Ritual Sacrifice…. with Pie

“I love a ritual sacrifice. To commemorate a past event, you kill and eat an animal. It’s a ritual sacrifice. With pie.”
~Anya (Buffy the Vampire Slayer “Pangs”)

Would you like to wager what the most terrifying holiday for someone with a severe eating disorder is? Hint: It’s not Arbor Day.
 Personally? I hate Thanksgiving. If I were actually doing the cooking it’d be a different story. I could participate, contribute, and thereby alleviate my guilt and not wanting to join the festivities. I could easily hide the fact that I do not want to eat anything because of the appearance of business in the kitchen. But do I get to? Nope. Not even a little.
This is such a stressful holiday for me. First off, and the reason I couldn’t post yesterday, I drove approximately 500 miles to my parents house. Not that I don’t love spending 8 hours in my car, but, well, I don’t. On the plus side, my sister got home about an hour after I did and we broke out the wine. Double win. However coming back to my parents house is an instant trigger. All of my problems, all of my turbulence, all of my Borderline expressions, began here.
I come home and instantly gain 15 pounds. Oh, not literally. My tape measure tells me I haven’t gained even a fraction of an inch. But the mirror reflects all the fears I had growing up. This is something many people do not understand. I actually see something that may not be there. My brain translates the picture of myself into what I expect to see. Mind over matter. What matters is what my mind believes though.  
When I think of Thanksgiving I think: Obsession. Thanksgiving is a bulimics nightmare. It’s an entire day dedicated to food. Something that I spend way too much time pouring over, trying to avoid, punishing myself with, and purging my body of.
Most people are dreaming about turkey and stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie and hot buttered rum. I’m contemplating diet pills, laxatives, diuretics, excessive exercising, vomiting. These are the tools of my trade today. All of which I have at my disposal. All of which I would love, with all of my heart, to not use.
I would give anything to be able to enjoy the day with my family. I actually have one of those families where my parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, on both my mother and father’s side of the family… all get along. All like each other. All spend every holiday together. It’s like we fell out of a 1950’s sitcom. I would love to be able to kick back, grab a glass of Bailey’s, gnosh on all the goodies while catching up with the people that watched me grow up, and not worry about a couple holiday pounds. Can I? Oh hell no.
Holidays are a time where my family hasn’t seen me in months so I become the center of attention. I live a very creative lifestyle. I have a high profile occupation in ground breaking experimental physics. Everyone wants to know what I’m up to. All eyes are on me. All eyes are on the body that isn’t perfect enough yet, that has flaws that I’m still flattening out. All I want to do is curl up in bed, with the blankets pulled up over my head enjoying a Trazadone hibernation until the sun sets on this fateful day of dieting damnation.
But no. I have to spend it getting all dolled up, plastering a pretty plastic smile onto my face, making small talk with people as I meticulously tick off all the calories that each and every one of them is consuming. The eyes, the food, the forced pleasantries, the pressure and expectations everyone has for me, is an incredible burden. I can feel the anxiety well up in my stomach ready to burst out of my throat.
Every year it’s the same thing. Every year I hope it will be different. Honestly, my goal is to eat as little as possible. Every year I overdose on diet pills and purge at least once if not twice. I Do. Not. Want. To do this.  I am going to try my damnedest to make this year different. To make this year better. To not lose the battle.
Food is the enemy. This time it’s war.

Lucid Analysis: Trials in Therapy – Idealization & Devaluation

I forgot to post about therapy this week because my work week has been so freaking busy. So here it is. Late, but I got some important stuff figured out…

Let’s get the bulimic stuff out of the way first, shall we? Therapist has come to the conclusion that clearly my bulimia is triggered by being alone. Heh, gee, ya think? She did mention a theory that I found interesting. She said that eating disorders are correlated to relationship issues; connected with issues in childhood revolving around letting go or interrupted relationships. This theory makes absolute sense in connection to Borderline Personality Disorder. I’ll have to think on this more but I can definitely see how this would fit. At least in part. I still believe that a lot of my issues have to do with control and a need to be ‘perfect’. We’re working on ruling out things that trigger me and working on ways to preemptively prepare myself and avoid having to engage this behavior.


The really important thing we talked about?
My relationship with Friend is turning into a healthy friendship. Therapist seems to think most people can’t do that. She thinks it’s because I’m a sophisticated thinker. I think I’m a glutton for punishment… but after a while you get used to it and it’s not as harsh anymore. You build up a tolerance and pretty soon it doesn’t hurt you so much anymore. Ok, maybe it’s not all that. Maybe it’s not that at all. I don’t think it’s because I have some sophisticated point of view though. I’m afraid of losing him. I cannot let go of people. Not unless they’ve done something truly devastating and he simply hasn’t. In fact, other than being a little clueless since the sexual element of our relationship subsided he’s really been nothing but good to me. That doesn’t mean that things don’t still dig at me occasionally. It’s still painful for me to see him putting so much effort into a loveless marriage but frankly, do I really want to be with someone that is blinded to the realities of his life? No, not really. Plus I’m moving on and that helps. I’m not going to lie. Watching him have a stifled, sexless, awkward marriage while I’m out living it up… well, I’m amused. At the same time… I’ve stopped pushing away. For months now I’ve been trying to find some kind of balance with him. No, I haven’t told him this. I’m trying to figure out myself and how I fit with him. For months I was cool, reserved and very aloof with him. Distant. I refused to talk about personal stuff. I shut him down when he tried to talk about personal stuff with me. I kept conversation and interaction familiar and platonic, but removed. I’ve noticed over the past month though, that I’m reattaching to him, in a healthier way.


I idealized our friendship, our relationship. I’d convinced myself that he was absolutely perfect. Everything we shared, had in common, it MEANT that we were right to be together. And maybe I’m not entirely crazy in my thinking, but the fact of the matter is he’s married and that’s not going to change. (Reminder: He’s in an open marriage. His wife knew about the full extent of our relationship.)  When things changed I was utterly disillusioned but being Borderline I’m not able to make a smooth transition from one state to another. Change makes me panic and I immediately devalued him and hated his wife. At the same time I was afraid of losing him from my life entirely. I was in constant conflict about whether he should even be in my life and not being able to fathom losing my friend. I was pain personified and I didn’t know how to make it stop so I let it ride. I can deal with pain. It’s so familiar to me I almost don’t know how to function without it. But I’m learning. And things have slowly been changing with me, in regards to him, so that I am able to enjoy spending time with him, and not vilify him. Or idealize him.


Some things he did that were incredibly helpful to this process: When we first changed our relationship he’d written me a letter telling me he did love me as a friend and let me know just how much our friendship meant to him. I’m not going to lie and say I believed a word he said. Everyone lies. But it’s been nearly 6 months now and I can look back on that letter and see that the things he’d said still seem to hold true. He’s still here. He gave me the space I needed without pushing me, and didn’t leave. Even when I was horrible to him, even when I said things to make him angry, to push him away, to try to force his hand… he called me on my behavior and didn’t let me run away.

I’m beginning to think that getting past that first major devaluation in a relationship is an important step for someone with BPD. I’d tentatively wager that going through that first major devaluation is probably the best thing for a friendship/relationship in the long run. It shows that you can come through such a thing intact, and that it is possible to have relationships that continue to thrive even after, which will cultivate a new kind of trust. That lasts. At least, that’s what I’m coming to understand currently.

