Hey folks, bet some of you were wondering what happened to me on Wednesday seeing as I didn’t check-in. Especially as I am normally so conscientious about ensuring I do, even if I have nothing to report. Well here I am to explain the missing update…
*Warning this is a very, very long, very personal post. Please bear with me, if you want to know me at all or understand BPD in anyway – you MUST read all of this, skimming will just confuse you!*
So for starters my BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) crisis period was growing in intensity. Anyway, since last Sunday’s check-in I was again struggling to focus and ‘do’ anything – even writing was eluding me; and that really is bad because normally at the very least I am still able to do that.
I went to my therapy session on the morning and it was tough. We were talking about my relationship and I was trying to explain a decision I have come to, but because both my therapist and I know that I am currently in crisis and experiencing ‘splitting’ (read about splitting here) behaviour in regard to my partner this seemed to her that I was not in a place to make rational decisions.
However, the reason I have ended up in this ‘place’ is BECAUSE I have been tormenting myself over this situation for some time. It is like there are two different parts of me at war with each other. One part loves my fiance and want’s to be with him forever, but the other part considers him to be a huge trigger for BPD behaviours and doesn’t like him at all. Imagine trying to reconcile that!?
So, after therapy I came home and he tried to talk to me about my session and I was vague about it. I tried to do things to take my mind off it but became more and more agitated with myself, fidgety, stressed. I had two bottles of WKD and realised this was bad, drinking at 2pm on a Monday can only be bad.
I needed to run.
At first I tried to fight it as with my physical ailments I had to give up exercise over a year ago, my legs just couldn’t take it any more. Going for a run was not a good idea physically.
But, I just couldn’t settle. I pulled on my gym wear and set up my iPod and ran.
I ran (as best I could) for a good half an hour and contacted my best mate as I ran, to tell her I was in a state.
I met up with her and we went to the pub to unwind. Despite the mood I was in somehow I managed to make it through the afternoon, evening and into the night at the pub without getting totally wasted – I was proud of myself.
I didn’t get much sleep though as I was then up most of the night talking with the other half about what I was thinking, feeling and the very difficult decision I had made…
Another day I was unable to do anything, I sat and cried.
I wanted to die…
I just didn’t want to be me anymore. I felt that I was trapped with no means of escape – from myself.
I got in the car, ended up at the pub again. Another afternoon in the pub.
This time was different, I wasn’t my usual cheery, bubbly self that everyone sees there, I was a mess.
I snuck in and curled up in the corner crying.
The landlady came over straight away and held me until I was able to speak. I told her about the night before, the decision I had made and the trouble I was having with my decision due to the warring internal selves. She made me a cup of tea and other regulars came over to comfort me and just ‘be’ there.
I calmed down, went to take my kids to their dental appointment and collect my best friend who had now finished work.
Back home I cooked toad in the hole, the first meal I had prepared in many days. After eating it we went back to the pub.
I was much more my usual (that the people at the pub see at least) self.
Somehow I allowed myself to get roped into rehearsals – a group of the staff and regulars are putting together a musical production.
I spent the evening running back and forth from the bar playing pool with my best mate and the rehearsals, where I had to sing.
I love singing, I’m good at singing, what I’m not good at is singing in front of people – despite appearances I have zero confidence.
At one point I went outside to have a cigarette and delayed getting one out as I was waiting for a mate to join me who was rolling her own. While waiting I was chatting with a regular and his Scottish pal who I had never seen before. The regular was standing there rolling a cigarette for himself and his mate. He handed one to his mate just as my friend came round the corner to join me. The Scottish guy then offered me the roll-up I presume having noticed I was standing there without a smoke. I accepted it not thinking anything of it a proceeded to smoke it. While the four of us were stood there smoking my friend said “I can smell something that doesn’t smell like normal fags” I said that I couldn’t smell anything because I couldn’t, and the guys said the same. I thought no more of it. And ended up staying there a while after finishing the rollup having another fag (my own) and chatting with the guys, my friend had gone back inside by this point.
When I finally went back inside I went back to rehearsals, then back to the bar. Then gradually began to feel strange, like I had been drinking – only i wasn’t drinking. I was only drinking Pepsi because I had bought my car and was driving home – I won’t even touch a single alcoholic drink if I am driving.
