Flotsam and Jetsam

Like all these blogs lately Im up writing this at 2am. I cant sleep. Every time Im alone in the dark my brain runs wild and I cant slow it down let alone shut it off. I sleep a lot on my couch with the tv on. That seems to help.

This blog is going to be all over the map. My head is all over the map and Im spilling it here in case something useful falls out.
You have been warned.

I feel better. Mostly. I just bawled my eyes out but not really out of sadness but sort of relief, if that makes sense. I found a beacon in the dark in the form of a friend who reached out to me when I was crashing but I was too far gone to process her attempt. Im processing it now and it’s making me cry and throwing my blood pressure off enough that my ears are now ringing. If that means anything. Im literally going to use this blog to document everything. Maybe something will mean something to someone someday.
Maybe it will help me, or someone else, someday.
Maybe it will just turn into documentation of a complete mental breakdown and a hell of a suicide note. Time will tell.

She’s the only one who reached out at all. The only person who noticed and even tried to help. I really am truly alone.

Ive spent the last couple days trying to compare BPD to trauma responses. As far as I can tell they’re the same. Even the brain alterations are the same (atrophied amygdala etc). I wish I could get a brain scan. I want to know if all this is just me going crazy or if there’s a reason for it. Not that knowing a reason will help any. While on that train of reading my brain swung the other way again, trying to convince myself that all the crap I went through wasnt even that bad. Realistically it wasnt. People have come out better from far worse situations.
They’ve also come out worse so there’s that.
So much for NARM. Now Im hoping it’s a brain issues so I can point and say “see! that’s why! it’s not because Im crazy or have no self control! My brain is broken!” Ive got to admit though, it would be a bit weird to be suddenly broken now, halfway through my life, so Im probably just crazy and have no self control.

Ive always been a bit of a chameleon, I think foster care trains kids to survive that way, but Im noticing how much I do it now and it bothers me. Public me and private me arent even the same person anymore. Public me is baffling. I feel like I watch this well put together, happy, outgoing woman interact happily with all these people and have no idea how it’s even happening. At home I fall apart all over again. I put on a really good show and I dont know how I do it.
Im glad I do though. I’d rather people thought I was that person rather than the mess I really am. I wish I could figure out how to throw away the mess, or bury it, and only be that person. She’s so much more put together than I am. People like her and want to be around her. Private me is alone. Always. Alone and sad and fighting the downward spiral that leads to dark places I dont want to be.

Unless one of the guys in my life happens to want to get laid then my phone goes off. Otherwise it’s dead silent. Always. I talk to the dog a lot. I dont imagine that helps with the “Im not crazy honest!” stance. At least he doesnt answer me. Yet.

So ya, the “only a walking talking vagina” is a thing still. It’s not awesome and it’s not helping my current thought process at all. Himself desperately wants me to drive out to Sundre and see him. It’s just so he can get laid, I know that. Not only does he want a hole in the mattress to poke he expects me to deliver it. Lovely. He wont come here, apparently Im not worth the drive, and, so far, Im refusing to go to him but I dont know how long I’ll hold out. At least empty sex is something. Although at this point I feel like I should at least be getting paid.
But that opens a whole other door of self worth issues that I dont even have the capacity to tackle right now.

I cant seem to riddle out how I made it to age 46 before I completely lost control. Is it a menopause thing? Have I just been out of therapy long enough for it to stop working? Does it stop working, is that a thing? My whole life Ive managed to control myself. If I ever thought I was losing it I could talk myself down, rationalize out of it. Or at least identify where it went wrong after so I didnt make the same mistake again. Rarely has it gotten so out of control aside, I suppose, from when I was cutting but that was years ago. I seem to skip the cutting part now and go straight to just wanting out and wanting it to end. It’s no longer a downward spiral but more of a plummet off a cliff. There’s still enough sanity in this brain of mine somewhere that I cling to that edge with my finger tips. I know what’s waiting for me at the bottom and I dont want to go there. I still know that’s not what I want or how I want to feel. Im still fighting.

I think I need to stop trying to date. I think that’s a huge part of the problem although I cant point out specifically why. When I got so bad I was cutting I was also trying to date, and failing. I stopped in the intervening years and my mental health was fine (ish). Now that Ive started trying again Im crashing and the only common denominator is men (and me).
Maybe I should try women? Or just get more pets. That seems the less complicated of the two options. I dont know why attempting to date would throw me off so badly. I dont think Im particularly codependent and my two attempts this year both ended the same. I never really even invested in the second guy so why the hell would that throw me off.
If that is it then it pisses me off that what amounts to a stunt penis can screw up my life so badly; that Im allowing it to screw up my life so badly. What the fuck? Im stronger than that. Im better than that. Arent I?

On the friend front nothing has changed. Im still ostracized although I havent tried to contact anyone again either. A bunch of unanswered messages is enough for me to get the hint. I wont force the issue. I still cant get into Halloween even though the party is in 2 weeks. I still havent decorated. I still half want to cancel and half want to see if anyone will even show up. I know work people will but they only know the fun me, I just have to make sure she shows up that night and not the miserable incarnation. I guess I’ll find out in a couple weeks.

Tsumani

I watched a documentary once about schoolboys that had been abused and one of them said that abused children have to stay busy all the time in adulthood because if they stop there’s always a wave of emotion waiting to crush them. That resonated with me and, years later, I still think about it.

I grew up with no feelings. I was always totally numb and didnt really care about much of anyone. Now I care too much about everything and I feel like Im being crushed under the weight of it all.
I finally broke down and asked for help. I need help. I cant think my way out of this one.

This morning I was considering the bi-polar thing again but I cycle way too fast. I woke up suicidal, by dinner I was fine again. I dont even know why. I literally woke up with that horrible ache right behind my eyeballs of tears trying to break out and that lump in my throat and all of the horrible feelings that go with it but there wasn’t a catalyst. I literally woke up that way. That’s not right and, for the first time in a long time, I was half scared of myself. For myself.

So being me, and doing the only thing I know how to do, I dove into research. It pretty much comes down to BPD or bi-polar, throwing both at a mirror, BPD is the one that sticks at least as far as I can tell.
I dont even think that was a diagnosis the last time I was in therapy. It’s an illness Ive come across a few times in my reading and always kind of thought might be where Im at. It fits for sure but I kind of think it’s the latest fad diagnosis as well so maybe I just want it to fit. At least then I’ll have some sort of group I belong in even if it is with other crazies.

Apparently the treatment isnt cognitive behaviour therapy like I’d thought originally, its something called DBT (dialectical behaviour therapy) which, if we’re being honest, sounds a whole lot like adulting training. It’s mostly just coping mechanisms, or at least that’s what it sounds like. Im loathe to pay a bunch of money for someone to teach me things I should already know but I also cant keep living like this. The extremes are brutal and I dont want to do it anymore, it’s exhausting…and then the accompanying insomnia ensures I cant sleep properly. In short, it’s not an awesome time and I want out of it.

Here’s hoping I can get this sorted out or they put me back on the zombie pills or something. This out of control thing is nonsense and I dont want to play anymore.