Ive been alone, purely alone without the noise of life for a couple of days now. Not to say I haven’t interacted or been with people, that triggers and pokes are not still happening, they do, but being so isolated from the crush of life, makes me able to feel each sense perceptibly. This would normally be a 5 alarm fire to run straight into the clutches of hell, feeling every speck of sand stuck to my damned soul in that pesky way sand never seems to every want to come off.
It’s been enlightening running through the emotions. I just posted a blog about my happiness and I am happy but as we with BPD know that doesn’t mean emotions are still. There is still the need to use my DBT training to manage the rises and falls and interpret what is real and not. For example, someone that I had been waiting to hear from just told me they couldn’t do something. A very normal, run of the mill, they’re busy right now. To your average joe that should be just fine. To BPD mind its the ultimate in rejection, or it seemed so for me, crushingly so, complete with anxiety, incredulousness, sorrow and then every scenario I could conjure from what was wrong with me, I wasn’t loved to what i would do to make that person feel bad, absolute blacks and whites from one spectrum to the other till I could wrestle it into a manageable plane and believe you me, that took at least an hour. Substantial distraction, poring over the emotion and rationalizing each piece to myself, removing vengeful thoughts, walking around, OCD typing. It’s the shits, imagine doing this all day everyday. This is life with BPD.
Once upon a time, I didn’t recognize it, so whichever emotion hit first and hit hard took control and it was a gong show. One after the other, as like waves, they keep coming in sets. And this is when mania would set in, it’s a drug, that once it sets in feeds on each trigger, making you higher and higher. Mania doesn’t mean happy highs, you can also be manic dark, which I think is worse. Much better to be on a careening high of false adrenaline and fun, than rolling down a bank of darkness picking up every maligned patch of disease along the way.
The ability to have some semblance of control, even with the struggle I still need to manage it, is amazing. I still make mistakes, many mistakes, I still cry like my world is shattering, I still want to die, but I have cognizance. There is a part of me that has learned the habit of feeling what can be right and wrong in myself, and when an emotion, anguish or yearning is me or me in BPD mind. It’s far from perfect but I do encourage anyone that struggles, if they have the resource offered for free through the mental health community or pay for a private course, to take dialectical behavioural therapy. It is not the same thing as CBT, as CBT alumnus like to think. DBT was specifically comprised for people suffering from BPD and each module nails down challenges specific to us, it goes beyond being cognitive.
My hard part is still emotion regulation, still makes me feel like I have my legs kicked out from under me and the wind knocked from me each time. Somehow, you still have to pick yourself up after being gut punched and regulate the emotion. It’s much easier to lie on the ground letting the pain wash over you and wish it would all end. Or just let the mind take over and the devil and angel settle on your shoulder, deciding how to settle your emotional score. Letting your emotional move be determined by strangers, which it pretty much is if you don’t take control, can be an easy way out, just wait to see the end of movie, which may end up with you dead, incarcerated, doing something you really regret (putting this mildly) or just let yourself become a waste of space. Most times, it ends badly… but at that point you really don’t give a damn. I’m getting better, I do tend to lie there ruminating and invariably make the wrong decision before the right one which leaves a gnawing pit of guilt in my stomach.
I may speak from experience as I am feeling this way right now. I knew the right choices but I couldn’t fight the voices, insecurity, guilt to get to the right choice first. I got there but screwed up along the way and watching the litter behind me is sickening. I know, I need to pat myself on the back because i can SEE the litter, I CAN talk about it, I CAN see it, but it doesn’t mean I want to know it 😦 So many positives but still the negatives. I did come right, found the correct voice but listened to the wrong ones first because they were easier. What I’m trying to say, it’s not easy and there is so much guilt and repercussion along the way, but I am still doing good, better than I ever have, and that I can look back and write this is major kudos.
No more 5-Alarm for right now, just some guilt. Onwards, may bite me in the ass later but I did OK.