BPD Is A Bitch


0

I’m sorry I don’t write anymore.  I’m just waiting for the day where my days aren’t measured by the spoonful.  I’m waiting to find the words to explain what the hell is happening to me.  I’m not doing ok, but I’ll live through it.

0

Actually, I am.  Just not here.  And it’s mostly poetry.

I’m not exactly doing well at the moment.  I mean, I don’t feel depressed and I’m not suicidal or any of that crap.  I just can’t get out of bed most days.

Logic tells me that’s depression.  It’s weird being depressed, showing so many signs of depression, without feeling overly sad.  I think, honestly, I’m too tired and lethargic to feel much of anything but tired and lethargic.

I really need to talk to my meds doctor about it but I missed my last appointment due to hitting a pot hole (read: sink hole) with the car and shredding two tires and rims.  It was glorious.  And by glorious I mean a pain in the ass.  Luckily we were already planning new tires and rims with the tax return that showed up a couple of days later, but… I missed an important appointment.

I’m not even sure what to really say to her.  ”Hi, I’m not sad but I’m not exactly living.”

But then, in many ways I am living.  When I have the energy to partake in life I really enjoy it.  Pat and I went to the ballet a week or so ago.  We saw their interpretation of Alice in Wonderland.  The day before that we went to a friend’s art show at a gallery.  When I can find the energy I make the most of it.  The catch is a slept for 48 hours leading up to and following those 48 hours of energy burst.  96 hours in bed to be able to have 48 hours of normal life is fucked up math.

And I’m getting 105% in math, so I know my math.

Anyway, I’m writing over on my new tumblr blog.  It’s mostly poetry but then, not really.  It’s whatever the hell I want it to be.  There are no rules, no restrictions, no structure.  So it currently fits what I need for my writing.  You’ll notice a theme, should you read.

I loss someone recently.  Not someone I’ve discussed on here.  I don’t want to talk about it.  Not the details, anyways.  They are private to the two of us.  I’ll leave it that.

So, the tumblr: Shakespeare She Is Not

 

1

If there is one flavor on this earth I hate more than cherry, it’s black cherry.  So imagine my delight to learn my new dissolvable medication is black cherry flavored.  I don’t get to chew, crush, or swallow this beasty.  No.  I get to put it on my tongue, where all my glorious taste buds are located, and patiently wait for it to dissolve while it numbs the tip of my tongue.

Or

Put it on my tongue, gag over it, nearly choke, have little fizzies of it hit the back of my throat, numbing the back of my throat AND the tip of my tongue, while I try not to vomit.

It was a graceful event.

Take two is tonight.

0

By trying to put logic to this subject, you’re trying to put logic to BPD.  And I ask you: Would this site even need to exist if you could put logic to BPD?  All I know is that this is what 11 years of trial and error with my husband has led to.

 

I think what I’m mostly looking for is a best friend.  One I’m not married to, that I sleep with from time to time.  Because my BPD will screw things up with Pat if I don’t sleep with them.  And I’ll start to feel trapped with Pat if I can’t sleep with them.  N would have been perfect if he wasn’t so damaged.  I need someone who isn’t damaged like Pat and I.  Who doesn’t understand why I am the way I am but accepts me as I am anyway . I need that. That was T.  He had no understanding of BPD, just knew I was damaged but saw me as special in a beautiful way.  Pat accept me as me because he can relate.  That is a beautiful acceptance and one I will never again let go of.  Pat understands fully and goes into this with knowledge.  Please don’t ever underestimate that importance.  His importance.  Right now with J and S and A and M and T and N* I’m looking for a friend first.  A best friend.  Who I will yes, probably sleep with.  That does not take from Pat’s importance, but Pat can’t take from their importance either.  I need both, not quite equally. 60/40. Pat gets the 60.

*I am not, I repeat NOT sleeping with all those people, nor will I. They are people who have come in and out of my life over the past, in one case, 2 years. Some of them are still around, others not, others barely. They are all people I’ve come upon in my quest for friendship. Also, I’m looking for friendship, not a fuck buddy. I’m just well aware that at this point in my life I need to ability to sleep with my best friend because they can make my BPD feel special in a way no one else can. Not to be confused with making me, Karen, feel special. Only Pat has full capabilities there. That’s why he’s the only one whom was allowed to put a ring on it. And the ring is back on.

0

This has some controversy.  I told my mom about this and it felt like she was ready to disown me.  I think she is settling into it some.  All I can ask her for is support, if not understanding.  She doesn’t have to agree.

Neither do you.

With BPD comes black and white thinking.  You know this, yes?  Everything thing and person of importance is either white (good, without flaw) or black (evil, there is no good).  Things can start as one and become the other.  Things can bounce back and forward.  But seeing something as grey is nearly impossible.  We just have trouble reconciling that really good people make mistakes and no one is perfect, for example.  We are, all of us, flawed.

Patrick is my only grey.

But there is something exciting about those new white knights.  They show up on their gallant steads.  They’re nice to me, flirt with me, make me want to let them make me happy.  The excitement of new love blinding me to my Grey Knight, my one truest love.

