I’ll put it out there, I like the Obamas, intelligent people of great dignity. I will miss. Them, miss the calm, reassuring voice they provided. I wish America luck, I really do – I hope that, somehow, the words of the outgoing president at having to work hard to keep America working will be heeded.
In Europe, we are the piggy in the middle between two large military powers. We can have about as much effect as a castle built on sand can. I for one, have decided to no longer be worried about things beyond my control. What will happen will happen, I can only hope that cool calm heads, working for the good of all the people’s of this earth will prevail. It might just be the way we survive.
(I do not know the owner of this image if anyone can tell me I will gladly copyright!)
Autism. In some situations, the most useful thing one can have. In this case, truly lifesaving!!! This mum did a fantastic job.
“I wrote this back in October. Then I decided not to post it. Why? Because I feared judgement. When it happened I blamed myself. I should have been watching every second. I should have be…”
Source: The Day my Autism Saved my Daughter’s Life
I was going to start off this blog with something light and airy, vaguely humourous about my attempts at setting up websites or blogs and the like. Instead, I find myself posting about Borderline Personality Disorder (the one everyone thinks they know about) or Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder (the one no one knows quite what it means and sounds relatively harmless. Emotions. Who needs those, right?) as it is now correctly known.
I have EUPD. As much as it sounds like nothing, and as much as I get a reaction of ‘oh, right, that’ when I mention BPD – I’m kind of starting to think there is an advantage to the new name. Consider this: you are finally diagnosed (wether you wanted to be or not) and the medical community suddenly starts treating you that bit more… differently? I’d like to say seriously, but that’s not the experience of the contributor to this article in The Mighty. Her mental health team now simply thought they knew all about her, all from three little letters. B. P. D.
Does she like cats? No idea. Is she more of a dog person? Who knows. Does she prefer classical music over jazz and does she prefer a latte over a cappuccino? And these are only the simplistic (if occasionally significant) things that make up the person with whom the medical community sees fit to deal with, all and only through the lense of three little letters. B. P. D.
They feel like a chain around my neck. I’m ‘lucky’ I have aspergers, it is written in my file in neon (well, it’s typed there anyway) that I am meticulously honest and tell people how I feel/what I am doing (assuming I know myself). That… takes a little of the pressure off but I now understand why my mental health worker was at such great pains to point this out to anyone new seeing me. She knew me before and after I became ‘official’ you see.
In fairness to my mental health team, I have been treated exceptionally well and with great kindness, the medical staff at the local medical hospital and my GP surgery have all been brilliant (and all on the wonderful NHS!). I’ve not suffered much from the stigma amongst HCPs and it is nice to know in a way, what it is, that this thing that makes my Crazy act out has a name. It’s why I prefer the new name though, I prefer having to explain it to strangers rather have them think they know me because of an eposide of Criminal Minds or something.
Still, I’d rather give the whole thing back, but then, I wouldn’t be me, would I.
This is the excerpt for your very first post.
“This is your very first post.” No it’s not. Turns out though, I can’t even blog in the right order. My mental health note about an article in The Mighty is actually the first… but I should have posted it under this bit here… Lord. Blogging is complicated. I can already see these waters will be murky for a while, I must watch closely.