It's been a smidgen over seven years since I made an entry in this blog. I could blame it on starting college to get my Masters in January of 2011 while also working part-time. I could blame it on moving to South Carolina in December of 2013 to start my new teaching career and then meeting the man I love in August of 2014. All of that would be true but also, I forgot. You see, when things are going well we forget about the things we did to get to get to that good place. However, as the saying goes, along with the good eventually comes the bad. When things are bad we don't have it within ourselves to think about anything but the circumstances we're in. The pain, the hopelessness, the feelings of being trapped... This leads me to where I have idled the last two years of my life, in the depths of down. Real down. There was even a time I seriously considered leaving this life. I had a plan and I very nearly enacted it but with my last thread of hope I reached for help. I was down, but now, now I feel a rising.
The thing about mental illness is that there is no "fix". No surgery, no medications, no therapy, nothing, to cure it. No, mental illness is like that one person in your life who you try to avoid at all costs but no matter what you do, POP, they eventually find you. You can be nice, you can be mean, you can beg, you can try to trick them, you can even try ignoring them but they've imprinted themselves on you and the only way out is a terminal one. So what do you do if you're not feeling terminally-minded? You make peace.
Making peace isn't easy and sometimes you're going to want to fight and sometimes you're going to want to give in but then again, isn't that what lead you to where you are now? So where do you start if you're like me? By acknowledging you can't fight your mental illness but also refusing to give in. I will make peace with this part of me that I never wanted and I don't deserve but have chosen to accept, nonetheless. It seems like a small thing, making peace and deciding on acceptance. It isn't something you can visibly see happen as it occurs in the head, the heart, and the soul but I assure you, it's enormous. It is with this decision that I begin to rise, like yeast in a oven, from where I was so down to a new beginning. I may stumble, I may even fall, but slowly and surely, I'm going to rise up.
My soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zdHFEkNZM9k
Saturday, January 27, 2018
Monday, December 20, 2010
Entry Nine. Don't Poke The Bear
Let's play a game. What's ravenous and, if you make it angry, you'll surely be sorry? If you read the title you already know. What I'm talking about is a bear. Do you ever feel like a bear? I do. Sometimes I feel like a Black bear or a Brown bear. You know, I just want to sit around and eat and sleep all day. Every now and again, I feel like a Panda bear. I'm extremely clumsy and just want to be by myself. Other times, I feel like a Polar bear. Okay, so not the athletic part of the polar bear. I mean, 80 Km in ice cold water without resting? But that leads me to the curious part. If you know me well, you know I'm always wondering about something. Like, how far can a polar bear swim? Gotta love Google! There are, of course, other types of bears (though to be clear, a Koala bear is not a bear but a marsupial). However, the bear I want to talk about is the Grizzly bear. Boy is it going to be a bad day when I feel the onset of the Grizzly!
I seldom wake as the Grizzly. Normally, it is brought on by a hunter. Someone who willingly goes after the bear. There are many reasons they go hunting. Sometimes they are just out for a fight while other times they just need to give the bear some unfortunate bad news. Okay, so I'm being a little melodramatic with my metaphors here. The truth is, sometimes the reasons that the Grizzly shows up aren't so cut and dry. Sometimes, it can be as small and insignificant as a falling leaf in the forest.
Now, as all you die hard fans (ha ha ha) know, this blog, at it's heart, is about BPD. I use the analogy of the Grizzly to act as a representation of the pure, blind rage a BPDer experiences. As the Grizzly, no one else matters. Okay, I take that back. They matter. Yes, they matter in the way that I would like to first trip them and then smack them full force in the forehead with a permanent brand that reads...well, various horrible descriptions. At the very least I would like to growl so forcefully that their hair blows backward as if in a cartoon. But wait, I'm missing something! What is it? GRR! I don't care! Me mad ! GRR! Damn! It's the Grizzly again. Okay, think... Alright, you get the point. The Grizzly is not reasonable. However, in therapy we learned about the "wise mind." We also learned that us BPDers tend to take things so personally, that we end up pushing everyone away and wind up alone. Okay, so I knew about that part. The question is, can the the Grizzly possess a wise mind? Yes, I know I just said the Grizzly is unreasonable but if given the right skills, can it be trained?. You know, like a lion. Or a man. Notice that I did not say change. Because you can't change any of those thing (especially the man). But I digress.
