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Posts from October 2010

  • i havent posted yet and here i am putting stuff really dramatic, as we tend to do, us with Borderline or possibly other Personality Disorder.  well i know im not feeling right and ive been trying to find out how to settle myself, with no luck.  ive been extremely angry for 4 weeks at least and acting out or triggery most of the time.  this is very tiring to be like this.  well now ive gone back into myself and im crying again.  i got in touch with the Samaritans, and i was putting stuff on facebook about abuse, but ive now ignored the Samaritans and ive deleted all my posts ... this is typical of me, i am like a fiddlers elbow

    but i feel so bad, im agitated, im tired out, im anxious, i hate myself, i cant feel loved or settled.

    i cant ask anyone to help, yet i cant settle.  i dont want anyone too close, yet i fear abandonment, i want someone to be near but not overwhelming me, and at the mo, the way im feeling i cant really read and take things in.  what i did find over the past few blogs i read, that others do manage and ive lived with this for ever, so i know it will pass.  but when you feel like this, its hell. 

    we are our worse critics, i mean, i tell myself, go for a walk, or dooooo something ! but i cant, i cant settle or focus to any task.  i am tired of being alone, but i cant deal with people.  what a big mess huh.  i know in another time and place i could be the one giving advice, but right now, its beyond me.

    what i was asking myself, as this flows, comes and goes, perhaps its a form of bipolar, with the familiarity of the extremes.  my daughter seems very possibly to have bipolar and its possible she has BPD too, tho we are not in touch and i know i dont have the overwhelming heights that she does.  at the same time, i may always have had it, and have it different to my daughter.  i dont know and i find it very hard for others to know either, as each of us have our own ways of coping, our own path, and journey.  i could offer advice to another but not have the answers for myself

    i do worry about my husband tho.  it is such a demand on him.  like its halloween, well i watched a lot of people carrying pumpkins etc and i went out to take some pics, didnt see any lanterns at all which i was surprised over, my hubby and i were chatting and i found him agitating me.  he was actually possibly just taking care of me, but i didnt see it like this and became somewhat confrontational.  its that perceived risk, versus the challenge in me.  how very difficult for someone else to manage.  and then i lost my impetus, came in, told myself i was useless, couldnt take any good pics, and became thoroughly demoralised.

    soooo....unsettled and its eating into me.

    grrrr.  wish i could find a way that worked for me.  want to go see the dr, she is new, only met her once, what she knows of me i couldnt say and i dont deal with change or many many situations, i want to go tell her how bad it is, the rages, the temper, the crying, the tiredness, just how overwhelming it all is, the frustration, the not knowing who i am other than this awful person, who cant deal with life, yet resents so much having a carer and to be in this situation.  i sound like a child, i very much feel as ... overwhelmed as a child might

     

     

     

     

  • Sunday

    by Cadence on 31 October 2010

    I wrote this huge long entry about myself and then deleted it. It's not what I want to say. What I want to say is that I am still here. I am 23 years old and I feel like I've lived for a long, long time already. Depression gives you an extra life on top of the one you live already. Time can speed up and slow down when you live a lot inside your own head. Things get muddled, you remember things that never happened and you forget things that are really obvious. Words are falling out of my head at the moment, which is unfortunate because I am supposed to be a writer.

     

    I am going to start this blog in the hopes that I will always have something to say that will keep me going until the next entry. If I can afford myself any chances to feel I can stay alive and keep being alive, then I'll take them.

  • I was reading Torchwood Fan’s blog entry ‘Struggling with BPD’. As far as I know there are some similarities between BPD and DID and although I haven’t read a lot on this yet, I did read that often people with DID have been misdiagnosed with BPD in the past, or have both diagnoses. So there must be some similarities. Anyway, it got me thinking about what things have helped me not to self harm in the past. I wrote a wee list; some of the points are more general, as in, things that have helped when I’ve been extremely depressed or overwhelmed with emotion or just things that have helped my mental health. I am not trying to teach or preach here by the way guys. I know that sometimes, nothing helps me feel differently, but sometimes I surprise myself and things can improve. These are just things I’ve tried and found helpful with varying levels of success so they may or may not help you but I hope they do and if so, let me know.

     

    For me, the most likely things to help when I want to self harm are:

    -Sometimes just imagining holding a blade in my hand and mentally self harming without actually doing it can be enough to calm me. Or actually just holding the blade against my arm but not doing it helps me to feel in control.

    - Drawing cuts on my arm with a pen.

    -Pressing my nails or a pointy object into my skin/biting my skin to feel pain but not cause injury.

    -If you have parts like me, trying to tune into the more caring parts or the child parts and think about how you feel about those parts. Ask yourself if they deserve to be hurt? You can probably do a variation of this if you are one single person as well.

