Deep Down To My Core Archive

My Little Sister

Posted February 28, 2015 By kmarrs

Liver failure blog bpd borderline personality disorder
I have made mention on here before of how my sister’s liver is basically failing and she became severely ill over the summer and through the fall of 2014.  I have gone back and forward with myself over what details I might offer on that situation.  It isn’t my life and isn’t my story.  However, she’s the only sister I have.

So let me back up about 20 years to tell the full story of a sisterhood in trouble.

Growing up and especially during our teenaged years we did not exactly get along.  We actually fought rather viciously.  There are so many things that could be blamed here, but aside from accepting my share of it, I’m not going to point fingers, name names, and list events.  It is suffice to say we were terrible sisters.

As young adults and well into my 20’s we never fought like we did, but we still picked at each other.  Basically, we didn’t necessarily like each other.  It was somewhere between Loki and Thor, and civil.  I mean I’d totes steal a battleship for her.  She’d totes follow me to another planet to bring justice for my crimes and make amends.  You know.  Only technically by age I’d be Thor.  Whatever.  You get the point perhaps.

Then a few years back one of us, I think her, decided that really we needed to grow up and be sisters, dammit.  We needed to make an effort to know each other as adults and get along for everyone’s sake.  We needed to attempt friendship.  And you know, we did, but you couldn’t call us close, even if we were friends.

Then in the summer of 2014 she came a little too close to death at the hands of the disease called alcoholism.  I’m not going into this too much as this is her story, but she was (is) an alcoholic and her liver was (is) failing.  As we all know alcoholism is a disease and not a choice, so fighting it was hard and took a couple attempts.  As well as a second, longer stay at the hospital when she came closer to death.  That was just over 5 months ago.  I know this as she is now proudly just over 5 months sober.  (She also quit smoking, you go girl, you fucking rock!)

Well, becoming sober and finding recovery was a huge help, but medically not enough.  She of course needed treatment for her failing liver.  They did all that could be done and sent her home with medications and steroids to continue with and awaited to see how much her liver would heal.  The answer was decidedly not enough.  So, my sister officially needs a transplant.  There are no further treatment options aside from this.  As she is 5 months sober and has not touched a drop since before that 5 month mark, getting a transplant is seriously doable.

Except her urine sample keeps showing alcohol use, despite her blood not.  They don’t necessarily assume secret drinking, but they can’t give her the transplant under those conditions.

Here is the deal.  Pick up any sort of hygiene product.  Check the ingredient list.  I bet alcohol is in it.  Including hand sanitizer (duh) but also things like toothpaste and deodorant in small, trace amounts.  Trace amounts that your skin soaks in and your liver gets rid of with no problem at all.  Won’t even show up in your pee.  Unless your liver really is that bad.  That close to total failure.  That’s how it shows up in your pee, but not your blood.

So she can’t be on the list, but she can fight to be reconsidered.  They aren’t just going to let her die without a fight.

She will be called up randomly and will have 24 hours to get herself to a specific medical lab where she will produce a specimen on the spot.  Think random drug test, only random alcohol test.  At first I think it’ll just be urine, but probably blood too at some point if needed.  That way if she is constantly and randomly showing she’s sober via her blood, even if her urine isn’t, she can prove her sobriety and they’ll either figure out what’s going on with her liver or just acknowledge it’s failing.  Either way she’s sober.

Additionally she is now a label reading champ and hopefully there will be nothing in her beauty, health, and food lineup that has alcohol in it.  It is hard because if that juice in your fridge is just the slightest bit fermented, you won’t notice and your liver will sort it out without issue.  Well, my sister also won’t notice, but her liver won’t sort it out at all.  So she also has to watch every bite she eats, as so much food has trace amounts.  Like certain food dyes and certain flavors of greek yogurt.

Needless to say this is a hard battle but my baby sister has a great team around her helping her fight it both in her family, her medical team, but also her big sister.

We are closer than ever.  Even have matching infinity “sister” necklaces should the world question.  I tell you there is nothing in the world like almost losing your baby sister before she even turns 30, to scare you into the relationship you should have had all along.  I’ve always loved her, but now I openly adore her. (Crap.  I’m crying again.  I do that these days.  About everything.)

