I don’t want to talk about it.
Shit. I don’t have time to talk about it.
But fuck maths.
Straight A’s are nice, but I think I’d rather have friends. I’m not saying I have to choose one over the other, but that’s only because I’m too awkward to make friends and I can’t help having all the correct answers. I do need to get better at keeping my trap shut though. They are downright rude about it. Which is fine. But you don’t get to be rude to me about me knowing this shit, and then ask me for help. Nope.
Sorry. Needed to rant.
I don’t even know that to say.
I’m sitting here it is 6:45PM on Monday May 4th, 2015 and I still have no health insurance because the pissant that will not be legally responsible when I lose my shit doesn’t give a shit that he was incorrect about me getting it back on the 1st as a probably yet worse case scenario. I’m in withdraw from yes, taking nothing, and like 6 days post-op and I don’t know what part of me is going haywire because of what but every part of my down to the small molecule is going crazy from the volatile cocktail that is Fibromyalgia, unmedicated serious mental health, post operation, and a broken tooth I forgot to tell you all about that happened mid way through the month that will hence forth never be named it has been that horrible.
A month, year, life from now I will look back and see how strong I was to make it through this exact moment in time but for now I’m going to loving punch this kitten in the face.
Loving because it’s a kitten. In the face because it needs to stop telling me what the to fuck do already. Be warned other people who might carelessly throw this line around.
So instead of punching kittens I’m going to hide off grid for a bit. I promise you’ll hear from me soon and before it involves constructing an insanity plea.
Or you’ll hear from me tomorrow, I don’t know, but blogging can be therapeutic. But my blogging schedule can’t tell me what to fucking do either.
Also, I’m really active on tumblr right now and a bit more pleasant there because I’m currently fangirling over AOU.
Wait can we.
I need to back up.
First of all I feel guilty as hell for feeling as sick as I do because I chose to have my appendix almost rupture while I was withdrawing from my meds, a few days after I ripped a dental filling out of a tooth while flossing. That shit needs to stop but it’s part of the sickness. Am a manipulating my husband into giving me more time to hide?
I swear to god my appendix was a physical manifestation of the stress.
Also and my original guilt sidetrack:
I feel this compulsion to justify having spent 10$ on me and my husband’s one no matter what movie a year (MARVEL) when I can’t afford over 2 grand in meds for me in the kid. And what that movie date did for me in therapy… right down to the three young girls behind us whom as one said “ew” to a kissing scene.
I’m not proofreading this. Suck it. I’m literally shaking.
As I type this I’m currently withdrawing from Ativan because I ran out. I ran out because a minor paperwork fuck up with welfare caused us to lose our insurance for a month. It’ll be back on May 1, they assure us, and in the meantime if we pay out-of-pocket for the medication Lucas and I need, they will reimburse us.
Because yes, I have a couple grand just laying about. Luke’s meds alone cost $500. My Ativan wouldn’t be too bad, but my Geodon dose that I’m running out of next weekend is over a grand by itself and that withdraw is brutal. Not to mention it’s one of the top medications I take.
So some guy sitting in an office made a mistake, and now we either come up with a couple thousand dollars, that they’ll pay back, or Luke and I proceed to run out of medication one at a time. Thank God his Vyvanse that he ran out of 2 weeks ago doesn’t cause withdraw. It just leaves him suffering serious and sometimes dangerous ADHD symptoms. This is the kids that tried to fly a few years back when he was unmedicated. That physics experiment left him with a broken wrist. Luckily age has brought him some wisdom.
Then there is me. A month ago I was attempting to get myself admitted because I was in rough shape, and now I can’t even take my meds properly. How is this ok in someone’s eyes.
Anyway, we’re not taking this sitting down. Pat is writing angry emails to supervisors and spelling out the facts. We can’t afford to pay out-of-pocket and we can’t afford for me to run out of Geodon. I can go without my Ativan and I’ll survive the withdraw. I can even go without my anti-depressant, I might just need to hide for a few days. But man-o-man is that Geodon withdraw nasty. I’ll be going from 80 MG to nothing cold turkey, I have no means of tapering down, and unless they find a solution, I have no power to prevent it.
