30 Tuesday Truths: One

While wandering the internet awhile ago, I came across a 30 Days of Truth blogging challenge/project over at As The Pendulum Swings. Instead of blogging every day, I've decided to take it on on a weekly basis, posting a new question & my answer every week.


Day 01 : Something you're working to change about yourself

Originally, today's topic was "something you hate about yourself", but I wanted to put a more positive spin on it. I don't need an indepth written explanation of what I dislike about myself -- I already know my flaws and would rather work to accept, improve or change them than to continue hating myself for them!

One of the things I've been working hard to change is my reflex to perceived/actual abandonment and rejection. I don't think I'll ever "get over" it, but it's important that I learn to work with and around it. When I feel like someone's pushing me out of their life, instead of going quietly without questioning it, nowadays I try to at least confirm it first! I still have a long way to go and a lot of work still needs to be done, though.

One of the things I've been doing to bring about this change is to challenge my thoughts and beliefs. If someone appears to be pushing me out of their life, I like to do a reality check -- does it seem that way to others whom I trust? If I were to see it from the outside, such as watching a friend go through it, would I expect the friend to react/feel similarly?

Another thing that helps me is, as I mentioned earlier, confirming it with the person or people involved. I prefer not to do this until after I've had a 'reality check' because I worry that people will find reassuring me too much work if I need it too often, but there are definitely times I would have done better to ask straight out. I'm finding that there are certain circumstances in which I can more easily accept the person's answers as truth/honesty rather than suspecting guilt has played a part (either subconsciously or consciously), so I try to make sure I ask in ways that don't push those buttons, that way I can trust the answers I receive.

Ultimately, I think I'd like to be able to say that I always check in with others and weigh up their possible/probable motivations before I respond to abandonment (perceived or real), and that the negative 'trigger' responses are controlled in their intensity and duration. For now, I can say that there is some progress in coping with the abandonment and the internal responses, but I still definitely wouldn't call it controlled in intensity/duration.


What have you been working on changing for yourself and how have you been doing it?

Chrysalis Stirring

Dear world,

I've decided I'm worth more than the names people call me. I've decided I'm worth more than the names I call myself.

I've decided I'm worth more than the value attributed me when I agree with an unpopular opinion. I've decided I'm worth more than the value attributed me when I don't agree with someone who thinks I should.

I've decided I'm worth more than the way I'm treated when someone is hurtful towards me because they don't like me. I've decided I'm worth more than the way I'm treated when someone disrespects me because they don't like me. I've decided I'm worth more than the way I'm treated when someone acts hurtfully, even when I can find a reason to excuse it.

Most of all, I've begun to realise that I'm worth at least the basic respect owed to everyone else in this life, and I'm no longer going to settle for less in order to give more.

I know this will come as a surprise to some people, and I'll try to remember that and be gentle as people around me adjust to this new me who is emerging from a cocoon of self-censure.

I'll try to remember that and be gentle with both others and myself as I discover that some people won't like the new me, that previously good friends will struggle to come to terms with this person who no longer accepts what has always been the status quo.

I will remind myself of my own worth as I gently bow out of relationships that are no longer healthy or helpful for me, and I will endeavour to do so gracefully in as respectful and kind manner as I can, without letting go of my goal - to be true to myself, my goals the life that is mine to live.

And world, I will remember to be grateful, even to the people to whom I am letting go, and the people who don't want to treat me the way I now realise I deserve. I hope I will allow those people to fuel my desire to respect and be respected in turn.

Thank you,
Chrysalis.

Returning from the mists -- & a question re friendships

Hello world!

It's been a long while since I posted, I know. I want to reopen this blog, but I'm not sure exactly what direction I want to take it in. I am, for the most part, doing quite well these days. I've been working very hard on myself and my issues. Don't get me wrong, I still have BPD symptoms that I need to get or keep on top of, but I'm not sure I even still meet the criteria.

My Sanguine Saturday posts have stopped, partially because I think I don't need them anymore, and partially because I just kept forgetting to post them once the internet was back on. A bit of shuffling may make these useful again, or I may abolish them entirely now that they have served out their usefulness.

