Thought Provoking Archive

A Girl and Her Protector

Posted August 22, 2014 By kmarrs

Children of Borderline ParentsMy Samantha and her “Lou-Lou” have always had a unique relationship.  It is a step beyond your typical brother-sister relationship.  They are buddies, but it’s more than that.  It’s almost like a twin bond, but they are years apart and that still isn’t it.

A recent example of this is the recent discovery that when she wakes in the early morning light, but isn’t quite ready to face her day, she breaks out of her room (There is a baby gate up that she can get past easily but it’s there as a visible boundary that all children need.) and crawls into bed with him until the day begins.  Last night there was a fierce thunder-storm and I fully expected her to land into bed with me, but she didn’t.  So I went to check, and sure enough it was Luke’s bed she sought safe haven in.

I have always believed that we all have more than one soul mate.  Some are meant to be life-long lovers.  Some are meant to be life long friends.  Some are meant to come in like a force and leave just as fast, but having played an important life changing role in the eye of the storm of their coming and going.  I can name a few of mine, I assume I have more to come.

I have truly come to believe that my Lucas and Samantha are soul mates.  In a way, they way they act around each other it’s like they are in love, but in a strictly non-sexual way. (Come on, don’t go there.)  They just have this love and need for each other that is fierce and knows no ends.  They find comfort in each other when scared.  He protects her like it’s his sworn duty, not caring that mommy and daddy would be just as happy, nay honored, to protect her.  His patience with her is a patience my Lou-Lou is not well-known for.  She can get away with things their big brother could never dream of.  When he is in deep need of his personal space, and quiet not letting anyone in, there she is by his side.  She doesn’t seem to have to ask to be let in, she’s just in.  Sure, she may not know the worries of my troubled little boy, but she seems to know how to treat them.  Hell, maybe she does know.  They’ve shown signs of being able to read each other’ minds.  You jest, but we’ve made the hive mind joke more than once around here and it’s eerie at times.

I am curious to see how their relationship forms over the years as they mature, and it matures.  However I’m willing to bet it will only get stronger.  She may not always need to crawl into his bed when the midnight storms scare her, but I’m betting if she does need to, he’ll simply role over.  Then as they’re grown and separated by more than a hallway, well… I can honestly say that thought breaks my heart.

My Sambam and Lou-Lou are one of a kind.

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Level 10 aka BPD Word Vomit

Posted June 15, 2014 By kmarrs

word vomit and BPD impulse controlI think everyone has those moments in their life that are on constant repeat even decades later where they are like, “Omg did I really say/do that?” In most cases, I think we blow them out of proportion and we feel this undying mortification or regret for things that we are, in fact, the only ones to remember.  We are, after all, our own biggest critics.

I do also think, however, that someone with BPD who is at their most unstable adds a whole new level to this.  Because while everyone says things that they wish they could take back, we are far more unfiltered and reach astounding heights in our ability to be uncensored, unaware of consequences, and incapable of impulse control.

There are things I have said and done, mostly inadvertently, that I just can’t help wonder if things could be different if they hadn’t been said or done.  The relationships I have destroyed that I held so dear, that I didn’t realize until it was far too late what was happening.  I was that far gone, that unaware of the situation, and that trusting that the other person would understand I was at my worst and didn’t have the skill set to really control my impulses, my thoughts and my situational awareness.  And clearly, that was misplaced trust.

And please don’t get me wrong in that.  The fault is my own.  Everyone realistically has their limits on what they can turn a blind eye to, and me at my worst can push past the limits of even the most patient of people.

I just…

While everyone reflects back on the time they put a foot in their mouth, and mostly with needless worry…

My regrets run deep.

And some wounds, I truly fear, will never heal.

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They were wrong

Posted June 12, 2014 By kmarrs

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Life Can Smell Your Fear

Posted May 29, 2013 By kmarrs

I think life is about doing the things that scare you until they no longer scare you.  When was the last time you did something that scared you?  Did you do it again and again until fear was the last thing you could imagine feeling?

This year has been about crossing things off my to-do list for life.

