Really, I'm Okay: The Borderline and the Relationship

It has been over two weeks since my last session with my therapist (she was on vacation), and up until last evening, I was doing fabulous. It might seem odd that I am feeling a sense of withdrawal, but let me tell you, individual therapy is critical for Borderline. In the early stages of treatment, when a sense of abandonment is rather prominent, being without that checkpoint each week can really throw my sense of mental balance.

Somehow, despite being physically ill, and being tossed a plethora of emotional hurdles, I have been floating high. Part of it may have to do with being included in RAINN's Survivor Spotlight Series, which brought some exposure to my cause in being an advocate through my blogging and music. Another part may be because I have had a lot of musical projects to work on, keeping me happy and busy.

I was able to "radically accept" many difficult road blocks that were thrown in my path, but there came a few points where my vulnerabilities proved me wrong. I'd like to believe that being sick, combined with the exhausting life of a stay-at-home mother, is what led me to break down. I am lucky that my husband was able to soak in my tears non-judgementally, especially when my therapist wasn't readily available.

One of these moments was due to a sense of structure being broken down. I am the type of person that if I have plans, and I am rather excited about them, I tend to fall apart if something gets in the way of me fulfilling those plans. Granted, I have improved ten-fold with these situations since starting DBT, because I have learned a sense of flexibility I didn't have before. Yet, this particular afternoon, I was miserable from being sick, the weather was gray and wet, and I was in no mood to be disappointed.

It took all my energy not to take out my negative emotions on those who were involved with the situation and I ended up bawling over the phone to my husband. Knowing how I tend to be, instead of telling me, "You are overreacting," he validated how I was feeling, but helped me rationalize the situation, and gave me the positives. Miraculously, I started to feel better, assured my minor flub would be the only one.

Then last night hit.

You see, I have mentioned before my hatred for Summer, because of my misconnection with a lot of my friends. I have rationalized over and over to myself, "Summer means busy. Let it be. Don't worry. Eventually, you will be able to talk and see these people again!" It worked for a long time, until earlier in this week I was made aware that maybe, just maybe, I have pushed some people away, without even trying this time.

My relationships have always been rocky, and one of my biggest goals with DBT was to improve upon this, because I was sick of being the type of person that burned bridges by pushing people away.  Fear of abandonment has an interesting way of materializing with me. As soon as someone wouldn't be unresponsive, I immediately would ruminate on what I did wrong, but then get angry and just say something hurtful, so I didn't feel as hurt. This typically resulted in many friends washing their hands of me, and frankly I don't blame them.

For a while now, I have been working on this. Giving people space by not jumping to conclusions when they aren't readily available, and networking with more than a few people in order to not overly-attach to one particular person. Yet, I still think, despite my efforts, I have done something wrong. No matter what I do with some certain people, I am left out in the cold.

So last night, instead of "radically accepting" that these friendships may be over, I just lost it. I don't think I have cried that hard in a long time. Maybe it is because I poured so much trust into these newer relationships, in an effort to be vulnerable, and it has failed me. Or maybe it is because I have tried so hard to keep it together while my therapist was on vacation, that it just hurt even more when reality hit.

None of this post is to say, "Hey, I'm miserable and lonely." In fact, I am not lonely be any means. Really, I'm okay! What this post is about is recognizing that I may not be able to save every relationship in my life, regardless of the effort I put into it, and that is okay. I am at peace with it because I have so many new friends through my church that have welcomed me into their loving arms with absolutely no judgments. This is what I needed, and I am so blessed by God to have fallen into their embrace.

Just "Let it Go"

Would you believe, up until this week, I had only heard the song "Let it Go" only a couple of times? Yea, I know, disappointing right? Well I watched Frozen once, yes once. My son is just now at that age where watching animated movies over and over would be satisfying, so there really wasn't a necessity to watch it more than that one time.

Yes, it was adorable, and yes, the message was great. However, I failed to see the reason why "Let it Go" was such an amazing song.

I have a friend, who swears by the healing power of this song, and I of course rolled my eyes at the thought. As much as I love music, I get kind of turned off by songs that go viral, because they lose their sense of power. This week, "Let it Go," proved me wrong.

