I wish, I wish, I wish...

Well today's the day I have to phone my therapist to establish whether I'm seeing her this afternoon or not. She said that provided I feel safe enough, I can come to our session. But the trouble is I don't want to see her. I'm feeling so angry with her for turning me away last week when I really needed her. But she says she's not there for crisis intervention, and that the deeper trauma therapy work we do together is impossible to do when I'm in crisis - because I crumble.

I wish I wasn't so angry with her. Some good friends of mine think it's important that I attend today's session to work through the anger. That could be a really valuable lesson in learning to deal with anger in a healthy way, they say. But I still don't want to. I'd rather self-harm. But I've made a commitment to myself not to do that anymore - sometimes I lose sight of that goal, but mostly it remains strong within me.

I'm just so mad at her. I want to quit therapy with her. But I don't think I can live without her. So I'm really stuck. The more I think about it rationally, the more I think I need to sort my anger out with her. But I'm worried for my safety if I leave the hospital to go and see her, because it could become dangerous for me if I become upset, and want to hurt myself. Maybe I should talk to her over the phone instead? I don't know. I'll work it out.

Well, the good news is that I'm over that man I had a huge crush on! I still think he's hot, but the desire to do something with that has ceased, and I no longer feel impulsive. I don't know why that changed, but it has - and I'm glad. Because I don't need to get in anymore trouble with the hospital than I already am for attempting to escape last week.

I feel like I'm always wishing these days. I wish, I wish, I wish... For a better life; for getting my dad back; for trusting my therapist again; for getting a job; for being happy. I want to be high again like I was over the weekend. I wish for peace and serenity...

A Taste Of Freedom...

I asked the nurses yesterday if they could phone my psychiatrist and ask him if I could be made a Category One so that I could leave the hospital. I've been feeling so trapped being stuck in here. I just needed a real coffee, I told them. But really I wanted to go shopping too - which is a danger for me. I can't seem to help impulse spending - it happens whether I'm high or low. I can always shop. Anyway they said no.

Crap.

But one of my favourite nurses said she'd take me to a coffee shop in the afternoon! It was really fun. I tried to convince her that we should go shopping, but she said that she valued her job too much.

Anyway, I still had a great time.

I'm excited about today though, because I've been granted extended day leave on the condition that the nurses see mum picking me up and dropping me back. Mum and I are going to Dog Day By The Bay - a festival for dogs and their owners on the Northern Beaches! I get to take my little dog, and mum will take her bigger dog, and it's going to be so good!! Just to get away from the hospital for an entire day, will be so good. I can't wait till 11am for mum to get here! It seems so far away...

Bipolar??

I talked to my psychiatrist yesterday. He thinks I might have Bipolar Disorder as well as BPD! Great. Another thing to add to my list. But it's not certain yet. He's not sure. He got me to fill out a self-assessment for Bipolar, and I scored reasonably high. So now he wants to change my medication to a Bipolar medication to see if it helps stabilize me. So last night was my first reduction from one of my Anti-Depressants. I now have no meds to take at night time!

Sorry, I'm a bit up this morning. I like it when I'm like this. Everything's so clear and fun! I feel like I can control my urge to self-harm today - which is good. I approached the nurses just now and asked them if they could call my psychiatrist to see if he could make me a Category One - so I can leave the hospital and go shopping!! I know I'll be safe - I won't buy razors today. And then tomorrow I'm hopefully going to a dog festival on the Northern Beaches! I so hope I'm allowed to go. It would be so wonderful to take my gorgeous dog to it for the day and spoil him!

I know I'm avoiding some painful emotions today by being high, but really I don't care. I can't bring myself down right now to face them. And why should I? I've spent a lot of this past week feeling miserable - like really feeling it. So I think I should be allowed some time off today.

I Could Really Use A Wish Right Now...

I could really use a wish right now...

My mother asked me yesterday whether I miss my dad. And it hurt, because I do... so much. I mean I hate the bastard for sexually abusing me for years as a child. But there's no one in the world I adore more than my father. He was the perfect dad - except for one major stuff up that has altered my life forever. Who knows who I would be right now if he hadn't done that to me. I might not have BPD, or any mental illnesses. I might be a famous singer/songwriter, or journalist by now. I might be living a life truly worth living.

But then I think about how I'm learning so much because of those experiences as a child. I'm learning about me, and human nature. I'm empathic now, because I know what it's like to be standing on the edge, wondering if you're going to jump.

Mum asked if I wanted to see him. I hesitated. Of course I want to see him. He's my dad. I love him. I miss him. But I also hate him, and that needs to be considered as part of the equation. What good would come of me seeing him right now? Up until recently, I've been doing so much better not having him in my life. But that's sad. So sad.