Loki and Thor sure as hell don’t have that.

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blog borderline personality disorderJust as I shared in post format, this site’s mission statement, I would like to reintroduce myself.  In the past 6 years I’ve seen readers come and go.  Some have been here from the start, but how many?  And how many people really click the about me link on a blog?  So here is an introduction to me, and if you are one of my regular readers, of a long time or a short time, I would like to invite you to introduce yourself in the comments.

I apologize now as this really is in the 3rd person.  That’s apparently how we bloggers do it.  We make it sound like someone else wrote it.  Yeah.  Like we’d let someone else write our own material.

—–

Karen has been married to the same man (Patrick or Pat) Since April of 2003. Her oldest son, Thomas, was born in July 2003, her youngest son, Lucas, was born in January 2008, and her baby girl, Samantha, was born in August 2011.

Karen is in remission from Borderline Personality Disorder. Which is like saying she’s recovered, but no matter how many positive thoughts you think, like cancer, you can never assume BPD is gone for good.

Or, you know, it’s back.

At her worse, Karen struggles to get out of bed, eat 3 meals a day, function as a mom and wife, hold a job, and simply keep up her life and dignity.

At her best Karen was a successful bank teller working her way up in her career with one of the top banks in the country. She was known through her branch and beyond as being dedicated, hard-working, dependable, creative, personable, reliable, and eager to succeed and help the branch to succeed as a team.

The Karen of 2007 and 2015 looks on in awe.

Karen’s full diagnosis list, none of which is currently in remission though it’s getting “better” is: Borderline Personality Disorder, Bipolar, Generalized Depression, Generalized Anxiety, and Fibromyalgia. There are a couple other things that could be mentioned but as they are not “official”, we’ll leave them off the list. It isn’t like that list is lacking.

Karen of 2015 is spending her life working on school and recovery, as well as being the person, mom, and wife she wants to be.  She is also trying to get a career as a freelance writer off the ground.  This will hopefully help add to the family income while she is unable to work outside the home.  Additionally, it will keep her writing skill sharp for when it’s time to write her dissertation as a grad student.

Karen is a geek and finds no shame in this. She games online, around a table, and live action. The 10th Doctor is her boyfriend, and he wouldn’t even need his TARDIS, just his brains, quirky personality, bemused grin, and luscious hair. Rawr! All of time and space would be a plus, though. Karen is a brown coat who wants to see Firefly brought back, hopelessly Sherlocked, and a lover of Captain Jack be he a pirate or the brains of Torchwood. She grew up watching Star Wars and Star Trek. The Next Generation will always hold a special place in her over-sized heart. The prequels 1-3 of the Star Wars franchise are an embarrassment to the industry. Sheldon Cooper is her personal hero, Leonard is her new best friend, and Penny is getting smarter by the Chinese dinner. Then one night, in the dead of winter, while Karen was on the brink of sleep, string theory suddenly made perfect, beautiful sense. Then in the excitement of her scientific discovery, she woke just enough to lose it all and has spent her days regretting this loss to the scientific community. But with hours spent reading quantum physics for fun, it will all come back. Finally, it should be noted: Roses are #ff0e0e, violets are #0000a5, and if you understood that, you’re a nerd too!

Karen will write anything that needs said, be it proper or not. She is a firm believer that life is not to be regretted but instead learned from, and if by sharing those personal life lessons here someone else can benefit, then that is all the drive Karen will ever need to keep writing!

And after all this time, she still maintains she’s difficult.

