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."

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. 

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.

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?

    

  

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.

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.

Day Three. Becoming the Captain of my Voyage.

     There are an infinite number of things we experience in a day that can lead to an a-ha moment. Sometimes they are big and change us dramatically. Sometimes they are small and just change our perspective on a specific situation. Today I experienced a small one. As a huge fan of Star Trek I was watching an episode of Voyager that I had taped. In the episode the captain is involved in an accident and dies. An alien, taking the form of her dead father in order to deceive her, comes to take her into the" afterlife". Not being ready to go she stays for her funeral and decides she will not move on but stay with the crew and the ship. In response the alien says to her, "It's a horrible existence Catherine. As time wears on, you begin to see how potent, how destructive, loneliness is. You'll see the people you love going on with their lives. Doing all the things you used to share with them, but you won't be a part of it anymore. You'll be forever shut out of their existence. It becomes agonizing." Now I know this was about death. And I know we aren't really shut out of people's existence unless we or they make that decision. But I could relate to the words.
     When I left Emmanuel I was distraught. I missed my girlfriends who hadn't come back and I missed my boyfriend at home. I didn't want to, and couldn't be, at college without my girls. Yes, I had my guy friends but they couldn't take the place of my girls. I was so lonely. Emotionally exhausted I called up my mom and said I needed to come home. I figured my best friend was there along with my boyfriend and things would get better. They didn't. I lost all focus. I was so consumed with missing all my friends from college. It was the one place in life that I had ever been happy. A year later my boyfriend and I broke up. I thought we'd be together forever. Then my best friend got married and started popping out little ones. It went this way with everyone. Moving on, growing apart.  And all I felt was forgotten and left behind. Discarded as a memory. Everyone was going forward in their lives and I didn't want to. I couldn't. Eventually, I became crushed with the pain and cut off all ties. Again, I thought that by doing this it would make things better. And again, it didn't. It took about eight to ten years but in the last two I have made some progress.
     As I sit here writing this I realize that I had contracted BPD by then, making it impossible to process all the changes and losses. It makes me weep. So that brings up the question of whether a "normal" person would be weeping or if my BPD is exacerbating my sadness. Hell if I know. It's so complicated.
     I'm trying to remember exactly when the blind men with their dodge balls showed up. I spent a week in the psych ward at a local hospital in 96. My depression had gotten out of control. That was the first time I was diagnosed with BPD. I ignored it. Or rather, I was so caught up in my explosive emotional mind that it got lost in there somewhere. I was recently reminded, to my mortification, of a beach trip in 95 where let's say, a very unfriendly and apparently strong , um, presence took over my being. I remember very little and would rather forget it ever happened but it now raises the question of whether that was related to the BPD. I feel all illnesses are from the Enemy and can emerge in many different ways. Was that the physical manifestation? I don't know.
     So what does this have to do with the Star Trek quote? Well, I have faced and continue to face that potent, destructive, and agonizing loneliness. I get paralyzed with it and the fear comes and then I just want to give up because the emotions are so overwhelming. But when the captain was faced with that reality she persevered. She didn't give up. She didn't turn her back on her loved ones and run away. She said her friends may move on and she may not be a part of that but she can be happy for them and enjoy their achievements from afar. She wasn't just the captain of Voyager anymore. She was the captain of her own personal voyage into the new unknown. I want to be the captain of my voyage. The elephant has been at the helm for far too long and I need to refresh my navigational skills. Besides, my feet aren't nearly as big as an elephants' and therefore they shall have less of a dreadful stench.
  By the way, the captain was really having a near death experience and comes to the realization that the alien created the hallucinations in hopes of making her give up her life and nourish him with it. It occurs to me the irony of that ending. Because isn't that just what the Enemy wants at our end?

Day two. Visions of sugar plums dancing in my head?

