The discrimination in the workplace against those with mental health issues, diagnosed or undiagnosed, is horrible.

Faced it today. The climate of fear. Being unable to mention you have doctor’s sessions because of ‘health reasons’. Then they ask what for and we say 'it’s private’. We control our disclosure, but even then people look at us in shock and write us off.

I don’t want people to worry but I need them. I need them because I’m scared of an illness I can’t name yet dominates all of my conversations. tonight is one of those nights when I have no clue what my body is doing but I know it’s weak, and it’s midnight and all I can think about is what if it just… gives up. it’s been fighting a rigged battle for a year and I’m just so tired. what if it’s not strong enough. what if I’m not strong enough anymore. sleep is terrifying because I can never feel the edge of it, and dragging myself out is a process I’m not sure I ever fully manage to complete. my head is stuck in a dream. I am a plane stuck on autopilot. I just want to feel solid ground beneath the pads of my fingers and the callouses on my feet. tonight, and most nights, it feels like I’m hovering a millimeter above the earth. I’m the same song stuck on repeat. I’m these same few cords over and over until you forget the natural rhythm of your brain. I’m tired.

I am a 26 year old pansexual gender fluid person with two children, ages 3 and 4. I have an undiagnosed illness that effects my joints causing them to spontaneously dislocate and they hurt constantly. I also have anxiety, depression and sleep apnea, which causes me to be an exhausted nervous wreck 90% of the time. All of this makes traditional employment impossible for me, I have tried, and failed many times.

My partner’s mother has stage 4 rectal cancer and its too large and too aggressive to operate. Their only option is aggressive chemotherapy in the hope that it shrinks it enough for them to be able to operate.

My partner’s job barely makes enough to keep us fed and have a place to live ontop of my medical expenses. Now we have to help his mother too.

If there is anything you can spare please donate it to my paypal. My paypal address is dollie.azura@gmail.com . I also have an amazon wish list which is updated often if you would prefer to know what your money would buy.

If you cannot donate please signal boost this post so more people can see the situation we are in and possibly help.

Thank you all.

The end of another year in medical school

I finished my last exam some four hours ago. I’m officially on holiday and done with 4th year. 6 things that happened this year:

  1. I had to deal with failing two classes from third year. I retook one of them this year and will retake the other one next year. This leads us to
  2. Hit an impressive low in terms of mental health. Of course, in September I didn’t know for sure that this was a mental health problem. All I knew is that the end of third year had been catastrophic (due to stress, undiagnosed mental illness and the tragic, painful and drawn out end of an important friendship) and that I had failed two classes. I had spent the summer studying for nothing and started the year exhausted. That only got worse, to the point that I started receiving almost daily comments about how poorly I looked. This lead to
  3. A visit to a psychiatrist and starting on medication on Christmas. This did help a lot. While it didn’t solve all my problems, it surely made it less hard to study and concentrate. During the second semester I still felt like I was permanently pushing against a wall, like I was making an incredible effort and seeing no results, but still
  4. I improved my grade average and got some of my highest grades so far. There are still a couple of grades that are nothing to write home about, but I won’t have to retake any exams in September and I’m immensely proud of getting the second highest grade in one of the classes.
  5. I got to scrub in in quite a few surgeries and watch some others. I still doubt that I’ll end up a surgeon, but a surgical rotation has the feel of a rite of passage, something that symbolizes being one step closer to that reality of becoming a doctor. And there are people out there with the marks of the staples I put in (how’s that for a creepy but awesome fact?)
  6. I started writing for a student’s magazine. Yes, I voluntarily took up something that requires me to have more contact with people. This wasn’t a completely successful undertaking (I didn’t manage to force myself to attend any of the meetings) but I’ll still count it as a step in the right direction to get my anxiety around people under control. And I published a piece of my very own in my third language, how great is that?

It’s odd to sum up 10 months in six topics, but that’s the highlight of it. I guess that all things considered, it was an OK year. Certainly one that made me change my perspective in many ways. Now, I only have to wait for the results of today’s exam, but for all intents and purposes, I’m FREE! I’m going home tomorrow and I have 2 months of family and friends, speaking my own language, learning German, and psychotherapy to enjoy (though I admit I’m kind of nervous about that last one). Then I’ll be back for my penultimate year of medical school (it just doesn’t seem real).