"You know he'd be down to visit you in a heartbeat if you wanted him to." Mum... She doesn't get it. I shook my head slowly. No. That would not be wise. Not when I'm feeling like this. Not when yesterday morning I escaped from hospital to buy the razors I could kill myself with. Not a good idea at the moment.

But I could really use a wish right now. I wish my dad would get help. I wish he was in therapy for what he did to me. I wish that he could change - that I could trust him again like I once used to. I want my dad back. That's my wish...

Drugged Out Of Mischief...

I feel so drugged all of the time - like really out of it. My body's just not used to this much Seroquel and Valium. I can't think straight. I know I'm still wanting to escape from hospital to buy razors, but I also know that that's not the best idea I've ever come up with. So I'm complying with the medication increases, because it's the only way I can stay safe right now. As I've said before - I know my limits. And I've reached them. If I'm not fully medicated right now, then I will act out. And I shouldn't want that. My future self wouldn't want that.

When I'm this drugged out, I don't have the energy to try and escape. It's all too much effort. Everything's too much effort. So all I can manage is to climb the stairs to go for a smoke - sometimes I can't even manage that and have to catch the lift. As a result I'm smoking more than usual, but that always happens for me in hospital. There's just not much else to do. And it's a social thing. My friend who's in here is also a smoker, and I've made some friends with other smokers since coming in here - including the hot man! So smoking is more fun than usual - well actually I wouldn't say I'm having fun. It's more that it generates less boredom really.

Anyway, being on this much PRN also means that I'm not doing as much - so there's not a great deal for me to write about this morning. Apart from those precious few delicious moments of freedom yesterday, I haven't done anything of note. Which is probably a good thing - because anything of note right now would probably not be a positive step forward. Sorry if I'm depressing anyone, it's just where my head's at, even this early in the morning - which isn't such a great sign, because I'm usually always more up-beat in the mornings, and as the day progresses I become more and more depressed, usually.

Well, today's shower day. Let's hope that I can manage that (I have a problem with showering everyday - something to do with being vulnerable without clothes on I think). Hopefully I'll feel a bit better after a refreshing splash of warm water. And let's hope I've got more to write about later!

Escape...

I ran away from the hospital today. I'm on Category Three - which means no leaving the hospital without a staff member present. But I had a Grand suicide plan - and I had to act on it then and there. Sad I know. But that's just how my day's turned out. Sometimes I still revert back to my old coping mechanisms to survive. The tougher life gets, the more prone I become to acting out - at the moment that is. I think overall I'm getting stronger. But not today. That's okay, I'll just accept that that's where I'm at at the moment.

Anyway, I snuck out through the adjoining building so I didn't have to go past the nurses station or the office ladies. I thought I was being so clever. But then, just as I reached the footpath, I turned around to look back at the building, while I waited for some passers-by to move on. And who should be staring back at me from one of the hospital windows?? One of the psychologists here.

I freaked.

Nothing could stop me though, as I was in that beautiful state of having made my mind up to die, and the peace that comes with that decision. So I turned and bolted - power-walked. I don't do running. I was almost at the end of the lane way, when I heard my name being shouted from behind me. I hoped I'd made it up, but as I turned my head to see, I saw my favorite nurse running after me.

Shit.
I turned back again as I stopped walking. What should I do? I could start running, but she is by far the fitter of the two of us, and would undoubtedly catch up with me. So I stopped, and stood there stupidly for a few moments, as she came closer and closer. Then I felt guilt that I was making her walk all the way up the lane way. So I trudged slowly towards her to meet my fate.

"Jaya, where are you going? You know you're on a Cat Three don't you?" Like the moron I sometimes believe I am, I said yes. I could of at least feigned ignorance. But I'm too honest for my own good sometimes. She kept asking me where I was going and what I was doing. But I couldn't bring myself to tell her, as I was sure they would schedule or discharge me if I did that - preferably the latter, but there was no guarantee of that. I let her walk me back to the hospital grounds.

A meeting was held with her, my psychiatrist, and another male nurse. And it went on and on. I was so nervous I started to get the shakes. I lay in my bed, I went for a smoke, I talked with the hot guy I've got my eye on, I had another smoke, and they still weren't out of the meeting. Then I found my friend who's also staying in here at the moment, and sat and chat with her. Finally, I was told they weren't sending me away - to anywhere. I was staying put. But I was NEVER to do that again. I didn't tell them that I thought I was going to do it again; that I didn't know how to not do it again, because I've made my mind up now. I'm like a time bomb, waiting...

Anyway, I'm on a lot of Seroquel now, and am too out of it to write anymore. But I think it's important to end on this note; I obviously wasn't meant to die this morning. I'm hoping I can find the courage to keep myself alive. I've been here before - in this head space. And I pulled myself out of it before. I can do it again.

