Archive for June, 2015

BPD and the Black Hole of Despair

Posted June 29, 2015 By kmarrs

I am going out of my mind with this feeling that I’m just drifting off into space, oblivion, or maybe just coasting along.  I don’t know.  I’m just kind of existing.  I don’t think I’m overly sad, though I am depressed.  That’s a fun one.  I mean, unless you’ve ever suffered clinic depression, it makes no sense.  But it’s a true fact:  You can be sad, but not be depressed, and you can be depressed and not be sad.  Depression isn’t a gauge of how sad you are, even if you are in fact both depressed and sad.

Depression is really this state of being where you’re, I don’t know, feeling less than.  Less than, anything and/or everything.  I currently feel less than a person.

It doesn’t help that my day-to-day doesn’t change from one day to the next.  All my days run together and aside from the occasional appointment, I don’t even have need to know what day of the week it is.  And it’s driving me out of my mind, really.  I am a human being who hates pressure, but still thrives under structure.  There is no structure to anything right now.  None.

My biggest thing I need to get back to is school and I know that.  I needed winter off, I was drowning in life.  The stress was beyond anything I’ve ever experienced just 4 short months ago.

I needed to take the summer off, because if my sister hadn’t received her new liver a few weeks back, we would have buried her by now.  I was hoping for the best, but ready for the worst.  I also would have started the term with my sister on her death-bed no matter what.  It ended well, but it ended well at the last possible minute.

So I go back this fall and I’m so ready for fall to be now.  I’m actually excited about it.  I get to learn again!  I’m going to start where I left off and delve into economics, only this time I’m going to take it in a classroom.  It involves math and therefore follows the math rule: Never try to teach yourself math.  i don’t care how helpful the text-book might be.  Math is just one of those classes that needs the benefit of an instructor walking you through step by step.  Economics is no exception.

As an added bonus, taking it in a classroom will mean I’m out of the house once a week!  Go team! I’m going to burn this place to the ground if I don’t start getting out more!  Only not really,because I’m a pyrophobe and I have like 500 books that I don’t intend to lose.

So I’m anxiously awaiting the day I can register (July 6th).   I’m anxiously awaiting the first day of term (August 17th).

In the meantime, I’m just drifting and it’s soul crushing.

Dear God someone pull me out of this hole!

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With All Due Respect

Posted June 26, 2015 By kmarrs

Borderline Personality Disorder and FriendshipI’m coming to a point in my life where no matter how desperate for friendship I may be, I don’t have time or room in my life for bullshit. I don’t have time to worry over and miss someone who claims to want me in their life, but can’t be bothered to make time for me. If you can’t even bother with an occasional text message, then I need to move on. I don’t care how deeply I care for this person or they supposedly care for me.

I don’t have time to worry over a casual friend that has to complicate every transaction. We could be great friends under certain conditions but conditions are starting to sound like work and there is only one condition that should really matter and that’s the one they draw the line at. Aka rules for a friendship are bullshit other than needed boundaries. I set up a boundary, however, and suddenly I’m complicating things. Uh uh. I don’t have time for these games.

This last one, however, is hard.  This person really got me and I could talk to them for hours during the lonely hours at night.  Then they made a couple of posts that were kind of racists.

Now, stepping back a second, here is a little clue about me: I’m all about tolerance.  I view all people on this earth as fully equal no matter gender, race, sexuality, religion, age, or anything else.  The only thing I’m not tolerant of, is other people’s lack of tolerance based on these thing.  Aka I don’t have patience with homophobes, racists, or sexism.  The only thing that effect equality from one person to the next are personal actions.

Meaning:

Very recently someone I would consider to be a terrorist went into a church filled with black people, listened to the sermon for a while, and then opened fire killing many.  That terrorist gave up his freedom to have certain rights and those black people are now unquestionably better than him.  Not because they are black, but because of his actions.

I think this is fair.

Now, this friend posted a couple semi racists things.  Or, more accurately, she liked and commented on them and they showed up in my feed.  I was highly uncomfortable with it, but as she hadn’t until that point otherwise shown signs of intolerance, I wasn’t sure what to do.  I suppose I could have let it go, but that thought gave me a bad feeling in my belly.  So I decided to come out and ask her about it.  My aim wasn’t to accuse, but instead to test the waters and see how she really felt.

