The problem with being anonymous

I have so many things I would love to share with you.  Pictures of my children, my lovely little dog, my huge Christmas tree...the list goes on and on.  I took a risk by posting my cupcakes in my last post.  I may have to delete that photo. *sigh*  I could be "found out."

This is the problem with having to be anonymous.  I can only post so much.  In the beginning this was enough for me.  In the beginning I was really, really down.  I didn't care much about any of the things that usually make me happy.

I Googled myself today.  Well, I Googled Blissseeker.  The second hit was my Twitter account.  I clicked next and found a tweet I had made to someone.  I clicked next one more time and found "Rider Of The Storm".  My blog.  It's too risky to get personal.

Perhaps I will start a new blog.  I will secretly follow all of you!  You will never know it's me and then I can show you all of the things I love.  All of the other things, aside from BPD, that make me...me!

Blissseeker xo

A Wonderful Surprise To End A Wonderful Day

My daughter turned 8 today.  I have been stressing over it for about two weeks.  I really wanted to give her the best party she has ever had.

I baked cherry flavored cupcakes and then made a full hearted attempt at decorating them.  In my head, I envisioned beautifully iced cakes all pretty and pink.  The kind you see in magazines or on Martha Stewart.  I bought a 3 tiered cupcake stand, an icing kit and confetti sprinkles.  Please keep in mind that I am not the most "domestic" of moms.  I really want to be though!  I was happy with the finished result.  The cupcakes were pretty and they were pink.  I honestly didn't mean for them to turn out looking like they have nipples.  Hopefully, I'm the only one who noticed!  They won't be in the next issue of Good Housekeeping but...not too awful for my first baking session in 15 years!  More importantly, I really, really enjoyed myself. 

We planned a "movie theater" theme complete with a projector, screen and authentic movie theater popcorn.

The kids had a blast!  I heard a little girl say that it was the best birthday party she had ever attended.  When my daughter politely said "thank you" the girl exclaimed "no really, I mean the best"!

I was over the moon.

The second wave of the party began within an hour of the first.  This one was for friends and family.

I served an array of hors d'oeuvres, a meat tray with a large assortment of buns, the usual veggie and fruit trays and a delicious spinach, artichoke and cheese dip with pita bread triangles.  My mother made her famous money cake.  It contained $8.00 in loonies and toonies.  Don't worry, she cleans the coins really well and  wraps them in wax paper.  It's all very hygienic and everyone loves it!  The Coronas were free flowing, the children consumed waay too much sugar, there was tissue paper everywhere.  It was messy...and wonderful.  I loved every moment.

At the end of the night, after cleaning and putting everyone to bed, I decided to upload my photos from the day.  I uploaded them to Facebook and when I was finished, decided to make a quick visit to Bloggerville.

This is how I came to discover the wonderful surprise which awaited me.

My FIRST blog award!

Never in my wildest dreams did I ever expect to receive one of these lovely little gems.  There are so many fabulous blogs out there.  How could someone think that mine was one of them?  I am honored and blown away by all of this!  Thank you Jen, of "Starting Over" for including me as one of your 5 faves.  I am speechless...and if you ask the people I'm close with, that's nearly impossible!  Your comments always cheer me up and it's nice to know that someone out there is listening to all of my blethering and whining!

So, now it's my turn.  I must pass this award forward, to five more wonderful people.  This is harder than I thought it would be.  Especially because my irrational thoughts (due to BPD)  are telling me that people will be angry or even hurt, if I don't choose them.  This is actually turning out to be quite therapeutic!  I am going to use my DBT skills I have been learning.  In particular, the one called "opposite action".  Normally I would put this off until I drove myself totally CrAzY!  Not tonight.  Tonight, I am going to choose with no regrets!  I love you all but I can only choose five.  Here they are!

f8hasit
You simply must visit this blog.  She is able to take every day life situations and retell them in such a way that you cannot stop reading!  My fave is only pie, and nevermore....  I read it three times:)


365 Days of People
He has vowed to write everyday for 365 days.  He is currently on day 112.  All though he has to write on command, he certainly keeps it fresh and whitty.  Always!


Crazy People I've Worked With
Anita posts people's hilarious stories about strange and whacky people they have worked with.  This blog always makes me smile and I love, love, love Anita's dry sense of humor!  Her comments on each story are always filled with fabulous sarcasim.


