"Everyone has a story to tell. There’s a reason why they are the way they are. So, before you start talking, please look in me, in my eyes of words, where I pour everything that crippling up inside my only heart that still beating alive. There will be some connections between our lines where we could meet up at some point, understand each other. Spread the love that once we had. Stay safe & stay alive."

Disorders and Recovery

I initially rejected my diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder, Major Depressive Disorder with Psychosis and Bulimia, ignorant and afraid of the stigma attached to the words “Personality Disorder,”, “Eating Disorder,” and “Psychotic . Then, I quickly came to understand why a psychiatrist had suggested I met the diagnostic criteria. In fact, as a crisis patient at the time, I was experiencing every symptomatic trait listed to a severe degree. As such, I soon came to identify very strongly with my disorders, taking comfort in the ability to explain away most of feelings and behaviors.

Consequently, I felt totally defined by my disorders. I didn’t just have BPD, MDD, Bulimia; I was all of them. 

I was a borderline — a walking, talking mental illness and nothing more. 
I was a depressive and psychotic person  a common, known by all and hearing all voices around my body, telling this and that, doing this and that. 
I was Bulimic  a severely disgusting, terrifying and stigmatized illness. 

Looking back, with every crystal-clear hindsight, I see that this is what held me back from recovery. This certainty that I had nothing but my mental illness stopped me from working to get better because I truly believed that whatever recovery would look like would render me a shell of a person. It would remove me of my diagnosis and therefore remove me of who I was. So, I was uncooperative. I was a difficult patient, resistant to treatment, unwilling to put the effort in when I was put into various services.

Until I got warded, and being treated in the Hospital, kinda changes me a bit, about how I saw recovery is. But recovery isn't always a pretty, lovely road. I know and I believe it is hard, since relapses could happen on the way of the journey. 

I saw progress, slowly but surely. I no longer had the same fiery temper. I am improving. The severity of my disorders symptoms is reducing and I deal with other issues simultaneously, like a terrible trauma I had experienced in childhood. But, I'm still holding back. I'm still unstable, my moods too intense to tolerate, and I couldn’t seem to put in place the coping mechanisms FPs were teaching me because, deep down in the back of my mind, I wasn’t ready to let go of what I thought defined me. I couldn’t see the person I would be if I tried to stabilize my disorders.

Deciding to try recovery anyway was terrifying. I had no idea who I would be if I crossed that bridge but I decided I had to do it regardless, because I had to try a life that wasn’t marked by intense, frightening, ever-changing moods. With a lot of trepidation, I let my FPs show me how to cope with the hurricane in my mind and I let myself become undone because that is what therapy does – it unravels you. It slowly burns away the walls you put up so that you have to build up again from the ground upwards. I still believed there would be no foundation to do this from but what I found instead took me by surprise.

I am not my diagnosis. I am not a “borderline,” “Depressed “Psychotic” and “Bulimic”. I am a person with interests and feelings and behaviors that cannot be explained away by a journal article. I laid down bricks with cement in therapy and rebuilt myself. My destiny is not set by my mental health and I am and will be so much more than the confines of my disorders. Getting to a point where I can say this has been harder than I could ever imagine but it has also been so worth it. I am a better person now than I have ever been and I will continue to work and improve myself indefinitely because I owe that to myself. I will always be grateful to FPs, whose gave me the tools to get here because I now know myself better than I ever have because of them. Therapy is tumultuous and incredibly hard at times, but the rewards greatly outweigh the hardships and I am so proud to say that I may have Disorders, and I may always have BPD, MDD, Bulimia but it does not and never will define me.

wiltedrose.s xx

I have Killed Myself

I lay awake in the early hours of the morning, pillow stained with tears and eyes burning a bright red. My body is numb and my chest aches from feeling empty.

A thought of death crosses my mind but quickly go away because I know that leaving isn't the answer. I know that leaving will not make anything better, maybe anything could be more worse as much as people said.

--But someways, I'd wish for death. Though I wish death would make everything better.

I have managed to push nearly every person that cares about me away because I fear that I will drag them down with me, but I’m okay with that. 
I’ve saved them the hassle of having to decide to leave themselves. I’m lonely, but I’m okay with that. I’m comfortable with being alone. I’m comfortable with being by myself. 

I’m exhausted. 

--Not because I haven’t slept, but because I’m constantly having to fight with myself, because I’m constantly having to find a way to block out my thoughts and because I am constantly having to be someone I’m not to make sure nobody knows how I truly feel. I don’t want them to feel sorry for me, I don’t want them to have to pretend like they care and I don’t want them to feel like they must help me. I also don’t want them blaming themselves, I don’t want them to feel as though they are part of the reason I am like this because they aren’t. I’ve done this myself. I take full responsibility. 

Don’t get me wrong, I do want help, but I feel as though I’ve passed the point of ever feeling okay again. Everything I try, every stranger I talk to and every medication I have taken does nothing but make me feel worse because I don’t want to rely on other people or medication to make me happy. I want to be able to rebuild myself and be happy again on my own, but I know that won’t happen. Not for a long time anyway. But I’m okay with that, because not everyone can be happy all the time. 