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hope love and Borderline personality disorder (BPD)Dear You,

I wrote you a letter Monday.  It went into Tuesday’s post.  I figure you are getting it about now and my stomach is sour thinking about it.  it’s just nerves as I don’t know what you’ll say or think.  I mean, I poured all of my heart and soul into it just so that you could know all my cards.  I held nothing back at all.  I then removed you number from my phone and burned the piece of paper it was on.  Not in trying to be rid of you.  But so that I had no choice but hold back and speak first.  I think that will be what’s healthiest.  And what’s fair to me.  It gives you as long as you need to think.  I know you might read this.  I know you have the blog address now.  I’m still trying to pretend you don’t.  But I had to put my fear into words.  I am afraid.  I’m so scared to lose you forever as is one of the possible outcomes of that letter.  But should that be the case, at least I’ll have closure.  Anything is better than the not knowing and insecurities of the past year plus.  I can’t do that anymore.  You are not some douche of a man jerking me around.  I know that.  But you are still…  You’re leaving my hanging, my sweet friend.  Sweet sweet friend.  Stop worrying about whether you’re going to maybe sleep with me and if that’s what I want.  Just worry and think about if we can simply hang out.  See a movie.  Go to dinner.  Talk over drinks.  Talk.  Talk.  Talk some more.  My sweet friend.  I’d enjoy your body, sure.  But I need your words.

Yours, Me

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Not All Love is BPD Love: My Letter to the Lost

Posted February 4, 2015 By kmarrs

BPD and the Broken HeartI don’t even know what to write about you, yet the drive to do so has been with me for ever so long. A good year now, really. Longer if I think about it. In fact you can trace back when I stopped writing in this blog and you’ll probably find that to be right about the time I wanted to write about you.

My life was chaos at the time.  Rift with so much sorrow and pain.  You were the friend that led me through it all.  At the time we were just friends, as I suppose we are now.  I knew you fancied me, in the way any man who likes a great behind might.  I knew we were dear to each other.  The way any friendship fueled by an unexplained emotional bond leads to dearness.  Looking back I realize I was in love with you long before you or I realized it; and while I won’t put those exact words into your mouth, I know I am very much treasured by you.  Whether or not the exact phrase applies, I know the emotion flows both ways.

It was never about sex or physical intimacy with us, which is a fair point as we’ve never been physically intimate.  No, I’m not counting the times you caught me crying as my world was shattering, and wrapped your arms around me, trying to help hold me together and in one piece.  That move showed me your heart, not your lust.

We discussed being intimate, but it never came to pass.  Even while it would have been ok.  Even though it would still be ok.  However, I’ve never needed that from you.  Oh, I’m sure I’d enjoy it, but I’m asexual enough to never need sex from anyone.  Even you.

What I need the most, possibly of all the things in the world that I don’t have, is just your existence in my life.  See, I know you insist you aren’t a stranger and that in our core we’ll always be friends, but we are no longer in each other’s lives.  I could blame you because you are impossible to ever get to text back.  Or your fear that hanging out will cause one thing to lead to another, which you aren’t comfortable with for reason I respect.  However, I hold so much of the blame within me for leaving a job I needed to leave.  Not because anything was wrong with the job, but because everything was wrong with me.

It is funny that our affection for one another was this big secret, which I understand why, but there is someone who knew from the start.  I didn’t have to tell Pat, though.  He told me.  Granted, I had figured it out by then, but he knew.  It wasn’t anything you or I said, please understand.  He reads people like we might read a newspaper or a book or a picture book with captions.  It was in our eyes.  In every interaction with one another.  Interactions that 99.9% of the world would see and think nothing of, but he knew.  And my dear, dear sweet friend, he has never been anything but ok with it.  He knows what our friendship is to me.  How pure and wonderful it is.  How true it is.  How the mutual joy in simply knowing each other and calling each other friend is a gift.  You don’t find many of those friendships.  Usually someone has something to be gained.  Or someone is secretly annoyed.  True friendship for its own sake?  A gift.

That friendship turned to love and love acknowledged lust and that’s ok.  He knows that and is ok with that.  Our marriage’s complexity is not understood by most, but he has his one woman friend that with my blessing, and when I’m in good mental health, he may go to when she is in town.  It is hard to be married to someone with little to no sex drive, I understand, and they love each other in a way that makes it more wholesome than a random one-night-stand, and yet she would never dream of coming between him and I.

