MY JOURNEY THROUGH BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER, DEPRESSION, AND ANXIETY.
Am I awake, or am I asleep
Lost in a dream, floating within
Whispers from all around
Telling me it’s time to wake up
Is that voice real or just an illusion
Am I really in a dream, asleep
Or am I awake where reality doesn’t exist
Am I dead, or am I alive
Am I still breathing
Seeing the body, but there’s no soul
Is this my voice, or just an echo I hear
I don’t know what’s real, what’s not
I don’t know where I am
I don’t know if I am
One of the criteria in the DSM for Borderline PD:
9. TRANSIENT, STRESS-RELATED PARANOID IDEAS OR SEVERE DISSOCIATIVE SYMPTOMS.
I posted a “poem” the other day (can’t remember when exactly), and removed it at some point. I kept thinking that the person that post was inspired by would somehow come across it. Actually, I was convinced that would be the case.
How do I know when I’m in a highly stressed and mental health crisis state? That right there. The paranoid thoughts. Lots of them, most of which don’t actually even make sense. Heavy dissociation too. Where I can’t remember certain times of the day. It’s either a blur or a complete blank. That’s how this weekend has been for me.
Shutting myself away from the world has seemed like the only way to stay safe. I got an invitation to go out with one of the woman from group and her friends yesterday, but the thought of being with a group of people I have never met before filled me with extreme anxiety. Even the thought got me close to a panic attack. The next instant though, I just shut down. A numbness set in. Apathy. “No, I don’t want to see anyone. I don’t care about anything anymore.” Another reason I didn’t want to go out with this particular person is because being around her for too long tends to drain me. And it was going to be a full day outing. So I don’t think I would have gone even if I had been feeling fine.
I don’t feel safe. Meaning, I feel a constant threat hanging around me. The world feels dangerous. People feel dangerous right now. I went to the shop yesterday to get some stuff, and PTSD traits were raging.
I can’t begin to explain how I felt yesterday. All I can say is that it felt like torture. I just wanted to peel the skin from my body, slice my head open and remove my brain, kind of torture. I thought I was going crazy. I tried to distract myself and do some self-soothing, but that didn’t work too well either. I wanted a hug from my therapist. I feel safe with her. I wanted Elizabeth too, I missed her. But the relationship feels a little fragile and unstable at the moment, so maybe it’s good that we didn’t see one another this weekend (I’m seeing her tonight at least though). I’ve been feeling really lonely. What I wouldn’t give to just have someone around when I’m going through these “crisis” moments. I read blogs by some of you about how wonderful a certain person was during a moment like this, and how much it helped, and I must admit… I get a little sad and jealous when I read these things. I’m glad some people have that, I just wish I could experience this too.
I’m still feeling fragile today, but it’s not as bad as it was over the weekend, which I’m grateful for.
There are just so many things going on. I wish I could sleep for a few weeks (been struggling to sleep lately). Life is exhausting right now.
Is going to group a habit now? It seems that way. Yesterday was a public holiday, and with me being in the dissociative slump I’ve been in today, it would have been understandable had I forgotten it was group night. But no, I found myself there buying a cappuccino. One minute with my laptop on my lap in my room, the next buying a cappuccino at the clinic coffee shop. Well done! I’ve figured out why I was still able to get to group and be responsible with my mental health upkeep while not fully being “Rayne”, but that revelation is for another day… And maybe just for my therapist, I haven’t decided yet.
I was dissociated for the first one and a half hours, and then slowly started to become grounded during the last half hour. Last week I had left group just after the break, because I started dissociating quite heavily and was unable to ground myself. For some reason I thought it best to go home before it got too bad, but in hindsight, it would have been better to stay. I can’t remember anything after having gotten up and walking outside the clinic toward my car, and before finding myself eating my supper in bed. Having lived with this kind of thing for as long as I can remember, I know to always check the time once I come around and realize I’ve lost time. So I did drive straight home from group.
I need to get to bed now, but will write more about this tomorrow if I’m able to. My posts of late have been a bit cryptic, and I think I’m now able to write about what’s been going on.
Oh, and I had an amazing (almost-completely-dissociation-and-mental health crisis-free) day with Elizabeth yesterday “celebrating” our first month together as a couple. Despite my mental health being what it has been lately, our relationship just keeps growing and getting better, and I truly feel lucky.
My mental health has deteriorated since having come off my mood stabilizer. I don’t feel like I’ve got a grasp on who I am today. I’m not one, I’m two, so closely bound, yet so very different.