Check it out. Accidental relationship hope =)
How did I learn to channel my anger….

Therapist often tells me that I have a calm, healing presence. I almost always counter this with ‘now, I didn’t used to’.  To which she responds: I just can’t imagine it, you don’t appear that way at all. Of course you wouldn’t see that, you’ve only known me for 8 months. You didn’t know me when I was destroying my house, kicking down doors and putting my fist through plate glass. I did realize that I had a major turning point when I began my major costuming endeavor though. About 6 years ago I did my first major costuming vacation. I spent a month making 13 full outfits. I channeled all of my attention and energy into that one goal and was rewarded with one of the happiest, peaceful and most freeing experiences of my life. I don’t think I realized it consciously until recently, but having a creative out (as I mention way back in Escapism) is crucial for helping me calm my anger. That or fighting really. I did mixed martial arts for 15 years and am looking to get back into it. It’s a safer form for my aggression, but as that’s not currently on my agenda… art! Finding something you love, something you can immerse yourself in…. is therapeutic all in and of its own.

That’s not to say it always works or that I’m not still angry. I am incredibly angry. All the time. But having resources to focus it are crucial.

Therapist is also happy that I’m cultivating a new relationship with my Lady Friend. She noted that I seem to be incredibly comfortable in my sexuality. I consider myself bisexual? Yeah, I suppose. Really, I’m just sexual. The frequency of my problems and personal issues are GREATLY reduced with women, and being monogamous with men is always disastrous for me. I can be with a woman in a monogamous relationship and be content, but if I’m in a monogamous relationship with a man I feel like I’m denying a part of myself and I become incredibly uncomfortable in my own skin and in the relationship until I’m afraid it’s going to end. Yes, my parents know and accept this. Without problem, without hesitation. As far as I know. It’s not really up for discussion, I just let them know and they can choose to support me or not, but they always have.  She also thought to allay my fears that things were not sexually normal. I’m just so used to using sex as a tool, that in a healthy relationship these things progress organically and will happen when they do. Which is a relief. So odd for me though. I’m just, not used to this. Therapist is actually very proud of me for allowing myself to take safe risks. With all of the problems I have letting people close to me, I’m allowing myself another chance. And I’m doing it differently. I’m trying to remember how my past relationships have gone and I’m actively trying to remember that I need to do things differently.  It’s only been a month, and traditionally it takes a little longer for my real crazy to kick in when it comes to relationships, but I am doing things differently and so far it seems to be making a very beneficial difference. 

Memoirs on a Sunday: Ease of Sex, Not Hiding Scars, and Father’s Day

This weekend hasn’t been traumatic at all and yet, today was a disaster.

This morning I wrote:

I’ve utterly failed at not drinking… however it’s been very reasonable; 2 glasses of wine Friday, a few with the Lady Friend on Saturday. I’m not drinking today. Not even a sip. It’s a new day, and I’ll just start fresh now.

I’m actually very proud of myself. The loneliness, being alone, hasn’t been so terrible. Friday night I stayed in; Roommate was gone, didn’t go to Friends. I stayed home by myself and painted. I did have 2 glasses of wine over the course of the evening but I don’t think that’s too bad at all. The only think I continuously note is I have bedtime anxiety. I can be absolutely exhausted but the idea of turning of all the lights and crawling into bed alone gnaws at the inside of my stomach. This is relatively new in the past few months.
Yesterday I spent the day with Lady Friend. She came over and we hung out doing crafty type stuff. I organized my beads. I have so many kinds. I love to organize and sort. It feels nice and neat, catalogued and controlled. I preceded to piece together the period appropriate style of women’s fashion in 7th/8th century Viking society. I have a huge costuming event in August and I’m changing my pre-Industrial persona from fully Middle Eastern to Viking. I’ll do Middle Eastern (dancer) at night, but during the day I’m going back to my blood roots and switching to a Norse persona. After figuring out the logistics, sewing, altering, sewing… I have a perfectly accurate sack dress, haha. I made some gemstone bead lines as well. They’re the few kinds of decorations and symbols of status women wear.

Afterwards, we went out to dinner which was really nice. I don’t like how she stares at me. It makes me just a little uncomfortable and I feign modesty just to look away. She’s so super sweet though. Our waitress obviously found us super cute which I in turn thought was super cute. Super. Everything was super.
Back to my place for more craftiness. I painted. Finished a wild Caterpillar ala Alice picture. Quick and crazy inspired from watching the movie (Tim Burton shouldn’t be given free reign of movies anymore).


Things are moving rather slow sexually. This makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know what to do when people aren’t constantly trying to jump me. I know she likes me. This isn’t a question. It makes me nervous when I need to fill the silence with actual words that aren’t so easily distracting from me. I’m forced to let her get to know me instead of redirecting her eye to other things. Maybe this is normal? Or healthy? Not jumping into bed? Not constantly using sex as a distraction?  
 I don’t know how to handle this. It’s so much easier to have sex then it is to continuously think of things to say. It’s less invasive, less intrusive. I know what I’m doing in bed. That rarely gets me in trouble. The things that come out of my mouth however, and I’m not talking about my tongue here….

…talking about Talking. That’s where things go wrong. At dinner I did mention that I was on Abilify, that I struggle with depression and some stuff. She was receptive and very understanding. Not concerned with it at all. I think this is the approach I’ll be taking. Bring up bits and pieces one thing at a time. See how she responds and gauge her reactions before I drop something new on her…

One thing I’m rather curious about. She hasn’t mentioned my scars. At all. Every person I’ve ever dated notices, and mentions them almost instantly (within the first few dates). She hasn’t said anything at all. Maybe she’s respecting the fact that this is my business and is allowing me to let her know when I feel ready to? I’m just trying to figure this out. I’m never averse to talking about them. I don’t draw attention to them, but I don’t try to hide them either. They’re really just more modifications at this point. Still. It’s interesting to me.
Back to sex. Guys are so much easier in some respects. I can throw sex at them and they won’t think twice about it. The women I date, it’s not that they’re not interested in sex, they certainly are, but there’s more of an emphasis on interest in me. That’s it I suppose. I still don’t want to let her in. Not ready to be too close. Guys I can stick to surface speak keeping conversation witty and light and when things get a little too sticky for my tastes… well, turning the tables on the evenings events is not incredibly difficult to do. I don’t have to think. I don’t have to be me. I can just feel and lose myself in the moment… if I like them. Sometimes it’s really just a way to get people to shut up and make the time move forward, to do something besides feign interest in the words coming out of their mouths.
After she left I binged again. I was a little hungry, but I just can’t seem to stop at a reasonable amount of food. I ate all my leftovers from dinner, then freaked out that I’d eaten so much so late, but it wasn’t enough to easily get rid of, so I prepared a full binge that was easier to deal with. I don’t know why I do this. I don’t know why I can’t just go to bed, except after she left I had that little bedtime anxiety and I didn’t want to go lie down alone. I’d thought about asking her to stay. We were falling asleep together on the couch as is, but… idk. I’m not there yet. Too close, not too close, too close, not too close. There’s too much content in lesbian relationships. Men are easier for me. Men are just easier. Heh, sorry. I suppose I shouldn’t make that statement, but when it comes to me and dating, they’re easier to maneuver around. I can hold back, but appear to draw them closer. Preserving myself and not pushing them away too fast by appearing to draw them in closer. Heh. With Lady Friend, it’s almost entirely balanced. She’s less easily distracted, just happy to be in my company, not pushing me for more, not forcing my {nonexistent} boundaries. It’s strange. Learning to just, be. To sit, and be, in comfort. Not needing the next moment to be something other than it is. I’m not sure I know how to do this.  Time. Give it time I guess.
It’s now Sunday evening: I broke my resolve to not drink. Not a lot, just a couple glasses of wine. Then I coupled it with an all out binge/purge. I’ve been alone all day. It’s been a beautiful day. I’ve been creatively productive, but, alone. I just don’t understand why this is so hard! There’s no reason for it. I’m so incredibly frustrated. Woke up, too low energy to really work out. Did a nice painting, did some grocery shopping, sewed 3 Viking apron dresses, redid my gemstone bead drops… and I can’t shake this tension under my skin that makes me want to, want to, I don’t even know. All I know is that how I feel right now is unsettled and unhappy. After my binge I went to the craft store, just got a couple strands of beads, had a cigarette, calmed down and returned to my crafting projects. Forcing myself to concentrate on something else makes the time fly faster and I can slow the spinning thoughts down.

