On Invisibility & Responsibility

Apologies for the very late Sanguine Saturday post -- I wanted to complete this one first, and it has taken me this long to get it done.

Over the past little while I've been exploring the concept of invisiblity (in the symbolic, rather than literal, sense). What is it that makes some people more visible than others; and how much of that belongs on which side of the equation?

For myself, I've felt fairly unwelcome and invisible in several layers of my life recently. I suppose unwelcome isn't necessarily the right word, but certainly invisible is accurate. I've had times where I've wondered if I actually even still exist; if I dreamed my half of a conversation or if perhaps I simply forgot to say what I thought I'd said.

At first I told myself I was being silly. I told myself I was blowing things out of proportion and overreacting. I had, afterall, just come back after a bit of time away -- and before I went away, I often felt unwanted (possibly due to things in my own head). However as time went on, I began to speak about it a little with one or two other people -- people who had noticed the ways I had seemingly faded, and gave me confirmation that it wasn't all in my head.

Reassured that this wasn't entirely a case of borderline 'paranoia' or personal misconception due to insecurity etc, I began to explore why it might be so. What is it that I am doing that is leading to this response? IS it something I'm doing? I asked a few people in a general sort of way and I gave thought to their responses, however as they were responding in general terms (my own fault, as I'd asked in that capacity!) it was difficult to see what to apply to my situation and what not to.

Many theories have bounced around inside my head. Some combine both parties; others are concerned mainly with others' impressions/beliefs about me or focus on my failings. None of them have made me happier or bought me closer to a resolution. I wanted to talk to the people concerned directly, particularly the ones who matter most to me, but it's not the sort of thing I want to bring up in a Facebook message, and I haven't managed to catch them when I've been around online in order to really speak about it -- especially since I'd rather speak to as many people at once than deal with going through it individually.

Instead, I continue to theorise, to remind myself that there are people who do consistently choose to have me in their lives (in whatever capacity is possible at the moment) and to remind myself that these people wouldn't make that choice if I were fundamentally flawed to such a degree that I am not worthy of any friendship/caring/love.

And so... I bring this to you, dear blog friends. Have you ever felt this way? If you did, how did you handle the situation? How did other people respond to your management of same? And/or, what do you think makes some people more invisible than others and how much of the 'blame'/'responsibility' for that lies where?

Black & White Can Be Sneaky

Sometimes unexpected discoveries pop up right in the middle of something else. Today my alcohol counsellor and I were discussing some of the things going on in my life at the moment, and in the midst of explaining my concerns over something nice someone had done for me, I came out with something very similar to "I'm worried because she annoys me sometimes, but she has done this really lovely thing for me. Now that she's done this, I'll feel guilty if I get annoyed."

Instead of agreeing with me, or testing me with what skills I can use to deal with the guilt, my counsellor looked at me for a moment and asked me what kind of thinking I was using. As she reminded me of what I know about thinking styles/patterns and how some are helpful & others aren't, the cacaphony of thoughts in my head ran something like:

Does this mean she thinks it's an unhelpful thought pattern? Why is it unhelpful? Of course I'll feel guilty if I get annoyed - I should! If someone does something nice to or for me, I owe them. Having any negative feeling around/about that person is clearly a sign that I'm not grateful enough. It would be extremely rude of me to be ungrateful after such a lovely thing was done for me. Knowing that doing that will make me a Bad Person makes these thoughts helpful because now I know I have to banish all traces of annoyance and override them with the more appropriate response of gratitude.

"I think it's helpful thinking," I answered her, and went on to repeat my thoughts on the matter. My counsellor paused and I could feel her gaze centre on me.

"Did you know," she began, "that if what you just said to me were true, we would ALL be in trouble? Even me!" I laughed and she added some more thoughts. "You've just told me that because someone has done something nice for you, feeling annoyed would make you a bad person and that if you feel annoyed it would mean that you are not grateful. Do you recognise anything about this thinking?"

Suddenly, it hits me. This is all-or-nothing thinking!

And it's been sneaking in and camping out unnoticed in a lot of places lately.

I don't know why it is, but for some reason, this style of black&white thinking still doesn't show up on my radar. I've got better, I think, at recognising that style in general, but it continues to elude me when it pertains to interpersonal skills.

I can't seem to find a better way to end this, but it's late and I need to start finishing up for the night. See you all later for Sanguine Saturday!



Cheerleading/challenges:
This is a good step and I can build on it.
It's okay to not be perfect.
Being offered something (or given something, or making a mistake, or loving somebody, or...) doesn't mean I have to give away all my rights.
Just because I can find a way to justify something as helpful doesn't mean it is.



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

Turbulent Waters: I'm Really Not After A Miracle!

It's no secret that life's been a bit of a rough trot here, lately. Part of that is due to circumstances in my life right now/recently, part of it is not having medication that works properly, and another part is not having a large enough support network offline.

