May is Mental Health awareness month...
To show your support for those of us who live with Borderline Personality Disorder please wear purple tomorrow.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
April 30 ~ 1
It has been a week since my fingers last tapped away here, in this place where I have opened myself up in the most vulnerable, intimate manner in order to give you a glimpse into "my world". The world of struggling day to day with mental illness. I have been so afraid of exposing my vulnerabilities here because over the course of the last couple weeks I have been burned far too often because of trusting those in my circle of support with the most intimate details of my life and with allowing them to be present with me during the most challenging and vulnerable experiences.
My heart is breaking as I struggle to bring light into this world of mine. I busy myself with "mindless tasks" like playing word games on the computer or rearranging things around the house. Keeping myself as busy as possible so that I don't have to think or feel...because the pain is so unbearable, it is as close to a living hell as you could imagine experiencing. I turn on my music, I shower, clean the house, open windows, let the sunshine shine in and permeate the darkness of my world...all in hopes of somehow fighting this incredible darkness that is so hard to bear with support, let alone in a place of feeling abandoned by those you thought were your greatest sources of support.
The tears pour as I write, I struggle to breathe as gut wrenching sobs overcome my body, the fear makes my heart race and my limbs are weak, devoid of the strength I need to carry myself. Last Friday I believed it couldn't possibly get worse than the emotions I was feeling and that it couldn't get darker than that darkness that overcame me...I was wrong.... This "I have to live this way because too many people depend on me" hell is by far worse...because I am facing it without my rocks...for they have turned to dust.
Abandonment...the greatest fear for those of us who struggle with Borderline Personality Disorder. It is by far one of the stronger characteristics of this disease that we are inflicted with. And then trust...when you fear abandonment trusting is a hard thing to do. I trusted...I had faith...I believed...and I was wrong. I shouldn't have done so. I said to my psychiatrist and my family doctor that I trust too much or too little. If only trust wasn't the heart of my relationships. It is so vital for me that it truly is the heart, that which keeps relationship alive in my world...and without trust it is like trying to live without a heart ~ you won't survive for long.
My family doctor said he thought I was crazy for starting this blog. He believed I was opening myself up to being hurt and judged. I believed differently...until now. Perhaps I was wrong. I started this blog to give you all a window into my world, to hopefully give you perspective and help you understand what it means to live day to day with an illness that completely controls you and takes over all aspects of your life. An illness that is so incredibly debilitating at times, that is so hard to treat and that can create such devastation for the one who suffers and those who surround that person.
I have lived alone with this illness for far too long. I have felt misunderstood all my life. I have tried to mask and cover up this terrifying illness so that I could look less like the monster I feel I am inside. The years of suffering alone have left me weak and weary. I got to the place where I was no longer strong enough to fight alone...and so I slowly and gradually welcomed people into "my world" into seeing who I really am...the complete picture of Angela.
Opening myself up was absolutely terrifying for I feared that I would scare people away, that they wouldn't like or respect me anymore and that they would be repulsed by me and by my emotions, thoughts and actions...that the illness would create not only an internal living hell but an external living hell. And as the masks started to be put away and the protective barriers started to crumble I began to feel a brief sense of renewed strength...for I knew I was not alone in this journey, that I would be supported and carried when I couldn't do it on my own. And that yes, despite my illness and the ugliness that it brings into my life, that people could see deep inside of me the inner beauty that wanted to radiate.
I believed that for quite some time as I felt love come into my life in many forms. I was less afraid and willing to take some major steps. I was willing to face this demon that has stripped my life away piece by piece for nearly my entire lifetime...I was willing to stand up to it and say "you will not take my life from me...I choose life...I choose health...and I deserve to be loved, supported, safe, secure and happy". I will not let you take me as a victim anymore.
So with the support of those I trusted most intimately I began to face hurdle after hurdle of searching out the means to fight this illness...this demon. I began to take positive steps, BIG steps, frightening steps and very vulnerable steps towards finding that which I deserved...a healthier life. I began going to appointment after appointment, I read, researched, talked, shared, took meds, listened to others, sought out support and I completely opened myself up to feeling as I had never allowed myself to do and to facing some of my deepest fears and vulnerabilities.
As I became more vulnerable, the fear became more intense. And in contrast to what felt like HUGE steps on my part those around me kept expecting more. They wanted that "quick fix'...the magic pill...the magic wand...that would make me "snap out of it". They became less and less interested in understanding and more and more consumed with "why isn't this working...why aren't you doing more...why can't you". The negatives were firing at rapid speed from the mouths of others while the positives were left unsaid in the dust from the damage the negatives were doing to my spirit, my being. And soon I became harder and harder to support. I felt it all slipping away...I felt everyone's frustration and impatience...I felt the focus shift from what I was doing to what I wasn't doing...in the minds of others and then ultimately in the mind of myself. My support system was crumbling...and the more desperately I reached out to try and piece it back together, the heavier the pieces became, until I couldn't do it anymore. I want to be alone I said...why...because I truly want to be alone? No, if you understood my illness you would know that isn't what I wanted or needed...I spoke what I wanted or needed but the words were only whispers caught up in the commotion of everything else...and all people heard was she wants to be alone. I wanted to feel safe, secure, understood, supported and I wanted to know that I could count on the heart to keep beating ~ the trust to remain...I wanted to know that I could expose my vulnerabilities in my time when I felt safe to do so. I wanted my story to go at my pace; I wanted the "expectations" to be replaced by the acknowledgment of the steps that were taken. I wanted to be recognized for the steps toward healing I was taking, I wanted to be trusted and have others trust the professionals to give me the "you need to, we should work on, if you woulds..." and have those who committed to supporting me do just that, support me.
What I needed from my sources of support were some vital ingredients that didn't feel like they were being met as people became more consumed with the illness and its affects and less consumed with Angela as a real person, not just an illness. I needed people to not tell my story and let me share in my time with whom I feel safe to do so... to not judge, to listen instead...to not expect perfection, instead recognize steps taken...to understand and ask supportive questions when they didn't...to support myself and those around me without making me feel like I was less than or a failure because I was hurting those around me...to recognize that the illness is what hurts those around me, not Angela...the illness controls me, I don't control it.
The "heart" left many of my relationships over the course of the last several weeks. And as hard as I tried to fight to keep it going, I just couldn't. The illness, the demon, was taking victims at rapid speed. And as the illness victimized those around me the darker my world became...until hope was lost.
I don't know if I will ever get better...will I get healthier, I hope so...will I hopefully have more lighter days than darker days, I hope so...will I hopefully bring more joy than sorrow into the lives of others, I hope so...will I feel more in control and less controlled by this illness, I hope so... We don't know. There are no guarantees. The best that we can hope for is to try...to take advantage of all support offered, to follow steps recommended based on pathways that have been "blazed" by others, to take the medications that will hopefully provide more rest and balance, to listen and openly share in the most intimate and vulnerable ways in hopes that an answer can be found somewhere in amongst the piles.
Monday I had the first visit with a psychiatrist that will be treating me for the next two months. I can't tell you in words alone how terrifying it is for me to know that she is only here for two months and after that she will move on, and yes, I fear that I will feel abandoned as a result. To know that I have to openly trust, share and have faith in her yet she is going to leave sooner rather than later. That is definitely challenging for me. But despite that I sat down and poured out the terrifying details of the spiraling pit of darkness that this illness has created in my life lately. Right down to the details you really don't want to speak, but know you have to. She recognized the many double-edged swords for me. Especially the one where I am so aware, which she says is a huge blessing for me because many people take months or years of therapy to get to the awareness point I am at, but that the awareness is also a curse because as aware as I am I still can't just fix it. I can't "snap out of it", "release it" like many want me to be able to do, like I wish I could. It just isn't possible because "it" is a part of my illness. I have wondered myself and have been encouraged to by others to pursue "getting away for a bit", basically checking into the hospital. After sharing with my psychiatrist the intimate details of how close I have been to death's door I asked her what she thought about hospitalization with regards to me. I was surprised by her answer, because so many are convinced it is the "best answer" for me right now; she said that she thinks it would do more harm than good at this point for me. That because I have so much support in place that it is best for me to remain at home...that the hospital is an awful place to be (which I already knew). Sure, there are days where I'd like to escape all this...but not the physical stuff, the day to day routine instead I want to "escape" the emotional side of all this and unfortunately that will never go away it will always be with me and without the day to day routine it is even more prevalent. So yes, despite feeling suffocated by emotions and wanting an escape, I too agree that the hospital is likely not the answer at this point.
So here I sit...feeling abandoned by those I needed most. Left in this dark pit of living hell where those who still brave the world of Angela are carrying heavier loads as they try and keep me afloat. As I try and "kick in" my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and the manic side of my Bipolar Disorder in order to somehow make it through the day and not let the Depression side of the Bipolar and Borderline Personality Disorder take over my being, and not let the fears from the Borderline Personality Disorder consume me and not let the severely debilitating anxiety from the Anxiety Disorder prevent me from coping. Yes, I am grasping at light within this living hell of my world crumbling around me...and somehow we are making it at least until the physical darkness of night comes or until I stop and think and feel...ugh...gotta avoid that at all costs right now. Just keep moving...keep doing....keep being "supermom" even if I stumble and get my cape dirty.
So yes, as my psychiatrist said...we will take this very slowly. Change will not happen over night and it will be a lot of work. And for those who are willing to understand and support me, I am thankful because they make it a little less frightening and a little more manageable. For those who have chosen to walk away, I am sad...and confused...and really hurt...sad that you couldn't hear me, sad that you couldn't understand, confused that what I had with you all wasn't what I thought it was, and hurt that you gave up...and in essence when I needed you most, when I needed light most I ended up feeling my greatest fear ~ abandonment.
This is an illness...I can't just "snap out of it"...can't change overnight...and can't change the way the illness makes me think and feel...I can try to get help...I can try and do this challenging work of changing some of my actions...and I can take it one step at a time...this will be a daily battle for me for the rest of my life. I will fight the demon that this illness is for every moment of my life, with every breath I take. And some days I'll win, other days the illness may be stronger...hopefully one day I'll win more than not. But until then it is one small step at a time. Just as you wouldn't say to a diabetic "eat this cake and don't have a reaction", you can't say to me "don't think that, don't feel that, it isn't that way ~ you see it wrong"...because what I see, think and feel and A LOT of what I do is controlled by the illness. One day maybe I'll be strong enough to occasionally control the illness instead of it controlling me...but until then I'll have to take it one step at a time as I search for more clarity, understanding and tools.
My heart is breaking as I struggle to bring light into this world of mine. I busy myself with "mindless tasks" like playing word games on the computer or rearranging things around the house. Keeping myself as busy as possible so that I don't have to think or feel...because the pain is so unbearable, it is as close to a living hell as you could imagine experiencing. I turn on my music, I shower, clean the house, open windows, let the sunshine shine in and permeate the darkness of my world...all in hopes of somehow fighting this incredible darkness that is so hard to bear with support, let alone in a place of feeling abandoned by those you thought were your greatest sources of support.
The tears pour as I write, I struggle to breathe as gut wrenching sobs overcome my body, the fear makes my heart race and my limbs are weak, devoid of the strength I need to carry myself. Last Friday I believed it couldn't possibly get worse than the emotions I was feeling and that it couldn't get darker than that darkness that overcame me...I was wrong.... This "I have to live this way because too many people depend on me" hell is by far worse...because I am facing it without my rocks...for they have turned to dust.
Abandonment...the greatest fear for those of us who struggle with Borderline Personality Disorder. It is by far one of the stronger characteristics of this disease that we are inflicted with. And then trust...when you fear abandonment trusting is a hard thing to do. I trusted...I had faith...I believed...and I was wrong. I shouldn't have done so. I said to my psychiatrist and my family doctor that I trust too much or too little. If only trust wasn't the heart of my relationships. It is so vital for me that it truly is the heart, that which keeps relationship alive in my world...and without trust it is like trying to live without a heart ~ you won't survive for long.
