21 and starting to live out a future!

I'm confused and amazed all at once that I am 21, today. Confused, because I didn't think I'd make it to 21, let alone 20. One year ago, I would have died, early this morning, if it weren't for two of my very best friends and the best therapist that I've ever gotten to work with! They knew that I was planning an intricate suicide. Rachel kept me distracted and entertained with a birthday cake that my cat wanted to eat on the 29th. On the 30th, I spent the day with Andi, and she took me to get ice cream, and to go to therapy. Therapy on your birthday doesn't sound like a good idea, but I think it was last year. It kept me alive!

This year, I had no plan to end my life, yesterday or today. In fact, this year, I've been focusing on eating healthier (and actually eating!), finding a job, and I've even been thinking about writing books and going back to school. When I dropped out, I thought that was the end of my education, but I'm gonna return to school in the next couple of years, and am hoping to publish my first book in the next year or two. I can't believe I dreams and hopes. I mean I guess at some point in my life I had dreams of what I wanted to do when I grew up. Now, I'm grown up and actually planning and organizing to achieve things. It's just cool. I just realized this blog is a lot shorter than what I originally wrote, but I'm gonna use what I wrote before, later.

This is what's next!

So, here's the deal. I've relapsed. There's no quesion about it. I started to restrict. I've been having the uges and thoughts to self-harm. I even have moments that I start to plan my own death.

But that does not mean recovery is over! I can do this. I'mm gonna need encouragement and reminders, but I know what I want. I want to be successful as a DBT therapist. I wanna help others that are struggling with the same issues. I wanna teach people that BPD doesn't make a person hopeless. It's treatable; I know it is. With DBT, a support system, the right meds, I can recover, just like anyone else with a menal illness. And just like people with other mental illness, I'm gonna relapse. I'm gonna fall and struggle, but I'm also gonna grow stronger and fight for myself and show others that BPD is not a curse. It doesn't doom you for life. In fact, I think my struggles with BPD and anorexia and cutting- and everything has given me purpose and a dream.

So, here's what is next: I'm gonna eat. There's gonna be days here I restrict. I'm gonna feel alone and hopeless at times. Butt then, I'll feel confident and see hope for my future. I'm gonna visit my family and friends in June. And while I enjoy myself, I'm gonna be mindful that this is a new moment and I have control over this moment. And when I feel triggered and scared, I'm gonna remind myself to be mindful and that I only have control over what's in this moment. Then, when I get back home, I'm gonna get my finances in order, and get ready to return to school. When I return to school, I'm gonna kick ass and study hard. And when I start to struggle, I'm gonna lean on my support system while being mindful of boundaries. WHen I'm doing great, I'm gonna be others' support while being assertive about my own boundaries. I'm gonna be awesome, because I am more than a mental illness and am fighting it!

So, yes, I fell and will probably fall a hundred more times, but I'm getting up and coming back with more confidence and strength every time!

What it feels like to relapse...

Relapse sucks! Recovery sucks! Everything just sucks. Relapsing means convincing yourself that all the work that you've done doesn't matter at all. For me, that's 4 months of nonstop work on recovery. Sticky notes, reminding me to take my meds don't is just a waste of paper. Worksheets and diagrams, and even my journals a waste. The weight-the pounds of fat that only I seem to be able to see. The disgusting image I have of myself was all meaningless. I could have continued working towards what I find beautiful. I could have kept up with my bills, wasted less money on sugar and fat. It was all to be healthy, functional. Health is down the drain. I restrict and restrict. I eat as little as possible. When I eat and I actually enjoy the flavor of the food, I tell myself that I must go purge. I haven't. I still have this part of me fighting to get back up. Fighting to remain in recovery. But the thing about relapse is: no matter how small or big the relapse, it seems like recovery was never there. Its like an addiction. Once, you have that drug, you've lost touch with a recovery goal. All that's left is you and that drug. My drug is Ana. And I wanna be Ana, but I also wanna be free. Logically, I know they can't coexist. But Ana will always be there, which means I'll never really be free. I wanna take Ana out of the equation. I wanna take cutting and suicide and fucking BPD out of the equation, but subtracting them scares me, because it leaves an imaginary number- and i hate those imaginary numbers, because they still make no sense to me!

