All I have to say is YES.

And to think how many people in our school are like that.... *rolls eyes*

--

With Mania as my Lord,
And Word as my Savior,
I shall turn my blood to ink,
And my skin to paper.

_{I have both anxiety and depression, but I've never seen anyone fake anything but depression before.
It is wrong though. I've missed out on a lot of things in life because my anxiety freaked out on me. I don't know why someone would have any desire to want to be like that. I would assume it's for attention, but you never know.
You never know if they're even lying, honestly, though sometimes it's clear it's a lie.
I don't really know how one would ever go about solving this problem, but I suppose it's a part of human life. Liars will always be there, regardless of the issue.}

--
_{"Roses are red
Violets are blue
In Soviet Russia
Poem writes you!"}

I've had all three, and believe me, I know what you mean with missing out on life because of anxiety. I once locked myself in the bathroom when a friend came over to spend the night, and that was only a few months ago. A 15 year old not being able to have people over? I've been driven to shameful lengths because of everything; hell, I almost shaved my head bald when I dyed my hair because I woke up in the middle of the night freaking out over it (luckily I didn't, cause that would've only made things worse). It's embarrassing, and more then that, it ruins the view on one's self.

I've know people who've lied about depression. And if you look on the internet, you can spot people lying about it. I've seen people lie about being Bi-Polar (the most bizarre thing to lie about), and when explaining it.. well, lets just say they either have no clue what BPD is, or they are poorly misinformed of their condition. And then when I mention that I've dealt with depression, been diagnosed with BPD and an anxiety disorder which I had to take medication that made me sick to my stomach everyday for, some people go off on my saying I'm one of those lying about it. But, why would I want to lie about something like this? Why would anyone? I'd give anything to turn back time, erase the scars on my arms, stop myself from the digging holes I'd dug trying to cope.

And yet, people go around lying about these problems. You're right, sometimes it is hard to tell, and the times when it is I just hope they get through it if they are being truthful. But other times it's obvious when it's a lie. And that percent of stories out there that is clearly fake is what makes everyone seem like a liar sometimes. I don't know why some people lie, attention probably, or maybe because this whole 'emo' thing is getting pretty popular. You know some people at my school yell at others for dressing in black, because they're 'emo posers' who don't understand the meaning of the fashion? And, of course, even mention and problem and they'd call it a lie. It's sickening, because during the darkest years of my life, I was afraid to even mention any of my problems to friends because I'd thought they be like those people calling everyone a poser. Hell, even on the internet I'm paranoid about the same thing. I don't strive for attention, so, when I see people tell me and others that we're liars I wonder why someone would lie about stuff like this to begin with.

Why the hell would breaking down on the bathroom floor in hysterics over someone staying the night, for reasons unknown (which is scarier then one could think), be popular? Why would wanting to die, feeling like the world hates you, be a feeling so many wish they had? And why would someone lie about riding an emotion roller coaster with so many twists and turns that you no longer know what will make your mood go from being the happiest in the school to wanting to carve our your own eyes?

It's so strange, years ago people would lie about being happy and rich and popular, and now people lie about being mentally ill and poor and unloved. Misery, it would seem, is the new black. ....And god that sounds like a bad pun.

--

With Mania as my Lord,
And Word as my Savior,
I shall turn my blood to ink,
And my skin to paper.

<sub>My anxiety is not nearly as severe, fortunately. I take medications that make me sick to my stomach for half a week if I forget to take it only once. I freak out when I go over to other's houses or the mall or the movie theaters and sometimes even things like going to school. I only have friends that are really, really close to me over. I don't spend time with many people out of school. I've honestly, learned how to control it a lot better and what makes it worse. I've learned that if I eat, it makes it worse, and that laying down helps.

I'd do anything to erase the scars too, but at the same time, I would like to keep them, to remind myself not to do it again. I don't ever want to do it again.

It's always been horribly difficult to explain disorders to people. No one who hasn't been right there in our shoes has no idea, really. I've gotten up the courage to tell most of my close friends about it, but it's hard to understand. They always say, "Nothing's going to happen" or "It's O.K. It'll be fine." But it doesn't matter if it will be fine or not. It doesn't change a single thing.

And that is a horribly ironic truth. I think, it's another form of attempting to attract attention, honestly. It's just different tactics.

