I had (most of) my assessment done by the county a few days ago. Yes, I should have help. It was the 3rd or 4th assessment done in the past year and a half. Why am I surprised that nothing has changed? Some good news, though, is that the county is starting a DBT group in a few weeks. The staff was just trained. But, as usually happens when I’m in the status of getting help, it brings everything to the forefront of my mind. And that makes me depressed. No pretending it isn’t hovering nearby. No denying it’s existence. Facing it is hard to do, but I must. Hopefully, this DBT group will help me to get AND USE tools to make my episodes less traumatic for myself and my family. The thought of talking to people, honestly, generates a lot of fear and wanting to numb myself. But I have to do something. All my meds are gone.
Hi everyone. I realize I haven’t posted in about a month. Nothing wrong, just busy with life and feeling better than I have in a very long time. Have I reached a state of some sort of balance? I sure hope so. I still don’t have a job, but the search continues.
With my BPD seeming under control, I’ve begun examining my weight issues. I haven’t been thin for twenty years … I don’t seem to be able to “diet” so I started looking at emotional underpinnings of my weight. What might happen is I lost weight and was thin again? Scary thought!
I’ve always had a fear of abandonment – that my husband would decide that he no longer wanted to be with me, and then I would be ALONE. I was doing a writing assignment that asked what I might be afraid of if I lost the weight or what it might be protecting me from. I talked it through with a friend and had some realizations:
When I was thin, men paid A LOT more attention to me. During a time when things weren’t very close between my husband and myself, this lead to a situation I’m not proud of and felt very guilty about. SHAME. Would that happen again? Would it bring about the abandonment that I fear so strongly? Would he not want to be with me? Or me him? God, I hope not! I love my husband deeply and sincerely. Either way, they are thoughts that are difficult to voice and even harder to try and answer.
I also had an experience this past weekend that I didn’t like seeing … my full body in a mirror (as opposed to just my head and shoulders in the bathroom mirror.) I was at a yoga and meditation retreat on Sunday. An hour and a half of gentle yoga, 45 minutes of mindfulness meditation, lunch, repeat. As the day was ending, I saw myself in the mirror and was horrified at how huge I am, not just compared to the others in attendance either. My mind’s view of myself is so different, night and day. I should have been clued in by how much flexibility I’ve lost and how much harder some things are to do these days. But denial has been deep. I could barely hold back from breaking into tears at what I saw – the truth. And the truth hurts.
Even though my mental state is better than it has been in years, I have build up a, literally, huge wall around myself over the past twenty years – since treatment for bulimia and coming clean to my husband about myself. So now what do I do? I want my body to reflect the person I see in my mind’s eye, not a wallowing body of whatever I may be hiding or hiding from. But how? And who will support me in THIS journey?
As I discussed the writing question, mentioned above, with my friend, she challenged me. She observed how analytical I get about myself. It’s an endless chatter in my head that I haven’t been able to stop. I can do words really well. I’ve mentioned that to more than one counselor. I know the things to say. It’s the doing that I have trouble with.
Anyways, that’s where I’m at right now. Thanks for reading and helping me get back into my blog.
I usually try to include a picture with each post. I don’t want to add another one of me though. This one is of an orchid rock rose growing in my garden. I think it’s beautiful. The petals are like tissue paper and only last a day.
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.
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?
Here is an attempt to write, jogged by a post by Jensinewell “Walking Through Doors” and how we often forget what we were looking for once we have changed environments. My comment to her post was that I have to stop walking through doors because I can’t remember anything. She suggested staying in one room to see if my memory improved, but which room?
The Memory Room
My mind is full of memories:
lessons learned, taught, memorized, forgotten.
Snapshots of my childhood
reality or stories told too often?
Years pass and memories layer like shingles on a roof.
Protection that gets added to, even as it decays over time.
Corners chip, debris erodes, layers buried.
Some are lost in storms, unnoticed for the moment, ’til needed.
A damaged section causes grief and needs attending to.
But where is it?
That Memory, that shingle
that has been
The Memory Room is there to fill in all the gaps;
from the grocery item you didn’t write down,
and forgot as soon as you walked out of the house,
to the exam question that you studied so hard for,
and lost the answer to as soon as you started the exam.
When list making or studying is done in the Memory Room,
those memories are never forgotten.
They are written write into your long term memory
as if they were your genetic makeup.
So take care what you choose to learn in there!
But there is yet a deeper side to the Memory Room
for memories of the past.
Sit in the room and be still, but not alone,
and all of your past will come back to you –
you cannot pick and choose.
Oh, that you could.
For that is what I fear –
that there will be something
I don’t want to see,
or possible worse,
nothing at all.
I’m trying to clarify what’s going on with me for my husband – how he seems to perceive it vs how I perceive it. But I’d like to get some feedback from you who follow my blog to see if what I’ve written makes sense. Please help me to clarify this as much as I can for him. He loves me and I love him.
Here’s how it seems that you see me – please correct me if and where I am wrong. And then I will attempt to explain how I perceive myself to you.
Here seems to be what we’ve both observed: I don’t do well with calmness. I need to keep my plate full to overfull.
* You told me that I seem to seek out things to get upset about. And if those get resolved, I find other things.
* I need to be upset. I need to feel like a martyr
* I take little things and make them into big things.