    -Trying to think of the future and how having scars could hinder you. This thought prevented me from harming a lot when I was asked to be bridesmaid because I knew I’d need to have my arms bare. Nowadays I have nothing like that to bear in mind and it’s a lot easier to not care.

     

    General things that help me in a crisis (sometimes!):

    -Trying to remember that I have reason as much as others to love myself and then, I try to think of a loving thing I could do instead of a harmful thing. So reminding myself that bad things that have happened weren’t my fault and that it’s ok to feel upset and that others would struggle too.

    -Write a list of the things that you like to do and pick one e.g. have a bubble bath/do my nails/buy myself a present. Don’t let yourself feel guilty about it!

    -Cuddling my cat. I don’t know if you have a pet but this helps me to calm down.

    -Scribbling on paper.

    -Writing down how I feel. If there are a lot of voices in my head I try to write down what everyone’s saying.

    -Writing a letter to someone to talk about how you’re feeling (not necessarily with the intention of giving it). A couple of times I’ve written to my clinical psychologist when in a crisis and knowing that I can give her the letter or verbalise what’s on it when I next see her is comforting and helps me feel there is hope. Writing on your blog is an alternative.

    -Again for people with parts (and possibly those without: don’t we all have an inner child?) my motherly, caring part can draw a picture for my younger scared/upset part. Last time, the caring part filled a page with hearts and coloured them various shades of blue because she knew this was Little Cs favourite colour. She also sang her a lullaby while doing it. Then she wrote Little C a letter on the back telling her there was nothing to be scared about. This helped Little C feel a lot better after being triggered by disturbing flashbacks/images.

    OK I know that might sound totally crazy to you, but this is how it is in my world and I am trying to be honest on here.

    Sometimes nothing helps. I hate to be the voice of doom here. If you can add anything to my list that might help me as well, please please do! And good luck Torchwood Fan and everyone else coping with these issues in life. It helps me to know that there are others, not that I would wish these feelings on anyone. :(

  • bpd im not alone

    by torchwood fan on 30 October 2010

    hi everyone im on my own so i can write,Andrew sounds really positive dosent he i know what he says is right but im not there yet.im really worried because i have to go for my benifit assessment again this week.last time i think i scared them half to death im cutting more and more and the voices in my head seem to just get more and more negative also [this is the creepy part ]my hallusinations are back big style they constantly criticise me ane they will be there at the assessment i cant answer them and the benifit people at the same time i will take my blade with me to use before i go in. if i fail i will have to look for a job again my last one ended in disaster bpd has ruinend my life i have found people are hurtfull and i gave up on friends long ago .my husband and children are ok and try there best but its like we all walk on eggshells and im the cause of it all of it  i have to go my head is driving me crazy i will go for a cup of tea take care out there.

  • I'm tired today. The neighbours were playing music in the night, REALLY loud. I went to the gym this morning: I'm on the healthwise GP referral scheme at the moment so going three times a week. It's hard work and I don't see much progress in myself. Unfortunately, the years of disordered eating have taken their toll on my metabolism. I gain weight when I eat a 'normal' diet and exercise has minimal impact at the level I am doing it at. It's not a good incentive for me to try to be healthy. Starving myself or purging food from my body has caused my body to cling on to every calorie it gets in case a famine is on its way again. As my mental health shifts, I decide to eat healthily, then I put on weight and eventually, I feel I have no solution but to go back to the unhealthy methods of weight control. Each time this cycle occurs, my metabolism gets a little bit slower. It's a spiral.

    Now that I am trying to eat right and exercising, it seems to be just about enough to keep my weight stable. Not going up, not going down, not what I want. It's hard to keep motivated.

    My angry part has been out  a lot this week. This is the hardest part to live with and the most risky part for my physical health as the emotions are so extreme I tend to self harm to distract myself from them. It's probably the hardest part for my husband to deal with too. When this part is out I tend to avoid everyone and just want to be left alone. I can't tolerate being around people for long. I tend to hibernate into myself. I can't hide from my husband though and he sees me in a 'bad mood' and wants to know what has caused it and what he's done wrong or he wants to have a go at me about something and he just can't understand that it's not about him and it's not a part of me he can reason with. This part is always right and willl lash out if challenged.

    He does know about Dissociative Identity Disorder. Unfortunately, his understanding of it and how to deal with it is still in the early days. In some ways he's great: he recognises Little C (probably because it's very obvious: her voice, expressions, gestures and language are so different) and responds to her very well most of the time, but when the angry part comes out he tends to think it's just me being unreasonable. I don't want to make excuses for myself, I know IT IS me, but it's different for me because that part of me is more separate from this part and to try to reason with that part is pointless. But if he can just be sympathetic or let that part be, eventually it will pass and another part will be able to apologise for the grumpiness and make it up to him. It just needs time.