Whatever the reasons, though, the end result is the same: I've been struggling for a while, and things aren't getting better on their own. After yet another bout of what's being termed "severe self harm", my doctor last week decided to push for me to be seen at the free mental health clinic again. I told myself I wouldn't allow myself to hold out too much hope for a better outcome than last time, I told myself that I would be okay if/when nothing came of it.

Everyone else was so sure something would come of it. Surely. Surely, they had to see that I wasn't making it on my own now. It's been just under a year since I was closed off the books, a year since I did DBT. I've been using my skills, even this blog itself is proof of that. I fight every day to be okay. Surely they had to listen now. I started to let my hopes rise. And then I was given an intake appointment.

So I began to get more invested in the outcome. I began to believe that I had a chance at getting real help again. And then the call didn't come when I expected it.

I felt let down, but I told myself that maybe they were just busy. Maybe I misinterpreted what Intake had said, that I'd got it wrong and that they would call at a later date. A few days after I had originally expected the call, I was about to head out when my mobile rang.

"Hi C, it's [old case manager] here from mental health."

My heart skipped a beat. This was the case manager I'd worked with prior to DBT; the one I'd worked really well with and trusted. I thought she might be calling to say she'd be my case manager again.

"I just wanted to let you know what the Intake team have decided about your case. Now, you've done DBT. You clearly don't want to stop self harming, there's nothing more we can do for you. You know there's no miracle cure, medication isn't going to fix you. We have decided not to take you on."

I was gutted. Crushed. The crushed hopes were bad enough alone, but to have them crushed like that by [old case manager] was like being told by Santa Claus that he wasn't even going to bother leaving you coal. A few minutes of silence followed where I fought my tears before she added insult to injury with,

"What did you even expect to come of this? What do you want?"
"I... I don't know. I-"
"Exactly. So, bye then. Good luck with everything."

I was hurt. Betrayed. Crushed. Gutted. Afraid. For a little while I was even furious. Not just angry but actually furious! How could they? I have fought so hard for so long. I try so hard, I have made so many changes. My feelings were a confused jumble of negative emotions and I cried fairly hard at first. I pulled myself together and left for my appointments, but the emotions didn't go away. They're still right there, because this is a big hurt.

It got bigger when I went to report back to my doctor and found that mental health had got there first and read him the riot act about how manipulative Borderlines are. My formerly supportive doctor greeted me with "do you even want to stop self harm? How much?" then proceeded to tell me again that there is no miracle cure, and told me that since I have done DBT mental health are not interested in wasting their time or mine.


I am tired of being told that there is no miracle cure. I am not looking for one! I'm not afraid to put in the hard work, I've been doing that. It's not working (enough). I know medication makes a difference for me, when it works. I know that. Why won't anybody in a position to do anything about it listen to that?

Dear mental health professionals,
Please, stop assuming that because I happen to have a label with a bad rap, I fit what that label means to you. Please stop assuming that wanting medication that works for me is synonymous with "I want a miracle cure". Please stop assuming that because I'm struggling to stop self harm it means I don't want to. Please stop assuming that I have manipulated my GP into advocating for my treatment. Please just stop making harmful assumptions about me!

I'm asking for help, not a cure. If I didn't have the BPD label, you would be falling all over yourselves to help me. Your labels are supposed to be there to help, not hinder, my treatment.


And now, since mental health is again a non-option, we're back to square one. Where do I go from here? It's so tempting to give up - all the professionals have, why shouldn't I?

Because when I give up, there'll be no chance for it to get better. And because I deserve better than that. I am getting a psychologist referral, and I will take my 6-12 free sessions and do what I can with that. It's better than nothing.

And so I go on putting one foot in front of the other and doing my best to get through each day however it comes. Imperfectly, certainly, but until I can move (something that I can't do until I receive the money from my settlement over my knee which is currently held up due to an error) it's my best option.


Challenge and cheerleading statements:
* Things are not as hopeless as they seem. This isn't forever.
* This situation does not reflect my value.
* I deserve better than to give up on myself.


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

I Guess Sometimes Running Isn't The Answer

Here I am, doing the same thing I have always done, hoping for a better outcome without changing the direction of the flooding tide. There are heavy decisions hanging over my head that I am avoiding in hopes that they will make themselves; if I wait long enough, they might... but having them hanging is not making each day easier.

Avoidance. Escape. I want them; I feel as though I need them.

I know that avoidance as a coping mechanism almost all of the time falls short of "helpful" or "healthy"; and yet... It has been more than a week since I sat at my stepmother's table and shared a meal with them. I have tried to push away the thoughts, the emotions, the ideas. I have worked to build ladders against the walls of paranoia so that I can pretend they don't exist. I have built dams and wells and thrown into them the sadness, the guilt, the fear, the anger, the shame, the disgust. They continue to bubble up, bubble out and flood my brain the way the Brisbane river flooded Southbank last week. I have alternately reached out and retreated; struck out and struck in; fought and loved and hidden. And what I have done more than anything else is run. In any way I can, I have taken off running and not stopped until that panicked feeling went down a little again.