And to wrap it up. I have a family. It’s father’s day so I actually called mine. He’s pretty proud that I’ve been painting. Amidst the critiques he even said that what I’ve shown him so far is really great. Mixed bag sorta praise, but I’ll take it. I can do better, I have more to learn, but hey, a lot of people never learn to 
even draw stick figures (yeah he said that)… and I’m doing a really good job.

Learning how to draw trees



Finally, I miss my sister. A lot. I got a drunken text from her earlier… “I’m going to bed. But I’m also a little drunk and I miss you. Lately I have felt like I’m always going to be too short to ride the big kid roller coaster. And I would prefer to feel this way with you here because you know how to handle me. And that makes me miss you.” If you’ll remember my sister is bipolar so she’s all over the place like me too, but different. She stresses a lot about stuff, work, school etc. She’s smart it just takes her a little more effort to process school material, hence stress. She’s back in school and doing a really amazing job getting on track with what she wants to do (work with the deaf community). I’m so proud of her. Of all the things I dislike most about living in NY, it’s that my sister is 500 miles away =( It’s so rough some days. Especially on bad days, for both of us. No one has ever had the ability to reign in my moods and keep me in a calmer place than her and likewise for her, I just KNOW her so I know what helps. It makes me sad that I can’t be there for her when she needs me. I love my sister. I wish I could hang up my life here and go home to her sometimes. Can’t. My life is here now. For now. And I have to get up for work in the morning. G’night.   

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Lucid Analysis: Trials in Therapy

 

Yesterday was a productive day in therapy I think. I was in definite rapid cycle mode shift. I didn’t really feel like sharing anything, didn’t really know what to talk about, tired, irritated, hopeful, pleasant, irritable, angry.
She keeps telling me I have a healing, peaceful energy that I bring with me. That people are drawn to my natural ability to heal and ground. That I really have a wonderful influence and role model. Everytime she says things like this I get angry. I don’t see it, I don’t believe it.  
She was creating an assignment for another bulimic client of hers. She said this girl reminded her of me and in creating this assignment for her she was heavily influenced by the things I do to center myself. She handed me the assignment. As I read it was a wash of peaceful, calm, creative outlets to focus energy towards. Healthy things, not destructive. I could easily see how most of these things were influenced by me and my interests. I had these small flashes of, maybe I’m not so terrible as I think, maybe I do have redeeming qualities to offer, maybe how other people see me {positively} is not so inaccurate, not just a lie to make me feel better or manipulate me.  These small flashes were fleeting but they were like little mental peeks into a pretty part of my self-perception.
She’s very concerned about my bulimia. I only had the one incident this past week, despite wanting to more, so I say bravo for me. We’re working on why I feel the need to do this.
Triggers: The state that I am most likely to do this is when I am more stressed than usual, more emotionally taxed.  The times I am most likely to do this is when I am alone, when someone has just left.
Sometimes I think this is just practical. When I’m sitting down to a meal with someone I moderate myself easily and don’t binge. When I’m alone I have no moderator. I lose control over what I take in and then panic in a need to punish myself for this loss of control. Control is clearly an issue. Again she believes this has to do with the Punitive/Critical Parent schema.  She asked me if I believed this personality schema was all bad? I said no. There should be a part of your brain that lets you know when you are doing something wrong or detrimental to yourself or others. It’s normal. It’s when it takes over in an exaggerated, hurtful, debasing, demeaning manner that it becomes punitive and is no longer healthy or normal. This is the part that I need to work to correct. Sunday I wanted to binge after I left Friends and came home to my empty apartment, but I managed to stop myself. I was able to talk myself into just going to sleep. Ireminded myself that if I were to eat, I would feel guilty (I’d had a healthy lunch and a good dinner, no starving), eat more, and need to purge. Instead of indulging the cycle I convinced myself to lie down and just go to sleep. It’s not easy.  Not easy at all. I had to walk myself step by step through what I would end up doing and reiterate every sentence and reason for why I shouldn’t or didn’t need to; why just going to bed would be better.
NOTE: I should write out this process. Write down the feelings that come before the cycle starts in order to recognize them. Write down each action that would typically follow. Then write down a sentence to counter each action in order to bring me to a healthier conclusion. That way I have an established tool when this happens.
I showed Therapist my paintings and she was really impressed. She even wanted to give me a homework assignment having to do with expressing myself through painting. I can’t. I just can’t. She first suggested creating a picture of the Critical Parent when we talked about the unrelenting pressure I feel from my father. This idea immediately filled me with dread and anxiety like a sucker punch to the gut. I practically panicked when I told her I wouldn’t. I immediately thought of my dad and I don’t want to paint him. Especially since he is actually impressed with my painting. He thinks I have some talent here. Thinks I should look into taking some formal art courses (which I’ve never had) and pursuing this further. I don’t’ want this to be homework or a chore. I have so little time free to follow my love of this I just want to enjoy myself and let my ideas flow where they will. She tried to suggest another painting assignment but I’m not turning this into homework. I won’t.
Foreign relationship dynamic. I mentioned I don’t feel very connected to Lady Friend yet. I don’t know if it’s because it’s still early in our relationship or if it’s because when I first meet people I tend to actively keep myself held back. I don’t actually know her well and I’ve been so badly abused I hold myself at a distance. No one can plant a knife in your back without you first allowing them within arm’s reach. When people get close to you is when they can hurt you. It’s only been a month of casual dating though and she does seem to be very into me.
Therapist’s first question was: So when was the last time you had a healthy, nurturing relationship like this? Blank. I honestly cannot remember. I’ve had a lot of long, emotionally unattached/unhealthy relationships or very short relationships that I’ve either bolted from or set on fire and burned to the ground. But not healthy, nurturing relationships. Therapist thinks that part of my problem may be that I simply don’t recognize this feeling. Since it’s not fraught with conflict and upset it’s such an unfamiliar concept to me that it doesn’t register with me as what a relationship should look like. Just let it flow as it will and try to be receptive to where it goes without putting pressure or expectation on it.
Future consideration: Telling Lady Friend about my BPD. I haven’t really dated seriously since my diagnosis {having been very involved with Friend for so long and he knows} so I haven’t had to have ‘a talk’ about my BPD with someone. I don’t know how much to tell her. When is appropriate to tell her? What will happen if I tell her? Or if I even want to tell her at all? Honestly I think she’d probably take it in stride. I’ve mentioned things like my past OCD, anxiety, and my issues of object constancy; sort of bringing up pieces when the conversation is relevant. I don’t know though.
Holy crap let me tell you how freaking irritated I get with Therapist. She talks so bloody much it drives me insane. And she gets on this one topic of inter-subjective fields that I want to gag her. I know her perceptions of inter-subjective fields and how she wants therapy to be a safe space for me and how since I’m very perceptive that she doesn’t want her life or the spaces of her other clients to interfere with my space because therapy is just about me and she doesn’t want these other influencing spheres to cross any boundaries. I drift off and cannot focus on a word she says. Or if I do I just get so irritated and angry I don’t want to listen to her.
Especially since I don’t think I have boundaries.
She asked me what I meant by this. I don’t know honestly. It seems to me that I’ve always held such rigid beliefs, hid so much of myself away, feared embarrassment or humiliation for so long – very, very rigid boundaries… then after living with Evil-Ex, he would take every little piece of ammunition he could gather against me and if he perceived a vulnerable point in me or an opportunity he would use what he had against me to humiliate me. What strikes me is my reaction or lack of reactions. I have almost a casual resignation to these experiences. They happened. There’s nothing to do for it now. I believed I would feel a certain way, that my world would be impacted in a way that was so detrimental, and yet, it wasn’t, nothing that I believed would happen, happened. In fact, probably no one cared at all. Just me. So if all these rigid ideas and beliefs that the thought of having them crossed created so much anxiety in me, if they’re not what I believe they are, is anything I believe what I think it is. Is any of this imposed rigidity necessary? It seems to me that regardless of whether I believe I need these things, when I’m presented with a violation of them, I continue on anyways. Move on. Nothing stops. Nothing ends. Do I need these concepts of boundaries at all if they aren’t enforceable? They no longer seem to be there anyways.
In a way this may seem very Zen. Therapist is pretty adamant that boundaries are necessary to establish for oneself. I can see how this is unhealthy for me because in regards to myself, I’ve let things like rape and assault wash over me. I detach, dissociate, repress, and continue on, but I don’t devastate. In the moment, maybe, but it doesn’t last for long. If it doesn’t last, than are they really hurtful? If I pull myself together and keep going was it really so traumatic? Would having boundaries have helped me out of these places or prevented me from being there in the first place? Probably. But not having boundaries didn’t kill me. What doesn’t kill you and all… but do I really want to continue to test that theory? No. There absolutely are things that are inappropriate. Violations no one has a right to breach. Just because I got through does not mean that I no longer need to build these back up; reestablish what is acceptable for the future. Having gone through it before, lived through it before, does not make it okay for it to happen again, even knowing that it is survivable. Should be more than mere survival to really live.
Around and around my ruminations go.  
Homework: Create a space within you in order to establish boundaries which you believe are acceptable for your life.