If you ever need to talk to someone about it all, I'm here for you. I can't guarantee that I'll be able to understand your Bi-polar disorder, but God help me I'll try. My mom's always been there for me when I need her, so that has always helped. So if you ever need me, just send me a message or something, I'll reply as soon as humanly possible.</sub>

--
_{"Roses are red
Violets are blue
In Soviet Russia
Poem writes you!"}

Anxiety has to be one of the worst things to have. Mine is kinda an off-set from BPD. For me, it's gotten a bit better. I use to take medication, but, the doctor had me stop cause it really didn't agree with me. But, I was in therapy for a while and I think that was an okay substitution. However, due to the things going on in my life that caused everything to really hit me full-on, I left therapy. I couldn't tell the guy everything because my parents had to sign some paper that said whatever I told him could be told to a third party. My brother filing false abuse reports on my parents lead to the fact that I can't talk to a professional without information being leaked. And, well, the things I've done that I needed therapy for could have sent the wrong signals.

Personally, I wouldn't want a reminder. Self-harm was. . . well, it backfired on me. I used it to escape my anxiety issues, only for it to drive me insane with even more anxiety to the point where I broke down and told my parents. And, of course, nothing spells family love like my mom telling me to wear longs sleeves so no one will think I'm a freak. I took it with a grain of salt, as my mom is Bi-Polar (sucks that it's inheritable) and her view on something can change at any moment.

For me, I find that just keeping myself busy helps ease the nervous, panicky feelings. Lying down... not so much. When my anxiety acts up, I can't stop thinking. I can't tune out of my thoughts, or even think of something other then what's causing the panic. So, when I try to sleep or lie down it gets worse. Eating... well, I'd puke it back up so it's definitely out of the question. ^-^"

My friends that I've told about my problems had varied responses. One friend threatened to tell her parents about my, uh, unorthodox methods of trying to keep control if I didn't get a handle on things, another went on a rant about how her life is worse (managing to avoid saying why, imagine that), and there was one who was going through some of the same things. Only the latter I knew understood enough to understand that nothing someone can say will truly make things better. The one friend who tried to stay the night tried guilting me into letting her stay after my breakdown, and then decided that she would keep trying to spend the night to 'get me use to the idea.' I suppose it's noble in nature, but, it was hard to explain that things didn't exactly work that way. Anxiety doesn't let you adjust to things. It's like shoving a square peg into a circle hole. The peg isn't going in unless you change it, because the circle isn't going to change for the peg because it 'gets use to the idea' of a square peg. At least, that's the best way I can explain it.

Different tactics and different things seen as popular. Whatever is popular becomes the tactic, and these days it's acting like the world hates you.

And, thanks. That really means a lot. You'd probably be able to grasp BPD more then someone who hasn't had anxiety problems or depression, two things that are pretty prominent in it. It's like... going from one mind set to another either without any real reason or from a slight trigger. Take for example, my quitting self-mutilation. At first, I'm panicky and guilty over it, so I want to stop and tell my parents. But the next day, I'm panicky and guilty of quitting to the point where I'm sitting at my desk in school trying to tear a corner off my ID card so it's sharp enough to draw blood. Only, that drastic change happens a lot quicker. Thus the roller coaster metaphor I used a while ago, up one second, down the next. But by far worse, for me at least, was the grey areas. Neither up nor down, but hanging somewhere in between feeling numb, to use such a horrible cliche. It's like roller coaster stopping upside down. It's... unpleasant and typically that's where anxiety can set it. And, BPD can also affect what someone believes. My mom goes from saying she had BPD to saying she doesn't on a regular basis, even though she'd taking medication for it (or at least she's suppose to be). One thing about it that would be the hardest to understand, I think, is that when you have BPD, on a good day, you really will believe you are perfectly fine. Before I was diagnosed, I thought I was making things up in my imagination about the breakdowns, and then I'd have another one, or have a mood change drastically a few times during school and suddenly think I was unbelievably messed-up. That, if anything, is the part someone would really have to be experienced with to fully understand. And that's how I know when someone is lying about having BPD, because they think it's only emotions. It's the mindset as well. And, well, there is a lot more to it, but, those are usually the things that are the hardest to grasp, even for people who have it. And that's why I simply can't understand when people lie about having BPD. Depression, yes, because it'd being seen as a fade. Anxiety, yes, to get pity or attention. But BPD? It's just bizarre.

But, I digress a bit. Thank you. It's, well, I can't think of a the right word to say what it's like to know you have someone to talk to who can understand or who will try—so many people don't even try to understand, not even my parents sometimes—so it really does mean a lot. The same goes for you as well, if you need someone to talk to—or rant to lol—about something, I'd reply as soon as I'd see the message.