I was asked to perform some live music for my church's (Elevation Church) block party for West Michigan's Metro Cruise. It was kind of a last minute request, but there was some joking about me playing "Let it Go." Just to buy into their humor, and also because I knew the kids would love it, I learned the song.

When practicing a song as much as I had to for this, considering I didn't really know it well to begin with, it isn't a surprise that the lyrics started floating around in my head, and I began to relate them to my own life. I almost started crying singing it, because it resonated so strongly with me. Hear me out:

Don't let them in, don't let them see

Be the good girl you always have to be

Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know

Well, now they know!"

Let it go, let it go

Can't hold it back anymore

Let it go, let it go

Turn away and slam the door!

I don't care

What they're going to say

Let the storm rage on

Yea.

This pretty much sums up how I felt for the 18 years I was silent. I was convinced by so many people that it was better to just bottle up my trauma and toss it into the deep of an endless sea, never to be retrieved again. I had been putting on the face of someone I really wasn't for so long, and now I am free. It feels great.

I really don't care what people say by telling my story, because I know that I am helping hundreds, maybe thousands of people in the process. That is the true gift of my affliction.

I may not like it when people tell me to "let it go," because to me it sounds like, "forget about it;" however, I know now that those words sometimes means letting go of that fire inside of you...let it out...be free.

Down With the Sickness

For the past couple of days, I have been suffering from a pretty righteous sinus infection. Now normally, this wouldn't be a problem, because as a vocal musician, I have trained myself to battle through sickness like a champ. My regimen typically consists of a plethora of tea, meds, and lozenges. Not to mention the ever so important sleep. Before I had my son, I could take a sick day and sleep the gross away. Now, I have to keep up with a toddler while simultaneously blowing my nose and trying not to puke from my endless drainage.

First world problems right?

Maybe....yet, we are human, and regardless of the responsibilities of being someone else's caretaker, we are foremost a caretaker to ourselves. Granted, I will put my son above anyone else, and that is natural as a mother. However, if I run myself down to the bone in doing so, what good would that do?

These two days of me trying to push this sickness away got me thinking about my DBT skills, one of them being PLEASE. This skill focuses on reducing emotional vulnerabilities, and making sure one gets enough rest, especially when sick is one of them. How many of you try and push yourself when you are sick, and end up snapping at your loved ones, or having a break down? I'm sure Borderlines aren't the only ones in that boat. The only difference is we have a bit more of an extreme reaction.

If I don't get enough rest for a few days, I become vulnerable, and I end up soaking up every negative emotion I come across. Instead of crying it out, I usually feel as if there is no way out of my misery. Before I started DBT, I would immediately jump into some type of self-harming behavior. Because my therapist noticed my trends, we have been able to pinpoint when I become mentally weaker so now I call for coaching when I notice this happening.

But here is my dilemma....I am pretty miserable right now because I haven't been able to focus on getting better, but how can I when I have to be a mother and a wife? Too often I let the guilt of how others will feel if I take care of myself get in the way of healing. Honestly, this applies to my general status of continuing therapy. I do often feel like a burden to my family as I have to be in therapy twice a week. However, I can't let their human reactions deter my necessity to get better.

Yes, my husband might be frustrated when I go retreat into the bedroom to go get rest instead of spend time with him. Sure, my little man might be sad that I can't play with him today. These are all temporary though, and I'd much rather be a healthy and happy mother who has reduced her vulnerability than one who pushes herself to the point where she leaves her loved ones with nothing but an empty shell.

Awakenings: A Personal Tribute to Robin Williams

In light of Robin Williams' recent passing, I felt compelled to blog about suicide in attempts to raise awareness through this unfortunate event.What the world depicted of Robin was that of a man who brought happiness through the silver screen, but in reality he was constantly suffering.

We sometimes wonder how those who are very successful, and otherwise depicted happy, can so quickly lose the battle to their internal demons. When I heard the news of his suicide, while devastated, I was not shocked because I knew that he had been suffering for so long. I am by no means saying it was a solution to his turmoil, but I DO know exactly how he may have felt in those last moments.