My last episode of self harm, a minor cut to my shoulder, was in April (?) and it remains the only instance of self harm this year. That feels somewhere between a miracle and an amazement, and at the same time I'm a little bit proud. It's a big achievement for me. And although I have had a couple of drinks (few enough that the bottle of Vodka I bought at New Years still has alcohol in it even though I've shared it with both my partner and his adult daughter), my last problem-drink was in September.

Most of my problem behaviours have settled at least somewhat. As I said, I've worked hard.

My thoughts and emotions continue to need a lot of work, though, and although I've cut back on my therapy sessions, I have signed up to be included when DBT becomes available here. They're trying to make sure they have large enough numbers before they tell us when it's going to start, but I'm hopeful it'll be running by next year.

My partner and I are quite happy still, though of course we have our moments like any other couple. We have strong communication (I bet nobody expected I would be able to say I have strong communication with anyone!) and respect for each other - despite using nicknames like Bumface for each other. ;)

The one big thing missing, for me, is that I still have very limited friendships and "regular" support network. I have ceased contact with my father, and contact with the rest of my family has also been drastically reduced; and I simply don't have much in the way of friendships offline. I've been able to reconnect with one of the girls I went to school with, with whom I was close for a few periods after school, and that's been good, but I really need more friends locally.

My volunteer position didn't work out - I just wasn't ready yet - so I'm wondering if any of you have any suggestions on how I can meet and make friends, especially local ones? I spend some time at the local mental health community facility (with workshops and activities) but I'd really like to make friends with people who're functioning better in the real world than I am. There's a games store opening up locally that sounds like it'll run board game nights etc, so I'll check that out, too, but any other suggestions would be very welcome.

Conquering The Need To Please

Anybody who knows me at all, knows that I am, possibly above all other things, a people-pleaser. As a child, it was a necessary part of my survival - as an adult, it was, I believed, the only way I would ever be liked, let alone loved. So for a long time all of my value came from having others like me, from doing and being everything everyone else wanted me to be. I was a chameleon and I wore whatever skin I thought the other person wanted to see.

If (I thought) you wanted someone to listen, that's what I'd do. If (I thought) you wanted comfort, that's what I'd give. If (I thought) you wanted advice, I'd offer it. If (I thought) you wanted to hear you were wonderful, that's what I'd say. Everything came second to that need to please - everything. I would stay up all night to support an acquaintance; give money away to anybody who asked, if they said they needed it; drop everything for everyone.

And it worked. I had a knack for it. I was good at being what everyone else wanted me to be - too good. Somewhere in all of that, I lost who I was. I lost who I wanted me to be. I lost my substance, and all that was left was the need to please everybody else. And I was fine with that because, you see, most people did like me... to a point.

People loved that I would do anything for them. They valued that I would value them so much... but they, for the most part, didn't have a lot of respect for me. Why should they, when I so clearly had no respect for myself?

2008 was the beginning of a turning point. In 2008 I came face to face with the concept that although most (real life) people "liked" me, nobody actually particularly cared about or for me. I was everybody's friend, but nobody counted me as theirs; as far as they were concerned, I was a hanger-on, an amiable and pleasant caricature, but I was not and had never been, any more than that.

Even after I recognised that, though, I didn't connect the dots. I couldn't understand how everybody could like me so much and not actually like me. (If you're confused, perhaps thinking of it as the difference between an acquaintance and a friend may help.)

And even when I did connect the dots, when I finally made the link, I was too afraid to do anything about it. My entire worth as a person hung on whether others liked me; if I started trying to worry about how I felt about things, everyone would see that there was nothing worth liking in me. So I didn't change much. By this stage I'd agreed to do DBT because that was (I thought) what my case manager had wanted for me. I stayed because (I thought) that was what the group coordinator had wanted.

I dropped everything when (I thought) somebody wanted me to or believed they needed me to. Even as I recognised the re-emergence of my self, my needs, my wants... I put them aside for others. And generally not selectively, either; there was a level of hierarchy, but for the most part, anyone who (I thought) wanted something, got it.

And then... something changed. I don't know if it was gradual, sneaking up on me, or if it was fairly sudden, but I do know that something has changed.

