we wear our bruises like watermarks

Thank you so much to be darling friends for your comments previously. I wish I could say things have improved. They are made markedly worse, at the least complicated, by the re-appearance of my lupus in a hideous whole body flare that threatens to render me inert. (FYI - Lupus, or Systemic Lupus Eurythematosus is an autoimmune disorder, whereby the body's immune system attacks itself, eg: organs, joints, skin, rather than attacking external threats like bacteria or viruses. It's usually hereditary and incurable).

I'm not foolish enough to gloss over the connection...mind/body medicine is one of the things that cured my fibromyalgia (kind of similar to chronic fatigue and sometimes connected with lupus) and helped control my lupus, so I know that what I think and feel is reflected in my physical wellbeing. The fact that I've been struggling with some emotional issues has left me fatigued and rundown, and a perfect target for a lupus flare. So far it has shown up as joint pain (particularly my hands and right knee), constant nausea and neck pain. I'm lucky, in that my degree of lupus is very mild (so far). I am medicated for it, which helps, and thus far my autoimmune system hasn't attacked any serious organs. I know people who have kidney and liver or heart disease from lupus, and people who have lost eyesight and mobility. My paternal grandmother died because of it.

Anyway. I am now feeling even sorrier for myself, and struggling even more to maintain a positive outlook. I am even tireder than I was when my problems were "just" mental/emotional. The way I beat fibromyalgia and controlled my lupus in 2005 when I was first diagnosed was through fairly strict mind/body medicine - predominantly meditation and diet, as well as the medication.

I just don't think I have the energy it will take to get well again.

Last time I was ill, my mental state was strong, I was in (what seemed then to be) a supportive marriage, I was barely working in a casual job. Basically, I had a lot in the positives column. Now...it seems like things were just starting to take shape for me in my new work/home, and BANG, life throws me a curve ball. Ain't it always the way.

Neil is even more concerned than before, now I'm even more bedridden and exhausted and complaining. I have to make an appointment to see my specialist and find out if my medication needs changing. There really is only one medication for lupus (Plaquenil) but maybe I need more, or something new might have become available. I was so complacent and cocky... I thought I had the lupus whipped.

My mental state has kind of taken a back seat at the moment. I'm feeling okay, coping mostly with work and getting on well with my adorable man. Big picture is kind of blurry. Finer points are kind of rough round the edges. I haven't felt BPD-ish for quite some time, which is mostly (I think) due to the basic CBT/DBT I have ingrained in me, as well as the medication and a strong relationship based on honesty and boundaries. But the scary part is, I feel like I may be slowly unravelling. If I have lost control of my physical health, is my mind the next thing to go??

Title from Perth band Birds of Tokyo's song "Plans".

Happy 200

I can't believe this blog has been going for more than a year, which means my "official" BPD diagnosis is also more than a year old. It's my 200th post today - and I want to say a massive thank you to all my readers and commenters. Having you guys around has made the last year a LOT more enjoyable, and I hope some of my ramblings have helped other people to feel more sane LOL, or less alone.

I feel as though I should do some kind of a retrospective to mark the 200th post. It's certainly amazing to me how much has changed, in my physical life as well as my mental/emotional life. Working hard with Doc A, and practising my CBT and DBT skills, and finding a good medication balance has meant that I can function fairly well most of the time. I've returned to work, moved out of my parents' house, and started dating. A year ago, none of these things seemed possible. I owe a lot to Doc A, and to my family and friends who have been supportive, but I am recognising how much of the work I did myself. I was determined to survive, and to even thrive, and even when I was most despairing, I hung on to the hope. Even in the darkest times, I focused on the tiny glimmer of hope at the end of the tunnel, and I think that's what got me through. It gave me the strength to keep working at therapy and to resist the evil BPD voices in my head when they told me to binge eat, shop, pull out my hair, scratch my skin, obsess, scream...

There are times when I wonder if I can keep up the effort, but I get through them (occasionally with the help of a Valium LOL). Events of the past year have tested me, often, but I do feel like I have made progress and am functioning pretty well. As mentioned in an earlier post, Doc A says that if I came in now to see him for an initial consult he probably wouldn't place me in the same Borderline Personality Disorder category, that he would assume I was at worst a mild case. I am attached to my diagnosis, so I don't know how I feel about having it taken away!! It seems weird to think of myself as just Lil instead of Borderline Lil, even though I know that it makes perfect sense - I am not JUST my diagnoses, I am a complete and whole person underneath the crazy haha.