Ride My Mind
Wonderfully written.  This "blog about nothing" is really something!  His most recent post, "Haunted By The Holiday Spirit" really tugged at my heart strings.


Nat The Fat Rat
Charming!  She lets you into her life and shares it all.  It's like you really know her.  She becomes your "bestie"!

So that's it then.  I could have gone on and on about so many more blogs but I stubbornly narrowed it down to five.  Thanks all, for your wonderful words:)

A brief glimpse of an old friend...myself

I don't know.  I just don't know.

I've been missing myself for about a year now.  The me that I had developed over the past decade or so.  I had picked things up from people over the years and had put together a "patch work" personality that I was somewhat comfortable with.
Then, I moved.
I couldn't be that person anymore.  All of the new people who were now apart of my new were nothing like the old ones.  I didn't match.  And so, the cycle started all over again.  I changed, like the chameleon that I am, to fit my environment.
But I am 32 now.  I don't like change.  I began to hate the person I was becoming.  I went into mourning.  This is what lead to my August hospitalization.
Yesterday, I finally agreed to get together with a couple of old friends.  We had dinner, drank some wine, caught up on old times while Nirvana's "Live at Reading" DVD played in the back ground.  My heart opened up...and I was back.  I was alive again.  What I said mattered, I made people laugh and I was not afraid.
Although I did experience some paranoia the next day, I did not replay the night, over and over in my mind the way I always do after a social event.  I felt mostly content. 
No regrets.
What a lovely evening.  It was a nice visit...with me.

Black Butterfly, her end will come, only when mine does

Writings from my journal during my last hospitalization in August '09

The black butterfly consumes me, controls me...she knows me.
She cannot  be killed with chemicals...for years we have tried yet she lives on, stronger this year, than the years before.
She loathes my happiness, despises any self control.
should  she discover a hint of either one, she gobbles them up and becomes more volatile by spitting them back out upon the world as anger, pain, sadness, hopelessness, hate, fear and paranoia.
Defeated, I recoil into myself, begging for someone to destroy her.
She is no ordinary, delicate, colorful butterfly.
Not like the beautiful ones living within children, tickling their fat,
little tummies, causing them to giggle with delight.
My butterfly  is black, wrought iron with razor sharp wings.
She cannot...will not be broken...
until...
I finally am.

Intro to Black Butterflies

From my journal while hospitalized in August '09

Black butterflies begin to stir in my belly,
they work their way up to my chest...
then my mind.
Their Razor sharp wings shred apart my insides causing everything to jumble and spin and ache.
Everything heats from the friction and begins to boil over until suddenly the explosion erupts from my brain, my belly, my chest.
Thousands of black butterflies spew from my body...from every pore...from every part of my being.
Unleashed upon it, the world gasps and is repulsed by my loyal pets.
They swarm around me for hours...days...and then return home to hide.


                                                                                       

Art work by Jasmine Becket-Griffith                                                        
"Dark Ribbon Fairy"
                                                                                            

If I'm so crazy, then why do people keep having sex with me?

I couldn't help myself.  I HAD to share this article.  It gave me a chuckle:)

The beginning of what I thought was the end...

I have been thoroughly enjoying the past couple of days.  In between Doctors, kids, boyfriends and other such things I have been glued to Blogger.


I am somewhat concerned that certain individuals may start to think of me as a stalker as I suddenly begin to appear in the "Followers" box of many of their favorite blogs.  It started innocently enough.  It began with my discovery of f8hasit (btw, I am very proud to have discovered how to create a link) through "blog of note".  I immediately fell in love with her witty and interesting stories.  I decided to be daring and leave a comment on a particularly delicious story "only pie, and never more..." Soon after, I was pleased to find that I had two new followers!   Feeling rather good about myself and the comments left, I decided to explore the rest of the blogger kingdom. 

I came to the conclusion that if I'm following someone because I find them interesting, then they must be following people equally as good.  And so I began to read many of the blogs my followers follow. (too much use of the word follow?) and  I was right.  Now I have become completely absorbed by other people's words.  I love discovering a new blog.  I love finding interesting  posts and widgets.  I love that every one of them is original and custom made with care.  I have especially been enjoying the feeling you get when you glance at the clock and realize that two hours have crept past you...unnoticed. 