If you’ve bothered to read all that, let me just add some things that I’d like my fellow medical students to keep in mind:

  • It’s hard. It’s even harder if you’re not at your best, so ask for any help that you might need, because sometimes struggling alone only leads to failure and frustration.
  • We are only human, so we need to take care of ourselves as well. 
  • Grades aren’t everything, and sometimes they are more a symptom of something wrong than a disgraceful mark of failure. 
  • You can bounce back from bad moments, even if it doesn’t feel like it at the time.

I’m having a hard moment right now, and honestly, it’s making me so thankful for Steven Universe and the fandom. My dad and I have suspected for years that my mom has some sort of undiagnosed mental illness. She’s very much like Pearl. Most days she’s loving and kind toward me. But other days She’ll randomly freak out over nothing sometimes from out of nowhere, and it can be very hard to live with her on those days.
So I’m really excited to see how this week’s arc ends, since it was addressed by one of the writers that they’re trying to bring across a bigger message, and I really hope that it involves Pearl’s mental state. Not only so that the fans will stop treating Pearl like crap, but also so that we can see how Steven and the other gems act in response. I believe it will be helpful in my journey of understanding my mother and helping me to be more sympathetic toward her and others.

anonymous asked:

topic: undiagnosed mental illness

Super super relatable.


I think I’m going crazy
But the questioning keeps me sane
If I had the answer
I’d become insane
One brain, one person, one knife
Don’t do that son
That’s no way to live life
Bothering me for years on end
But it’s really only a few seconds
I don’t really care anymore
And I don’t think anybody else does either

The thing about having this mysterious undiagnosed illness is that most of the time i can just ignore it and then sometimes i have days where it’s super obvious there’s something wrong with me and it’s so UGH

anonymous asked:

9:47pm thinking about if im actually mentally ill (undiagnosed but I think I could be sometimes idk) or if I'm just an over dramatic terrible person lol

yr not alone though i think a lot of mentally ill ppl think like this?? i was diagnosed like three years ago and i know i do, it’s a really hard mindset to break out of 

I shouldn’t feel neglected like this when I have boyfriend right? Like he shouldn’t be able to make me feel so alone? I fucked myself over again…..I did it again so I’m gonna just cry to sleep well nap but whatever I hate how I feel. Being chronically ill but undiagnosed then realizing the boy doesn’t care again. Do you know how much I just want to love someone and have fun and live but no we can’t do that.

anonymous asked:

you're adorable and important and don't deserve to feel bad as much as you do

Aw thank you anon, that’s really sweet of you!

Having an undiagnosed mental illness (either/or dysthimia/ Cyclothymia) makes it hard to see my low points as abnormal since they’ve always been a part of who I am, but just knowing that someone out there wants me to be happy makes me feel a little less heavy.

So thank you

  • Name: Jordan Ryan “JR” O’Leary
  • Age: 28
  • Status: Dominant
  • Employer: Club Eden
  • Occupation: Bouncer


  • JR grew up as the youngest in a typical Irish Catholic family. His father was a cop in NYC and his mother a stay at home mom.  He and his two other siblings are close knit.
  • His mother was robbed and murdered coming home from a convenience store. He was stuck in Iraq at the time, and still feels guilty for not being there for his family.  
  • After his work with the Army, he joined the NYPD to help his father catch his mother’s murderer. He has a tendency to fully immerse himself in his cases, leaving him prone to obsession, forgetfulness, and recklessness.
  • He met a submissive named Holly and they fell hard for each other. She helped remind him that there was more to life than work. But she passed away last year while he was on the job from a sudden undiagnosed illness.
  • He retired from the force after that and drifted aimlessly through life for a while. Until he came upon a help wanted sign at Club Eden. He now works as a bouncer there four nights a week.


