Trauma Doesn't Make You Stronger

 At times, I wonder if anyone else in this world suddenly finds themself utterly exhausted for no apparent reason. It baffles me how people can just keep going on, day after day, doing the same old things, taking a shower, eating, going to the bathroom, going to sleep, and repeat it all the next day. Sometimes I just can't help but feel like there is no purpose for any of this. Why should I wake up, brush my teeth, wash my hair, eat my breakfast? What difference does it make? Would it even matter if I just one day decided not to do those things anymore? Just because I'm tired of it all. It isn't necessarily that I'm tired of something specific – it's more this entire existence that I am fed up with. There are various parts of my existence that surely exhaust me even further, but I don't think I can pin all of it on depression or other mental illnesses. The best way to describe the feeling is to say that my soul feels exhausted. Like it's been here for too lo

 There's a great deal of frustration I've had to deal with during the past couple of months. In a lot of ways, my situation is very stagnant: nothing is happening,  no matter how hard I try, how hard I work, everything's just standing still. Especially regarding my health – I can't get proper treatment before I've moved out of my current city, and that has proved to become such an enormous issue that I am considering contacting an actual lawyer. Currently, the only treatment that I have is medicating; I have several antidepressants, one antipsychotic, and one beta blocker. But no planned therapy or consultation. And that is why I've been getting worse and worse by the day, slowly drifting toward that deep slump of depression I was in last summer.  And all of this just because of one shitty city and their terrible mental health care that puts the blame for their mental suffering on the suicidal person themself.  Because I have no other means of helping myself fee

  This isn't as much of a life update as an advertisement, but I couldn't put that in the headline, now could I? However it may be, I am here to announce the opening of my art shop! It is not anything special, so far I am only selling prints of my already finished pieces, but I hope that will change eventually. I am still not taking commissions as of right now, so the only type of art available for purchasing is part of the art project ' Death On A Paper '.  I chose to manage my sells through Ko-fi because they don't have listing fees or any other fees either – at least not that I am aware of any. I'm also not planning on becoming a full-time commercial artist, meaning turning my art into a production. This is only "a side hustle", as some people might call it. As of right now, I have prints of two of my pieces available (shown below). New listings will appear in time. To enter my art shop, click here ! (link also available in sidebar) ⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

 Last summer, I spent over a month on the psychiatric ward. I was acutely suicidal, I had planned everything for the moment I was going to kill myself. The month I spent in the hospital gave me a lot of answers to my situation, and the most important one of them all was a name for everything that was wrong with me.  Borderline personality disorder.  I met with the ward doctor a few times during my hospital stay. He asked me a lot of questions, some of them more invasive than others. He wanted to get a surface-level understanding of how well I filled the criteria for the BPD diagnosis. He listed the criteria, described the symptoms and asked me if I related to any of them.  One of them was a bit different than the others. He prefaced the question by saying, "Now, the following criteria is really vague, and I can't really give you a solid description of what it actually means, but it's something that almost everyone with BPD seems to understand and relate to the moment I bri