The thing of it is, I’m not exactly good at beating around the bush and tend to be rather blunt.  So while I didn’t come out and call her racist, at first, I did come out and ask her how she really felt.  I learned, and then I called her racist.

She needless to say was not thrilled with this assessment, which I can’t honestly blame her, and I walked away from the conversation to better assess how I felt.  The two primary questions being, can I respect someone who is racist, and can I be friends with someone I don’t respect?  Then she openly attacked me via messenger.  One simple line that burned through to my soul.

I have not spoken to her since, but I did receive and email a day or two later.

It opened with an attack on my mental health (aka my black and white thinking).  Then it went on to what could be considered a well constructed apology.  Or at least to start with.  It was essentially the I’m not racist because I have a black friend argument, but a lot more in-depth and respectable.  I easily could have read that, understood where she was coming from, and regained some respect for her.

Then she ended the email with this: “You really don’t even deserve an explanation.”

Well ok then.  You no longer deserve to be my friend.

I know I don’t have much to offer, but… wow.

With all due respect, I’d rather be alone than surrounded by those that cause me pain.  A hard lesson I’ve had to learn over the years.  I’m not perfect but I try really hard at being a good friend, and I deserve someone who recognizes that, respects that, and puts equal effort into it.

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Nearly Wordless Wednesday: Before and After

Posted June 24, 2015 By kmarrs
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Her first real haircut, aka more than just split ends. Daddy cried. But daddy also admitted that she runs hot and her hair was always plastered to her body sticky with sweat, and this new haircut does look and is so much cooler. He always said when she was big enough to voice an opinion, her opinion would be respected, and she wanted this exact cut. I think he was just hoping she’d never ever want to cut it. Poor daddy is watching his baby girl grow up. It’s hard.

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Baby Steps

Posted June 22, 2015 By kmarrs

borderline personality disorder blog bpdI’m going to try this blogging thing out again.  I keep threatening to slip off into oblivion with it, but now is certainly not the time.  Here I am trying to hook a literary agent and then a publisher for my memoir, and this blog will hopefully be an element towards that.  I need to keep writing.

So here is a coming change:

I’m no longer going to do my weekender for a while as that ends up being 3 potential blog posts rolled into one.  I don’t have blog topics to spare.

I’m going to stick with 3 a week for now, aiming for M,W, and F.  That way I have a good spread.  If I miss one or two, I won’t kick myself but I’ll aim to keep plugging along.

It’s just hard when all days run together and nothing really changes from one day to the next.  What is there to blog about?

Oh well.  As ever I’ll figure that out as I go along.

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I’m Funny, Dammit!

Posted June 19, 2015 By kmarrs

The following is my cell phone background.

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It’s blue and simple and classic and not overly special, but I like it. I really do.

 

 

 

Wait for it.

Wait for it.

 

 

 

The following is my lock screen back ground.

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You could, in fact, say he’s guarding my galaxy.

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Depression and BPD

Posted June 10, 2015 By kmarrs

Fire_antsFor months now, my continued and prolonged state of depression has been written off as a nasty side of effect of having a sister that was maybe dying.  You know, one of those times where depression was based on real life events and not on the fact I’m all sorts of fucked up in the head.  And yes, that’s the technical term I’m going with because it’s how I feel.  Want to fight me on it?

Well, my sister’s life was saved a week and a half ago.  Oh, she’s in miserable shape as she’s recovering from a massive surgery and a long illness, but she’s no longer dying.  There isn’t any reason to think she won’t live to see 80 or older.

It is at this point that all the pretty doctors, like those in the hospital when I tried to be admitted for being a danger to myself, seem to have thought I’d magically feel better.

OK, maybe they didn’t think it would be magically, maybe just a natural cause and effect, but as much as they talked about my sister’s illness being the cause, I damn well expected the effect of feeling world’s better!

If anything I’m feeling twice as worse because the magic didn’t happen.  I didn’t magically feel better when my sister was saved.  Oh, I mean I feel loads better about that, but the depression that eats away at you, crawls under your skill like a billion little bugs invading your every nook and cranny, setting up shop so they can take over your life and eat away at you from the inside out.

And I’m depressed.  I’m depressed as fuck.

I’m taking all the right pills.

I’m doing all the right things.

My sister is saved.

And I can feel the bugs crawling under my skin, invading my life, eating away at all my little happy pieces.  I can feel them.

I can feel them.

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