    It's interesting with Halloween this evening to observe some of the dialogue going on in my mind about it. I grew up in a cult (that may be a story for another day, LOL) and Halloween was not something my family ever got involved with. Some of my parts don't understand why people like to dress up and look at scary ghosts and gory creatures. It is too scary for some of my parts, too gruesome, too nightmarish. Another part sees the fun and wants to get involved with it all. Another part is bitter and distant from the whole thing. I had been fully planning on hibernating to the back of the house tonight with the curtains closed and lights out so as to avoid any trick or treaters but at the last second while fighting my way through the crowds at Tesco today, I found myself buying some bags of sweets and feeling sorry for the potential trick or treaters at the thought of the Scrooginess I was planning on showing. This surprised me as five minutes previously I was adamant that I would have nothing to do with it and that it was a bothersome and annoying festival.It's not unusual for my opinions to swing like this from one side to the other.

    'Ambivalance' is a word I hear my clinical psychologist (and the one before her as well) use a lot to describe me. I didn't used to know what it meant, now I realise it's a useful word that I guess a lot of DID people would use. Mixed feelings. It's no wonder I have such trouble making decisions; there's always various opinions.

  • Hi,

    I am a carer for my husband who is housebound due to suffering from agoraphobia., depression and anxiety.

    He has been housebound now for over two years. Our lives totally changed after he had a panic attack and the only place he felt safe after it was home. He got progressively worse and is now agoraphobic.

    It very hard as our lives are completely different now, we used to socialise a lot but now unable to. We decided to see if we could help others or meet new people who was in a similar situation to us.

    We recently developed a forum for people who find themselves housebound at times for days, weeks, months or longer at a time. We have been overwhelmed by the response and need for such a simple thing as a forum.

    We have specic condition rooms as well as a lounge for general chat and carers section. We are different in that we have a fun section that includes quiz nights, book reviews, recipes and more. We want to bring the outside inside and help others who are in a similar situation to ourselves. Setting the forum has helped my husband immensely, he now has more motivation and has something to get up for in the morning.

    We love the fact that we can help other and have recently been added to the NHS HEALTH A-Z Pages and NHS Carers Direct Directory. As well as the NHS we have support from numerous organisation and overwhelmed by the response.

    We hope that from our own experience we can help others.

    Calsie

    Housebound Forums

  • It has been a while since I've posted. Like a previous 'blogger' noted, life must be good, and in a way it has been. I am still off work, after losing all sense of direction or care and leaving a backlog of mess for others to deal with. Suffice to say my performance and competence was brought into question. I could not hide any longer, things were not right in my head, and I would spend the most the day in a daze repeating the same task over and over, much to the consternation of my team leader. I am finally on prescription drugs for anxiety (don't think I can mention the brand here). This has been a battle of sorts, I was told I had to return to work with only four counselling sessions under my belt since July, after having been diagnosed with stress, (isn't everything stress). I knew within myself that there was no way I was ready for the real world. I pleaded incessantly, detailing my every symptom and affliction I had omitted or never had time to discuss with my doctor. Really, is three minutes per visit enough time to plough through your whole catalogue of insecurities?

    To cut to the chase I can testify that unlike the cliché, the drugs do work, if only in the short term. Apart from the initial headaches, I feel pretty good. I am getting more focused and trust me that feels really weird. The incessant chatter in my head is almost gone, replaced with a more unusual and therefore worrying phenomenon of dud. Yes dud!!, almost no feelings, my wife has noted today, being my sixth day on the drug, that I looked dazed and 'out of it'. Is this what if feels like to be focused? It feels like there is a hole or vortex in my head, my life and personality has been sucked into another dimension. What of all those thoughts and ideas, plans of things to do that never gets done, (learning Japanese, and Spanish, fixing the bathroom or varnishing the doors, which I was meant to do since April, and don't get me started on doing my studies for my exams. Two days before, I would start revising, now I am already making notes and reading at least a chapter a day. This is unusual, spooky and downright exhilarating.

    I had a meeting with an occupational therapist on Wednesday, she seem surprised, amazed even that with my life history, I can be so optimistic and genial. She expressed concern however with some aspects of the things I said, mainly to do with witchcraft or black-magic and hinted that there maybe some underlying psychosis, which is interested and is not the purpose of this blogpost but which I will comment on later postings, suffice to say that I am somewhat overwhelmed that something as important (well to me anyway) as dreams seem to be readily dismissed and the topic of demons, spirit possession, jinns, kalipuja-pending on your religious background, or almost readily dismissed as the machinations of an over-fertile mind.