My family doctor said he thought I was crazy for starting this blog. He believed I was opening myself up to being hurt and judged. I believed differently...until now. Perhaps I was wrong. I started this blog to give you all a window into my world, to hopefully give you perspective and help you understand what it means to live day to day with an illness that completely controls you and takes over all aspects of your life. An illness that is so incredibly debilitating at times, that is so hard to treat and that can create such devastation for the one who suffers and those who surround that person.
I have lived alone with this illness for far too long. I have felt misunderstood all my life. I have tried to mask and cover up this terrifying illness so that I could look less like the monster I feel I am inside. The years of suffering alone have left me weak and weary. I got to the place where I was no longer strong enough to fight alone...and so I slowly and gradually welcomed people into "my world" into seeing who I really am...the complete picture of Angela.
Opening myself up was absolutely terrifying for I feared that I would scare people away, that they wouldn't like or respect me anymore and that they would be repulsed by me and by my emotions, thoughts and actions...that the illness would create not only an internal living hell but an external living hell. And as the masks started to be put away and the protective barriers started to crumble I began to feel a brief sense of renewed strength...for I knew I was not alone in this journey, that I would be supported and carried when I couldn't do it on my own. And that yes, despite my illness and the ugliness that it brings into my life, that people could see deep inside of me the inner beauty that wanted to radiate.
I believed that for quite some time as I felt love come into my life in many forms. I was less afraid and willing to take some major steps. I was willing to face this demon that has stripped my life away piece by piece for nearly my entire lifetime...I was willing to stand up to it and say "you will not take my life from me...I choose life...I choose health...and I deserve to be loved, supported, safe, secure and happy". I will not let you take me as a victim anymore.
So with the support of those I trusted most intimately I began to face hurdle after hurdle of searching out the means to fight this illness...this demon. I began to take positive steps, BIG steps, frightening steps and very vulnerable steps towards finding that which I deserved...a healthier life. I began going to appointment after appointment, I read, researched, talked, shared, took meds, listened to others, sought out support and I completely opened myself up to feeling as I had never allowed myself to do and to facing some of my deepest fears and vulnerabilities.
As I became more vulnerable, the fear became more intense. And in contrast to what felt like HUGE steps on my part those around me kept expecting more. They wanted that "quick fix'...the magic pill...the magic wand...that would make me "snap out of it". They became less and less interested in understanding and more and more consumed with "why isn't this working...why aren't you doing more...why can't you". The negatives were firing at rapid speed from the mouths of others while the positives were left unsaid in the dust from the damage the negatives were doing to my spirit, my being. And soon I became harder and harder to support. I felt it all slipping away...I felt everyone's frustration and impatience...I felt the focus shift from what I was doing to what I wasn't doing...in the minds of others and then ultimately in the mind of myself. My support system was crumbling...and the more desperately I reached out to try and piece it back together, the heavier the pieces became, until I couldn't do it anymore. I want to be alone I said...why...because I truly want to be alone? No, if you understood my illness you would know that isn't what I wanted or needed...I spoke what I wanted or needed but the words were only whispers caught up in the commotion of everything else...and all people heard was she wants to be alone. I wanted to feel safe, secure, understood, supported and I wanted to know that I could count on the heart to keep beating ~ the trust to remain...I wanted to know that I could expose my vulnerabilities in my time when I felt safe to do so. I wanted my story to go at my pace; I wanted the "expectations" to be replaced by the acknowledgment of the steps that were taken. I wanted to be recognized for the steps toward healing I was taking, I wanted to be trusted and have others trust the professionals to give me the "you need to, we should work on, if you woulds..." and have those who committed to supporting me do just that, support me.
What I needed from my sources of support were some vital ingredients that didn't feel like they were being met as people became more consumed with the illness and its affects and less consumed with Angela as a real person, not just an illness. I needed people to not tell my story and let me share in my time with whom I feel safe to do so... to not judge, to listen instead...to not expect perfection, instead recognize steps taken...to understand and ask supportive questions when they didn't...to support myself and those around me without making me feel like I was less than or a failure because I was hurting those around me...to recognize that the illness is what hurts those around me, not Angela...the illness controls me, I don't control it.
The "heart" left many of my relationships over the course of the last several weeks. And as hard as I tried to fight to keep it going, I just couldn't. The illness, the demon, was taking victims at rapid speed. And as the illness victimized those around me the darker my world became...until hope was lost.
I don't know if I will ever get better...will I get healthier, I hope so...will I hopefully have more lighter days than darker days, I hope so...will I hopefully bring more joy than sorrow into the lives of others, I hope so...will I feel more in control and less controlled by this illness, I hope so... We don't know. There are no guarantees. The best that we can hope for is to try...to take advantage of all support offered, to follow steps recommended based on pathways that have been "blazed" by others, to take the medications that will hopefully provide more rest and balance, to listen and openly share in the most intimate and vulnerable ways in hopes that an answer can be found somewhere in amongst the piles.
Monday I had the first visit with a psychiatrist that will be treating me for the next two months. I can't tell you in words alone how terrifying it is for me to know that she is only here for two months and after that she will move on, and yes, I fear that I will feel abandoned as a result. To know that I have to openly trust, share and have faith in her yet she is going to leave sooner rather than later. That is definitely challenging for me. But despite that I sat down and poured out the terrifying details of the spiraling pit of darkness that this illness has created in my life lately. Right down to the details you really don't want to speak, but know you have to. She recognized the many double-edged swords for me. Especially the one where I am so aware, which she says is a huge blessing for me because many people take months or years of therapy to get to the awareness point I am at, but that the awareness is also a curse because as aware as I am I still can't just fix it. I can't "snap out of it", "release it" like many want me to be able to do, like I wish I could. It just isn't possible because "it" is a part of my illness. I have wondered myself and have been encouraged to by others to pursue "getting away for a bit", basically checking into the hospital. After sharing with my psychiatrist the intimate details of how close I have been to death's door I asked her what she thought about hospitalization with regards to me. I was surprised by her answer, because so many are convinced it is the "best answer" for me right now; she said that she thinks it would do more harm than good at this point for me. That because I have so much support in place that it is best for me to remain at home...that the hospital is an awful place to be (which I already knew). Sure, there are days where I'd like to escape all this...but not the physical stuff, the day to day routine instead I want to "escape" the emotional side of all this and unfortunately that will never go away it will always be with me and without the day to day routine it is even more prevalent. So yes, despite feeling suffocated by emotions and wanting an escape, I too agree that the hospital is likely not the answer at this point.
So here I sit...feeling abandoned by those I needed most. Left in this dark pit of living hell where those who still brave the world of Angela are carrying heavier loads as they try and keep me afloat. As I try and "kick in" my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and the manic side of my Bipolar Disorder in order to somehow make it through the day and not let the Depression side of the Bipolar and Borderline Personality Disorder take over my being, and not let the fears from the Borderline Personality Disorder consume me and not let the severely debilitating anxiety from the Anxiety Disorder prevent me from coping. Yes, I am grasping at light within this living hell of my world crumbling around me...and somehow we are making it at least until the physical darkness of night comes or until I stop and think and feel...ugh...gotta avoid that at all costs right now. Just keep moving...keep doing....keep being "supermom" even if I stumble and get my cape dirty.
So yes, as my psychiatrist said...we will take this very slowly. Change will not happen over night and it will be a lot of work. And for those who are willing to understand and support me, I am thankful because they make it a little less frightening and a little more manageable. For those who have chosen to walk away, I am sad...and confused...and really hurt...sad that you couldn't hear me, sad that you couldn't understand, confused that what I had with you all wasn't what I thought it was, and hurt that you gave up...and in essence when I needed you most, when I needed light most I ended up feeling my greatest fear ~ abandonment.
This is an illness...I can't just "snap out of it"...can't change overnight...and can't change the way the illness makes me think and feel...I can try to get help...I can try and do this challenging work of changing some of my actions...and I can take it one step at a time...this will be a daily battle for me for the rest of my life. I will fight the demon that this illness is for every moment of my life, with every breath I take. And some days I'll win, other days the illness may be stronger...hopefully one day I'll win more than not. But until then it is one small step at a time. Just as you wouldn't say to a diabetic "eat this cake and don't have a reaction", you can't say to me "don't think that, don't feel that, it isn't that way ~ you see it wrong"...because what I see, think and feel and A LOT of what I do is controlled by the illness. One day maybe I'll be strong enough to occasionally control the illness instead of it controlling me...but until then I'll have to take it one step at a time as I search for more clarity, understanding and tools.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
April 23 ~ 2
Attachment...
Quite often those with BPD have an almost obsessive attachment to the people in their lives. This is likely due to their intense fear of being abandoned and their need to do everything possible to avoid real or imagined abandonment. So, it is no wonder that I am one of those people that can sometimes be referred to as "clingy" or "overbearing". That need to feel attached and secure can be very intense at times.
This past week I have found myself feeling significantly less attached to those closest to me, if attached at all. I have found myself craving aloneness...quite unique for me, someone who usually needs to be around people. I have found myself not worrying about being abandoned because I don't want people in my life at all. I have found that what I am becoming more attached to is not people, but rather possessions or favourite items. Such as my favourite blanket or one of my comfort foods. Or yes, even this computer and its "word games". Those things won't leave...and I can't hurt them.
Even today, I normally would have waited until the bus departed for the trip my children were going on. I would have felt that intense need to watch them leave so that I could feel secure with their whereabouts. This is in part due to my BPD and in part due to my OCD. But today I didn't wait. I felt no need to. I felt a sense of relief that they were leaving, that they didn't have to be exposed to me. Because I have felt them slip away already I haven't feared them abandoning me, because they have already done so in part. Sure, I'll miss them...but part of me feels strongly that they are better off without me.
I think beneath it all what is fueling this lack of desire for attaching to people in my life is my desire to not live life anymore. The lack of strength I have to do the work to have relationships and to hang on to them is very prevalent. The sadness and fear that I feel related to the affects my illness has on those around me is all consuming. In many ways I feel like a prickly porcupine that should not be touched...for your own safety and well being.
I seem to be just "floating" about through life right now. Not a blissful or happy float...but a lost float. Not sure what I should do, how I should anchor myself or where I should turn. Because I am not sure I want to be...
Quite often those with BPD have an almost obsessive attachment to the people in their lives. This is likely due to their intense fear of being abandoned and their need to do everything possible to avoid real or imagined abandonment. So, it is no wonder that I am one of those people that can sometimes be referred to as "clingy" or "overbearing". That need to feel attached and secure can be very intense at times.
This past week I have found myself feeling significantly less attached to those closest to me, if attached at all. I have found myself craving aloneness...quite unique for me, someone who usually needs to be around people. I have found myself not worrying about being abandoned because I don't want people in my life at all. I have found that what I am becoming more attached to is not people, but rather possessions or favourite items. Such as my favourite blanket or one of my comfort foods. Or yes, even this computer and its "word games". Those things won't leave...and I can't hurt them.
Even today, I normally would have waited until the bus departed for the trip my children were going on. I would have felt that intense need to watch them leave so that I could feel secure with their whereabouts. This is in part due to my BPD and in part due to my OCD. But today I didn't wait. I felt no need to. I felt a sense of relief that they were leaving, that they didn't have to be exposed to me. Because I have felt them slip away already I haven't feared them abandoning me, because they have already done so in part. Sure, I'll miss them...but part of me feels strongly that they are better off without me.
I think beneath it all what is fueling this lack of desire for attaching to people in my life is my desire to not live life anymore. The lack of strength I have to do the work to have relationships and to hang on to them is very prevalent. The sadness and fear that I feel related to the affects my illness has on those around me is all consuming. In many ways I feel like a prickly porcupine that should not be touched...for your own safety and well being.
I seem to be just "floating" about through life right now. Not a blissful or happy float...but a lost float. Not sure what I should do, how I should anchor myself or where I should turn. Because I am not sure I want to be...
April 23 ~ 1
I have spent the morning in tears, or on the verge of tears...not even sure what I am crying about because I feel so numb inside. Perhaps the pain is so great it cannot be felt anymore...who knows. I have tried to "distract" myself from the tears by doing "mindless" tasks like playing word games on the computer or packing for the trip my children are taking. But nothing has taken away this emptiness feeling...that numbness...or the tears.
