{August 23, 2012}   Hallelujah

It’s been a rough start to my week. I came back from my trip to the cabin feeling good about the trip and my ability to use my newfound DBT skills to stay in the present and enjoy the time I had with my BFF. However, upon returning it was not so easy.

I was getting the cold shoulder from H, his way of punishing me, like the BPD child I am, positive reinforcement that I will always be a child and that he cannot understand. Monetarily this month has been awful, I had to swallow my pride and ask my mother for money today, something I never wanted to do. It brought out looming fears of what would happen if I could not work. There are a few DBT individuals in my group that do not work and are on disability living with family and trying to get better. I wish I had the luxury of having the time to focus wholly on getting better.

I opened up that I had BPD in group and for our destructive behaviour I talked about my cutting. It was hard and brought up tears from a few other cutters. I found out I am not the only one that digs her nails into their arm so hard to quell the rising internal pain when cutting is not an option. I am happy to be in group, it makes me feel good that other people can relate, and when I hear them talk I want to throw my arms around them and hallelujah that I am not the only inner child, anxious, needy, abandoned, unable to cope crazy person. I love that Y dissociates because normal people think I’m lying about separating mind and body, but the fact that Y does it too makes my heart sing that she can talk to me about pain making us split. That G also feels her boyfriend doesn’t understand how much it hurts when there isn’t reassurance and contact, and that he doesn’t understand the pain and abandonment that lives in our minds without the touch. That K has almost every single symptom I have, except that she’s on disability and her parents had to take a loan for her to be able to come to class, but in the last 3 sessions I have seen more life in her each time. That Y also takes a pen to paper and rips it to shreds when she can’t contain the emotion. B and K live in fear that their mental health will lose them their jobs, I get that. B said today he wished he as on crutches so people could see his illness, how many times have I said i would rather have cancer, diabetes, something on the outside so people would understand, I am sick.

I wish I could get Hugh and my family to take the DBT course for loved ones, so they can understand the fragility of our lives and that tiny pin pricks feel like stab wounds. And stab wounds feels like torture in a german detention camp. That lack of communication is crippling and takes our breath away. That we have raw skin on the outside of our bodies. I want them to understand so badly, that they would judge me less if they knew and could speak with someone when they didn’t understand as oppose to lash out.

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et cetera
A Forgetful Traveler

Remembering the world one blog post at a time

Life after BPD

Life after Borderline Personality Disorder; making a life worth living through love, laughter, positivity and Dialectical Behaviour Therapy

Bi-polar parenting

Thoughts and ideas

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