The only thing I could do was feel a deep empathy for him as I knew how exhausting it might be to fight your mind for so long. To give some perspective, although I was recently diagnosed with BPD, I have been suffering for probably a decade and a half. For a majority of those years I dealt with weekly suicide thoughts, a few drawn out plans, and a couple of impulse attempts that went wrong. I have fought with every ounce of my being against my disease...and you know what? I am SUPER EXHAUSTED! I am only 26.

Robin had about an extra 30 or more years (of battling) on me. That is scary to imagine.

Do we as non-celebrities ever stop to wonder how much more draining the will to fight becomes when we are constantly being watched? I know that even if I am at a small get-together, it is a challenge to be the "social butterfly Dana" that most claim to know me by. Imagine having the world watch you, not just a few friends.

Robin spent decades lifting the spirits of others, but unable to emerge completely out of his own darkness. There is so much of an understanding for his pain in me, that it literally brings me to tears just thinking about how much he must have been hurting in those last moments.

We all struggle to understand the thoughts of those who take their lives. The first thing we say is, "How could they be so selfish?" Yes, they leave us with pain and unanswered questions, and that hurts! Yet, maybe we could stop and analyze those around us who are still alive, but are also suffering from mental disease. Maybe we could start to validate their agony, and remind them of their connection to the universe, rather than be angry with their desire to exit life and stamp it as "selfishness."

I do believe in the passing of a great man, there have been many awakenings in local communities to create awareness for mental health. Let's not let the end of his legacy on earth go to waste, but rather learn from his suffering.

Rape vs. Gumdrops: Choosing Reality Over Ignorance

Recently, I have noticed a familiar trend amongst people like those around me growing up, and it is something that I find hard to stay silent about: People just aren't comfortable discussing anything that doesn't result in fuzzy comforting emotions. Granted, who would prefer to talk about rape, abuse, and mental health issues over how their newest Pinterest project is progressing?

Maybe it is my sense of reality or passion for such topics, but seriously, life does not solely consist of gumdrops and smooth baby butts. 

Look, it isn't as if I enter a conversation with someone I have never met beginning with, "Oh hey, I'm Dana and I have BPD because my childhood was tainted and I never learned how to be emotionally stable. You wanna be friends?' That clearly would be undesirable in any exchange; however, if the person I am talking to asks what my tattoo means, what my locket means, or what I blog about, I am not going to deny them of an answer. Ninety percent of the time, I am extremely vague about my experience unless people ask questions. 

Sometimes, I even say, "Well this tattoo has a pretty deep meaning, but I'm willing to tell you, if you want to listen..."

"Oh Sure! I love powerful meanings behind tattoos."

Five minutes later with a hint of repulsion I hear, "Oh umm well, sounds like that part of your life is over, and its in the past. Now you can focus on being happy."  

Uhhh...what?

Good intentions aside, being a survivor doesn't mean I have completely detached myself from my experience. I still get vivid flashbacks and new memories on a weekly basis. From that very definition, it really isn't over. Am I bathing in my past? No. Does it control every decision I make in my life? No. Has it helped shape who I am? Yes. Does it represent my strength? Absolutely. 

Choosing to discuss my experience openly in no way shape or form means I am still a victim. It simply means I have chosen to utilize the darkness I have seen to spread awareness. I have said before that to spread awareness, I must be blunt, and ugly. It frightens me that people can not handle the honest truth about what goes on in this world, because if they are scared, how can they stand up against it?

If one can not bear to watch the news because the crimes against humanity that are so common sickens them, so be it. However, if these same people are commenting about these crimes on what should be done, without true knowledge of the matter, then they are kidding themselves. 

I once was told off by a self-proclaimed victim advocate, because she was uncomfortable with a news channel revealing the report details on a sexual assault case. I was rather confused, as number one, victim advocates know the ins and outs of these dealings, and number two, if she couldn't handle the "vague" details, she would have been an awful victim advocate.

People have every right to separate themselves from the evil that exists in this world. I don't blame them, there is some heavy stuff happening right now. What I won't stand for is these same people pretending to be experts on such matters, especially when they are talking to me. It is invalidating and hurtful to all the other survivors who actually live with this pain every day.

