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I've cut back on individual therapy mostly because of scheduling conflicts, but also because of a general desire to cut back. I don't *need* things as much, I don't think, and I've gotten really good about calling her when I NEED to, as opposed to just going in weekly like a zombie (which is what I was starting to feel like).
I've been doing DBT exercises by myself, and talking to no one about them but my therapist -- which is just... downright weird for me. but it's hard. I feel like the exercises are making me all too aware of just how nuts some of my thoughts have been over the last oh, 35 years. I've even recommended DBT to a couple of friends... as well, it does seem to really help me. And for the longest time, I didn't think that anything was ever going to help. And even a year ago, when I started looking into DBT pretty seriously I thought how was this ever going to become automatic? Some things... especially the distract skills... really are starting to become that. I even have a few things I say to myself at night, when I'm struggling with falling asleep alone, or just feeling lonely in general, that are pretty much automatic, and *work* when I'm feeling icky.
Who knew.
As part of this plan, I'm going to be doing the DBT exercises on my own, starting with Interpersonal Effectiveness. I told her I'd keep the exercises in a journal, to try to get past my issues with keeping a paper journal... thinking, that might be a start. But then I went out and got a spiral notebook to use as a journal. I actually wrote a 3 page entry in it yesterday, about my issues with paper journaling, that I probably will post here at some point.
My mother has been oddly supportive of some decisions lately - one, to move this summer, and 2, regarding my son's college. She's been surprisingly normal lately, even asking questions about my b/f... which is rare for her, no matter who I am seeing.
I feel like I'm on the right path.
Today, for the first time, my therapist wanted to add PTSD to my seemingly ever-growing list of diagnoses. I reactly badly to it - hated the idea of it.. never, ever have I thought that I had PTSD.
Last week, I restarted DBT. It's horribly painful - 2 hours is a long time to sit there, and my therapist is thinking that it might be because I do have the latent ADD traits (and have been off of ADD meds for like 6 months). I started to bring up all of the other reasons that I was uncomfortable/annoyed with DBT last week... and suddenly, it hit me, while I was in her office.
My anger/crankiness towards some things manifests itself in weird ways. It's as if I don't know how to really react to something. So I get pissed/annoyed easily. Now, it's not as bad as it was, say even 6 months or a year ago, but it is still there. She's basically saying that my reaction to DBT last week was a result of being seriously triggered (true enough) by 3 people in the group. Ugh.
I don't want another diagnosis. I don't want to feel like there's other issues to deal with, more issues to deal with.
She suggested EMDR for the first time... and said she wasn't going to push, she wanted me to go home, research it, etc... which is something that generally is better for me (letting me figure out it's not such a bad idea), but... blah.
I feel like crud.
So, I was thinking of restarting DBT this morning – I’m actually in town, and while it’s mid-module, the facilitator had said it was OK. I wasn’t thrilled about the idea in general, but I had been the one to *ask* about restarting dbt, so… you’d think it wouldn’t have been such a bad thing to think about. I had fully planned to go this morning, then… last night happened.
I have a long history of having a bad reaction to spilling things. Spilling things meant that I got beaten as a kid, and that reaction is still there. It’s been years since I’ve had a *bad* reaction to it (it can really freak other people around out), but last night at about 1230 or so I accidentally sent a 32oz diet pepsi flying and wham! Hit that old bad place.
I screamed… and not like a normal “oh shit” kind of scream. It was the 30 second long shrieking that freaked out my roommate, even though he knows and has seen that reaction all too many times before. After that ended, I was able to grab a towel (highly unusual for me to a) be able to clean it up right after, and b) to be able to do so that quickly), and even tell my b/f, who I was talking to online, what had happened. I was feeling rather proud of myself (and kind of using that as a motivator to go back to dbt this morning – the whole look! It works! mentality).
