New and newer

So … new insurance means finding a new person to handle meds. Met with that person yesterday. Oh, and yesterday kind of s#cked. Made several professional mistakes that I could be called to task on and/or written up for. Trying to stay on top of too many things at once and that means making mistakes. On to the new prescriber, a psychiatric nurse practitioner. After spending over an hour with her, she’s decided to double the amount of Zoloft (generic version) from 50 to 100 mg. I knew the 50 mg was low, but it was mainly to stop the crying. And she’s also increasing my Lamictal from 200 to 300 mg. She says that’s the most that should be taken before its effectiveness decreased. She wanted me to take the rest of the week off of work but I refused to. Conferences and assessments to be done. Next week is a vacation week, so that should help. As always happens, she wanted me to assure her that if I felt like hurting myself, I would call 911. I said I wouldn’t do that. Would I call her? I said, “honestly, no.” Heer response was the expected, “if you can’t do that, then I need to hospitalize you.” My response, “I have no desire to kill myself, but I can’t say I won’t hurt myself.” I’d told her that my self harming had gone from the more obvious cutting and burning to the non-visible purging. Even though it is not a good thing. This seemed more satisfactory to her and she let me go at that. I’ve never wanted to kill myself. There are too many things in life I want to see .. like grandchildren someday, my family, the world, what happens in life! Sometimes I just don’t want to hurt so much. It’s not even all the time, just when things happen. I just want to feel ok with myself and not so volatile or sensitive to everything. The roller coaster has NEVER been a ride I enjoyed ( real or metaphorically speaking.) And it’s not too thrilling for others on the ride with me either, ie my husband and family.

We’ll see how it goes. Today, I’m feeling better – but that’s also how it seems to go. I really would like to be ok with myself some day. From what I hear, I’m a pretty decent person.

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Mindfulness

I haven’t written for awhile now. I’m stuck. Trying counselling, but don’t know if it’s helping. I cry a lot – at the mention of my father, future losses, failures I think I’ve had with my son and husband. I cry because I can’t go back in time to change what I said or did. I cry because I’m afraid of what I’ve lost or might lose.  It’s oppressive at times.

The counselor tells me to keep practicing mindfulness, and that some of the things I share with her indicate that I am being mindful at times. She reminds me that I can’t change the past or predict the future. Bemoaning and anxiety. I keep trying. It is SO hard though. Emotions run amuck. Sensations of the walls of the past and future close in around me, leaving little room for mindfulness. The pressure of the past and future engulf me, causing me to panic and forget where I’m at. I suppose that as I practice being mindful, I should get stronger and be able to push the walls back into place. At least that’s what I think my counselor would say if I shared my analogy with her. Is the goal then to push them back until the room they shape (my life) is as large as possible?

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

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

 

 

 

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  – 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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Agitated, churning, welling anger and frustration

I can feel it welling up inside. Frustrated about my job. Teacher’s aid, I take a group of upper elementary students (7) who are too disruptive to be in class during math, and try to do math with them in another room – where they are all disruptive. Often, several of them can’t handle that either and need to go to the office. Now being told that I can’t send them there but have to send them to the kindergarten room instead. Yesterday, one student told me about being punched in the eye before school. The other student bragged about it at lunch. I talked to the classroom teacher and learned that the director had asked the student to think about what punishment they should receive.  Even though the student handbook says this kind of physical conduct  means suspension from school.

What message does this send to other students? NO CONSISTENCY! No wonder there is no improvement in the behavior problems.

Two classrooms are working on a play they are putting on. There are many that can’t participate because of their behavior being so disruptive. Yet these same students are expected to sit quietly and watch while the other students rehearse. Anyone see problems occurring in this scenario? You bet!

There’s lots more, but this is enough. Now that I’ve spewed this out in writing, I’m hoping to start my work day a little less stressed.

Sorry to just have a venting post, but I needed to get it off my chest.

FOLLOW UP …

A better day at work today, but I find myself yelling at students. That’s not the way to handle things and I know it. But it shows how frustrated I’m feeling.

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Feeling it coming on …

My week has been going well, until I opened the mail this afternoon. There was a letter from the state health insurance that my son has – saying he doesn’t qualify for the program. WTF!!! He qualifies as a minor, while we don’t have health insurance. I made phone calls and left messages and now have to wait until a county worker has time to call me back and explain what’s going on. I’m sure it’ll all be righted by the time we’re done. 

As I’m going through this process, I can feel things changing inside me. Frustration and aggravation are mounting, waiting for an incident to tip the scales into an episode. It scares me to feel this. I don’t usually recognize when “the change” is happening, but today I do.  I’m hoping that recognizing it will help me quell the eruption. I don’t want Kilimanjaro to explode.

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As the weekend ends – feeling fragile

I think I’ve made it through my weekend pretty well. Very little disagreeing with my son. We both worked hard on it. But I am feeling fragile right now. I went to a concert today. Two concert pianists. As the first one started to play, I almost lost it and had a VERY hard time holding back the tears. My dad (who passed away this past May) played the piano. We had a grand piano in our living room the while I was growing up and as long as my parents had their house. It looked a lot like the one at the concert. The sound of the solitary piano filled me with grieving for my dad. I composed myself. The second pianist started playing and I was back in my grief again. Every time I thought of my dad, through the whole concert, I was choking back sobs. Afterwards, I tried to mention it to the friend I was with, because she is aware of how I can be emotionally, but couldn’t because the tears and grief immediately took over. It’s kept me on the edge all evening. Not of self injuring, just emotional frailty. I want to be held and able to cry. But that won’t happen. I talked to my brother on the phone for 45 minutes. How are you doing, he asked. I tried to say something about it, but felt myself slipping. Tears are streaming down my face as I type this now. I’ve dreamt of my dad a lot lately. And the experience of being with him as he died. Loss. Inside, I feel like a little girl whose dad is no longer there for her. Abandonment? I’m 51 years old now. You’d think I’m adult enough not to be this bothered by it, yet I am. I’ve asked my dad to come to me as a ghost if he can. I just don’t want him to be gone. He had a TON of his own issues to deal with, but I always knew he loved me.  

I miss you, Dad. I love you. 

Worry and Panic about my dog

Chi

Chi

 

My dog has been lethargic the last several days. She ran and played hard on Friday. Saturday found her quiet and sleeping. A little stiff, I thought. Same same on Sunday. I began wondering if she’d picked up a bug. That  would take a few days to work through, so I tried to be patient on Monday. By Monday night, I noticed that her stool was very soft, though not diarrhea. She continues to eat, but only wants to get up when she needs to go outside. I was gone for several hours yesterday (Tuesday) and didn’t get home until early evening. Still very lethargic. My husband noticed that some bumps were showing on her snout. Bumps like the ones that erupted on  her snout last spring – and she was on two antibiotics for weeks. Ears down, tail down, trouble getting up from her bed. I felt desolate with worry about what was going on. She’s only a year old.

I was up with her for a couple of hours during the night. She did walk outside (it may have helped hearing deer munching on the twigs and leaves of branches we had trimmed, right next to the.) This morning, she  is walking a little better, but still doesn’t want to get up.  Thankfully, I’m able to get her into the vet’s office in a few hours. So, stool sample in hand (in a baggie), I hope to get some answers and help for her soon. She’s my baby girl, after all, and has been there for me through a lot of depression last fall. She’s my Chi.