Yes...I am enjoying the fact that I am enjoying something.  I feel good about the fact that I have my own blog too.  I have potential and as of today FOUR people are listening!  I can't help but feel like these people are discovering me from the beginning of what I thought was the end.  Something that has been in my opinion, very raw and which has been written with little thought and mostly emotion.

I'm feeling much better now so...where do I go from here?

I intended for this to be a place where I could say what I wanted to say out loud.  It was about BPD and how I suffer.  It was sad.  Who wants to follow a blog that is always down and depressing?  Apparently not very many people!  I get that.

I think this may be the beginning of  a change.  Like my moods, I can see this thing going up and down which is why I still feel that the name is fitting.  "Rider Of The Storm".  That's exactly what it's like.

Have you ever been on a sailboat?  My father had one when I was a kid.  It was a Macgregor 25  called Clova.  He named it (should I be calling it her?) after Glen Clova, a beloved glen in Scotland which is  close to my heart.  We used to go on long trips (they seemed long to me because I hated it most of the time) from Mississauga, Ontario to Toronto Island.  It would take a couple of hours to get there at times but it's not the destination I am relating to.  It's the Journey.

Sometimes it would be "smooth sailing".  Calm waters which would allow me to relax on the bow of the boat and soak in some sun.  At those times it was beautiful.  The water sparkled like diamonds in the sun and  everyone in the family was happy.

Suddenly without warning the wind would pick up.  That's when the chaos began.  My dad would start shouting out instructions and everyone was expected to be on the ball.  The boat would move quickly, slicing through small waves and bouncing up and down.  It was at this point that my very cute little brother would begin to get sick.  He wasn't the only one.  Our poor little Miniature Samoyed (the family dog) couldn't hold it in for very long either.  Between the two of them, my mother would be frantically trying to clean the mess before it spread.

 While all of this was happening, I would usually be holding on to the bars of the bow with my feet dragging through  the water, my hair whipping around my face and my cheeks stinging from the wind.  And then... out of no where, just like that, the wind would disappear and the waters would return to normal.  That is how my mind works too.  My emotions change suddenly, without warning.

Anyhow, I think that I have completely drifted away from what I intended to write about.  I will need to work on that!  What I was trying to get at is that my blog is about to become  multi-faceted and I am looking forward to the change.  Directing my attention to something positive can only be good!

Long story short, I have enjoyed the past couple of days reading all of your blogs.  You have inspired me to get well.  You have inspired me to write about things other than how sad, angry, scared or alone I feel a lot of the time.  You have inspired me to want to write about  the"happy" times too.  I will try to focus on those things with all of you in mind.

Thanks xo

The one that starts out happy but ends on a bad note...why does that happen so often?

My depression has lifted!!!  I still have to deal with BPD and an anxiety disorder but my depression has LIFTED!  It feels really nice to be able to have some positive thoughts and optimism.  I'm hoping it lasts for at least a week.   Maybe this year of hell is over.  Maybe my life will go back to the usual borderline "craziness" and I will no longer live in this deep, dark and secret hole that I have inhabited for close to a year.

That acutally sounds strange, doesn't it?

I am looking forward to my life with BPD?

No, of course not because borderline is it's own kind of hell but it's much worse when you pair it with an anxiety disorder AND deep depression.

I am hoping that it's the medication and therapy that are helping because if they are, I may have a chance at keeping this good feeling.  If it's just a fluke, a flash in the pan, well then I could sink back under at any moment.

As I have said before, I can't really put a finger on when my emotions began to rule my world.  I believe it started at a young age.  I believe that growing up for me was a nightmare of it's own.  The problem is that I don't remember a lot of it and the majority of what I do remember is bad.

Enter... the Facebook photos....dah, dah, dah  (that was supposed to sound dramatic)

A few days ago I logged into Facebook just to see what was going on.  There they were on my page.  Someone had posted pictures (and tagged me in them)  of  what appears to be two different parties.  The comments under the pictures were things like "oh, I remember this like it was yesterday" and "Check out our acid washed mini skirts, I hear they're coming back in style".  Someone asked how old we were when these were taken and another replied that we must have been in grade 6 or 7.

