julianbaker09

wants to live.



I'm doing 18 things
 
Recent entries
read more for fun (read all 12 entries…)
Bloodletting

But there were some things that I couldn’t change: I still didn’t trust men. I didn’t hate them, but didn’t trust them. My solution was to beat them at their own game, to become the girl who didn’t want a relationship, who was happy to have a fling. It was less humiliating than getting attached to someone only to find they weren’t interested in anything other than my body—or, to be more precise, sex. By keeping my expectations very, very low, I was able to avoid feeling, well, anything. (60)

The day I’d first cut myself, a switch in my head had been flicked. Instead of feeling horror, I felt nothing, and although I no longer wanted to hurt myself, my episodes of self-harm still felt normal for me in a way. I’d sometimes forget it still shocked other people. (124)

One of the other patients then interrupted. “It seems pretty simple to me. If you didn’t have such high expectations, you wouldn’t feel so stressed when they’re not met, and then you wouldn’t want to harm yourself.” Problem solved.
How could I make them understand that if I lowered my expectations, it would lead to feeling disappointed in myself and feeling miserable…(178-179)

Although it’s now six years since I last picked up a razor blade, I’m still acutely conscious of the damage I did. I can’t be otherwise; whenever I shower, pick up something, shake hands with someone, or even lie in bed at night with a book, I can see the scars. Sometimes i pull the sheet up so as not to be reminded, but really, there’s no way I’m going to be able to forget what I did. And thought. But maybe that’s no bad thing. It’s a warning against complacency, as well as being a constant reminder of how much better things can be. (208)

As I read this book, thinking about how the author viewed herself, I realized I don’t feel this way anymore. I never have the desire to kill myself anymore, and I never have the desire to cut myself anymore. And that’s a liberating thought. At one point, she also mentioned how strange it was for her boss to cut herself—someone who was so clever and caring. No one deserves to feel the need to cut themselves. Life is never as bad as you think it is. You’re stronger than you think. There are other options. I am a caring individual and I am good enough. I am happy that I don’t want to kill myself or hurt myself.



read more for fun (read all 12 entries…)
Saving Normal

Wow. What a powerful book. “I could laugh and smile again.” I never thought that day would come for me. But it did. And it will for you, whoever is reading this looking for some hope. Illustrated by a few cases, I was reminded of the importance of psychotherapy (as opposed to drug therapy) and sharing your innermost thoughts and feelings, no matter how embarrassing, because this can lead to a correct diagnosis or no diagnosis of a mental disorder. By leaving out information about oneself, you are not protecting yourself! The more information, the better. Diagnoses can only be made after a period of time, however long they may be, but cannot be made after only one visit to a psychiatrist. Recognizing patterns is important! After reading this, I feel more aware of what my psychiatrist might be trying to sell me and the drug companies he may be influenced by. Though I now feel skeptical of my diagnoses of depression and GAD and the medication I’ve received. Anyway, the book also encouraged me to continue to explore the idea of counseling for graduate school. I previously believed that I would be incapable of doing this job because I have been labeled with depression and anxiety. But the author mentioned a few cases in which people who had these labels were able to go into this profession, despite the odds. This gives me hope. :)



forget him (read all 4 entries…)
It is possible

I did not think it was possible to get over, to forget, my first love. I pined away after him in my head and my heart for five years. And there was no need to. There was no need to keep him there because that blinded me from seeing the beauty of others. The possibility of others who could care about me. I never thought anyone would love me the way he did, that I would love anyone the way I loved him. But it is possible. Someone is there for you, believe that. Someone will connect with you. I just had to see it to believe it. And I regret holding onto that pain in my heart, not believing that there would be anyone else. I am so glad that I took the chance to get to know someone who erased the pain of five years, just with his caring for me and me caring about him. I just could not believe it.



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