where it can't even be heard. I don't even have positive thoughts towards myself at all. Perhaps in a journal entry I will spend time writing down what my negative voice tells me.

The point of this post today is to let you know that, sometimes, those of us who are sick really do think differently and feel differently to other people. A lot of what I think and feel, others do not. A lot of the things I think about myself are not shared by others, even if I expect them to be. While I might know these things it's a different matter entirely to believe these things.

If you feel that your "negative" voice is taking over, have a talk with someone you feel comfortable with and ask them if they think the same things about you.

Bear in mind it may not mean you have a mental illness, sometimes we all just need a little help to bring the negative things under control.

A Fine Line Between Right and Wrong

This article was actually put on news.com.au yesterday (10th August 2009) but it's taken me about 24 hours to decide if I would write something about it.

Indeed I wrote a comment on the site, but it wasn't published. *Cries* Although I assume it wasn't published because I have attempted suicide and therefore I am not one to be able to comment on this particular story?

Anyway the article is about 60 Minutes (TV program here in Australia) fighting for the right to air a segment dealing with 4 teen suicides in Geelong, Victoria. Click here to read the article (it's not long so don't worry!)

I won't go into more detail about the article, hopefully you'll read it which makes my response here a little more understandable.

Please also take note of the comments, or some of them anyway. I found that a lot of the comments made me rather angry and even more determined to write this little article here.

First of all let me state clearly that I don't think suicide should be "swept under the carpet". I think there should be discussion and awareness about suicide baring in mind that suicide on its own is usually the last resort of someone who feels that there's nothing left.

So yes, by all means raise awareness of suicide, but keep in mind there are many other factors that lead up to suicide. Wouldn't PREVENTION therefore be better than airing a segment on 60 Minutes to glorify suicide?

I completely understand that parents, family and friends want to know WHY. I would want to know why if someone in my family took their own life. The problem I have is that there are many (and I seriously mean many) organisations that help the FAMILIES of people who have commited suicide. These organisations do not glorify suicide nor do they give the parents false understanding and hope. They are there to support and explain the circumstances, thought processes and even behaviours leading up to suicide.

BeyondBlue, Headspace and Sane.org are just three such organisations I can think of off the top of my head that also help families and friends of people with mental illness and those who take their own lives.

The crux of the matter, for me, is that people (like myself) who are prone to suicidal thoughts and even actions are actually encouraged by actually seeing others take their own lives. For myself, I don't even have to know the person to feel some kind of deep connection to them and their pain, and their actions allow me to think that it would be okay for me to take my own life. It comes down to: If they can do it, then so can I.

This little gem of information is a proven fact among medical professionals.

I expressed an intense desire to attempt suicide while I was in a psychiatric ward during a "high risk" time. The nurse I spoke to assured me that they wouldn't allow me to do it because "you could start a chain reaction of other patients following your footsteps." At the time I was hurt that she wasn't actually concerned with my safety, but now I understand that my safety also ensures the safety of those around me. Complicated isn't it?

Anyway, the point is, if suicide is shown on national TV it will increase the cases and risk of suicide among those who are already feeling the pull towards it. I'm sorry to be blunt, but it's a fact.

If the story was published as an article, or was even aired on something much more substantial than 60 Minutes, the impact might be considerably less.

It's a very fine line between being right and being wrong. I don't think suicide should be just forgotten and never talked about, but at the same time it's not something that should be glorified, condensed or moulded to fit into a 20 minute segment. Let's be honest here, it's a topic that is far more involved than 60 Minutes can cope with these days.

Please take into consideration the risk involved with overly publicising suicide. It is there, it does happen, but it's usually the result of a long road of suffering and heartache. It's the end of the line for those who feel they can no longer continue.

I urge ANY reader who thinks of suicide as a way out to please talk to someone before you make that final decision. In reality they can not stop you from doing it, so it doesn't matter if you talk to someone about it.

Gah... Another Monday

I spent the weekend in a fuzzy cloud. Not drug induced or alcohol induced thank you very much! I was just... well... out of it. My usual weekend routine was disrupted because my Dad came home to visit this weekend. That's not a bad thing, it's nice seeing him and talking to him and stuff, but it does hinder on my routine.

I know I sound rather selfish and absurd, but routine is kind of the only stable part of my existence at the moment. I like to think that I don't follow a routine, but really, I'm not spontaneous or crazy fun! I simply follow my little routine each day which ensures I don't "fall off the wagon" in my recovery.

Speaking of recovery... Am I actually in recovery? Is that what this stage of being "okay" is called when you have a mental illness? I don't think I like the term. I think it implies it's a terminal illness or something more worthy of having a recovery. Yeah, yeah I still think I am not worthy of help or getting better or anything really.

Anyway, my routine... I feel out of place now. I don't know what I'm meant to be doing and I have this overwhelming urge to just run away. My brain hasn't divulged to me why I would actually want to run away or where I would indeed go, it only allows me to feel this insanely strong urge to RUN. Failing the motivation (okay so in this case lack of motivation is simply awesome) to physically run, I have found that I've been overly tired, grumpy and more moody than usual. Holy crap, beware people the psycho-crazy-monster is about to be let loose.