Memoirs on a Sunday: Weekend Randomness

Let’s throw a little of my life out there. I may make this a weekend series on Sundays. 


I do this blog as a chance to give some insight into the life of someone with Borderline Personality Disorder however I feel like if I ONLY focus on the multitudes of  BPD characteristics I’m losing a little bit of the human aspect that I want to convey. So, just to sort of give an idea of what else goes on in my life that’s not solely centered around BPD, I think I’ll do some random weekend postings. Hopefully a different side of me, or at least a more well rounded view of me, highlighting other areas of interest. While my borderline issues are clearly problematic, I’m not running around like a giant ball of static and charge 24/7. I don’t know. Maybe it’ll give some insight into the little daily effects BPD has on me, how other aspects are seemingly unaffected, and how little patterns emerge, converge, and dissipate in time. We’ll see how it goes.

I’ve decided to do a cleanse again starting Monday. Salt flush in the mornings with only ‘liquid’ foods for 10 days. Liquid = juice, water, yogurt, soup, etc. Nothing solid. I have 5 more pounds to lose and I can’t shock my system into budging. This’ll do it.  I feel like I’m falling to bad eating habits again too what with eating out a little more than usual I want to make sure I watch myself. I’ve also been feeling bogged down with everything and the cleanse is good for the body. First couple days I’m a little irritable and headachey. Must make sure to hydrate. 


With the season change and the mornings being lighter earlier my insomnia has been worse and I haven’t been getting any sleep. At least I hope it’s the season change. The only other option is that it’s my medication and I actually like my Abilify so far. I want this to work out. I have however decided to stop fighting the no sleep and be productive. Or at least creative. I started painting 2-3 weeks back. So when I can’t sleep I do this

Ganesha
and this: 
Red Sky Dawns
Picasso I am not. But I don’t think it’s half bad for never having painted before in my life. I absolutely love it too.
Saturday was a really productive day. Again, I woke up with the sun but I overhauled our apartment to make our 2nd bathroom function. Roommate has been using the shower as a 5th storage closet for all her stuff but with me dating again and her bf, we really sort of need the 2nd shower. There’s been too many days when I’m irritated that I can’t take a shower and start to worry about the time crunch. I was so exhausted but I got it done, then headed to the gym. I started a new painting, went to the grocery 3 times and prepped to make dinner for LadyFriend. I don’t think I’ve made a cute romantic dinner for two since I moved in here. My first time making dinner for her =) I made a Lightly Curried Peanut Bisque, Israeli Couscous with dried apricots, cranberries and pistachios, and Portobello Bruschetta with Rosemary Aioli. I do so love to cook. Especially since I make so many things at one time, my mind is so utterly occupied there’s no room for thoughts of other things. The food came out beautifully. So delicious and I had a really nice time with her.
Friday night I went to Friend’s for movie night. I didn’t actually pay much attention to the movies though. Quirky spoofy horror movies. If you like them, check out Rockula. It’s a stitch. I spent the majority of the night crafting. I was figuring out how to make tribal hair falls. I so love being crafty.
They’re actually pretty easy to make. I can’t believe how much these things sell for where I vacation. I tried to pay attention to the conversation but I was feeling more than a little irritable and hypersensitive. A buddy of mine was sitting next to me, and Friend was on the other couch. They were both trying to talk at the same time and I felt like my mind was going to dig a hole in itself and retreat. My brain vibrating into a smaller and smaller place. I could hear sounds but it was so much static I couldn’t make out what either of them were saying, it was just too much voice at one time. Too much volleying. The only thing I could do was tune them out sometimes or my head would start to hurt. 
So mostly I crafted and later ended up dozing off on Friend during the last movie. I wasn’t feeling particularly social. And even when I stopped crafting I couldn’t get into the groove of conversation. I felt a little out of place. Like everyone else was so much more animated and sociable and I was off on my own little couch cushion island.
We had wine and chatted through dinner. Our conversation doesn’t flow particularly well and it seems like there’s a little something missing. Idk. I’m not incredibly attached to her yet, but it’s still early in our relationship. I generally fight attachments for a while, maintain something of an open yet distant stance. I really like her, but getting too close to people is when things go wrong, but then again I do want to give this and myself a chance. Our chemistry is pretty apparent otherwise though, haha ::wink::.
Upsettingly after she left something in my brain made me binge and that lead to the inevitable. I don’t even understand why. It was so late and I was so exhausted and I still managed to take the time to do that.
Sunday I was supposed to go to an event in the Bronx but due to inclement weather, that didn’t happen. I’d attempted the gym but only got like 4 hours of sleep so my body just wasn’t in it. I’m starting to accumulate a lot of workout guilt because I’ve been too exhausted to expend the energy. I worry about every little thing I put in my body because I haven’t been able to exercise properly.  Instead I spent the day with Friend doing crafty stuff. We’re working on our light sabers.  Yes, light sabers. Fully electronic/LED functioning light sabers. I’m stoked to be working more on my Star Wars costume. I have a bunch of little changes I’m making to it. I’m going to redo my Twi’lek lekku to make the headband connection match the rest of my outfit. Since my persona is Sith alchemist/sorcerer I’m incorporating a more Tribal feel to the costume as well. Hence the tribal falls I’m working on.  I also started a new painting. I’m borderline obsessing about this new hobby. I wake up with the sun and my mind starts whirring about color blends and brush strokes; the project that I’m working on. As far as ruminations go, at least this one is a healthy outlet. And so much fun.
It’s seriously a good thing that I do manage some impulse control because there are days when calling in to work in order to stay home and paint are really high!
It was a long day of crafting, food, and gathering supplies for future projects. Starting to wear down. Too much stimulus I just can’t keep up the energy some days. Especially when I’m not sleeping. I feel like I’m floating off in my own head. The silence is deafening right now. No one’s home and it’s too quiet. Tomorrow’s another day, happily.