I do believe the Grizzly can be trained. Some days will always be worse than others. Some hunters only wound you while others feel like they're jabbing a knife into your heart. And sometimes the Grizzly will only roar while other days it will retreat to it's cave, kick the walls, and lick it's wound until it falls asleep. Metaphor aside, in a blind rage I am completely inconsolable. I have never had a physical response towards another person while in a rage. An unfortunately large number of people with BPD have, and still do. Another symptom, if you will, of my rage, is muddled thinking. I don't know what thoughts, feelings, or perceptions are real and what aren't. I know I don't always see things wrong, but what I don't know is when those times stop and the disorder starts. And if there is uncontrollable crying, believe me, I think I'm just as crazy as you do.
Training the Grizzly will be a lifelong pursuit. I won't lie, it is exhausting to think about. However, my bear free days outnumber the Grizzly days by a wide margin. It really gives new meaning to the phrase, "Don't Poke The Bear."
I seldom wake as the Grizzly. Normally, it is brought on by a hunter. Someone who willingly goes after the bear. There are many reasons they go hunting. Sometimes they are just out for a fight while other times they just need to give the bear some unfortunate bad news. Okay, so I'm being a little melodramatic with my metaphors here. The truth is, sometimes the reasons that the Grizzly shows up aren't so cut and dry. Sometimes, it can be as small and insignificant as a falling leaf in the forest.
Now, as all you die hard fans (ha ha ha) know, this blog, at it's heart, is about BPD. I use the analogy of the Grizzly to act as a representation of the pure, blind rage a BPDer experiences. As the Grizzly, no one else matters. Okay, I take that back. They matter. Yes, they matter in the way that I would like to first trip them and then smack them full force in the forehead with a permanent brand that reads...well, various horrible descriptions. At the very least I would like to growl so forcefully that their hair blows backward as if in a cartoon. But wait, I'm missing something! What is it? GRR! I don't care! Me mad ! GRR! Damn! It's the Grizzly again. Okay, think... Alright, you get the point. The Grizzly is not reasonable. However, in therapy we learned about the "wise mind." We also learned that us BPDers tend to take things so personally, that we end up pushing everyone away and wind up alone. Okay, so I knew about that part. The question is, can the the Grizzly possess a wise mind? Yes, I know I just said the Grizzly is unreasonable but if given the right skills, can it be trained?. You know, like a lion. Or a man. Notice that I did not say change. Because you can't change any of those thing (especially the man). But I digress.
I do believe the Grizzly can be trained. Some days will always be worse than others. Some hunters only wound you while others feel like they're jabbing a knife into your heart. And sometimes the Grizzly will only roar while other days it will retreat to it's cave, kick the walls, and lick it's wound until it falls asleep. Metaphor aside, in a blind rage I am completely inconsolable. I have never had a physical response towards another person while in a rage. An unfortunately large number of people with BPD have, and still do. Another symptom, if you will, of my rage, is muddled thinking. I don't know what thoughts, feelings, or perceptions are real and what aren't. I know I don't always see things wrong, but what I don't know is when those times stop and the disorder starts. And if there is uncontrollable crying, believe me, I think I'm just as crazy as you do.
Training the Grizzly will be a lifelong pursuit. I won't lie, it is exhausting to think about. However, my bear free days outnumber the Grizzly days by a wide margin. It really gives new meaning to the phrase, "Don't Poke The Bear."
Friday, November 19, 2010
Entry Eight. WARNING: May cause whiplash. Strap yourselves in tightly!