Pat and I have a lot of issues.  We’ve worked through many of them and with some counseling we’ll find and then work through the rest.  In a world where things are black and white, I need the stability of my grey.  The person whom never judges me, never tires of me, never loses patience with me, loves me for who I am, and really sees me.

The biggest threat from him is the threat to leave.  This has been hashed out.

The biggest threat from me is my white knights.  This too has been hashed out.

Right now we’ll continue to live apart.  I need my space to sort shit out, as does he.  I have some soul-searching to do.  I’m still on the journey of self discovery, and right now I still need to do that without his help.

When the time comes to leave my current home, I’ll leave it for his.  We will live as husband and wife and we’ll be happy with it.

We’ll also be open.

I won’t search for white knights, I don’t feel that need, but when one swoops in I’ll let them be in my life.  No one can swoop me away from my Grey Knight, but my Grey Knight can’t offer me the feeling of new and exciting.  My Grey Knight can’t be a new toy, though I hate that term, it helps lay out the picture.

At the end of the night, my husband will be the one I return to.  He is the love of my life.  But I will date here and there.

I’m capable of being in a closed marriage.  But I’m also capable of the BPD taking over and causing strife as I resent my husband for trapping me.  The new toy calls out to me and it promises to free me from where I’m not happy, my BPD twists the situation.

This change allows for increased stability.

And I’m not the only one benefiting from it.  He has a special someone.  I trust them together.  And I see what she does for him, that I can’t.

A friend will come pick me up, is all my kids will see.  Nothing ever in front of them.  Or I’ll go out to hang out with a friend, the kids will see.  Discretion will be key.  Should they find out, they will be taught love comes in many forms and with many possible requirements and how to have an open mind.

But in a world where they would have to choose between mommy and daddy living together but mommy having special friends, or mommy and daddy living apart…  The house will be run with love and by happy parents.

The world should learn to judge not for they too can be judged.

0

Bbt-fT5CIAAPQ7F

0

With my mental health slipping away, and my fine motor skills leaving much to be desired, I’m left wondering how much longer I can continue to get through the day-to-day, all while pretending that I’m fully functioning.

There is an old saying that a person only has so many spoonfulls of energy.  From this, the modern-day sufferers of invisible illnesses have coined the term “Spoonies”.  The idea is that everything we do takes a certain number of spoons and every day we are only given so many spoons to get us through that day.  Some days getting out of bed, showered, and dressed for the day might only take a single spoon.  Other days it might take 3 or 4.  I, personally, have both my BPD ( and its collection of friends) as well as fibro contributing to my spoon usage.  On days where my fibro is bad and giving my feet issues, it might take an entire spoon just to get shoes on my feet.  Another couple to keep them there.

For almost two years it took maybe 4 spoons to get through an 8 hour work day.  Lately, it’s been taking more like 12-16.  That’s more spoons than I have total.  What it takes mentally to sound and appear chipper, when my insides are crumbling and horrific, takes all my energy.  All my spoons.  And some days, I can’t make it to the end of the day before it shows that I am all out spoons.

I finally had to stop and ask myself if maybe it wasn’t time to stop and look for a new line of work.  My ability to perform at my best in my current job was compromised and I was becoming a liability.  I finally decided that maybe I’d be better off leaving the work force altogether for a while and filing disability.  It’s something I had hoped to never have to do, but at this point it will allow me to focus on my health.

It will also let me focus all my spoons, minus what I give to my family, on my education.  I have lofty education goals.  Even full-time everything I’m hoping to accomplish will take 10-15 years.  It comes down to: How old do I want to be when I graduate?  Do I want to have time to pay off my loans and use my degrees after graduation or do I wish to graduate as I retire?

You all have seen the back and forward of the school drama over the years.  You (should) know by now I’m a straight A student accomplishing nearly perfect grades, but that I got off to a rocky start after dropping some classes.  More than once.  Young and dumb.  I’ve since gotten my fresh start at Franklin University and am back at my straight A’s with a near perfect in most cases.  This tells me that I really can do this.  The only thing holding me back is, well, ME!

No.

More.

I’m currently working on my Bachelor’s in Business Administration, minoring in Business Economics because they go well enough together and can be finished within my electives.  Besides, Business Economics sounds fascinating.  Sorry, I’m one of those students.  Remember when I almost majored in math?  Yeah, still pissed Business doesn’t require calculus.  After my Bachelor’s I’m going for my Master’s in Business Administration and then my Master’s in Business Psychology.  Finally, because this is one I want more than the rest, I’m going for my Doctorate in Psychology.

What will I do with all that?  So glad you asked!  For starters, all of that is helpful in the business world, including banking.  But it can also be amazingly helpful should I decide to open my own private practice.

Then someday, when my student loans are paid off, I have a 401K and pension built, and I’m ready to retire, I can spend my time volunteering my time.  So many out there are disabled and in need of proper help.  How many of them, with just a little affordable (greatly reduced or even free) help would be able to reenter the work force and really contribute to society and their own personal lives and self worth?

I’m about to spend 10-15 years on disability and probably welfare.

Then I’m going to spend the rest of my life paying all that back in actual money but most importantly, in my time.  Because I can.

Or, at least, I’ll be able to.

Next Page »