You, my dear, are my unicorn.  People flock to you.  Want to be close to you.  Want to know you.  Be your friend.  Give you their business.  He is not immune to that pull you have.  It’s literally like a gravitational pull and he’s felt it.  After he confessed he knew our feelings, we talked about it at length.  Our little secret details are still ours, but he knows the feelings, desires, and heart ache.  He doesn’t blame me one bit for wanting to be near you, even if it does lead to intimacy, and he’d be the last to blame you for wanting to be intimate with me.  Or even just wanting to sit and talk for hours over coffee or tea or even alcohol.  I’d stay 100% sober so that nothing would be done that you’d regret in the morning.  I swear to you, my dear.

That is how I knew this wasn’t BPD love.  That I didn’t simply turn you into a white knight.  His validation of it was a huge step.  The fact he fully supports us in whatever it leads to is not trivial, with the understanding you would never dream of taking me from him for good.  You always have been our biggest relationship fan and supporter, which I have come to understand to be the reason behind your fear of being with me even just as friends, even though you believe in open marriages.  I know you’re afraid of hurting him or simply respect him to much to be alone with me in any capacity.  Then it having been a year since our last real length of time spent together and my heart still shatters into a million pieces at the thought that I may never… Anyway BPD love has always been gotten over much faster.  I see the flaws in them, or they write me off, or they turn hurtful, or basically I recognize they are only human, and the desire for them is lost in the wind.

With you… A year later and I still hope that one day you really will take me to dinner for my birthday.  You don’t have to touch me in any way.  Just once again let me be subject to your gravitational pull, let your words grace my ear, let my lips be privileged to tell you my thoughts and my life.  Not only would that be enough, but that’s all I need.

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Him

Posted February 11, 2014 By kmarrs

BPD Borderline Personality Disorder and LoveYou got the best of me
Rest of me
Tried and true test of me
I lied for you
Cried for you
A piece of me died for you
I wasn’t good enough
Understood enough
I knew I’d withstood enough
You took your leave that day
Slipped away
No words of goodbye to say
You left a shattered heart
Torn apart
Tears won’t stop when they choose to start

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On Blank Slates and Life Collages

Posted October 3, 2013 By kmarrs

Borderline Personality Disorder BPDAs I have struggled over the past few weeks I have been guided to the simple fact that I get a life and personality reset.  A blank slate to build myself, find myself, and who I am.  I can wipe the slate of who I am clean and decide from this point on who I want to be.

I spent a week mostly refusing to leave a bed, unless I was draping myself over a sofa, doing nothing but reading, sleeping and thinking.  There is a lot of thinking that can get done in a week.

During that time I reflected on what I like about myself.  What I like about the corner stones of my life.  What I like about the relationships, family friend and romantic, in my life.  What did I want to keep as is?  What did I want to lose completely?  What did I want to keep but that needed tweaked a little bit to make them healthier and happier for me?

I have this blank slate before me of who I am.  I wiped everything clean.  I immediately pinned back on the things I love.  I love my career and the company my career is with, so clearly I’m keeping that.  I love that I’m caring and giving, so that went back up too.  I’m still not happy with my marriage, so that stays off.  I have a friendship or two that I’m very happy with but that needs some tweaking here and there to make them healthier and happier for all parties involved.  What did I like about the friendships?  Keep!  What did I dislike about them?  Tweak or toss.  BPD traits were really getting in the way.  Interpersonal relationships will always be hard, no matter how stable I become.  Not that I’ve been stable as of late.

I’m listening to myself, my head and heart, as I do this rebuild.  I’m listening to the collective of those in my life.  If the general consensus is that something within myself needs fixed (hey, you  might want to go back on meds) I’m going to listen and take that into account on this rebuild.  Granted, I won’t shape myself to please any one person, but if everyone around me is saying the same damn thing, it’s time to take notice.  Even if it’s just one voice, but they are the authoritative voice, like say my boss and it’s work related, I don’t need to wait for the consensus to join in.  By that point my job is in jeopardy.

I am not the same person that went into the hospital.  I don’t yet fully know who I am, yet, but I’m going to like her.

So, my friend, will you.

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