“Where are you today? You look weird, like you’re on a whole other planet.”
Yes dad. I don’t know where I am today. I don’t feel I am. I’m going home to sleep. Bye.
I started writing an article for a mental health website, and wanted to find the correct term for something I experience. I did my research, and something happened. It opened up a lot of questions and has led to some confusion. I’ve also started reading a book on a completely different topic, and it’s also opened up a lot of things. Two seemingly unrelated things that might actually relate.
I’m sitting here getting frustrated trying to explain what I’m on about. I can’t even make enough sense of it to write it. I’ve been going in and out of states/being… And it feels like there’s an inner war going on with “me”. I’m not sure who or where I am right now. So I’m going to leave this for another time.
Therapist is on leave so we can’t even talk to her. I need to talk to her. She’s the only one who knows me and has lots of my puzzle pieces. At least I think so.
You can read part one here.
The Sunday of that week, I was due to leave my mom’s place and drive almost two hours away, to the small town that I lived in with my ex-girlfriend (or fiance if you want to get technical) for almost 4 years. This place holds a lot of meaning for me. It was where I met my therapist. Little did I know that this therapist would help me find the courage to leave that toxic relationship that I should have ended three years earlier. But it would also mean that I’d have to leave her too. When she offered Skype sessions, I wanted to jump up and hug her (I was already attached by then). It was a really good call on her part. Thank you, therapist.
Sunday morning the four of us (me, my mom, her boyfriend, and my youngest sister) had planned to go for a quick morning outing before I left. When we got outside, my mom’s boyfriend’s car was gone! Stolen. My heart broke for him. He loved that car. He has such a good, kind heart, and goes above and beyond for people, and then shit like this happens. I was so pissed off! The car was ancient and falling apart, but he loved that car. I took him to the police station to give a statement, and when we got back, I thought of maybe just staying there again that evening, even though my B&B in my previous home town had already been booked and paid for. But my mom told me that there’s nothing I can do, so I should rather keep to my schedule. I knew she was right, but I was still hesitant to leave. The good news? A few hours after I got back to my mom’s place the next Tuesday, my uncle bought my mom’s boyfriend a new second-hand car! And this one was in great shape. He’s now made a plan to park this car in a safe and monitored place. It’s going to cost him every month, but it’s a small price to pay for security and piece of mind.
The drive to the town I was going to stay in for the next two nights went by so quickly. It’s usually such a boring drive of almost two hours, and seems to go on forever. But not this time. Even driving back to my mom’s place seemed to be over insanely quick, even though I was driving extra carefully (what with it being a rental car and all). Weird. Driving into the town felt like a kind of “coming home”. It was so nice seeing all those familiar places. The reason I went back there was to go pick up a box of my things that I had forgotten to take when my ex and I broke up. I also wanted to see my therapist in person again. A week before, I had asked my ex whether we could meet at a coffee shop and she could just bring the stuff, but she asked me to come to the house instead. I can’t remember the reason. I went straight to her house. I didn’t want to, because I knew I’d have to see the dogs. I didn’t want to see them ever again because I thought it would only break my heart. I didn’t know how I would feel seeing her again though.
When I got there, the dogs went crazy. They were barking and crying and jumping all over me. For the remainder of my stay, the baby sat on my lap, and the older one lay down against my leg on the couch. My ex hugged me when I got there, but I felt numb… The way I felt the whole time I was there. It was strange being there again. Everything looked different, yet the same. I don’t even know how that makes sense. The wall and frames that housed all our photo’s was still there. But all my pictures had been replaced. I was dissociating, but it’s exactly what I needed.
My ex made me coffee and we spoke a bit about life. A little while into the conversation, she asked whether I would be open to meeting her new girlfriend. I didn’t know how to answer that at first. But then she told me that she’s in the bedroom (I had no idea someone was even there), and wanted to meet me. So I agreed. The three of us spoke for a while. The two of them were very affectionate with one another during our conversation. I just remember thinking, “this is weird”. But I still wasn’t feeling any emotion. It’s as if all the feelings I logically knew were there, were lost in a deep, dark void. I told them that I need to check in at the B&B, so I’d better get going. They both hugged me goodbye, and my ex said “I thought this would be awkward, but it was actually pretty good”. Good to know.