--

With Mania as my Lord,
And Word as my Savior,
I shall turn my blood to ink,
And my skin to paper.

<sub>That sounds really hard. I have a rather typical, happy family, which I am so happy for. I have a close friend who has an alchohaulic dad, a Bi-Polar, drug-addicted, abusive mom, and a bulimic sister. She lives with her step-mom's parents, her step-mom, her sister, and two little brothers. So, I've seen some bad scenes, even though they didn't happen in my own family.

I think the theory behind therapy ranges from mainly talking about your problems and seeing it from a different perspective. Therapists never really helped me. In a sense, my mom has been my therapist. I'm sure that has helped downgrade my problems a lot.

Self-harm was more of my way of expirementing in 7th grade. I still don't really know why I did it. I was trying to help myself, but it really didn't help. Then I did it again just a month or two ago after a fight with my mom. I was kind of dizzy and not thinking and trying to deal with my anger. I broke out into hysterical crying afterwards because I always told myself I would never do it again. I still think it was stupid, and unlike in 7th grade, when I'd tell anyone willingly begging for attention (god I was stupid), I only told two people this time, my closest friend, and now you.

That's a really good comparison, if you ask me.

I know what that numb feeling feels like. I don't like it either.
I remember thinking that I just had stomach problems in elementary school. The doctor had a whole bunch of tests done on me only to figure out that it wasn't even a stomach problem. I remember thinking something was wrong with me then back then.
I think I understand the whole mindset thing. You mean like you have different opinions and feelings towards things, right?
I think it's bizarre too.

I know what you mean. Thank you too. I try to understand people's problems as best I can. I just, I really, honest to god, want to help people, because sometimes that's all people need, is someone who will help you out when you need it. I feels useless when I'm physically unable to help someone. Maybe I'm too nice, but sometimes, it just takes one person to turn someone's day, or even life, around, and if I can do that, I'll give my all into it.</sub>

--
_{"Roses are red
Violets are blue
In Soviet Russia
Poem writes you!"}

My family life is... complicated. My dad use to be an alcoholic, so my sympathies to your friend. But, I use to think he came a long way to quitting, because it does take a lot to change. But then my mom starting telling me things a few weeks ago, that he was an abusive drunk. But, I don't remember those kinds of things in my childhood. So, either it's my mom's BPD acting up, or I've mentally blocked it. I get along great with my dad, so it's confusing. As for my brother... I haven't seen him in a year. He ran away a couple days before my 15th birthday to be with a 39 year old woman. Tore my family to ruins, really, and after a certain point I broke from the pressure of it all and started self-harm. Sadly, I was. . . well, fascinated with it. Addicted, one might say, to my own misery and the methods of coping with it. I'm still struggling with it, but, I haven't touched a blade since March and I'm proud of myself for it. But it just goes to show, some of the worst scenes happen in families. Hopefully your friend is coping well with her problems.

Therapy is one of those things I toyed around with. Sometimes I'd lie, sometimes I'd tell the truth, and from there I'd just listen to the responses I'd get. However, after being truthful I got three papers on how to have a 'brighter outlook at one's self and the world.' Also a sheet on teenage BPD, which I had to lie on a few times because of the non-confidentiality of it all. I've seen more cops talking to me about abuse from my parents then anyone should in a life time, I don't want to see more because my therapist thought I was doing self-harm because of abuse.

And... 7th grade. I shutter just remembering that year. It seems to be bad luck for a lot of people, oddly enough. I was pretty depressed then. Suicidal, to be honest. But, I didn't start cutting then. 12 seems to be the age were things either go wrong or don't go at all, huh? I remember a girl in my 7th grade math class got caught slicing her wrists with scissors by a few students, who proceeded to tell the whole school. Really, I was marveled at how someone could inflict pain on themselves. And now with the experience myself, it's still a marvel. My arm sometimes aches, like it would with a fresh cut, and it's odd how at one point I'd have winced or rubbed my arm vigorously (I had, and still have somewhat, an extreme fear of pain), but now I just get those tingles in my arm and neck. I'd told, maybe, three people that I did self-harm when I was doing it. And only the one who had done it themselves could understand the deal with the pain. Really, though, it's interesting. Sometimes, I didn't even feel anything; just that tingly sensation that said 'Oh, so that's why people do it.' After the fact, though, I think I opened up a bit more. Some people are horrified at the idea (look around on the internet, there's always someone condemning it), but I'm more open about it because, well, someone has to be a voice of reason for it. Someone who doesn't lie about it, or pretend to know about it. I remember I had one friend over the internet who I told (it's easier to talk to people about problems over the internet for reason, I guess because there this almost anonymous feeling with it, no strings attached.), and when I explained I actually changed what they once thought of it, which was that it was just for attention. It felt kinda nice to make someone who's probably never faced serious depression understand a bit more.

