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.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
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.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
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?
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?
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
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!
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!
Monday, September 20, 2010
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.
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.
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