I had a dream/nightmare last night about an ex boyfriend, one whom I know abuses alcohol and uses it as a coping mechanism. In this dream he was confessing to me that he beat his current girlfriend. He told me that when he would drink he would get so out of control that he'd emotionally and physically abuse her.
I remember looking at him in my dream trying to come to terms with what he was saying. That he, "Mr. Nice Guy", was abusive...he was a monster. I remember feeling his girlfriend's pain and questioning why on earth she'd stay with such a monster when she deserved so much more. I remember crying in disbelief that this person I trusted could do something so horrific. Sure, he'd had a rough life...but that didn't make it justifiable.
I woke up this morning to the fresh reality of that vision, that confession playing over in my head and with the stark realization that my own personal suspicions about myself were true...that I am a monster.
I spent a great deal of time yesterday preparing an "emergency pack" for someone I care about. So that she has tools to keep her safe from the monster I am. While I was putting this package together I felt good, I felt light and productive. I knew I was making a positive step. I knew I was trying to make amends for months of wrong doings on my part. I felt like perhaps instead of doing wrong I was doing something right.
And then it hit...once the obsessiveness related to task completion wore off; the reality of my situation hit me. And then after last night, it has hit me even harder.
I am a monster...I am one of those people that everyone says you should leave. I am one of those hurtful and destructive people who lose the ability to control their thoughts, emotions, words and actions. I am one of those horrible people that the world looks down upon. In the heat of an episode I can be an abuser...a monster. And in the day-to-day need to find some way to cope...I can be an abuser through my need for feeling control. That is if you are someone in my life who is very close to me, who could be seen as a threat and who is well into adulthood. I suppose the only blessing in my life related to this monster is that it hasn't lashed out ever at children...likely because they aren't a threat in my illness related world. They won't leave...or take away the remotest amount of control I have.
The harsh reality has hit me so hard I feel knocked to the ground. I feel like telling everyone to leave...just putting on a sign that says,"keep away...monster inside". I have tried for years to fight the monster inside of me and have never won, why would anyone else hope to do so...what a dismal and scary thought...that the monster inside you cannot be defeated and you are destined to carry that role forever.
I had a dream/nightmare last night about an ex boyfriend, one whom I know abuses alcohol and uses it as a coping mechanism. In this dream he was confessing to me that he beat his current girlfriend. He told me that when he would drink he would get so out of control that he'd emotionally and physically abuse her.
I remember looking at him in my dream trying to come to terms with what he was saying. That he, "Mr. Nice Guy", was abusive...he was a monster. I remember feeling his girlfriend's pain and questioning why on earth she'd stay with such a monster when she deserved so much more. I remember crying in disbelief that this person I trusted could do something so horrific. Sure, he'd had a rough life...but that didn't make it justifiable.
I woke up this morning to the fresh reality of that vision, that confession playing over in my head and with the stark realization that my own personal suspicions about myself were true...that I am a monster.
I spent a great deal of time yesterday preparing an "emergency pack" for someone I care about. So that she has tools to keep her safe from the monster I am. While I was putting this package together I felt good, I felt light and productive. I knew I was making a positive step. I knew I was trying to make amends for months of wrong doings on my part. I felt like perhaps instead of doing wrong I was doing something right.
And then it hit...once the obsessiveness related to task completion wore off; the reality of my situation hit me. And then after last night, it has hit me even harder.
I am a monster...I am one of those people that everyone says you should leave. I am one of those hurtful and destructive people who lose the ability to control their thoughts, emotions, words and actions. I am one of those horrible people that the world looks down upon. In the heat of an episode I can be an abuser...a monster. And in the day-to-day need to find some way to cope...I can be an abuser through my need for feeling control. That is if you are someone in my life who is very close to me, who could be seen as a threat and who is well into adulthood. I suppose the only blessing in my life related to this monster is that it hasn't lashed out ever at children...likely because they aren't a threat in my illness related world. They won't leave...or take away the remotest amount of control I have.
The harsh reality has hit me so hard I feel knocked to the ground. I feel like telling everyone to leave...just putting on a sign that says,"keep away...monster inside". I have tried for years to fight the monster inside of me and have never won, why would anyone else hope to do so...what a dismal and scary thought...that the monster inside you cannot be defeated and you are destined to carry that role forever.
Really makes you think that the world would be better off without you....
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
April 22 ~ 2
Most days I spend unsure of my own identity. Unsure of whom I truly am at the root of all this complex wiring that creates my brain...my identity through my struggles with mental illness. Having multiple labels only makes this identity struggle that much greater, because truly every day is completely different for me. Every situation is often viewed from multiple facets...quite like a kaleidoscope. That kaleidoscope is my perception of the world and my emotional responses to life...ever shifting, ever changing and never predictable.
This perhaps makes being in a relationship with me that much more challenging. BPD in itself is responsible for a large portion of that lack of identity and ever changing reactions and perceptions. The DSM-IV-TR diagnostic traits confirm that this is a significant part of the illness. So, already with one mental illness alone I am likely to face such struggles. Add to that the three other suspected / diagnosed mental illnesses and it is no wonder I so often feel lost and out of control; because my life is constantly changing.
The OCD in me struggles desperately to maintain control in any way possible; through scheduling, orderliness of my household, structure and routine while the Bipolar and BPD in me are in stark contrast with their impulsivity and chaotic and unpredictable mood swings. Then to top it all off you throw in the anxiety which makes coping with life that much more difficult.
No wonder I feel like I am on a spiraling roller coaster where I can't see the remotest semblance of my destination. It would be like hopping in your car and driving for miles in search of a place you have never been to, that you have absolutely no directions to get there and you have to make it there intact, healthy and in a timely fashion...not possible. Any person would end up driving in circles, branching off in bizarre directions and then giving up with the feeling of hopelessness as you are lost and see no ability to reach your destination.
I spent a large part of the day in a Manic / OCD state where those characteristics dominated over the dark depression that I am feeling. The darkness where I have found myself lately because of the BPD characteristics that have greatly influenced the severity of my emotions. The place where I am sure that the best option for me would be to not exist. So my spirit "kicked in" to survival mode and I was sent into the spiraling, speedy emotions related to mania, and the "I must get this done immediately and without any mistakes" OCD tendency had me desperately trying to maintain order so that I could accomplish the day's tasks.
And now...actually since just before dinner tonight...I am slipping back into that darkness. Exhausted from the day's events and accomplishments and wanting to curl up into a ball and sob. Express this heart wrenching grief that is shadowing me right now. Cry out for answers, for hope, for help...and for clarity.
To find clarity...what a gift that would be. Considering the "mixing pot" of labels I have, that likely isn't possible. So, perhaps the gift of being able to cope and somewhere in the jumble find some semblance of Angela's identity is more attainable.
It is no wonder I feel like nobody understands me, I don't understand myself. What a challenging and scary place to be...
Well...I'll leave it at that...we'll see what tomorrow has in store for me...I know at this point I feel drawn towards spending the day in bed.
This perhaps makes being in a relationship with me that much more challenging. BPD in itself is responsible for a large portion of that lack of identity and ever changing reactions and perceptions. The DSM-IV-TR diagnostic traits confirm that this is a significant part of the illness. So, already with one mental illness alone I am likely to face such struggles. Add to that the three other suspected / diagnosed mental illnesses and it is no wonder I so often feel lost and out of control; because my life is constantly changing.
The OCD in me struggles desperately to maintain control in any way possible; through scheduling, orderliness of my household, structure and routine while the Bipolar and BPD in me are in stark contrast with their impulsivity and chaotic and unpredictable mood swings. Then to top it all off you throw in the anxiety which makes coping with life that much more difficult.
No wonder I feel like I am on a spiraling roller coaster where I can't see the remotest semblance of my destination. It would be like hopping in your car and driving for miles in search of a place you have never been to, that you have absolutely no directions to get there and you have to make it there intact, healthy and in a timely fashion...not possible. Any person would end up driving in circles, branching off in bizarre directions and then giving up with the feeling of hopelessness as you are lost and see no ability to reach your destination.
I spent a large part of the day in a Manic / OCD state where those characteristics dominated over the dark depression that I am feeling. The darkness where I have found myself lately because of the BPD characteristics that have greatly influenced the severity of my emotions. The place where I am sure that the best option for me would be to not exist. So my spirit "kicked in" to survival mode and I was sent into the spiraling, speedy emotions related to mania, and the "I must get this done immediately and without any mistakes" OCD tendency had me desperately trying to maintain order so that I could accomplish the day's tasks.
And now...actually since just before dinner tonight...I am slipping back into that darkness. Exhausted from the day's events and accomplishments and wanting to curl up into a ball and sob. Express this heart wrenching grief that is shadowing me right now. Cry out for answers, for hope, for help...and for clarity.
To find clarity...what a gift that would be. Considering the "mixing pot" of labels I have, that likely isn't possible. So, perhaps the gift of being able to cope and somewhere in the jumble find some semblance of Angela's identity is more attainable.
It is no wonder I feel like nobody understands me, I don't understand myself. What a challenging and scary place to be...
Well...I'll leave it at that...we'll see what tomorrow has in store for me...I know at this point I feel drawn towards spending the day in bed.
April 22 ~ 1
Breathe...Angela breathe....I have been telling myself that a lot lately. And now as I sit down to write and try and calm my spinning body and mind I need to intently focus on exactly that before I can put any coherency to my thoughts.
Last night was awful...actually the last several days have been absolutely horrific. I have never felt so close to "death's door" as I have in the moments I have tried to live through the past few days. The calmness that would come over me was eerie like...as if I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the only way out of this misery was to end it myself and give up. My spirit was consumed with grief and fear as I felt everything slipping away from me. When emotions came to me, they came in a ravaging storm of unrelenting sobs and cries out. Crying out for what...for life...for death...for peace...for understanding.
My writings have been very repetitious lately as I have struggled immensely with that feeling of not being understood and losing trust in those I need to be able to trust the most...those who are significant sources of support for me. I know my mind, heart and spirit need to feel heard, need to feel understood...I have called out what I need, I have openly shared my needs, my struggles and my challenges...yet I am feeling like nobody is listening. What is it going to take for me to feel heard?
To share the intimacy of a journey towards a healthier life with someone who suffers from mental illness requires a great deal from those who are a part of that support system and not only from the person them self. I feel like as much as those who support me surround me, that I am doing all the work. That it is only I who needs to look at change...and in truth, health within my relationships will require change from everyone involved, not just myself. I have written and spoken areas of need, areas where support can be most effective...yet that so frequently goes unanswered, unheard or unnoticed.
It is so incredibly difficult to live life. To feel your own self slip away into that pit of darkness that consumes all of your spirit, all of your fight for life. The darkness that sucks your breath away...It is the place where you feel utterly and completely alone. As if the light will never shine again.
For me, those feelings most often have come throughout my journey when I feel my sources of support slipping away, the people and the "vices". As if I am held up by strings that keep me going and as each string is cut, I begin to fall...fall into that deep, dark, pit.
Yes, I know many of you reading this are likely saying to yourselves...but she wants to be alone...she told us to leave her alone...and yes, I have tried contacting her anyway.
Yes, I wanted to be alone...not because I crave this tormenting time of aloneness, although some time alone is good, but because in order to be able to embrace the support of others, I NEED to be able to trust, I NEED to feel understood and heard and I NEED to be seen as a complete person; not just as the negative aspects of an illness that yes, is taking over and consuming my life as it sucks everything out of me...as I slip away.
Yes...slip away into that place where choosing life is too hard...because it is too hard to do it alone...and too hard to do it with others.
Last night was awful...actually the last several days have been absolutely horrific. I have never felt so close to "death's door" as I have in the moments I have tried to live through the past few days. The calmness that would come over me was eerie like...as if I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the only way out of this misery was to end it myself and give up. My spirit was consumed with grief and fear as I felt everything slipping away from me. When emotions came to me, they came in a ravaging storm of unrelenting sobs and cries out. Crying out for what...for life...for death...for peace...for understanding.