    Anyway I can as yet I don't quite feel zombielike, just slightly more detached, and this seems to be quelling my anxiety to no end, which bizarrely has a positive effect on my sex life, considering one of the effects is meant to be impotence. I am less anxious about the future, and deal with the constant din of the children without getting agitated, I have less interest in wasting my time watching television and procrastinating, preferring now to get things done, rather than hiding and hoping things will go away. This may seem minor to many, but for a wondering mind and restless soul, the drugs so far have been a lifesaver, which no amount of pep talk or positive thinking was able to change.

  • Warning: some people may find some of this post disturbing.


    For the last month or six weeks, things have been quite good for me comparatively. Previously, I had several months where I was really struggling. Since the springtime I had been taking many laxatives each day to self harm (giving me awful stomach cramps, stopping me from sleeping and causing me to feel permanently dizzy and ill besides the obvious) and as part of the eating disorder I have had on and off since the age of eleven. I had also been cutting myself on a regular basis over the summer amongst other unhealthy behaviours.

    I felt for quite a while that I was in self destruct mode and to be honest, I wished I could just collapse and not have to go on. I even wrote a suicide letter at one point. I don’t think I really intended to do it, but the fact that the thought of it was my main comfort, is not a good thing.

    I feel things are a bit more settled now although, if I’m honest with myself, there are some days when every step I take is a struggle. I feel I am dragging myself through my life, clinging on by my fingernails. However, it doesn’t matter how awful things are, I still manage to go to work every day, chat with my colleagues, have a laugh with friends and appear relatively normal. Sometimes, while talking to a colleague and observing myself in natural conversation, I wonder what they would think if they knew what goes on in my life when I’m not in the office. Do people have any idea that I have completely different personalities? Do they notice when I come in to work looking like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards because I have been up half the night arguing with my alters? Do they wonder what’s up? I’m sure they must wonder why I am always wearing wrist bands and why I complain of being so warm but will never take my cardigan off. What would they think if I pulled my sleeve up and showed them the scars? I’m sure it wouldn’t add up. I’m a friendly, pleasant girl.... I have a house and a husband and a nice job and I don’t seem crazy.

    It takes every ounce of my energy to get through each day. If I lived alone I would probably have a bowl of cereal and climb into bed to hide from the world in the evenings. But I have a husband to look after and I can’t hide from my responsibilities. He doesn’t get why I lose the rag at the littlest inconveniences and just thinks I’m a moody bitch, but it’s because I’ve used every drop of energy to make it to 7pm and then I have to miraculously come up with more in order to have a ‘home life’ as well. Sigh.

    It’s no surprise that I have begun relying on my function part to take over and live my life for me. This personality is a necessary part of me; this person who goes to work and interacts with others. It allows me to function. This person doesn’t have so much of the emotion to deal with. Sometimes I can fool myself into thinking I’m doing well in life because I have the outward appearance of doing well in life. I guess this part of me has been dominant over the last while and when it is, I can easily forget that I have any problems at all. It’s easy to ignore the odd flashback or forget that I didn’t get any sleep a few nights back, when I’m in the flow of a conversation about perfume with one of the girls on lunch break.  But it doesn’t take much to crack my facade.

    This part, as I think I mentioned before, is very adept at ‘living’ but has no feelings or emotions and is a fragile state to be in. If things go wrong when I’m in function mode, the consequences can be devastating.

    It only takes a fight with my husband and function mode goes out the window. I don’t have a name for this part by the way, because to me, my function mode part is not really a ‘living’ being as they don’t have feelings. They are like a robot.

    Function mode disappears when I’m challenged, such as this evening; I was ‘functioning’ away when my husband and I had an argument. I can’t remember what it was about or what was said but function disappeared and suddenly I was overwhelmed with emotion. I was instantly aware of all my pain and the mess of my life that I had been blissfully ignoring for weeks. I crashed to earth as I realised again how unhealthy my mind really is and all my emotions flooded into consciousness. I didn’t know what to do. I did what I always do when I’m overwhelmed, I got my box of blades. I wanted to be dead. I couldn’t see any solution to all the pain except for it all to be over. At the same time, I was reflecting on myself at how I was only earlier congratulating us at having made so much progress. I was thinking how ‘stable’ we’d been lately. I marvelled at how I had only been fooling myself the whole time.

    Now, I can’t cut myself easily, I can do it but not as much as I wish to be able to at the time. That’s the job of another part, a part that can tolerate the pain more. I wished for that part to take over and do it for me as I was not managing very well to slash my skin open. I begged it; I held the blade and tried to disappear in the hopes that it would take over and it’d be all done and I’d feel better. But a different part took over instead tonight. This part decided to firstly, stick a big plaster on my wrist and then to get a pen and paper and write a long letter to my therapist. This surprised me somewhat as this part is not usually a very helpful part. This part is usually my anxious, skin scratching dermatillomanic alter who I think I told you about recently. This part was able to acknowledge all the terribleness that was going on and make something useful happen as well as distract me with the letter writing. By the end, I felt just really sad and a bit sorry for myself, but the crisis was over.