Okay, so I'm going to try and get back into this blogging thing. I warned you in entry two that I have a tendency to give up. But to be more accurate, I have the tendency to get sidetracked. That happens when you are a living, breathing emotional roller coaster. Now, I'm not talking about these "emotional roller coasters" people claim to be riding. I'm talking about being the roller coaster itself. And in case you don't see the difference, it means I don't have the luxury of leaving this crazy ride. But roller coasters do get turned off at night right? Well, for some lucky BPDers, this is true. I, unfortunately, am not so lucky. My sleep is always fraught with restlessness and violence. Not only have I ground my teeth since they came in but I will pull my hair out, scratch my head until I dig it open, scream, shake, thrash... Now, I've never seen the movie, The Exorcist, but it seems to me the kind of thing a possessed person might do. Or at the very least, scare the pee out of a unbeknownst roommate. No rest for the wicked right?
Now take a second and think about what might happen to a roller coaster that never gets a break. Scary, no? What about the maintenance?! I don't know about you but that upside down spinning loop is looking mighty unsteady to me! I wonder if that is where the term, "go flying off the handles" came from? Well, in the case of the roller coaster, rails. Oil and duck tape (pills and education), can only patch so much of the damage. Therefore, that leaves me only one answer. A firm, strong foundation. You see, a strong foundation can keep you running smooth through life's ups and downs, twists and turns, and even loopty loops. My family started the building blocks of my foundation at a very young age. Teaching me right from wrong. At eight years old God spoke to me and asked me to draw nearer to him. From there I began building my foundation on Him with Him. The Bible speaks to His foundation in many verses. Below are some of these.
Isaiah 28:16 Therefore thus saith the Lord GOD, Behold, I lay in Zion for a foundation a stone, a tried stone, a precious corner stone, a sure foundation: he that believeth shall not make haste.
1 Corinthians 3:11 For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ.
2 Timothy 2:19 Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are his. And, Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity.
Proverbs 10:25 As the whirlwind passeth, so is the wicked no more: but the righteous is an everlasting foundation.
1 Corinthians 10-13 (NIV) By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as an expert builder, and someone else is building on it. But each one should be careful how he builds. For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ. If any man builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, his work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each man’s work.
Truthfully, I know few verses from the Bible by heart. None of these are in that small number. I looked them up because I could never convey this foundation of which I am speaking of, better than the Bible itself. I am also not a person that quotes Bible verses. But sometimes the message is too important to leave to the ramblings of someone like me. I'm an emotional roller coaster and I have my weaknesses but none of those are in my foundation. Do I sometimes run off the rails? Can I be a bumpy ride? Do friends affectionately call me "The Whiplash" behind my back? Perhaps. But my foundation will never falter.
Now take a second and think about what might happen to a roller coaster that never gets a break. Scary, no? What about the maintenance?! I don't know about you but that upside down spinning loop is looking mighty unsteady to me! I wonder if that is where the term, "go flying off the handles" came from? Well, in the case of the roller coaster, rails. Oil and duck tape (pills and education), can only patch so much of the damage. Therefore, that leaves me only one answer. A firm, strong foundation. You see, a strong foundation can keep you running smooth through life's ups and downs, twists and turns, and even loopty loops. My family started the building blocks of my foundation at a very young age. Teaching me right from wrong. At eight years old God spoke to me and asked me to draw nearer to him. From there I began building my foundation on Him with Him. The Bible speaks to His foundation in many verses. Below are some of these.
Isaiah 28:16 Therefore thus saith the Lord GOD, Behold, I lay in Zion for a foundation a stone, a tried stone, a precious corner stone, a sure foundation: he that believeth shall not make haste.
1 Corinthians 3:11 For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ.
2 Timothy 2:19 Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are his. And, Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity.
Proverbs 10:25 As the whirlwind passeth, so is the wicked no more: but the righteous is an everlasting foundation.
1 Corinthians 10-13 (NIV) By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as an expert builder, and someone else is building on it. But each one should be careful how he builds. For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ. If any man builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, his work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each man’s work.