The desire to get involved is one that is optional to everyone, but don't turn your head in disgust from the survivor if you can't stomach the truth.

Not So "Fatal Attraction"

My last post was one of uncertainty as I discussed my latest surge of emptiness, and my attempt at pulling myself away from the murkiness below. Finding pebbles of positivity can be trying when your spouse is also having a bad day, and that actual day I last posted, he most certainly was. The only thing I could manage, was to use my skills for his benefit, and surprisingly, it helped facilitate a rather calm environment.

This particular day was chock-full of frustration for Greg, and his desire to come home and relax by getting some new footage for our new YouTube channel (dedicated to cooperative gaming as a married couple), came to a screeching halt. We had moved our most powerful PC downstairs to record, but as soon as Greg tried to turn it on, he was met with a blank screen and an annoying error sound coming from the motherboard.

Now, when it comes to these things, my husband no doubt gets angry, but usually, I would get so stressed that I would ask endless questions until he would snap at me. Snapping at a Borderline when she is in an already vulnerable state is a big no-no. In most situations this would lead to me bawling my eyes out, saying how much I hate my life, and typically jumping straight to suicide as a solution for the current dilemma.

When our night was ruined by an unfortunate event, I was as cool as a cucumber. In fact, I had to constantly pull ridiculous positives to soften my husband's mood. I also had to use my "Wisemind" so that I could be rational despite my husband's fury.  After hours of dissecting our PC, and exchanging parts amongst other PC's in the house, we found out our $400 graphics card had fried. My husband was distraught, not only about the potential money we would lose, but also because of the time we had lost by dealing with this predicament. I kept offering positives. The exchange went a little something like this.

Greg: Bah! This SUCKS! I can't believe my graphics card took a crap.
Dana: Well at least we had my PC we could pull another card from so we could continue to record our footage.
Greg: Of course I would have a shitty day, then come home to this. OF COURSE! What a waste of my time!
Dana: Hey, well at least we were working together towards a common goal instead of fighting like we sometimes do. Also, wouldn't you have been more upset if this happened during your vacation in a couple days?

Because I stayed in my "Wisemind" I was able to quickly problem solve. I pulled up the invoice from when we purchased the graphics card two years ago, and guess what? We had a lifetime warranty on it. 

Had I been in the zone I usually am in whilst during a crisis, considering Greg was also in crisis mode, we most likely would have dropped money we don't have on a new card, then where would we be? By staying calm, I could rationalize and solve the problem. I thought nothing of my progress until after Greg posted something on Facebook (edited for grammar and punctuation):

I have the best wife in the world. Not only did she stick with me all night to keep calming me down, but also called EVGA and her dad to help us. Without her, I would be super angry and upset with the world. She's a keeper guys. Keep reading her blog posts. This woman is unbelievable in her triumphs and I am so proud of her. Love you Dana!

Greg was in disbelief at my ability to stay calm, almost to the point of denial. In fact, he kept saying, "Something bad is gonna happen! I KNOW IT!" He was determined that I was going to go full "Fatal Attraction" crazy on him. I did have to remind him that there were going to be moments that were harder for me than this particular scenario, but the fact I was able to actually be rational for once in a major crises, is a huge accomplishment.

With today being our anniversary, I am reminded of how blessed I am to have a husband who has held my hand through my worst break downs. Every nightmare, flashback, tantrum, suicidal moment, disassociation...he was there to ground me to reality. I am just glad that for once in our four years of marriage, I was the one to provide the gift of serenity. 

I love you Gregory, and I thank you for being my partner in life. I think after these past couple of weeks, I can confidently say, "Don't worry, I am not going anywhere." 

Everything's Great...Everything Sucks

My posts tend to end on a note of empowerment, which is typically due to my ability to overcome my crises, or at least tolerate them, before writing. However, as a BPD sufferer, I think it is crucial to give insight on the moments that drag me towards the bottom of the lake. These moments are riddled with that sense of "emptiness" that is all too familiar with Borderlines. Last night, I was overcome by that wave of darkness, that takes every ounce of energy to emerge scarless.

