Dear Diary,
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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Oct 3, 2020
A journey through the mind of a woman with Bipolar, Borderline Personality Disorder and an Eating Disorder. I have struggled with being overweight and according to doctors "morbid obese" since I could remember. I was diagnosed with Bipolar, PTSD at the age of 25. From a young age I developed a liking for food, and since it has always been my stablizer for emotions. My go to when I'm in need of love or when I'm bored. Updated 8/11/19: At the age of 36, I was diagnosed with BPD (borderline personality disorder) It was noticeable, and a possible DX by the same doctors when I was 25, but they couldn't determine completely, as the DBT classes they wanted me to take then, I had no interest in whatsoever. On a side note, I never did proceed with the Bariatric surgery. At this time, I have decided against it, and am currently trying still, on my own.
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"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboard

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