  • Ethan Daniels: JR’s boss. While they haven’t had much occasion to speak; he impressed Ethan with his resume, and he was sent up to interview on the spot.


Coming soon!

FC: Ryan Kelley

Dupont Eden is a relationship building/OC roleplay focused on character development set within a Dominant/submissive alternate reality.

Plot || Rules || Characters || Applications

My own fucking bed

About a week ago someone close to me offered me a queen sized bed. I couldn’t believe it. My own personal queen sized bed. My bed. My own. Just another stepping stone to independence. Am I nearly 40? Yes. How long have I really had independence? About 6 months.

How is that possible? You may ask this. I did an inventory today. Someone close offered to help me and we went and got that bed. Proudly I thanked my friend because I knew that we were two chicks who moved a big piece of furniture. She drove a massive truck. But I digress. We spent the day together and I spoke of my past experiences. I realized that I had spent a little bit of time semi-independent in the dark days of my early twenties. However, when you are living with undiagnosed mental illness you are a bit of a prisoner.

I met my ex-husband at 22 and I remained with him until my…well, I will say it. I remained with him until my nervous breakdown 6 years ago. Do you know how fucking hard it is to admit that? Seriously! Anyhoo, he controlled me in many ways. Before him and my small period of living on my own I lived in the clutches of my mother.

My mother is not a woman I want to ever see again. Ever.

After my nervous breakdown I got help, but I became the most vulnerable woman. I was on higher doses of medication to stabilize myself. I went to very intensive therapies to learn how to cope and live with this illness. I moved in with my family for support, which turned out to be a very stressful situation. I simply did not know better. I thought it was all normal. I didn’t know.

Six months ago I branched out on my own. I have a wonderful living situation, and I thank the universe every moment for giving me this gift. This all brought me to today: an independent woman and mother getting her first big girl bed. I sit on it now. It feels like freedom.

My friend surprised me today. She told me that I was brave. “You did everything on your own. You did not have guidance. You were controlled by people who did not have your best interest at heart.” This made me feel good while saddening me a bit. I have done so much on my own. I can do much on my own. I will do what I need to do on my own until I need help again, and that help will come from the right people.

As the time has passed I have peeled away layers of negative behaviors. These behaviors serve no purpose and do not meet my needs. However, due to my learning curve, I do not always know what is best for me.

I remain close to my ex-husband so as to make a nice family life for my son. He had a big day planned. He had a thing. I did not need to go to this thing. However, tickets were purchased and plans were made. In all of it I eventually decided I did not want to go. I got a lot of slack. When I say a lot, I mean seriously aggravating slack. Then I got the opportunity to get my big girl bed. As you probably know, moving anything takes far more hours than one plans for. I sucked it up and I said no! He sassed me and my son guilted me, but I could not do it. I had to do what was in my best interest.

There is a little more to the story. I currently have symptoms of depression. In the realm of this illness the symptoms never really dissipate. They become manageable. We can live more mainstream lives. But time to time we feel and act a little manic or depressed. I just fall under the umbrella of depression. What does that entail for me?

I basically celebrated for a while when I received my new found independence. I drank and ate like a decadent Roman. I feel the effects now. I also feel more tired and I have more aches than usual. I get more confused and I feel more lost. I grieve the things I have lost and I think of the pain of the past. I have a hard time focusing on the present moment and I fall out mindfulness easily.

I feel this now, and I felt it today. What did I do? I got a new bed and I didn’t go to an event that would have drained me and compromised my sleep. I went through my phone and deleted those that do not lift me up. I ate well. Tomorrow will be a better day. This is the crux of this illness. While we experience the mini highs and lows we can take care of ourselves so we can snap out of it.

Now I look upon my big bed. I will put on the clean sheets and crawl under them naked. I can spread out and fall into a luscious sleep. My battery will recharge. Maybe tomorrow I will take a walk. Maybe not. I simply know that I will feel something different tomorrow. I have been in darker places than I care to admit. Scary, desolate places. I got out, I got up, and I got better. This is a night where I can reflect and know that these trials are not negative. They are the cracks of a new seed and it does hurt when new roots sprout.