But then I got spacey… after I’d crawled back into bed I started thinking about the mess it had made, the fact that I was going to have to likely steam clean my carpet to get the stains up, and that I couldn’t get out of bed without stepping in the wet spots … my brain just kept spinning.
I started to try to fall asleep around 2… and didn’t have much issue falling asleep. I had terrible, terrible dreams though. All about being little, about getting beaten… and the only thing that I seem to I generally don’t have issues with nightmares, but I’ve been having quite a few lately, and this one was *really* bad.
This is also the second time in a week where I’ve had trouble waking up in the morning. And not because my alarm didn’t go off, or I didn’t hear it… it was kinda like I couldn’t wake up from the dream… and I’ve never done that before. It’s terrifying, I don’t know what’s going on, I feel like I’m in a heavily drugged state, I guess is the best way to describe it – and both times its happened, I had *no* sleep meds in my system.
My therapist has had me talking about old stuff the last couple of sessions – and I’ve not managed to talk about things yet that *she* did, only the things that my older brother did/caused. Part of that is because I’m just now to the point where I’m ‘healthy’ enough to start working on the old crap. The other part of it is because I’m actually around enough to do face-to-face sessions on a regular basis again.
So, you’d think eh, with all of this going on – prolly a good time to get up and go to therapy, right? That’s what I kept trying to tell myself. But it was DBT… it was group. There’s no way I could go without talking about this stuff, which would, in all reality, trigger half the room – so not possible. (I still know the people in the group). I *wanted* to get up and go, but it was like I was stuck… I was in that state where I couldn’t get moving, didn’t feel really conscious, and my whole body just felt… stuck. And this is only the second time I remember doing this… ever. I don’t know what it is, what it’s called, why I had such a hard time… I don’t get it. I don’t understand this, I’ve never done it before, I get absolutely terrified when I do it, I’m always alone when it happens, and I have absolutely no knowledge of how to get unstuck. Just when I think I’m feeling… healthy… that I’m making progress, that my brain might some day function as a ‘normal’ person’s, this kinda shit happens, and I feel like I’ve been set back to my early 20s, when my brain and temper were way out of control. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go, that I didn’t think it might be a good idea ultimately (even if I did feel like I’d have to remain quiet about my own issues), it was that I physically felt stuck in bed… I think that’s what I don’t get the most.
The whole thing with the new nightmares, this whole freaky not being able to wake thing? Has me really wanting to leave past shit in the past.
And, I don't know what it's going to do to my plans for today, honestly. I hate canceling plans. Hate. Hate. Hate. I know it's going to make my mood way worse if I do. But I also have no idea how to unstick my brain, either. I woke up, and saw the lack of stains on the carpet and that did feel better, somehow... but, ugh. Rough damned morning.I had a face-to-face therapy session last week, my first in months. And I have another one next weekend. It was a REALLY rough session, after not having addressed many issues over the phone. It's easier to duck questions on the phone - a LOT easier. This week's session was on the phone -- this is absolutely the longest I've stuck with individual therapy, and approaching how long I lasted in couple's therapy - and she said that now that I'm doing better, consistently, and healthier, it is probably time to work on past issues.
Ugh, this is gonna suck. I don't want to work on the old issues. I'd happily pretend they didn't exist, or better yet - swallow a pill that might make me forget them (too bad there isn't such a pill). While I know this is a good, and probably necessary, thing - I dread it. I have significant fears that rehashing the old stuff is going to put me right back into a suicidal state. Or even just a seriously depressed one.
Brains are too complicated. They need to come with a better user manual.
I have only missed a few doses of meds since I was in the hospital. I've been working hard to keep a consistent schedule, and to rise early on the weekends, etc.
But now, I'm traveling for work. Exercise is spotty again, sleep is irregular, work hours are irregular, and I feel myself... slipping. Last night I slept... it took 2 ambien to finally knock me out, but I did sleep, and slept well without bad dreams. I feel more like myself today, and like I'm more 'together' than I have been for the last week or so, but I'm exhausted.
