A support forum for writers dealing with mental illness |
Hey... I'm Kylie.... Kylie, Ky, or Cinn are all fine with me. I'm long-winded as fuck. You'll either get used to that or avoid me. I'm fine with that either way. Basics: I've been with my husband for 18 years this year (literally half my lifetime, since I'll be 36 this year as well). We have one son, Tripp... about to turn 10. I'm from Maine but live in Lafayette, IN and attend Purdue University. I hold a B.S. in Organizational Leadership and I'm finishing my thesis this semester for a M.S. in Technology Leadership & Innovation... should be done in May. I currently have two jobs in addition to full-time studies. I'm a research assistant in charge of producing documentation for the accreditation renewal on the OL undergrad degree program (the one in which I got my degree). And I work at most 4 hours per week at a grocery story in the meat/seafood department. It keeps me humble, plus 10% off groceries... and at like $11 per hour, it pays for my gas and lunches on campus during the week. When needed, I also fall back on my freelance writing/editing background for extra money. Haven't had to do that for a while now. In general, my life is good. I love my husband and son. I never see any of my relatives, but my mother texts me every single day to tell me that I'm beautiful and she's proud of me and loves me, complete with pictures of the sunrise or other cheery things. Occasionally, aunts and cousins and whatever pop onto Facebook to leave me positive 'proud of you' type messages too. My in-laws are also quite proud of me at times and clearly appreciate my skill set, if not my personality. Anyway, we have a cute little house that's plenty big enough for us... fenced in backyard with a fire pit... lovely sun porch... office AND library in addition to bedrooms and living room and so forth. It's nice (aside from the smallest kitchen I've ever seen in an actual house!). We also just inherited (literally inherited from a passed family member) a brand new 2013 Ford Edge... with every imaginable feature and only 7,000 miles on it. By far the newest vehicle we've ever owned. Love those heated seats. And I know that this all seems like... perfectly fine. And it is. I'm not depressed or anxious or anything like that. To be quite honest here, I barely feel anything at all. How else could someone as damaged as me achieve what I have? I could barely function when I was younger and all through my teens. I've never been to therapy because no one accepted that I needed it when I was younger... and by the time I was 18, I had learned to suppress pretty much all feelings that I don't like... sadness, fear, anger, etc. I just... feel them in a very very muted fashion, if at all. I don't get sad, I get displeased. I don't get angry, I get annoyed. Whatever. That said, I have read just about every book I can find on the subjects of my own issues. I understand them well. I also have read extensively on many issues that don't affect me (such as borderline personality disorder) because I appear to be something of a mental illness magnet and research other people's issues just as extensively. I thought about this last night and determined that I have literally two people in my life who have no form of mental illness. TWO. My mom and little brother. And I love them, in part, because they don't NEED me. Our relationship is totally chill. The other exception is my son, though autism presents its own challenges. Anyway, I do believe that something in me seeks out other people who are "damaged"... possibly more damaged than me. Like, it's comforting or something like that? Just the fact that most of my ex-boyfriends and close friends over the years have had BPD says something probably. I don't think that it's the whole... I need to be on a pedestal thing. Not at all. If anything, that creeps me out a bit. There is just something comforting about always knowing where you stand with someone and having people around who genuinely have your back, even if it's because they can't help it. There's a certain level of love and devotion that is particularly helpful to me for whatever reason. Or maybe just "acceptance"? Whatever. My current status: I'm fine. About 99% of the time, I'm fine. Aside from chronic insomnia and the usual struggle to be empathetic, I'd say I'm pretty well adjusted. When cracks happen (and they do), I fill them up with other things pretty fast. In recent years, I call on Charlie ~ , actually. I do believe that my last meltdown was in November or so. I totally lost it in the middle of lecture... full triggered. By the time I realized and went about clamping down it was too late... I spent the rest of class bouncing between crying and dissociated. It was a fucking mess. Just... fuck. So, I freaked out for a good half hour or so afterward (and talked it out briefly), shoved it aside, and got back to work. The professor who witnessed the meltdown? He's now the chair of my committee. I can shake off anything. I have to. Strangely, my chair might be one more person who I was drawn to because he is dealing with a traumatic childhood of his own. At first, I was surprised, but now... really... it's par for the course at this point. We haven't spoken of it since that night. No reason to. We "get" each other at this point, and both of us are pretty damn high functioning. Neither of us have been in therapy... and neither of us want to. It was almost startling how similar we are in our backgrounds and approaches. So this intro is to say... yeah... I'm a reasonably settled person who has a good life, and I appreciate that. But I will always have these occasional problems. No therapy or labels for me. I KNOW what my problem is and what it stems from. And I cope in my own way. If anyone needs a shoulder to cry on, you'll find one here... but probably not from me. I'm more of a practical-advise type... totally removed from the emotions of it. Maybe someone will find that useful or even comforting... I can't really "care". And a simple, "hey... can you talk? Trigger warning" is enough to prepare me for literally anything. Just saying. If that type of reaction seems freaky and unnatural or whatever... that's cool. I get it. Just talk to Charlie or someone super empathetic and sympathetic and in-tune or whatever. For anyone who is really dying to know more backstory... you can find stuff in my port without looking too far. I don't feel like talking about it at the moment... or even looking at it. I'm busy. I have a paper to finish revising... it's being published, after all. And I've been putting off revising for about 6 weeks. My favorite coping mechanism: Be too busy to give a fuck... or too busy to even have time to give a fuck. |