Uncertainty

The Age of Uncertainty

The Age of Uncertainty (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Lately I’ve doubted myself a lot. Quite a lot. I’ve doubted my ability to be a decent wife and a competent mother. I’ve wondered if my husband and son would be better off if I left. All I seem to bring to our lives is chaos, anger and arguments. My emotions then plummet into turmoil and depression, self doubt, questioning any value I offer to anyone by my presence. I feel as if I make every day, every situation worse. I no longer know what to say or do that will have a positive effect for myself or those I care about, so I’m afraid of each interaction – no matter how small it may be.

Shambhala Card

#5

To overcome uncertainty is utterly good.

Commentary:Uncertainty here refers to doubting yourself or the existence of basic goodness. When you don’t punish or condemn yourself, when you relax and appreciate your body  and mind, you begin to contact basic goodness in yourself. So it is extremely important  to be willing to open yourself to  yourself.

As human beings, we have a working basis within us that allows us to uplift our state of existence and cheer up fully. Because we have a mind and body, we can comprehend this world. Existence is wonderful and precious. We don’ know how long we will live. While we have our life. why not make use of it? Before we even make use of it, why don’t we appreciate it?

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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!

 

Waiting by the Phone for the Journey to Begin

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I’m suppose to get in an intensive outpatient program. It’s suppose to  carry me through the next couple of months until my family and I move. I’ve called the facility but all the intake lines are busy. So now I’m waiting by the phone. Always waiting. I’m gone next week so I need to know if I should go do the intake assessment tomorrow or wait until I get back. Big question of the day. But it can’t be answered until they call back. So, I sit here and wait by the phone. Each moment making me more anxious. It’s a scary enough action for me to take, without this anticipation of a call and having to explain it all again. Breathe! Breathe. Writing helps. It keeps my hands busy, if not my mind. And if I’m typing, I can’t be cutting or burning. Either of those would bring relief to this anxiety. I’m afraid of opening myself to others. My self-deprecation tells me my issues aren’t as bad as anyone else, so I shouldn’t take up their time. Opening myself to others, being vulnerable, is a trigger for me. It’s kind of a need to show them how much I hurt inside. I never feel that people believe me. Just get up, brush yourself off and get on with life. Wish it were that easy.

Now it’s 5 hours later and the call never came. Not much help to my anxiety about doing this. When I talked to the operator she said that all the lines were busy at intake. Maybe it was a technical problem and not someone neglecting to get back to me. Let’s hope. Anxious enough spending a few hours with my elderly parents. My dad gets aggravated and his voice raises.  It makes me cringe inside and want to get away.  It’s a tone I’ve always reacted to. I had to leave the apartment for a few minutes, until he was done, so I guess I actually took care of myself! I didn’t stay and make myself endure it. Now, tomorrow morning I need to call the program facility again and see what’s up. UGH!!

First Post

Hi, I’ve just begun my recovery from decades of BPD that was never addressed. I’ve coped, at my family’s expense. That is no longer acceptable to me. We all deserve to be happy and to find joy in life. My hope is that it isn’t too late for me or those close to me. I’m desperately afraid of what demons I will be challenged with facing, be they experiences, issues or emotions. Right now, I’m feeling very lonely and apprehensive about stepping into this journey. But step forward I must because going backward isn’t an option and staying put is debilitating. So, here goes!

Lonely Wolf

Lonely Wolf (Photo credit: Ghetu Daniel)