Muted

I used to feel like I had a lot to say.  I used to think my words were valuable and beneficial to others.  that I was a grand writer with wonderful skill sets.  that my writings would change the life of at least one person (ideally in a positive way).

alas.  I don’t think those things anymore.  I’m not special anymore.  I’ve let myself become normal and boring.  I have a home with a boyfriend, a droning office job, a car that runs, etc.  sure, these are great things for me to have.  but they make for a boring a typical life.

what happened to my life of living in a barn?  or when I was a security guard?  or when I wasn’t medicated?  what about when I used to go on adventure runs all the time?  when I had two jobs and was in school for 21 hours in a single semester?  or when I was changing my hair colour to everything under the sun?  or when I worse safety pens all over my body?

what happened to that creative, exciting lass?  where did she go?  where did the Prince to all the ladies go?  where did the Greatest run away to?  the Shinigami?   the Dark Poet?  where is that crazy, hyperactive, over-achieving, all-power tomboy?

I miss the persons that used to live inside my head.  there were several of them.  and they would take charge and be Me for a while.  but now it’s just one voice I hear — my own depressing lull.

nothing matters to me anymore.  I don’t care about anything.  I don’t feel for much of anything.  my life is so Muted.  I’m Dead inside.

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BPD, DBT, and bears — OH MY!

so a doctor finally sees it.  I’ve only been saying it for how many years now?  but finally, a specialist recognizes it – I have Borderline Personality Disorder.

it’s a breath of relief to be able to say that with more certainty, with a clinician’s loose opinion to back me up.

it doesn’t change who I am or how I function.  but it does mean that we may attack the Noise in my head in a different manner.

my psychiatrist wants me to start DBT – Dialectical Behavior Therapy.  basically training to rewire how your brain thinks, focusing strongly on things like mindfulness, interpersonal effectiveness, distress tolerance, and (what I really need help with) emotion regulation.

more details on this later, including what exactly Borderline is.

stay tuned!

work nigh resulted in self-injury

I was lying on my side, repeating a phrase with which was I was far too familiar. at the “ch” sound in the collection of words, I felt the top of my tongue bounce of the roof of my mouth in a familiar pattern. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

I couldn’t breathe out of my nose, and I could barely transmit breathes past the sounds I was chanting. my eyes burned, and I could feel the air against the entire surface of my eyeballs. tears from the topside eye flowed into the lower. snot was dribbling out of my nostrils, passing just above my upper lip and down onto the couch.

but I didn’t cut. I didn’t pull out any hair. I only hit my head a few time. I didn’t scratch or burn or bite, or anything else that I wanted so terribly to do. I didn’t even drink. I Disappeared for a little bit to calm down, also known as purposefully disassociating. then I slowly rose and took a klonopin. I had no reason to be alive, and even less reason to be awake. I actually had a say-so in the latter, so I worked towards a goal — Disappear until tomorrow.

as I swallowed the pill, a shot of memories ran past my mind as I recalled how what was previously such a wonderful day pushed me into this dark, hateful place….

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medication, relationships, and disassociations

oops.  so I’ve managed to not take my morning medications almost every day this week (my most important meds are my morning ones, of course).  also, I’ve forgotten my evening meds numerous times in the last two weeks.  however, I’ve been fairly good about my mid-day meds — naturally, because those are the least important of the three.  ~sighs~

I’ve been totally exhausted lately.  like, before my screwing up the taking of my meds.  that’s actually what led to my forgetting to take them.  over the weekend, I just got really, really tired.  then Monday morning, I sleep in until I absolutely have to wake up for work, and I forget to dope myself up while I rush getting ready.  and it just happens like that every morning for the rest of the week.  today included.

Brian called me while I was on my way to work because he noticed I forgot my meds.  I’d be late if I had turned around though.  and I just also didn’t give a fuck about going back to take them.  “it’s not like they’re doing much good anyway”, half-sleepy me told myself as I steered with one knee, guzzled an energy drink with one hand, and shoved eggs into my mouth with the other hand.  (the second knee was attached to the foot reserved for the gas and brake pedals.  I have to get creative whenever I need each a hand and a foot/knee/leg for the shifting and powering the clutch.)  so I just thanked him, and kept going away from home.

I’ve been frustrated with him for a day or so now.  he did tiny thing A that is a big thing to me, and I noticed I had an emotional response about it.  I did my best not to have an emotional reaction, and I only kinda succeeded.  but then I beat myself up for having emotions at all.  I typically get very angry at myself when and because I’m angry at him.  and of course, during all this, I don’t tell him shit, because I don’t want him to start feeling bad about having peeved me off.  but he inquired this morning, and I was just like, “let’s talk about this when I’m not running late for work, okay?”

second thing I really wanted to discuss here (venting about Brian kinda snuck in here, lol) is my disassociation qualities returning.  I’m getting “that feeling” again wherein I’m not Me.  I’m multiple peoples living in a single body, so take turns sharing the physical cage.  I “see” myself doing and saying things.  I’m over-analyzing my actions in a very particular way — not so much “objective” as it is disjointed and disconnected.

maybe it’s the lack of medication in my system.  maybe it’s the two energy drinks a day I take just to stay awake.  maybe it’s whatever started making me so tired over the weekend.

maybe it’s finally time for a Cycle change, and I’m going to go into a mania soon.  that would be a nice change of pace.  I haven’t had a proper (hypo-)mania in a while.  though I doubt it, given all the additional sleep I’ve been needing.

one thing I’m going to discuss at therapy is how I’m so Tired.  like, when she or my psychiatrist ask me about how this is going or what I feel about that, I just wanna look at them and say, “I don’t know. I’m too Tired to think about an analyze it.”  an me being too tired to analyze something — not a good sign.

I suppose that’s all for now.  I’m just really off kilter.  and because I don’t know the cause, I can’t even pretend to come up with a solution.