You can’t just cold turkey meds. Medical rule #1. You can’t cold turkey psyche meds. It’s dangerous. It causes bigger problems. The list of side effects of a cold turkey is worse than the symptoms themselves. For reference, if I was on a larger dose of Ativan, I could be suffering seizures right now. Instead, and thankfully, I’m only light-headed, nauseous, agitated, and suffering worse anxiety than usual.
But man the Geodon.
You know, when I was first diagnosed with this illness, right as I was getting pregnant with Lucas, I instantly became an expert on it. I read everything there was to read and even now I can spit it back out at you. The problem with telling you what Borderline Personality Disorder is, is that it is different for everyone. Yeah alright, there are 9 criteria and you have to meet 7 of them. Here, I’ll provide them for you.
This comes from the DSM IV – TR
A pervasive pattern of instability of interpersonal relationships, self-image, and affects, and marked impulsivity beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated by five (or more) of the following:
(1) frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment.
Note: Do not include suicidal or self-mutilating behavior covered in Criterion 5.
(2) a pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation
(3) identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self
(4) impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, Substance Abuse, reckless driving, binge eating).
Note: Do not include suicidal or self-mutilating behavior covered in Criterion 5.
(5) recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior
(6) affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)
(7) chronic feelings of emptiness
(8) inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)
(9) transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms
But even that, as defined as it is, is so open-ended. There are 9 criteria, 7 needing met (any 7) that makes 36 different combos! And that’s assuming someone only meets 7 of them. 9 more possible combinations if they meet 8. Plus, of course, those of us who meet all 9 that’s another 1. Add that all together and you have: 46 people in the same room who all have BPD, but none of them share the same combination of symptoms.
Oh Hey! It’s 5 now! That’s even more possible combinations! This room is getting crowded and none of us are alike!
Wow. And that list defines BPD? That’s ludicrous! It diagnoses it, but doesn’t define it. Doesn’t define us.
Then of course you have the nature versus nurture debate.
There are those who as children were abused, or neglected, or weren’t any of that, but suffered a lack of validation. Then you have those who suffered no ill-raising at all, but yet, something in their DNA predisposed them to have this illness and there was no real preventing it. Of course, most patients are a combo of the 2.
We are told we are the patients those in the field of Psychiatry dread. We are difficult patients. We have a limited success rate. Yet there are those of us who are no different to treat than anyone else. Surely I’m not the only one. Granted, I have an amazing Psychiatrist that lets me use my knowledge of the disorder and my knowledge of myself to help treat me. Not everyone does.
We are told we have the emotional growth of a teenager. Oh, this is true, I suppose, but there are many ways this can play out just like there are many ways the emotions of a teenager can play out. Emotions are extremely intense things and teenagers are at the phase where they are no longer just feeling them, but they can name them and target their trigger. They are learning to be at one with them while the process them. They don’t deny them. They feel them. They let them shape who they are and who they become. “That man crushed my soul and made me feel vulnerable by being overly dominating. I don’t like that. I want someone who is more my equal or maybe I want to try being the more dominating one in my next relationship.” Teenagers learn from their emotions. If adults don’t at least do that much, then may I stay a juvenile in my processing of emotions forever. I am at least adult enough to know there is a time and place for it. Maybe not all with BPD do. But then, there are some teenagers who do know how to save it for the right time and place. I’d like to think it’s an even spread for both groups.
We are manipulative, I’ll give that. Some know how to use it for good. Some know how to use it for evil. Some use it for both. Or some try their best not to use it at all. We are capable of being self-aware.
