You Can't Go Back Home

You just can't go home.once you have gone through suicide attempts, hospitalization sand all out crying all the time because no one back home knows what happened to me and would freak.  I was a different person then.  I write witty things on my Facebook.  Never once mentioning the extreme pain  I suffer every day.  But I will need to take a trip and know I am going to run into so many old friends.  The only good thing is that I look the same.  There was this boy I went to school with and had this massive crush on.  I was always the girl with the weed. Why ?  Let' just say I had some friends in low places. I just remember spending time alone with him except for the fact that my friend's little sister would follow me out if she saw me leaving.  There was this one time we were just sitting in the grass next to each other we barely talked and I thought for sure this was it.  I could feel the butterflies.  I just knew he was going to kiss me but it didn't happen.  Years go by, again, our paths cross.  Only this time I am newly divorced.  I think he was too and he turns out to be the best friend of a man, I am dating.  Oh, if only he would have known I would have dropped his roommate like yesterday's garbage had he made one pass.  Never happen.  He befriends me on Facebook. He tells me I look great.   The picture shows several men in the picture and I am overwhelmed at how great he looks.  On closer look it was his son . He as was the potbellied man standing next to him.
Things just change

Knives, Depression and Nail Polish

Why the name?  Well, it wasn't my first choice but it was a title available and I think it best described me.  While I do suffer from depression that is not my only diagnosis.  I also have PTSD and Anxiety. Now, when I say anxiety I mean severe anxiety.  The type that makes you feel like you are dying because you can't breathe, you lose sight and you can't tell anyone what is happening because you cannot speak.   The knives go with the PTSD.  It seems that there are two reasons I cut both having to do with me trying to take control.  One occasion involves memories that won't stop bad memories that cause a great amount of emotional pain so to control it I transfer it to physical pain.  I cut deep and seeing the blood run down my arm brings pleasure and relief.  There might be something very primitive to this practice where in the 15th century they used a practice called blood letting.  It was the practice of releasing blood when people were ill it was believing that draining blood would also draw out the illness.  I am sure there are cultures that still use this practice for healing. It might be an innate urge we all have in some it lays dormant in others it doesn't.  I know I am still not over the cutting until I can stop carrying a switch blade I am in danger.  I just do my best to shield myself from certain things.  The cutting was much worse two years ago.  It has now been five  months since I cut and I only surface cut so that alone is great progress.  I know soon I will have to give up the knife.
Oh, the nail polish.  I do a blog on nail polish.  It was weird that I would paint my nails and you would   only see my hand if anyone would have seen what was above that they would have freaked out.  At first I was really competitive and did at times wonder why does this blogger have more followers than me, I would post more and try to get vendors  to provide me with samples and I think if I would have kept up I would have had a lot of vendors giving me polish but then I just thought this is not fun.  My favorite indie polish vendor sends me polish and I am so grateful to her.  I have another favorite but I don't think she sends polish to anyone but the biggest blogger and that is OK.  One day.  I still but buy polishes from both and pretty much just stick to buying only their polish but
writing this blog made me feel like I was in some way working and has given me the confidence to do this one.  Then comes the big project.  I don't talk about it but I work on it almost every day.
My life was not supposed to be like this yet but I sometimes when life gives you lemons you make lemonade.
Smile,
Patty

Intro

Hi, my name is Patty and I suffer from mental illness.  Oh, my gosh this gonna be a good blog some crazy chick writing a blog.  Well, stop.  That is exactly why I am writing this blog.  I am sick of the social stigma being a person with mental illness.  Then again if I said hi my name is Patty and I suffer from diabetes, you would have been sympathetic unless you suffer from diabetes you would have gone to the next blog.  Suffering from mental illness is bad and having to deal with the social stigma is even worse.  A lot of times we deal with our own families persecuting us.  That is hard.  So, what I do in that situation is just amputate them.  They are making big campaigns about bullying but yet not including how the mentally ill are bullied.  The people I really love are those who " diagnose" people with mental illness.  This is why mental illness is pushed into the darkness.  We already live there and then when you're trying to see the light and actually see it you realize you need to go back to the darkness because it is safe there.  So, I for one am sick of it and I decided to live I the light and come out and share with you my daily struggles and by sharing it helps me stay in the light.  I hope you will comment and if you want to contact me by email I will respond.

Smile,
Patty