It's The End Of The World As We Know It

And I feel fine (as the song goes).

This week's session with Dr A focused mainly on the two tasks he's set for me as homework. A while back he mentioned that me getting my driver's licence would be a huge benefit, not only in practical terms but also because it would mean I had conquered a life-long fear. He's right, and it's not like I haven't already thought of that myself... but the actual physical task of going and getting my Learner's Permit (for the SIXTH time) is beyond me at the moment. However, I have promised to visit the licensing website and do the online Learner's test as practice, and also to find out the costs involved. I first got my Learner's Permit when I turned 17 (the legal driving age in Western Australia), and was also given a car by my beloved grandfather. The car, a 1972 Ford Cortina, had been his and when he died a few months later I wondered if the loss of freedom (he never got another car) had finished him off. I moved to the city a few months after my birthday, leaving the car with my parents until I eventually decided to sell it (having only had a few lessons and not really ever feeling comfortable with the idea of driving in our country town, let alone the Big City). I've had other goes at learning to drive, with varying success, but I've never booked a driving test - the idea of having to park on command, and to follow complicated instructions from the examiner, seems to negate the fact that I am actually a fairly competent driver (according to the various instructors I've had over the last 22 years).

My second piece of homework involves Mr Ex, and the fact that our 12 months' legal separation was completed this week. I downloaded the paperwork (don't you love the technological age) for the divorce but had yet to broach the subject with Mr Ex, especially as last weekend he came along to my Bowling Birthday Party and we had a great time. Not a "getting back together, happy every after" great time, but a great time nonetheless. Dr A had a bit of a go at me for the mixed messages I was sending out willy-nilly... especially to myself. I definitely DO NOT want to be married - to anyone. But that fact remains that I adore Mr Ex, for all his faithlessness and foibles (and by that I don't mean "infidelity". Blame Wandering Coyote's deep thoughts here for the use of the word "faithless" haha). Part of my worries about him, whether he thinks we'll get back together, whether he will do something self-harming. But, in the spirit of "Being In Therapy" I agreed with Dr A that the paperwork needs to be addressed. I printed it all out today and was planning to deal with it when Mr Ex came over to walk his dog. My best-laid plans were thwarted when Mr Ex texted me to say he can't come over today. At least the papers are printed and filled out, and in reality I don't need Mr Ex's permission or signature to file them. I do, however, need an amount of cash to go with said papers. Ouch.

Apart from these nagging administrative tasks, my life continues to sail along. I start my new hours tomorrow, which sees me working every second Monday along with Tues, Wed and Fri each week. On the opposing Monday I see Dr A. Which still gives me Thursdays to sleep in, vege out, blog and blog-visit and see friends. I think I will manage, it's a fine compromise, and having some extra money is always welcome. I can save up to get divorced - blah. I still haven't written to my friend H, who sent me the out-of-the-blue birthday presents. I've been thinking about it, and intend to do it, it's another one of those "when I have the energy" tasks. Being mental is exhausting lol.

One area I need to watch is the continuing urge I have to over-achieve at work. Given that work was my area of downfall prior to this most recent breakdown, I've really been keeping track of my thoughts and emotions at work - and during the week I had a weird "showing off" hypermanic episode. I still crave validation and approval constantly, and have to fight the urge to pursue it from my superiors at work. It's one thing to do my job well, but another thing to undermine other staff, over-achieve, big note myself and get breathless and giddy when I'm given praise. The best thing was, though, that I caught myself in Emotion Mind (as DBT would call it) and could step back and use Reasonable Mind to see the situation for what it was - thereby stopping the roundabout before it got going. Something that might have progressed and spun out of control, was dealt with fairly quickly. Being only low-dose medicated also helped, because I am not as numb/blunted these days I'm more aware of my changes in physiology (heightened colour/warmth, faster breathing, shaking hands, talking faster) which sometimes come along with my Emotion Disregulation episodes.

"Kathy, I'm lost" I said, though I knew she was sleeping

It's strange the things that can bring on the melancholy. My stepdad bought a dvd today, of Simon & Garfunkel's Concert in Central Park (1981 I think) and has been playing it while I was in the kitchen cooking. For a lot of different reasons, the songs brought up memories, mostly sad. When I was about 10 years old I found an LP record in my parents' collection that had a handwritten name on it I recognised. It turned out to be (as I suspected at the time), one of the few things my mother kept that had belonged to my father - a Simon & Garfunkel record that I would secretly play when my mother and stepdad weren't around. Over the years I became more and more enamoured of them, and folk music in general, and I ended up buying the Concert in Central Park album in about 1987. Hearing the songs again reminded me of how in those days, at 17, I was still under the misapprehension that being depressed was something I would "grow out of". I believed that all the low moods and suicidal thoughts were part of my groovy & creative personality and I channelled them as much as I could into writing songs, stories, poetry.

What struck me the most today was that I could recognise melancholy approaching, and rather than eagerly laying down and becoming its mistress, I fought it and won. I used Mindfulness to view the feelings objectively, and could see clearly (maybe for the first time) the two paths on offer. I could either go with the sad memories, and add to them in the same way I was adding ingredients to my vegie soup, ending up with a confusing mess of mixed emotions and general blah. Or, I could feel and acknowledge the sadness/loss, briefly revisiting the memory of the past before letting it go.

