Part 1:
I think I just had a small heartattack as I have intense writer's block and this whole huge piece I just wrote got deleted because I have serious focusing issues and I saw something and clicked on it, quickly realizing that I had just made the page go elsewhere! Deleted the first draft forever. I know it's actually a good thing, because then I get to write again, after I have thought all that out, but it makes my anxiety sky rocket.
This is how determined I am to write right now. Because I'm going fucking nuts! I have these little freak outs... actually I have little freak outs often. But my freak outs are not really freak outs because I am so good at remaining calm. It usually just happens inside. My mind races, my body tingles, and anxiety takes over, but my big freak outs are when I become so restless, so bored, so much yearning for something more, that I like pick up and leave, or make some incredible life changing decision. I'm dizzy just typing this out!
Years ago, I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (unbeknownst to me). As I was with a boy who was very good at fucking with my entire programming. I had left therapy as a request by said boy. I was reduced to a puppet. I don't even remember that horrible year. I don't remember how I did it, why I didn't feel anything ever, but why I was so good at faking like I did. And the way I socialized with others was just horrendous and I knew it, and thinking about it now actually makes me want to vomit. For all the older Gods Girls, this was around the time I was accepted on the site and very aggressively tried to push my (puppet boys) ideas about relationships and circles and bisexuality.
I have always been so ashamed of those days but never outwardly said it.
A
symptom of BPD is susceptibility to joining cults. And looking back on
it, I wanted some kind of identity so so so bad, so bad that I was
easily seduced into this gross cult where all of my freedoms were taken
away and someone else literally made every decision for me, even
changing the way I think and feel about things.
Perhaps if I would have stayed in therapy things would be
different. But then I feel so conflicted about wishing for anything
different because my life has been pretty phenomenal thus far, and I
can't even believe it's only been 20 years. Last year I was still
considered a teenager! And that's the funny
thing about when people ask me what I would wish for and I can never
answer because I don't know how to improve my life really... I have no
way of predicting the outcome of my life choices in the grand scheme of
things, as I obviously can on a smaller scale... but still. It's more
exciting to just throw your fate to the wind. Trying to follow my
intuition when I remember, and be thankful for the reminders when they
come.
When I was in the cult and out of contact with my
family, as this boy had assisted in the breakdown of my relationship
with my family. They loved me so much and were too much of a threat.
And this boy played the fucking puppet master. He threw away birthday
cards from my family while tellling me they just weren't thinking about
me, burning letters without letting me read them, deleting e-mails,
etc.
It was this time when my mom received the insurance
reports in which my ex-therapist diagnosed me as a BPD. Little did I
know, she was reading books and even going to support groups for family
members of people who have this personality disorder.
Fast
forward to a couple years later, I was freaking out. I was freaking out
so much I couldn't breath, and I was driving, just trying to stay very
calm so that I didn't hyperventilate. I became breathless and anxious
as I pondered my life and what I was doing and what I was not doing. I
become very restless sometimes. Jack Kerouac said it perfectly when he
said, "Although Gene was white there was something of the wise and
tired negro in him, and something very much like Hunkey the NY dope
addict in him, but a railroad Hunkey, a traveling epic Hunkey, crossing
and re-crossing the country every year, south in the winter, and north
in the summer and only because he has no place he can stay
without getting tired of it and because there's nowhere to go but
everywhere, and keep rolling under the stars, generally the western
stars."
I came home, immediately calling upon my
mother's assistance. She then broke rule number one, but there are
always exceptions to the rule, and I'm pretty much almost always the
exception. She told me that years ago, I had been diagnosed as BPD and
I should check it out. Every workshop had told her NOT to tell me about
it, but to get me to go to a therapist so he could handle telling me.
So got on good ol' google, good ol' wikipedia and read what was about
to affect me in both very positive and negative ways.
In
good news, I was relieved. I always thought I was a little nutty and
couldn't quite help it. You know, some people are just born a little
off, and I thought I may be one of them, but to find out others felt
exactly as I did, to a point where it ran my life... well it was
comforting. But I think I started using it to excuse my thoughtlessness.
I
came home tonight and found a BPD pamphlet that my mom pulled out for
me. The first thing I read was this, "BPD is a disorder in which a
person is unable to regulate emotions or control impulses. Their
behavior can be seen as maladaptive methods of coping with constant
emotional pain."
What I feel everyday was summed up very eloquently in those two sentences.
To
me this means that everyday, I feel very intensely, a lot of different
emotions. I get too happy, so euphoric it makes me feel anxious and
dizzy, but I don't ever feel pain too much. But that's probably because
I'm very good at distracting myself. What really hits home is the
"maladaptive methods of coping with constant emotional pain."
I
have thought to myself, and less eloquently explained this very same
thing to be that every single moment I am aware of whether I am feeling
good or bad. And every decision is based on making myself happy,
comfortable, less anxious, more fulfilled, etc. Everything I do is in a
pursuit of truth to figure it out, or be happy. And it gets very tiring
sometimes. Like I'm never feeling, and always coping.
On a cooler note, as long as I have health insurance, BPD allows me unlimited $10 a session therapy.
xo Sparky
Old BA Site!