My writings have been very repetitious lately as I have struggled immensely with that feeling of not being understood and losing trust in those I need to be able to trust the most...those who are significant sources of support for me. I know my mind, heart and spirit need to feel heard, need to feel understood...I have called out what I need, I have openly shared my needs, my struggles and my challenges...yet I am feeling like nobody is listening. What is it going to take for me to feel heard?
To share the intimacy of a journey towards a healthier life with someone who suffers from mental illness requires a great deal from those who are a part of that support system and not only from the person them self. I feel like as much as those who support me surround me, that I am doing all the work. That it is only I who needs to look at change...and in truth, health within my relationships will require change from everyone involved, not just myself. I have written and spoken areas of need, areas where support can be most effective...yet that so frequently goes unanswered, unheard or unnoticed.
It is so incredibly difficult to live life. To feel your own self slip away into that pit of darkness that consumes all of your spirit, all of your fight for life. The darkness that sucks your breath away...It is the place where you feel utterly and completely alone. As if the light will never shine again.
For me, those feelings most often have come throughout my journey when I feel my sources of support slipping away, the people and the "vices". As if I am held up by strings that keep me going and as each string is cut, I begin to fall...fall into that deep, dark, pit.
Yes, I know many of you reading this are likely saying to yourselves...but she wants to be alone...she told us to leave her alone...and yes, I have tried contacting her anyway.
Yes, I wanted to be alone...not because I crave this tormenting time of aloneness, although some time alone is good, but because in order to be able to embrace the support of others, I NEED to be able to trust, I NEED to feel understood and heard and I NEED to be seen as a complete person; not just as the negative aspects of an illness that yes, is taking over and consuming my life as it sucks everything out of me...as I slip away.
Yes...slip away into that place where choosing life is too hard...because it is too hard to do it alone...and too hard to do it with others.
Monday, April 21, 2008
April 21 ~ 3
Here I sit again...feeling drawn to write, yet again today. Perhaps it is because there is so much bottled inside that I need to get it out. Or even likelier it is due to the desperate need to escape this tormenting pain that I am feeling. Pain that is so relentless and hurts so much, that calm has overcome me...that vacant, empty feeling, because there is too much to feel that you feel nothing...you give up. And that is exactly how I feel.
I feel like a "pack horse" that keeps getting things loaded on top of me. Everywhere I move there is something else being piled on me. With each "burden" my strength dissipates. I turn and look around, desperately searching for somewhere to let down the load...someone who may perhaps help me carry the load. But alas, there is no one. My broken and burned spirit knows that when I have done so instead of the load getting lighter, it has become greater.
At what point is it too much...when do you break? What is the "last straw" as they say? My "knees" are crumbling beneath me...my spirit is crushed...my heart is fragile and my mind is broken. Left here in the vacant emptiness that once held my spirit, I feel defeated. Yes, the burdens have taken their toll and there is no hope for the load getting lighter anywhere in sight, because the places I thought I had to release the load hurt me more than helped me...perhaps it is because they don't understand, as hard as I try to tell them, what I need to make the load lighter...or perhaps they just don't understand me at all.
I can feel myself fading away, as physical pain overcomes my emotional pain. And not in the form of my usual coping mechanisms...they aren't enough. Instead, without my control, my body is fighting itself...rejecting itself...causing excruciating pain. Is that a blessing, where I don't have to think of how to take the pain away myself...instead my body is choosing for me. Perhaps the rejection is due to the betrayed, hurt, judged and rejected spirit I have...from being as I always have been ~ truly alone and never understood.
I feel like a "pack horse" that keeps getting things loaded on top of me. Everywhere I move there is something else being piled on me. With each "burden" my strength dissipates. I turn and look around, desperately searching for somewhere to let down the load...someone who may perhaps help me carry the load. But alas, there is no one. My broken and burned spirit knows that when I have done so instead of the load getting lighter, it has become greater.
At what point is it too much...when do you break? What is the "last straw" as they say? My "knees" are crumbling beneath me...my spirit is crushed...my heart is fragile and my mind is broken. Left here in the vacant emptiness that once held my spirit, I feel defeated. Yes, the burdens have taken their toll and there is no hope for the load getting lighter anywhere in sight, because the places I thought I had to release the load hurt me more than helped me...perhaps it is because they don't understand, as hard as I try to tell them, what I need to make the load lighter...or perhaps they just don't understand me at all.
I can feel myself fading away, as physical pain overcomes my emotional pain. And not in the form of my usual coping mechanisms...they aren't enough. Instead, without my control, my body is fighting itself...rejecting itself...causing excruciating pain. Is that a blessing, where I don't have to think of how to take the pain away myself...instead my body is choosing for me. Perhaps the rejection is due to the betrayed, hurt, judged and rejected spirit I have...from being as I always have been ~ truly alone and never understood.
April 21 ~ 2
A visual representation of what it is like to suffer from mental illness...
Maybe it will help you understand what my world is like...
Maybe it will help you understand what my world is like...
(Put your cursor over the slide show to see the captions)
April 21 ~ 1
When I sat down at the computer this morning I was unsure of whether or not I was going to write. After less than four hours of sleep, yet feeling very much awake, and a night filled with intense heartache I was unsure of whether or not I wanted to pour my heart out here. The feeling that there are many of you who don't understand, whom I don't want to share with anymore, is in stark contrast with my need to write...my need to write won out this time.
I cannot fully express that spiraling intensity of emotions that overcomes me when I reach that breaking point. The pain is far more than words alone can describe. Building up to it is much like fueling an active volcano until it erupts. And when it erupts it "burns" everything in its path, including the volcano itself. I try so hard to prevent the "fueling" from occurring by reaching out, expressing the thoughts and feelings that are piling up inside my mind, body, heart and spirit. But nobody seems to notice; nobody seems to get it. Perhaps it is because those things seem trivial to others, perhaps they just don't notice my cries for support and comfort, perhaps they see a solution or figure "we'll cross that bridge when we get there" so they think it is futile discussing it at this point. Unfortunately my mind doesn't work that way. Unlike people whom have healthier minds, I can't just let it go or focus on the positive. It all builds up in me...the thoughts, feelings, interactions and "future pictures" all stay with me for considerably longer than most people. In fact, my mind is constantly full of past memories and future "what ifs". I don't have the same off switch or release that you do. Instead I put those thoughts and feelings out there, hoping to process some of them so that they will become less powerful, but nobody picks up on them.
"You aren't being clear"..."ask for what you want"..."but you said"..."I'll never understand"..."I can never do anything right"...those statements are thrown at me on a regular basis, sometimes spoken and sometimes unspoken. If I could think and feel with clarity, don't you think I would speak and act with clarity? Have you ever felt so confused in your life that you weren't sure what the "right" answer, thought or feeling was? Well, that's how I feel every minute of every day. I wish I could play the "movie" in my head for you...maybe then you'd understand...but perhaps not...it seems as if the only people who understand are those who have experienced the same feeling. Will people with "healthier" minds and hearts ever understand or am I truly destined to a life of misunderstanding?
I write, I express...but nobody hears, nobody truly understands. This misunderstanding hurts so much. Your response to my thoughts and feelings feels like you didn't hear or read the words I spoke or wrote. You pick up on the easier pieces to understand, but don't understand the pieces that run far deeper within, the pieces that are fueling that volcano. Why? What is wrong with me, that even when I try to tell you how I am feeling, how I am thinking, you don't understand?
Despite the incredibly intense spiraling thoughts and emotions from this weekend there is a calm that has come over me. Perhaps related to masking, letting go, finding the clarity of escape...or what. I can feel that just under the surface lie those thoughts and emotions that destroy my being...but I just don't want to feel them.
I cannot fully express that spiraling intensity of emotions that overcomes me when I reach that breaking point. The pain is far more than words alone can describe. Building up to it is much like fueling an active volcano until it erupts. And when it erupts it "burns" everything in its path, including the volcano itself. I try so hard to prevent the "fueling" from occurring by reaching out, expressing the thoughts and feelings that are piling up inside my mind, body, heart and spirit. But nobody seems to notice; nobody seems to get it. Perhaps it is because those things seem trivial to others, perhaps they just don't notice my cries for support and comfort, perhaps they see a solution or figure "we'll cross that bridge when we get there" so they think it is futile discussing it at this point. Unfortunately my mind doesn't work that way. Unlike people whom have healthier minds, I can't just let it go or focus on the positive. It all builds up in me...the thoughts, feelings, interactions and "future pictures" all stay with me for considerably longer than most people. In fact, my mind is constantly full of past memories and future "what ifs". I don't have the same off switch or release that you do. Instead I put those thoughts and feelings out there, hoping to process some of them so that they will become less powerful, but nobody picks up on them.
"You aren't being clear"..."ask for what you want"..."but you said"..."I'll never understand"..."I can never do anything right"...those statements are thrown at me on a regular basis, sometimes spoken and sometimes unspoken. If I could think and feel with clarity, don't you think I would speak and act with clarity? Have you ever felt so confused in your life that you weren't sure what the "right" answer, thought or feeling was? Well, that's how I feel every minute of every day. I wish I could play the "movie" in my head for you...maybe then you'd understand...but perhaps not...it seems as if the only people who understand are those who have experienced the same feeling. Will people with "healthier" minds and hearts ever understand or am I truly destined to a life of misunderstanding?
I write, I express...but nobody hears, nobody truly understands. This misunderstanding hurts so much. Your response to my thoughts and feelings feels like you didn't hear or read the words I spoke or wrote. You pick up on the easier pieces to understand, but don't understand the pieces that run far deeper within, the pieces that are fueling that volcano. Why? What is wrong with me, that even when I try to tell you how I am feeling, how I am thinking, you don't understand?
Despite the incredibly intense spiraling thoughts and emotions from this weekend there is a calm that has come over me. Perhaps related to masking, letting go, finding the clarity of escape...or what. I can feel that just under the surface lie those thoughts and emotions that destroy my being...but I just don't want to feel them.
I want PEACE instead...yes, peace.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
April 20 ~ 1
"Walking around like I have 5 heads"...yes, exactly...there is such incredible stigma attached to mental illness that statement truly describes how those of us who face the challenges of living with mental illness often feel. The most horrible thing is how incredibly much stigma can be present with the people who are closest to you. If only they knew how much it cuts like a knife and exacerbates the challenges we face. At least for me it does...
I feel like I have nowhere I can turn where I am truly understood and seen as Angela...not just as my illness. Since digging deeper to come up with the many "labels" that will hopefully facilitate more effective treatment, I have found that the more people know of my labels the more they focus on the illness or utilize the illness as a "crutch" for explanation for my or their actions. I am more than an illness...yes, I have said that time and time again...but it doesn't seem to really hit home with people. It is like the illness has masked everything.
Just because I have an illness that intensifies my emotions and that makes me more sensitive and reactive to what others may view as the smallest thing; it doesn't make my feelings any less valid. What I feel, what I think, is VERY real. So real that a great deal of my time is spent fearing and trying to hide my own emotions. Then I will come to a place where I trust the expression of those thoughts and feelings and I am usually faced with a lack of understanding. If only I could find the words to describe how hard that is for me...how much it hurts for me to feel like I can trust and then feel that trust slip away as I am misunderstood or viewed as only an illness.
Most of my life lately has been spent focused on my illness...not only by myself, but also by others. I feel like all I am is one big fat label...actually I suppose I'd be several big fat labels. How I'd love to have my feelings and thoughts validated as if I am a "real person", not just someone with mental illness. When I hurt, I hurt like you do...just more intensely...when I am happy or excited, I feel as you do...just on a higher level...when I am afraid, my fears are like yours...just more debilitating...when I am sad, I grieve like you do...it just takes me longer to feel better...every emotion you feel, I feel too and just as real but it is so much harder for me to cope than it is for you.
So, instead of trying to understand and face the realities of what I live with on a daily, moment by moment basis...you choose to use the illness as the reason for everything. You only feel that way because you are sick...it is your illness speaking...you throw my illness in my face instead of trying to understand. You use my illness as a justification for your actions...it is ok for us to talk about you "behind your back" or share your story because you are ill and you don't really know what you need or what is best for you. You use my illness to justify your actions of reluctance to face my very real feelings. You use my illness to account for your own actions...you claim I behave that way because I am ill or just interpreting it wrong. Just as I do wrong at times, you too can do wrong and should take accountability for your actions, not blame my illness.