* I pick on Peter, or you
* I take things too personally
* I don’t see how little wrongs are in the big picture ( I can’t tolerate them) all or nothing
* I obsess
* I look for things to be wrong
* I don’t seem to want to be happy
OK, Here’s what it feels like from inside me … pretty creepy some times
* ANGER upsets me: mine, yours, Dad’s – anyone’s. Loud voices, doors slamming, screams. It doesn’t have to be directed at me even. But I’m always afraid it will be. It can be in a movie, a book, taking place in my vicinity, caused by me, aimed at me, …
* I feel very anxious about … everything … my work (that I can’t do it right, have become incompetent ….etc) moving, making decisions, choices I’ve make that have impact where we’re at in life now, how I’ve been as a parent, wife, daughter, what I’ll do after we move.
* I love you very much and most of the time I feel that you know best about everything. However, there are moments, when my thinking gets twisted and I lose sight of that and only see what I’m upset about, and can’t see the good for the bad (so to speak) It’s called black and white thinking. This doesn’t happen often, but like my anger, is like a switch being flipped. impulsive.
* Sometimes, when we’re arguing, I may seem to drift off and to seem to be taking what you’re saying very seriously. What it is it that I can’t connect with what you’re saying so I dissociate from it. This doesn’t happen often, only when I’m really upset by what’s being said like when you said you didn’t think you could stay with me. I just couldn’t register that.
* Nothing seems top be able to remain “little” in my mind. It’s not that I TRY to take little thing and make them into big things, it’s just that by having them around as “issues”, they hale me avoid myself – what are actually the real big issues. Same with picking fights with Peter and you. keeping it away from myself, – I’m not the problem. When I really am. What my problem is is how emotionally sensitive I am an how difficult it is for me to control y emotions. That seems to be why I try and divert everything away from MY emotions and onto someone else’ or some other situation.
* I keep thinking that if someone or something forces me to come face to face with myself, without the ability to run away from it, I’ll be in a sink or swim situation. And I hope it’ll be a swim. Sit me down, force me to face my demons, my feelings, finding out that I won’t actually die from them. I just don’t seem to be able to see things as they really are. I try to, but it’s always distorted.
* When there’s nothing going on to keep me preoccupied, it’s a very uncomfortable feeling. I don’t know what to do! That’s where impulsive behavior can come in, I HAVE to do SOMETHING to have some kind of feeling. If I don’t, other feeling seep in that can be uncomfortable to deal with. And when they do, my behaviors can become even more out of control to try and push those feelings down (cutting, burning, yelling/anger erratic driving – ask Peter)
* I need to learn to tolerate them and listen to the part of my mind that says it’s ok. This move may be a part of that change in me.
* Right now I find myself hyper sensitive to emotions of sadness, loneliness, and fear of loss. I’ve always been afraid of losing you even though you remain with me. Abandonment
Friday was a challenge. All during therapy sessions, I kept wondering if insurance would cover me for any more days or if it was my last day. Finally, right before I left, I found out that I can have 3 more days, but they want them split up (MWF) rather than MTW. A step-down plan. Anyways, I was anxious about that and other general things on my mind.
Once that part of the day was over, I went to spend the evening with my parents. My dad (I’m sure he’s undiagnosed bipolar) was in a down phase. It had obviously been a difficult week for my mom. Within minutes, I had made myself a stiff drink. It was the first drink I’d had in 2 weeks. I did make it last 2 hours, but it was still a break in abstinence. I was having a hard time being with them because of my dad’s mood, but decided to push through for a few hours, putting on my happy face.
This morning was a session with my psychiatrist to check on meds and fill out long-term disability paperwork. When I got home, I saw that no medical records had been attached, and now I’m worried about that. My appointment started and ended late, and then it took about 45 minutes to get my script filled because the didn’t realize I was waiting for it for about a half hour! All of thins had my morning off to a very late start. I was suppose to help with testing at my dojo, but was now unable to get there in time. It would have been almost done by the time I got there. So … more anxiety. Time to go back to my parents’ to pick up my son. Started off well enough, but then he and I started arguing. Partly 16 year old “I know everything and you don’t) attitude, partly my impulsive anger acting up.
I tried really hard to turn the afternoon around. I stopped myself from yelling or judging. I laughed and talked. I worked in the yard. We decided to spend some family time together doing errands and going out to supper. All went well. I didn’t have anything to drink with supper. We then went for frozen custard. It was really good! I thought I had succeeded. As we got closer to home, I started to feel very full. The custard topped it off and felt cool in my stomach.
I had decided by the time we got home. Into the bathroom I went. I haven’t been able to purge for a long time (possibly years) because of shooting chest pains I get when I try. But ice cream can be different. Slickery. And the coldness helps, I think. Anyway, I did it. I puked up all the frozen custard. I stopped before the burger I’d had for supper started coming up. I’m afraid that would have initiated the chest pains.
Now I have the shame of breaking abstinence in two areas. And no one knows except those who might read it here. Why? Why? I think I have a clue … the last two days have been comparatively quiet. Calm has become difficult for me to tolerate. I sabotage it, returning to chaos. Or was it the conversation with Dave just before we left the house … what WAS it about? I remember holding in tears as I left. But, for the life of me, I can’t remember what he said! If I remember, I’ll add it in.
So, was it the calm or the comment? It may have been either, both, or possibly neither and something completely different. Here I am, at the close of Saturday, having coped in unhealthy ways twice in 24 hours. And the weekend is only half over. I did find a poem that I wrote almost exactly 3 years ago …
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!