     Today is my second day of blogging. So far, so good. I haven't given up yet. Which I have the tendency to do. Today I got out of the house. This is not a common occurence. I don't have a job so I don't have any motivation to leave the house. I'd rather not anyway. At some point the mob came in, set me in cement shoes, and then went for spagetti. They haven't been back and the energy it takes to drag myself somewhere just doesn't seem worth it. But I had group for the first time today. It started last week but my therapist failed to tell me. It was two hours of boredom and aggravation. Now I realize that because I have a Psychology degree myself and 25 years of therapy I know more than most. Therefore, I'm going to have heard or studied a great deal of things that will be discussed. Ergo, the boredom.
     As I have said, I know a lot about this psychology stuff. But I'm not going to take over the class. Even if the therapists are a bore and the Bristish one doesn't even know what dodgeball is. But Jocelyn, a fellow classmate, apparently thinks she is an expert having already gone through the process once.  I found her interruptions and "sage thoughts" a pain in the ass. Ironically, they kept telling us to be nonjudgemental. That even telling someone they are pretty is a judgement. Yeah, I'm questioning this therapy thing also. But there I sat thinking, "Shut up you know-it-all, attention needy, rude, and inappropriate headache of a woman!" Then I remembered sugar plums. When we get upset we are suppose to use mindful thinking and exercises. One such exercise is to go somewhere else in your head. I love Georgia so I went there. Again and again and, well, you get the point. Luckily, the sugar plums clogged the filter and nothing BPD induced passed my lips or took control of my car in the parking lot.  Unfortunately I wasn't entirely successful in "blowing it off." We BPDers can't do that. I'm sure there was a healthy alternative to how I self-soothed (that's what they call it) myself but I went for retail therapy. Or grocery therapy as it turned out. Ninety one dollars is a lot to spend on very little food. Wow, I just realized I made another therapy blunder. I bought food and did not "mindfully eat" it. As in, concoct a healthy, well portioned dinner. At this point I would be called out on being judgemental about myself. Is this making sense to anyone else?
     On a positive note I did get one good thing done today. I went to VWCC and requested my transcripts for when I go back to school. One college down, two more to go. I have my individual therapy on Thursday so hopefully afterwards I can pick up some meds and either get some of my taxes done or renew my license. Goals are good. And I should have ample time to practice "mindfulness" at the DMV and/or IRS. Here's to visions of sugar plums on Thursday!

In The Beginning...

     I have decided to start a blog in order to give the "public" an inside view of life through my eyes. Or maybe I should say emotions. You see, I have Borderline Personality Disorder. Sounds scary right? Well, in a nutshell it means my emotions can get overly exaggerated. Where one person may feel sad, I can feel suicidal. Where one person is happy, I can seem to be on uppers. Where one person is mad, well, I can punch my hand through a cement wall. Okay, maybe not. But I would break my hand trying. Not to say I have ever tried that, I haven't. I'm just trying to get my point across. And because that isn't enough, I've suffered from panic attacks and depression since the age of 10. Those aren't my only problems but they are the ones that control most of my life.
     This blog will be a current blog but who we are is comprised by both our past and present. I'm sure most people begin a blog at the beginning of something in their life. Marriage, divorce, new job, move, pregnancy, etc.,. I can honestly say I am at the beginning of nothing. I'm in a lull and have been in a lull for almost a year. Not that life was all that interesting before but it did consist of more than food, television, food, and sleep (probably dreaming of food). Do you believe that? You shouldn't. Remember that first paragraph? Yeah, I may physically be doing nothing but in my head the synapses are on the fritz. Have you ever seen those drawings of nodes with little round balls drawn between them signifying communication between the brain synapses? Those balls are neurotransmitters. It should be a game of putt-putt. Easy holes in one. Instead it's more like a game of dodgeball between the blind. I always hated dodgeball.
     So there is my "scientific" explanation of the events in my head. If it's hard to imagine despair not! I am a walking example. Or sitting, which is more likely. Now to be honest, I don't mind the the happy part. Who wouldn't want to be extra happy? No one right? Especially when the lows are epic and a lot more frequent. So what's the catch? It's exactly that. My filter catches less than it should. I tend to have a looser tongue and lower inhibitions. Now don't get me wrong. I don't lose my christianity. That's diamond cut on my soul. I remember my morals. But everything else is fair game. I've been told that isn't a good thing because when it goes away I get the epic low which can be dangerous. I understand the logic but I respectively disagree. Or at least I'm being stubborn about it. I love feeling that free because usually I feel like I'm being swallowed by quicksand.
     So let's talk about today. Or yesterday since it is after midnight. Today was a day of avoidance. As in, what can I do to take my mind off how lonely I am? Family is in Hawaii though I am more relaxed when they are gone. They drive me crazy. No phone calls. No messages on FB which is my lifeline to the outside world. People I know are having birthdays everyday and I envy the love and attention they are undoubtedly getting. My birthday in less than a week away. And what will I be doing? The same thing I did today. Sitting on the couch watching TV. Family will still be in Hawaii and I wonder if they will remember. I haven't decided whether I want them to or not. It will be a knife to the heart if they don't but then again, I sure would have something to hold over their head.  I know that isn't healthy thinking. Wanting someone to feel bad is awful. But I admit it for all to see. Or no one which is more likely.
     So I know you've been wondering what the elephant in the room is. Why is that the title of my blog? It's simple really. The elephant in the room is this other me. The one blindly playing dodgeball. Everyone feels it but no one says anything. And for those who know, maybe it's my imagination, but I swear they scope out all possible exits in case there is a elephant stampede. Maybe one day the elephant can be tamed but for now, I'll just have to take it one day at a time.