I feel like it's a part-time job again to stay... 'together'... to stay sane... to not slip.
I also told a friend today about the bpd issue. I called my good friend that I joke is 'dial-a-shrink'. I am not sure how I felt about telling said friend about the bpd issue though, because she automatically mixed up BPD and DID... and it is so hard for ME to understand what my brain does, it's even harder to explain to someone else.
My brain hurts.
A friend posted this in her blog. I'm not sure I agree with everything it says, but I do agree with most. Especially the "stop."
http://www.feministe.us/blog/archives/20
I had phone therapy last night, and it went really well. She only does 30 minute phone sessions, and that's OK by me... 30 minutes is a long time when you're on the phone. (I've discovered I'm getting less and less tolerant for the phone as I get older, I think the b/f is wearing off on me).
I have long ranty notes that I took to keep myself busy/from getting angry in DBT last week, at some point I'll probably post them... because they're a whole heck of a lot of black vs. white thinking -- and definitely how my brain automatically goes there. I've been feeling like there's more... hope... that my brain will eventually *get* it... but the then I have moments where I feel like I'm crazy and will need some anti-psychotic to ever look at the world like everyone else. Why is it that 'normal' thinking as I'm trying to come to grips with what *I* think should be normal, seems like it is just... numb... devoid of emotion?
Exploring DBT groups in the area didn't prove to be successful - therapist says that since we're coming to the end of a module anyway, I can pick back up in 3 months at the start of the next module. We talked some about Linehan's book, and if it would be beneficial for me to work on skills on my own. I figure what the heck, I have the time right now... at least I think I do. Will give it a shot. I feel like I've read more about BPD and know more about it than half the therapists I've seen in the past... and I know that isn't the case, it just seems so frustrating that for something that is supposed to be so common, there are so few resources for -- books, therapists, support networks, dbt groups --- are all in short supply. Now that I think about it though, so are all mental health services -- and I know this because I have fought so hard to get them for my son... why is it that I don't think of these things when they're related to my own brain and well-being?
Enough for now.
I have had a migraine since Monday, that I am now finally (duh!) associating with taking ambien CR again after a month long break. Duh, why didn't I notice this two days sooner?!
My moods have been consistent - grouchy, but trying not to be outwardly grumpy, which I'm rarely successful at. I'm hoping that without the CR tonight, I'll be back to my perky self. (ok, that's a stretch). But on Sunday and Monday, I was uber-productive and got a ton of stuff done around the house - I want to get back to that speed as it felt good.
I've been focusing on taking care of myself - eating tons better, cooking and eating 3 meals a day. Taking meds. Recognizing when I'm not capable of doing certain things. Part of me is almost missing the fact that I don't have therapy this week - well, at least the individual therapy. I'm not a fan of this DBT thing just yet - I'm hoping that it gets better/easier/easier to sit there for 2 straight hours. Looking actively for jobs, and doing some online gigs to bring in some extra money. Taking care of my ex that is staying with me (I think I will refer to him here on out as Grumpy).
He lived with me for 6+ years before, never recognizing or knowing anything about BPD. He is trying to read and comprehend some now, since I seem to have my head buried in books these days... but still doesn't *get* it. He says stupid things - like that he wouldn't touch something in the kitchen for fear of 'setting off the borderline' and 'wow, I noticed that personality shift as soon as you got on the phone with your mom.' That shit does NOT HELP.
I finished Sometimes I Act Crazy today, and I'm glad that I stuck with it, because I really wound up enjoying it. I think the first chapter's Princess Diana blurbs really turned me off and took about 50 pages for me to get over. Eventually, I'd like to post my notes from that and I Hate You Don't Leave Me, but I don't have that much motivation right now.
Therapy today was rougher than I had expected it would be. I felt kind of blindsided by loads of uncomfortable questions, getting back into the diary card thing, talking about going to group therapy tomorrow… all in all, it was rough.