I cringed a bit reading about the doctor thing. I know, weird, but I don't like tests from the doctors. Deja vu of heart sonograms and heart-monitors. Lol, I think I'm forever scarred after all these trips to the doctors these past few months. XD But, digressing... I hate it when numbness and anxiety also affect how I'm feeling. I get nauseated when I'm having an anxiety attack, and when I nauseated, like actually sick, I sometimes think it's the anxiety and that leads to a bad day at school. It really mixes me up sometimes. X) And, I know, it's an odd thing to find funny. But, I'm trying to be a bit more light-hearted here.

And, yes, it's like stark different opinions on the same thing. It's not at the same time for me though, it's just changes a lot. If it was at the same time things would be pretty difficult, I'd image. But like I said, BPD is kinda confusing—yet oddly doesn't cause it—and there are a lot of parts to it from what I've been told by doctors and from my experiences with it. It's a hard thing to correctly diagnose the first time, I've heard, because some of it's symptoms are like anxiety disorders and depression. In a way, it's almost as if it includes those (which it probably does).

There need to be more people like that in the world, those wanting to really help others. I don't think there's such a thing as too nice when it comes to stuff like this. I myself am not the best with advice, but sometimes all someone needs is to just talk about something. To say it out loud or get it all typed down and have someone hear them out. That's why I'm usually open about somethings, because I can get it out in the air and that puts it into perspective for me. And because of this I usually try to get people who are depressed to tell me whats going on. I may not have advise or the right words to say, but they still need to talk about it. It's the very basics of therapy, just voicing problems.

--

With Mania as my Lord,
And Word as my Savior,
I shall turn my blood to ink,
And my skin to paper.

<sub>I help my friend out a lot with all that stuff, talking and stuff. She always smiles and laughs though. It amazes me that she can. That's not right that your brother would do that, but if what he says is true, your dad could have been an abusive drunk and with your brother being older, he may have remembered it better and not blocked it out. Just a possibility.

I went to therapy with this one woman and I could barely stand it. She seemed so...perfect, like she couldn't possibly begin to understand. She had these almost ignorant suggestions like, "write down your feelings" and it never helped. She was a nice woman, but she didn't help me at all. I probably just had a bad experience, but I don't exactly have a wonderful mindset about professional therapy.

I think it may just be a bad year. It's when hormones start to hit and drama starts to happen. My close friend (with the bad family) had just moved somewhat far away that year, so that didn't help. She was basically my only close friend, so I ended up feeling pretty alone in an unfamiliar enviornment. I was so close to commiting suicide that year. Of course, I'm not sure how well a BB gun would have aided in suicide. Hahahaha
I've never actually felt that. I might've in 7th grade, but I don't particularly remember, to be honest. I was too light-headed and blinded by anger to feel it a few months ago.
And of course, getting rid of the ignorance is the first step to allowing a person to understand others better.

It wasn't a whole lot, mainly one I remember in particular where I had to drink this nasty stuff, not eat all day, and get blood taken every hour to test for lactose-intolerance. God, that was bad. I developed a fear of needles after all that.
I've made that mistake before, but I usually straighten it out soon enough to calm my stomach down with a wet rag. (If you put a cold, wet rag on your stomach, it makes you less nauseas)

I can sort-of feel what that's like. Not fully, of course, but I can sort-of imagine it by adding in some of my own experiences--If that makes any sense.

I think that people have learned that sometimes you need to care for yourself, and taken it too far. I, honestly, think that the majority of the human race has gone downhill in this generation. And the sad part is, I'm FROM this generation, and I'm saying it. People are ignorant, and too busy with their own lives to take a look around them and see if they can help somebody with their's. Of course, some people just can't, because of money, time or whatever else, but those who can, should.
I like to think I'm pretty good with advice, but sometimes, there's just no advice you can give to people. Sometimes, there's nothing you can do, and that's the hardest part about being a considerate person, is when you can't do anything but sit on the sidelines and watch things get worse and worse. It makes me feel so helpless that I can't do anything.

