D-Day

I’m afraid of what today’s appointments, and the one with my psychologist on Monday, will bring. Tuesday afternoon, I was burning some brush and thinking about how Dave continues to not respond (even to acknowledge receiving and/or reading) my emails about my BPD. He’s just THAT shut down about it I guess. I know discussion is out of the question, but I keep hoping he’ll become more aware or understanding. It goes back to my unrelenting fear of abandonment. All this after 32 years of marriage. You’d think I’d realize he’s not leaving me, but I know some days push him closer to it, so it continues to haunt me. The whole thinking part put me in a funk of not caring about myself, risky behavior with the fire. I didn’t use a stick or tool to move wood around. I used my hands. Carefully, of course. But then I started picking up sticks that were burning embers on the end. That let to me thinking about my burn scars being flatter than my cutting scars. And that lead me to deciding to burn over the cutting scars on the back of my leg. I’ve been on an antibiotic for 5 days for strep throat, but the area of cutting/burning looks like an infection is developing. I told my psychiatrist about it last night when he asked how things had been going. I really should tell him his questions, or at least some of them pertaining to my safety, should be more specific. I’m afraid, today, because I will see my regular doctor. He’s the one who’s treated my cuts and burns. I feel like I’ve really let him down.I know I have strategies to help me, but they evaporate in the moment. I spend a lot of time alone, and that’s when the irregular thinking occurs. The move to CA is coming up in about 6 or 7 weeks, and I’m afraid someone here will get the brilliant (sarcasm) idea to have me treated inpatient. If I really want to seriously hurt myself, I could do it there too, so what’s the point? The move will be stressful too. I need to make friends, even though I’ve never really had close friends. I need medical support and that’s been difficult to set up. So there’s the alone time again.

EVERY bit of stress seems so much larger than it is or should be. I see the Sleep Disorder doctor in 3 hours. They want me to do another sleep study night (Horrible experience!) and it looks like I do have sleep apnea, which means some sort of device to be worn while sleeping. I want the help of the doctors, but on my terms. I guess it’s another symptom … manipulating, pushing, challenging, clinging. The monster inside me looks and waits, ready to pounce.

My body, my cage, my cell.

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