The night became more and more blurred and confusing for me, I was paranoid, and loosing time. I tried talking to the guys about it and the laughed it off that I was drinking and I explained about the pepsi and car – still they didn’t get it. I asked them straight if there was anything in the rollup I had smoked and they wouldn’t confirm.
Eventually I told the friend that had been outside that I thought I had smoked a spliff by mistake and she kept an eye on me because I was really struggling.
At some point I managed to gain confirmation from the guys that it had been a spliff, but with that confirmation came a declaration ‘You smoked it Sharon, you smoked it’ (as if this somehow absolves them of all responsibility)but, I explained, I didn’t know it was a spliff – or I wouldn’t have smoked it!
Later I eventually told my best mate that I was feeling funny and wouldn’t be driving us home. I didn’t mention the spliff because I was worried about her reaction, especially as it had originated from this guy who she really hates, but I really like – she would kick his head in!
In my mind I spent most of the night hanging off this guys every word, pouring all over him like a lovesick puppy. At the end of the night I was in the taxi room with him and he was telling me to go home when the friend who knew about the spliff came in. She made sure I got home, taking me in the taxi with her.
Back home the other half was waiting up for me and the state I was in worried him so he was texting my best mate asking her what had happened – only she didn’t really know anything other than what I had told her because I had been in and out like a yoyo between the bar where she was and rehearsal’s in the back room.
I couldn’t sleep for hours and hours, eventually fitfully napping and waking. Having a row with the other half. Getting the munchies and eating several chocolate bars and packets of crisps, yet I couldn’t taste anything.
I spent most of the day recovering, sleeping, eating and more sleeping and eating. I had to put my therapy session back to Thursday morning as I couldn’t make it and I missed my interview on the afternoon because I was asleep.
I never wanted to leave the house again I wanted to curl up and die.
I thought I had made a complete fool of myself the night before.
Messages poured in over facebook – all telling me I had been fine; it really was paranoia. No-one had noticed me acting strange at all in any way, especially not being all over this guy the way I thought I was. They admitted they thought I had had a few drinks, but as that was ‘normal’ for me they didn’t think anything of it and were surprised to realise I had only drank pepsi all night.
I decided I needed to go back to the pub to find out more about what they did recall and tell the what really happened as I recalled it.
Not surprisingly they were not happy with this guy, for smoking spliffs on the pub grounds, and for giving me one without me knowing what it was.
Another guy who regularly uses marijuana for recreation explained how it could be the I didn’t smell or taste the drug in the rollup as a lot of people had been saying ‘but you must have known, you would smell it or taste it’ and I really hadn’t noticed anything – according to this guy yes it was possible that the specific subtype was one that I didn’t notice the smell of, but clearly my friend had a keener sense of smell than me as she had said she smelt something.
Then the other half turned up at the pub. I lost it, I thought he had turned up to cause trouble and given our situation at home and that everyone in the pub knew our situation him being there made me feel like shit.
I stormed out and went for a drive (again I wasn’t drinking); then I came back, handed my car keys to the landlady and started downing sambucas.
I got pissed to the eyeballs, I only ever seem to do this when I am completely distraught and given how bad things had been lately on the whole I had been proud of myself for NOT getting in this state all the time!
On the whole, really, genuinely I am not much of a drinker. I prefer to enjoy my night without reaching the point where I struggle to stand up. This was not one of those nights…
At the end of the night my best mate and the other half had to manhandle me into his car while I was being sick and throwing a hissy-fit. When they got me home I continued to be a huge mess.
Eventually I ended up n bed somehow and got the minimal amount of sleep.
I squeezed into some clothes and the other half drove me to my therapy session where all I talked about was the events of Tuesday night and last night. I left feeling I didn’t want to go back again. It all seems so pointless.
Another day spent lay in bed doing nothing.
On the evening I cooked dinner then sat down and explained to my kids what was happening.
Basically in order for me to get better (if that is even possible) I need some space, I need to find out who ‘I’ am, I need to be comfortable in my own skin, with myself before I can ever hope to be comfortable with anyone else. As a result, I am leaving my fiance. I just need to find a place for me and the kids to move into. I had already started looking.
I stayed in and had an early night.
