“The in-between place you’re in. It’s real.”

this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve reposted something that originated from Danielle Laporte.

the following is from “The in-between place you’re in. It’s real.” and it’s very apt for my current place in life.

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the all-consuming Darkness

I’ve been on antipsychotics for a while now. lithium, to be precise. lots of it. and it works! my anxiety is lower, my compulsions quieter, my obsessions weaker, and my hypomanias basically non-existent. so yeah, we got the Manic portion of things mostly under control.

but we haven’t figured out my Depression. it’s still all-consuming, a shroud that covers everything, even the things I once loved or enjoyed.

things are not fun anymore, for example. and I don’t even want to try to have fun anymore; it’s exhausting.

I had a lot of free time this past Saturday. so what did I do?– sleep. for ~15hrs. sure, I know part of it was actually needing the sleep for physical reasons. but I know the difference between that and sleep as escapism. and most of that was the latter.

and though it may be psychosomatic and even self-fulfilling, I firmly believe that I will never get better until I GTFO of this fucking tundra.

“go all Henry David Thoreau up in here”

I think I need a vaccay from people. like, from all humans. even Brian. go all Henry David Thoreau up in here or something.

I used to camp all the time. year round, and as much as possible. I would volunteer with organizations too. a lot of my time used to go to volunteerism.

I mean, I have a pessimistic, natural inclination to assume the worst about a given individual. but I used to at least allow them enough room to hang themselves. these days, I can hardly wait to pull a handle of judgment to drop people to a doom they possibly didn’t rightly deserve.

and those aforementioned communes with nature or surrounding myself with heartfelt people — they would reset the innate hatred I have within. they would fill me with beauty, awe, and hope. and then I had the energy to go tackle the harsh reality that is life.

but with no vacations to remind myself what matters, with no groups or friends also struggling to focus on the light, I feel … I just feel hopeless, adrift. like I’m just barely staying afloat in life instead enjoying the waves at a beach.

I will make it a point to find a volunteer group again. I will make it a point to go camping again soon (once it fucking warms a little, because I am a pussy in the cold). and I will make it a point to write again … even if there is no one remaining to read anything.

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.

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!

WELL HELLO, CRAZY NOISE

WELL HELLO, CRAZY NOISE!!
> THANKS FOR CHECKING IN.

SO YOU THINK WE SHOULD SLICE OUR ARMS AND BLEED, JUST TO PROVE WE ARE ALIVE?
> okay.

SO WE SHOULD SLIT OUR NECK ACROSS ITSELF TO SHOW OUR OWN STRENGTH AND DETERMINATION?
> sounds great.

OR MAYBE I CAN JUST JUMP INTO TRAFFIC, DRIVE INTO THE ONCOMING, OR SHOOT OURSELVES OFF THE CLIFF.
>  perfect plan.

_____________________________________________

did you disagree?  because I didn’t?

I suspect tomorrow will be fine.

but I’m seriously running out of “bad days” that don’t get logged as “last days”.

____________________________________________

SEE ALSO:

the Final Day is ideal,

desired,

perfect,

heavenly,

HOPE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

please allow it to come soon … or even better ASAP…..

blub blub…

I have 64 words for NaNo so far.  and that’s all just from editing and adding words to older work.  none of it is totally fresh content.  because I have no fresh content in my brain.  I can’t think.  I’m too tired all the time.  I either have something else scheduled at the time, or I don’t have something else scheduled and therein opt to just sleep.

I almost made it to kickboxing this morning.  I got dressed and packed up.  I was fighting off a breakdown the whole time.  then, when it was time to put on shoes and go out the door, I just cracked.  I started bawling.  by the time I gathered myself enough to leave, it was too late and would cause me to be truant.  so I cried all over again.  then Brian eventually coerced me into going to the apartment’s gym and just walking on the treadmill at a stroll for 15 minutes.  and then I tucked my tail between my legs as I shuffled back to the apartment, defeated.  he congratulated and said he was proud of me.  he reiterated that “something is better than nothing”.  but all I could think of is how “a lot is more than something”.

I was legit tardy to work yesterday.  I couldn’t wake up; I couldn’t function.  I was so fatigued, it was beyond words.  and it’s not like I stayed up late on Sunday or anything.  maybe it was the time change Sunday morning.  maybe it’s just my body shutting down.  but it caused me to be late to a point of disciplinary action.  I mean, it’s just earning points towards a larger avoidable balance (think golf).  but hey, any points is more than no points.  and I got some points for being truant yesterday.  ugh.

I’m really falling apart.  I don’t know how to keep above water, much less start actually swimming again.