Been a LONG time since my last post …

It seems like forever since I’ve written. I haven’t really been gone, just doing more reading and feeling like I don’t have much to share – but that isn’t really the case! After a lot of interviewing, I was offered two different teaching positions. I accepted one and will be starting on August 11th. I’m excited and scared. I’ve not taught for two years and am now in a different state.

The school I’ll be at seems wonderful and my classroom is twice the size of my last one, and FILLED with supplies and teaching materials. Everyone I’ve talked to, at the school, has been wonderfully supportive and welcoming. This seems a wonderful opportunity to have a new start and to feel good about where I’m working and what I’m doing. I know there will be days of anxiousness when I’m unsure of myself. Being aware of that, I need to take a moment and reflect on my skills that have been proven in the past … I am a very good teacher! Especially with students who need special instruction.


 

Just some pictures I've taken over the years ...

Just some pictures I’ve taken over the years …

The sunset, seen through my window on the jet. Above the clouds. Is this where Heaven is, if there is a heaven?

The sunset, seen through my window on the jet. Above the clouds. Is this where Heaven is, if there is a heaven?

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Cement walls closing in. I feel like I will drown.

Cement walls closing in. I feel like I will drown.

 

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Yes, that’s me – fighting off attackers during my black belt test.

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My son in the throes of childhood imagination!

I’m in the best place that I’ve been in for a long time (although some struggles persist.) There are several reasons for that, but I won’t go into them now. I’m just grateful for each day. I’m able to appreciate all that is happening around me and am working on changing some of my ingrained ways of thinking and perception. Many thanks to followers and readers of my posts who have provided support and insight to my struggles. You are all very appreciated. My posts will probably become more infrequent as my time is filled with work. But, that doesn’t mean I won’t be reading the posts of others.

I know this blog is always here for me to vent and question and reflect on the moments of my life. It has helped immensely. There will always be more to come along and share with you all.

Scars and the tales they tell or hide …

My mom (who is almost 88 years old) just flew home after visiting me for a week. It was one of the quickest good-byes I’ve ever had at an airport. I think we were both afraid … afraid of the tears, afraid in case this is the last time we ever see each other. At her age, you never know. For someone who struggles with depression and BPD (me), you never know. These days in general, you never know. And we now live 2,000 miles apart.

my “Stoic Swede” mom and me in Tahoe

My mom knows that depression has plagued me most of my life, but she doesn’t know about the BPD and I don’t plan on telling her. She’s seen many of my scars. Some she asks about, most she doesn’t. Although she is quite educated and was a nurse and educator, she gets quite anxious at any indication that I might be struggling to cope psychologically with anything or be seeing a psychiatrist or psychologist. It worries her that there’s something wrong with me … Partly because she will then blame herself. So, I keep it to myself. I wore long pants and sleeves while she was here. I was continually conscious of myself and what she could see.

It was a good visit, setting her mind at ease that our move out here was right for me. The mountains help me to feel settled, grounded in a way the midwest did not. The movement of the American River soothes me whenever I am able to be near it and watch the sun reflect off its surface as the water rushes around and over rocks.

American River Canyon

American River Canyon (Photo credit: aresauburn™)

This is only a few miles from my house! The Forest Hill Bridge in the back is the 3rd highest in the US

I continue to have moments when my anxiety and fear of loss and abandonment overtake me. I had some even while she was here and again as I said good-bye. Will those ever go away? I’m beginning to doubt it. That is my cross to bear or fountain of youth to seek. Am I Don Quixote fighting windmills in my mind?

Don Quixote and Sancho Panza

Don Quixote and Sancho Panza (Photo credit: M Kuhn)

In my last post, I was very discouraged about how few people were reading my blog. I contemplated the suicide of my blog and the word suicide was in the title. Suddenly, there were many more hits and several comments from readers saying they were reading, even if they weren’t commenting. Thanks for the comments that were made to that posts. They helped. I guess I need to keep fighting my windmills and some of them might turn out to be real and I can win the fight! Others will taunt me as they will. More scars may come from the fights, but I will fight to the end – never giving up hope for happiness in life. Not just fleeting moments, but deep seated, know it in my bones and it shows in my face real happiness.

Posting Suicide

Except for John the Aussie (as a regular) and an occasional other, no one seems to read my blogs any more. It doesn’t matter if I’ve been a regular reader of theirs- and commentar also, I’ve tried to write in different modes that might be more interesting. I’ve tried increasing the tags for my blogs, but still it seems that no one is really all that interested. Thank you, John, for continuing to check in on me. Some days I feel on top of the world and as normal as can be. But when I look at what isn’t happening, I again feel like the lost child that stays hidden in the background. I’m not complaining – it’s just an observation. I guess it’s an ok place to be for me. A good place to observe others, even if no one notices you. A lot can be learned from observing others. I see how lucky I am in the true picture of life. I may have my moments or even days of emotional dis-regulation, self harm, depression anxiety etc, but I know I am loved (even in the midst of arguing) and lovable. I know my depression will come and go and I will have days where I feel joy and thoroughly like almost every aspect of my life. So no one wants to read my blog. There’s not a Da#n thing I can do about that. I will write or not write, as the mood suites me. Is that posting or blogging suicide? Only time will tell.

Cheers all!