I've started to speak out. I don't just tell people what (I think) they want to hear, these days. I tell the truth as I see it - I try to be compassionate and diplomatic about it, but I'm still learning how to balance that with being true to myself. I'm still learning what it means to have a self to be true to.

I'm interested in helping people, in offering more than a virtual snuggle; I want to challenge people because we cannot grow without challenge. I'm not interested in walking on eggshells for the rest of my life. I'm not interested anymore in putting aside everything I need, everything I want, everything I am, to please somebody else.

Unsurprisingly, I'm less liked now.

Surprisingly, I don't mind nearly as much as I thought I would. It still hurts a lot, and it's very hard, still, to say no to my desire to please someone else. I don't always choose to do it, even when I know I 'should'. It's a learning curve, and this is just the beginning of another journey.

I used to think the world would end if I upset others, if I put myself first, if I failed to please someone...

Let me tell you, the world hasn't ended.

Yes, I'm less 'popular' now, but I feel, in some ways, like I am much more loved. People I truly admire -- people who are imperfect but never give up; who are good, kind, thoughtful people who have learned or are learning to respect themselves and put themselves first sometimes; who understand the value of change and challenge; who aren't afraid to give and take -- have noticed the change in me, in a good way. I feel like I have earned something much more valuable to me than mass outward approval - I feel that I have earned, dare I say it?, the respect of people I look up to. And I have earned something else, somehow, too, because I discovered something when I realised how much I have changed.

Not only would I would much rather have the respect and love of five* of those people than be universally liked; I'd rather respect myself than be universally liked, too.

*(I just wanted to put a number here and since I prefer numbers to be in multiples of 5...)



Cheer-leading / Challenge Statements:
It's okay to be proud of myself.
I don't have to be perfect.
I'm an okay person, and choosing to look after myself and my needs first doesn't change that.
I'm not responsible for other peoples' emotions.



Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.

Trusting My Intuition

Intuition. Going with your gut. I wonder if that's a concept that others with Borderline Personality Disorder commonly struggle with, as well. I can see how it could be tied into various aspects of living with BPD; the lack of belief and trust in yourself, the lack of (knowledge of) a self to trust in... I can see that.

If you'll forgive my segue into something that may (at this point) seem completely unrelated, I remember once reading that people who have Borderline Personality Disorder are particularly sensitive to the moods of others. By that, I hasten to add, I don't mean in terms of the well known Borderline hypersensitivity to rejection; rather, in terms of recognising general emotions in others, and being able to identify when others are being false about their emotions. I wish I could find that article again because it was fairly interesting, even if, at the time, I disagreed with a lot of what was said. I mention it now because a recent situation in my life has given me cause to really ponder some of the ideas behind that.

You see, when I came back from Canberra, I sensed that things in my circle of friends weren't 'right'. Something felt off. I told myself that I was just being paranoid; that I was misinterpreting the situation and that I was being silly.

My friends started doing more and more things without me; things we had previously done together. I felt excluded, but I told myself that it was just that they had made the plans when I wasn't there, and just hadn't thought to let me know/invite me; or that they were preparing for my intended move; or that they were giving me time and space to prepare for the move.

When we did hang out, I felt waves of dislike coming from my friends, and especially from one friend in particular. I told myself over and over again that I was just projecting my own dislike for myself onto my friends. I told myself that they wouldn't invite me to hang out with them if they didn't like me, if they didn't want me there. I tried to talk over the top of the little voice in my head that suggested that maybe I was right, maybe something really was wrong in these friendships.

I spent three months in this daily fight with myself, trying to drown out that "unhelpful voice" that was telling me that something wasn't right. I wasted three months. Eventually, something happened and a conversation occurred between one of my friends and I. I told her how I had been feeling, she told me what had been going on. It turns out, you see, that I wasn't just paranoid. My initial thought, my recognition that something wasn't right, turned out to be spot on. Something really had been going on in my friendships, and I had wasted three months telling myself that my recognition of that was wrong, that it was the unhealthy and unhelpful voice of paranoia.

Things with some of that group of friends are back on track, now. They're not back where they used to be, but I'm more okay with how things are. That first friend I talked to, she apologised. I apologised. There were a lot of miscommunications; a lot of misunderstandings and, yes, plenty of mistakes... on both sides of the coin. And the day we started to talk about it, we both began to heal those wounds. It was not an easy day for either of us; but (and I speak here for myself, only, I cannot say whether these words ring true for any other people) I think it was certainly a worthwhile one.

