Long Week and Feeling the Stress

The first trimester of school is almost over. I can’t believe we’re a third of the way through the school year already! I still don’t feel like I’m on firm ground, there’s so much to do and to get used to. On top of lots of assessments of students, meetings, teaching … I’m exhausted and typically spend ten hours a day at school. And, I’m not┬ásleeping very well, unless I take three different things to help me get to sleep.

This week has been especially stressful. There’s been a lot of anxiety. My first meeting of the week went well on Monday. I had another on Wednesday that wasn’t so good. I was nervous and the computer program/site that we process our paperwork on wasn’t working correctly and really messed up my report. Can’t blame it … that’s just what happens sometimes. But, because I’m new there and feeling unsure about teaching after 2.5 years away from it, the way that meeting went felt horrible. One of the other specialists saw me later in the day and could tell how much I’m struggling. She was very supportive and tried to help me feel more secure in what I do. I am very lucky to work with people like her!

Yesterday was going pretty well, until a student in my room had an absentee seizure. It wasn’t stopping, nurse was there, 911 called … I think he’s ok though. ­čÖé

Today was crazy, crazy! We had a fire drill and evacuation drill first thing. Got back to school and was able to work with two classes before lunch. Just as lunch was ending. we found out there was a gunman incident happening in town and the whole school district went into lockdown mode. For three hours! Everything at school was ok. Unfortunately, two police officers were killed and another injured.

On top of all this going on, I’m struggling with finding a new doctor to prescribe my medications. I think I need to see a general practitioner first. I only have about a month of meds left, so it’s a time issue. I’m on new insurance, so everything has to switch. I’ve been working on it, but seem to call after business hours. That’s on me – to find the time and remember to call when someone is available to take my call.

Please understand, I’m not complaining and I hope it doesn’t come across as if I am. It’s just been a difficult transition and I am struggling with it. Unfortunately, the stress has triggered my bulimia and I’m using that to cope more often. Not a good plan! I feel the decades of it in my chest whenever I do purge. I started writing this post because I’m feeling very full from the pot pie I had for supper. I really wanted to purge, but didn’t. I hate that full feeling. At least it’s good that my meds have my BPD well in check!

Thanks for reading through my ramblings.

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Afraid

I’m very afraid of what this new approach to my therapy will bring. But I asked for it. I feel like I’m in Limbo. Something am waits, but what. I want to force it out of hiding, yet fear it will be my undoing to do so. The fear makes me want to do things to myself to avoid facing it … Binge, purge, cut, burn, drink, pills … My skin is crawling. I don’t really want to hurt myself, just trying to avoid the unknown fear. Binging and purging isn’t working. I’ve no strong desire to cut and burn (feelings aren’t at that intensity right now) and having a drink just makes me sadly aware of the fear and avoidance.
I want to talk but am afraid of what I might say or ask. The truth might be too hard, too uncomfortable – demanding what of me?

“I don’t think you really have BPD,” She said. Then what? Am I just fucked up? I know my life is a dream compared to others. But I cannot deny the fear and trepidation that fill me. I put on a laughing facade around my friends. They say they are always there to help, but how can they? This all seems so childish of me. Get over it! Shut up the words that resound in your head. Silence can be so deafening.

Drinking makes me depressed, just like they say it will. Not a good thing to do. Ok, off to bed. Night all.

Closing In

No, I’m not burning, cutting or raging … but anxiety is closing me in and I am again binging and purging. But the purging isn’t working out much, so there’s lots of guilt and shame. Closing in on myself.

In counseling, we’ve changed directions a bit, on my request, from some DBT to cognitive behavior therapy. I want to look at my perceptions of myself and my world. I’m again feeling like I’m being told that I’m not what I thought. (Don’t really feel like going into that right now though.) Instead of looking at mindfulness and distress tolerance, I’ve started talking about what’s missing. Words that I don’t even want to utter out loud. I haven’t burned or cut in a long time, but I’m back to doing what I’ve spent the most number of years doing … binging and purging. So secretive, so personal, so difficult to get to succeed any more. My body rebels and I fail. Fail.

I find my body getting very still, to watch around me and see if I’m being noticed, my thoughts heard. I’m getting ready to go on a week and a half driving trip. There are questions I’d like to ask as we have this time alone together. But I cannot, unless I want us both to regret it. So I’m locked in silence and the silence is crushing as it intensifies. Sabotage? Fear, loneliness in the midst of togetherness

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What do you say, how do you feel when …

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Moments of intimacy brought me courage to share honestly. I did, saying that physical pain is easier for me than emotional pain. But I know I need to stay with the emotions and not avoid or hide in physical pain. And I asked, or maybe said I needed/wanted him to help me stay with the emotions. The answer was not what I wanted to hear. He, after all theses years of being around me and my emotions, needs to distance himself when my emotions hit. He’s paid his dues, emotionally, and needs to act in this way in order to take care of himself. How can I blame him? I can’t. I wish I’d had my revelation years ago when we were younger and I hadn’t put him through so much, yet. Maybe then he would have been willing to be with me as I tried to stay with my feelings/ emotions rather than self harming to avoid the emotional pain. I don’t blame him in the least for feeling this way. He has tried for decades already. Physical pain is so much easier. But it, my truth, ┬áhas now been out on the table. I need to fight this battle on my own. Perhaps this is best and will make me stronger than if I count on someone being there to help hold me up. I guess this has to be my battle and mine alone so that I learn to be ok with myself … Would that be self loving? I have to be ok with myself, even if no one else is. Gulp! Wish me luck!

