Friday, December 02, 2016

Once

Once there was a little girl. She was optimistic. She had hopes and dreams. She thought she was a good person. She believed other people were good as well.

Just three years ago this girl had everything she ever wanted in life. She didn't realize how lucky she was. She was tormented by her mental illness and lived every perfect day in pain she couldn't figure out how to get rid of.

Because of this mental illness this girl no longer exists. She is a woman. She is 32 and a single mom of four.  She lived through hell as a child and now faces hell as an adult.

Every morning when she opens her eyes she wishes she was dead. She is pessimistic. She doesn't believe she is a good person. She doesn't believe anyone will ever love her unconditionally. She lives with such unbearable pain that suicide is on her mind constantly. She doesn't want to hurt anyone else in her life she just doesn't want to be in pain anymore. 

Monday, November 28, 2016

alone

I had a break down yesterday. It was my own fault. It involves drama with me sending a drunken text to my ex boyfriend of 6 months. Should not have done that. I have erased his contact info so I wont do that anymore. His friend said I was DEAD to him. That really hurt. It must be true though.

I broke up with him. We were bad for each other and he was abusive. But he was my best friend for 18 months. And a rebound after an 8 year marriage ended. Its been so so hard to lose my person. He completely cut me off - which I suspect was really healthy for both of us. Its just undeniably hard for me.

So now I've been single for 6 months. The longest since I was 13. This might be healthy for me too. I just don't know how to deal with life without a person. When I went to a new therapist today they asked me for an emergency contact. I had no one to put down. My family all live states away. My best friend lives states away. My ex husband has said he doesn't want me asking for his help any longer.

I am completely and utterly alone. All alone. No one to tell the funny shit I see everyday. No one to watch stuff with. No one to talk about the universe with. Just me.

And it sucks. It sucks giant donkey balls.

I even reached out on facebook for support. Of course I got "I love yous" and "don't feel sads." The only people actually willing to step up and help me also want to date me and I am not sure I am ready for that right now. I just cannot open myself up to anyone I don't feel "sparks" with. I know that might be kinda mean but its true. I want "sparks." It seems like its a lot to ask now that I am 32. 

Wednesday, September 02, 2015

What is living with borderline personality disorder like?

That is a very good question.

Well for me,

 Sometimes it is screaming and crying and hating everyone and everything. Sometimes it is being lost in a sea of dementors that no one can see but me. Sometimes it means telling my whole life story to complete strangers to force intimacy upon them hoping they will become friends. Sometimes it means hiding in a small space and crying because I feel I have no one and no where in the world to belong. Sometimes it means not knowing who I am. Sometimes it means running from everyone and everything because I can't take anything. Sometimes it is staying up all night and starting to smoke at the age of 31 because why the hell not? Sometimes it is missing my old life because it was so much better. Sometimes it means there feels like there will never be a future for me. Sometimes it means giving up my goals and plans.

Sometimes it means hyper unreasonable happiness. Sometimes it means being weird and doing things no one understands. Sometimes it means kicking ass at school. Sometimes it means being super mom and doing so many things at once that other people don't understand how I do it. Sometimes its being so up that no one and nothing can bring me down. Sometimes it means loving everyone and everything that ever existed ever.

Sometimes it means having a good day but say one little negative thing to me and it brings my world crashing down and everything is black again. Lately, it means not talking to my friends because I am trying to heal and I don't know how. Sometimes it means trying another godamn therapist after therapist and still not getting any better.


Living with borderline means so many things, I can't keep them all in my head at once. Sometimes I feel crazy and I hate it. 

Monday, August 24, 2015

Well, its been a year now

It has been a year now since my husband ended our relationship. I am so completely different and so completely changed. And yet I am me. I am still me. I no longer vlog or blog or feel the need to share my everyday with the internet. I miss it though. The sharing of my self.

I am still deeply hurt by his absence. By how I am almost nothing to him. He promised me the day that he ended it that we would always be friends. We are not friends. We are civil. We get along. But I cannot say that we are or ever will be again what I would consider to be friends.

It is funny that I still have this deep wound caused by this man I spent all of my twenties with. It is funny because I have a new man. A funny one. A hot one. He is mine and I am his and we don't know what the future will hold but at least we have each other. Where the first one was like a mountain I forced myself to climb this new one is like a perfectly made glove. He suits me in every way. He fits perfectly as the big spoon. Sometimes I am his jet-pack and it also comforts me so. He gives the best hugs and has the best voice I've ever heard.

The divorce was finalized July 22. I cried so much. Yet I am relieved it is over. The kids are doing better with two homes now. I think that because of my BPD, we would never have been a whole happy home.

Speaking of Borderline Personality Disorder, I still have not found the perfect help. The last therapist I tried was much too passive for what I need. It is as if I need someone to smack me across the face to get my attention and tell me the things I need to do to not alienate everyone who loves me. I do not see myself doing it as it happens, it is only after the conflict when I am filled with regret I see my disorder come out of me.

So many people love me. And I am so very grateful for that love. My mom, my brother, my kids, my animals, my boyfriend. As awful and horrific as the ending of Kevaleta has been - so much good has come out of it as well. So I can't completely hate it. Even though it cuts me open every morning when I realize this is my real life. And I am not where I expected I would be at 31.

I will be okay. And we are a real family still. Just a split one.  Thank you for caring. xoxoxox

Monday, July 06, 2015

Borderline Personality Disorder.

