I want to cut. I don’t know why, but I do. It feels like I’m having an affair with this desire. Why? I’m hovering at my desk, behind my husbands back. We went out for New Year’s Eve and stayed in a hotel. I took my exacto knife, though I didn’t use it. I want to. I don’t know why. I’ve been drinking more, perhaps that’s it. Then, why do I drink? I don’t know why. My meds are out, but I’m still here. My heart beats faster, a secret feeling – this desire. Why? Why? My mood is even, maybe that’s what’s scaring me. It feels uncomfortable, not right, not me. My son is on vacation now, 2,000 miles away. Our arguing is often a trigger because I can’t let go, let him fly. I’ve emailed the last psychiatrist I had – asking for prescriptions. I think I may really need those meds before I fall off the fence of this … contemplation. I really want to cut, it satisfies. It helps me hold in words, thoughts, fears of life I can’t identify. I’m contemplating, examining … where can I cut and it not be seen? I want relief, not attention for it. I’ve learned that I can’t get attention the way I always crave. No deep embrace or touching my face. In love. The love is there, but expression has changed. We’ve gotten older together. It was never your style, though I wanted it so. I want to cut, for more reasons than one. But none of it matters. People just don’t understand. How can I smile and make it all seem so nice? But once distractions are gone, and I’m left to contemplate, I wonder what old age will be like and I see a blank slate. Many times, my husband has asked what I’ll do when our son has gone, into adulthood and away from our home. What will I worry about and fight? I think he’s afraid that he’s next. I really want to cut. A pressure valve of emotions to help keep them hidden. To look normal and happy, I need a distraction. To cut would do it … I could work it for days. Deeper and deeper, like the one behind my knee. I’ve no reason to feel this way, yet I do. It has become my normal. I don’t know how to be truly honest in my feelings and actions. I always live trying to meet expectations. Right this moment, I’m not unhappy or mad (that I know of) yet I still want to cut. For relief from what?
It’s been pouring out for the last few days. Today, even the dog is smart enough to not or eat or drink as much as usual so that she doesn’t have to go out in it to relieve herself – and she’s only 5 months old!
This morning, my emotions were pouring out also. I was just commenting that I haven’t fought with my 16 year old son for days (G*D, he’s as stubborn as I am!) The blame for moving him away from friends and his girlfriend (that he didn’t have when we decided to move, bought the house or for 9 months thereafter before the move!) – the guilt for causing (or feeling I do) such misery in my son – the lack of control as he grows up and ,ichmmmm, independent. I feel like I’m a horrible mother, I know I’m not but I feel like I am. But I do the best I can and I love him with all my heart! So we fought/ argued. All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and disappear, then cut, then burn and then throw myself through my bedroom window. I didn’t, but I wanted to, badly.
I feel like a black plague. Like slime oozing out and over everything in my path, turning sunshine into storms. I know this is not reality, but is psyche influencing the way I see my world and my interaction with it. I went back to bed thinking of pills, razors, burning and escaping emotional pain. What stops me? Would it make anything better for my son and husband? I don’t know. If I knew it would … but I don’t and so I’m still here and still hoping to make forward progress. Still hoping to find peace within myself. Still hoping that life can be lived full of joy – without self inflicting injuries to seal away outside pain, cauterizing my emotions.
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.
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.
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?
This morning began before the dawn. Sprinklers rained down upon lawn and plants before the first light. I took my son to begin his first day in a new school. I guess that means we really have moved and this is our new home. I hope the day goes well for him. I remember when I moved to a new school at the start of sixth grade; I threw up on the bus every morning for a week. Even my sister would not sit with me. It did not go well.
When I returned from taking him to school, I made a cup of coffee and went to sit in the garden, as the sprinklers were done with their morning rain. This is a time I really enjoy! Flocks of tiny gray birds emerge and fly from shrub to shrub drinking up the fresh drops of water dripping from the leaves. Hummingbirds begin their daylong chase/dance with each other. Zipping in spiraling maneuvers like stunt pilots in the sky, sometimes hovering high in the air like tiny crosses before diving straight down. Occasionally, one will pause right before me if I happen to be near the hummingbird feeder, checking me out for safety before going to take a sip. Flycatchers sit at the bird feeder enjoying the shelled sunflower seeds, pecking at the side of the feeder for them to come out faster. Goldfinches try to take turns with a morning bath in the bubbling center of the water fountain, sometimes shoving each other out of the way in their impatience.
As the sun rises higher, the activity in the garden slows down. The Leaves dry off and the flocks fly on. The feeder still has its visitors, though not so many during the heat of the day. The fountain seems to keep busy all day long, as birds, like children, splash in the water to cool off and while away the time.
I’m reblogging this because my comment on it, and the response I got, actually helped me feel better. A relapse doesn’t seem as bad as a disorder continuing on into yet another decade of your life. It’s just a relapse due to stress and triggers and will subside as the stress subsides. AND I am finding that to be true now as my husband has joined me, our house has sold, our belongings are here with us, and life is slowwwwllllly normalizing. My symptoms are decreasing – not gone, but decreasing. So I’d like to thank Amy for her response to my comment and share her post through re-blogging it. =)