and i'll be willin' to be movin'

Surreal though it is, I am all moved in. I feel kind of like a teenager leaving for college, without the frat parties and pillow fights, and with three nervous breakdowns and a mess of medications on my resume. In short, it's scary. No money, no family support, no hitching a lift wherever I want to go. I'm ashamed to admit that in my former daily routine my mom doled out everyone's various medications and vitamin supplements, including mine, and this morning when I had to lay out my own meds I thought I was going to cry. Pathetic!! The thing is, I KNOW I have to suck it up and cope, and I know that once I get used to flying solo it will be fun and exhilirating and inspiring (the way it used to be, back before the Mr Ex days). But this adjustment period is tough, you know? Being with Michelle is awesome, so that's one benefit, and this morning I got to work in less than half the time it usually takes. This is me, Lil, focusing on the positives...

Anyway, I am happy with how things are in the new place, everything fits (kind of) and everything looks good (mostly). Basically I have FAR TOO MUCH CRAP, and am planning to cull some of it over the next couple of months. One of the problems with living in large houses, as I've done for ten years, is that I never threw anything out -- consequently, I found a lot of things while unpacking that I thought "What??" Stupidly, one of the things I found was my quarter-written book about I. Oliver, and even more stupidly I re-read the thing and no doubt that contributed to my slightly dark mood. Decent writing, but such a sad time in my life.

We don't have internet connection at home yet, so I am having to check emails, blog, etc from work, so forgive me if I'm not around as much. I also am having issues commenting on Blogger blogs, for some strange reason - it comes up saying error on page. Hannah and Ruby Tuesday, I particularly wanted to send big loves to you both but have been unable ): I also can't seem to comment on my own posts, hence the clumsy edit situation on my previous post. Is this why people have been abandoning Blogger for Wordpress?? Can't say I blame them, as it's driving me to distraction.

(Linda Rondstadt - "Willin'")

"Star" Of The Week

In case the cheerleader didn't give it away - I got the job! My dream job, helping out with events and admin for a literacy charity, starts on Tuesday and I couldn't be more thrilled. In contrast to my last ill-fated new job, which I was dreading and felt nervous about, I can't wait to get started at DF. I went there today to sign the paperwork and meet everyone -- the clincher for me is that there are no men working there! As much as I love blokes (love them too much, to my detriment haha), I think that having them in my workplace has been a major distraction for me. No doubt I will be lamenting their absence soon!! When I get bored and cast my eyes around the office for some eye candy...

Although it sounds trite, I have been desperately wanting a job that gave something back to the community. It's something I've talked about to my friends and family for the last year, and this opportunity is wonderful. I love reading, am passionate about it, and helping people to read is a dream come true. Also, the job will use my wide range of skills - unlike other jobs I've had which focused more on either PR/marketing or office admin, this one has both aspects. I'm excited for the first time in months.

Last night I picked up my birthday present (a month early!), which was my new ten pin bowling ball.

It may be a coincidence but the first frame I bowled was 60 pins over average (which qualifies for a Star of The Week Certificate lol). I've only been bowling since January but I truly love it, even at my lowest points this year I've managed to get to league and smile and have fun. I owe my friend Michelle EVERYTHING for introducing me to ten pin - our team is called No Deal and we have heaps of goofy sayings and signals. Crazy, but fun. My parents and Mr Ex clubbed together to buy my new ball - they rock! I've named her "Pinky".

So all in all, a great couple of days. I'm hoping to get to the gym tomorrow and do some grocery shopping. Looking after the family is tricky, but I'm finding organisation helps (menu planning, timetables, etc!!) Two adults (plus me), four cats and a dog are all being fed and medicated correctly and on time. In some ways, I'm finding having the extra responsibility is a good motivator. If I don't drag my arse out of bed and cook dinner then everyone goes hungry, not just me. Mum called and she is having a terrific time, which is great - I'm so happy I managed to keep it together long enough for her to feel she could leave us all without me cracking up. If she'd missed out on this trip because of my illness I would have been devastated. I hope she brings me back something cool from Laos! I collect snow globes but somehow I don't think they have a lot of those in the Golden Triangle...

From The Margin

I had one of those Free To Be Me days, where I was fully aware I inhabited the margins of society and was happy to be there. It's a long weekend here, for Anzac Day (war service commemoration), and so I went to the grocery store to do the family shop (as the stores will be closed tomorrow, the usual grocery day). Before that I visited the library and spent about an hour poking around the "Tell Me Why", "Tell Me When", "Tell Me WTF" sections - AKA biography, health, psych. Grabbed a coffee, generally wandered.

