All is Not Well …

I have not written in a long time. And I really don’t want to now, but something compelled me to log on. So, here I am.

I have not been well.  The last day I recall being okay was November 10, 2016.  On November 11 of that year, I was betrayed again. By the person who swore to never lie to me or intentionally hurt me again.  His choice to lie to me set me on a downward spiral that I have never fully recovered.  It seems from that event everything just fell out-of-place and I have not been able to find myself again.  Yes, it’s been over a year.  But one thing leads to another, and stuff keeps building up.

Having Borderline Personality Disorder is more than difficult.  It is exhausting on a daily basis.  My emotions have been so out of control.  I go from rage, sadness, despair, feeling completely lost, numb, hopeless, exhausted, angry, abandoned, depressed … the list is endless.  And the feelings are a constant change, but I always feel turmoil in myself.

I thought I was doing better, but that was really a joke.  I feel worse than I have in a very long time.  From that one stupid event in November 2016, to now, my life has been a constant sit back.  The deep emotional roller coaster has left me feeling lifeless and unable to cope.

Add to that the fact that my son joined the Army and left for Basic Training on November 12th of this year.  He is 19 years old.  And he is my heart.  He is the only person in my life that has never hurt me.  So as a borderline, you can understand what that means to me.  He is my safety.  My favorite.  My person.  We are very close, and I miss him terribly.  He was finally able to call me this week for a five-minute phone call.  Hearing his voice, my heart!  But he is injured, and I hurt for him.  I am scared for him.  I cry for him.  I pray for him.

Mail with the military is very slow.  He had not received any of my letters, nor had I received any of his at the time of his phone call.  It has been hard.  I write to him with inspirational quotes, tell him how proud I am of him, and that he is destined for great things in his life.  Funny how I can lift him up, but I cannot dig myself out of this hole.  But isn’t that how BPD works?  Such a messed up mental illness.

So, I sit here typing with a stomach that would love to purge its contents, but there are none.  I barely eat.  I have trouble sleeping.  I cannot focus on tasks.  I cannot function.  I have not been able to in a very long time (even prior to my son leaving).  I look sick.  I have lost a lot of weight.  I get frequent headaches and nausea.  I don’t feel well.  I have had been to the doctor.  I have had blood work done.  I went through a phase of intense physical pain and was certain there was something wrong with me.  There is not, other than I have BPD and it controls my life currently.  I have been at the bottom of this pit for over a year now.  I try every day to make something of it.  I am successful on occasion, but not very often.

There are things I want to do and I cannot seem to get my shit together enough to do anything.  I have slipped into a state of depression, that is probably one of the worst ones I have ever dealt with.  I pace around the house, hoping to start a task.  I sit down.  I stare.  I get up and pace.  The hours go by and nothing is done.  I don’t even know what I think about most of the time.  If someone were to ask me, I don’t know how I would answer it.  I don’t remember.  I am lost in this void … in a place that is neither here nor there.

All Is Not Well …

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The Tornado In My Head

For some reason my sick mind felt it necessary to revisit an old hurt. A very deep one. Why? Why do I do this to myself? Just like the quote says, there is a monster in my head. It seeks me, and takes hold. It replays visions, conversations and pain over and over until I cannot take it anymore.

It causes me to lash out, and be hurtful. It causes me more pain than I already have.  It causes anger, rage, panic, fear, sadness, and it torments me.  And then, you wake up another day, and wonder why? What the hell just happened? Where did that come from?

The tornado is gone. The monster is asleep. For now.

 

Hello Borderline!

I knew it was coming, it was just a matter of when. I have been steadily getting angrier, less patient, and really irritable.

Today was the day! I am not stuck in bed in a fetal position, but I am at my whit’s end with most everyone.

I really just want to scream at the top of my lungs, throw things and let out this rage that is building inside me.

I am exhausted. I have been physically ill for about a month now. I have no idea why, and will have to go get blood work done soon. It feels like a mono relapse.

I am tired of people taking advantage of me. I am tired of lazy people not doing their share of the work. I am tired of judgmental people and wish they would shut the hell up! You try to do something nice, and someone always seems to have a smart mouth comment to make. I am TIRED! I am FED UP!

I am DAMNED IF I DO and DAMNED IF I DON’T …

It’s Been a While …

 

I haven’t made a post about myself in a while. I have become overwhelmed in completing a project. It has kept me focused, and for the most part I have felt well. I actually felt stable for longer than usual. (Notice the use of “felt”).

I have been staying up late, and spending many hours each day trying to complete my huge project. I haven’t been eating well, and I am literally exhausted. Yet, as usual, I cannot rest. I mean that in the sense of not being able to watch TV, or read, or do something relaxing. I am finding it very hard to just type this.

My body aches. I have been getting nauseated every day. I am starting to have high anxiety again. It had lessened for a short time. My nerves are on edge, and little things are bothering me. People are bothering me, certain ones in particular.

I am sensing the on-set of an episode, but I am hoping to be able to keep it at bay. I feel my rage building, and at this time it is focused on my husband. I could blow at any time.
Sometimes he just annoys the shit out of me!