And I have killed myself, but I haven’t taken my own life. I’ve killed my happiness, I’ve killed my relationships, both with friends and family. I’ve killed my positive thoughts, my spirit, my emotions, my feelings, my heart, my soul. I’ve killed every single part of me without having to kill myself, because I’d rather put myself through pain than put others through it. 

But I’m okay with that.

Between the Lines

Not very welcoming, but warm.
Not very cold, but sweet.

No, I do not remember how to describe my very first step in this place. I do not wish to be here, but I was there. I was being trapped there, being in prison of earth but a friendly one. It's not dark and cold. (but it is cold by the weather and all the fans open, lol) It's bright and unexplainable feelings.

This is my story,
into the road of recovery in the psychiatric ward.

I was being slow-forced to get into the ward, I remember vividly that I don't want to be warded. I told my psychiatrist, Dr. Ahmad, that I was okay and I do not wish to being warded. Because I've never experience it and I don't wish about it. But before that moment, the date was 29 November 2017, on the morning, I was visited one of my junior by age whom was being warded in HKL and I kinda admit that I already felt suicidal this morning, because of my family matters, it just that I didn't showed it to people. Then, I had my psychiatrist appointment in the evening that day. That's it when it's all started to crash down in front of him and Dr. Ayu. I told him every single thing that I felt that day, how exactly I want to fucking KILL MYSELF. 

and boom! "Alin, I need you to stay here in the hospital's ward for ONE NIGHT for our observation." I refused, by not saying any words. I was scratching my hands silently, mark as my protests. But he didn't notice that, maybe. And then, they asked about my mother's and brother's numbers as well as my father's. They call called and talked and then bam!, I had to sign a paper then I had to admit to the Ward 33, Wad Psikiatri Perempuan, PKKN, Sg Buloh. 

I was being sent there by ambulance, -- still my very first time got into an ambulance. I wasn't aggressive, I was quite, like I can't do anything, I have to follow everything. Then, there's nurse that welcome me. -- not very welcoming but friendly. -- she holds my hands as she saw me being dumb scared, -- ITS MY VERY FIRST TIME BEING WARDED. She asked what did I bought in my bag, I threw it all on the nurse's counter. There's also my razor blades. --all of them. The nurse kept it safe with them. Then I have to change my attire into ward's attire. The nurse followed me to change because she had to see all of scars and wounds all over body. Then, the life towards the new life, new rules began in the ward.

Day 1.
On the day I was i, it was 5:30 p.m. ad it was near to "tea time". and I refused to eat because I was protesting, and I didn't want to eat. I told them if they forced me to eat, I would purge it back. I had no idea why did I told them. It was like a threat. --most likely a real threat. and the war between me, foods and the nurse begins. I was being told if I didn't want to eat it will be more difficult if I want to get out from the ward. Yes, I really freaking WANT to get out from the ward since the first step I was in. I don't remember if I was eat back then.. So I will continue with what I remembered. On medication time, on this day, I was being told that DR. Ahmad only gave me two injection instead. I was okay since I start to hate eating medication because of weight gain issues. But the injection gave me one night with feeling sick on my arms, (feeling lethargic and numb.

Day 2. 
It was Thursday and morning. I used to hate morning.. But in ward, I'm getting used to wake up early and even take my bath early even it is cold as fuck. Today was boring and just having lots of war with the nurse because I don't want to eat. I ate my breakfast when the nurses already threat me back to put me on tube and iv drip like people with anorexia does. Ugh, of course I do not want to be in tube because it will be super uncomfortable and uneasy to sit or sleep. and I ate my breakfast super late, only after the expert and psychiatrist that was on call that day came to interview my morning. she asked me to try eat and not purge it back, it was so not easy. I can't do it, I was purged out my breakfast though. and the nurses got really mad, that was the time the nurses start to followed me every time I went to the bathroom. It was super sucks being followed! There is no privacy in my life in the ward. really..

On dinner, there's one nurse, her name is Saras, an Indian nurse. She accompany me to eat, I eat all of the food with tears on my face. Even though she said I looked so appetizing when I ate. She told me all about how the hospital's food was made, how it is not making me gaining weight (it is!) But that time I don't believe her, but still I finished eaten all of the dinner but.. only after few mins, I purged it back because of my overwhelming feeling guilty about the food I ate. But then.. the feeling of worthlessness and guilty came back again when the on call psychiatrist caught me purging. and she told the nurses about it, and the one that feeling upset was, of course, Nurse Saras, because she thought she already successfully made me eat, she even told the others that I finished and they congratulate me. That's the reason I felt more and more worthless and useless, hopeless, and just everything crash down, like I can't fucking even let me be "okay" for one moment. I just know how to fucked it up. I was crying myself to sleep that night. 

