it's my own kind of recovery

A Different Kind of Demon

Summary: Everyone has their demons… yours just come in the form of your childhood and past. 

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,500 ish

Warnings: Language, angst, self loathing, depression, shitty childhood, child abuse

A/N: This is only my second attempt at this writing thing and I got a lot of inspiration from my own childhood and recovery, so its really important to me to write this.  I promise that my next post will not be sad or depressing!! As always feedback is appreciated.

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“I should of had an abortion… You are a worthless piece of shit that will never amount to anything…”  Those word still ring in your head it’s been almost 18 years and you still hear them every time you close your eyes.

You pushed your self out of your bed, flicked on the light and looked around your room. It was a small room but since you’ve been living there you were able to decorate it and made it more like you. The clock on the beside table read 3:15 am. You groaned at the realization that it would be another sleepless night… Pulling yourself out of bed you slid into some yoga pants and make your way into the bunkers kitchen.  Not surprised the light was still on you enter the kitchen to see Sam at his laptop, probably looking for a new case.

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I experienced a really lovely cathartic affectionate friendship with a straight guy on my French immersion trip, (the first of its kind in a long, long time for me) and I really believe Christ came to me in him and healed male relationships for me. Or started to, began to. A lot of work will have to be taken up myself and done with the determination, perseverance and love to work through my own trauma with my abuser, but I’m at a place where I can read The Shack now. I can’t explain it but finally being able to read it now means something big in my life. . I’m finally here, I am at the starting point and I am ready to actualize my healing and grow into the man God wants me to be, to love and give pure love with men and know that is is okay, it can be safe, it can be good and that my orientation’ s affection for the same sex is not wrong by default. I thank God for the patience he has given me in testing me, trying me by fire these past 10 years. I am ready now. I am ready to be free and open my wings and fly into the arms of Jesus, just like he has always been waiting for me to do. I cannot express my emotions right now, but if they were colours, they would be pastel pink and pastel blue and the colour of the cloudless sky as the sun sets in the countryside. They’re not dark anymore. They’re getting lighter. I’m getting lighter. A veil is finally lifting from my life that has clouded me for ten years in silence and solitude and pain - and the growth and steps to fulfil that growth ahead of me, well. It’s scary, really scary. But I know I can do it, I can talk about it. God wants me to and I trust in him and in him I am free . I am ready. I am beautifully made, there is nothing wrong with me, and I am ready.

Thank God, thank the good Lord, because I am ready.

i used to have a lot of trouble with feeling validated with self diagnosing myself with bpd, like it wasnt good enough and i avoided researching bpd further or connecting/relating with other borderliners. it made my life worse. so much worse. i struggled on my own with a vague internal problem and had to build up my own (usually faulty) coping mechanisms and strategies to survive. there were aspects of bpd that i didnt know about or understand fully (beyond a cold & brief medical description) and so these parts of myself were still land-locked in shame.

now that ive embraced self diagnosis and moved into a place of recovery (which tbh feels impossible when you feel stifled and stuck and unable to afford the “necessary” medical process where someone says “yeah youre right”) its kind of heart breaking to see things broken down and attributed to my illness. i wish i had accepted my self diagnosis sooner!! i wish i had looked into it so much sooner!! and heard other ppl with bpd describe their experiences so much sooner! if i had moved into a recovery phase sooner, maybe the past four years would be drastically different and not a complete fucking MESS.

i have trouble with functioning in a lot of ways- holding a job, doing taxes/”Adulting”, maintaining friendships and relationships (and getting through the emotions that come with them), maintaining my self-worth, and even stuff like taking a shower or caring about my appearance. i feel like i’m on top of the world and coming up if i muster up the self-love it takes to take care of myself, feed myself, clean myself, wash my clothes. stuff people would look at me weird for being proud of doing, simple everyday stuff most people dont even have to try to do. it always made me feel disgusting and broken, and i had no idea this kind of stuff was typical by-the-glorified-book bpd symptoms. i didnt see these things as symptoms of an illness- i saw them as evidence that i was shitty at being a person and unlovable by default, the “real me”. that shame did a huge number on me for YEARS. years!!! hundreds of hard days that could have been different!! hundreds of days i could have moved into acceptance and recovery!

now im in a bind where im hanging on by a thread trying to scramble my life back together and truly recover and move on and grow as a person. if i detailed the past 4 or 5 years to a therapist and how ive basically tumbled out of college in a flaming cart just to wreck into homelessness and poverty, im pretty sure id be one of the few who would actually be able to receive disability for a mental illness and meet their fucked up drastic requirements. my bpd is more severe than i ever realized or could admit to myself until now. 

but im fighting myself tooth and nail to find work and hold a job long enough to meet my current needs (aka not be homeless and carless and foodless anymore) and eventually afford mental health help, get the documents and second opinion required to even be able to function without driving myself in the ground on my own. trying to cope and adjust with so many failures and pitfalls and disappointing myself/other people over and over.

so like, the whole anti-self diagnosis sentiment can kiss my fucking ass. lick and slurp and worship my flat butt. if i hadnt been too scared to self diagnose five years ago and take it seriously, feel validated about it and not insecure and avoiding the diagnosis bc its “not official enough”…… MY LIFE MIGHT NOT BE SUCH A HUGE FUCKING WRECK, A HUGE SEEMINGLY IMPOSSIBLE MONSTER OF A MESS TO UNTANGLE AND WORK OUT. my relationships with others might not have gone the way they did, i could have been more self aware and having more positive experiences like i’m having with recovery!

so stop shaming people for self-diagnosing. it’s DANGEROUS. IT’S ABSOLUTELY CRUEL TO DO THAT TO SOMEONE AND UPHOLD SOMETHING SO DETRIMENTAL TO SOMEONE’S WELL-BEING. YOU ARE HELPING TO LOCK AND BOARD UP A DOOR SOMEONE MIGHT DESPERATELY NEED TO OPEN AND FEEL LIKE THEY HAVE A RIGHT TO OPEN, AND YOURE FORCING THEM TO BECOME SO DESPERATE THEY HAVE TO TEAR IT APART WITH THEIR OWN HANDS AND PICK THE LOCK THEMSELVES. and not everyone can survive mental illness long enough to get to that point. 

people shit on self diagnosis a lot but in my experience of getting professionally diagnosed w/ stuff it’s literally just a short conversation with a psychiatrist of them reading a list of symptoms of a specific disorder from the dsm-5 and you discussing if you feel you meet enough of the symptoms and feel comfortable aligning yourself with a certain diagnosis

while im not negating the importance of mental health services, i think it’s unfair to criticize people for self diagnosis when in professional therapy the process of diagnosis comes so much from the patient. in my experience you kind of lead your own diagnosis and continue past it with the help of your doctor through whichever form of therapy you take on

plus like, not everyone can afford expensive mental health services so let’s stop shaming people for finding comfort/a starting place for recovery/a community/etc. in a diagnosis when diagnostic criteria & in general psychiatric resources online are so much more available than a professional diagnosis you would reach in a very similar way