Thoughout the last ten years or so I have seen many therapists. I was always diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I believed them. After the last three babies they said it was Post-Partum Depression.

I tried all kinds of anti-depressents and tried talk therapy. I never got better. I still was unhappy. I blew up at my friends and family. I was violent. I was angry. I contantly thought everyone was either on my side or not. I have had a hard time keeping friends. Mostly, I have felt extremely alone and very very sad.

After I moved out of my almost-ex-husband's house in October, a friend suggested that I find a therapist with a PHD. Who was an actual doctor. Not just a licensed therapist - which is what I had only ever seen previously because that was what my insurance covered. I found one and she was pretty great.

After a few months she finally told me something that makes perfect sense. I have Borderline Personality Disorder. The diagnosis honestly hit me like a ton of bricks. First of all, everything I read about the disorder is completely me. I am actually - kind of crazy. I never knew. I have been this way as long as I can remember. As a teenager especially. I even reached out for help back then but my counselor said I was just depressed.

Currently I am trying to find a new therapist because mine went to work at a hospital.  She has honestly helped more in the short time that I saw her then any therapist before. I am dealing with insurance and I am really hoping they will cover someone who can actually help me. I am on a waiting list for a Dialectical behavior therapy program in Seattle. It is a 3 month wait. However, insurance will not cover the program and it will cost $200 a week. I am now a single mom on a limited income and I am not sure I can afford it.

I am still unhappy. I am still feeling sad. I cry a lot. I am on new meds. I am trying to get help. I decided to take the summer of off school to try and get help. Finding help seems really difficult. I am super grateful I now have a diagnosis that makes sense. I have discovered who my real friends are. I have my mom back again. She says I always had her. I cried when she said that.

Anyway, there are the guts of what I have been doing the last few months. 

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Divorce

I wipe the fairy white quartz counters that it took us ages to agree on. The ones I had my heart set on. I realize there is no longer an "us." The counters I thought were completely mine. They will now be staying in his house. The counters in my new house are grey and not as pretty.

I hear the kids laughing and playing together joyfully, hoping I will continue to sometimes hear that sound once we've told them. Once we've shattered everything they know in life. Siblings and children are for life - even if a marriage is not.

Tears stream down my face for the tenth time today. I wonder how my life turned into this. Where did I go so wrong? Why did I not see it coming?

Husbandface, my husbandface is divorcing me. How long can I call him husbandface? Until the day we are officially divorced? He told me to call him by his name. I am starting to really hate his name.

I have moved into the office of our dream home. My choice - he offered to move out of our bedroom first. I hate his bed so I chose a couch. My back does not like this decision I have made.

My mind goes back to every move or word I have made in the past nine years to wonder which moves or words have ruined my whole life. My husbandface, whom I thought would always be there for me - is not. He is not mine. He is his own. He has chosen a single life rather then a life shared with erratic Valeta moods. As angry and hurt and devastated as I am I cannot blame him. My moods have never been constant. My heart is shattered.

Depression is once again my only friend. He takes me in his arms and cackles as I am surrounded by dark storm clouds.

Do not worry my dear internets, I am taking care of Valeta. I have a therapist and a psychiatrist. I have real friends too. Spending time with me and making me laugh. And as always I have my tiny loves.

Tiny loves I feel I have let down. This is real life though and as always I am trying my best. 

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Depression of this Summer

Yesterday Robin Williams hung himself. A man who brought so much laughter to our planet. It has caused what seems like the entire internet to cry. It has made me cry. I can't imagine what his family might be going through, and in the spotlight. If he can't get through depression, what chance do I have?

It really really has made me think. Think about depression. About what he might have been going through. About what I am going through. We are all going through something. Some of us just cannot deal with it as well as others. 

I haven't really blogged all summer because this summer has been absolute shit. I did some stupid stuff and I lost friends. I am often socially awkward and just say the wrong damn thing. It happens all the time. I am a very honest person but I do tend to exaggerate everything. Then other friends decided to drift away as well. Then the person who I really thought I could trust flat out lied to me and expected me to be happy about the thing she lied about. I felt betrayed. She has apologized but I do not trust a word she says. How could I? She is a damn liar. 

The day I turned 30 none of the people that I thought were my best friends called or texted me. My mother did not call me. My grandmother did not call me. Why did I not call them? What kind of asshole calls people just to be told happy birthday? I was trying not to be an egocentric asshole. But I was so alone. I thought of all the ways I could kill myself. I imagined slicing my wrists in my bathtub. I imagined taking a bunch of pills during the baby's naptime. I imagined hanging myself off the balcony. I wondered what my body would look like dead. But then one of my three children who are at home would come up and hug me. 

I could never do that to them. As much as I hate myself and don't understand why I am on this earth - they need me. I suppose I am on this earth for them. And for this I am extremely thankful. When I posted a thank you on facebook to the one person who did call me, my ex was so mean to me. What the hell did I do to make everyone hate me and people be mean to me on my own birthday? Does anyone really deserve that? I don't think so. 

Anyway, I did end up having a good birthday weekend and making a really good friend. For those two days I was happy. 

Then this whole Robin Williams thing happens and I am torn up again. For his family and every one. I am so angry that depression exists. I am so angry for him. I am so angry for me and my children. The one thing I would tell people is to please be kind to other people - you never know what is going on behind their eyes. 

Fuck depression.