dressed like a punk you were too young to remember

Had a great session with Doc A on Thursday, where I rambled about my babyish fears and feelings of separation anxiety from my family, and he made the predictable, yet accurate, statements about the challenges of individuation and such. I sometimes think that my main gain from therapy is the validation, which seems so irritating because it's a basic service I shouldn't need to pay $250 an hour for, and for which Doc A needn't have studied for ten years! I could have just recorded my own voice on a tape recorder saying "you are fine, you are okay, yes you have reasons to be angry, yes it's okay to feel sad". Aaargh. I'm kidding, really, I know there's more to it and that the work I'm doing with Doc A has helped my Ego gain control over the rampaging Id and all that Jungian palaver. In the end, I can say 100% that therapy is worth the effort and the financial outlay - I'm "better" with it than without it I guess. That's what it comes down to with medication, too. If I function more effectively, and feel happier and more peaceful on fluoxetine and amisulpride, then I'll keep taking it.

In other news, I had a brief reawakening of my mojo a couple of weeks ago, brought about by a flirtatious afternoon with my 18-year-old coworker Logan. Innappropriate, who me?? It's interesting to me that I could actually FEEL myself becoming BPD-ish, and more importantly could head my obsessive fantasies off at the pass, as if they were runaway brumbies lol. He's a lovely lad, and if I was twenty (or even ten haha!) years younger I'd give it a red hot go, but really - even I know where to draw the line. Logan is the only man who works for the Foundation, and Michelle said to me maybe I'd fixated on him because I missed male company and Logan was the only male in my environment... Probably true! I'm not exactly falling over blokes in my current life. Most of the time I don't want one (a bloke that is), but sometimes it's nice to imagine. I'm relieved that my fancying Logan was a short and sweet moment in time, rather than a long drawn-out obsessive crush like that last two workmates I flirted with. Maybe I really AM becoming well??

(Belle & Sebastian provide today's song lyric - "I'm a Cuckoo")

i turned my face away and i dreamed about you

I have this weird theory that when I dream about certain people, it means they are dreaming about me (or thinking about me, if that person resides in a different time zone lol). Clearly this doesn't relate to the strange dream I had once about being in Starbucks with George Clooney... sadly. But I had a dream recently about a bloke I call The One That Got Away. We've all got one, well most of us, someone who was always at the back of our minds, and in our lives, as a potential mate but the timing was wrong, the the situation was impossible, and thus the person remains just a friend. In my case, even the friendship was lost due to Steve (TOTGA) moving across the country and us losing touch. But I think about him often, and he is one of the few people that I can imagine being in a relationship with without wanting to run away screaming, or start gagging. I think it's partly because the trust is there, you know, it's not like starting fresh with some guy who may or may not turn out to be an axe murderer or a mouth breather.

I met Steve through a cult I used to hang with. It was one of those quasi-interpersonal cults, focused on self-reflection rather than a residential David Koresh/Jim Jones deal with a fatal end result. Both of us moved away from the cult, actually I think the Puerto Rican leader went to jail for embezzlement or something, but our friendship was solid. One of the things the cult believed in was the soul astral travelling to another plane while we slept, so maybe that's one of the reasons I imagine Steve is dreaming about me when I dream of him. It was one of those realistic dreams when I asked a number of times in the dream "I'm not dreaming, am I?" but of course, the fantasy ends and I wake up still having not seen or spoken to TOTGA since 1994. Steve is the main reason I am on the Evil Empire of Facebook, just in case he ever wants to find me...

Things in therapy have been getting to a flashpoint, if that's the right word. It's hard work sometimes, a lot of the time really, but recently I feel like it's starting to pay off. I'm achieving clarity in the way I view my relationships, esp with my family and their patterns of behaviour. I need to get a one-way ticket out of Martyrville. Dr A talked to me about how the "nice girl" persona I have, where I seem accommodating and easy-going, mimics my mother's passive-aggressive relationship with my nanna. She resents the hell out of nanna, bitches and moans about her and her lack of parenting and yet runs around after her and constantly puts her own needs second to my nanna's. I think I grew up thinking that was the way to win friends and influence people, but now I see that it's a massive cop out and it's SO dishonest. She (I) just doesn't want to address her (my) own desires and requirements, and then make the changes to get them. I REFUSE to be like this anymore! I'm becoming "selfish" in that I put myself and my journey first - as long as it doesn't hurt or harm others I think that's how it should be. I can love and support other people without being their "bitch" haha!!

Regardless of how difficult it is, I am aiming to live an authentic, real life someday. I'm not there yet, but I'm working on it. I decided today that regardless of the financial cost, I'm filing for divorce this week. Screw the money, I need the closure. If Mr Ex will pay for half, that's fine, but if need be I will cancel my summer vacation and spend the money getting my name back. I keep saying to myself "You go girl", and I know I can hear all your wonderful supportive voices saying the same thing. I don't say it enough, readers/friends, but thank you.

(title from the pogues/kirsty macoll (RIP) fairytale of new york)

Lost & Found

It's my birthday soon. In ten days, in fact, and it will be my last "30 something" birthday, as next year I face up to the big 40. This time of year always makes me contemplative...what have I done with the last 12 months, what do I want from the future, yada yada. It makes me realise what I have lost, all those dreams that I've shelved (perhaps permanently), but more importantly I've started to focus on all that I've gained. So here's a list of some Lost & Founds I've been thinking about lately.