This feeling comes up for me over and over, in most interactions with most of the people I have chosen to trust. This isn't "in my head"...it is VERY real for me. It isn't just the illness...because I am more than an illness that you choose not to understand; I am a very real person...just like you all are.
I have come to the point where I am losing trust in everyone and everything around me...ready to give up. Either lock myself away and not expose my intense vulnerabilities to everyone so that there will be no risk of the price that comes with support...the price of judgment. Either that or perhaps it is best just to give up...because I don't want to ONLY be an illness...I want to be Angela and all that encompasses.
So leave me alone...don't call...don't write...don't come over...just let me be...let me come to terms with my illness myself...because I refuse to give you all that "excuse" and "crutch" anymore!!!!!
I feel like I have nowhere I can turn where I am truly understood and seen as Angela...not just as my illness. Since digging deeper to come up with the many "labels" that will hopefully facilitate more effective treatment, I have found that the more people know of my labels the more they focus on the illness or utilize the illness as a "crutch" for explanation for my or their actions. I am more than an illness...yes, I have said that time and time again...but it doesn't seem to really hit home with people. It is like the illness has masked everything.
Just because I have an illness that intensifies my emotions and that makes me more sensitive and reactive to what others may view as the smallest thing; it doesn't make my feelings any less valid. What I feel, what I think, is VERY real. So real that a great deal of my time is spent fearing and trying to hide my own emotions. Then I will come to a place where I trust the expression of those thoughts and feelings and I am usually faced with a lack of understanding. If only I could find the words to describe how hard that is for me...how much it hurts for me to feel like I can trust and then feel that trust slip away as I am misunderstood or viewed as only an illness.
Most of my life lately has been spent focused on my illness...not only by myself, but also by others. I feel like all I am is one big fat label...actually I suppose I'd be several big fat labels. How I'd love to have my feelings and thoughts validated as if I am a "real person", not just someone with mental illness. When I hurt, I hurt like you do...just more intensely...when I am happy or excited, I feel as you do...just on a higher level...when I am afraid, my fears are like yours...just more debilitating...when I am sad, I grieve like you do...it just takes me longer to feel better...every emotion you feel, I feel too and just as real but it is so much harder for me to cope than it is for you.
So, instead of trying to understand and face the realities of what I live with on a daily, moment by moment basis...you choose to use the illness as the reason for everything. You only feel that way because you are sick...it is your illness speaking...you throw my illness in my face instead of trying to understand. You use my illness as a justification for your actions...it is ok for us to talk about you "behind your back" or share your story because you are ill and you don't really know what you need or what is best for you. You use my illness to justify your actions of reluctance to face my very real feelings. You use my illness to account for your own actions...you claim I behave that way because I am ill or just interpreting it wrong. Just as I do wrong at times, you too can do wrong and should take accountability for your actions, not blame my illness.
This feeling comes up for me over and over, in most interactions with most of the people I have chosen to trust. This isn't "in my head"...it is VERY real for me. It isn't just the illness...because I am more than an illness that you choose not to understand; I am a very real person...just like you all are.
I have come to the point where I am losing trust in everyone and everything around me...ready to give up. Either lock myself away and not expose my intense vulnerabilities to everyone so that there will be no risk of the price that comes with support...the price of judgment. Either that or perhaps it is best just to give up...because I don't want to ONLY be an illness...I want to be Angela and all that encompasses.
So leave me alone...don't call...don't write...don't come over...just let me be...let me come to terms with my illness myself...because I refuse to give you all that "excuse" and "crutch" anymore!!!!!
Saturday, April 19, 2008
April 19 ~ 1
I spend a great deal of my life worrying about the many other people in my life. Wondering if they are truly ok, figuring out what I can do to support them on their journey and focusing on remembering the things I have committed to. I carry them close in my heart and feel their emotions intensely. As if I am almost a part of them. I have been missing a dear friend greatly and haven't heard from him in quite some time, which has left me sad and scared. Finally today I heard from him.
Despite the 3000 miles that separate us, I could very much feel and hear his pain as he spoke to me. I could feel that out of control anxiety as if I was experiencing myself, I could hear it in his voice and in the words he spoke. Although he has never outwardly admitted to a "label", I know he is under psychiatric and medical treatment to deal with his moods and emotions. Like me, he is one who tends to avoid facing weakness. "I didn't want to call because I was afraid I'd start to cry," he says to me. And now he can call because the adjustment in meds has him feeling more "numbed out"...wanting to cry, but unable to do so physically. "You can always cry in my ear," I reply back to him...but know for his own reasons he has to maintain that protective facade that he is stronger than I am.
Everything in me wants to bridge the 3000 miles and hold him in an embrace that will take his pain, fears and anxiety away. How I wish I could bring him peace and fill his spirit with the love he deserves. Is this how others feel when they see me suffering? I know I have heard several times from a few people how they wish they could erase my pain and struggles...but they can't. Just as I can't for him. All I can do is love him and remind him that he is not alone on this journey...and yes, that he can cry in my ear anytime.
Despite the 3000 miles that separate us, I could very much feel and hear his pain as he spoke to me. I could feel that out of control anxiety as if I was experiencing myself, I could hear it in his voice and in the words he spoke. Although he has never outwardly admitted to a "label", I know he is under psychiatric and medical treatment to deal with his moods and emotions. Like me, he is one who tends to avoid facing weakness. "I didn't want to call because I was afraid I'd start to cry," he says to me. And now he can call because the adjustment in meds has him feeling more "numbed out"...wanting to cry, but unable to do so physically. "You can always cry in my ear," I reply back to him...but know for his own reasons he has to maintain that protective facade that he is stronger than I am.
Everything in me wants to bridge the 3000 miles and hold him in an embrace that will take his pain, fears and anxiety away. How I wish I could bring him peace and fill his spirit with the love he deserves. Is this how others feel when they see me suffering? I know I have heard several times from a few people how they wish they could erase my pain and struggles...but they can't. Just as I can't for him. All I can do is love him and remind him that he is not alone on this journey...and yes, that he can cry in my ear anytime.
Friday, April 18, 2008
April 18 ~ 2
Like old times...nice to be able to feel that tonight with you. I have missed that very much so. It was nice to be able to see a calmer presence in your eyes, instead of the fear. I know that fear so well...the fear that comes from facing your own worst fear...your own personal vulnerability. I remember that "Thelma and Louise" moment where we chose life. Seems like such a long time ago...so much has happened since then. And the months that I have been experiencing lately were so hard to cling to that "choose life" decision. Yes, the illness began to consume me, drawing me into that dark place where I wasn't so sure life was the right choice. There were many days and nights where I was just barely hanging on by one life thread.
And now, like you, I see that glimmer of hope. The one that comes from knowing that it is right to choose life...because no matter how destructive and worthless you believe you are there is still a purpose here for you. Yes, likely I'll face that glimmer being overcome by that shadow of fear and doubt again...I will probably always struggle with that battle between the light and the darkness. But right now, having arrived home from a night like it used to be, my spirit is filled with a bit more light than it has been for a while. I love you my friend...thank you for being ready...I knew we would walk together again.
And now, like you, I see that glimmer of hope. The one that comes from knowing that it is right to choose life...because no matter how destructive and worthless you believe you are there is still a purpose here for you. Yes, likely I'll face that glimmer being overcome by that shadow of fear and doubt again...I will probably always struggle with that battle between the light and the darkness. But right now, having arrived home from a night like it used to be, my spirit is filled with a bit more light than it has been for a while. I love you my friend...thank you for being ready...I knew we would walk together again.
April 18 ~ 1
Well, the fog is finally beginning to lift. I woke up this morning with that "hung over feeling". At least what I think would be a hung over feeling since I have never been hung over. I was so drowsy from my meds that it took everything in me to get out of bed to get the kids to school. Upon my return from taking the girls to school, I crawled back into bed in hopes that a few more moments rest would some how take away the "zombie feeling". Rest, coffee, morning stimulant meds, a warm shower and some tidying up around the house has managed to somewhat do the trick!
It was odd not writing last night before I went to bed, but I was feeling far too overwhelmed by the day's events and knowledge to be able to put my thoughts and feelings into words.
Yesterday I went for one of those "share your life story in an hour so we can get a potential diagnosis" appointments. One hour to share your life story. Hmmm...that might be possible if you were under the age of five and have lived a fairly hum drum life. But for someone who has had even the remotest quantity of experiences, an hour truly doesn't cut it. But it does put your foot in the door.
I knew prior to my appointment that it was either going to go well or horrible, that there wouldn't be an in between. Arriving at the hospital, I get a glimpse of the man whom would be my assessment psychiatrist. An uncertain feeling overcomes me, as at first glance he doesn't appear to be someone I'd connect easily with. Thankfully that first glance impression was inaccurate.
Sitting within the confines of the small office that held his computer, a shelf of books and a few chairs we began the process. His first question to me was "what do you want from me". Hmm...I was taken aback for a brief moment, and then responded with an "I want to be able to live more fully and I am hoping you would be able to help me with the resources to do so." Thus began our dialogue process as we tried to "cram" my life's history into our brief session together. We'd go back and forth with questions and responses; he allowed me to speak freely and openly and never made me feel judged. What a true gift that is for someone who suffers from mental illness, to be able to face someone, bare your soul and not feel judged. I suppose much like I do here.
"You are a fascinating woman" he spoke to me near the conclusion of our appointment. You don't quite fit the "classic" Borderline Personality profile exactly, because you are a "supermom". He then proceeded to fill me in on his interpretation of my struggles with mental illness, including his feeling that I suffered from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and Anxiety along with the Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and Bipolar that I had been previously diagnosed with and unfortunately because of the OCD I was so functioning that I didn't receive help and likely was unsure of whether or not I needed help over all of these years...the almost 30 years that I seem to have been faced with the challenges of mental illness. REALLY...I thought...hmm...that is what I have always suspected myself. Interesting to find out how accurately you really do know yourself, too bad others don't always believe in that ability.
He then began to explain the treatment options available for me which included my being able to have access to the system...yes, I am stepping into the door of professional treatment for Mental Illness within the Health Care System. This opportunity could open many doors and possibilities for my gaining greater health. I greeted his suggestions willingly and am thankful that in less than a month I'll begin the intake process for Outpatient treatment!
Then we discussed my medications and their chemical affect on me. Thankfully the medications my family doctor had me on were ones that will treat the spectrum of my comorbid mental illnesses, they just needed to be "tweaked" a bit. With the shift of meds and times that I take them he promised the prospect of better sleep...what a gift that would be.
Well, I began that new shift of meds last night and as you can see from the beginning of this entry I did manage to get some sleep. And yes, that adjustment to the meds is responsible for my "hung over" feeling and that should thankfully go away as my body adjusts to the new chemical balances. It may take some more tweaking and shifting, and perhaps introduction of different medications but I am thankful that my psychiatrist, who specializes in such medications, will be responsible for my prescription drug therapy from now on.
It is a blessing and terrifying at the same time as I embrace my acceptance into the being given the opportunity for the possibility of professional treatment for these illnesses that I have suffered from for far too long. Yes, I have had treatment before, and then due to circumstances let that treatment go because I thought I'd be ok...now I know that I will forever face Mental Illness as a part of my life, but that there is hope that it doesn't have to as challenging of a part of my life.
To those who have helped me find the courage to take these steps and who have supported me, and my loved ones...I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
The road ahead will not be easy. There will be many bumps and it will be very time consuming. But at least we can feel like we are moving forward, even if there are times we may get "hit" backwards along this journey.
It was odd not writing last night before I went to bed, but I was feeling far too overwhelmed by the day's events and knowledge to be able to put my thoughts and feelings into words.
Yesterday I went for one of those "share your life story in an hour so we can get a potential diagnosis" appointments. One hour to share your life story. Hmmm...that might be possible if you were under the age of five and have lived a fairly hum drum life. But for someone who has had even the remotest quantity of experiences, an hour truly doesn't cut it. But it does put your foot in the door.