Truthfully, I know few verses from the Bible by heart. None of these are in that small number. I looked them up because I could never convey this foundation of which I am speaking of, better than the Bible itself. I am also not a person that quotes Bible verses. But sometimes the message is too important to leave to the ramblings of someone like me. I'm an emotional roller coaster and I have my weaknesses but none of those are in my foundation. Do I sometimes run off the rails? Can I be a bumpy ride? Do friends affectionately call me "The Whiplash" behind my back? Perhaps. But my foundation will never falter.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Entry Seven. Mother Nature and Father Time.
Okay, so I know it's been over two weeks since I've posted anything but in my defense, I've been reading. And reading is respectable right? For me, when I start a book everything else gets put on hold. And since I was reading a book series, it was an extra long hold. Anyway, in the last four days or so I've been thinking about children. Or rather, my lack there of. I just turned 35 and for the first time in 13 or so years, my menstrual cycle is normal. No longer are my eggs turning into lifeless cysts but into sources of life themselves. Consequently, a door that I considered closed a long time ago, has now cracked open.
Years ago when I was around the age of 15 or 16 I made the decision to never have children. At the time I only suffered from depression and panic attacks. But I just couldn't imagine having a child and passing on my genetically mutated soup mix. It seemed irresponsible and narcissistic. The world didn't need another screwed up me. When I stopped having a period around the age of 21 or 22 I thought maybe God was in agreement with my decision. At the time I had my first real boyfriend, we were in love, and we planned on getting married. I had never been with a man so I hadn't had to worry about getting pregnant. No period, no kids. Yet, from time to time it would bother me. Sometimes I felt like I really wanted to have my future husband's children. Sometimes I felt annoyed that the option was taken away from me regardless of my "no kids" decision. But as ridiculous as I knew it was, I let myself believe it was a part of God's plan.
That leads me to now. As Father Time has dragged me kicking and screaming into my mid thirties, Mother Nature has shown her sense of humor by flipping my on switch. I am NOT a happy camper. I can't help but think, "What are you thinking God?!" The husband is gone and I have no money for anything like IVF. Besides that, I still worry of passing on my genetic soup, especially when it has continued to mutate over the years. How can I consciously give a child BPD? Okay, so it isn't a forgone conclusion that the child would get BPD but the chance that they will be perfectly healthy is almost nil. It's not like I want to pass on depression or panic attacks either. But there is another school of thought that is playing a tune in my head. How much faith do I have in God? Do I believe God can do ALL things? Surely God can break this generational curse. But do I really believe that? Honestly, I think he can. But will he? Maybe it isn't his will to bless me with a healthy child. Don't look that way at me. Children with Down's, Autism, etc., are born everyday. Why? I don't know. But it scares me.
I guess the bottom line is that I don't have to worry about it right now. I may never have to worry about it. But one thing is certain. As Father Time shoves me up the age hill, I will eventually be thrown down the other side. And if I get my way, I'm taking Mother Nature with me. I think she owes me a few bumps and bruises.
Years ago when I was around the age of 15 or 16 I made the decision to never have children. At the time I only suffered from depression and panic attacks. But I just couldn't imagine having a child and passing on my genetically mutated soup mix. It seemed irresponsible and narcissistic. The world didn't need another screwed up me. When I stopped having a period around the age of 21 or 22 I thought maybe God was in agreement with my decision. At the time I had my first real boyfriend, we were in love, and we planned on getting married. I had never been with a man so I hadn't had to worry about getting pregnant. No period, no kids. Yet, from time to time it would bother me. Sometimes I felt like I really wanted to have my future husband's children. Sometimes I felt annoyed that the option was taken away from me regardless of my "no kids" decision. But as ridiculous as I knew it was, I let myself believe it was a part of God's plan.
That leads me to now. As Father Time has dragged me kicking and screaming into my mid thirties, Mother Nature has shown her sense of humor by flipping my on switch. I am NOT a happy camper. I can't help but think, "What are you thinking God?!" The husband is gone and I have no money for anything like IVF. Besides that, I still worry of passing on my genetic soup, especially when it has continued to mutate over the years. How can I consciously give a child BPD? Okay, so it isn't a forgone conclusion that the child would get BPD but the chance that they will be perfectly healthy is almost nil. It's not like I want to pass on depression or panic attacks either. But there is another school of thought that is playing a tune in my head. How much faith do I have in God? Do I believe God can do ALL things? Surely God can break this generational curse. But do I really believe that? Honestly, I think he can. But will he? Maybe it isn't his will to bless me with a healthy child. Don't look that way at me. Children with Down's, Autism, etc., are born everyday. Why? I don't know. But it scares me.
