Featured: Who am I really?
SchizophreniaHolding on to a thought has always been... difficult for me. They're so rarely interesting enough to hold my attention for more than a few seconds. Quite often, I'll tune out what someone is saying because something they said sparks a thought which leads to another thought which leads to another thought...Schizophrenia by CatharticDistraction
No, I don't get distracted by shiny objects. I'm a human, not a magpie.
I never really cared that I wasn't listening to what people were saying. My thoughts, as cascading as they are, were always more interesting than they were. Eventually, I did away with people entirely, living in my own stream of consciousness. Even now, it is difficult to continue mustering the willpower to finish this, instead of rushing off to read a Virginia Woolf novel.
Then, after I'd isolated myself from all those boring people and their slow, mundane thoughts, I became aware of a shift in my own though processes. I noticed that, when having a thought, I'd finish thinking the end of the thought before I'd a
StrengthMy grandfather was the strongest man I ever met. If you’ve ever seen someone on TV perform some superhuman feat of strength and thought that it wasn’t real, you’ve never met my grandfather. I have seen him rip a telephone book in half. He reached his full height of 6”4’ at the age of fourteen, and by the age of fifteen he had left school to work in the metal works. No one thought twice about it, because he was more than capable of the work and looked older than he was.Strength by CatharticDistraction
I am not strong. My joints frequently hurt, although I do not think I can convey to you how much of an understatement the word ‘hurt’ is in this situation. Most people didn’t understand why I didn’t run as long or as fast as the other children, or take delight in the frequent football scrimmages that almost all the boys I knew took such delight in. when I told them “I can’t, my legs ache,” they just told me to be strong.
My grandfather didn’t.
Avoidant Personality DisorderI've never gotten to explain this to anyone before, since every time I try, I break into some sort of sobbing fit. If my explanation sounds a little funky, that may be why.Avoidant Personality Disorder by Miellat
Yeah. So, I have APD, or Avoidant Personality Disorder.
To summarize, it's a disorder that makes people want to avoid social contact and criticism by all means.
Unfortunately, that includes me.
I didn't know about the disorder until I browsed through psychological disorders for writing purposes, and happened to find it. I matched every single symptom.
Every last one, period. And I believe, wholeheartedly, that I have it.
This isn't your WebMD diagnosis, not when you feel so badly.
It's a really difficult feeling to describe.
Whenever you so much as try to make conversation with any person, you feel like chopping your head off. In my case, you're afraid to say hello. Or goodbye, or thank you, or I love you, or things that people should be able to say without stopping to think.
You feel unworthy o
Silver Linings Versus DarknessEdit: Monday, May 5, 8:47 P.M.Silver Linings Versus Darkness by hopeburnsblue
By the gentle urgings of Edges-to-Everything, I have decided to submit this journal entry to Spreading-Awareness, which is undergoing a bit of a renaissance. Some of you may remember the article I wrote for S.A. last summer during my brief but enlightening time as a group admin. When I reread that post tonight before sending it to Michael so he could get an idea of what I'd written before, I realized that it'd really only just begun to touch upon my experience with blindness.
Despite being flattered by Michael's request to add this post to S.A.'s gallery, I also felt uneasy about it. Even though I preach nonstop about how important it is for us to express ourselves, and even though this post is technically available to the public eye anyway, for some reason I feared that the below scrawlings of my soul might be perceived as a cry for attention. Since I'm still feeling a bit of trepidation whe
|ItDoesNotHaveMe is an awareness group on deviantART started by opioid after unexpected but incredibly positive feedback for her Lyme Disease article on dA's editorial news. It is a place where artists coping with illness--either physical or mental, their own or a loved one's--can seek out a headquarters for awareness and expression.|
Submissions to the group's gallery should be directly related to an illness or condition. There must be a mention of this illness or condition in the Artist's Comments.
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