So where do I go from here? I have no idea. I wanna hold it together. My progress with recovery has made it possible for my adoptive parents to forgive me and let me visit them and my new baby brother in June. My progress has shown people that I'm not just a liability problem. I've been able to communicate effectively with my sister. It's like I wanna make it through June before completely falling apart. The question is: Why can't I just get back to progressing in recovery? Its so complicated. I'm still doing worksheets and really thinking things through. Its like I'm working on all the interpersonal effectiveness skills and doing so well, but so not well at the same time. Like I'm asking for simple thing. I'm being assertive about day-to-day tasks, but I avoid conversations about me or my relapse. I don't feel comfortable talking about it. Writing about about it, I can do all day. My mindfulness and emotion regulation skills are slipping. I got distress tolerance down! Especially, the skill of distracting myself. Whenever I'm starting to think about food, I just dive into an activity, or worksheets, or books- anything to just take myself away from calories.

I guess I'm suppose to just keep going. I should review my goals. I have so many goals that I really wanna achieve and I know I can if I had the strength and confidence to. Its so hard because I get trapped in the thoughts and urges...I'm really not sure what to do. I'm done typing.

Relapse in honor of the MENTAL HEALTH PROFESSIONALS

I'm feeling quite conflicted about my recovery, today. My mind just keeps repeating, "If you can't do it right, then don't do it at all." This week, I feel like I'm doing everything wrong. It's so hard for me to understand, because last week, I felt hopeful and strong. Now, I just feel like the stregth has been ripped out of me.

I just want everyone to know that I don't want to be the way I am, right now. I wanna be strong and confident and able to hold myself together. I wanna be independent and successful. It's hard to be that way when it feels like others continually put you down. I'm tired of being sorry for being intelligent and for doing what I feel is best for me. Sometimes,, I wish so badly I didn't know anything. I more than often, think about how if I stopped eating, started drinking and doing drug, or just banged my head on the wall, I might kill my brain cells. Maybe I'd kill the ones that regulate emotions and will be numb and able to focus on knowledge, and go back to school. Or maybe the ones that control my intelligence will shrivel and die. Then I'll finally be hopeless and worthless, the way mental health professionals see me.

I've also thought about maybe if I took my life, leaving behind journals, someone will finally listen to me. I dunno why its so hard to listen to me. I'm just as important as anyone else and deserve the same respect! Today, I was cooking with a deaf guy and realized that he was able to understand me better than people who can hear.

It's interesting that in all these mental health videos and articles, they talk about how important support systems are for recovery, but I'm expected to go through recovery all on my own. Actually, I'm expected to not recover because I have borderline personality disorder. Well, just to let all of you know, it is a MENTAL ILLNESS, and through research, they are finding a genetic connection to the ILLNESS. It may be harder to treat than fucking bipolar or schizophrenia, but IT CAN BE TREATED!!!!!!! If mental health PROFESSIONALS would get their heads out of their asses and actually listen to their clients/patients/members-whatever the fuck you wanna call them, people like me would recover. Its so frustrating how I get no support from my TREATMENT TEAM- YES, TREATMENT, BECAUSE BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER IS AN ILLNESS IN YOUR STUPID DIAGNOSTIC BOOK. I may not be perfect, or even good enough, but I've been trying my best to not completely relapse. So from now on, fuck off if you're against me recovering. Or you might as well, buy me the pills! I'm done with this bullshit. I have put all my effort forth and am getting to my breaking point.

As far as, Ana goes- I'm done! I can't do it. I've been trying so hard. I just feel so much pressure and need to be in control of something. So yes, starting now, I will be counting every calorie, every gram of fat, and every gram of sugar that I put into my body. And when I get down to 80, fuck all of you!

Why I struggle so much with eating

It's hard to wanna eat when obesity is the main focus in the world of health. Logically, with my genetics, I'll probably never be overweight, but I still worry about it. The obcession with not wanting to overweight is not the only reason that I struggle so much with my eating. And even the self-destuction part of it isn't what's causing my struggle. I just don't like to eat. I'm scared to eat anything with fat. I hate calories. Raw meat grosses me out and I don't wanna touch it, so I don't like cooking it- I've decided to go vegetarian again. Something in my mind says I must be under 100 lbs. Then, there's just the habit of skipping meals. I don't get hungry like I should. When I do crave food, it's sugar. Sweets. Fattening, sugary, high-calorie sweets. Carbs. Fat. By the time, I see it, or have eaten it, I feel so sick to my stomach. I want to be healthy, but I don't want to eat. It's like a constant battle in my head.