My chest is heavy, my limbs are heavy. I get cold, I get hot. I cannot eat, even though I know I need to. My sense of peace is leaving, rapidly. I knew it had been too good for too long. I knew it would show up at any moment, I was just hoping against odds that it wouldn’t.

That is the mystery of being Borderline. You just never know when it will hit and why. But one thing you can count on is that it will hit. It doesn’t leave you alone for too long. It seems to sense when you are doing well, and has to knock you down to remind you it is there.

I am bracing myself, because it is coming!

Getting Faith … In The Form of A Dog

Sometimes our prayers are answered in the strangest ways.  Last year, towards the end of August, I was not well. I prayed. I prayed a lot. I prayed for hope, faith, to feel better, to release me of panic and anxiety and numerous other things.

I was a registered foster through an animal rescue. I had fostered several puppies and dogs over the past several months. I had just lost my beloved 18-year-old chihuahua, earlier in the month, and I was sad.

Little did I know, my prayer for faith would be answered. Oddly, it was in the form of a dog. A chihuahua, that needed a foster. Below is her story, from the person that found her.

“At The Feet of Jesus”
This little chihuahua was seen being thrown out of a moving vehicle last week at my apartments. Somehow, she migrated to DBU and has been staying by this statue for days, refusing to leave. No one could catch her or get close to her, but she stayed at that statue of Jesus faithfully. With the help of Vienna sausages, I got her to eat from my hand, but she still wouldn’t let me touch her. Last night, as I was feeding her, a friend set up a trap that we borrowed, and this morning, we discovered it had worked. This little chihuahua who was too afraid to get close to people, within a matter of 30 minutes, is wagging her tail, licking my face, trying to play, and following me everywhere. This rescue taught me something about life. Sometimes people or circumstances really break our hearts… Sometimes we feel lost, scared, lonely, and confused. This leads to uncertainty and fear. No matter what our state is, however… No matter what has happened to us in life… if we will seek out Jesus and rest at His feet, and just be so focused on being near to Him, He will send us the help we need and He will bring redemption into our lives. He will replace the hurt and rejection with healing and acceptance. Where are you today? Are you feeling lost or heartbroken? Rest at the feet of Jesus and find peace in His promise to redeem you .

The picture above is where Faith was found. After being rescued, it was discovered that she was pregnant. She gave birth to four puppies. She nurtured them, and was then ready for her own home.

When I first got Faith (named by the person that rescued her), I had no intentions of adopting her. I was going to keep her safe and loved until she found her forever home. This 16 pound, full of attitude and sass, dog decided I was her people. She was home. She was my faith. I found pleasure, love, and peace with her by my side.

Faith had trust issues due to her past. I could definitely relate to that. Together, we learned to trust each other. Our love for one another continued to grow. Faith grew more comfortable in her new surroundings as each day passed.  She blossomed. She made me laugh. When I was to take her to an adoption event, I knew that I could not let her go. She was mine.

She has an attitude. She is bossy. She is demanding. She is quirky. She is loyal. She is my “Faith” and she is loved. Her life is important, and she got a second chance to feel love, security and trust, probably for the very first time. And I got a new family member to love until the end of her days.

So, when searching for answered prayers, don’t overlook something that might seem a little crazy. God works in mysterious ways, and knows what we need. I needed Faith. Faith needed me. We were led to each other when we were both in need.

He Doesn’t Know Me Anymore …

And I don’t know him. Is that what happens to people who have been betrayed? Betrayed by the very one that was supposed to cherish and protect you?

It seems unfair. To lose the essence of a deep connection, an emotional bond, because someone chooses to hurt you. I always hear, “I didn’t mean to hurt you”,  “I did it to protect you”. Lying is not protecting me. Lying is what killed my soul.

I used to believed in fairy tales and princesses. I believed this because it was what my life felt like, at one time.  To be knocked off your pedestal, by learning of someone’s betrayal of your trust, is a long, hard fall.  To realize you were never that special after all, is a bitter pill to swallow.

Perhaps it is part of the mental illness, to have felt like I was put on pedestal.  Apparently, it was a portrait I created in my own mind. That picture is nothing but a shattered image now. It mocks me at times. It laughs at how silly I was to believe such things. Fairy tales aren’t true. Certainly I knew this. After all, I was an adult.

Betrayal … it cuts you to the core. The continued lies to try to protect themselves, after you find out. It changes you. How can it not? To lose the one thing you clung to so tightly, have it ripped right out of you. It leaves a deep wound. A wound that likes to open itself up, and stay raw.

I mourn the loss of that deep connection. I have mourned it for many years. Losing the one thing, you never thought you would have, takes a piece of you, never to be replaced. It leaves an emptiness. A loneliness.

You are left to question every thing. What is true and what is not. How many other lies are there? Do I even want to know? Yes! I want honesty. I want to hear it, all of it. The good, the bad and the ugly. It is the only way I can move on. Why does he not understand this?

I am here, yet I feel as though he looks through me like a pane of glass. He doesn’t see me, he doesn’t know me anymore. How can he? I don’t even know myself anymore. Things are not as they were. They never will be. You can glue a shattered piece back together, but there is forever the evidence of the cracks.