Half an hour later, instead of being bedridden, binge eating, self-harming or bawling, I was finishing off making my soup and starting on brownie cheesecake (as my birthday treat for tomorrow). All the while still singing along with Simon & Garfunkel (that's one long concert lol).

I used to think that my over-emotional or extreme reactions to songs, films, books, etc were part of my personality. With DBT, I view it differently -- the reaction is the first, "normal" part of the equation, and the BPD encouraged me to take the reaction to the extreme and let it overwhelm my thoughts and (therefore) my emotions. With the new filter of my Wise Mind I'm learning/trying to enjoy the reaction to the song (for instance), but keep it in context and balance. It's still not second nature to me, but I know it gets easier to practice DBT/CBT skills.

One of my all-time favourite songs, and my favourite S&G tune, is "Kathy's Song". I used to cry when I heard it, especially the lines:
"I sit and watch the drops of rain
Weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain
There but for the grace of you, go I"
Forgive me if I've misquoted, I'm writing them from memory! Anyway, today I heard those words in a completely different context and they didn't make me sad. I even half-jokingly substituted "DBT" for "you" in the final line. This morning could have ended up very differently, much bleaker, without my new therapy. A few people I know who have done DBT call themselves "DBT Geeks", or DBT Obsessives - experiencing it work really does make you a convert/true believer! I hope I don't come across as simplifying Borderline, or other mental illness, and I am definitely not saying Dialectical or Cognitive Behaviour Therapy is the only way to treat these things. They have just worked for me, after many years of NOTHING working. And I wanted to share it.

Things I Know To Be True

1. The two times I tried to kill myself (as in moved past the "screw this, I want to die" phase, into the counting and swallowing pills phase), the repercussions and physical after-effects were exhaustingly prohibitive.
2. If there was a legal, non-painful method of suicide, like voluntary euthanasia for the mentally strapped, I would have chosen it.
3. If it wasn't for logisitical concerns about my cats, and the aforementioned after-effects of overdose, I might still have chosen a non-legal, painful method.
4. Given points one through three, and given that I'm still here and still showing some semblance of fight, maybe I need to accept that I'm still here

By that I mean, trying to make some plans and encourage the tiny unfurlingness of dreams. After all, I would hate to think I stuck around in this life just to exist in a mechanical stupor with no big picture. You know??

Fraud

Just got home from Day Two of the New Job. Aforementioned "fraud" was committed on Day One when I (for the first time) wrote "none" next to Medications on the medical history form. Didn't mention my low-dose SSRI. Didn't mention my lupus meds, cause let me tell ya, THAT disease is only slightly more socially/workplace acceptable than mentalness. I felt like I was crossing a threshold of some kind, becoming "one of the other people"...one of the people who understand that sometimes it's okay, maybe even imperative, to lie. There was no good reason for my new employer to know about my medical history, in the past I would have disclosed it for two reasons: 1) To garner sympathy or admiration; 2) Because I was afraid of getting in trouble. Those things are no longer motivators for me. Wow. Big step.

I don't even feel guilty, because I know that legally my employer can't not hire me based on my "disability". So why do they even get to ASK about it?

I have been having a lot of these internal conversations and monologues in the last 2 days. It's part of my new workplace persona, as dictated by Dr A -- aloof, passive, observing. Instead of doing my usual new workplace show-off/make friends dance, I have been remaining silent. A couple of people have said "You're really quiet", which is totally bizarre! I kind of like it, though, because there's a lot less pressure and tension attached to being the quiet, shy new girl. More times than I can count, or record in my journal for "processing" with Dr A, I have almost spoken or shared information, but instead have backed off and let the other person talk. It's the strangest thing...it's like I am seeing myself in a new light, or in the third person. I can see where I would in the past have forced myself to find bonds and commonalities with people. Now, I sit there, mute, and think "I have nothing in common with these people. They are different to me in age, background, experience...and that's OKAY."

Remains to be seen whether this continues. But generally I go into new situations pumped up and ready to impress -- and that is definitely not the case these days. I thought I would be nervous and feel worried about being mental, but now, post-breakdown, it's like the worst has happened and I know that I can survive it. I almost wish I would flip out, because then I can go home, get into bed, and apply for disability again. But financially, and for my own sense of purpose, I need to keep working while I am able. I'm lucky enough to be functioning and medicated, and am learning enough CBT to hopefully cope with a working life. Sure, I am in a job that is waaaaay beneath me in terms of experience, education, talent, but I am learning to deal with that loss of potential. I'm happy, just now, to potter along in an "ordinary" job, being the "mute girl in the corner". Reading my book at lunchtime. Drinking far too much coffee. Trying not to check if the sky is falling.

The Angry Heart

I'm reading Joseph Santoro's book The Angry Heart at the moment, and as always I find it immensely comforting to realise I'm not alone, and other people have dealt with similar issues and feelings with their experiences as Borderlines. Although this book suffers from being 12 years old and a little bit outdated in my opinion, there's a lot to be gained from the self-help exercises and activities which are mostly based in writing and art therapy.

