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#mental disorder

To whoever is reading this:

You can do it.

I don’t care what it is you’re going through, you can do it and get through it and prove yourself that you are strong and worth it.


I am an*r^x*ic and have been for a year. Today, I just ate my first ice cream in what feels like forever. I feel free. Ana can’t control me, because it just wants to kill me. I found that out and have finally pushed pass the prison that my mental disorder caved in on me. Deciding to recover is the best choice I’ve ever made!


You can do it, too! I believe in you, so don’t let me down! You’re better than you think.

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Do you ever get tired of living the same day every single day? Day in and day out it’s the same. Damn. Thing. And I don’t know how to spice it up? Then when I get the opportunity to spice it up I don’t even WANT to go anywhere or DO anything. I can’t help but ponder what’s the point? What’s it all for?

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And one day, everything just disappeared.

The love for the things I like disappeared.

My concern for myself disappeared.

The importance that I gave to things disappeared.

The illusion to do something new disappeared.

The desire I have to live has disappeared.

Everything just disappeared.

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I use to believe that I only wanted to have sex with someone I was dating. Someone I really cared for. Someone I really loved. Hyper sexuality changes that. But I think age changes that too. You become disillusioned with the world. You no longer believe in happily ever after or fairy tales. You get broken up with so many times, you start to believe there is no such thing as true love. I’m not sure how I feel about this. It kind of makes me sad.

In the last two years I have slept with 6 different guys. Two of them I was dating. One was someone I had slept with before. The other three I met online and were guys I was interested in dating but it never worked out. Well one is a to be continued but we will see. Is that a lot of people for two years? Does it even matter?

Hypersexuality is real, yall. And it is scary. It is like being a teenager again. Random shit will turn you on or sometimes even nothing at all. It is tough being single because I don’t really have a sexual outlet. Except, you know, myself, but that doesn’t really cut it. Nothing replaces the feeling of skin on skin contact. And to be honest the last two sexual encounters I had were disappointing and left me wanting. Sorry, gentlemen, if you are reading this. Point is right now I am really struggling.

I am not sure if this is because of the new medication, Vraylar, but I will have to mention it to my psychiatrist tomorrow. I have always had a healthy appetite but not like this. Never like this. A friend mentioned it could be because I am maturing and reaching my sexual prime. So now since I am 30, I get back pain and I am horny all the time? Awesome. I think I liked my life better when I was 29 and depressed. 

P.S: This is not an open invitation for dick pics or lewd comments. Well… maybe just a little. 

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Ξέρετε αυτό το συναίσθημα.

Όταν αγχώνεσαι τόσο πολύ που το στήθος σου πονάει και η καρδιά σου χτυπάει σαν τρελή.

Όταν είσαι σίγουρη ότι θα πάθεις κάτι ή ότι έτσι είναι ο θάνατος.

Όταν είσαι βέβαιη ότι δεν μπορείς να κάνεις τίποτα.


Πάρε βαθιές ανάσες.

Ξέρω είναι δύσκολο.

Ξέρω κάθε φορά που αναπνέει νομίζεις ότι τα πνευμόνια σου θα ξεριζωθούν από τα σωθικά σου.

Ξέρω επίσης ότι αυτό το αίσθημα δεν είναι τίποτα πέρα από μία καταιγίδα που θα περάσει.

Μετά από λίγες ανάσες θα ξανά σηκωθείς και θα δείξη στον κόσμο πόσο δυνατή είσαι.

Γιατί δεν είσαι σαν τους άλλους.

Ξέρεις πως να νικάς μάχες.

Έχεις μάθει να νικάς τον εαυτό σου.

Μπορείς να καταφέρεις και τους άλλους.

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It’s crazy for me how some people with mental illness manage to write cabout their mental illnesses, because I try to get as far away as possible from that.

I won’t write a character with my anxiety disorder because I don’t want to think about it, I don’t want to remember what it is like, I have talked about it extensively and I don’t want to do that anymore than necessary, I don’t want to be that anymore, and I don’t want my characters to be that.

My mental illness is suffering, it causes me pain, and even if I understand it is part of who I am (maybe temporarily, maybe forever), it’s not something I like about me and for that reason it’s something I want to change, and I really really want to get better.

And for me writing is an escape from reality. It’s my way of making my reality better than it is.

For that reason I can’t read stories (books or fics) with characters that remind me of that reality, I can’t read angst and I have left books unfinished because of their content. So I can’t help but wonder if I’m maybe just running from something and being a coward.

Or am I doing the right thing by shielding myself from that?

Anyway, I think it’s brave when people are able to write about that, it’s just something I can’t understand.

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