No heroes, no saviors

This is a 4am blog post. Raw emotions have been flowing for the last 2 hours. I have 2 hours of sleep.

This is the most raw, unfiltered, and vulnerable thing I'll maybe ever write.

Please be kind.

. . .

For a long time I've known that I have to save myself.

There's no magic pills.

There's no magic person.

No heroes.

No saviors.

I have to save myself.

This has been a mantra of mine for the last few years.

No heroes.

No saviors.

I have to save myself.

What it means to me

I have

I have OCD.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is a difficult condition that makes existing very difficult.

OCD makes your mind a hostile place to life in, attacks everything that you stand for, and makes your life so miserable that you spend it compulsively trying to make the pain go away.

OCD is extremely difficult to work through.

. . .

I have Bipolar Disorder type 2.

Bipolar Disorder is a difficult condition that makes existing very difficult.

Bipolar makes life a roller coaster between blazing highs where I burn myself to a crisp, and crippling lows where I believe that there's no hope for me.

Bipolar disorder is extremely difficult to work through.

. . .

I am autistic.

Autism is a difficult condition that makes existing very difficult.

Autism makes life a guessing game of how to not be hurt. How to not be hurt by other people, whether that's directly by being taken advantage of or bullied, or indirectly by being rejected for who you are as a person. How to not get hurt by your environment, by the sounds, the smells, the bright lights of the world.

Autism is extremely difficult to work through.

. . .

I have cPTSD.

Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a difficult condition that makes existing very difficult.

cPTSD makes your body feel perpetually unsafe in a way that makes every moment feel like it might be your last. A constant state of nervous system activation that is so exhausting to experience.

cPTSD is extremely difficult to work through.

I needed

I needed someone to make things better.

Someone to save me.

Someone to be there to catch me when I fell.

Someone to put me back together when I broke.

When my mind and my life broke me.

But no one was there to save me.

No heroes.

No saviors.

I have to save myself.

I thought medication would save me

I thought as long as I was on the right meds it would save me.

9 years ago, when I first started on SSRIs, I thought that it would cure me.

That I would be saved by those little pills.

That everything would be okay once I took them.

None of them worked.

. . .

2 years ago I tried medication again, out of desperation.

I thought, "I just need to be on them for a year or two and I'll stabilize and be able to come off of them"

How silly of me, to think I would ever come off of psychiatric medication.

Surprisingly, they did work.

My medications do make my life easier. Quantifiably easier. Definitively easier.

But they aren't a magic bullet.

I still have days so difficult that I can't really describe them.

Half of my conditions are untreatable by psychiatric medication, namely autism and cPTSD.

Medication was not my savior. It helps but it isn't any savior.

I have to save myself.

I thought that therapy would save me

When I first started therapy 9 years ago I thought it would save me.

That these people I was paying so much money to go see would have the knowledge, the words, the experience that I would need.

That they would be able to save me from the suffering I experienced every single day.

I was let down by my first therapist.

I was let down by my second therapist.

I was let down by my university counsellor.

I was traumatized by my next university counsellor.

And so on.

9 years would pass before I found a therapist that could connect with me and truly be able to help my complex web of trauma and suffering.

In those handful of sessions we made so much progress.

In that moment, in one of my darkest months, she was there to pick me up and get me back on my feet.

But she is no savior.

After I left residential, I had to leave her behind as well.

No heroes.

No saviors.

I have to save myself.

. . .

Therapists can only do so much.

A therapist who specializes in OCD will know nothing about trans trauma.

A queer therapist who specializes in queer trauma will have no idea how to deal with bipolar disorder.

A bipolar specialist will have no idea how to deal with autism stressors.

An autism expert will have no idea how to deal with intense OCD and its associated traumas.

Therapists are only human and can only do so much.

Finding a perfect therapist is something that I've given up hope on.

Finding someone who understands those 4 conditions is already impossible enough, then to add on the cherries on top of more than one source of cPTSD trauma as well as plurality, finding someone that can understand me is impossible.

I've given up on finding that person.

On finding someone who can give me CBT, DBT, IFS, ACT, EMDR, ERP. Someone who can competently practice in the 6 domains that I need, on 4 disorders that are extremely difficult to work through on their own.

I've given on that.

I use therapists as supports in the ways that they're able to support me.

I've given up on finding a person who can fully support my every need.

Actually, given up isn't the right term.

I've found the person that will be my savior, who understands me fully, who is able to make my life better.

I found the expert on me.

No heroes.

No saviors.

I have to save myself.

. . .

I have to save myself

I've always known this, I just didn't want to accept it.

I didn't want to accept that nothing was going to save me.

Because the wall that stands before me is truly, truly, immense.

A diamond wall that I just have to slowly chip at, one little piece at a time

I simply have to keep going.

No matter how tired I get.

No matter how badly I just want to give up.

I have to keep going.

I will find escapes to cope.

I will find meaning in the struggle, because otherwise I'd simply go insane.

I will struggle.

I will struggle and struggle and struggle some more.

But I will keep going.

Because I have to save myself.

I simply have to keep going.

Keep going.

No heroes.

No saviors.

I simply have to save myself.

This project

That's ultimately what this project is.

This project is me saving myself.

Me finding the words that will save me.

Me saving myself.

If I save anyone else as a side effect of this, if any of my words touch someone and help them heal, then that'll be a good side benefit.

But ultimately, this is a selfish project.

This is me prioritizing myself.

This is me saving myself.

Remember.

No heroes.

No saviors.

I have to save myself.

I WILL save myself.

. . .

This concludes Act 1 of Finding the Words

Stay safe out there.

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