I knew prior to my appointment that it was either going to go well or horrible, that there wouldn't be an in between. Arriving at the hospital, I get a glimpse of the man whom would be my assessment psychiatrist. An uncertain feeling overcomes me, as at first glance he doesn't appear to be someone I'd connect easily with. Thankfully that first glance impression was inaccurate.
Sitting within the confines of the small office that held his computer, a shelf of books and a few chairs we began the process. His first question to me was "what do you want from me". Hmm...I was taken aback for a brief moment, and then responded with an "I want to be able to live more fully and I am hoping you would be able to help me with the resources to do so." Thus began our dialogue process as we tried to "cram" my life's history into our brief session together. We'd go back and forth with questions and responses; he allowed me to speak freely and openly and never made me feel judged. What a true gift that is for someone who suffers from mental illness, to be able to face someone, bare your soul and not feel judged. I suppose much like I do here.
"You are a fascinating woman" he spoke to me near the conclusion of our appointment. You don't quite fit the "classic" Borderline Personality profile exactly, because you are a "supermom". He then proceeded to fill me in on his interpretation of my struggles with mental illness, including his feeling that I suffered from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and Anxiety along with the Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and Bipolar that I had been previously diagnosed with and unfortunately because of the OCD I was so functioning that I didn't receive help and likely was unsure of whether or not I needed help over all of these years...the almost 30 years that I seem to have been faced with the challenges of mental illness. REALLY...I thought...hmm...that is what I have always suspected myself. Interesting to find out how accurately you really do know yourself, too bad others don't always believe in that ability.
He then began to explain the treatment options available for me which included my being able to have access to the system...yes, I am stepping into the door of professional treatment for Mental Illness within the Health Care System. This opportunity could open many doors and possibilities for my gaining greater health. I greeted his suggestions willingly and am thankful that in less than a month I'll begin the intake process for Outpatient treatment!
Then we discussed my medications and their chemical affect on me. Thankfully the medications my family doctor had me on were ones that will treat the spectrum of my comorbid mental illnesses, they just needed to be "tweaked" a bit. With the shift of meds and times that I take them he promised the prospect of better sleep...what a gift that would be.
Well, I began that new shift of meds last night and as you can see from the beginning of this entry I did manage to get some sleep. And yes, that adjustment to the meds is responsible for my "hung over" feeling and that should thankfully go away as my body adjusts to the new chemical balances. It may take some more tweaking and shifting, and perhaps introduction of different medications but I am thankful that my psychiatrist, who specializes in such medications, will be responsible for my prescription drug therapy from now on.
It is a blessing and terrifying at the same time as I embrace my acceptance into the being given the opportunity for the possibility of professional treatment for these illnesses that I have suffered from for far too long. Yes, I have had treatment before, and then due to circumstances let that treatment go because I thought I'd be ok...now I know that I will forever face Mental Illness as a part of my life, but that there is hope that it doesn't have to as challenging of a part of my life.
To those who have helped me find the courage to take these steps and who have supported me, and my loved ones...I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
The road ahead will not be easy. There will be many bumps and it will be very time consuming. But at least we can feel like we are moving forward, even if there are times we may get "hit" backwards along this journey.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
April 17 ~ 1
Another sleepless night has left me feeling exhausted. My head is pounding and my eyes are heavy, yet as hard as I try sleep doesn't come. It is so incredibly frustrating lying there wanting sleep to come, to be able to rest, yet for what ever reason the body and mind cannot connect to that world of sleep. So you lie there awake, staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning, shifting blankets, hoping that at some moment the sleep you so desperately need will come to you.
Somehow I have to muster up enough coherency to make it through yet another assessment. This time the assessment will be at the hospital with a psychiatrist from the outpatient team. Perhaps this will be the door that opens for me to provide me with the support I so desperately need...unless it turns out to be one of those "system frustrations".
As much as you seek the help and feel the blessing that another step is being taken, you also fear the step. Fear what you may discover, about the system and about yourself. And about how others might view you. Those masks that you have worn so often seem tempting. You know they'd help to hide the fear, the vulnerability, the real you. But at the same time you know that if you are ever to get the help you need to live life to your fullest potential you will have to put down those masks and expose your vulnerability. Not an easy thing to do.
I have written this morning...had a hot shower...enjoyed a cup of chai tea...listened to music...all in hopes of calming my spirit.
I pray that I will have the strength to connect to this opportunity, to be fully present and vulnerable and to be filled with hope that another door may be opened for me. Yes, that would be so much better than this anxiety, fear and sadness that seem to be consuming me right now.
Somehow I have to muster up enough coherency to make it through yet another assessment. This time the assessment will be at the hospital with a psychiatrist from the outpatient team. Perhaps this will be the door that opens for me to provide me with the support I so desperately need...unless it turns out to be one of those "system frustrations".
As much as you seek the help and feel the blessing that another step is being taken, you also fear the step. Fear what you may discover, about the system and about yourself. And about how others might view you. Those masks that you have worn so often seem tempting. You know they'd help to hide the fear, the vulnerability, the real you. But at the same time you know that if you are ever to get the help you need to live life to your fullest potential you will have to put down those masks and expose your vulnerability. Not an easy thing to do.
I have written this morning...had a hot shower...enjoyed a cup of chai tea...listened to music...all in hopes of calming my spirit.
I pray that I will have the strength to connect to this opportunity, to be fully present and vulnerable and to be filled with hope that another door may be opened for me. Yes, that would be so much better than this anxiety, fear and sadness that seem to be consuming me right now.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
April 16 ~ 2
What I wouldn't give to be able to shut out the spinning thoughts, the barrage of feelings that consume my being. How I'd love to be "normal" and be able to stop the intensity that I feel...because right now it hurts so much. My heart is breaking; I can almost feel it crushing inside my chest. The tears flow freely as the emotions overwhelm me. This state between conscious realistic thoughts and the suffocating emotions that seem so hard to fight brings about that sense of hopelessness, the need to escape. It is in this place that I feel so very alone, as if nobody else could possibly understand what I am feeling. Craving anything that will make the pain stop. Those temporarily soothing items taunt me, calling out to me to help me escape this feeling of losing control. Of wanting the pain to stop and not being able to make it stop.
They say people with BPD feel things with more intensity and are more sensitive than others who don't suffer from the Mental Illness that inflicts us. It is said that you should take your worst possible feeling and multiply it by three and then you might come close to what we feel on a daily basis. Let alone a time of what seems to be an overwhelming emotional crisis.
I try so hard to fight the negative thoughts with the positive ones...but the negative ones seem so much stronger. They fire at me in rapid speed, taking away my sense of reality, my ability to cope.
Tonight hurts in that deep cutting way...the place where you know you have failed. Where you have let down those you love more than anything in this world. The thoughts that perhaps they'd be better off without you seem to speak volumes. You begin to question if that would make it all better. But...you aren't so sure. You are swinging like a pendulum, unsure of where you are going to stop.
Oh, the physical pain hurts far less then this horrific emotional pain. Just a moments reprieve...just enough to help me cope. You crave that brief moment of escape. The calm that overcomes as the sharpness pierces my skin, taking away the feeling of suffocating...a release from that feeling as if you might explode from the intensity of the emotions you are feeling.
You hate yourself, berate yourself for all you have done wrong. Don't believe that you are worthy and can't understand your purpose anymore. You feel as if you are destroying everything in your wake...yourself and those you love...anyone that happens to briefly touch you. Others try and tell you that it is the illness taking over; you try and tell yourself that as you listen to their words that proclaim your worth, your value and that you are loved. But your doubt is stronger...how can someone so horrible and so broken be loved.
Please...just a moment's peace. Take it away.
Rest isn't possible, not that it has been for the last couple days. Stupid medication...and its supposed to help. You wonder if you should just give up. But what if...
How strong am I supposed to be...in mind, spirit and heart? I am not sure I am strong enough...
They say people with BPD feel things with more intensity and are more sensitive than others who don't suffer from the Mental Illness that inflicts us. It is said that you should take your worst possible feeling and multiply it by three and then you might come close to what we feel on a daily basis. Let alone a time of what seems to be an overwhelming emotional crisis.
I try so hard to fight the negative thoughts with the positive ones...but the negative ones seem so much stronger. They fire at me in rapid speed, taking away my sense of reality, my ability to cope.
Tonight hurts in that deep cutting way...the place where you know you have failed. Where you have let down those you love more than anything in this world. The thoughts that perhaps they'd be better off without you seem to speak volumes. You begin to question if that would make it all better. But...you aren't so sure. You are swinging like a pendulum, unsure of where you are going to stop.
Oh, the physical pain hurts far less then this horrific emotional pain. Just a moments reprieve...just enough to help me cope. You crave that brief moment of escape. The calm that overcomes as the sharpness pierces my skin, taking away the feeling of suffocating...a release from that feeling as if you might explode from the intensity of the emotions you are feeling.
You hate yourself, berate yourself for all you have done wrong. Don't believe that you are worthy and can't understand your purpose anymore. You feel as if you are destroying everything in your wake...yourself and those you love...anyone that happens to briefly touch you. Others try and tell you that it is the illness taking over; you try and tell yourself that as you listen to their words that proclaim your worth, your value and that you are loved. But your doubt is stronger...how can someone so horrible and so broken be loved.
Please...just a moment's peace. Take it away.
Rest isn't possible, not that it has been for the last couple days. Stupid medication...and its supposed to help. You wonder if you should just give up. But what if...
How strong am I supposed to be...in mind, spirit and heart? I am not sure I am strong enough...
April 16 ~ 1
Another sleepless night...so much for the Risperdone "knocking me out" and helping me sleep. My brain really hurts today and I feel as if I am in a fog. The mania of yesterday has been replaced with this feeling that I am not really here. One of those days where you aren't so sure how you got from A to B or how you are even existing.
Spent the last bit of this past hour dealing with some of life's stressors and hoping that now that it is out of the way the rest of the day will go much more smoothly. Nice to sit down and write for me...not for a more stressful purpose.
My eyes are sore today, likely from a lack of sleep. They have that heavy, burning feeling. I know though even if I lay down and try and get some sleep that it won't come. Amazing how tired you can feel and not be able to sleep...that is one of the perils in dealing with Mental Illness...the inability to turn the mind off and shut out the world. As much as we try and hide away from the world within the confines of our safe places, we still can't escape it. It is always there in our mind, playing over and over like a broken record.
I think today will entail a lot of curling up with my favourite blanket time...at least I hope it will. I don't have much energy for doing anything else. Perhaps I'll do some reading although I am finding reading difficult lately. Can't seem to process that well, likely due to stress and lack of sleep...but who really knows.
Spent the last bit of this past hour dealing with some of life's stressors and hoping that now that it is out of the way the rest of the day will go much more smoothly. Nice to sit down and write for me...not for a more stressful purpose.
My eyes are sore today, likely from a lack of sleep. They have that heavy, burning feeling. I know though even if I lay down and try and get some sleep that it won't come. Amazing how tired you can feel and not be able to sleep...that is one of the perils in dealing with Mental Illness...the inability to turn the mind off and shut out the world. As much as we try and hide away from the world within the confines of our safe places, we still can't escape it. It is always there in our mind, playing over and over like a broken record.
I think today will entail a lot of curling up with my favourite blanket time...at least I hope it will. I don't have much energy for doing anything else. Perhaps I'll do some reading although I am finding reading difficult lately. Can't seem to process that well, likely due to stress and lack of sleep...but who really knows.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
April 15 ~ 2
I am not sure what is worse...the drug induced grogginess or the sleep deprivation induced mania. My body has been "vibrating" all day. My mind is spinning and there is absolutely no calming it. I know my sleep deprived body and mind needs to find some way to calm itself in order to attempt to get some sleep...now that's the trick. It is so incredibly hard for those of us who suffer from mental illness to turn our minds off. We don't seem to have that "switch" that most people have. I have spent a lifetime envying those who can so easily quiet their minds and find a place of rest. Even in sleep I so rarely find that place of rest. Perhaps that's why in my most exhausted and overwhelmed state I crave peace. I can only imagine how blissful that might feel when I find it one day...I can only hope for that. Yes, maybe one day we will find the "tools" which will bring peace to my mind and spirit.