Lost

• 50kg (over 100 pounds)
• an unhappy marriage
• mental stability (which was only achieved through over-medicating and denial anyway)
• ability to hold down a full-time job
• potential of, or desire for, future relationship with man or woman

Found

• some kick-ass online friends (and a real-life one - you rock Michelle!)
• a whole grocery list of adjectives to describe my life...like peaceful, independent, brave
• CBT and DBT, and generally awesome other types of T from my shrink Dr A
• a life with minimum medication and (fairly! mostly!) stable moods
• a diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder, which helps me make sense of my mixed-up life and wacky behaviour
• what I like to call "the best job in the world", which is badly paid and a long way from home but makes me happy to be there
• the ability to tie my shoelaces, sit comfortably in a chair, walk a few miles without fainting and the joy of buying clothes "off the rack"
• new passions like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, tenpin bowling and Taylor Swift

There is a lot to be thankful for this year, and even though I have lost contact with three of my four former "best friends", and sometimes I miss Mr Ex like crazy, overall I think I am doing okay. Some days I feel like the madness is nipping at my heels again, but I try and kick its nasty little rat-face and tell it to get away. Therapy is hard, even when it's working, maybe more so when it's working. There is a lot to be done, and I know that I've only scratched the surface of the angry Lil.

I think that the picture at the top of this post, which is entitled "Optimism" (by meppol from www.deviantart.com) captures my state of mind. Trying, always, to think of the glass as half full.

Darth Vader, Chloe from 24 and Tony Soprano

Apart from being moody and melancholy, the three fictional characters in the title of this post have all come under suspicion as having Borderline Personality Disorder. I know there are more, a lot more, but those three came up in a Google Images search I did for BPD. I wanted to change my Facebook profile picture to something suitably dark and depressive. I ended up with a picture of Lucy from Peanuts in her 5c Psychiatry booth (see above).

I'm finding it hard to posit myself in the BPD spectrum. If you think about the 3 characters listed above, it's hard to remember them smiling, laughing, or experiencing genuine mirth that wasn't at the expense (often physical painful lol) of others. I consider myself to be pretty damn hilarious and light of spirit...sometimes...and most of the things I've read and seen about BPD seem to focus on the dark side. Old Darth should be the poster child... Maybe that's going to be where I find my niche in all this psychiatric BS, to be the Borderline Personality Comedienne. There were a couple of cartoons I liked in the BPD Google Image library, which I will probably post on here sometime. One was a guy buying a t-shirt that said "Ask Me About My Borderline Personality Disorder" and his friend asks "What's on the back?" and the guy shows him that it reads "Or I swear to God I'll kill myself". Fark I thought that was hilarious. Does that mean I DON'T have BPD???? Luckily I've still got my sense of humour and my self-relflexivity...I think those are more successful weapons against mental illness than these darn drugs.

Speaking of which...

Dr A saw me last week and I was super agitated and cranky. He recommended I go in for an inpatient stay in the PC (Clinic) to get me off the Effexor (aka "SideEffexor"). Two weeks. Uninsured, costs about $2500 a week. As much as I would love to leave the comfort of my kingsize bed, my stocked fridge, my computer and my 2 cats (yeah right), I thought there had to be a better way. Cut a long story short, I am in Day 2 of Zero Medication. I know, it's crazy to just stop. To be honest, I took 150mg, then 75mg for a few days, and now am on nothing. No Valium, no mirtazapine, no EffexorXR. The withdrawal is nowhere near as bad as the freakin drug, which was amplifying everything and making me nauseous and headachy. But it's there... some of the electro-impulses I've read about, and the sluggishness. I saw Dr A today and he had a minor hissyfit about me going pretty much cold turkey off the meds, but had to agree that I am "noticeably" less agitated and clearer. We are keeping our fingers crossed that the withdrawal stays at this manageable level... I hated the Effexor SO MUCH. Zoloft was nowhere near as weird for me, it blunted me but no excess anger or mania or mood swings. Dr A asked to see my mom today in the session, to help her spot any "withdrawal" psychosis, etc - as I live with my parents currently I guess he thought she was the person who'd have to ring the psych unit if I flipped my lid haha. Anyway, having her in the session INFURIATED me (so much for the anger being subdued haha). I hate sharing lol!! I didn't want to emote or be honest with Dr A with her there, and I know that I could easily get fixated on the paranoid delusion that they are both against me. Intellectually, I know that's total BS. But the feeling was still there...

Guilt

Sometimes I wish I was a psychopath. Or is it a sociopath? The type of person who suffers no guilt or remorse and pretty much goes around doing whatever the hell they like. I am consumed with guilt this week...I should have returned to work on Monday or Tuesday, and here it is Wednesday and I am still in my pyjamas at noon, still obsessively researching, reading and blogging about my issues lol. If only self-obsession was a vaild career choice. I think that technically "sociopath" is the same as psychopath...let me check wiki...well, the wiki gods say that sociopathy describes psychopath AND personality disorder - but not MY personality disorder, naturally.

Damn it, why couldn't I have been an antisocial personality rather than a freakin borderline. All these definitions and descriptions help me not a jot. I have an appointment with Dr A this afternoon, and it's going to be a bit of a strain. He insisted I go back to work this week, as a form of "distress tolerance" (apparently a part of Cognitive Behaviour Therapy). I cannot believe that I need to be distressed in order to learn to tolerate it...can't I just remember all the past moments of distress and work on those?? Why do I need to create NEW distress??

I am sure I'm not alone in this, but I really have to fight wanting to show up to my appointment fully made up, articulate, fashionably dressed, and remarkably "high functioning" as always. WHY do I need to impress everyone all the time... it's clearly screwy... Dr A will hopefully see through my incessant need to be perfect and realise I am one episode away from permanent incarceration in the loony bin.