I got up and decided to try to start getting back on track, having a ‘plan of action’ of sorts now in place – or my ‘escape plan’ as the other half (I need to stop calling him that!) calls it, I need to try to get on with things.
I wrote a blog post and shard it, thanking all my followers. Unfortunately I wasn’t really able to do much more, my focus was still way out.
I arranged to view a house for the late afternoon, and together with the other half – who is supporting me through this as he realises this is about ‘me’ not about him (even though the BPD splitting would have everyone believe otherwise – painting him as the demon as it does) and my best mate we went to view the property.
It was perfect, well not perfect, but ideal for what I need, 3 bedrooms for me and the kids and enough space without being too much, a good location and a good rental price that I can manage, even while out of work at the moment.
We went straight back to the agency after the viewing to sort out the paperwork. Now it is just a waiting game to see if it all goes through okay. If it does I will move in before the end of February.
After sitting down to dinner with the kids I felt really uncomfortable just being in the house. So yet again I went to the pub, yet again in the car, yet again not drinking.
It ended up being my turn to keep an eye on my best mate as she got progressively more drunk. It was -7 outside when we were heading home and I was turning into ice myself as I struggled to get her to move and come to the car – which I needed to defrost and de-ice with already numb fingers. Thankfully I had a helping hand from a couple of the bar staff who managed to walk her down to the car with me and finally got her in and home, then I could get home myself and try to get warm and get some sleep.
I woke up feeling the most stable I have felt for at least a week.
I am still struggling with my decision to leave, but I know that it is for the best. The route I was (am) going down would only lead to worse and worse things with my behaviour as the BPD has been gaining more and more control over me and my actions. To stay would risk hurting my partner in the most horrible ways, better to go now while we can do it amicably than to make him hate me. He loves me and understands I am so ill I am in a place where being close to me is not good for anyone.
I don’t want to hurt him, and although leaving is hurting him it is far less hurt than would come if I stay. He said, what I am doing is actually very noble. I said, no you just deserve better.
I am ill, BPD cannot be cured. It may be managed with time and treatment. But right now I have neither of these things. I don’t want anyone to get too close to me because I don’t want to hurt people, but I can’t trust myself not to do things that you shouldn’t do when you are in a relationship. I don’t feel deserving of love, because while there is that very kind, loving part of me there is also (especially at the moment) another part of me that is not so nice.
… Nice Sharon has left the building not that you would know it as ‘she’ the other one (well one of them) has had a firm hold on the mask making it appear like everything is fine – but that mask if finally slipping. There is a battle going on that can only lead to some not very nice experiences. This bad one doesn’t want me to let it out, learn from it, share it. She is on the defence, selfish and egotistical wanting to ensure that she protects herself (us) from the things which might occur if the truth be known about how evil she really is…
But amazingly somehow good Sharon has found some strength to break out and refuse to let this happen – the result is still bad for all involved – I’m leaving, I’m hurting my partner; but I hold solace in the fact that the way I see it by doing this now I am saving us all from suffering far worse in days, weeks or months down the line if ‘Bad Sharon’ continues to control what happens. Just because Good Sharon was able to do this does not mean she can maintain control – bad Sharon is only ever a heartbeat away.
So I will continue my weekend trying to write and be as peaceful as I can. I am NOT going to the pub again this weekend (bad sharon can screw all she likes!)
I am staying home and writing, and gonna watch a movie this evening and get some good nights sleep. Then on Monday I am off for a Spa Day with my best mate which I think will do us both the world of good!
Let’s see how long I can hold it together for this time…
- ROW80 2012 – Read something else, there’s nothing here of interest (showard76.wordpress.com)
- Impulsivity and Borderline Personality Disorder (showard76.wordpress.com)
- If Life is a Rollercoaster then BPD is a Pinball Machine! (showard76.wordpress.com)
- Anger and Borderline Personality Disorder (showard76.wordpress.com)
- Do Borderlines lack Empathy? (showard76.wordpress.com)
- ROW80 Check-in – The self-pity post… (showard76.wordpress.com)
- Splitting – Unstable Relationships in Borderline Personality Disorder (showard76.wordpress.com)
- Clearview Offers NEA-BPD’s Family Connections Course (prweb.com)