I’m back in class.  I mean really back.  I’ve taken out loans.  If I stop going, that is all the sooner I have to pay that money back, with no degree to advance my career, to make is possible.

I sat down and wrote out a financial plan.  Some are just goals, like what year I hope to be off all government assistance by.  Some is actually dated such as going in and refinancing our car the first day of my vacation in July.  It’s almost ridiculous that taking control and making a plan could be scarier than floundering in the pools of broke, oh so broke.

This July I’m taking a 9-line zip line tour.  I can only imagine that my current “OMG WEEE!” will have the addition of “I’m going to DIE” once I’ve climbed up high, am strapped in, and it’s time to fly.

I’m boarding a plane in November to meet face-to-face a friend I’ve only ever known online.

While there I’m catching up with another friend I met in real life, who, depending on if she gets the job or not, might be able to help me rappel down the side of a skyscraper.

This year, I’m living.  And living can be some of the scariest shit there is.

So I have to ask, when was the last time you did something that scared you?  Will you comment and tell me about it?

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Stigma

Posted May 8, 2013 By kmarrs

We are what we make of ourselves.  And our disease is what we present it to be.

If you behave badly and use your mental illness as an excuse, you are helping to propel the stigma of mental illness forward.  If I only know one person with BPD and that person makes bad decision after bad decision, drinking, drugging, sleeping around, hurting themselves and all those near them, and then turns around and blames all this behavior on their BPD as if it’s an excuse, as if they can do as they please because they have this disease, then I’m going to assume this is what I can expect from all those who have BPD.  I may well be your future boss, lover, friend.  This makes it hard for all the others who have this disease but fight every.damn.day to not let it define them prove that BPD isn’t a life wrecker.  And I don’t just mean the life of those diagnosed but the lives of those surrounding those diagnosed.

Maybe remission and recovery isn’t about being 100% symptom free.  Maybe it’s about having the symptoms so well-managed and maintained that you can fool even yourself into thinking you are symptom free.

And where are those people standing up saying “Look at me!  Yes I destroyed so many lives including my own for such a long time.  But nowNow!  Now I have skills and a sheer determination that I will no longer drown in my diagnosis.  I am not my diagnosis, I have my diagnosis!”

Those fighting to destroy the stigma.  Those working amazing jobs with respectable careers despite their diagnosis, terrified to let their diagnosis be known because those words could ruin it all, based on the rep of those people making poor decisions and instead of owning up to them, choosing to blame those words.  These people need you to stop and look at your actions.  I’m not saying that you can automatically stop the actions.  But you can choose to own up to what you do, instead of blaming a diagnosis thinking that you can get away with whatever you want now.  You can’t.  Do you know right from wrong?  Then except that you have done wrong.  You, the person, said those words, did those things.  Not the diagnosis.

I’m not saying I’ve never been guilty of this.  We all have at some point.  But now?  Now I’m on the other side.  And if there is one thing I can do from this side, if I get to choose that one thing, then I choose to show those where I’ve been how their actions, and not owning their actions, create the stigma that all those on both sides try to fight.

We are fighting what we, ourselves created.

How’s that working out for you?  I have to say, it isn’t working out so well over here.

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Identity

Posted April 3, 2013 By kmarrs

When I started this blog, back in December of 2008, one of the first things I pondered inside me and on paper was what my online identity would be.  Not being infertile or an ex-Mormon, but instead being in the throes of BPD and the early diagnostic stages, it was fairly obvious what my niche would be.

But four and a half years later, I’m not that same Karen and I’m not feeling my niche.  Not fully anyway.  I’m not in the throes of a break down.  I haven’t recently had and moved on from an affair.  I’m not in danger of taking a vacation at a mental ward.  I’m not a danger to myself or anyone else.  I haven’t cut in years.  I not scheduling my life around my therapies and my psychiatrist.  In fact, I’m not in any therapy and I only see the psychiatrist 4 times a year on a better safe than sorry policy I’ve implemented.  We’re getting ready to cut me loose there.  But since the Fibromyalgia treatment involves mental health meds, I’m not in a hurry to cut her loose because if those meds kick me too far unstable, I need her in my corner telling my meds doctor he’s a moron and to listen to me already.  He isn’t a moron.  He’s just in territory he hasn’t charted himself.