Lucid Analysis: Trials in Therapy

I missed therapy last week because I was in Chicago. The brakes on my car went out so I missed therapy this Monday too, but my therapist was too concerned to let me go a whole other week and squeezed me in late last night.
I’ve been a serious mess. I missed my psychiatrist appointment some time ago b/c they didn’t call to remind me like they always do. I haven’t rescheduled. I don’t know if I want to go back. I decided I wasn’t going to take the Respirdal. Having not rescheduled my Pdoc appointment I’m almost out of my Lamictal, which I’m fine with. I’m weaning myself off. For the last few months I’ve been having really bad night sweats (gross, I know), and for the last two months I haven’t had my period (no, I’m not pregnant). I’ll go back eventually I’m sure.  The thought of going back is making me really anxious and I don’t want to. I have been massively depressed the last few days but idk if this is because I’m coming off my meds or because the last week or two is just catching up to me and I’ve been exhausted. Anyways.
One of the first things my therapist said to me when I sat down was, “Wow, have you lost weight? You look like you’ve lost a lot of weight”.  She didn’t really know me before I put on all the weight from the Symbyax so she doesn’t recognize this as being closer to my normal weight. However, my periodic bulimia has also become not so periodic. I’ve been binging, or just purging what I perceive as having eaten too much… almost every night for the last week. My weight loss has not actually been in any way dramatic in the last week though, so it’s probably a combination of that and my steady, healthier, weight loss.  Last night was the first night I was really able to monitor myself and I didn’t throw up.  She’s especially concerned because this is clearly an indicator of underlying emotional issues. I’ve been bored and lonely and I feel like I can’t fill up the time alone in my head. Food is there,  it’s something to do, it keeps me busy, it’s comforting and satisfying, it fills me up physically… until it isn’t, and I realize I’ve gone too far and I’ll be paying for it in the morning. Then there’s the release, and I feel calm, and more in control. Release. Calm. Control. This is not the right way to go about finding these things.
She thinks a lot of my underlying issues still revolve around Friend and how I’m trying to maintain one aspect of our relationship (our friendship) while repressing and shutting down the feelings that came with the physical/emotional aspect of it. She thinks this conflict is causing me a lot of distress. I think I’m sick of all of it. I’m lonely. I’m very, very lonely.  I need to accept the fact that Friend can not be the kind of friend I am used to and want to have. Accept this on all levels, not just the part where I obviously know this cognitively. I’m afraid to lose my friend, that I’ll lose one of the very few strong connections I have. A connection that I already feel is falling away from me. I can’t reconcile wanting to be friends with him and wanting to not be affected by him. I just want to enjoy the friendship and interests we have in common, but another part of my brain is yelling about how hurt it still is and won’t let me let go of it so I can just relax back into the comfortable space we used to share. It feels like a physical clashing inside my head. I’m lonely. I’m alone. I have no control over this feeling or this state.
From Myself towards Friend I want: To be free of the emotional baggage, have my friendship, and not feel used by everything that went on.
For Myself I want: Someone that I enjoy spending time with, that cares about me, and can be the kind of person that I need to have in my life.
Two separate things, of two separate sources.
Speaking of… I have a date Saturday =) I’m so out of the loop on this whole dating thing. I am really looking forward to it though. We seem to have a lot in common and she really does seem to be a warm, caring, positive person. One day at a time concerning her, but she’s someone to look forward to. If nothing else, a new friendship is healthy.
My therapist is hopeful. That I’m trying is even more important though. It’s so easy to stay locked in the same ruts and routines, regardless of how unhealthy they’ve become. It’s hard for me to pull myself away from something so familiar. I fall into those patterns because they’re predictable, they don’t change, I know what is coming next … even when it inevitably isn’t exactly what it was the time before. I have no way of predicting things I haven’t done before.
I don’t even know how to explain the anxiety that comes with the unexpected. What I’ve had before might not be good but it’s not surprising, there’s some line connecting the dots of the past, present, and future. I can’t predict everything, but I have some semblance of where my feet will fall. Pulling myself away from that familiarity… could lead down a path of wonderful adventures, but it’s all an unknown. What if it doesn’t work out and then I can’t find my way back? If I stop my patterns from before, I won’t be able to pick up where I left off. My connection will have slipped and I’ll be foreign there too.
What irritates me is I’m not a timid person. I’m not shy. I don’t let others lead me by the hand. I don’t balk at beginning new projects or endeavors… except when it comes to people. I’m still holding on to those last shredded threads of what had been this relationship. I don’t know how to let go and not lose all of it forever. I don’t know how to leave behind what something was and let it evolve into what it will be. It’s a leap of faith I need to take in myself.
All I can do is try.
           
She wanted to give me a journaling assignment and I could see her wanting to come up with something revolving around my bulimia but she decided against it. Instead:
Homework: Journal. Think about the therapeutic relationship I have with my therapist, whether I feel the space is safe, I feel she understands me, respects my boundaries, etc.
The things that immediately come to mind:
1.)    I still don’t feel a connection to my therapist. Clearly I know and recognize her, but I don’t have any real attachment to her. I doubt this is her fault.
2.) I don’t think she sees me for me at all. However, I also think this is because my view of myself is so distorted. I’m not sure I actually see me for me.  I’m a depressed, terrible, flawed person. I know all of my faults and imperfections. I see them all clearly. She tells me that I’m a role model for how well I treat those around me, for all that I’ve accomplished, that I’m capable of doing etc. What she sees in me, I don’t see in me. Is this her failing or mine? Probably mine.  She chooses to focus on the positive. I almost exclusively see the negative. I feel like she’s ignoring the negative because she wants to see the positive, but I’m beginning to wonder if she’s really just trying to get me to see myself in a more rounded way. She obviously works with me on the imperfect parts of my life. She’s not ignoring that. Maybe she just doesn’t have as hard a time remembering the other aspects of my life that I don’t seem to be able to hold onto.
3.) I’m not sure I have boundaries. If she doesn’t push my boundaries how am I going to uncover what I need to figure out about myself? If anyone should be able to pull me out of my comfort zone and confront the aspects of myself that I don’t want to face, it should be her. Right?
Those are my thoughts for today. I’m a little out of it. Distinctly depersonalizing more often, again.

