Obsessing and Depressing

I don't know if any of you deal with obsessions but lately I seem to be obsessing on a much larger scale than normal. I haven't posted in a few days, but I haven't been gone,as some of you know I have still been posting comments. I am here now trying to "break" my obsession before fiance and roommate get home. The last few days have been filled with it. I have been online all day and gotten sucked into the internet. I keep telling myself I am going to stop, do some art, take a nap, but as soon as I know it it's been 12 hours and I can't come back. I have been obsessed with a couple people who make vlogs, particularily one person, whom I don't even know, to the point where I sit and watch their video's, sometimes up to 100 in a row, sometimes the same ones over and over. They aren't even about anything relative to me, I gain nothing constructive from it, learn nothing from it. Today my obsession was with my mental illness, my borderline personality disorder, as it started. Which I think is ok to research. The best way to combat an mental illness is to first research and study yourself in it. But then I begin to see correlations with other things and it turns into a whole hypochondriac type thing. I was pretty sure at one point today that I am Schizophrenic. Some days its' art. I start to work on my art and physically cannot stop, even if I want to I can't get my mind off it and walk away. Some days I obsess about sitting on the couch, in my spot, to the point where I almost can't physically move if I tried, having to go to the bathroom so bad it hurt before I eventually removed myself. Yesterday a guy from the gas company showed up at the door, I saw him through the window while I was sitting at the computer desk and the dogs started barking. He stood there forever as I tried to hide in the corner and I was worried he was trying to get me or hurt me and I hid underneath the computer desk like a frightened child until he left, and even then for awhile after. I am so afraid of other people I am confined to my house but dying of being alone. I don't know what to do anymore. It's so hard living inside this head I can't even understand. The weirdest thing is if nobody had ever told me this behaviour was bad I may not even concentrate on it. I don't even know if I make sense anymore. All I know is this is the first time I have been able to "unlock" myself of my own free will, knowing that I need to stop and applying the measures to do so. I feel like I have symptoms that don't even exist to any disease and I talk about it and everyone says "oh that's normal" but to me those are the things that are "psycho". It just doesn't make sense. I don't know what I'm going to do with myself. I got the feeling that Dr. R. doesn't really want to help me, none of them do, thats why I wasn't on the waiting list for a therapist even though I went through everything proper and have been waiting 7 months. I was totally honest with my doctor and she totally brushed me off as a drunk/addict, which btw I have never been accused of before, even by my last psychiatrist who knew about my drinking and smoking weed but she felt it was under control and not an issue. The new doctor thinks I should go to AADAC. I admit my drinking has become more so, and not for the right reasons but fuck I am telling you my symptoms and whats happening and it's getting blamed on my actions? Believe me I have been sober MANY a day and still had to deal with my mind melt overload. Nobody wants to help me. I am going to die out here. 7 months with nobody to even talk to or review meds and I am waiting again, how long this time? I think they want me to give up so they can deal with other people who are easier. I told my doctor I am hearing voices, not really but kind of. It's like there is a radio in my head and it's on a boring talk radio station, but ti's muffled. I can hear that people are talking but not what they're saying. It mostly happens at night and sometimes it's so annoying I become distracted. First she blamed this on drug and alcohol use then she said it's because of my Seroquel, that I am overdosing on it, well wtf? What is it? How can someone help me if they don't even listen to me! And there is nowhere else to go, there is nobody else here to talk to. I'm so afraid that one day I will give up every last shred of hope I am clinging onto and realize I can't be cured and nobody can help me and have nothing left to live for. I hate myself so much sometimes I just want to kick my own ass and beat some sense into me. I no longer have any confidence or self esteem. I don't deserve treatment I guess.

What's the Point of My Blog?