People try to get me to eat. I always have granola in my bag and I try to drink an ensure every day. But it's been the same granola for a week, like I haven't refilled my container, because I eat each grain and nut, individually, and never actually finish my one cup container. I'm not counting calories again, and I'm trying really hard not to. Instead, I just move my food around on a plate, and then I put half of it away. I eat half of what's left and throw out the rest. It's wasting so much food, but I know I won't eat it. I'm actually starting to make smaller portions, and trying to put away 3/4 of the plate and then eating the rest. I know it's not actually any healthier, but at least I'm not wasting as much money. If anyone has any new ideas to help me get back on track with recovery, please share them with me!!! I do want to be healthy, and I really don't wanna fall into another depression episode.

Pride

Pride is often looked at as a bad thing. Its taught that it's wrong to be proud of ourselves. But I think just like anything else, pride is sometimes a good thing. If you worked hard and got great results, you deserve to be proud. I think we should be allowed to celebrate goals being accomplished, small and big. While pride shouldn't consume us- I don't think any emotion should-, being proud of covering new ground in research, in work, in treatment, is part of building a healthy self-esteem.

I can honestly (and proudly) say that I am proud of myself. My pride comes from the progress, I have made these past couple of months. Its actually noticeable to me that my way of thinking, and behaving, is slowly changing. I have more control over my emotions and I have the strength to fight urges to self-harm. While I slipped up with my eating, last week, I am really trying to get back on track- In the past, I would have given up, stopped eating, stopped taking my meds, stopped sleeping...I would have let things spiral so far out of control that I'd be committed or kill myself. But this time, I'm able to catch things early and stop symptoms from escalating.

So, yes! I am proud. And yes, I will celebrate what seems small to other people, because for me, this is a big accomplishment!

Minor Relapse

I hesitated to open my blog to non- "pro-ana" followers, because I was afraid of how people that know me and care about me would respond to my struggles and if I relapsed. I didn't want anyone to be angry with me or controlling. I want understanding, but I realize that it's hard for people to understand when they aren't going through an exact replica of my life. I know people care about me, but sometimes I forget. i'm trying to get better, and that's why I am being honest.

I had a relapse these past couple of weeks. It started with skipping breakfast, and then lunch. I noticed that I wasn't eating, but told myself that I wasn't hungry. I only skipped dinner, once or twice, but I still knew I was headed for a complete relapse. Especially, when I started calculating calories in food that other people were eating. My urges to cut were very strong this past week. I've drawing on my arm to calm myself, but it's not the same. I haven't cut, which is good.

I'm trying to develop a new plan for preventing relapse. I've been good about forcing myself to eat, this weekend. I'm trying to remind myself that people fall and always have the choice to get back up. It's difficult, because I think I deserve to fall the rest of the way down. Then there's that part of me saying, "Just wait. If someone comes to save you, then you'll be fine. And if they don't, it's because no one cares and you don't deserve to keep going."

I didn't write this blog, because I want people to be concerned. I wrote it to just update people. I want people to know that- yeah, I'm still struggling and most days, I don't wanna get out of bed. But I do and I'm learning to face my struggles. Most importantly, I wrote this blog, because I am scared that I've f***ed all the progress that I've made, and need acountability in order to get back up.

Thoughts Between Reality and Psychosis

I find the term “borderline” ironic. It describes an in-between state of mind. When the criteria for Borderline Personality Disorder was first developed, it was thought that people with BPD stood on a thin line between reality and psychosis. The reason that I find “borderline” such an ironic term is people suffering from BPD think in black-and-white. Things are either all good or all bad. Examples from my personal life:
-In school, I saw it as I failed everything, and therefore can’t do anything right. (In
reality, if I failed everything, I wouldn’t have graduated.)
-If I upset someone, everyone musts hate me. (The fact is people get upset, but hopefully,
everyone doesn’t hate me.)
-If one therapist couldn’t help me, then no one can. (I’m still figuring out whether this is
reality or delusion.)
The idea is everything is one extreme or another. The middle ground can’t be seen.
This next thought pattern is one of my biggest struggles. It’s engraved into my mind that I am an awful worthless piece of shit that doesn’t deserve to be loved. Everyone, at some point, struggles with self-image to an extent. A person who struggles with BPD hates himself/herself so much that they depend on others to define who he/she is. I often say that my intelligence is all I have, but as soon as someone else questions my intelligence, or makes the slightest implication that I’m stupid, I become terrified that they’re right. My sense of self has been deteriorated and I need reassurance to get it back. I usually wait for someone else to reassure me, or discourage me. Other’s opinions matter more than my own at times. I become codependent on whoever I’m closest to (my adoptive mom, my therapist, and once, I no longer had them, Ana).