I don't remember those parties like they were yesterday.  I don't even remember all of the kids in the picture or on the thread. I certainly don't remember getting invited to parties! I did recognize two girls.  I remember that I wanted to be like them.  They were pretty and confident.  No one teased them.  Everyone liked them.  They were always nice to me.

So there I was.  Sitting in a chair smiling at the camera.  I had shoulder length hair (permed of course..it was the 80's after all) and a pretty smile.  My eyes were were big and beautiful.  I can't help but notice that all though I was quite thin, my legs look really nice in that acid washed mini skirt. I look happy.  I look innocent.  The girl in the photo is not the girl I think of when I go back to those days in my mind.

 

 
In my mind, that girl is ugly.  She has a big nose and horrible teeth.  She has an obnoxious personality that no one liked.  She is too skinny and her clothes aren't cool enough to be a part of the "in" crowd.  She is reminded of these things every day by all of the other kids.  They go out of there way to be cruel.  They follow her home after school spitting on her and calling her by a nickname.  Every where she moves, every new school she goes to has that one kid who thinks they are original when they come up with that nickname. It's always the same one.  It will haunt her through to grade 10.  That's when she will turn to the world, give it the finger and become what society considers "bad".  The kids didn't bother her after that.  They just left her alone.

O.K!  That was just a horrible moment.  Going back to that place in my head is not a great place to be.  Let's get back on track shall we?

My point is this.  When I looked through the pictures... I saw a different girl looking back at me.  I wasn't any of those things.  There was nothing wrong with the way I looked.  And on top of that, there I was at a party with two girls that I remember being pretty popular.  It looks like I must have had some friends.  I seem to be enjoying myself.  No one is pointing and laughing.  And it's more beautiful because I realize that my gorgeous daughter looks like me!

So here is my problem.  I don't know what is real anymore.  How "horrible" were things really?  Did I get teased here and there but because of BPD it was blown out of proportion in my mind?

  In my mind, the teasing never ends.  Even my little brother used to get in on the act by shooting spit balls at me on the bus with the other kids.

I know it all happened.

But then how do you explain this seemingly happy moment captured forever on film.  Further more, if it is my mind, then have I remembered the abuse from my father incorrectly too?  Did we really have more good times than bad?  I have heard of people blocking out all of the bad things that have happened to them but never all of the good!

This is something I will have to bring up to the Dr. on Friday.  Maybe she will have an answer.  How early can BPD possibly start?

In the mean time.  Some of these girls contact me every once in a while just to say "hi".  Do you think it's a good idea to ask them what they remember?  If I do, they will know how much it has upset my life.  I don't really want them to know but I would like an answer to my question.

Was it really as bad as I believe it was?

Girls who are hated by everyone don't get invited to parties.  Do they?

In and Out

If you die you're completely happy and your soul somewhere lives on. I'm not afraid of dying. Total peace after death, becoming someone else is the best hope I've got.
- Kurt Cobain


 My mind plays tricks on me.  I can't decide if things are getting better or just staying the same or maybe becoming worse than ever.

My weeks have been peppered with good days.  Sometimes these days last two in a row!  What are "good days"?

A very good day would consist of the absence of sadness, pain, anxiety, shame and anger.  On these days I am able to smile and sometimes even laugh with those I love.  I have patience for my children (and others) and I feel competent.  I feel like I can really get things done.  I am able to look forward to the future and I am pretty optimistic.  I can be optimistic because I usually forget how bad it was when I was down.

I find it hard to remember how it feels to be in my emotions.  I am only reminded when I am in the thick of it.  I do however remember the "high" of happiness.  To me it has become a drug that I want more of.  I rarely get even a small dose but when I do experience it I truly put myself in the moment.  This is a DBT practice that I usually have to work very hard at unless I am having an exceptionally lovely emotion.  It is then that I soak it up rather than being soaked up by it.  I'm not too sure if that makes sense to anyone else but it does to me.

Today I am full of shame and anxiety.  DBT is teaching me the importance of labeling my emotions and then describing them.  It helps if you can figure out where they are coming from.  Two days ago I attended a wedding reception.  I drank a little more than I should have and now I worry that I said or did things to offend those around me. Possibley the bride and groom.   My boyfriend says I didn't but he wasn't with me all of the time.  I tend to misbehave more when he is absent.  Wedding's always bring up negative emotions for me.  When I pair them with alcohol it's never good.  I hurt myeself that night after everyone left the house.  Why do I do that?