At times over this weekend I resorted to taking some seroquel to calm me down and keep me "sane". That's what the meds are there for, I know, but I feel like it's a cop out to not be able to deal with the emotions and strangeness that happens inside me. (And that right there folks is a perfect example of why I'm screwed up! I'm still trying to control myself so I am the perfect child, friend, worker, person, etc.)

So now it's Monday morning and I have to go to centrestink to hand in a form so they will give me money. I hate centrestink. I hate the stigma associated with being on centrestink. I hate myself for being so screwed up I can't function in the real world.

Yeah, for those of you who are all like "just shut up and get a job" would you be willing to hire me? Would you give me a lot of time off? Even at short notice? There are days I am so anxious I think I'm going to cause myself to have a heart attack or that fatal migraine. Will you give me the day off when I feel like that?

What about when I have an anxiety attack at work... Will you know how to help calm me down? Will you have the time to help? What about when I start to think that everyone hates me and that I can't do the work properly? Are you going to notice the change in my behaviour? Are you going to know what to do when that happens?

Are you REALLY willing to have such a basket case working for you?

I didn't think so. So until I can actually manage and live with my disorder/illness/craziness I kind of have to steer clear of actual, rewarding, work.

It's one of those brilliant catch 22 situations. I want to work because it's rewarding, gives me a sense of achievement and makes me feel good. Yet I do get overly anxious, psycho weird and do have a serious problem with interpreting people's behaviours into something they're really not (usually being mean towards me.) And thus another example of how screwed up I am!

I'd better stick to my routine and get ready for the day, not that I am doing anything other than going to centrestink mind you, but the routine helps keep a sense of normality in my over imaginative head.

Why Self-Diagnosis is bad... Mmmkay

When we start to feel that something is wrong an immediate reaction is to try and figure out what is wrong and why it?s going wrong. This can lead us to looking up information and finding out as much as we can. While this is a good thing, going a little too far and diagnosing yourself with a particular ailment or mental illness can be very harmful.

The purpose of being having so many sites, books, people to talk to and everything in between is for us to get the best information. Sometimes all this information isn?t for the best and can be extremely confusing.

When doing a research assignment for school, teachers are now adding, ?do not cite Wikipedia as a reference?, not that I blame them it?s the worst site ever for accurate information.

Self-diagnosis is like going to Wikipedia and only getting one point of reference. If you believe the first thing you read and write a report or essay using the information from that one site, it?s highly likely you?re going to be marked poorly.

Believe it or not, it?s the same principle for self-diagnosis.

It is important that you research, read and explore how you feel. There are some great websites, books and programs in local areas (depending where you are in the world) that can be a starting place to learning more. Just don?t take the first thing you read, or are told, to be gospel.

Being human we all share some traits, differ in others and while we?re all unique we?re all still made of the same matter. Our chemicals and hormones affect us all differently due to the science of genetics and other such scary stuff that is far beyond my humble brain to understand. It is due to these differences that make diagnosing and treating illnesses (mental and otherwise) rather difficult. That?s why there are specialists in every medical field imaginable. These people spend their lives researching, testing, comparing and learning about that specific area.

So when you think about that, it doesn?t really make sense for us to read the first thing about an illness and think ?well that must be what I have? because the symptoms or experiences are the same as yours. Isn?t it better to ask your GP or other medical professional for more information and their professional observation before demanding a specific treatment or course of action?

There are many reasons why self-diagnosing is so bad. I couldn?t even begin to write about them all without putting everyone to sleep in the process. However, I do believe there is one huge(in my opinion) drawback to self-diagnosing. When a person self-diagnoses they tend to become ?stuck? in the belief of what they believe they have. The person can be so relieved to find their ?place? that they neglect other factors in their life which could also cause the reasons behind why they feel the way they do.

This belief becomes ingrained and when they go to see their medical professional they are not receptive of other ideas, treatments or diagnosis. Effectively this means that the person is worse off because they are so adamant they know what is wrong with them that they are unable to consider other things that may help them.

I?ve been down the road of self-diagnosis myself. It?s a very fine line between being aware and self-diagnosing. My mental health progressively got worse as I tried to fight every other suggestion made to me, because I was absolutely not going to be wrong. This mistake (and it was a mistake) very nearly cost me my life as I made some very dangerous decisions.

So now I tell everyone, no matter if they suffer a mental illness or any kind of illness, to learn about the illness, learn about how you feel but do not diagnose yourself. Doctor?s really do spend their lives learning about their chosen field, they?re the best to diagnose you.

Don?t get me wrong, Psych?s will most likely not find the diagnosis immediately either, but that?s because of the chemicals in our bodies and our history. It takes time to build a rapport with them and it takes time for them to discern all the factors that lead to one or more diagnosis.

Be patient if you can. You will still get help and you will still be able to talk to someone, anyone, about how you feel. Sometimes it?s not important to be labeled, it?s more important to treat the symptoms. The labels can come later.

