I wouldn’t be here without you. Every bit of support helps me keep creating, and I appreciate it more than words can say! https://ko-fi.com/plumfae
I live on a low income, so I really appreciate any support you can offer me if you’ve enjoyed my content!
Recently I’ve been really struggling with social isolation and feeling very lonely. I live alone, and lost all of my friends after my 2023 mania. I haven’t managed to make anymore yet.
There don’t seem to exist opportunities to meet people where I live. There seems to be a social viewpoint that a worthwhile thirty something is at least a parent, definitely in work, and ideally in a committed relationship. Being outside of those categories means no one wants to know.
I attend a local community hub, that is only open for four hours a day… so this doesn’t fill up much time. It’s also mainly attended by people in their 50s and upwards. Anyone around my age is a volunteer, and thus not allowed to share phone numbers with me. As for volunteering myself, the leaders of the hub don’t seem to think I’m ready to do so…
But then, this isn’t just a here and now problem. It’s a pervasive, lifelong problem. My life story is one of ostracisation and bullying. friendship breakdown and social isolation. It makes me feel like I’m not fit for human interaction, that I don’t fit with my fellow humans… and it reduces my quality of life.
It doesn’t help that I was in a situation where I had no control over where I ended up living. If I was able to work, I’d probably rent a flat in a local city, where there would be greater social opportunities.
I’m really frustrated by my life right now.
The way I posted during and shortly after my hospitalisation has left me feeling out of control of PDAfae. It altered my usual posting style, especially as psychosis causes disorganised speech, which I was still slightly affected by when I returned here.
On Instagram I deleted a few posts to regain a sense of control. I am not sure if the same answer is right here. I might simply alter those posts with a note denoting their circumstances and that I may no longer agree with their content. Some may be deleted though.
It goes without saying that life with disability, is a life lived with limitations. And I suppose also, it’s worth noting that that is every life lived, ever. No one is capable of every single thing ever.
I’m struggling at the moment though, to accept the very real limits on my capacity, my chances, my opportunities – my ability to live my life as I would fully, authentically choose. I guess that’s part of being a PDAer, we don’t take well to having that taken from us. For me, my chronic pain and my bipolar (and my undiagnosed traumatic stress) really do take that autonomy from me.
Hopefully over time I can go from strength to strength. Hopefully I can build a robust, and real, support network. Hopefully clopixol is as good a drug for me as I think it could be. Hopefully I can quit being a revolving door patient now we’re five years on from 2020.
It’s all just “hopes” though. Progress is slow, and so uncertain. It’s so hard not to get lost in the “if only” and the anger. The grief. The rage at mental health teams that seriously let me down in my 20s. I first communicated my complex trauma at 22, at 34 I still do not actually have any trauma diagnosis – I find this frankly ridiculous. The closest I ever came was “it’s mild trauma, therefore BPD”… which just, uh, no. I’m angry that I had to spend thousands of pounds of savings to get a PDA modifier that was the only reason they ever changed their tunes, and started actually *listening* to me.
What do you even do with that amount of anger? It’s only worthwhile if it’s used to channel towards something. I’ll always value fellow psychiatric survivors/patients/service users, of any stripe.
On that note, I’mma quit rambling, and share one small thing I’m doing to try and help make a difference:
Raising money for mind is a small way I can channel myself, my experiences and my emotions right now – please, if you can, help me take a stand for those of us in society living with mental distress.
I’m dating myself tonight, lol.
I’m re-creating old faves from a shitty past relationship: rum, cola, churros, nasi goreng. I’m sat in a local cafe-bar.
I’m in love with study. With the individual members of my inner world (plurality is an odd phenomenon, and no I will never be naming any of those parts of self openly). My family, my future pets, my future adopted kiddos – I have so much love to give those little ones, honestly.
I’m full of love for Cardiff, the first time I ever felt “at home”, but sensible enough to remain where I am right now – because having a place to live is a reason to love life.
I’m not in love with every aspect of everything, and never will be. But reasons to live are reason enough!
It’s interesting being aromantic on Valentine’s day. It’s a “holiday” I never saw the point of: socially prescribed romance day ughhhhh. I’ve never celebrated it with a partner, never ever wanted to. It’s actually quite nice sitting here typing away on a “break the norms” valentines self-date.
Here’s to queer platonic relationships, and one dedicated nesting partner – all to be found yet. Here’s to kitties, and dogs, and homes, and work, and PDA and NAUGHTINESS! Here’s to the disobedience that PDAers live and breathe – I exhort you: disobey (the rules, the guidance, the social norms!)
I’m bored, and I need more ways to spread the word: https://substack.com/@el12485713?utm_source=edit-profile-page
If you fancy helping support me, the PDAer in your life, your kid? Give me a follow – subscribe by email to my personal email blast.
NOTE: THIS POST WAS MADE DURING A BIPOLAR EPISODE, AND REFLECTS THAT STATE
On leave atm, so only temporary, but all should go well.
I’ll start posting in earnest again afterwards, but – I’ll outline my plans for where I want to take this little PDA.fae corner of the internet:
Just gonna leave this link here in case anyone else needs a reminder that Christmas was “just a Wednesday.”
I wrote on christmas eve of the importance of an autonomous christmas.
my family completely denied me that.
i need a pause.
Been really struggling with trauma the past few days.
Lots of calls to 111 and a emotional support line they can refer you to. Lots of using “same but different” which can be found on DIS SOS, lots of reality checking, support from my neighbours and mum.
Lots of friends pulling serious, dangerous bullshit. Won’t go into details, but oh god it’s been a lot. It’s made coping much harder for me.
PDA fae 