I just sat down at Panera for lunch and blogging time. I had therapy at noon and it was the most intense session yet. I cried and I’ve never cried in therapy with her. She basically said that I’ve hit a roadblock right now. I am to see a psychiatrist next Friday and see about medicating my depression and anxiety away. I cannot continue working with her until I’m stable and my depression is making it impossible.
I feel so numb right now. I took half a lortab before session and I plan on taking another half in about an hour. I want to be numb all day and night. I want to be numb until Monday’s session.
We discussed more about my dependency on the idea of committing myself inpatient. The fact that it’s a last resort and a safety blanket for me, not a remedy. We also spoke about how dependent I already am on her and how even if she could see me more, she wouldn’t because it would only further my dependency. I admittedly teared up and felt an ache in my heart when I heard this. I know in my mind, this is logical and right. My heart, on the other hand, is a totally different story. I yearn for our encounters and I feed off of them. I’m a junkie.
I’m thrilled and excited to finally be getting the help I need but I’m terrified. I feel like Mr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, constantly fighting. One part of me wants to get better and be happy. The other part wants to stay the same or even possibly get worse. I yearn for that attention and affection I never got as a child. I need it to breathe.
So begins the battle of the chemicals of my brain and medication. I’ll be in touch later about the results.
I’m having a huge issue with expressing my emotions. I know this sounds like the opposite of what you would expect from a BPD individual, but, it’s truth. I’m so used to suppressing my emotions, I can no longer express them when I am in an environment that supports it. I never had a problem crying in therapy before. I know it’s not because I feel uncomfortable with my therapist. In fact, one of the reasons may be because I am too comfortable with her. I am dependent on her and therefore am scared to lose her. Even though she has said several times now that she’s not going anywhere, I find it very hard to trust her. She hasn’t demonstrated a reason for me to doubt her; it’s just so ingrained in my personality and way of thinking now, I do it with everyone. I pretty much feel like everyone can and will leave me, at any moment. I can’t say exactly where this fear of abandonment comes from. I wasn’t left by either of my parents, that I can remember. Sure, my mom wasn’t around too often because she was working and my dad was almost a ghost. No one actually up and left me though. Maybe I’ve suppressed that memory as well? Maybe there’s something there I’ve buried deep, so I don’t have to feel the pain anymore. The problem is, I still do feel this pain.
I’ve been given the task to express my anger at least 10 minutes a day, every day. Punch a pillow, scream cuss words at inanimate objects, break plates (cheap ones), etc. Anything to get this ball of anger and frustration in my stomach, out! It’s literally eating a hole in my stomach. I’ve not been told that this is an ulcer but I swear it’s only a matter of time. My therapist is trying so hard to get me to be happy with myself and to be self-sustaining. I really do want it to happen. I am trying really hard. I am very scared it won’t happen though. Then what?
I can’t cry, I can’t rage; all I can do is become sicker and sicker.
Whenever I’m alone in public, I get really anxious and paranoid that people are watching me. Especially if I am eating. I feel like they’re judging me and thinking I eat like a big fat pig.
in public too.
I was at physical therapy and I was in a lot more pain than usual. I was just laying there, my ankle throbbing, unable to do anything about it. I started tearing up thinking about how helpless I was to do anything about the pain and how frustrating it was that I had backtracked so much. Luckily I kept my composure until I got in the car, where I totally lost it on the way home. If my mom had been around, I so would have pulled a 3 year old tantrum thing. I just want this pain to go away. I’m so annoyed with this “speed bump” and the fact that it ‘s ruining me emotionally as well as physically. Anyone who’s been hurt physically can identify, I’m sure.
I’m stressed on top of this ankle bullshit. I’m tired of not sleeping through the night and I’m tired of struggling for money. I’m just….. tired.
I am so happy, giddy, excited, terrified, etc. about my new relationship with my boyfriend (man that still sounds weird to say). I feel so happy around him and count down the hours, minutes, etc. until I get to see him again. It’s an amazing feeling and makes me wonder how I’ve gone this long without it. I honestly don’t know how I would be surviving right now without him. I probably wouldn’t, honestly.
The issues I have now are not only emotional but physical and it’s getting more difficult to deal with. My ankle is driving me nuts; I’m super frustrated because I thought I was getting better and now I’m not. I need this lawsuit to be over now and I need to not be in pain anymore. I’m supposed to be getting a job by the end of this month or I’m out on my ass. I cannot be on my feet for more than 30 minutes at a time but I’m supposed to work?! What the hell?!
I’m also stressed about money, all the fucking time. I’ve been donating plasma twice a week just so I can get enough money for gas to get back and forth between appointments and seeing my boyfriend. I have to go tomorrow morning in order to get gas money for Monday. I hate needles by the way.
Life is so topsy turvy right now and I don’t like this feeling. I feel like I’m constantly stressed and thinking of ways to relax but I can’t. My anxiety is getting so bad that my stomach is hurting again. I can’t sleep; ever. I need someone to rescue me but I know it’ll never happen. I’m not even that excited about my birthday on March 20th. The worst thing about my anxiety is that my skin picking impulse has come back. I have avoided it for so long now but the other night I spent 2 hours on my legs alone. For those of you that have this problem, you know what a big deal this is.
I guess life could be worse but it could be better too.