If you want to read more about self-diagnosis check out these two links:

http://www.wrongdiagnosis.com/diagnosis/self.htm

This site contains a brief over view of what self-diagnosis is and why it?s bad.

http://www.mentalhelp.net/poc/view_doc.php?type=doc&id=9661&cn=353

This website is brilliant. There is SO MUCH information if you have the time to read it. Basically, this is a very in depth look at why self-diagnosis is detrimental to your health. It is really a brilliant read.

Please feel free to share your stories and experiences, privately or on the site. I would love to hear how other people have dealt with their diagnosis, lack of diagnosis as well as any hurdles you?ve had to overcome.

Well.. What now?

So you've read the last few posts, have a suspicion you might have a mental illness or at the very least that "something is really wrong", and you've had a look at the websites mentioned. What now?

To some degree the first part of looking at websites is the easiest. You don't have to talk to anyone, go anywhere or do anything other than read (and maybe a quiz thing if you did some of those). The next step is a lot harder and if I could make this one easier I would. Part of the next step is acknowledging to yourself that something isn't right. In some cases this means going against everything you've tried to hide from people. The fear associated with facing even the slightest bit of what you've hidden can be debilitating in itself.

I would love to lie and say that it's a walk in the park, easy, nothing to it, but I can't do that. Facing yourself, facing the lie (because in most cases it IS a lie we live trying to pretend we're fine) is terrifying. The only way to get through it, that I've found, is to ask yourself; What is more frightening? Living a lie and feeling "wrong" or admitting it feels wrong and get some help?

It doesn't matter which of these two choices you make. Don't let anyone tell you you've "won" or "lost" by choosing one or the other. If you're aware there is help, yet think it's too scary to follow right now, that's okay! Maybe at another time you will not feel as scared and will want to talk to someone who can help.

***Please note: if you feel suicidal CALL SOMEONE. That option isn't okay because even though we might think it is, others don't think like us. Everyone is entitled to feel good and everyone is worthy of being helped.***

Okay okay so I've decided to get help. What now?:

Make an appointment to see your Social Worker, GP, Psychologist or Psychiatrist. In most cases it's either Social Worker or GP first as the psych's tend to come in a little bit later once it's confirmed you need that extra help to sort things out.

When going to your social worker:

• Tell your social worker, honestly, how you feel. If you have trouble saying it, perhaps writing them a letter that you can take with you.
• Let your social worker know that you have had a look at some mental health websites and that you find you can relate to the some (or all) of the material you've read.
• Ask your social worker for more information regarding mental illness, getting help. making appointments to see a psychologist or psychiatrist etc.

Social worker's are there to help you. A social worker is never there to judge you or tell you you're wrong. In some cases they may have already surmised that you are feeling "a bit wrong" and may already have some information ready for you. This doesn't mean they are evil or horrible or that they have judged you. It is their job to pay attention to you and therefore, it is important they let you realise some things in your own time. NB: Social worker's will usually only tell you (before you have come to the conclusion yourself) if you seem to be at risk of harming yourself or others.

So what do I do if I see my GP?:

• Tell your GP, honestly, how you feel. Yes, I am repeating this one for the GP too. It's an important step. If you can actually voice (or write) how you truly feel your GP has more to work with at determining if you have a mental illness or if it is something else.
• It is very important to let your GP know that you have looked at mental health websites and that you do feel you can relate to some (or all) of the material you've read.
• If you believe you should see a psychologist or psychiatrist as your GP for their referral of some good doctor's. This alerts your GP to what course YOU would like to take and they are better able to assist you in action.
• Your GP might prescribe medication for you. Medication can take anywhere from 2-6 weeks to begin to take effect so don't think you'll feel better right away. Because of the different types of medications that are available it is imperative you are as honest as you can be with your GP about how you feel. Tell your GP if you are having thoughts of self harm as some medications can make these thoughts more prominent.
• Don't be afraid to question your GP. This will generally go against our usual actions as we're more likely to accept rather than question. In this case however, push yourself to ask any questions you might have. Your GP should be more than happy to answer them.

This whole process of beginning the help phase, as I have come to call it, is really one of the hardest. It is okay if you find it takes you more than one appointment to fully explain how you feel. It is okay that you might not be able to make what you say coherent, it's new territory that you're experiencing and haven't got a practiced script on hand!
Most of all, it's okay to be scared about how you feel, feeling what you feel, asking for help, admitting that there's something wrong and that you're scared. Believe it or not these are all absolutely natural when anyone is confronted with something greater than them.

If you have a friend who you've been able to talk with (or kind of talk with), maybe you can ask them to take you to the appointment/s so you have support going there and someone to talk to afterwards. Not everyone wants people to accompany them and that is also fine.

The point I'm trying to make is that you need to do whatever is going to make you the most comfortable during the most uncomfortable time.

If you have any questions feel free to message me (or email renee@raznay.com ) and I'll try to do my best to answer them.

I'll cut this post short before I write too much!!

There will be many more posts to come this is not the end of the road! The journey only begins with a single step.

Cheers,

Raznay