My AHA!!! Moment

 Artwork by: Angelina Wrona (this one is my fave.) "Psst"




I've been dealing with my mental illness for so long that it has become who I am.  Everyday, every where I go it's there with me.  I suppose this is why I just assume that other people see it.  That they see there is something not quite right.

Today that assumption changed.

I was on the 9th floor of the hospital which is the Acute Mental Health level.  While waiting for the elevator (the very slow elevator)  a pair of paramedics with a stretcher came out of the locked area where they keep the admitted patients.  The elevator doors finally opened and we all piled in.  I always feel akward when other people get on the elevator with me.  They know what floor I'm coming from and I have always assumed that they know I'm a patient.  I am embarrassed by the fact that I'm a patient.

I pressed the button that would take us to the first floor and the doors closed.  It was silent for a little while.  You know what I mean.  That strange kind of silence that feels very uncomfortable because you are all in such close proximity.  The younger of the two men looked at me and grinned.

"did you sign yourself out?"

He laughed at his own joke.

At first I thought that I should take offense.  I mean really. It's not something to tease a person about!

"remember you have to stay on hospital property"

Again, he found himself very funny and laughed.

It was then that I realized (I think this is due to my DBT group) that he wasn't making fun of me at all!

He was being a bit flirty and he didn't realize or even think that I was a patient!  He was treating me as a "normal" person and that I was a part of an "inside joke".  He was making fun of the mental patients with me as if I wasn't one.

I usually judge the other people that come into my DBT group.  I usually judge anyone coming from the 9th or 10th floor.  A lot of the time I can (or I think I can) peg who is a patient and who is a visitor.  The patients usually look a bit rough, out of place or somewhat poor.  I realize that this is a horrible judgment as I am one of them and I realize that I am awful for secretly thinking that I am better than most of them.  This is something that I would NEVER openly admit.  I guess I have been feeding into the stereotype that I have been fighting so hard to dispel.

Don't get me wrong.  There are occasions when I meet patients that I feel are more like me.  They look like everyone else.  They appear to "have it together".  I have always tried very hard to obtain this type of appearance but was never sure if I was pulling it off.

Today I found out that I am.

It felt good.  Really good.

Now I know that I don't appear to be "defective" to anyone.  I blend in.  That's all I ever wanted to do.

I have learned a lesson.  I am going to make a conscious effort to refrain from judging others based on their appearance.  I was wrong and ignorant.  Mental health can affect anyone from every walk of life.  There is no "face" to Borderline Personality Disorder.  There is no standard "look".  We are simply people just trying to feel better and struggling to survive.

It's hard enough living with this illness without having to worry about what clothes you are wearing or if your hair is out of place. 

Lesson learned!

Failure

Artwork by: Angelina Wrona  "Sakura"

One of the medications I'm taking is making my head feel fuzzy. I feel restless and cannot sleep without taking Seroquel. I used to sleep a lot so this is a huge change for me. I'm glad I'm not so tired anymore but I can't stand the feeling of fuzziness in my brain.

My son is not doing well in school. He says he doesn't care. He says he wants me to stop caring about what he does and that he hates coming home. He is complaining that I'm trying to make our family perfect by cooking meals and insisting that we eat together at the table. It's upsetting me. I am getting frantic and I am having drastic idea's of what I need to do next.

I keep telling myself that I need to sell the house and go back to where I started. It was safer in subsidised housing. If I got sick, my rent simply went down. Now I'm VERY sick and the mortgage just stays the same. My boyfriend cannot pick up the slack and I don't think I should expect him too. He entered this part of our relationship with the understanding that we would both be working and that I would pay my share. I cannot expect him to take all of the financial burden. I am going to be getting long term disability from work but it's not nearly as much as what I was earning. I feel sorry for him and have thoughts of running away to save him.

I believe that I set myself up for this. I set my goals high, wanting to prove to my family that I could be somebody. My dad died before he could see what I had accomplished however I felt proud of myself regardless. Now I fear that I took on too much. I fear that I'm about to lose everything. I think my mother and brother were just waiting for this to happen. They always expected me to fail.