    And after it all, tomorrow I will go into work and forget all about it and if by chance my sleeve pulls up a bit and I see the cuts on my wrist, I might be shocked and feel so separate from it as though it’s not my arm or me with the problem. It won’t really apply to me. Or at best, if I am struggling to feel real in the day, I will look at it and remember: I am real. I do feel and it will comfort me.

    Candycan

    P.S. There is an ongoing debate inside as to wether to post some of our internal dialogue on the blog or not. One person has commented on a previous post that it would be a good idea but some of my parts aren't sure they want that exposure. I'm also not sure if it would be OK to post because usually, it contains disturbing and offensive 'stuff' (couldnt think of a better word for that) and might get me in trouble with the moderator. If you have an opinion, let me know.

  • Another borderline Day

    by Andrew grice on 28 October 2010

    I accept full responsibility for my actions and I'm NOT ASHAMED.

    Mental health is no excuse for me.

    We know we have choices we just need to learn the correct ones to make our lives better and more acceptable to those around us.

    Stop blaming others for our actions.

    Its 3 words.

    Borderline = neither here nor there.

    Personality = what makes us who we are.

    Disorder = not organised.

    A psychologist one day found some one that was neither psychotic or neurotic they were borderline (not quite) psychotic.

    There is a key to all of this confusion and it is to know who you are.

    You have to accept we are different but in a good way.

    Embrace and use your enhancements.

    Learn independence and control.

    FEEL good that you belong.

     

    We all have choices but we can so easily convince our selves that we don't.

    We can chose to self-harm or not. (yes we can chose and we know it)

    I made a choice for a better life.

    I can no longer fool my self that I am trapped and alone I decided I wanted better life than this before I make a mistake and die.

    I accepted who I am.

    I learned about BPD so I had a better chance to control it and not let it take me to my grave.

    To know BPD is to know our self and to give our self an identity that is positive for the first time in our live.

    I chose BPE ¨Borderline Personality Enhancements.

    Wye not Enhancements.

    If we are more sensitive and caring than most.

    Therefore we must be a good person.

    We just have to learn to control and tone our emotions down.

    My identity has always been there I just didn't see it.

    I am my-self and nothing else.

    So lets take a look at the middle word of our label because it's the most important one.

    Personality

    What is it?

    It is all we experience from birth to death.

    The most important time is from 1 to10 years of age.

    We take on the necessary skills to survive.

    Fire can burn.

    Love can hurt.

    These experiences build in to what people call Cognitive behaviours, and the word cognitive can be replaced by the word Automatic.

    They are deep seated automatic responses to a given situation that we find ourselves in.

    And they are the correct ones for us based on the life that we have experienced.

    STOP AND THINK

    Easier said than done!!!!!!

    However there are some keys to this.

    I can use positive emotions to fight negative emotions. The trick is to find them first.

     

    Had enough of wrighting this now so i will be off

    By BY

  • My my it's been a long time since I posted. I suppose that means that things have been quite peachy recently, and I haven't needed to cathartically spit out all of the negativity onto an anonymous audience quite like I used to. And you would think that my return means that things haven't gone well at all? You would be right.

    I can't remember what was going on the last time I blogged, I was probably experiencing problems in my relationship, and those problems never went away. In part I blame myself, because I have these really unreasonable outbursts that I've never been able to understand. There's been stress recently too - I've moved 40 miles away from home, I have started at a new university and I have had a flat-mate, a concept with which I am not familiar. The upshot is that university is great - in fact I have been extremely productive. Maybe a bit too productive, but that's how I tend to do it when I'm stressed, I throw myself into something else a bit too much, and then it inevitably goes tits up.

    The relationship started to dwindle when we moved here and now all I feel towards that is numb. I don't know if that's just because the relationship is probably over, or if because I often feel so sad and alone in this relationship that my mind has started to switch it off. It's never easy to know if your partner is genuinely as bad as you think they are, or if you just villify them because they are not perfect and your expectations of them are far greater than those of yourself. 

    So in light of all this, these 2 months I have spent in Manchester have been interesting and varied, to say the least. I was happy, am happy still, with the choice I made to come here. Everything is better here - the university, the study, the social life, just everything. I really miss my family but they're only a bus ride away. I crammed a lot in when we first moved here out of sheer desperation and panic that I would not meet any friends and I would be lonely when so far from home. Therefore, my social calendar started to really pile up. I've been so busy, too busy to even remember what I've been busy with. Part of my relapse prevention is to know when to slow down, and I haven't been taking heed of that recently. Or any of it, to be frank. I've since been discharged from the Early Intervention Service (my three years was up) with not so much as a diagnosis or referral elsewhere. It was a goodbye, so long, good luck, type affair, and to some extent I feel my safety net was snatched out from underneath me. I've since been in touch with a different doctor, and spoken to her about some of the symptoms I've been experiencing, because it is only now that I have reached the crash. I've been so hectic and chaotic and ... I can almost describe it as like an incandescent firework; a social animal, a rocket speeding through life with amazing energy and force with little regard to the destruction it leaves behind.