I guess the bottom line is that I don't have to worry about it right now. I may never have to worry about it. But one thing is certain. As Father Time shoves me up the age hill, I will eventually be thrown down the other side. And if I get my way, I'm taking Mother Nature with me. I think she owes me a few bumps and bruises.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Entry Six. Darn it, I'm a princess!
When women are little girls they are often called princesses. They like to dress up and pretend they are these, said, princesses. Inevitably though, someone pulls the rug out from under them and they are thrown into the real world. For some, they find their footing easily. For others, their life might as well be like a sock in a dryer. Spinning in a chaotic "hot mess." Sometimes, they even get completely lost. Eaten by the machine, or rather, society. I am, without a doubt, the "hot mess." However, I have been nearly lost a number of times.
Now, you may think it silly, but I still see myself as a princess. Unfortunately, the princess is Cinderella without the hopes of a fairy godmother, much less, a prince. I did kiss a toad once. The only thing it turned into was toadskin baggage. And I mean, A LOT of baggage. I tried carrying it again and again but each time it threw me down leaving bruises and scars that may never heal. Eventually, the price for carrying that kind of baggage became too high. So here I sit, Cinderella, darning my "hot mess" socks. Playing the role of evil stepmother and stepsisters are BPD, depression, and panic attacks. Like Cinderella, I have been obeying their orders for years with no way out. Unlike Cinderella, I won't be waiting on that fairy godmother or the prince. It may take time to learn to darn my socks well, but I'm making an effort. I'm even taking lessons.
So I know you're wondering how this Cinderella will turn into a princess without a fairy godmother or a prince. The answer is, I won't. But I can have the courage of one. In the movie, "The Princess Diaries," Mia finds a letter in whch her father passes on a piece of wisdom. He states, that "courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all." In life, you will always "be traveling the road between who you think you are, and who you can be. The key is to allow yourself to make the journey." So I may make this "hot mess" journey with fear; but more importantly, I will also be making it with courage. After all, I may only be darning now, but once I'm done, I will find my own footing (in warm socks). I may even turn out to be a true princess, albeit only on the inside.
So ask yourself, who do you think you are. Then ask yourself who you could be. It may be a long road to figuring it out, but isn't it worth the journey?
Now, you may think it silly, but I still see myself as a princess. Unfortunately, the princess is Cinderella without the hopes of a fairy godmother, much less, a prince. I did kiss a toad once. The only thing it turned into was toadskin baggage. And I mean, A LOT of baggage. I tried carrying it again and again but each time it threw me down leaving bruises and scars that may never heal. Eventually, the price for carrying that kind of baggage became too high. So here I sit, Cinderella, darning my "hot mess" socks. Playing the role of evil stepmother and stepsisters are BPD, depression, and panic attacks. Like Cinderella, I have been obeying their orders for years with no way out. Unlike Cinderella, I won't be waiting on that fairy godmother or the prince. It may take time to learn to darn my socks well, but I'm making an effort. I'm even taking lessons.
So I know you're wondering how this Cinderella will turn into a princess without a fairy godmother or a prince. The answer is, I won't. But I can have the courage of one. In the movie, "The Princess Diaries," Mia finds a letter in whch her father passes on a piece of wisdom. He states, that "courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all." In life, you will always "be traveling the road between who you think you are, and who you can be. The key is to allow yourself to make the journey." So I may make this "hot mess" journey with fear; but more importantly, I will also be making it with courage. After all, I may only be darning now, but once I'm done, I will find my own footing (in warm socks). I may even turn out to be a true princess, albeit only on the inside.
So ask yourself, who do you think you are. Then ask yourself who you could be. It may be a long road to figuring it out, but isn't it worth the journey?