Shadow of my Self

Losing control of my mask.

It was a weekend. A long, long weekend. I’m including Monday in this too, even though I was technically working. I took a day trip to Chicago for my job. Up at 4:30a.m. to fly out, back by midnight flying back.

Friday I hung out with Friend. I don’t know why I was there. Usually I feel some connection. I was alone in that room. Watching movies, geeking out, I couldn’t contribute. He kept talking, I wish he wouldn’t, I couldn’t think. I had nothing to say. I found myself mindlessly agreeing with him. About nothing particularly important, but I no longer had anything to say to him. He doesn’t even feel familiar to me.
No one does. Monday, waiting for my plane I texted all the friends I should feel close to. Nothing. Empty. Hollow tubes connecting where solid ties should exist. I don’t know what to do.
Saturday I knew it would be a bad day. As soon as I got home from Friends the night before I knew I was alone. Utterly. I slept as much as I could. Forcing my sleeping drugs down my throat to not feel. Saved by an unlikely source, my tattoo artist called me and I hung out at the shop going over his design. It’s not right, not yet. I’m obsessing over it. Figuring out how to make it more my own. I’ll sit down with him again this week, but I need to do it before Saturday when I’m having it done. I’m dreaming about it, how it can go wrong. How I’ll settle to not upset him since he put so much work into it already. But this needs to be about me, not just his talent. I will live with this and I can’t let someone else   I can’t. I have to remember this. Too often I let others have too much leeway. This is one area I cannot compromise. I’ll take this for me, because it is for me.
Sunday, I hung out with another guy I’m becoming friends with. I don’t know how to discourage him from liking me in a way that is more than I can offer, more than I care to offer. I don’t want to lead him on. I’m suspicious this is the only reason he’s around. I’m unable to not question his motives. I don’t know if I’m paranoid or perceptive. Got home that night and I finally gave in. Alone in my apartment I drank, ate, binged, purged. The last thought before going to bed should not be, this is how bulimia is supposed to be.
Monday I took a day trip to Chicago for my job. Up at 4:30a.m. to fly out, back by midnight flying back.  Me and a colleague, networking with others in my industry.
I couldn’t maintain my mask. People talk about masks occasionally. That image you present to the outside world to cover up what hides inside. The shroud thrown over your true Self to blend in with the crowd. Masking the madness within. It didn’t crumble completely. The weight of being someone I’m not for so long at one time, for someone that knows nothing of me other than the professionalism I present. There was no walking away. No slipping out to slough off the pressure pulling me down.
I work alone, occasionally mingling with coworkers. I can take a break when I need to drop the façade with no one monitoring me. During the day, meeting other professionals in my field, I held up. I held up for a long time. Too long. Usually I can walk away, take some time to release the pressure building up from crushing down my core. No opportunity this day. Not even a minute for me.

 

Walking the Ring I felt myself floating away. My mind reeling in that depersonalized spiral. My surroundings surreal. Watching the wall of electronics and machinery I floated two feet to my right. Hovering heady and light. I felt too tall; disembodied.  I’ve become so used to my dissociated emotions, but I have generally felt grounded. My body my own. Not this time.
Next, visiting a manufacturer, touring the machine shop my vision blurred. I viewed everything through a foggy lens that wouldn’t rub from my glasses. I love machine shops, the noise, the smell, the rush of productivity… too much, too much for me that day. I couldn’t focus my thoughts; I couldn’t tune my attention to what was being told to me.  I relied too much on my colleague to keep up the conversation. Interjecting only when I knew I needed to.
By the time we got back to the airport I could no longer project the professionalism. Not an emotional crumble, but too personal. Talk of school, spending my time alone, geekery, movies, forgetting to watch my pronouns, I felt like I was lying when I mentioned past boyfriends knowing that this was not my preference; knowing I did this only to redirect attention from a part of me I’ve embraced. I’m not used to repressing parts of me that I am believe in. Hiding in a closet has never been my way; however I never spend time socially with colleagues making it easy for me to never mention it. Professional is not personal, and my personal has no place in my professional. My identities don’t bleed together. There is no seamless transition. There is one, or there is the other. I tried to toe this line, but even talking about subjects that were safer I felt myself hunching over my beer, staring into the amber liquid looking for a way out. I played to my exhaustion, and his. It’s all I could think to do.
Coming into work this morning I feel well rested. I feel utterly out of place. This is not my environment. It’s wrong. Clothes that don’t fit, an office that is not me, air I can’t breathe. I no longer have a choice. I picked my path and now I have to see it through, but something broke. I don’t know how to pick up the pieces; glue them back together. The cracks in my armor are apparent to me and everyone will see that my façade is a fraud. I’m sure of it. I’m living someone else’s life.

Lucid Analysis: Trials in Therapy – 5

Therapy last night was an ordeal. I was exhausted and run down. I didn’t feel like talking. I honestly didn’t want to be there.