    And then the crash.I found myself over the past few days convincing myself that my friends are ignoring me because they don't like me, because I am so dislikable. I should stop eating, because I'm too fat and when people look at me they can see I have no control over what I eat. I should stop going out because I'll only get anxious and everyone will laugh at me. I should stop seeing my best friends because they don't love me at all and they can't be trusted. These thoughts I know are irrational, and so to have that insight is a blessing at least. It's been far worse than this. These are what my therapist would call "Late middle warning signs". I seem to be leaving it later and later in my list of red alerts before I seek help these days.

    Inevitably in such a grandiose and elated state I didn't notice the problems around me, or at least I did, but I ignored them, saying "I don't need this in my life!" and avoiding the issue. I always forget that when the crash comes, it does so with a cacophony of things you have been actively avoiding when you were so happy and up.

    The doctor I spoke to asked me if anyone has ever assessed me for bipolar disorder. "Bloody hell, that's a bit rich!" I thought, "Bipolar? Calm down love, there are no bipolar people in my family... okay, there's a lot of *instability* but I think we're a pretty strong bunch, no there's no bipolar here!" and then the doctor told me that was I was describing was hypomania / mania, and a typical crash into depression. Looking back onto this starting (I first sought the help of services when I was 17, with a couple of conversations here and there about thoughts and such with doctors as a child) and if there's one thing I could say was perhaps abnormal and inexplicable to me it is the outbursts of pure rage. They are terrifying, and monstrous, and I hate that part of me. My Mother, love her as much as I do, has explosive rage and I always swore that I'd never be like that, but I now wonder if she, like me, finds it uncontrollable and scary. It comes on in these bouts of depression, in the transition between the high and the low. I understand it that much. Besides that, all I know is that it is indeed explosive and it ruins my life. It's never aimed at anyone where it might get me into trouble - I would never have one of these rages at a lecturer, a friend, my flatmate... but it is normally aimed at whoever I am relying on at that time to keep things ticking over. When I lived with my Mum when I was 19 I remember kicking off at her for no reason, I remember standing on the backstreet of her house and telling her I hated living with her, and I remember screaming it at the top of my lungs like a petulant child. I was never one for tantrums when I was a kid, so why was I suddenly doing it as an adult?

    I have been the same with whoever I think is supposed to be taking care of me. For God's sake, I should be taking care of myself, I shouldn't be placing my life in other people's hands.

    So the assessments are coming this evening, with a kindly doctor and a view to understanding myself. It's the unpredictability of the ups and downs I don't like, and it's the faux ami of the ups that I resent. I know how I should be helped, and I know that I need to slow down, and I find myself telling myself to slow down, but that thought is immediately over-powered by a fake belief that I'm going to be fine and it's not a crime to be happy. It isn't, but it's artificial happiness, and it feels different to normal joy.

    So who knows. Maybe next week I'll get the letter with the big B word on it. I don't know what happens next, but a diagnosis would be nice. I appreciate that mental health professionals are now very reluctant to pigeon-hole people, but it's the unknowing I can't stand. How can I treat something if I don't know what it is? Where do I get my support?

    I'll keep you posted. Sorry for my absence, but I'll be back soon.

  • thanks for your comment about online councellers but at the moment im seeing my CPN every week ,my syciatrist [sorry i know thats spelt wrong] every 2 weeks,my gp in between and im waiting for a new sycoligist appointment as i turned down my last one.i know people will think i should be gratefull for all the help i have and i am its just when im on my own again it all starts up again.the syciatrist has just given me some medication for anxiety  but with the anti-depressents and the anti-sycotics i dont always know what helps.

    i didnt get to sleep until 4 this morning,i get the same dreams nearly every night the ones where you wake up just as you are about to die does anyone else do this?there not nightmares as some of them are comforting.im trying to get by on a day to day basis at the moment im sorry im not writing any thing possitive at the moment but ive found writing it down helps please comment i look about 4 times a day just in  case im also going to write on the wieght loss site thanks for reading take care everyone out there

  • Sometimes late at night...

    by Candycan on 27 October 2010

    Sometimes I have terrible nightmares.

    Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night feeling all freaked out but don't know why. It's important for me to try to calm myself before my stress levels rise too much when this happens. Sometimes, the voices in my head get really busy at night time. Last night when I got into bed I felt like the words were rushing round my head so fast I couldn't make them out. I tried for a minute to fathom who was saying what and then I decided to try to ignore it because I was so tired, I just needed a good sleep. I felt anxious.

    Sometimes, in the space between us getting into bed and me falling asleep I find myself feeling extremely scared and anxious. I can't pinpoint why. My body becomes super tense and jumpy and fidgetty. My feet jerk about and my breathing gets erratic and I scratch at myself uncontrollably (some of my parts suffer from dermatillomania). I switch to an anxious, scared child part. Sometimes I will wimper and snuggle up to my husband; he often realises it's Little C and will comfort us. He'll stroke my head and tell me everything is OK and there's nothing to be worried about. This often helps, sometimes it doesn't.

    If he's already asleep, I don't like to wake him. Sometimes this part will suck their thumb to comfort themselves. My husband doesn't like us doing this. Not surprisingly really although if he understood how it can soothe a scared child maybe he wouldn't mind so much.

    Anyway, I digress. Last night I tried to ignore the rushing and words. I fell asleep but woke again in the night with a really bad headache. I think that sometimes, if there are parts that are feeling very active, they can stay awake while I am sleeping. I don't think my body is doing very much except for probably shifting about in the bed and remaining in a tense state. But then, who knows? My husband doesn't talk of me getting up in the night, which makes me feel I'm probably not doing things unawares, but then he doesn't often mention the times when I know I have gotten up and gone downstairs, like last night.

    When I lived at home as a teenager, my mum would sometimes ask if I had been up in the night. She'd say she heard me pottering around in my room. I wondered if I was sleep walking. I often would have woken in the morning feeling as though I had just run a marathon. Now I wonder if it was an alter who was busy doing something in the night.

    I like to think that nowadays I am more aware of the alters when they take over. I tend to feel as though I'm still there, I'm looking out through my eyes, but someone else is in charge.

    For example, a few nights ago I got up in the night and went downstairs, I remember doing that, but I felt different, like it was Little C that was taking me down there. I was observing myself from within myself, if that makes any sense?

    Well, as a child might do, she opened the back door and stuck her head outside because she was curious about what it would be like at night in the garden. She looked up at the moon and stars and sniffed in the cold air and felt a bit excited. She shut the door again and started jumping about the kitchen, flinging her arms about in a childish way. I remember being a bit taken aback and pondering how ridiculous I would appear to anyone outside looking in. Then she went back upstairs and got into bed and I fell asleep.

    Sometimes I wake during the night as an alter. I might wake for just a few seconds and realise, this is this part or this is that part (as I am the observer I am usually aware although I have a feeling I'm not always observing). So I guess there is a lot going on when I'm sleeping.

    Does anyone else share my experiences?

  • struggling on with BPD

    by torchwood fan on 26 October 2010

    ive finally found out how to do my own blog.im 44 now and got my diagnosis about 3 months ago after going through 15 years of different labels.the more i look for people the same as me the more i feel alone..the feelings of loneliness and emptiness seem to take over my life and self harm is the only way to feel something the more i cut myself the less it helps,is there anyone who has any suggestions of any other ways i cant keep up with all the strange excuses why my arms look like they do.my weight has gone up and up all the medication they put me on dosent help even though i have a husband and family i feel alone and depressed is there anyone out there who has BPD AND CAN HELP ME?

  • Clinical psychology session

    by Candycan on 26 October 2010

    Recently one of my parts wrote my therapist (T) a letter asking for help, because they have not been able to directly speak in the sessions so far but wanted to express that they were there. Another part: an angry, scared part (I haven’t decided what pseudonym to give them on my blog yet) then tried to destroy the letter. It was salvaged by yet  another of my parts, a more mature, observant part (who we call ‘the observer’), who then wrote a cover letter to T, explaining a few things about the whole ‘parts’ situation and issues we are encountering in trying to trust T to help us.

     We were very nervous about how all of this would go down with T. We didn’t know if perhaps we would be rebuked for doing this. Growing up in an environment where any seemingly small or insignificant thing I did or didn’t do could have been the wrong thing and have scary consequences, makes me always worry I am doing something totally out of order without realising. There is also the fear of being accused of making this all up. And then there’s the fear of the person just not realising how significant a thing it was for me to give them the letter. But we got a good reaction. T said it was very courageous of us to give it to them.

    In the letter, the more mature part asked T to ask us about the pictures.

    So T asked me about the pictures at the next session (which I had been bringing along every week for months but hadn’t had confidence to mention in case T didn’t want to see them: that would be a huge blow for someone so fragile) and I showed them to her.