It's times like this that make me the most scared of unemployment. Times when it's comfortable, when it's enjoyable, when the sun shines and all the "normal" folk are working. I think "Why would I WANT to find a job?" I think I read somewhere that Borderline patients have a tendency to find comfort in institutionalised worlds, like the armed forces or a cult. I was briefly in a cult, way back in the early 90s, but my indoctrination was more romantic than religious, as typically I joined to impress a hyperattachment/crush object, Steve. I was also an inmate of a particularly lax and loose boarding school during my teen years, until I was asked to leave. In both these instances, I found the rituals and routines to be hynotically soothing, and the discipline provided a heady counterpoint to my haphazard parenting.

My point, and yes, I do have one, is that I can already see myself falling into a state of comfy marginalization. I'm finding joy in the simplicity that comes from this type of lifestyle. I know I could restructure my life so that I can financially survive (tho' perhaps not thrive) on disability. I have a lot of positive things to occupy my time, which helps me to "justify" the not working. I think the only thing that fights the desire to become permanently disabled, or semi-so, is the knowledge that I'm really NOT. I am well enough -- to live in the world, rather than on the edges, and to work (at least part-time). I have to try and resist the "black and white" BPD thinking, to see my world as having two options, and two options only -- a) Psychiatric patient, permanently disabled and unemployed OR b) Worker Bee "A" type person, ambitious and driven to succeed. I have to work on finding middle ground, and that's why I have to resist settling into a rut.

Comfortable in my own skin, with my self and my existence - yes. But complacent - no.

The Jagged Little Pill

Yesterday, I managed to drag myself out of bed in time to present my high-functionin' self to Dr A at 8:30am. It wasn't easy, not least because dealing with peak-hour public transport is enough to send the sanest soul into a decline. I HATE the train, the ones that go near my house are set up so that the seats are all along the sides, facing in - your paranoiac's basic nightmare. A friend of mine who works as a train security guard says it's due to the high level of crime and naughtiness on my train line - but I *think* she's joshin' with me. Anyway, the trains at that hour of the morning are chock-full of worker drones (um, hello, you used to be one, yes I know, now shut up, ok?) and I was paranoid I would run into someone from my old work. In a small town city like Perth that happens a lot. In fact, it happened last time I had an early appt with Dr A and I could just imagine the chatter back at the office "Hey, I thought L had a schiz-out and was in the funny farm? Well, I just saw her heading into the city and looked like she was going to work...does she have a new job?" Bummer.

Anyway. Anyway. Anyway... the appointment went pretty well, although I am mega-cynical of most of his shrinkish moves. He asked me about the job situation, saying I was "extremely well spoken and had the gift of the gab" (bless) and that I was "very skilled" (you got no idea honey). I just about managed to not roll my eyes in cynical acknowledgement of his attempt to bond my good self to him. We talked a bit about "Lost in the Mirror" a great book about BPD that was recommended by the fab Wandering Coyote . It's terrific, and one of the things the author discusses is the benefit of ritual and routine for the Borderline. I had already been planning to try and set up a daily plan for myself, getting up at a certain time, exercising, cleaning, homework etc, because I am really scared about becoming wedded to my bed hahaha. So Dr A and I gasbagged about what I might have in my ritual/routine, trying to strike that happy balance between tasks and fun.

Once I left there I was all fired up for the day and had a small shopping spree (wouldn't call it a binge per se...) and saw a movie (Duplicity - not bad. Clive Owen deliciously British). Then went out later with my friend Michelle, and we had dinner and saw another movie (Paul Blart Mall Cop - v. entertaining, Kevin James chubbily charming). Today, I managed to stick to my routine/ritual and got up at 8am (better than yesterday's 6am, ugh) and have been cleaning and writing and applying for jobs all day while listening to Taylor Swift. Even managed to get outside and sweep the patio floor and vacuum my dog's kennel (Michelle, no need to call the RSPCA now lol).

So here's the thing. And ain't there always a kicker? Yesterday I *finally* opened the Lovan box, pushed out a pill, snapped it in half and swallowed it along with my myriad other tablets and supplements. Lovan, for those not "in the know" is another name for fluoxetine, aka Prozac. Sometimes, apparently, SSRIs can start working immediately and in very small doses. But maybe I am just having a couple of great, energy-filled, productive fun days?? I am furious at the fact that it might be those god-damned chemicals that have given me the kick in the ass I needed to get out of bed and into the world again. Part of me hopes for a major slump, so I can go "hooray, the meds aren't affecting me, it's just a hypomanic state!!" It's nuts, clearly. I want to be well, but I don't want medication to help me? Where's the sense in that?? I'm just gonna have to go with it. Here's the confusing list of facts (for my own record as much as to entertain my beloved readers, so please forgive me!)

1. Finished my darn period four days ago, always a positive thing
2. Kicked my diet coke habit six days ago - traditionally a hard time, usually gives me withdrawal headaches and lethargy?
3. Could barely function four days ago, and now have energy to burn and a clear head
4. Two days ago started SSRI anti-depressant at 1/8 of the standard/highest dose

I don't know how much of this relates to my current mental and physical state!

I don't know if I'm just having a "good" week!

But I am DETERMINED to make the most of it, regardless.