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Entry Five. Feelin' Lucky?
If you've been reading this blog I bet you wouldn't consider me lucky. I also bet you wouldn't think that I, myself, consider me lucky. Would you believe I do? Every honorable person at one time or another thinks, "I shouldn't complain so much really. There are people out there fighting cancer, starving, homeless..." I, too, have tried to discipline my whiny, complaining ways with these thoughts. But when I say I'm lucky I don't mean it in this way. I'm actually talking about my panic disorder, depression, and BPD. Mind you, I don't want these things, but I wouldn't be who I am today if I had not inherited these diseases. And yes, I did inherit them. The furthest I have been able to trace them back is to my maternal great great grandfather. He gave it to my great grandmother and all the women since have had varying degrees of issues. Still, I am lucky.
I may have BPD. I may have bad moments. But 95% of the time I'm okay. I'm "normal." Yes, I do have to be mindful every second of every moment I'm awake. I continuously take in information throughout the day and react to it just like everyone else. The difference is, I have to send it through a number of "mindful filters" before I react. I have to make sure I have correctly assessed the information and then I can respond. Even then, I don't always get it right.
Sounds exhausting right? It is. More than I could ever try and explain. But let me tell you why I'm lucky. With this blog I'm attempting to show the nature of BPD. I have only met a few other people with this disease but approximately 1.6 Americans age 18 and over have it. And those are just the known cases. It should be of no surprise that those numbers are continuing to rise. Most people who have BPD don't or won't have the control that I have. I don't say that out of superiority. I say that because I've been lucky. I've had 25 years of therapy and experience along with a collegiate education in psychology. I can't imagine the fear and confusion people out there with BPD are experiencing. It makes me weep. The extreme feelings are so horrible. And everything in your life is going wrong and you don't know why. You can't keep a job, all your relationships are a mess, the anger makes you someone you don't know at all, and you're so tired. Unfortunately, no amount of sleep will wake you from this nightmare. You just want to end it all and many do.
I could be one of those people. On the other hand, I could have never had any of these problems and be quite the wanker today. I've seen video evidence from college that leads me to this possible conclusion. These diseases put many restrictions on me beginning at age 10. Without them, I think the words conceited, selfish, and indifferent may have been used to describe me. Maybe not. Regardless, I don't think church and God would have been the center of my life.
Some people believe that if I were a true christian and really believed in God I would ask him to heal me and by faith it would happen. After all, God did not give me the disease, it came from the Devil. That is true, but even Paul had a "thorn in his side" that Jesus declined to heal. The Bible never says what it was. Some say it was physical. Others say different. I've heard people state that they believe it was something to keep him humble so he could continue to do God's work. The thing is, I have prayed. I have asked God. And I believe he can do it. But I also believe that sometimes he says no or not now. We may not understand it but we have to accept that he knows what is best for us.
So maybe I'm not lucky. Maybe, more correctly, I would say I'm blessed. It isn't what I would have chosen for myself but I can choose how I handle it. How I let it effect my life and my relationship with God. As I said before, not all days are good days. Some days I can't see the blessing through the disease. But it is always there.
I may have BPD. I may have bad moments. But 95% of the time I'm okay. I'm "normal." Yes, I do have to be mindful every second of every moment I'm awake. I continuously take in information throughout the day and react to it just like everyone else. The difference is, I have to send it through a number of "mindful filters" before I react. I have to make sure I have correctly assessed the information and then I can respond. Even then, I don't always get it right.
Sounds exhausting right? It is. More than I could ever try and explain. But let me tell you why I'm lucky. With this blog I'm attempting to show the nature of BPD. I have only met a few other people with this disease but approximately 1.6 Americans age 18 and over have it. And those are just the known cases. It should be of no surprise that those numbers are continuing to rise. Most people who have BPD don't or won't have the control that I have. I don't say that out of superiority. I say that because I've been lucky. I've had 25 years of therapy and experience along with a collegiate education in psychology. I can't imagine the fear and confusion people out there with BPD are experiencing. It makes me weep. The extreme feelings are so horrible. And everything in your life is going wrong and you don't know why. You can't keep a job, all your relationships are a mess, the anger makes you someone you don't know at all, and you're so tired. Unfortunately, no amount of sleep will wake you from this nightmare. You just want to end it all and many do.