It is in those cracks, that I always get lost. Wondering, searching, needing to know.

You Always Win … (Trigger Warning)

I can’t shake the overwhelming feeling that “The Darkness” wants me. It’s been knocking on my door for a while now. Today, I opened the door to let my mind stop fighting it.  The anxiety and panic have been over-the-top for a week or more. I cannot keep it down, and I am tired of fighting.

Hello old friend! I see you have searched me out and won. You always do! You always win.
Keeping me in your grasp until you feed yourself with my despair.  How long will you feed on me this time? Will you leave when I am completely broken?

I put up a good fight, keeping you at bay. But, you wore me down. You do that, keep eating at me until I give up.

I tried to meet you head on today. I gave you the blood, but I know it isn’t enough. You want more.

My heart is racing. My chest is heavy. My body aches. I am dizzy and I am tired. I am mostly tired. Fighting you leaves me exhausted. You like that, don’t you? You know my exhaustion makes it easier for you. You strip me down, leaving only raw emotion, where it hurts me the most.

You are faceless, but I feel you when you are near. You make me shiver, leaving cold air on my skin. You take my emotions, my soul. You take any little bit of what I have left and try to smother me.

You want me to yourself. I know one day you will succeed; because you always win. You come out of nowhere, and hit me. Oh, there are little nudges first. But when you get tired of me fighting you, you knock me down.

I know you well. We have lived together for some time now. You are always lurking in the shadows. You are waiting for that moment, when it has been too long. When you sense I am vulnerable.

You are like a vulture, a big black bird, waiting. You fill me with shame, anger, self-loathing, sadness and despair. You like to bring up all the old hurt, and throw it in my face. You like my rage. It makes you happy. You are greedy.

I Am More Than My Illness …

Although I struggle daily with my mental illness, I am more than that. It does not totally define me as a person. Yes, it alters my thinking at times. But I have passions, talents, and hobbies.

I am a volunteer and foster for an animal rescue. I have strong opinions about animal neglect and abuse. If your idea of having a dog is to only to keep it chained up outdoors, please do not own a pet.

Animals are designed to be social. They need to be around people, and to feel love and give love. They need to be treated as part of your family. Pets are good for your soul.

I like to draw and paint. I am not very good, but I love it still. I need to spend more time doing this. I used to get lost in it, but a lot of things have changed. I like to paint on reclaimed word, such as old fencing. I like to decorate frames, boxes, etc. using vintage jewelry. However, that can become extremely tedious.

I love to read. The problem lately is that I have a hard time focusing. Getting lost in a book is something you cannot explain. Only other readers would understand. You can mentally be taken to any place, and feel as if you are there. You can be whomever you wish to be.

I began to journal a few years ago. At some point I stopped. However, I have recently began to blog, and although I have a lot to learn, I enjoy it. I find it to be a good outlet for me.

I just wanted to let people know there is more to me than being mentally ill. Just like there is more to anyone with a mental illness. It may upset some of our days, or even weeks. But underneath all the fog, we are people with much to offer. Sometimes you have to open the oyster to find the pearl inside.

 

 

Like a Tidal Wave …

I just cannot shake this anxiety, and these panic attacks. They are happening often. Daily. I will be fine, and then BAM! Out of no where I am swept away!

It is here now, sitting on my chest, making me dizzy. I want it to go away. I want it to stay away.

I want peace. I want normal. But all I have is chaos and this damn mental illness.

Sweep me away from it, wash me out with the waves! Keep me under the current, and let me have peace!

Losing Time … The Clock Seems To Be on High

 

It feels as if time gets away from me. Where do the hours, minutes, seconds go? The world must be spinning out of control, and time is slipping away, faster and faster.

I do not have to be anywhere. I do not have to worry about time, yet it seems to run my life. I want more hours in the day. I don’t have enough minutes in the day to complete all the tasks I want to do.

I get side-tracked. I have so many plans, and things I want to do each day. Yet, I look up and the day is gone. Where did it go? What have I accomplished? Is it really time for dinner? Wasn’t it just morning a few minutes ago?

Why I am a prisoner of the clock eludes me. When I worked outside of the home, time seemed to creep by. Eight hours seemed like a lifetime. Now, it feels like time runs on high, skipping minutes, hours, days.

I want more time. I want to be able to do more things I enjoy. I want to paint, write, and read. My daily tasks, that I must do to keep myself in a routine, have to be complete. If not, I have failed for the day.

Part of my Borderline Personality Disorder has caused me to have a sense of OCD. Things have to be done, order must be followed. It is structure that keeps me grounded. Without it, I would live in complete chaos. I do not like chaos. It causes anxiety. Anxiety and I are not friends, although it seems to like to visit me often.

My days seem to fly by. Where did all seven days go? Has something changed to cause time to flash by like a lightning strike? The clock is my enemy, I don’t want to look at it. Yet, it runs my life.

Maybe I will hide all the clocks. I won’t look at the time. I will just be, and do what I want when I want.

Right! I am going to set my alarm in the morning, so I can gain some more time!