As for my son, I think I messed up. My daughter is very smart but she is displaying signs of low self esteem and a negative attitude towards herself.

What have I done?

I don't deserve to have children.

I should let my boyfriend go. No one deserves this life. It's not his fault I have this sickness.

I am a monster.

Panic Time

Art Work By: Angelina Wrona "Dee Dees Hideout"


Do you ever have those smack yourself in the forehead moments?

I had one last night.

I have not told my employer or employees why I am off sick. All they know is ...I'm off sick.

I have been using Twitter as a means of meeting others with my illness. I have been posting my blog link there. I did this all under my real name. Anyone could look me up, ANYONE!

Last night this thought occurred to me and that's when I did it. I smacked myself in the forehead and under my breath muttered the words "what have I done"?

I mean really!? What was I thinking. I am now convinced that someone from work has looked me up and the "story of my life" has been spread throughout the store. This realization is not working so well with my BPD way of thinking. I am FREAKING out. I have now deleted my beloved Twitter account and started a new one under a new identity. It won't be easy rebuilding but it's all I could do.

I was not ready to go back to work as it is but now, I feel I just can't.

Perhaps I should request a transfer to another location?

I'm not really sure what to do at this point. Any suggestions?

3 Days of Hell

 Artwork by: Angelina Wrona  "Water Lily"



All I can say about the past few days is that I rode the storm hard and fast and seem to have made it out with little damage. Apart from some minor cutting ( just enough to get the edge off) I am unharmed.

By today I thought it was over. There was no way out of this horrible, shitty hand I've been dealt other than death.

What kept me here? My boyfriend is away on vacation. I have no one to turn to where we live as this is his city, not mine. Who would take care of my kids? Did I really want one of them to find me? What if I didn't finish what I started, end up in hospital and they take the kids away forever? No, I just couldn't deal with any of those options. It seems that I am still waiting for the perfect time. When all of the pieces are in the right places.

I will never escape BPD. All I can do is try to survive it everyday.

Tonight I did the housework while ranting and yelling. I managed to cook dinner and around that time I finally, after my 3 day "episode" began to feel the calm.

Now as I type this I am optimistic about tomorrow. Another DBT class. And who knows what else. I pray I will be content. I'm not even asking for happy anymore. Just to be content.

The Beginning of Something Bad

Artwork By: Angelina Wrona "Framed"



Empty. A shell of a person. That is who I am.

I just came home from my DBT group. I am broken after what happened at Thanksgiving dinner. I have decided to cut myself off from that part of the family. I no longer feel that I can trust my son. He is on their side now. I've lost him forever.

If my boyfriend was here, if I had anyone here to care for my daughter...I would be gone tonight.

Thanksgiving???

So I think I need to take a breath before I put what I'm feeling down in writing.

inhale.....exhale....inhale...exhale....(this is a DBT skill) :)

OK

I reluctantly went to my mother's (non-biological) house for Thanksgiving dinner tonight. I never enjoy attending these functions because they usually end up badly. Come to think of it, any event where my family gets together usually ends up with me running away in tears, pledging to myself that I will never, ever talk to any of them again.

I realize that I have irrational thoughts. Sometimes I realize that when I'm thinking them.

But that doesn't stop me from believing they are factual.

The slightest thing can trigger my emotions to go "off the wall". Once I'm there, there is no turning back. I say and do things that I will later regret and then have to suffer through the shame and self hate.

Tonight my family accused me of "looking for things to fight about". I NEVER search for a fight because it feels so awful to have those emotions. If they would only try to understand what is really going on in my head then maybe, just maybe things could be different.

Sometimes I resent them because I believe that I have BPD because of them. Is that even right? With all that I have read, it seems to me that there are many factors involved in someone becoming Borderline. Patients are born already overly sensitive. Then the environmental factors come in to play and determine how good or bad it's going to turn out.