Also; I meant to say something about your friends' reactions in the last message, but I only remembered after I'd sent it. I think your friend who threatened to tell was just trying to help motivate you into stopping the behaviour, but I think the best way to do that is just to tell your opinion on the matter and support the notion of stopping, not threating to tell.
I think it's absolutely ridiulous to go on ranting about how "your life is worse" when someone is sharing their problems with you. It's just not right. & Have you ever noticed that people who do that usually don't have worse lives?</sub>

--
_{"Roses are red
Violets are blue
In Soviet Russia
Poem writes you!"}

That's what my guess was. My brother is year older then me, so it's possible he'd remember if my mom was abused or not, and if he did that may be why he thinks it's okay to physically hurt people (he's broken my mom's finger and bruised her rib when she found him at a shelter in Hollywood after running away and tried to get him to come home). The thing is, though, ever since my dad quite drinking I've gotten along better with him then my mom, so trying to believe he was abusive is... hard. And confusing.

I don't know, but, using a BB gun sure would hurt. XD I can't remember my reason for being so unhappy with my life. There were no problems at home that I can remember. At school, not a lot of people liked me, but, I don't think that was the reason. Perhaps the beginnings of BPD? Hm.

Well, anger does numb some people to pain and such. I was never angry when I did it, and almost over-aware of everything, but anxiety does that to people so, I guess it's all on a matter of emotion with it.

Sounds horrible. I could never get blood taken every hour. I already hate needles, as is. The worst I've ever had for testing was getting a bunch of blood drawn, then an IV stuck in one arm for an hour. I was being tested for anemia, and the IV had something to do with me needing more... something. I fainted at school, so, whatever it was I needed it was getting pumped back in. As for the recent tests, I think the worst was having a heart-rate monitor strapped onto me for a day. And I'll have to remember that trick with the wet rag, sounds like it'll save me a lot of trouble.

That makes sense. The best way to understand something, even if only by an inkling, is to try to compare it to past experiences, after all.

This generation is pretty bad. I mean, there are so many problems that have arisen or gotten worse that could've been prevented or changed if people just try to help one another. Gangs could be prevented from forming or broken up if people cared enough to get kids into after-school programs, or if the states tried to makes schools better. Homeless people could be off the streets if others donated money to shelters. Someone's life could even be saved if you just show them a bit of kindness to keep them from trying to take their own life (a bit drastic, but, I've seen it almost happen). Any bit of kindness counts, and I probably sound like an idealist, but if everyone tried to make life better for others I think things would improve greatly.

I know, my friends intentions were good. She was just a bit drastic with it because she had a friend who nearly killed themselves from it, and from her perspective I think she'd probably jump to what seemed like the quickest way to get me to stop before things got that bad.

And, it is ridiculous. When someone is sharing problems with me, I share mine with them so they know they can trust me. But I don't go making it seem like my life is worse. My friend that does this, though, she typically does it with health problems more then family problems. I complain about something during PE, she has to have it ten times worse. She's a good friend, but, sometimes I think she just wants attention. I actually snapped during PE once when I was having a lot of trouble breathing and felt like I was going to pass out and told her 'Look, just be thankful you don't have it as bad as me right now!' She shut up immediately.

Yes, I have noticed that. Whether or not my friend has a worse life, though, is debatable. Her father is in jail, and her mom has a disease that could kill her—however my friend acts like she doesn't care about that. But her family seems to adore her, I've never heard anything bad about her step-father, and according to her she gets hit on and asked out by guys all the time, a lot of her guy friends are in love with her, and she just all around has a lot of friends. So, the stuff with her dad and mom is bad, but, whenever I share my problems, that isn't was she rants about oddly enough. It's usually her family forcing her to do stuff with them (what family doesn't do that?), babysitting, and then some other stuff about drama with friends and guys. But, whether or not her life is worse, it doesn't really mean that she can disregard my problems as petty like I have no right to complain. She should share them in a way that says 'I know what you're going though, I have this going' not 'you're life is gold compared to mine, I have to deal with this.'

Even if someone has a worse life, though, when someone shares problems with them they shouldn't flaunt it. Everyone had problems, and to them they are important. Just because someone's life isn't as bad doesn't mean what they're going through isn't devastating.

--

With Mania as my Lord,
And Word as my Savior,
I shall turn my blood to ink,
And my skin to paper.