We have addictive personalities. I can’t argue that. But not all are addicts simply because they aren’t. And some know when they are picking up that bottle of vodka for all the wrong reasons and give themselves a couple of days to work through the negative shit, but then cut themselves off before it ever has a chance of becoming a real problem. Some can’t do this and are otherwise predisposed to suffer from alcoholism whether they are BPD or not.
This is all just the tip of the iceberg. And just like the diagnostic criteria, there are so many possible ways this can go, so many people with BPD who aren’t all the same. There is no one thing I can tell you that applies to all of us. Other than it’s a bad idea to try to “train us”. (Don’t ask, I came across a site that made me want to puke. A lot. From a mental health professional. No I’m not linking. She doesn’t need the site hits for her harmful hatred.) We can be taught and many of us need to be. What do we need to be taught? To recognize our behaviors. Coping mechanisms. How to allow ourselves to heal. Fine, maybe that is a training of sorts, but I assure you that is not what the hateful woman meant.
So I leave you this afternoon with the knowledge that if anyone tells you they can define BPD they are either defining themselves or the BPD patient in their life. Perhaps they are reciting a text-book. But I assure you, we are anything but text-book.
It’s funny how much in life we take for granted. It’s always there whether we chose to acknowledge it or not. Hell, there may come a time in our life where we even hide from it, refuse to interact with it, because we’ve forgotten how.
Have you ever run a mental health blog? I have for some 6 and years now. It’s always been there. At times I wrote in it a few times a day, every day. At time I checked in a few times a week. There were times when it was a few times a month. That’s basically last year. God, what a year! I should have written like crazy, but I didn’t. I forgot how. Or the pain I had inside of me was too much.
I denied my mental health blog, because I was experiencing too much mental health. Yeah.
Dear God, I took it for granted last year. At any point I could open it up and do as I please with it. Alter it. Write in it. Delete it.
I couldn’t even delete it right now if I wanted to.
All I wanted to do was have an image automatically show up in each post. I didn’t care where as long as it wasn’t a manual process that could be forgotten. After hours of searching and trying out different plugins, I found one that was highly rated and looked promising. And so I installed it.
And then a white page showed up reading, wait I can copy and paste as I have to write in a word document since it’s still there….
Add Custom Header Images requires a page titled The Headers with images and WordPress v3.4 or greater.
Return to Plugins Page
Fatal error: Call to undefined function deactivate_plugins() in /home/content/03/3798603/html/wtbl2/wp-content/plugins/add-custom-header-images/add-custom-header-images.php on line 61
I was, uh, on the Plugins Page, btw. In fact I get that message on any page. Turns out, I have to go in and alter the ftp and completely delete that file. Research taught me this. Hours of attempts and further research also taught me that the only person that has the access, unless I’m granted access, is my tech guy who hosts my domain on his server. Of course, since shit broke at 10:35PM, well, it was after his office hours.
I was so frustrated through all this, with myself mostly, that I literally shook for about 4 hours straight.
At about 2AM I wrote a pleasant email telling him what I done fucked up and how it needed to be fixed and would he rather make me a fts sign in, or go in and fix it for me real fast. I suppose it comes down to what is fastest for him, because I’m now an expert at how to fix it, when and if I get the access.
I know he’ll get the email within the next hour when he wakes. I don’t know when he’ll get to it as it’s Monday morning and he has a family and a real job to tend to.
Meanwhile I’m going to sit here and continue to freak out semi-needlessly, until I get the highly anticipated email.
After all, the stage is up perfectly. It’s only back stage that is blocked off. And I have posts scheduled to drop 5 days a week through till the beginning of March. So really, we have a month to get this fixed.
However, I swear if you are reading this by the end of the day Monday February 9, 2015, I will never again take this blog for granted.
I’m not sure I can keep up at the pace I’m at, but I promise I’ll keep shit going.
I promise you baby, just come back to me! *sobs*
I feel so sick.
Edit: I got my dashboard back at 9PM. It was a quick fix once my tech got in there. I now have the access as well just in case.
P.S. That image in the header of each post is of my own design and my own coding to get it there. Fuck plugins.