As an update to previous posts, I am still spending time with Lloyd, though part of me suspects he doesn't deserve me LOL. We are technically "friends", and see a lot of each other, and in many ways I'm happier without the relationship label. I am still in two minds about him, and our relationship, but being with him (mostly) makes me happy. It's weird that I'm almost 40 years old and am finally falling for an Unsuitable Boy. I always made sensible, rational choices when I actually committed myself to relationships in the past, even though some of my fantasy/obsession/crushes were kind of out there. But something about Lloyd makes me retract all my feminist beliefs and my rational decisions. My friends and family think I deserve better, intellectually I know that he needs to step up and be a man, but there is a big part of me that just loves him, you know? As much as I don't want to, and I'm fighting it, I just want him to love me.

Ugh. I can't even stand the sound of myself!! It's stupid. I'm hopeful that his hold on me will dissipate, somehow, sometime, and I'll be able to move on. Til then, I just focus on the good stuff.

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.

Comfort Box

One of the tasks I'm working on this week, as part of my "Understanding Borderline Personality Disorder" workbook, is creating a Comfort Box. The process is very simple, and probably most folks have come across it before, but there's a little article on ehow.com about it here if you want to know more. Basically, I've been asked to create a boxful of stuff to cheer me up and to help with Distress Tolerance (Distracting) -- so that when I feel overwhelmed/ stressed / depressed I can use the items in the box to cheer myself up and distract me until the "difficult emotions" and "unhelpful thoughts" have eased up. You can see most of the items I have in there so far, including a wallmap of the USA with all my trips marked, a couple of books, photos of the cats and dog, a lavender scented soap and a Barbie fake camera which says "You look WONDERFUL" when you press the button! It's cheesy and always makes me smile! I'm still adding to it.

Putting together the box was heaps harder than I thought, and harder than the workbook suggested. They didn't warn me to watch out for trigger items, which of course came to hand faster than comforting items lol. For instance, trying to find a nice stuffed animal that didn't have sad memory attached -- the ones that weren't gifts from Mr Ex were given to me when I was in hospital. Photos were another suggestion, but it took me a while to find some that brought genuine happiness when I saw them, and I had to search through a lot of albums and relive a lot of not-so-happy times and relationships. The real killer was the music, though, as touched on in my last post...

I'm putting together a cheery peppy music CD to put in the comfort toolbox, and I think I've ended up with a great mix. Songs that aren't too angry or negative (sorry Alanis!) but are just kind of happy and upbeat. Mika features, as does Fergie and Madonna, and some offbeat Australian music like Ben Lee, Darren Hanlon and The Cat Empire. I talked to Dr A today about the music thing, and how I have been known to use it as an intentional trigger, to make myself cry and feel when I am too closed down to cope with anything. He says crying suits me and I should do it more often. I think he's aiming for some hot transference action hahahahaha.

Audrey, Abby and Alice

Day Nine on zero medication -- it's like someone took industrial strength cleaning solution to the windows and everything is FINALLY clear and bright and just *slightly* overpowering if I look at it straight on! Am focusing on one day at a time, knowing that my moods can swing in moments - but today and yesterday have been really great days. The physical side effects of Effexor withdrawal are gone, and my psych said to me this morning that due to the smallish dose I was taking, and the limited time I was one it, that I am officially "all clear" of Effexor. Yippee!! Over the next couple of months, depending on how I respond to the CBT, he'll see whether I need an SSRI, I am hoping that I can cope without it (I know, I know, but I can hope lol!) or that if I need one I can take a low dose. I never want to go back to the days of Zoloft MegaDose (would you like a side dish of night terrors with that??).

I try not to focus on my mood ALL day, trying to sense a rapid cycle or a switch. I'm wondering if I will ever get to the point of not being hyperaware of my mood swings, outbursts and such. I can read it in my mom's face ("oh, here comes one of her manic phases") and it drives me beserk...truly...like, can I not just be lucid and coping well for ONCE???

The title of my post refers to an artwork I'm starting, in an effort to rebuild/restore my self and sense of identity. I did a timeline, showing all the influences I have had during my "As If" phases (where I latched onto a new friend, lover, workplace, interest, etc and made their characteristics my own) and am using it to try and separate the "true" interests and image of Lil from the "false" interests and physical/cultural ideals of my Obsessions. I know this will sound nuts, but I ended up with elements of three TV/cinema characters that I have always loved, and often tried to emulate -- namely Abby Scuito (NCIS), Alice Sullivan (from a dodgy 80's Australian TV show E-Street. As a sidenote, The Mentallist and The Guardian's Simon Baker starred in this show, it had kind of a cult following due to its serial killer and werewolf type storylines haha) and Audrey Hepburn (most loved by me in Breakfast At Tiffany's). They are all fantastic women, quirky and individualistic, and I'm looking forward to seeing how the piece turns out.