I feel like poor sense of self plays into the difficulty in problem-solving and making decisions. I dunno about other borderlines, but when I face a problem that requires me to make a decision, I freeze up. Like right now, I have a huge financial decision to make, but I can’t. If I don’t make this decision soon… I’m getting so nervous, thinking about it. Instead of actually doing something about the problem that has come up, I am avoiding it as much as possible. If I avoid it long enough, I know that it will no longer be my decision.

I’m gonna move on, because I wanna continue blogging about BPD thought patterns and not get torn up over finances. The next thought pattern is dissociation, which can range from being unaware of the environment to being completely detached from reality. I’m almost never paying attention; I’ve always been like that. I fear the reality of situations, so if I go elsewhere, I’ll never have to face it. The thinking isn’t necessarily logical, but it’s actually the brain’s way of trying to survive stress, or trauma. I’ve gotten so good at detaching myself from life, there’s been times that I have actually convinced myself that none of this is real. It works for a little while, but then I snap out of my mind’s world and it feels like everything crashes down on me. I lose control, and wanna find another escape, even if it’s more harmful than the actual conflicts.

The final thought pattern that I’m going to discuss in this blog: psychosis. Psychosis is an extremely interesting topic in itself, but I am going to try to stick to the basics, right now. Dissociation is a form of psychosis. Psychosis in the simplest definition is a loss of contact with reality. It can come in the form of delusional thinking/paranoia, hallucinations, and out of body experiences. Hallucinations are fascinating. The most common forms are visual and auditory hallucinations, but a hallucination can affect any of the senses. You can feel bugs crawling in your skin, smell gas leaking in your home, or taste sugar while eating dirt. None of it actually real, but you think it is. It’s so cool how the mind can play tricks on us. Before I go too far, I’m gonna switch over to psychosis in BPD. People with BPD may never have a psychotic episode. Like any illness, a person isn’t always gonna show every symptom in the text book. That being said, I’ve been diagnosed as having a psychotic episode once in the form of paranoia. I’m not gonna go into it, because I don’t think I can without the experience re-surfacing.

That’s all I can do, right now. This blog was a lot more “intense” for me than it probably will be for others. Tomorrow, I will go into the behavioral symptoms of BPD- the symptoms that others pick up on.

The Emotional Face of BPD

Borderline Personality Disorder. The first time that I heard this diagnosis, I was sitting in the meeting room of the Psychiatric Unit of the hospital. I had been in the hospital for about a week, refusing to eat, avoiding eye contact, and throw tantrums like a toddler. “I am not a fucking borderline! I’m not fucking crazy!” My thoughts racing so fast and my entire body felt like it was going to explode. The worst part was not knowing who came up with this awful accusation. My adoptive mom points to the therapist, I trusted to never talk behind my back. My therapist said that my adoptive mom came to her asking about borderline personality disorder. I still don’t know who originally pointed into that direction. All I know is they’d been talking about it for several months before they told me. It hurts to know that no one really can be trusted- except for newborns and pets. Thinking about that hospitalization makes me wanna scream and cry. I wanna hate everyone that was involved. I wanna run away and never speak to another human. But I also know that they all just wanted to help me.

It doesn’t matter who came up with my diagnosis (well, it obviously matters a little bit to me). What matters is how this diagnosis has affected me. BPD is very difficult to accurately diagnose, let alone treat. It’s not like other psychiatric disorders, where pills can be handed to make delusions dissolve, emotions regulate, and concentration return. Medication can help to an extent, but they don’t re-program your brain (neither does Electroconvulsive Therapy). It takes a lot of time and work. The symptoms of BPD are described in three areas of a person’s life: emotions, thoughts, and behaviors. Today, I’m just blogging about the emotional symptoms of BPD and the correlation to my life.
Normally, temperament is a term found in the very child development text books, because it’s determined before humans can even talk, or crawl, or even have teeth. Some babies seem pretty laid back and can sleep through thunder, but other babies are frightened more easily, have trouble sleeping through a quit night, and cry more. This is just the way they are biologically developed. While not all babies with a sensitive temperament are gonna develop BPD, most of us that struggle with BPD are very sensitive and have been our entire lives. I’m sure if you know me, you can come up with examples of me being overly-sensitive. I know that I get overstimulated very easily. That’s why I shut down and often hide, when it comes to parties and even at the grocery store. I’ll skip things on my list if an aisle is too crowded. Small environmental things are so much more stimulating for me than they are for others. I hate it, because sometimes, I just wanna relax and hangout with friends without feeling stressed for no good reason.