Messy

 So... yesterday turned a bit messy on me. It was fine up until I called my therapist in the evening. I'd even spent three hours chatting with that man! I'd had a goodish afternoon. But then I sat in my hospital room by myself, and realised that I still felt like self-harming quite badly. Well my therapist had told me to call her if I felt this way and we could postpone our session for Thursday (my today - seemingly everybody else's tomorrow). So I phoned her to see what she'd think of me still attending. Well, she didn't think much of it. She told me that she wasn't there for crisis intervention - which I think sucks because when I first started seeing her she said she'd never turn me away for wanting to self-harm. But this is different apparently, because I'm in hospital.

I told her I needed her advice on something, to which she said "Jaya, you should know by now that I don't give out advice." I said "Fine." She said "I'll see you next Monday, unless I hear otherwise from you that you're still in crisis."

Whatever.

I tried to tell myself I didn't care. But the trouble is that I do. And so I started bawling my eyes out - which is so not me. I never cry. Well, okay, sometimes I cry. But this was like really sobbing. You see I'm just so alone right now. Everybody I've ever cared about has left me at some stage. They may have come back now that I'm supposedly getting better, but all of them have abandoned me at some point. They've all said they needed time to heal. Heal from what? From me?? Am I really that draining??? Well, the most recent person to do this is my mother. I honestly never saw that one coming. And so I cried for all these losses in my life. And for the fact that I was still around to cry about it, and not already off floating somewhere in a better place with my dead dog Benji.

Well then a nurse came in. She tried to get me up for dinner, but I just kept crying. Eventually she went and got me dinner. But I so couldn't eat it. Then my psychiatrist knocked on my door, and asked me to come up to his office.

Great. Just perfect.

So I sat up there telling him all my woes and sobbing my heart out in front of him. So embarrassing. I hate it when people cry, especially when it's me crying. Like Benji, who never had any patience for my tears, I find my tears just frustrate me. My psychiatrist told me that my therapist had phoned him because she was worried about me. That was wierd. Maybe she does care a bit? Maybe...

Anyway, then my psychiatrist went and spoke to the nurses, and next thing they were filling me up with the anti-psychotic, mood stabilizer Seroquel - which I haven't had in like a year - and saying I was back on Category Three - so no leaving the hospital without a staff member present.

Even more perfect. Life just keeps getting better.

Anyway, it's still a bit early to see how I'm feeling this morning. I can't really tell what's going on behind those puffy eyes just yet. Hopefully I'm feeling better, but I'm not totally convinced of that. I think rather that it's going to be another difficult day. But who knows - I could be wrong about that. I hope I'm wrong. I know I should be using skills right now, but when I feel like this, I really can't be stuffed. Well, I'll make a commitment to myself that I will at least pull my DBT folder out and look through it today. That's a start in the direction I'd rather be going. Here's hoping for a better day than yesterday!

What IS This Feeling??

You find love in the most unlikely places sometimes. Not that I’d say I’m in love. No, but I would say I’m developing a crush on someone. And yes, because I’m so impulsive, the crush is building at a rapid pace. And, what’s most surprising of all… this mystical person is a man! I can’t believe it. A man? (I'm gay by the way - I like WOMEN!) And boy is he a man. He’s very masculine, with a toned, muscular body, and the most exquisite, piercing blue eyes. My friend says he’s “gritty!” And I can see what she means. But I’d rather think of him as ‘rough,’ in a gentle way – if that’s possible. Well somehow it is possible, because that’s how he is.

Anyway, I really want him to like me, but I don’t know how to go about getting him to. I mean how do you approach someone in here about this sort of thing? The things he’s said to me indicate that he’s single, and there’s no ring on his finger – I checked. My friend said to me “I don’t know why I’m saying this” (she doesn’t approve of me liking this man!) “but I think he fancies you too.” And then we both giggled like school girls.

I know what my psychiatrist would say, “Jaya, you know you are not allowed to develop intimate relationships with other patients in hospital. It isn’t a good idea to bond too closely with other patients, as they can be very unwell.” But I don’t care, that wouldn’t stop me. One of my friends had sex with another patient when she was in hospital – more than once too! They got away with it. I’m sure this gorgeous man and I could get away with it too.

I would love to sleep with him; for him to wrap those big, muscly arms around me. Hell, he could do anything he liked to me and I’d let him. How did I get to feel like this so suddenly? I mean I’ve had my eye on him since I came in here last week, but now my imagination has gotten the better of me, to the point where I honestly don’t think I’d have the willpower to say no to him. I don’t want to say no to him. I want him to want me like I want him. Maybe he does? But I doubt it. I can’t quite believe that someone as delicious as him could ever want someone like me.