I could be one of those people. On the other hand, I could have never had any of these problems and be quite the wanker today. I've seen video evidence from college that leads me to this possible conclusion. These diseases put many restrictions on me beginning at age 10. Without them, I think the words conceited, selfish, and indifferent may have been used to describe me. Maybe not. Regardless, I don't think church and God would have been the center of my life.
Some people believe that if I were a true christian and really believed in God I would ask him to heal me and by faith it would happen. After all, God did not give me the disease, it came from the Devil. That is true, but even Paul had a "thorn in his side" that Jesus declined to heal. The Bible never says what it was. Some say it was physical. Others say different. I've heard people state that they believe it was something to keep him humble so he could continue to do God's work. The thing is, I have prayed. I have asked God. And I believe he can do it. But I also believe that sometimes he says no or not now. We may not understand it but we have to accept that he knows what is best for us.
So maybe I'm not lucky. Maybe, more correctly, I would say I'm blessed. It isn't what I would have chosen for myself but I can choose how I handle it. How I let it effect my life and my relationship with God. As I said before, not all days are good days. Some days I can't see the blessing through the disease. But it is always there.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Day Four. Listen, I'm a Dreamgirl.
I love the show Glee. I tape it every week and decided to watch last night's episode again. Midway through there was a song that really spoke to me. It is called "Listen" from Dreamgirls. I have always sang. I took private lessons outside of school, took lessons in college, and even took private lessons in my adult life. As a teenger, being in the church youth choir was heaven to me. I never had dreams of becoming famous. I wouldn't be able to handle it and besides, I'm quite shy in front of other people. But I always thought singing a couple of sets at a piano bar in the evenings would be cool.
There are very few things that can break through to someone with BPD when it is out of control. The same goes for depression, panic attacks, and the like. I learned at a very young age that music was a source of strength for me. I could express myself. I could release the negative energy in a positive way. Belt out the pain. When I couldn't get out of my head and understand what was going inside of me, music made a way. As songs melted through all the chaos one would grab me and become a voice to my madness.
Now back to Glee, in the song "Listen" the singer is telling another person that she is more than what they pegged her to be. She doesn't fit into the small box they put her in anymore. She has finally found herself and is expanding her world to have no boundaries. But I see that song as an anthem I would sing to my BPD and it's creator who comes to steal, kill, and in my case, destroy. That I am more than this disease I have been cursed with. It doesn't define me. It may have quieted my voice with it's own but my voice is growing stronger. It may be a slow progression but I can already hear a hum. Eventually the day will come when my voice will burst out in a song all it's own and the elephant will cease to trumpet ever again. It will listen to ME.
I may have given up on all my dreams a long time ago. But now, I'm a dreamgirl again.
There are very few things that can break through to someone with BPD when it is out of control. The same goes for depression, panic attacks, and the like. I learned at a very young age that music was a source of strength for me. I could express myself. I could release the negative energy in a positive way. Belt out the pain. When I couldn't get out of my head and understand what was going inside of me, music made a way. As songs melted through all the chaos one would grab me and become a voice to my madness.
Now back to Glee, in the song "Listen" the singer is telling another person that she is more than what they pegged her to be. She doesn't fit into the small box they put her in anymore. She has finally found herself and is expanding her world to have no boundaries. But I see that song as an anthem I would sing to my BPD and it's creator who comes to steal, kill, and in my case, destroy. That I am more than this disease I have been cursed with. It doesn't define me. It may have quieted my voice with it's own but my voice is growing stronger. It may be a slow progression but I can already hear a hum. Eventually the day will come when my voice will burst out in a song all it's own and the elephant will cease to trumpet ever again. It will listen to ME.
I may have given up on all my dreams a long time ago. But now, I'm a dreamgirl again.
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