    The pictures were originally supposed to be a project which I decided to work on to try to get to know my parts, after first becoming aware of even having parts. I set myself a task of trying to express on paper, each alter that I am aware of. I allowed one page per alter and tried to use pictures/drawings/colours/shapes/words/anything else to visually represent that person.

    The child parts however LOVED this activity and I found them kind of taking over with it. The ‘one page per alter’ thing didn’t really work out as I found ‘little C’ making several pages of pictures, ranging from cut outs of magazine pictures to Christmas collages!

    Eventually the child parts worked on making two projects: one of ‘likes’ and the other of ‘dislikes’ or as they named it: ‘Things I don’t like and things that make me feel bad’. Some of the ‘dislike’ pictures are hard for me to look at. Some of the pictures, another child part had scribbled out. Some, although not scribbled out, a child part decided needed to be sealed off or covered for safety, so they stuck pieces of card over them to make flaps or envelopes to hide the pictures in. This felt safer somehow.

    So I sat there opposite T, while she looked under all the flaps and opened the envelope full of tiny pictures on bits of torn paper. She was talking through what she was seeing. Some of the pictures had captions too and she was reading them. I felt my angry child part getting very upset, wanting to scream at her to stop talking and stop looking at the pictures. Another part was feeling some other unpleasant emotions and my body was physically reacting.

    Me, the shell of everyone, sat there in silence, wishing I could disappear and wishing she would stop talking through what she was looking at. I think I was drifting in and out of the room as well. I could hear her in the background but I was trying not to: “I don’t like buttons.... maggots.... being asked to do things I don’t want to do.... this looks like a bathroom...” but I wasn’t really there anymore. I heard her say: “This tells a story” and something about it giving a lot of “information”.

    I woke in the middle of the night with everything buzzing round in my head. There was so much talking going on (there’s always talking going on but sometimes it gets louder and more disturbing or argumentative or tiresome). Someone was REALLY anxious. They remembered the words “tells a story” and “information” and they were shouting at me: “What did you tell her?! What have you done?! What information?! What was on the pictures?!”  

    I don’t think they were really looking for answers though on reflection. I think they were just panicking. We have lived our lives with the motto of: trust no one because everyone will let you down or hurt you. We learnt that lesson at a young age after crying out for help to adults who didn’t want to see what was going on so ignored the cries and looked the other way.

    Sometimes if there’s too much going on in my head, I get a pen and paper and write down the narrative as it goes on. This helps people to get their say; it helps me to know what is going on, but it can be a really bad thing too. Sometimes when given a means of expressing that is not usually available, things start to come out that can be very disturbing to see on paper. If you’re interested perhaps I could put some of the narrative into this blog, if that’s something you’d like to read? I know I’ve tried Googling to see if anyone else has tried blogging their internal conversations but I haven’t been able to find any. I will need to think more about if this is definitely OK to do but if you would like to read it let me know (often it’s not pretty though. Does this blog have rules about language or content?)

    Anyway, that’s enough for now, I’m sure your eyes will be tired, if not your brain after reading all of that!

  • Super-long absence: Sorry.

    by GaryP on 25 October 2010

    Hey guys/girls/anyone reading,

    I haven't posted in such a long time that it could be counted as ludicrous and somewhat disgusting. I tried to post the other day - after some serious consideration, I decided that it would've been much better for me to not post at all; odd and illogical, yes, but that pretty much sums me up.

    As of Friday 15th, my fantastic psychiatrist (no, really, she's great) is treating me on the basis that I am, officially, no longer depressed. Wonderful, right? No, wrong. Most people reading currently will be nothing short of surprised and bemused to hear such a declaration; recovering from something such as depression would be fantastic. Yes, yes it would.

    Let's start again with a new introduction:

    Hi, my name is Gary. I'm 17 and I've had more mental health experiences than that of an "average" teenager. Since I was 14, I was being treated upon the basis that I had depression. To date, I've been on three anti-depressants which I've not responded to ~ now, I'm being treated on the basis that I am, wait for it... BIPOLAR! Yes, that's right. This messed up little adolescent is a possible new recruit to the ever growing bipolar army; type 2, to be precise: not as severe as type 1, thankfully, but still with me for life nonetheless.

    Right now I'm fighting myself to post this blog. In all fairness I'm terrified. Terrified to accept it, terrified people will reject me, terrified of it.

    There have, of course, been darker aspects of my life previously written within prior blogs. I'd prefer not to list everything within a singular blog post such as this purely because opening myself up too much is terrifying.

    Okay, I think that's all I'm going to post for now. Sorry if I don't reply for a while - I'll try to get back soon. This whole concept is still very, very scary. I apologise to the individuals whom are suffering much more than me. In comparison, it's rather pathetic that I should be anxious about it at all, in the slightest. You have my respect, you truly do.

    Sorry once more.

    Until next time...

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