What is the point of my blog? The answer is, well I'm not quite sure anymore. It seems like I only blog when I am in crisis, or when I am feeling OK I only blog out of guilt that I haven't written. Or the fact that I don't want to be too depressing to anyone who actually reads this rubbish. I am not a talented writer so I am sure most of my posts are very uninteresting to most. The posts I write when I am miserable, anxiety ridden or even suicidal are the only posts that actually have any true meaning. I don't even feel like a real person when I'm not in crisis. I have become so familiar with pain and mental illness it almost seems to define me. Any other time I write I feel like a total fake. Don't get me wrong, I don't lie about anything on here, there is no need to. I just don't really know who I am when I'm not depressed. But to look back on only a deep black hole of my life and see nothing bright and shiny can actually cause me to have a panic attack, because as much as I feel I am defined by depression, mental illness, BPD- I don't want to be.
I have reasoned that I should still write as maybe one day I will be able to see some sort of pattern or improvement in myself but right now it's just nauseating. I have also reasoned that I should write for personal therapy, as I am still waiting to meet my new psychiatrist since I moved up to rural butt fuck nowhere (6 months down and one month to go) so it helps me get my feelings out in a way. Ir does seem unreasonable to me that I have had to wait this long. Before I moved here I was  hospitalize din the psych ward, went to Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, was registered into Dialectical Behaviour Therapy but quit, was having one to two visits with my psychiatrist a week and not working, still in a very tender state. It feels to me like everyone just wanted to get rid of me, pass me off, because there is no way someone of my mental health should have been left unattended for seven months. I have had several instances of extreme use of drugs and alcohol, self-harm and suicidal ideations. I have to tranquilize myself with medications to keep going. On top of that I am trying to hold up a job, a relationship, and my sanity.
So what is the point of this blog? Nothing. I guess it eats up some of my time and distracts me momentarily, is that considered a coping mechanism? However sometimes reading my blog can trigger me too. I try not to read it too much, I try to wait until down the road when maybe I can start recognizing some things from what I write, but sometimes it's just easier to wallow in self misery.
In fact the best thing about this blog is my reading list, I love reading everyone elses blogs, feeling like I can relate to someone, but I have trouble humanizing other people too. I know there are a few of you who do read this, and I thank you (namely Sairs- thanks for your comments and support, you are lovely!) because I guess that is partially why I keep going.
I am wondering if I should share this blog with my psychiatrist? I know some of you have done so, I wonder if it is beneficial for therapy or just something my psychiatrist will use against me in some way. (Maybe that's paranoia). Anyways, I am going to post a poll and if anyone reads this could you please give me some insight on this matter either by poll or comments, then I shall decide the fate of Borderline Ballistic.

Back to Life, Back to Reality.

I went back to work last week for the first time in about 3 weeks. I had been beginning to learn how to occupy myself with hobbies, I was doing some jewelry making and working on a cross stitch for a gift. I've noticed it helped keep me distracted, however in the wait to go back to work I have had to keep myself quite tranquilized with drugs and medications at the same time as using my distractions, but I now only have 3 weeks left until my first appointment with my new psychiatrist.
My specialist sent me a letter and I have my balance test and my hearing test booked in the city. These are the tests which will decide if I qualify for a bone implanted hearing aid. They don't think it will be a problem since I have next to no hearing in my left ear, accompanied by vertigo and balance problems. A regular hearing aid wouldn't allow me to hear any better so it's either this or nothing. I'm sure the process will take awhile yet but I am fairly confident about the outcome.
A. took me to the city yesterday to go shopping and I ended up getting my nose pierced again. It's something I have been talking about for at least six months but I needed to be in the city. It looks good, was exactly what I wanted and should heal up perfectly by the time I go back to work on Wednesday. I am starting to train at a different hospital starting then and none of those people have met me before. So I am sure they will just assume I always had it. Besides I have seen other people working in health services with nose piercings before and usually the union doesn't like to put up much of a stink about things. I had had my nose pierced when I was thirteen with a gun, what a bad idea. I was lucky that I never had problems with it and I wore it for several years, then it just fell out one day when I was camping and grew over. I never really liked the placement of it, it was much too low on my nostril so I got my new one above it with a ring and it covers the hole of my old one. One day if I wanted I could get my original piercing done again and have a double piercing on one nostril which might look cool but probably not while I work for health services. I don't want to push the envelope too much.
I am still however extremely nervous to go back to work now. New people, new job. I hope they like me and I like them. Whenever I meet new people I am always worried that I wear this stamp of Borderline Personality Disorder. Like I wear it on my skin and everyone knows. Maybe that's just paranoia. A. is going to take me to the hospital before I work so we can find out where I have to go and take a look around. That should help me feel a little more prepared and confident I suppose.
In the meantime I am going to enjoy the fact that I can send all day with my two dogs and my two kitties. I love them so much, they are a comfort to me. I miss them alot when I go to work so at least I will have the next couple of days to spend with my babies. That's happy.