Joy lies in the fight, in the attempt, in the suffering involved, not in the victory itself

(Ghandi)

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

On the corner of my street is a big house with an impressive rose garden, with bushes that froth over the wall and into the street. I've taken to stopping as I pass and smell the roses, how cliched. They are all colours, each has a slightly different scent. The reason I share this with you now is that a week ago I didn't even notice them, would walk straight past either crying, frowning or lamenting my fate, or all three at once. But since I followed Doc A's advice and faced my fears, going back to work and sticking it out, things have taken a turn for the better. It really did have a flow-on effect. Friday night I resisted the lure of Lloyd, who was texting me wanting me to go out with him and offer him my usual support and adoration. I felt like I am finally moving on from the maniacal obsession...

I saw Doc A yesterday and he said to me "Patients as aware as you rarely exist in therapy" and "You're so brave, I'm proud of you". Even though I take his validations with a BPD-grain-of-salt, I was chuffed that he said them. I felt like I'd earned them, having been thoroughly sick and terrified of returning to work after my enforced week's mental leave but doing it anyway. And doing it without tears, panic, or escape plans.

I had good news to share with Doc A, and to share here with y'all now. The date with Colin on Sunday was really, really nice. It's a dull word, that doesn't do the event justice, but it kind of describes it. No drama, no meanness, no embarrassment, just solid, easy conversation with a mature and interesting man. I managed to be friendly and outgoing without using my full-on BPD-overdrive Mary Poppins persona - which is a major victory. And yes, he called. And yes, we have a second date on Saturday. And yes, I am happy. Thankfully, it feels more like rebuilding than emotional BPD mood bouncing.

Friday, April 16, 2010

when the first cup of coffee tastes like washing up she knows she's losing it

As the last couple of posts will attest, I am struggling just now. I took a week off from work, annual leave / mental health leave, and went to see Doc A a few times to try and work out how to get back on track. What I thought was my illness, or a general breakdown, he blames entirely on my focus on Lloyd and the dysfunctional relationship we're in. While I admit that there's a lot of energy being sent the way of the Unsuitable Boy, it's hard to comprehend that he/my reactions to him are entirely to blame for the shitty way I feel. When I am with him, I'm happy(ish); we've been spending a lot of time together over the last week as he was in hospital and needed my help (always a bad sign, as I am incapable of resisting the lure of someone who needs me...).

Doc A flatly refused to write me a medical certificate for disability. He basically said I could sack him and find a new doctor, but as far as he is concerned I am not incapable of working, I just need to focus more energy towards work and less towards the Unsuitable Boy. SIGH. I know he is right. His theory makes sense to me -- I am preoccupied with the friendship-that-can't-be-more, and the constant disappointment he gives me. Doc A pointed out that the main fear of a Borderline is rejection/abandonment, and the way my relationship with Lloyd is, that is all I ever get from him. Because I love him, and he doesn't feel the same, any time I spend with him is a constant reminder of those failings.

I am back at work today, shaky and worried, but I am here.

I am trying to minimise the Lloyd Effect, and have a date with a nice man named Colin on Sunday. Doc A suggests that I keep trying to work on functional, positive, rewarding relationships as it will help me to move on from The Unsuitable Boy. Intellectually, I am completely aware that Lloyd is wrong for me, and in fact is an arrogant, selfish SOB. But my heart has made a connection that won't just go away. Obviously it has to go away... yet it's not an easy transition. I have decided to try and limit contact with him as much as possible, try to minimise the addiction/craving (as Doc A describes it!!).

Thank you everyone for your lovely and supportive comments lately, it's really made things better. I am continuing to fight the good fight - and with your help, my medication, some DBT and Doc A I will make it to a happier place! I am determined, my friends xx

Thanks to Belle & Sebastian for the title of today's post, it's from their song "She's Losing It"

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

it's life, Jim, but not as we know it

Pitiful update on pathetic life.

I am struggling to even string a sentence together these days, which is why I've been absent from this page. I'm here now to reassure those of you who have noticed the absence that I am still fighting. Still waving, not drowning.

I am half-leftover-in-love with the Unsuitable Boy, who continues to string me along one text message at a time. Consciously, I know we are wrong for each other, and intellectually I understand the complex reasons why I can't let go. He is one of the only people I've ever met who is crazier than I am, he makes me feel normal, I don't have to do my fake "Mary Poppins" persona with him and be cheerful/chirpy, I feel empathetic and compassionate towards him for his past. None of these things are foundation-for-relationship. The deal-breakers between us are many, but they make little or no impression on the sad and sorry part of me that just wants to be with him rather than without him.

Work situation is dire, I am crippled with boredom and apathy and as poor as the proverbial church mouse. Time is approaching when I make my yearly foray into the job market. I seem to only be able to manage 12 months at a job (the last three positions have been almost exactly one year). I need more money, greater stimulus, perhaps a wider range of social opportunity. Men. My workplace is 100% female, and sometimes I fear I may suffocate from the estrogen.

I have an appointment with a community financial counsellor this week, attempting to stave off the bankruptcy that has threatened me since my breakdown and loss of employment last year. When I left my husband I inherited a large debt that I've struggled to pay off, and with the added issue of only working part-time, and being badly paid, the debt has spawned other, lesser debts, that now threaten to engulf me. I am trying, so hard, to keep paying everything and keep food on the table. It makes me so very very tired.

This is one of those posts people will wish they never read lol. It all has to be said, for I would never want to self-censor, but I apologise for the lack of cheer. Bleak and dark days, my friends. But I continue to struggle against the black dog.