The B&B was lovely. It was so peaceful there. My favourite part was the fountain, which was so soothing and relaxing. I can’t remember much from Sunday evening. All those feelings that I had shut down? They erupted the very next morning. The jealousy, the anger, the sadness. It just hurt. I was emotional the whole of Monday. I think the lack of sleep had also finally caught up to me. I had a session with my therapist later that afternoon, which was the highlight of my entire trip. But I’ll write more about that next time, as it deserves a post of its own, and ties in nicely with a topic that I’ve been wanting to write about for a while now.
On Monday evening I was in a very dark space. I didn’t want to be alive. But I wasn’t suicidal either. I think this place of being is worse than when I’m in the idealization or even the active “planning and preparing” suicidal state. Having a plan and preparing to act on it, brings a sense of peace, even with the intense pain, because you know it will all be over soon. But this weird in-between place is extremely frustrating. The kind of frustration that makes you want to peel your skin off, and scream. But as most of you know, I can’t scream out loud. That in itself is frustrating. I had been feeling suicidal that morning, and even during some of therapy, but it went away after that.
On Tuesday I overslept. So it was a mad rush to get ready and pack up in order to check out in time. That didn’t happen. I only managed to check out about 30 minutes after. Thankfully, the owner was very nice about it. I got myself a cup of coffee for the long drive ahead, and drove back to my mom’s place. I spent the night there, and this time my youngest sister wasn’t with us, so I slept a little better. I had to get up early in order to not miss my morning flight. The next morning, my mom’s boyfriend and I went to go get my car, which was parked a few streets away (the secure place). Since he didn’t have that new car yet at that point, we had to walk. Walking in that city at 06:30 in the morning is not wise. He wanted to go alone, but I didn’t want him to drive the rental car, so I went with him. We took our “weapons” with, and left all valuables at home. It was freezing, but I was warm by the time we got there. That was a fun little walk. I actually really enjoyed it. I felt so sad saying goodbye to my mom. I wish I could have taken her with me.
I had a few misadventures dropping the rental car off, and in the airport itself, but survived. Things that kept going wrong, and silly things I did (or didn’t do). I don’t know where my mind was that day. It up and left. The flight was really good again. Now I’m back home.
Up until Sunday morning, I had felt stuck in between two worlds. Like I wasn’t really here. But I wasn’t back there either. It’s a very confusing space to be in. It’s as if I needed to adapt to being back. But I don’t understand why that would be the case, because even when flying back from Sweden and Mauritius, I hadn’t had that experience. Maybe it has to do with having seen my ex again. Because since that Monday I’ve been dealing with a lot of feelings regarding her and the life we shared. Memories. Seeing her happy with someone else. Seeing how happy she is without me. I’m glad that she’s happy, I really am. But there’s also an element of pain inside.
It’s been so hard. And it still is. It feels like she’s haunting me. On Sunday afternoon I got a text from her, asking whether I was okay because it looked like I had lost a lot of weight since she last saw me (even my mom, aunt and sisters said the same thing- I hate it). I wanted to reply and say “so what, it’s not your concern anymore”, but I just couldn’t. I didn’t want to hurt her. She also apologized for “throwing *me* in with Girlfriend” and “but I know you still care, because you sucked it up. Thank you for being you”. I didn’t know what to say. She was being nice, and she apologized. So I forgave her for that little incident and thought it would be over now. So I just replied and told her that I’m glad she’s happy and has found love again. I wanted to close the book again with that final message. But then she just flung that door wide open. Telling me that she really believes this girl is “the one” (which she said about me as well), and that she hadn’t thought she could feel so much more for someone than she did for me. That “God” told her that this was the right girl. And for once in her life she felt sure about someone. My thoughts: “Well, did he also tell you not to throw things like that in your ex’s face?” There were smiley faces all over the messages. I had already been struggling after having seen her that Sunday, so these messages shattered me.
I’m feeling even worse than I did when I finally left the relationship early last year. I also keep seeing the last moment I saw her on that day. Our sad, last weekend together where we both knew what was coming, but tried to enjoy the remaining days together. She had broken up with me so many times in the last two years of our relationship, but the next day, she’d be all loving and sweet again, as if nothing had happened. It always confused me. Are we broken up? What’s happening? So I knew that if I didn’t end this relationship, we’d keep going around in circles.