I need to find a way to control this crisis, because this became one far too quickly and far too strongly. I am in serious distress and I need to level it out enough that my skills have some impact.

I've been thinking about this all day, and I think I know how I'm going to do that. I think I know the right way to handle this, but I'm not absolutely sure. I might make it worse - but at least I will have tried... and if I don't do anything, it's still going to keep getting worse on its own.

Don't get me wrong; as much as I have avoided, I have also been trying to do what I need to, in tiny ways. I wrote a journal; I wasted about four thousand words avoiding and then I wrote a thousand words about the visit. I have mentioned that I'm struggling. And tiny ways at trying this are great, but they're not enough. if I want to keep my head above water, I need to make bigger steps.

I need to actually stop running. I need to start looking at this for what it was, and that's going to mean learning how to accept it. It's going to mean talking about it and writing about it and actually being honest about it. It's going to be uncomfortable.

But how do I voice this tangle of emotions? How do I extricate myself from the guilt, shame and disgust long enough to allow any of the other emotions a look in; or for long enough to allow anyone else in? I need to figure it out and soon.

I need to trust in my own beliefs, I need to trust in my own self; I need to let go enough to trust in the pockets of safety that there are here where the waters aren't so rough and I can rest a little.

When you are swept off your feet and carried away on the tide, how do you regain your equilibrium?

Mixed Messages: How Are You?

Today I got to thinking about my relationship with my emotions. It’s not something I usually avoid thinking about, but it’s also not something I am particularly constructive with, either, most of the time.

Several hours ago, I was logged in when a friend signed on and asked a question that sent my anxiety levels through the roof. Did she ask what to do if a prowler is in your home? What to do about some sort of medical emergency? No, it was nothing like that; nothing that big or important. In fact, all it took were a few simple words: “how are you?”

Some days, I just don’t know. Even after a year of DBT, my emotions are a relative stranger to me. I still label them incorrectly; I still struggle to see them at all; I’m incongruent; and I definitely still try to deny and hide them. I hide my emotions so well, in fact, that our DBT coordinator commented on it. “[dawni] is hard to read, yes. She’s a very good cloaker. I think, actually, she’s the best cloaker I’ve ever met.” There was a lot of power in that; I could fool a therapist I respected a lot, without even trying. Of course, the flip side of that was that, without even meaning to, I was treading on my own toes - how could anyone help me get better if they didn't have a clue what was going on?

And that is what brings me to why, today, “how are you?” set off my nerves.

If I know what I’m feeling, I’ll try my damnedest to hide it from you. Hell, I’ll try my damnedest to hide it from myself. On the other hand, I don’t like to lie. If you ask me how I am, I will feel compelled to answer you honestly – while at the same time I will feel compelled to not reveal what’s going on. If I’m lucky, I’ll have something physically going on I can hide behind. “I’m a bit tired” is probably my ‘favourite’, but “my knee hurts” gets a pretty good workout as well, these days. When my physical health isn’t an issue, though, there’s not much I can do except answer or avoid. And as much as I know that simply avoiding the question, especially after the second or third time you’ve asked, is its own answer, I am often too caught between the two answers to give a decent answer. And buried in there, underneath it all is the little thing that sparks it – fear.

I always vaguely suspect that people don’t believe me when I tell them how I am; what makes this so frustrating is that the thought is strengthened by the very behaviours it causes. Of course you’ll have trouble knowing what to believe if my words say “I hurt” and my face and body say “everything is fine”. It gets worse when, as a protective coating, out comes my humour. Now my body’s saying “I’m fine”, my face is saying “I’m fine” and my words are saying, “I’m not fine, but let’s all laugh it off”.  Talk about mixed messages! But doing otherwise, allowing my body to tell its share of the tale? That leaves me vulnerable – not just to you, but to the one thing that frightens me most of all-- myself.

If I admit, honestly, to you what is going on here in my head, I have to admit it to myself. I’m not so good at that. I seem to believe, down in my core, that if I can’t see it, it’ll go away and I’ll feel nothing. For years now, I have been on a quest to simply cease feeling. I am, if you’ll pardon the Star Trek reference, the anti-Data. He spent years trying to attain the ability to feel – I spend them trying to avoid it.

The first step, I’ve heard, is recognising the problem. If the second is to find the why, then I’m well on the way. It’s pretty easy to figure out, this one: the answer is fear.  Are you picking up on a common thread, yet? I’ll probably talk a lot about fear in here – it’s one of my big hurdles.

What does fear have to do with my relationship to my emotions? Everything! I'm afraid of my emotions - including my fear of them. Maybe even especially that one. It seems that I have a few core beliefs about emotions and/or expressing them, that still need challenging.

It is okay to feel. Whatever I feel.
It doesn't matter what lengths I go to, I will continue to feel things.
It is sometimes okay to tell others what's going on for me.