My ex has been asking me tons of questions the last few days… about what I remember, what I did, what people’s reactions have been. And that’s been equally painful. Some of these things, I don’t want to say out loud, some of them I don’t want to think about, because they aren’t that far removed from my active thoughts as it is.
Then we talked about work, and how my PCP has said maybe I should be off work for a while. Therapist thinks that I should go back to work… at least part time… to stay busy (and I agree with her). We talked about that, and setting boundaries in a new work situation (which I am admittedly not that good at).
I have reached a point where I don’t *dread* therapy, even if it’s not my favorite activity. I still have huge issues thinking about group situations tomorrow… but I’ll get past that, I guess. I like my therapist, and am getting to the point where I trust her (she remembers things, doesn’t seem to be totally relying on notes, is ON TIME – which is a huge thing for me in situations where if you’re a few minutes late you are considered a no-show.) So… this is a good thing, right?
Today, I walked out feeling confused and conflicted about everything. We talked about how I am starting to finally (quietly) accept that the mess I’m in right now with lack of job, health issues, etc. is a result of my own actions and suicide attempt. I’m trying to learn to take responsibility for my emotions and not let them run fucking batshit wild like they have as long as I can remember… sounds good, right? And I start talking about the damage I feel like I’ve done to my body, etc.
So… she starts talking about how I need to stop judging myself. I need to stop *blaming* myself. I need to understand that I am not responsible for all that happened. … and that, felt like bullshit to me. I feel like I am. And we kinda left today’s session on that note, and I walked out feeling like huh… what? Isn’t this the opposite of what I’ve been trying to do?
I dunno. My brain hurts.
So, some updates. I feel like it's been forever since I've written anything meaningful here. I think I've learned a valuable lesson the last few weeks -- talking about things *after* being in the hospital/that stuff -- with other people? Not a good idea. I feel like every 'bad day' seems to set off alarms and put others on edge. I feel like in some ways, I've lost a *huge* portion of my support folks because I can't deal with the ... fallout. And yes, I am realizing slowly and painfully that this is all the result of my own actions, but doesn't make it any easier.
As far as my health goes - I feel like I am always tired and that my depression is worsening (but suicidal thoughts are not, if that makes any sense). Losing the job - while a GOOD thing for me - is weighing heavily on me. But as far as the 'side effects' or things I noticed after being in the hospital, here are some updates.
- my fine motor skills seem to be fine now
- my short term memory still sucks. royally.
- my sense of smell is alarmingly *better* - and sensitive. I was always a sympathy puker but now... god, the smell of a lot of things makes me nauseous
- my appetite still isn't what it used to be (and this is a good thing, I'm sure)
- handwriting is back to normal
- spelling issues seem to have gone away
- dizziness issues are gone
- my sore throat lasted about 2 full weeks, but is gone now. Voice issues probably lasted about that long, but were slight enough most people wouldn't notice after that first week
- vision is fine
- I don't wake up from naps/sleep talking any more, but I do have better memories of really weird dreams
- I have very, very low energy most days (which is what makes me think that the depression is worsening)
Tomorrow, I have therapy. I have therapy twice this week - individual tomorrow, and group DBT on Friday for the first time. I have anxiety about both. In a lot of ways, I feel like nothing has changed since I went to therapy last, except that I survived the visit with the family. My brother put it best when he said that moving home would *make* me suicidal. I have to agree.
Today would be the 19th anniversary with my ex, who I thought I would spend the rest of my life with. And today, he left with our 2 boys on a 3 week vacation. It means they will be away from home for both of their birthdays for the first time - which I know is a normal part of growing up, but it still sucks, and feels like bad timing right now. I'll have to find my own way to celebrate.
And it's 1am, and I'm still awake despite drugs. Blah.
But you know what? Things that normally send me spiraling ... have not done so this week. With a lot less.... effort....