I’m not the same me.  I’ve recovered.  I’m stable.  I’m tired and cranky, but I’m raising 3 kids, working full-time and getting ready to introduce school to the mix.  You show me one woman in my shoes who isn’t tired and cranky and I want whatever she’s taking.  I assure you it isn’t legal.

In all honesty, I think that’ why I’ve slowed down on blogging.  It isn’t for a lack of words.  My husband can assure you that in the nearly 10 years we’ve been married, happily or otherwise, I’ve never once shut up.

But if I’m not writing my niche, what do I write?  What is my persona?  What place do I carve out for myself in this world to claim as mine?

I was, for a time, one of the more popular BPD bloggers out there.  Now by popular, you can’t compare me to your average blogger.  I couldn’t judge my impact by how many thousands visited me.  I couldn’t base my value on how many people pissed themselves laughing from my stories.  Instead I judged by how many emails I received crying out for help, or thanking me for help via my words.  I wasn’t marketable.  I couldn’t make ads work because millions saw them.  But I changed lives.  I saved lives.  That was success.  Honestly, that’s true success.

But I’m not that writer anymore.  Unless I drudge up old stories I can’t give those in the throes of despair something to compare to.  I can’t give you the “I’m no longer alone” effect and community.

I hit rock bottom.  I wrote it with a brutal truth.  A brutal honesty.  I broke all the rules.  I could have been denied jobs with a simply Google search.  I added real medical information about BPD.  Its diagnostic criteria, or at least how it applied to me.  Its statistics.  Who out there you see on TV, the big screen or hear all over the radio that might be going through this too.

But now I’m floating, swimming, even soaring.  I’ve grown.  And while I have no interest in taking this blog down, it is my home and it does still give important information, I don’t know how to grow it from here.

Identity.

What is my angle?  My persona.  Even when blogging with 100% truth, there is still a persona in place.  Every blogger has one.  They are lying if they say otherwise.

My persona focused on the downward spiral.  It didn’t mean I lied or covered up the good times in life.  It just meant my focus was on allowing you to relate to me at my worse.  That way, I wasn’t alone and neither were you.  It kept me writing and it kept people reading, because in writing and keeping people reading, I could slip in the information about how atypical anti-psychotics, while off label, can be magnificent for treating BPD.  That information, which I came upon myself, saved my life.  Yours?  Damn skippy I’m going to work to keep people coming back if I can save a life or two because of it.  Or help people in Israel find DBT.

But what do I have now to keep people coming?  Not just the hits I get via people Googling information about BPD and my blog being front page.  What do I have to offer that will keep people actively engaged now, in 2013, and beyond?

What the hell is my identity?

I don’t want to be the girl with chronic pain.  That’s being done, and well, by many others.  I’m not a mommy blogger.  Lordissa no!  I can’t spin my day-to-day into hilarity that has you literally laughing out loud and nearly your damn ass off, not simply “typing lol” without making a sound.

And that is all OK.  I’m not regretting that.  Well, maybe I wouldn’t mind being Bloggess funny.  However, there can only be one Beyonce the Metal chicken, and sadly, I’m Victor not learning to pick my battles.  I must fight them all. Fight ALL! THE! BATTLES!  Really, I don’t understand how I’ve been married for nearly 10 years.  That’s half my adult life!  A third my total life!  I can’t even commit to a favorite color.

And that’s not my niche.  I have no advice to offer on how to make a marriage work.  Unless you want tips on sheer bullheadedness in refusing to give up.  In which case, here is what you do: Your spouse asks for a divorce.  You tell them no.  There, niche covered.  Also, that advice doesn’t actually work for most.  Also, wouldn’t recommend the potential affair in that mess.  While it oddly fixed us, that also is very usually NOT the case.  So m’kay.  Affairs bad.  Bullheadedness not usually effective.  I double covered that niche.

Guys, who the fuck am I?

No, really.

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