Bottled



Sometimes I wonder if my therapist understands me at all. She keeps going on about Friend. I’ve been more down than usual, she thinks in part because it is their 10th year anniversary and it keeps coming up. I mentioned previously that I have no intention of attending their gathering.  Did I mention that Friend asked me to babysit so they could go out to dinner one night? Seriously? As soon as he asked me I wanted to punch him in the face and scream at him. My self-control is better than that now and what I ended up saying was ‘no, babysitting really isn’t my thing’. Which he knows so it was a plausible excuse. Yet he still asked me (Asshat).  I instantly feel guilty for not doing it, but I’d hate myself and trigger myself into doing something stupid if I did. I want nothing to do with this event. I say good for me. Yesterday the wife IMd me to help her find an anniversary present for him. WTF?!? Either I’m really that good at hiding my hatred of this whole thing, they’re utterly oblivious to my residual feelings (Friend) or intentionally poking at me because wife is a huge bitch (Yes). Therapist thinks their insensitivity is causing me to spiral down. If Friend was really caring he would know that this bothers me and not put me in a position to make me uncomfortable. Dick. I just kept saying, ‘it’s whatever, he’s a guy, what am I supposed to do about, he’s just a guy’.  Considering how close we were, and how much I cared about him, maybe even loved him, that I’m Splitting him into the all bad category in my life is my inner Angry Child acting out.
I thought this session was a complete waste until about 5 minutes before it was supposed to end. Then she started to upset me. Whatever she was saying made me face how I was really feeling. I had to confront the fact that I was feeling jealous, hurt, because such an intense part of our connection changed and was basically abandoned. She said I need to pay attention to those feelings of hurt and jealousy. Don’t dismiss them. That I am feeling these emotions means that I am lacking something in my life. I’m missing those things that would counter those emotions. I need to find something healthy to fill that void.
Note: Pay attention to my feelings. Negative emotions indicate a lack of something I need.
Therapist again, brought up the idea that maybe this relationship is no longer a healing relationship for me. That continuing to spend so much time with him, talking to him may be triggering my depression. What I had to make clear to her was I’m always depressed. I’ve been depressed since I was 12, this isn’t new. I did finally have to admit that he was contributing to it though.
Homework: Get out. Begin to form new relationships outside of him and the people connected to him.
I honestly have not felt ready for this, but after this session I think I should. I’ve been casually chatting with a woman I met on-line (don’t judge). Last time we communicated she gave me her phone number. I’m going to text her at lunch and see if she responds. I brought my phone charger to work so I couldn’t sabotage this plan and use my phone dying as an excuse to not do this (I need a new battery). That I’ve been so hesitant about this has meant to me that I’m not ready to be involved. Last night I came to a place that I think I can at least reach out, is a step in a healthier direction. I’m going to try. Maybe nothing will come of it, but at least I’m making an effort. I even have little thoughts and visions of double dating with Roommate or some other friends that live out by her. That’s good right? A little vindictive part of me hopes this makes Friend jealous, but it’s just a little voice in the back of my mind.  
Also, Sunday I did hang out with another guy I’ve known for ages. When I finally got home I was starving b/c I hadn’t eaten since my run. Poured myself a glass of wine and had dinner, then a snack, then more food until I binged out completely. Purge. Your last thought before going to bed should not be “this is how bulimia is supposed to work”::headdesk:: Therapist was obviously concerned about this. That my bulimia is coming back regularly is an indicator of my depression and my feeling out of control. This is most likely the result of my emotions revolving around Friend. Going out makes me worry I’m abandoning something and that’s scary for me, because my going out, will make him jealous, angry and push me out. She hopes he’ll tell me that I am important to him and that he will not discard our friendship because I am making new ones. I need to get past this.
I had no intention of really talking much this session. I don’t feel all that connected to Therapist and I didn’t want to say anything. For the beginning of it I was aloof, detached, I couldn’t focus on what she was saying, and honestly I did not care. I know it showed. She mentioned I seemed disgusted. Around mid-session I was starting to get angry, very angry, but still detached from my deeper emotions. I was lashing out about the wife and even swearing. I KNOW Therapist was trying to push me past this. She was actually trying to upset me, but in a direction away from anger. By 5 minutes to the end she did it. I shifted again and she actually made me start to cry. I hate this. HATE this. I hate myself for not being able to control this. I do have to admit that these were feelings I needed to face and work through. She ended up keeping me in session for a half hour after our time was up because she wanted to continue helping me work through this. I was ready to run out the door by this point and I practically did. I felt more connected to her at the end.
On a different note, when I told her about my tattoo consultation she was a little worried that I was going hypomanic because my excitement and up mood was so unusual for me and disproportionate to what that should have inspired. She’s not worried that it’s an impulsive decision. She is a little worried that I’m completely unconcerned with how much pain it’s going to cause. I have very little fat on my ribs and the majority of this piece is going to be right there, which is a notoriously painful location for tats. My other tattoos didn’t really hurt at all. Pain is normal for tattoos though. It’s really just something you have to accept if you’re going to have them done.  Maybe I’m rationalizing, but it is the reality of the thing.
She also told me to come in Thursday if I felt I needed it. I doubt I will but that she’s suggesting two sessions a week again is disconcerting. Sigh.

Lucid Analysis: Trials in Therapy – 4

Monday was a good therapy session. Again, not one I got incredibly worked up over but productive none the less.
We talked about how my recent trip home to see my family affected me, how it triggered me.
My mom especially. My dad doesn’t seem to have an incredible interest in what’s going on with me. He really doesn’t engage me or start conversations with me unless I start talking first. I wonder if this is because my issues make him uncomfortable. Hm, I’m actually just realizing this as I type. My mom however starts talking to me the second I’m within sight and does not shut up. She automatically inspires the most irrational anger in me. I know this is a byproduct of my growing up and probably because she was so ‘interested’ in my life. Instead of talking to me, she’d search for my journals and read them.  I don’t trust her at all. She’d then talk to me about it, tell me of her disapproval (to be fair a lot of that disapproval was justified) and sometimes ground me for things that I did, instead of talking to me and helping me go about things in a better way. Act more appropriately. It cultivated my mistrust of her. That she takes such an interest in my life now still makes me very angry, because it feels intrusive to me even though I know she just cares. Trigger.
I was very closed off to them, to everyone. I refused to talk about my feelings, I refused to ask for help, I refused to get help. Since I was 12-ish for sure. Even before this though I was afraid that asking for help would mean I wasn’t good enough, would be a sign of weakness in my abilities. This is a direct result of how critical my father was. Anytime I did any kind of art he would ‘critique’ it. Not in a mean way. It was always directed as a means to help me ‘improve’, but I get overly happy when he does praise me and I need to keep inspiring this so I push myself harder.
This translates into how I am now. How I need to do things for other people that make them happy, that they’ll praise me for. It’s why, despite the fact that I can be mad at Friend, and really don’t like wife, I continue to cook for them because I know it’s something I’m good at and they’ll show their appreciation for it. This is especially necessary for me because my father was such a picky eater. He only likes a few select foods so when I would make new things that I liked and the rest of my family enjoyed he would either not try it or only try a little bit and let me know that he didn’t like it. I’ve always told myself this was simply because he didn’t like a variety of things, which he doesn’t, but he has never been encouraging. Even when I make new things when I visit he always comments on how ‘it stinks up the kitchen’. Those few times though, those few rare amazing times when he has liked what I made were my proudest moments. Since he was so critical, he never just placated me, I absolutely believed the compliments he would give.  Especially when I cook, when Friend or my other friends tell me they really enjoy what I make I am filled with an extraordinary sense of happiness that I am appreciated, while at the same time I don’t necessarily believe them. Amusingly the only one I really believe is Friends wife. I ask for criticism or how I can improve on some things (I cook meat dishes for people even though I’m strict vegetarian and have no idea what meat tastes like). She’s the only one that critiques me, though she is also very impressed with my abilities and has enjoyed everything I make for them, but she’s also one of the only people I believe. (She often tells people that ‘Haven makes vegetables taste like food’ or ‘Make whatever you want it’s going to be good.) Heh, but that I seek criticism and that’s the only thing I truly believe is obviously a direct result of how my father raised me. Trigger.
We didn’t talk about my brother. That my sister is the only one in this world that I truly connect to makes her my strongest base. I was horrible to her. I took out a lot of my anger on her and she was afraid of me. Until one night I came home and saw that she had been cutting as a direct result of the pressure she felt from our father. My entire relationship with her changed that night. She was afraid to talk to them about how she felt. She was always the angel, I was the devil. As a result she felt overly pressured, incapable of doing things that would possibly make them mad. I fought with them constantly and ‘didn’t need their approval’. Clearly I rebelled against them, but they’d never abandoned me for all my horrible behavior so I was able to convince her to at least sit down and talk with them so they could understand that she needed something different. Which she was able to do. We bonded over  something so ingrained in us, understood each other on a different level than we had before and realized that we could lean on each other when we needed help. She’s my best friend in the world and I would do anything for her. I love her with everything I have. I mistrust my parents, even now.
I get incredibly anxious when my sister is late getting home. I need her to be there to feel grounded. Safe. To the extent that I don’t want to go back, be there at all, if she’s not there.
Therapist doesn’t seem to be worried about the fact that I needed to have a couple drinks to deal with the barrage of questions and interest in my life that the rest of my family inspires (holiday gathering at my relatives – all of my relatives, both sides of my family). I see my family so rarely that when I do it’s practically nonstop questions and explanations. Fortunately ( I think?) my mom’s side of the family isn’t very interested in me. I was always so rebellious, so different, that they never took an interest in me. I don’t think I talked to them at all except for my aunt telling me I looked really good and lost a lot of weight (she hasn’t seen me since I was on the Symbyax that made me gain weight).  That was nice. The rest of my family though is very interested in my new job and my mental state. I can only deal with so much. So much attention is overwhelming. So I have a couple drinks to calm down. I knew before I went over that I’d be drinking though. Therapist is much more worried about my bulimia. I’m usually very good at keeping this under control. Until the holiday gatherings start. I’ve never had trust issues with my dad’s side of the family. I actually think I connect to them better than my parents. I’m  really not sure what the exact trigger here is. My parents? My mom’s side of the family? The questions? My bulimia has always been a form of control for me, so I know it has to have something to do with feeling out of control. Why the rest of my family would make me feel so out of control is still a mystery to me currently.
Note:  Identifying those issues that trigger me is the first step in figuring out how to avoid them and control them in the future.
Emo moment
Then we talked about my Abandonment issues and why Friend going out made me so ‘unhappy’  (read: hurt, anxious, depressed, jealous, left out, unnecessary, afraid). The real problem here is that I do feel like if he has more people around he won’t need me as a friend anymore. That I won’t be so important to him. That he’ll reject and abandon our friendship. Therapist is beginning to worry that our friendship is holding me back. That he triggers my abandonment issues is not healthy. I cling to our friendship too strongly. I do forsake going out on my own to meet new people because if I do I won’t be able to spend more time with him. If I go out more our friendship won’t be as strong. He will find other people. I’ll be replaced. She wants him to tell me that he doesn’t want our friendship to end, that he won’t leave me, but he should encourage me to form new, healthy relationships outside of our friendship.  That {six} years down the line we’ll still be friends. I have no way of believing this though, because I’ve never had close proximity friendships that have lasted this long in (though I have had friendship that lasted much longer than this).  I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m ready to open myself up to anyone new yet. I’m tired of being hurt. I don’t think I can do that again right now. Therapist thinks I should though.
Homework: Stop being a hermit. Get out more, outside of going to Friends’. Cultivate new relationships.
Therapist also breached the topic of wanting family, what I thought motherly qualities should be. Not that I want to have kids, but what qualities do I believe a mother should have, and how would I display these. If, if, I were to have kids, how would I demonstrate these qualities, blah blah blah.
Point:  It’s a helpful exercise to understand where I think my family failed. How I wish they had done things differently with me. 
Finally she asked about what I’d been drawing lately. Mostly I’ve been drawing my next tattoo. She was a little concerned about this because it’s so large (will hit me under my breast, down my entire right side, and over my hip). She asked me if we needed to talk about it in further sessions. I told her ‘no’ I would get it regardless. She laughed at my ‘rebelliousness’.
Update on this Friend Abandonment issue; when I was over Monday out of nowhere he did say that I should pick up the activity and join them in the future. This made me too happy and my mood improved for the rest of the night. Then my paranoia kicked in that he’s reading my blog which would make me incredibly unhappy and probably (probably? Geezus) pissed off. Bleh. I want him to include me because he enjoys my company, not because he feels obligated to me. Then I remembered that he made this offer before I’d posted about it, so my paranoia is completely crazy and entirely composed in my own mind, but that still didn’t stop me from having a small anxiety attack.
So yeah, productive day in therapy. Long, long post. Again, sorry about the day switching for this.