I feel so abandoned by her. But I shouldn’t right? I’m the one who left her! But that’s the way I’m feeling, even if it doesn’t make logical sense. Maybe, without being consciously aware of it, I had held onto the sense of security that maybe I could go back if I wanted to. But seeing her again, so happy and content, ended that. She doesn’t need me anymore. All those times she was in pain and I held her. Those times where she was sick, and I looked after her. Now she has someone else to do that for her. To be there for her. That house that I’m so familiar with, now has someone else filling it with her presence. The dogs, one of them mine (but I didn’t want to split them up- and I couldn’t bring him with me anyway). “Someone else is sleeping in the bed that used to be mine. Doing everything that I used to do in my house”. Even though it was never mine. I had no idea I would feel this way. I go through so many different emotions. Back and forth.
I haven’t wanted to talk to anyone about this. About how I’m feeling. I feel this is something I need to deal with on my own. Like I always used to do. The difference this time is that I’m being gentle and compassionate with myself. A good blogger friend of mine recently wrote a beautiful post on empathy and validation. I really connected with it. Extending empathy and validation to ourselves. It’s easy to give that to others, but when it comes to myself, I treat myself really badly. So I’m trying to change that.
I keep reminding myself that it won’t hurt forever. That it’s going to fade again. But for now, I just need to deal with it as best I can, and be kind to myself.
My therapist asked me on Monday whether there was any unfinished business with my ex and I said no. But now? I don’t know what this is.
I went to bed relatively early last night. I had just taken a Xanax, which I take in the place of sleeping tablets. I’ve got a box of prescription sleeping pills, but the Xanax has been effective in helping me sleep, so I haven’t needed to use them. It’s been a while since I took Xanax, as I only take it when I’ve had a week of bad sleep and just can’t function anymore. Then I take one every night for about 3 nights, to try to catch up on that sleep.
This morning at about 10am, I was woken up by my step-mom knocking on the door (usually she just walks in without knocking). She wanted me to go grocery shopping for them, and continued explaining something. I can’t remember anything else she said, other than “go shopping” so I had to phone her before I went. When I just wake up and therefore, still half asleep, don’t talk to me, because I’ll probably miss 99% of what was said. And I become irritable. The only time I won’t be moody when someone wakes me up, is if it’s done gently. But even then, give me time to wake up properly before starting a conversation.
When I looked at the time this morning, I saw that I had slept for 11 hours! That’s not me, I don’t think I’ve ever slept for so long. I don’t know how that had happened. If my step-mom hadn’t woken me up, how much longer would I have slept? I took a nap this afternoon as well, which lasted two hours. I woke up often though, but was too tired to get up, and would fall asleep again. I’m still exhausted. I’ve never slept so much in my life, even when depressed. Actually, when I’m depressed, and exhausted, my insomnia is worse. I just want to lie in bed whole day, but I struggle to actually sleep. I don’t feel particularly depressed, so I don’t think it’s that.
I had a dream last night, and I must have woken up at some point, but I have no recollection of that. I read (or heard) somewhere that we remember our dreams when we wake up from one… If we don’t wake up after the dream, we don’t remember it. I don’t know how true that is though.
In this dream I was holding a newborn baby against my chest. I had her wrapped up in a blanket, inside the jacket I was wearing, so I knew she was warm. She was very quiet, and seemed to be sleeping. But then I got the sense that something wasn’t quite right. Why wasn’t she crying? Why did she feel so cold against me, when I knew she’s actually warm? All of a sudden I felt her take this deep breath, as though she hadn’t had oxygen for a while. She started crying. I knew that she was hungry. Starving actually. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to feed her, but I didn’t have any bottles or formula. I thought maybe I can breastfeed her, but realized that I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I tried searching for a bottle, or something that I could feed her with, but my efforts were unsuccessful.
I tried to get the attention of my dad and first step-mom, who were locked in a physical fight, and screaming and swearing at one another. I tried to ask them to help me find a bottle and get formula for her. But they were ignoring me, as though I didn’t even exist. Like they couldn’t see or hear me. I felt stuck. What do I do now? Then suddenly I was in a crowded place, with people all around me. But my cries for help with this baby went unheard. I tried everything to soothe her, but it wasn’t helping. That’s all I remember from this dream. I felt a little unsettled by this dream for a few hours after waking up.
It’s been a strange day. I feel like I’m in a zone that I don’t know how to get out of. I was a bit dissociated at some points during the day, but used my self-soothe box to help ground me. It worked, but I still felt different inside. Not knowing how I’m feeling. It’s not a sense of emptiness either. I just don’t know.
I’m glad this day is over, and for a change I’m actually looking forward to sleeping.
Goodnight everyone.
