FAQ 5: Do your family know about your mental health issues?

It's always difficult speaking to my family about my mental health. I suffer depression, which they know about, and borderline personality disorder which they don't know about. I also suffer anorexia (EDNOS in the DSM's pov, but I think the DSM is ridiculous) which, when they were aware of it, they would shout at me for having it, like it was my choice. They don't know I still suffer from it - they actually think I binge eat.

Telling them about the depression was easy - I simply Whatsapped my group with my siblings as soon as I was officially diagnosed and they just ignored it. They probably didn't believe me, or just figured I was being an overly sensitive drama queen. I've been suspecting it since I was 13 years old but I got the official diagnosis when I was 18. Telling them about the BPD is something that I can't imagine ever speaking about because they react to my mental health issues really inappropriately - they either shout at me or refuse to accept that there's anything wrong me. It's always "you're not mentally ill, you're just sensitive!" But they knows nothing of the real story. They have no idea what kind of life I lead when they're not around. They know the kind of mood swings I have aren't typical for girls my age (I'm 19), but they just blame it on hormones and my hypersensitivity to the world.

About the anorexia, well, the two times my sisters confronted me were probably the worst experiences I have ever had with them because they just shouted and shouted, and refused to accept that I wasn't in control of it. Over the last year I've managed to convince them that I binge eat so they've backed off.

I really want to be able to speak to them about it all. My eldest sister especially used to help me with my issues as a kid, but since I was 14/15 she just backed off and left me to deal with it all. It all eventually worsened. I can't speak to any of them because they just become completely irrational when it comes to mental health.

Some accurate shit

And don't I know it.

I haven't been posting as much as I should be.

I'm still alive. Completely forgot about the blog these last couple of weeks.. A lot has been going on with my general health so not fun at all. I've got a couple of FAQs that need answering so those are the priority at the moment. I'm hoping to write and post them by the end of next week, but it really depends on if I get better by then.

Have I ever told you how I'm a good liar? Part 1.

12 months ago I had just started going through a gradual and gruelling break up. 10 months ago I started working as a call girl. I was 18 years old and still in school. The best was that I was living under my Muslim family's roof. On one particular day I was with a client about 17 miles away from home in a part of London I had never been to before then. My sister called me at 6pm to ask where I was and I told her I was "less than half a mile away dropping my Muslim friends off at their homes because their parents want to make sure that they're not lying when they say they're with their friends -- their parents don't trust them." I got home an hour later and she didn't suspect a thing.

This is the summary of one of my very favourite memories. The longer story shall come on a day I remember to write it! Until then, ciao for now.

A typical day for le emotions.

Just a post I sent to someone on Reddit as a reply. They suffer bipolar, I'm suspecting myself on bipolar. It seemed too reflective on my "typical day" to let go. So here we are:

"I've been suspecting myself of having bipolar but I'm waiting to change doctors until I can discuss seeing a therapist to look into it further. Although I do have BPD, from my own personal research I think "bipolar borderline" would be a better classification but I need to see a therapist before I begin to determine anything.

Just a note on my posts

Currently feeling somewhat sane (read: depressive yet rational).

Many of my melancholic posts are/will be written during my depressive episodes. I feel obliged to mention that I'm not always like that, it's only when I'm alone or left to my self or when I'm experiencing that "in a crowd yet still feel aloneness" sort of thing. I've had a few emails from some of you stating your concern(s) and I can't help but thank you enough for it -- it's so much more than my own family and friends do so thank you for showing me some hope in this desolate world I'm living.

"About Me" Part 1

My "About Me" page needs an update. These posts shall be my attempt in doing that.

We could say this entire blog is about me. It isn't. It's about my mind. My "innermost thoughts", as people like to call it. Or, "the real me". Truth be told, there is no real me. I don't know who "me" is. When I see similar traits of myself in others is when I can see a part of me, but never can I see me. When I look into the mirror, I feel fear -- "me" becomes real.

I always wondered whose life mine would emulate. I always hoped 'The Number 23' would occur with me because life's spoilers are awesome. Two years ago I was studying A Streetcar Named Desire. Entirely thrown off by the title, I didn't pay any attention until my class and I had a little analytical mindgasm over character Blanche DuBois. Never did I realise she is me. My 'Number 23' is Streetcar. I'm just hoping the end comes for me as quick as it did for Blanche.