‘Holidays’ with the Family…

I know today is supposed to be my Trials in Therapy day, but in order to understand what we talked about I need to give the background. I’ll either post my Lucid Analysis later today or do it tomorrow. Background first, therapy second.  Sorry for the change up =/
So this past weekend I got to fly home to visit my family. This is not my favorite thing ever. Not the seeing my family part; the catching a late flight Friday after work and an early flight Sunday to get back. This translates into a 1.25 day weekend that isn’t spent in airports and planes. I’m anxious about leaving NY because I feel {relatively} grounded here, and sad before I even get home because I know I’m just going to have to leave practically as soon as I get there.



We have matching tattoos



Saturday rolls around. My sister is ridiculous late getting home which makes me anxious. This is going to cause us to be late to the family gathering which makes me panic. I CAN NOT be late to things. Can not. I’ve managed to beat out most of my OCD tendencies but I can’t let go of my preoccupation with time and being on time (maybe I’ll talk about this later). She finally gets home and I’m elated. Of everyone in this world she is the only one I never detach from. She grounds me and stabilizes me. Which is kind of ironic because I’m BPD and she’s bipolar so between the two of us we have all the rollercoaster emotions. All of them. Her BF didn’t come up with her. That was a little disappointing since I’ve gotten used to seeing him for family things. Plus he’s just a good guy and ridiculous funny.
 We went to my family gathering where we immediately started drinking. This does help calm me down through the barrage of family questioning about the new job, how I’m dealing with my PD, how I’m doing in NY, etc. It’s really overwhelming to be bombarded with so much attention like that. Blessedly my sis and I were able to break away from the crowd for some much needed catching up.  I was doing really well all day with watching what I ate/drank. Dinner came and went. Even then I did very well. After that I got up to catch my breath for a bit and completely binged out of nowhere. I had no intentions of it, but I couldn’t stop myself so I didn’t. The inevitable purge followed. That was my only slip up though. Once during the whole day is good for me when it comes to family foodie gatherings. Meh. Wasn’t very social after this.
Plus Friend was texting me about his fun male bonding stuff which stupidly makes me very jealous and feeling left out. I’m depressed, sad, and angry that he can have a good time without me. Not to mention incredibly anxious that since he’s making guy friends he won’t need to be friends with me now. With other people to do stuff with he’ll abandon me and I’ll be alone again. What’s even more dumb is one of my other buddies that he went with actually invited me to do stuff with them next time. Instead of being grateful I feel guilty like I’d be intruding. Like he’s only asking me to come because I said it sounded like they had a lot of fun and that must have guilted him into it and not because he really wants me there. 
Sunday I was flat out horribly depressed. Leaving my sister. Spending 8 hours in airport/planes (had a connecting flight). This did not translate well when my first flight was more turbulent than any other flight I’ve ever been on. I was in tears and wanted to grab onto the guy sitting next to me (he was kinda cute).  I DO NOT want to die. This thought terrifies me. I am in the unfortunate position of knowing way too much about planes/jets/spacecraft. Ok, so I do know how safe aircraft are designed to be, and I do know just how much punishment they can take before an emergency happens. However, I also know all the workings inside and out and as a result know just how much can go wrong as well. Flat out panic attack. Fortunately I manage to keep quiet from a lifetime of suppressing my emotional manifestations. Got off the plane, headed straight to the bar. Where I met a few guys and drank way too much. This did help my passing out all through the 2nd flight.  Much more pleasant experience. An old buddy of mine picked me up at the airport where he managed to trigger me about some friends that messed me up and I ultimately did away with (which doesn’t make me feel less abandoned by them because what happened truly was not my fault but if they really cared about me they wouldn’t have done it). I came back to an empty apartment because Roommate was doing the Easter thing with her family. Fail. By then I was ravenously hungry, got take out and ate everything I could get my hands on. Which only worked to freak me out about how much I had just consumed and unsurprisingly I had to purge it all. ::sigh:: Not my best day ever.  Not my best weekend ever. Holidays with the family are always rough for me though.
I was going to make light of my holiday weekend bulimia but I realized this was self-defeating and my goal was to NOT do these things. I need to encourage myself to do better, not set myself up to fail. As far as this goes, I actually did pretty well {for me}. Next time maybe I’ll be able to do better.