When a Borderline experiences positive and exciting things, it is almost like a drug or sugar high. We are categorically manic in these situations. If anyone has been around me when I am in these phases, I am pretty wild. I am confident, intoxicating, and have a sense of willingness that only Borderlines can relate to. These are the days I power through projects and whistle through chores that would normally induce endless grumbles.

Then all of a sudden, the tide comes in, and pulls us down with no chance to take a breath.

Have you ever seen a toddler post-birthday-party? When he/she consumes 40 lbs of refined sugar, becomes a blissful whirlwind of awesomeness, only to crash hard a few hours later?

Basically, I'm a 26-year-old child.

It makes sense realistically, because people who suffer from BPD, at least most of them, didn't learn the basic regulation skills that one learns through experiencing a normal childhood. Interestingly enough, we are also wise beyond our years. A good chunk of those who struggle alongside me, experienced the same background where we were forced to age so quickly. Wisdom and empathy is developed early on, while everything else is left on the back burner.

Because of this, there is no middle ground. There is no grey; only black and white. There is really no "okay;" everything's great, or everything sucks. The natural ability to rationalize, to see the glass half full,  in a moment of feeling "empty," is not present without exercising numerous skills. 

So last night, I felt this drag, and tried so hard to explain to my husband what I was feeling. The only thing I could do was cry because I wished incredibly hard to not feel as if my life was going nowhere, even when I knew so many opportunities lie ahead. I struggle with the short term, because no matter how great the horizon looks, if I can't see what is around the corner, I fall apart. 

The key is to really focus on the small things in these times of distress. My therapist refers to them as pebbles of positivity. Even if the effects of large and exciting moments aren't present for long, there are pebbles within them that prove their existence. I am currently working on putting this skill to practice, because it is new to me. I am here to tell you, I am struggling.

Even while I am observing today's pebbles, I am on the verge of breaking down for no good reason at all. 

I Have the Right to be Human

So, does anyone remember how I was kind of pissed at my therapist about a week ago? Well, if you didn't catch my little rant, and want to read it, it is rather entertaining. I am not here to tell you I was out of line by spitting fire, but rather enlighten you that it is okay that I was angry. In fact, I called my therapist in between sessions, just to remind her of that fact.

Sure, that may seem harsh, but honestly, it was the best thing I could possibly do and this is why:
For the first time, I was not afraid to stand up for myself, even if it meant possibly hurting the other person's feelings.

I have said in previous posts that I tend to burden myself with shame over situations that aren't even remotely close to my fault, and I end up apologizing regardless. My reasoning behind this stems from my fear of abandonment. I rationalize that if I hurt someone's feelings by being honest in how they hurt me, they are going to run for the hills, never to socialize with me again. So I end up letting people walk over me, or apologize first whenever there is tension.

The problem is that I would always harbor this deep-seeded anger, which ultimately would lead to me pushing people away anyway. This type of behavior is something I can not afford with my therapist.

For days after my session, I had to keep practicing "Radical Acceptance," just to get through. I still had this hint of guilt festering, and even contemplated calling my therapist to apologize. A friend of mine encouraged me to call for coaching because his theory was, "If you can't call for coaching because you are upset, then you need to call for coaching and tell her you're pissed." So I did call her and said, "I am still angry, and I have been since our session." Her response:

"That's okay."

She explained how glad she was that I called to check in on our relationship, even if I was upset. She said it was important that I could be honest about my emotions. Surprisingly she said if I had apologized, she would have been sad, because that is not what she wanted.  After I hung up, I still felt uneasy, but the next morning I awoke with a sense of clarity. My first thought of the day was, "Why do I care what the hell she thinks? What is she going to do? Anger is a human emotion, and I have the right to be human!"

Click. Light turns on, Dana is happy.

When I saw my therapist next, I was no longer angry. In fact, once I was able to accept that "anger" the feedback she had given me that originally sent me in a whirl of chaos, began to make sense. I practiced being more mindful like she had requested, and I realized she ultimately was right, even if she worded it in a way that made me feel like a pile of crud.

What was really cool, was to hear her say she was proud of me. It was refreshing to feel a sense of accomplishment sitting across from her that day. I hope I can continue this trend, because it is remarkably superior to living in misery.