The authors suggest that BPD has three phases, each of which is activated or expressed because of feelings of "self-hatred". The phases are as follows - the Direct Self-Harm Phase, which includes times of self-injury, suicidal actions and depression; the Indirect Self-Harm Phase, where the BPD abuses substances, has extreme impulsivity and recklessness; and then there's the Inter-Phase. It's the Inter-Phase that interests me the most, it being the place I've most regularly inhabited as a Borderline. Although I've been self-harming and suicidal, and attempted both, and have terrible examples of binge eating and overspending, most of the "damage" I've done to myself and to others has been during the Inter-Phase.

The way Joseph Santoro describes the Inter-Phase is "during periods of supportive living or working situations, people with BPD can become increasingly free of self-harmful behaviours...During the inter-phase the acceptance-seeking behaviour of people with BPD becomes more visible. At these times their need to be wanted, liked and accepted by others is so strong that they will often go to extreme lengths to please others". For me, being high-functioning (as Dr A calls it) posits me in the Inter-Phase, whereby I can mostly control my impulses and live a daily life without trying to kill myself or others, or engaging in illicit substances or activities. I think that medication helps keep me, and probably others, in that middle zone. But conversely, dangerously, being in that middle zone means that I have the spare time, energy and motivation to over-indulge my hyperattachments, crushes, BFFs, nemesises (nemeses??), enemies, vendettas, schemes, projects and plots. This where my true danger lies, where the roots of my insanity lurk, couched in "normal" behaviours and "everyday" relationships.

I found this concept to be illuminating. I'd never seen BPD separated out into those three phases, and whether or not it's true for everyone, I can't say. Most of us probably switch between the three phases in different ways, at different times, with our own unique triggers and patterns. But I definitely feel like my battle lies in the Inter-Phase.

I am both dreading and welcoming my return to work after Easter. It really is the only way to recover, and to teach myself new coping mechanisms and ways of relating. But it's scary as hell. I guess that's mostly because my last breakdown happened at work, and was triggered by my work-life situation. What if there's a cute salesman who makes me laugh? What if the girl next to me likes Belle & Sebastian?? What if one of my new bosses reminds me of my mother??? These are such innocuous things, that have in the past triggered such intense bonds. Dr A has already started me on some lists and plans to be more passive in my new environment and to defer any decisions (social or work related) until we can process them in therapy. The thought of having to be passive and more of an observer makes me nauseous haha!!! I have to tell myself that the lack of control in passivity is only perceived, and isn't real. Truthfully, remaining somewhat aloof and removed is where I will regain control of my life.

Creative Spurt

This week has been great for me as far as the creative muse is concerned. I bought two discounted wall calendars (marked down 75% as it's almost 1/4 of the way through the year I suppose) and have cut them up, making a colourful piece of art for my bedroom wall. I was considering painting, but as the property is a rental (and my taste in colours can be somewhat LESS than "neutral" haha) I opted for some removable renovations. Below is the "before" wall, then the "after", with the third photo being a close up. The pictures are from "The Earth Below" calendar (satellite images of Earth taken by NASA) and an Australian Abstract Act calendar. Weird mix, I know, but they kind of work together - and I loved the colours. It's cheered my room up immensely.

I've also been working on an accompaniment to my comfort box (see yesterday's post). There were a number of things, important things that are central to my recovery, that couldn't be "boxed up" so I made a collage (thank you Jena for the inspiration!) which I will put up on my wall to remind me of all the things I love to do when I feel low. I tried really hard to use images without triggers/reminders, and nothing addictive (which ruled out shopping, eating, caffiene, alcohol, etc, etc). I'm happy with how it turned out, and hopefully I can get back into some other art and craft I've been planning and working on.

The downside of the week was yesterday's appointment with Dr A. He was extremely supportive about me looking for a different job, not only because of the social issues but also because I am bored with the job and do need a new challenge. However, he again pushed the idea of medication. I've been "med free" since 15 Feb (almost a month!) and although getting off the Effexor was tough, I think I am doing really well. So it bugs me that he wants me to go onto 10mg of Prozac, just to help me complete the CBT and to lift my mood. I've been honest with him, and admitted that I have some suicidal ideation, but nothing anywhere close to the horror thoughts and moods I had while ON medication. And although I sometimes feel depressed (like yesterday when I found out I didn't get the job I interviewed for - boohoo) and hopeless and lost, it's okay because I know what to do and I don't need to get up and go to work, I can just take my time to get through the day. I really don't think I need medication. And what's the POINT of such a stupid low dose anyway?? I hate the way I ALWAYS need to think I am right and know more than the doctors!!! But in this case I think I DO hahahaha! My compromise is that I am going to work hard on my goals and homework for the week, WITHOUT Prozac, and then at my next session I can discuss it more with Dr A.

I just know from experience and research that one medication tends to lead to another, and sometimes it's hard to know what are side effects and what are actual symptoms. Any advice or input gladly welcomed (: