What baggage am I leaving here and what baggage am I taking with me? Physical and psychological?
Today is my last day in Wisconsin before moving 2000 miles and being on my own for the first time in my life. It may be a shortish time, or a long time, depending on how long it takes for our house here to sell so that my husband can join me. Most people learn to do the things I’ll be doing when they are in their early 20s. But I’ve never been alone. Partly because I’m a twin, and my BPD kept me attached to her as we grew up in terms of friends and identity. As she and I grew older, I was dating my later to become husband. All of my attachments for friends, identity and decisions then became focused around him. I always deferred to him. Political views, music, purchases, big things like that. On top of abandonment issues. So now, I have to be the one to step away (because I truly get too muddled when it comes to selling our house, and I want to get started on the new home environment), try to put on my big girl panties (YIKES!!! on so many levels) and jump out of the plane 2000 miles away where we don’t know anyone, I don’t have a job, etc.
Yesterday I said good-bye to my parents. I’ve tried to spend a lot of time with them over the past couple of weeks. I think that helped. My mom still can’t say the words “I love you” out loud, but I know she does. Very much. We spent the last few days teaching her how to use skype video calling. She’ll be a master of it!
I’m already feeling anxious this morning. Everything I want to take isn’t fitting into my suitcases and that means that there will be an argument with my 16 year old as I tell him he has to use a different case to accommodate some of my things, even though it will just be a checked bag. But maybe it will be a moment that occasionally happens and he will say OK. It can happen. That would be nice.
Over the last few days I have had a few instances when I wanted to cut in reaction to emotions. Feeling invalidated. I know these are usually times when I am experiencing emotions overly strongly, but the thoughts of self harm are like lightning flashes – I WANT TO SLASH ACROSS MY STOMACH! – But I’m not acting on them, just hearing the words in my head as an emotional reaction. At my last meeting with my psychiatrist, I told him that I consciously packed my exacto knives to be moved with the majority of the house, not with the things I am taking now. I know it’s somewhat irrelevant because I can always go and buy another, but it was the stopping and thinking about it. The decision not to take them with me. If I decided to hurt myself, there’s ALWAYS something available. I can be very creative. But I do want to be healthy. I do want to be happy.