Day 3.
Boring day, It's a Public Holiday, because its Prophet's Birthday Celebration. No expert came, only a psychiatrist  to check in what I'm feeling today. Nothing really happened today, another war with my foods and the nurses, and I was being threat again to put on tube and iv drip. so I was trying harder this day to eat without purging. I met Nurse Ashiqin yesterday, and she was one of the nurses that try to persuade me to eat. But she is the most kindest and polite with me, others were polite as well, it just others were too 'fierce'. Nurse Ashiqin were sat beside me and talk to me and keep me feel comfortable. I like her. She was so nice and pretty and lovely and soft and everything beautiful.. She is beautiful. Okay, I don't know what I nonsense I am talking about. She told me about how life is supposed to be for me, how I should not end it because of my family matters, and how I should re-think bout my mother's feeling when she knows about this. My mother was sad about it, was mad, but in control of her feelings.That is why I love my mother so much, she never outbursts everything, she keep it under control. She is calm in the best way she can, she doesn't show much about how upset she was. But i know deep down she is crying and begging to God for my safety.

A psychiatrist, named Sathya, came in the evening to do some work, but she had time to check me in, I told her I can't feel anything, I felt numb. And she says, "sometimes it is better to not fell anything at all than have to deal with so many feelings, right?" "Take care, don't think too much okay." I burst into tears, even it's just a simple words.. yet it's true. Feeling numb is sometimes more 'okay'. 

Day 4.
I had a fever on this day and somewhat asthma, I can't sleep well. My body temperature was at 37.8°C but the nurses took it as 40°C. I had to have Paracetamol and my medication. I was changed into a tablet medication on day 2, actually.Because I told the expert that, my arm felt uneasy and lethargic. so they changed it into a Saphris, Asenapine sublingual tablet, where I should let it melt under my tongue. It felt bitter and hard to swallow the remain liquid.. I had to eat something else to cover the taste. But I started to eat well today, I cant eat all that I have to. I didn't purge it. But still the overwhelming guilty was there trying and trying to make me do it. I was not well so basically I just sleep all day. Lol

Day 5. 
I had a very uncomfortable night on this day. Because of my "asthma" kicks in. I can barely breathing right, I feel so much pain on my stomach and my throat. -- Rasa nak robek-robek je tekak aku masa tu. Even till today (7 December 2017) I still have problem with my throat. -- Memang rasa nak koyak je tekak ni weh.-- I can't sleep very well because of this, but I was so ready for the next day.. because.. it's a new week, and it's Monday, where all the experts and psychiatrist come to check all the patient's concern. 

On night, I had a little talk with the nurse Ashiqin and Kamariah. Nurse Kamariah sat on my bed and talked a lot of things about life. while I ate a medication called MMT for my bloated stomach because of gastritis. Nurse Kamariah is also one of my favorite person in the ward after, Nurse Ashiqin and Saras. Nurse Kamariah told me that "HIdup ni memang banyak sangat cabaran, kalau dengan satu cabaran alin dah tak kuat macam mana Tuhan nak nilai alin? Alin kena kuat, kena lawan suara-suara tu. Alin kuat tau cuma alin banyak terikut suara-suara tu punya arahan. Alin kena sedar mana antara suara diri alin yang betul atau tidak, even alin kata suara-suara tu macam kawan alin and alin tak boleh resist, Alin kena juga lawan sebab tengoklah diri alin sendiri, kurus sangat sampai nampak jelas tulang-tulang ni. Habis satu badan penuh parut, alin tak boleh macam ni selamanya. Alin kena kuat." (yes, I realized that I'm already dying being bony) --She even touched my backbones and my collarbones. She told me that, I need to fight for my own-self, my mother and my siblings. 

Day 6.
This is the day that I need to discharge. I want to get out from the ward so badly! because it was super bored in there. and today is the day where I can meet again my Psychiatrist, Dr. Ahmad and others, Dr. Nora, Dr Semran, Dr. Najib, Dr. Ayu, Dr. Arif etc. So many experts and Psychiatrist came to ask how my day was. I was confidently told him that I was fine! I was ecstatically happy that  the voices aren't there so often anymore, I could eat properly now, even so still there is the struggle with the body image and voices saying to not eat again etc. But I was fine this day. So they let me discharge and had an injection for slower the voices and had my Saphris as my medication at home and Lorazepam as my sleeping pills (they gave 4 tabs only considering that I will overdose over it). 

I was a bit sad to leave the ward but I am happy to be free as well! There's actually many bad things happens as well, that I choose not to write here because I don't to ruin my mood today. Bad things aren't suppose to be told right? We tell positive things, and we take the positive ones. I hope I could do well in recovery this time. Because I had so many relapses in recovery path before. 

And by the way, my psychiatrist want me to the Electroconvulsive Theraphy (ECT) for my Major Depressive Disorder with Psychosis. I don't know about it yet, I will write the experience here if I go for it. 

Thank you so much for those that pray for my safety, my blessing, while I'm stuck in ward. Thank you for not giving up on me yet, thank you for supporting me, for keep staying for me. I will try harder this time. Even I know, I already said this, I will try again. Trying has no ends. Stay safe & stay alive! xx

wiltedrose.s xx