Confused –

The episode has ended. I’ve tried to talk about it. I don’t know what to say – I hate myself like this. I don’t know how to change. Nothing seems to help. Maybe I should be turned over to the state and hospitalized, but I doubt they’d do that because the episodes aren’t continuous. Only every 2-3 weeks. So the rest of the time should be fine, right? Live life knowing that “IT” is coming, you just don’t know when. I can’t live with me. How can I expect anyone else to either? And what have I got to look forward to? Research says symptoms tend to lessen during your 40’s. Mine never did and now I’m in my 50’s. Is this pattern to repeat for the next 20, 30 or ever 40 years? What kind of life is that for me or anyone close to me? I’ve ceased to be of benefit to anyone. Enough said.

Crushing feeling inside

Why do some responses, actions and words feel so crushing inside? Things that are really no big deal FEEL huge and overpowering. One just happened. We are setting up some new furniture on our deck. I had repainted a fountain that was in my garden and put it on the deck for the winter. My husband says, “You’re not leaving that on the deck, are you?” Immediately, my insides curl up like I’ve done something terrible. I haven’t, and it’s not a big deal, but I FEEL like it is. I’m wrong in keeping it there. I’ve done something that he didn’t want me to do. I know and understand that my internal over reaction is a part of my BPD extreme sensitivity, but knowing this doesn’t change how I’m feeling. I want to crawl in a hole and disappear ┬á– all because of a simple statement! This hyper sensitivity is what I hate most about my BPD. Knowledge does not quell it. An it can be a factor in an upheaval of raging behavior that has yet to surface, adding on to each little iota of irritation, fear, anxiety or whatever that builds inside of me. Conflict with my world. I feel it in my chest, throat, head – and throughout my body. My head pulls down on my neck, like a turtle trying to withdraw into its shell. My shoulders hunch as my throat sucks in, trying to shrink my body until I disappear. It can make me seek distraction and lack of distraction brings chaos. I feel it swirling, making me curl up inside, wanting to avoid all interactions. How can something so little as a question become so big that it envelopes me completely?

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Email to a friend

I wrote an email to a blogging friend early this morning. Somehow, it turned into a post – so here it is with personal info about people deleted.

Hi, I haven’t read any posts this past week ( other than into paragraph ) but seems you’re in a bad spot. I wish there was something I could offer up to help. I think about you and your journey most every day- even if I’m not able to read your posts. You and Mxxxx.

Having a bit of anxiety myself now. Filling out paperwork for my son to have insurance, even though my husband and I don’t qualify. Something about a thick packet of paperwork puts me over the edge. Only 4 hours sleep because I didn’t take any kind of sedative. Actually got out my exacto knife and washed it in rubbing alcohol to sterilize it. Put it away. Getting anxious about psych appointment next week ( first in over a year +) to be evaluated (again!) for meds (and condition?) Anxious because the last few weeks have been not too bad. What does that mean for me? Better? Yeah, right … That I’m only that much closer to another episode? Probably. And that thought makes me want to isolate myself and turn everyone away. Sink inside. Depressed. But instead, I’ll put on the happy face and try to pretend the anxiety isn’t there. Until it explodes.

My husband thinks that any of my self harm is just for attention. How can that be if each incident is hidden from others? No, it’s not for attention at all. It takes me away from whatever is hurting. Like an escape hatch. The deeper the wound, the better the escape. Like Alice going down the rabbit hole perhaps. But the a new world of disoriented thinking begins.

I’m not needed by my family anymore. I watch their lives going on – completely independent of anything I can provide.

I realize I’m rambling here, and I’ve written more of a post than an email. Sorry about that. I’ve been awake since 2:30 a.m. And feel it. Yet each time that I’ve tried to go back to sleep, I find myself fully awake as soon as my head hits the pillow.
I hate taking sedatives. It’s easy to want to take more than I need so that I stay asleep.
F#%k!

I might as well copy and paste this as a post, since it’s where I’m at this morning.
Writing this on my phone, just noticed my signature says “Visualize”. I think that’s part of my problem. I visualize too much.

Take care, please! I’ll catch up on your posts this weekend.

Hugs,