Until then, I will seek that remote semblance of peace that I may find within the confines of my favourite blanket, in the arms the one I love, in search of any thoughts that may bring me peace as I treasure the gift of knowing that I made it through the day...even if I did so spinning on hyper drive!!
Until then, I will seek that remote semblance of peace that I may find within the confines of my favourite blanket, in the arms the one I love, in search of any thoughts that may bring me peace as I treasure the gift of knowing that I made it through the day...even if I did so spinning on hyper drive!!
April 15 ~ 1
Trying to find the right combination of medication to help manage living with Mental Illness is a little like playing Russian Roulette. You never quite know where that medication will land...will it be helpful, detrimental or have no affect at all?
My doctor shifted my meds yesterday and took me off the Seroquel because of the side effects I was experiencing and put me on a low starting dose of Risperdone. Well...this morning I can say I miss my Seroquel. Although my nights were plagued with frequent dreams and nightmares, never quite getting into the restful pattern of sleep, it was still much better than the fitful night of tossing and turning, laying there awake that I experienced last night.
My brain hurts today...feeling very much overwhelmed and sleep deprived. Yet, the rest of me won't rest. I can feel the anxiety coursing through my body, likely due to my body missing that calming, grogginess that I experienced on the Seroquel. And also likely due to the intensity with which I have experienced things the last couple days, and the many overwhelming pieces of information that I have had to digest.
This day definitely calls for some "low key" time. Perhaps I will do a little reading, a little listening to music, of course some writing and hopefully some resting. Rest not only for the body, but also for the mind. I know...a lot for someone who is living with Mental Illness to hope for. Rest for the mind...that is a huge "HOPE" because my mind never rests, never has and perhaps never will. Who knows...perhaps it is dependent on how successful we are at playing Russian Roulette!
My doctor shifted my meds yesterday and took me off the Seroquel because of the side effects I was experiencing and put me on a low starting dose of Risperdone. Well...this morning I can say I miss my Seroquel. Although my nights were plagued with frequent dreams and nightmares, never quite getting into the restful pattern of sleep, it was still much better than the fitful night of tossing and turning, laying there awake that I experienced last night.
My brain hurts today...feeling very much overwhelmed and sleep deprived. Yet, the rest of me won't rest. I can feel the anxiety coursing through my body, likely due to my body missing that calming, grogginess that I experienced on the Seroquel. And also likely due to the intensity with which I have experienced things the last couple days, and the many overwhelming pieces of information that I have had to digest.
This day definitely calls for some "low key" time. Perhaps I will do a little reading, a little listening to music, of course some writing and hopefully some resting. Rest not only for the body, but also for the mind. I know...a lot for someone who is living with Mental Illness to hope for. Rest for the mind...that is a huge "HOPE" because my mind never rests, never has and perhaps never will. Who knows...perhaps it is dependent on how successful we are at playing Russian Roulette!
Monday, April 14, 2008
April 14 ~ 4
It has been a very draining and exhausting day on all levels ~ physically, emotionally, intellectually and psychologically. Which likely accounted for my robotic movements and speech. The "holding it together" until I could tuck my little princess into bed. Racing Beanie Babies is a good distraction when you are feeling the weight of the world upon your spirit. Thank heaven for the laughter of a six year old! :) That of course was preceded with several "I hate yous" from her and her brother throughout the day. Hmmm....you hate me because I don't want you to have too much sugar...if that makes me a "bad mom" then I gladly accept that title. Of course making light of it doesn't take the sting away from hearing such words (despite the fact that it is a common part of childhood development) and doesn't dry the tears I shed while attempting to eat dinner. I must say, all things considered, I was able to put on my finest masks and make it through the day without falling apart...despite the fact that I was crumbling inside.
April 14 ~ 3
The "record" playing over and over in my head today is saying ~ "I am more than an illness".
Yes, I AM more than an illness.
Yes, I AM more than an illness.
Facing a chronic or long-term illness is a very personal thing. This is the case regardless of what type of illness, but most especially true when the illness is mental illness because of the stigma and vast array of misunderstanding related to it.
I have welcomed into my world...my mind, heart and spirit in its most vulnerable of places...a few trusted individuals to walk along side me and share this very personal journey. Doing so took a great amount of courage for me...to trust people with the depth I have and to expose my most vulnerable pieces of my identity to them. I did so with the belief that these trusted individuals would be able to clearly see me as a complete person, a person first, and not just as an illness.
Now today I have played over and over in my head whether or not I should have done so...whether I was right to trust. Because at this point I am getting a significant feeling that they are having difficulty seeing me as more than an illness...it seems as if the illness is always forefront in their minds and is what is greatly influencing their thoughts and actions.
This saddens me...hurts me to the core of my being. Because even through the darkness I am able to see that I am more than an illness. I am a complete person who has multiple pieces that comprise my identity. Yes, the illness is a significant part of who I am...but it isn't everything. Not every thought, word or action in my life is related to my illness and despite the challenges that the illness brings into my life, and the lives of others, it doesn't mean that every thought, word or action is irrational or distorted because of my illness. And it doesn't discount your personal responsibility for your thoughts, words and actions...it isn't the ultimate "scapegoat".
I AM more than an illness.
April 14 ~ 2
My morning began, upon dropping the kids off at school, with a greeting of "how are you doing Angela?" To which I replied, "I have had a better life". That is exactly how I feel in this moment....that I have had a better life, not sure when I did or maybe it hasn't yet come....all I know is I am not so happy with this life I have right now.
It is no wonder so many people who struggle with mental illness give up. I know exactly how they feel. As if there is no way out of this spiraling pit of emptiness, grief, frustration, destruction and then those constant thoughts of "I am not good enough"...."I am not worthy". Yes, many of us feel as if we aren't even worthy of the breath we take. What a terrifying place to be....to be so filled with sadness and fear, to feel so completely broken and worthless. To truly question "is it really worth it"?
Yet, many of us still put one foot in front of the other, trying to make it through yet another day in hopes that there is something much more peaceful and love filled out there for us. Clinging to that faint glimmer of hope that this devastating pit is not all that life has in store for us.
So yes, we go on. Not without bumps, bruises and pain just to get through the day. We so desperately crave for this to end. How we want to feel loved, worthy and truly supported. Yet because of our feeling of unworthiness and brokenness we end up pushing away that which we crave so desperately. What a vicious, spiraling cycle that is. To want so desperately to be loved, needed, wanted and supported and when faced with that prospect to fear it so greatly, to fear the risk of abandonment so greatly, that we push it away. Pushing so hard until the person gives up and yes, our abandonment is confirmed. This is a constant debilitating struggle for me on a daily basis.
How I long to be truly loved and accepted..............yet how I fear it so immensely at the same time.......because after all you may end up seeing what I already know about myself.
I am scared......I am sad......and in this moment I am feeling so completely alone........and filled with such self hatred.....yes, it is no wonder many give up....because this is torture.
It is no wonder so many people who struggle with mental illness give up. I know exactly how they feel. As if there is no way out of this spiraling pit of emptiness, grief, frustration, destruction and then those constant thoughts of "I am not good enough"...."I am not worthy". Yes, many of us feel as if we aren't even worthy of the breath we take. What a terrifying place to be....to be so filled with sadness and fear, to feel so completely broken and worthless. To truly question "is it really worth it"?
Yet, many of us still put one foot in front of the other, trying to make it through yet another day in hopes that there is something much more peaceful and love filled out there for us. Clinging to that faint glimmer of hope that this devastating pit is not all that life has in store for us.
So yes, we go on. Not without bumps, bruises and pain just to get through the day. We so desperately crave for this to end. How we want to feel loved, worthy and truly supported. Yet because of our feeling of unworthiness and brokenness we end up pushing away that which we crave so desperately. What a vicious, spiraling cycle that is. To want so desperately to be loved, needed, wanted and supported and when faced with that prospect to fear it so greatly, to fear the risk of abandonment so greatly, that we push it away. Pushing so hard until the person gives up and yes, our abandonment is confirmed. This is a constant debilitating struggle for me on a daily basis.
How I long to be truly loved and accepted..............yet how I fear it so immensely at the same time.......because after all you may end up seeing what I already know about myself.
I am scared......I am sad......and in this moment I am feeling so completely alone........and filled with such self hatred.....yes, it is no wonder many give up....because this is torture.
April 14 ~ 1
Just woke up yet again from another horrendous nightmare, one verging so close to reality that I had to "check my bearings" when I awoke. Four hours of fitful sleep......I suppose that is nearly the same as four hours of fitful wakefulness, except the only one who really suffers while I attempt to get some semblance of sleep is myself.
What I wouldn't give to be lying there peacefully like the rest of you are......you don't realize how lucky you are. Peace....what is that? Something I have rarely, if ever, felt in my life.
My body is vibrating.....crying those dry tears which is worse than crying what most call real tears. I wonder how many other people experience what I refer to as dry tears? They are even more painful than what is referred to as the normal tears.
Well I suppose I best try and attempt to get some more sleep. Perhaps I'll be blessed and the spiraling thoughts will subside and give me a brief reprieve......
What I wouldn't give to be lying there peacefully like the rest of you are......you don't realize how lucky you are. Peace....what is that? Something I have rarely, if ever, felt in my life.
My body is vibrating.....crying those dry tears which is worse than crying what most call real tears. I wonder how many other people experience what I refer to as dry tears? They are even more painful than what is referred to as the normal tears.
Well I suppose I best try and attempt to get some more sleep. Perhaps I'll be blessed and the spiraling thoughts will subside and give me a brief reprieve......
Sunday, April 13, 2008
April 13 ~ 3
I am scared....no terrified...there truly is no other way to most accurately describe how I feel. I feel so alone, like nobody in the world will ever understand me, let alone be able to support me in the areas that seem less challenging, even if they can't in the more challenging areas.
In 25 hours I will be going to the eye doctor's to find out if the drops are helping. I am not so sure I want the answer to that one. My mind, spirit and heart are filled with absolute terror regarding the worst possible situation....that eventually I'll lose all my eyesight.
What I wouldn't give to be a more "normal" person and not feel so consumed by the worst case scenario. To be able to easily have the faith and the belief that whatever I am handed I will be able to handle.
Instead I end up being one of those people who struggle to cope. Craving love and support while at the same time pushing it away, because after all I am broken.
It has been a difficult night as I struggle through all of this on top of my illness and what felt like a very challenging and judgmental day. Perhaps once the morning sun casts its light upon the day some of this darkness will be alleviated....but if not, well at least I know that this is not a place unknown to me.
It is hard to write tonight.....just want to crawl up in a ball and sob......just want this struggle to end, yet I know that it won't so easily, because it is a deep rooted part of who I am.
In 25 hours I will be going to the eye doctor's to find out if the drops are helping. I am not so sure I want the answer to that one. My mind, spirit and heart are filled with absolute terror regarding the worst possible situation....that eventually I'll lose all my eyesight.
What I wouldn't give to be a more "normal" person and not feel so consumed by the worst case scenario. To be able to easily have the faith and the belief that whatever I am handed I will be able to handle.
Instead I end up being one of those people who struggle to cope. Craving love and support while at the same time pushing it away, because after all I am broken.
It has been a difficult night as I struggle through all of this on top of my illness and what felt like a very challenging and judgmental day. Perhaps once the morning sun casts its light upon the day some of this darkness will be alleviated....but if not, well at least I know that this is not a place unknown to me.
It is hard to write tonight.....just want to crawl up in a ball and sob......just want this struggle to end, yet I know that it won't so easily, because it is a deep rooted part of who I am.
April 13 ~ 2
Hmmm....you'd think 2 hours of mowing foot high grass would somehow alleviate some of my frustration, anger, anxiety and sadness....but no such luck.