Me? I'm a classic case. I was born in 1976 to my young married parents. Within about a year they were divorced. My father, being a very powerful person gained custody of me and quickly whisked me away from Canada to Scotland to live with my Grandparents. That was it I think. The first strike. I had lost my mother and father. I was too young to understand that at least my Dad would come back but by the time he did, my Granny tells me that I didn't remember him anymore. He took me away, back to Canada and there it was again, already before the age of two. My Grandparents whom I had come to be very attached to, were gone too. It's not that I never saw them again. I did see them about once a year when I was small. But they, in that short time had become my parents. When we got back he had a new woman to take my birth mother's place. They eventually got married and she adopted me. She raised me to the age of 14. I'll get into what happens after that another time.

Over the years my father became increasingly abusive both verbally and sometimes physically. While all of that was going on, I was being relentlessly teased in school. We moved almost every year as my father was a pilot trying to gain momentum in his career. I was always the new kid and I was always disliked. It got to the point where I did not have a "safe" place to go to. Both home and school were a bad place to be. The kids would follow me home from school, teasing me about this and that and then I would arrive home to be picked on some more. I think this is why I began to dissociate from the world.

I have only just discovered the world of blogging and at the moment I am using it as a form of therapy. It calms me (DBT says to distract yourself from the emotion) when I write. Whether or not I am good at it is a different story. I will perfect it as I go along. I logged on today, pleased to see that I had my first follower! And from the UK to boot! The place I love because I have the best memories there. Thank you for following me and for your comments:) It means a lot.

20 minutes ago I was considering the worst things imaginable. I now feel like I'm in a safer place where I can manage this safely. I do feel shame though. Everyone is upset with me and I left my son with my mother because I felt that he took her side.

I'm sure tomorrow everything will be back to the way it always is. Just pretend it never happened and "get on with it" as my Granddaddy always said.

"this too, shall pass"

xoxo Granddaddy, I miss you

Alone again, for the first time in a year

I stayed up too late last night. That's a big no no for me. I had a friend over. She's a new friend to me and I was having plenty of irrational thoughts. I am usually able to realize when I'm having irrational thoughts because of the Dialectical Behaviour Therapy group I have been attending 3 times a week. That being said, I still can't stop myself from believing them and worrying about them. All could think of was that I was boring her to tears and that she was never going to want to hang out with me again. At least not in a one on one situation. I couldn't fall asleep when I got to bed at 4am and was afraid to take my meds that help me sleep because I didn't want to be groggy all day today. The problem is that I can't fall asleep without my meds. It takes hours without them. I take Seroquel at night. It helps quiet the thoughts and worries that flood my head all of the time. It allowes me to stop thinking so much and fall asleep quickly.

Today I am feeling some anxiety for no reason at all. Other than that my emotions are pretty stable. The meds are starting to work I think. I take Wellbutrin during the day.

I was a single parent for most of my son's life. I met my boyfriend 5 yrs ago. My daughter was only 3yrs old so she has known him always as far as she is concerned. Since we moved in together a year ago, I have realized the relief of having another adult in the house to help out. I have lived with other men throughout my son's life but they were never helpful and really just made things worse. As this year has gone by, I have given up a lot of the duties I used to do on my own. I allowed my boyfriend to take over. I allowed him to take over everything. Slowly I have become co dependant. He left yesterday for a vacation that I just couldn't face going on. I am now alone again in this house with my two kids. I'm scared. I now have to do everything myself again and I'm not sure that I can do an effective job. I'm really going to try though. Wish me luck;) I'll keep you posted.

My first disclosure

Today I'm feeling content. I have had very little anxiety and I think the medications are kicking in. Some days are not so great. Some days I feel like dying.

I have Borderline Personality Disorder. It's still difficult for me to say out loud. I have told some close friends and posted a few things on Facebook but other than that, it's my secret.

I do not remember exactly when my emotions started to become so over whelming. I do remember having what I call "episodes" early on in life. I have done extensive research on my disorder and I can tell you that after doing so, I started to listen to my doctors. When I was finally diagnosed properly a couple of months ago I thought that maybe they were just wrong. After all, they had been wrong before. I was once told at the age of 15 that I had Multiple Personality Disorder. HA!

So here I am today. I'm supposed to be an adult. I have two children and a boyfriend of almost 5 years. I see my friends and how they handle everything so well. Everything just seems harder for me. Most days just getting out of bed is hard for me. I realize that sounds like I'm full of self pity but I'm really not. I'm just speaking of my reality, the truth for once out loud.