And I know what my therapist would say too; “Jaya, why do you think these emotions have come up so intensely right now? What’s going on behind them that you’re attempting to avoid by this nice distraction?” Well… I think I’d rather just keep avoiding thank you very much. They’ll be time for feeling later. Right now it just feels too good to have this wonderful distraction!

A Difficult Day

 Yesterday was a pretty rough day. I wanted so badly to cut myself. I didn't care whether or not it killed me - in fact I think I thought it would be better if I did die. But it was hard work keeping myself from acting on these urges. I had to keep telling myself that I didn't want anymore scars on my arms or legs, and that there had been times - even recently - when I have been grateful to be alive.

So rather than grab my wallet and take a some what casual stroll down to buy razors from the local shops, I instead dragged myself up to the nurses station and reluctantly confessed my deepest desires. They in turn called my psychiatrist, and put me back to a Category Three - no leaving the hospital without a staff member, and regular half-hour checks to see where and what I'm doing.

And then I felt truly miserable. I had willingly handed over my power to go and do the one thing that I knew would bring me peace. But I tried to counteract this. I thought to myself that actually that had taken courage, and that I should be proud of myself for acting in my own best interests by not making a bad situation any worse. That unfortunately didn't dilute the urges at all, but at least I tried.

By the early evening I just couldn't take anymore of the urges, and so I reached another decision making moment. Either I sneak out of the hospital grounds to secretly buy razors, or I go back to the nurses and request Valium. I've been trying not to take the stuff, because although I love the affect Valium has on me, I want to be able to cope on my own, without medication to zone me out. I need to learn how to manage these urges without meds. But even I know my limits, and I had reached them. So I took ten milligrams of Valium, and it completely knocked me out - which is strange, because that's my usual dose, and it's never had that affect on me before. I usually just become mellow. This time, the world was moving around me, and keeping my eyes open was causing them to sting. It was an odd experience.

Today I feel good that I managed to protect myself from myself yesterday. However, I still don't feel great. I had more nightmares last night, so I didn't sleep very well. At 4am I decided I'd had enough of the nightmares, and so got up for a smoke - and I've been up ever since. I can't bring myself to go back to bed with those nightmares still lurking in the depths of my mind.

Hopefully today will be a better day for me. You never know, it might just be!

Emotional Whirlpool!

 I think I am a victim of transference with my therapist - on my part, not hers! I've hopelessly fallen for her, and catch myself thinking of her far too often. She says this isn't a bad thing, but rather that we need to look at why these feelings are coming up for me. Neither of my parents had good boundaries when I was growing up. And now, as a consequence, I do not have good boundaries. They're getting better the more work I do on them, but when it comes to my therapist, my boundaries are all over the place. Sometimes I want her to just hug me. Other times I want her to tell me all about herself. But the worst is when I wish she would just lean over and kiss me, and we could start making out. Obviously I'm living in a dream world. Because she has good boundaries at least, and would never cross those lines. Sometimes I still hate boundaries!

The emotions that come up for me when I'm with her, or when I think about her, are so overwhelmingly complex. I completely adore her; I'm infatuated with her; I'd even go so far as to say I'm in love with her; but then at times I get so angry with her, because she can't cross boundaries to meet my emotional demands; I idolize her, adamantly believing that she's perfect in every way. I mean really, what am I supposed to do with all of this? She just encourages me to talk about it, to notice when these feelings arise in sessions. And I finally feel safe now that she can deal with them, and that my emotions won't damage her in any way.

I'm embarrassed to publish this post, but I'm going to anyway. Because I have heard from trustworthy sources that those suffering from BPD are prone to place their therapists on a pedestal, and then suddenly hate them for it. So therefor, I feel it's important to talk about this sort of stuff, in case there's anyone out there who's wondering at their own bombardment of emotional turmoil with others. I've heard this emotional pattern is common in most relationships of people living with BPD. That's not the case for me - this is the first time it's happened. But then, I've never let anyone else in as close as my therapist. She's the only person in the world I'd ever fully trust.

And with this trust comes fear. I fear I'll lose her somehow; that she'll become pregnant and leave me for her child, that she'll change professions or move away, or the worst case scenario is that she dies. I just wouldn't be able to cope, and these thoughts scare me. I almost wish I'd never let her in so close. I don't even know how she did manage to get to me so much. But then at the same time, it feels amazingly wonderful to have someone know me that well. So I can only imagine how good it would feel if that person wasn't just someone who was paid to be there, and who actually loved me in return. It's got me pondering as to whether it might actually be worth taking a few more risks and letting some more people in. I wonder how that would feel? But at the moment one's enough. I'll wait till I have some more boundaries in place before I try to expand my emotional horizons!