I just realized …

I just realized I haven’t written in about a week. I have been busy reading other blogs, playing with my puppy (3 months old), making new friends here through swimming class. TODAY, my outlook is good. I’ve had periods of sadness, anger, anxiety … the gamut that usually torment me … but not for sustained periods. The blogs of others, especially  Jaen Wirefly’s (You Know You’re Borderline When …) posts on mindfulness and Gypsy’s (Through my eyes: Adventures in Boreline Land) reminder to think positively. Others have shared progress going on in their lives (Mandi) and just shared some humorous anecdotes about their family and children (John the Aussie). There are others and you’ve all kept me moving forward!

My husband now is employed, almost full time, although still no benefits, so that takes some of the worry off. He is not pressuring me to go back to work yet. I want to, but don’t feel the time is right just now. Making friends and building that support network, here in a new environment, is what I need to do first. The people in our community are very friendly and welcoming. I’m putting forth the effort to make friends, which I never really did before. I’m struggling with parenting a 16 year old boy – who is a great kid, but is still a 16 year old boy with all that that entails. Thank God I’m not a single parent!

Having more than a day or two in a row without the yuk is kind of scary, but good. I’ve been having days with short periods of distress that I’ve been able to stay with and not succumb to. I appreciate the good days and know the bad days won’t last forever. But I know this “thing” won’t ever leave me for good also, and that’s somewhat distressing – but is what it is and not an excuse to check out. I do have a son to set an example for. 

Dear Almighty – Please help me to like transitions, especially this one called life!

After weeks of deep depression (those who read my blog know how I was struggling), I was reunited with my husband and a year of intense stress seemed to fall away. After reading the article I re-posted in my last post, and the reply to my comment I received, I was thinking that maybe most of the year had been an intense and long relapse. But it wasn’t because it had been building up for years. It was more of a culmination. Like a zit exploding. Slowly.

One thing I’ve know about myself my whole life is that I hate transitions. I guess that’s part of being impulsive. I don’t like the waiting, the journey, the process. Once I’ve decided, I want IT, I want it done, I want to be there, and so on. Transitions are difficult. No, not just difficult. They are downright hard at times. They offer up opportunities for change. If someone has said they will love you forever …. and they one day they say they don’t love you anymore – well, then, point proved. Transition. Over time (transition) they changed their mind. The same goes with saying they will be with you forever … You begin to see how people with such as myself, might have issues with transitions and the nuances of problems that can arise due to them.

Time is comprised of transitions. (That might even be something of it’s definition in a building block way.) But I get to bogged down in the enormity of it all if I try to dissect time and put it all back together, and that’s not the point of this particular post topic. If I want to stop the transition of time, I sit in my back yard garden where birds fly about, wind chime gently chime in the breeze the fountain gurgles, all seeming to bring time to a stand still in tranquility.

Zip back to my post title and the topic at hand … you all thought I was drifting off, I’ll bet! Anyways, long depression, anxiety, struggling with self harm, yadda yadda yadda … started to lift and feeling much better the last few weeks after reuniting with my husband and the sale of out old house 2,000 miles away and all together in our new house. New house, new state, new life? Then anxiety and depression, and even thinking (but not acting) about self harming started creeping back in very quickly over the last few days. Self doubt, fear of decisions and upcoming TRANSITIONS! Yesterday, I lay in bed thinking about it all and wondering about it all and how these behaviors and thoughts have been a prominent thread in the weaving of my life – probably more like the warp or weft of the weave that is the fabric of my life. Everything is built upon it. So, I thought back to how transitions have been the one thing I have always been aware of struggling with. Funny, that with all my behaviors I’ve never really been aware of what was consistent with them. My husband could have probably told you what would set me off, but I couldn’t. Forrest for the trees (sorry, I digress again!) All of a sudden it hit me that life was nothing but one long transition from birth to death. It’s a transition there is no way for me to impulsively avoid. Things WILL happen along the way. Some things I will influence, others, I will not. Much like when I decide to get up from my table here in my garden and return to my house. I can choose the time and the path, but there are rock and leaves in my path that I will step on that may cause me to slip. I didn’t put them there. I can scour the ground watching for them, but I will then not see the beauty of my garden and may even miss and walk into a low hanging branch. So I need to find balance enough to enjoy the transition back into my house.

Going back to work is a transition that is creating a lot of anxiety. I’ve always worked, though, being very high functioning and using work almost as a coping mechanism. Perhaps my anxiety means that I’m not quite ready to go back. I still need this recuperative time to find some internal peace, self soothing and care giving. The people closest to me have not been physical nurturers (huggers) and for some reason I’ve always craved physical touch. Maybe not my whole life. I don’t know. My first intimate relationship was very physical, but then he turned and was abusive. So something must be twisted up in there, confused in my mind. He fulfilled a need that no one else has, but then, abused me and there is a lot of shame and punishment connected with that. Mental moment. Bad transitional period into adulthood. So I punished myself.I’m trying to not punish myself now, but to let myself know when the time is right. It’s hard. waiting is a difficult transition.

Most transitions have been hard for me to handle. I’ve regretted the decisions I’ve made and felt ashamed of them, then tried to hide my poor judgement from others. I’ve tried to overcompensate by doing more than I was asked to so people wouldn’t notice how incompetent I was (shell game with my skills.) Or, I just plain wouldn’t make a decision so someone else would have to, and then I would suffer through the transition.

So here I am, realizing that life is one long transition comprised of a multitude of transitions. There’s no getting around them, under them, over them. I have to go THROUGH them. Even though I hate them. So please Almighty, help me to learn to like transitions (even a little) because live is a long one!