I am exhausted today, feeling very weary and hurt. Perhaps it is the knowledge that people are talking about me constantly behind my back. They do it in the name of love and support....if only they could realize how much it hurts when my story is shared without my knowledge. If only they knew how betrayed I felt, how judged such actions make me feel. These conversations swirling around in the name of love and support that happen as if the real person I am doesn't exist. The jaggedness of such conversations and sharing of information is perhaps one of the reasons it hurts so much....you aren't with me on a daily basis, you aren't in my mind, heart and spirit....so how can you truly know what the complete picture is? It is but a brief snapshot and only a piece of what comprises who I am and how I am "doing". Interestingly enough these conversations, snapshots of "Angela's life", consist mostly of the negative things, the negative or less desirable occurrences during the week and not the successes and challenges. If only you could hear what I hear when you come at me with "you shouldn't...", "you know better", "if you can't, then we will make the healthy decisions". Wait....have you forgotten my accomplishments, the hurdles I have overcome, the successes I have experienced? Did you forget that I diligently take my meds, that I spent quality time this week with my daughter reading her a chapter book, that I made it through the week without going back to bed after dropping off the kids, that I have experienced less episodes (despite some very challenging and devastating news), that I faced devastating news with strength and turned to others for support...yes, in the end I did turn to the less healthy alternatives, but many, not just the mentally ill, would do the same in such circumstances of sadness, grief and fear. If only you knew how much more ill it makes me feel when you challenge my ability as a mother (the one thing I believe I do right, with greater success than most despite my illness)....if only you knew how much it hurts when your support makes me feel judged and treated like an incompetent, irrational child.
Absolutely I understand your own personal fears, doubts, questions and concerns and that you do truly believe you are coming from a place of love and support. But reading one book, or perusing internet articles, witnessing an episode first hand or sharing a conversation or two with me or someone else who suffers from a mental illness does not make you an expert on my life. On what is best for me. Only I know myself best, and truthfully only I know what is best for my family....only I experience living with this illness every moment of every day that I face....so please, recognize that, recognize my strengths and my accomplishments, not only my weaknesses and my challenges.
Hold me, love me, support me, walk with me and experience all that this journey encompasses with me.......but remember each moment is but a brief synopsis in the life of someone who faces mental illness every moment....not just in that moment, whether it be a moment of weakness or strength. And remember, it is my story to share.....despite the illness I am capable and I will, and have, ask for support and your "suggestions/input" when I am ready to hear it. Because to tell me "what is best"...."what I should do".....or to threaten to take my control, my ability to make choices away.....only feeds the vicious cycle of my illness.
As a dear friend, who also faces the challenges of living with mental illness, said to me today....."nobody knows what we face on a daily basis, they will never completely understand".
How I wish you could.....
I am exhausted today, feeling very weary and hurt. Perhaps it is the knowledge that people are talking about me constantly behind my back. They do it in the name of love and support....if only they could realize how much it hurts when my story is shared without my knowledge. If only they knew how betrayed I felt, how judged such actions make me feel. These conversations swirling around in the name of love and support that happen as if the real person I am doesn't exist. The jaggedness of such conversations and sharing of information is perhaps one of the reasons it hurts so much....you aren't with me on a daily basis, you aren't in my mind, heart and spirit....so how can you truly know what the complete picture is? It is but a brief snapshot and only a piece of what comprises who I am and how I am "doing". Interestingly enough these conversations, snapshots of "Angela's life", consist mostly of the negative things, the negative or less desirable occurrences during the week and not the successes and challenges. If only you could hear what I hear when you come at me with "you shouldn't...", "you know better", "if you can't, then we will make the healthy decisions". Wait....have you forgotten my accomplishments, the hurdles I have overcome, the successes I have experienced? Did you forget that I diligently take my meds, that I spent quality time this week with my daughter reading her a chapter book, that I made it through the week without going back to bed after dropping off the kids, that I have experienced less episodes (despite some very challenging and devastating news), that I faced devastating news with strength and turned to others for support...yes, in the end I did turn to the less healthy alternatives, but many, not just the mentally ill, would do the same in such circumstances of sadness, grief and fear. If only you knew how much more ill it makes me feel when you challenge my ability as a mother (the one thing I believe I do right, with greater success than most despite my illness)....if only you knew how much it hurts when your support makes me feel judged and treated like an incompetent, irrational child.
Absolutely I understand your own personal fears, doubts, questions and concerns and that you do truly believe you are coming from a place of love and support. But reading one book, or perusing internet articles, witnessing an episode first hand or sharing a conversation or two with me or someone else who suffers from a mental illness does not make you an expert on my life. On what is best for me. Only I know myself best, and truthfully only I know what is best for my family....only I experience living with this illness every moment of every day that I face....so please, recognize that, recognize my strengths and my accomplishments, not only my weaknesses and my challenges.
Hold me, love me, support me, walk with me and experience all that this journey encompasses with me.......but remember each moment is but a brief synopsis in the life of someone who faces mental illness every moment....not just in that moment, whether it be a moment of weakness or strength. And remember, it is my story to share.....despite the illness I am capable and I will, and have, ask for support and your "suggestions/input" when I am ready to hear it. Because to tell me "what is best"...."what I should do".....or to threaten to take my control, my ability to make choices away.....only feeds the vicious cycle of my illness.
As a dear friend, who also faces the challenges of living with mental illness, said to me today....."nobody knows what we face on a daily basis, they will never completely understand".
How I wish you could.....
April 13 ~ 1
Well I made it through another day. My attempts to get a brief reprieve from the thoughts and emotions that plague nearly every moment of my day proved futile....because no matter how hard I try to escape they are always there. Yes, even in the recognition of the blessings of the day...a chance meeting with dear friends during a trip for ice cream in Steveston, the laughter of my daughter as she spins on the tire swing until she feels sick, the deep connection of friendship that my "teens" are so blessed with.....yes, there are moments of light, blessings no matter how small, within each day. So then why is it so hard to get a reprieve from the negative, destructive thoughts that consume my being? Nearly every moment in the day is filled with some kind of frustration, sadness or anxiety....whether it be directed at myself or at the many people who touch my life, especially those closest to me.
So yes, here I sit tapping away at my keyboard trying to make sense of yet another day where my spirit feels no sense of peace. Exhausted from "holding it together" for the day. Reflecting upon the little girl's dream in the movie "The Ultimate Gift".....to have a perfect day. What is that? What would that look like for me? Would I actually be able to feel a sense of peace for an entire day? Is that even possible for someone like me, who struggles to get through the day, let alone find a sense of peace within it?
Well...this weary mind, body and spirit needs rest....in order to face yet another day. Will I be fortunate enough to have a night where my mind isn't plagued by vivid nightmares and crazy dreams? One could only hope.......
So yes, here I sit tapping away at my keyboard trying to make sense of yet another day where my spirit feels no sense of peace. Exhausted from "holding it together" for the day. Reflecting upon the little girl's dream in the movie "The Ultimate Gift".....to have a perfect day. What is that? What would that look like for me? Would I actually be able to feel a sense of peace for an entire day? Is that even possible for someone like me, who struggles to get through the day, let alone find a sense of peace within it?
Well...this weary mind, body and spirit needs rest....in order to face yet another day. Will I be fortunate enough to have a night where my mind isn't plagued by vivid nightmares and crazy dreams? One could only hope.......
Saturday, April 12, 2008
April 12 ~ 1
Looking into the mirror, as I swallow my morning dose of Seroquel, I can't help but despise the image that looks back at me. The hollow, dark rimmed eyes that flash between expressing the internal anguish I feel and masking in order that my intense vulnerability not be shown. The dark red ravaging marks that cover my arms, my body...an expression of the pain that cuts so deep that even the truest expression of love and tenderness cannot take it away. These self-inflicted wounds from the recent day's struggles and the darkly pigmented marks that tell of the scars both externally and internally of days gone by disfigure my body. And then those horrendous pounds....the 20 or so....that the have been added to my body since starting the Seroquel two weeks ago. How quickly they came on, as if trying to build a barrier to protect what lies within myself....but yet, I am ready....truly ready to try and let down that barrier, so why? The rational side of me knows from my research that it isn't uncommon for a person to gain 20 - 60 pounds while on this medication that is supposed to help stabilize this mental anguish. What a side affect.....those of us tortured by the mental anguish, the destructive "record" that plays in our minds all day long, already struggle greatly with accepting self image....and then to gain such weight, only feeds that vicious cycle, the lack of a positive self image.
Today the sun shines....how I wish it would lift my spirits, beckon to me like it does to my daughter who is thrilled at the prospect of wearing her new pair of shorts and t-shirt and who can hardly wait to feel the warmth of the suns rays on her body, lifting her spirits as she embraces the day. The excitement of being able to go outside and run and play freely at the playground brings her great joy. And here I sit in stark contrast to her uplifted spirits....feeling the weight on my spirit....not sure I even want to face the day, let alone run freely basking in the warmth of the suns rays. The record plays in my head, you are not good enough, you are not strong enough, you are broken and nobody will ever understand, you are evil and should be extinguished. I compel myself to fight the barrage of thoughts and feelings in order to attempt to face the day with some minute sense of normalcy. Running errands calls to me, the knowledge that the sun may once again be extinguished by the darkness and rain encourages me to step outside of the confines of these walls, this place of darkness and do the monotonous task of raking leaves and cleaning up the back yard. Will it be enough....will I get a brief reprieve from the intensity of my thoughts and emotions in the monotony of the day's tasks?
Today the sun shines....how I wish it would lift my spirits, beckon to me like it does to my daughter who is thrilled at the prospect of wearing her new pair of shorts and t-shirt and who can hardly wait to feel the warmth of the suns rays on her body, lifting her spirits as she embraces the day. The excitement of being able to go outside and run and play freely at the playground brings her great joy. And here I sit in stark contrast to her uplifted spirits....feeling the weight on my spirit....not sure I even want to face the day, let alone run freely basking in the warmth of the suns rays. The record plays in my head, you are not good enough, you are not strong enough, you are broken and nobody will ever understand, you are evil and should be extinguished. I compel myself to fight the barrage of thoughts and feelings in order to attempt to face the day with some minute sense of normalcy. Running errands calls to me, the knowledge that the sun may once again be extinguished by the darkness and rain encourages me to step outside of the confines of these walls, this place of darkness and do the monotonous task of raking leaves and cleaning up the back yard. Will it be enough....will I get a brief reprieve from the intensity of my thoughts and emotions in the monotony of the day's tasks?
Friday, April 11, 2008
Welcome.....
to my world....to my mind, heart and my spirit.
I feel blessed that your own personal journey has led you to my page....my very personal online journal. I am thankful that you are willing to take the time to read, to join me and to learn more about a medical condition that affects millions of us in North America alone, yet is so rarely ever spoken about except in negative connotations, pictorials and stories.
Having made it through today makes me a survivor....because yes, every day to some extent is a struggle for me to make it through.
As you read my story you will be provided not only with factual statistics, but also with a "real life" account of what it is like to live with mental illness. It is something that many of us face and struggle with on a daily basis, not only as the person who has a mental illness but also for the many friends and family members who love and support, despite the challenges, someone they care about who has a mental illness.
I openly welcome your comments, your input, your insight and your own personal accounts....please feel free to comment anytime or to email me at the address provided in my profile.
Thank you for taking the time to enter into my world, my online journal....I look forward to sharing my story with you.
Welcome.....
I feel blessed that your own personal journey has led you to my page....my very personal online journal. I am thankful that you are willing to take the time to read, to join me and to learn more about a medical condition that affects millions of us in North America alone, yet is so rarely ever spoken about except in negative connotations, pictorials and stories.
Having made it through today makes me a survivor....because yes, every day to some extent is a struggle for me to make it through.
As you read my story you will be provided not only with factual statistics, but also with a "real life" account of what it is like to live with mental illness. It is something that many of us face and struggle with on a daily basis, not only as the person who has a mental illness but also for the many friends and family members who love and support, despite the challenges, someone they care about who has a mental illness.
I openly welcome your comments, your input, your insight and your own personal accounts....please feel free to comment anytime or to email me at the address provided in my profile.
Thank you for taking the time to enter into my world, my online journal....I look forward to sharing my story with you.
Welcome.....
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