I wouldn't wish for it to happen again, but there was value in that experience. I learned some very important things that I would not otherwise have learned yet.

Not only did I re-learn the importance of honesty and clear communication in my friendships, but I learned that my "unhealthy voice of paranoia" is my own intuition; insistent but unpracticed and generally unrecognised. I learned the importance of trusting that intuition and of acting on that in responsible ways.

I also learned that maybe there is something to the idea that, as someone with BPD, I might be more sensitive to mood changes in others. It makes sense, after all. As a child, my survival depended on being able to judge a situation or a person's mood, it makes sense that as an adult, I am still able to tap into that skill; however unintentionally or subconsciously I do it.

The trick, then, in understanding how such a concept might work, came in recognising for the first time that being able to detect changes in another person's mood, means just that. It doesn't mean I'll get it right every time; it doesn't mean there won't be misunderstandings. In fact, it is probably this sensitivity that leads to those misunderstandings, such as in the following scenario:

We are walking together and as we walk, we chatter. Suddenly, you see a car go past that reminds you of your ex-husband's car. Your mood drops.

I notice that your mood has changed, but I might decide that it's because I've said the wrong thing, or that you are wondering why you hang out with a loser like me. My intuition has recognised that change ... but my disordered thinking has misinterpreted the facts.

I can trust my intuition! It's necessary to remember not to blindly act on the specifics of it, but if I sense something change, if it's important, it's okay to trust my intuition and check in with the other person! In fact, it's more than important, it's downright essential.


Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.

The Butterfly Does Not Make The Caterpillar A Lie

Today I made a discovery. In all my years in and out of therapy, in all my time spent working on "this, that or the other" issue, something went unseen, unrecognised and uncorrected. Let me back up a few steps with a story that is fairly vivid in my mind. It's not an especially distressing memory, nor is it particularly unusual for my life, but for some reason, it's something that has remained quite clear.

I am thirteen years old, it's just after school and I've missed my bus. I know my stepmother's going to be angry with me, but I haven't any other choice, so I walk to the office and I call her. That conversation is lost to the 27 year old I am now, but I do remember knowing she wasn't happy she'd have to fetch me. She doesn't ask why I have missed the bus and I don't volunteer. By the time we are home and she wants to know, I cannot for the life of me remember. This is nothing unusual as I often forget things or share things that don't "tally" with what someone else thinks has happened. I am used to it, as is my stepmother. Unfortunately, as much as she is used to it, she despises it. She fires questions at me, shoots accusations that are baseless and unlikely: I didn't forget, I had a detention and didn't want to admit to it. I was down the back kissing a boy. I was in a fist fight. I was redoing an exam. I was caught breaking school rules and having a chat to the principal. In the midst of these accusations, I suddenly remember what I had been doing, why I had missed the bus. A friend who had been having a hard time had asked me for support in doing something. We'd both expected I had plenty of time, but over or under estimated somewhere. Why I couldn't remember this earlier, I don't know. But I did remember it now, and as my stepmother threw her ideas of where I'd been at me, I tell her it wasn't any of those things. Her lip twists into a sneer and she tells me I wouldn't know, since I can't remember, and I tell her, "I do remember, now" and she doesn't believe me. She tells me that I can't 'not remember' before and remember now.

I learn that if the situation changes, the past is a lie.

That is not the first time I received that message, and it wasn't the last, and in 27 years, nobody's ever thought to tell me any different. I didn't challenge it because I didn't see it as anything but simple fact... until today.

Just as the butterfly who emerges from her cocoon does not make the caterpillar a lie in fact, nor does it do so in metaphor. If who I am changes, if I adjust my coping mechanisms; if I move beyond my past, that does not make the past a lie. Future change does not make now-me a lie or a liar!

I can use this on so many levels.



Today's cheer-leading statements:
I don't have to take on my family's judgements about me.
I am not a bad person.
Change does not make the past a lie!
Avoidance doesn't make the problem go away.
I have the tools and the strength to handle anything that comes my way.



Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.