I have a friend, who in the very beginning of our relationship, he told me that I was kind of intense. I just bursted into laughter, because the therapist in one of the groups that I was attending had just been talking about the intensity of emotional reactions that people with BPD often display. My reaction to being told that I was diagnosed with BPD is a perfect example of this. Instead of asking what it meant, I just exploded into a rage without allowing any one to speak with me. For all they knew, I wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation, because I had been staring at the ground for the past ten minutes. It’s hard to control my emotions, especially when I think that no one else feels the same way. I want my emotions justified. I want understanding of how I feel, but I’m learning that no one really cares how I feel. People have their own lives and see things different.

I have an example from this past week for the next symptom. On Wednesday, the Medicaid van was an hour late to take me to my treatment program. I was so pissed off. I got to my treatment program and just sulked all day. Didn’t talk much, went back to no eye contact, and by the end of the day, I was in tears. It wasn’t until the next afternoon that I was able to pick myself up. When I’m in a bad mood, I’m in a bad mood for the rest of the day and possibly the week. People with BPD slowly return to their baseline mood. (A quick off-topic side note that I just thought about: my baseline mood has always been melancholy. Not quite depressed, but bleh. But lately, I’ve been developing a new baseline, but I’m not sure how to describe it yet.)

The final symptom in BPD’s emotional characteristics is chronic problems with depression, anxiety, anger, or feelings of emptiness. (It’s sad that I went down the list of symptoms and checked almost every single one of them off.) I think this blog did a pretty good job describing chronic problem with anger, depression and anxiety. Emptiness, well I can definitely say these past couple of years, I was feeling pretty empty and lacked any direction for a while.

My next blog is going to describe the though patterns associated with BPD. I’ll post either tomorrow or Sunday. It may take me a couple of days to type it, because it’ll be a little “intense.”

Treatment and updates on NEDA

At the beginning of the week, I was gonna write a blog every day this week for NEDAwareness Week, but I got a little distracted by treatment. My treatment schedule keeps me busy! I started a new program yesterday that is gonna help me in preparation to go back to work, or school if I work up the nerve to do such. I’ll being going to the program Wednesday through Friday from 9 am until 3 pm. During the day, I’ll be assigned to one of their three units. Yesterday, I was on the Snack Bar Unit, where I made sandwiches, popcorn, and trail mix. I got to take orders in the afternoon. Next Wednesday will be my second day, because I couldn’t make it today or tomorrow; I will spend my day in the kitchen, helping prepare lunch and clean up afterwards. Then Thursday, I’m gonna help with clerical type work, I guess. The fourth day, I get to choose what unit, I wanna officially be a part of. Throughout each day, there are also different meetings that I have the option to go to. I didn’t go to any of the meetings, so I’m not completely sure what they are about.
On Tuesdays, I have a Dialectical Behavioral Therapy Group, followed by individual therapy and a Human Services appointment. DBT is about learning skills to work through emotions, communicate effectively and assertively, and be mindful and aware of your surroundings. Some of it seems stupid, but it’s actually pretty helpful. Right now, the group is working on how to be assertive about getting your needs met in relationships. Individual therapy seems pretty pointless, lately, because I’m having trouble feeling comfortable with the therapist. It’s hard to replace the perfect therapist, but I’m trying to have an open mind with my current therapist. The Human Services Specialist helps make sure I’m connected to community resources, like transportation, the new treatment program, financial help, and right now, she’s helping me come up with a plan for my living situation. I kind of signed a year lease on a 2 bedroom apartment and in April or May, rent will be increasing by over $100. The increase was a part of the lease, but I didn’t do a very good job with my math (surprisingly). The increased rent is more than my current income. So if you know anyone looking for a room... this weekend, I’m gonna put a roommate add up, again, and hopefully, find a roommate in the next month. If I don’t, I may get evicted, but my plan B is… well… I don’t actually have one yet…
Anyways (changing the subject now), National Eating Disorders Awareness Week is still going on. The Empire State Building was lit blue and green in support of NEDA on Tuesday night. 58% of colleges that participated in the Collegiate Survey Project said that education and resources on eating disorders is extremely/very important. I was able to participate in Operation Beautiful, a little bit. I encourage everyone to try it out! Just take a sticky note, write an encouraging statement, like “You are beautiful!” and post it somewhere in public for people to see. It really is nice to be complimented, even if it’s from a complete stranger, and it may make a huge difference in someone’s life. These are links to the sites that you can find more information about NEDA and Operation Beautiful:

Empire State Building
Collegiate Survey Project
Operation Beautiful