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.
Showing posts with label honesty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label honesty. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Tsunami (Otherwise known as "Where I'm At")
Some of you may know/remember that November is often a difficult month for me, and despite last year's improvement, this year was something of a set-back. I don't know how obvious it's been (either here or elsewhere), but my mental health has been declining for quite some time. There were several things feeding it, including another visit with my father, but the result is that for particularly the last several months, I've been very unwell.
I've been increasingly paranoid, guilty and ashamed, and withdrawing/guarding my comments, because my thoughts lead me to believe I'm unwanted anyway -- every comment or lack of comment has looked like a closed door; I've been losing large chunks of time and not even realising it; the hallucinations that are part of either my depression or the BPD, and indeed my entire sense of reality, have all gradually spiralled out of control; and all my efforts to right the roller coaster have only confused the issues more.
As a result of all this, after what had been I think around 3 years, I was admitted to the hospital's psychiatric unit for just over a week. I suppose I think that if I had just worked harder at being well, if I had tried harder, this wouldn't have happened. I find myself feeling deeply ashamed to have been admitted back there when I know that I don't think badly of anyone else who is admitted.
The upshot of all this is that my medication and my diagnosis have both been changed, and that there is talk of more intensive support being available, especially since the program I've been seeing my private psychologist (Sonia) under has now ended, leaving me with four sessions until next year (quite a drop since I had been seeing her 2 to 3 times a week). I'm not certain exactly what that support will entail but there was mention of a case manager to help organise some sort of housing, a public psychiatrist once a month or so and someone from the Mobile Intensive Treatment team to see a couple of times a week.
In the meantime, what I do know is that I've been put back onto Avanza (mirtazapine) - though how long that will last (as its sedating effects are already beginning to wear off) remains to be seen - and my diagnosis has been officially changed to also include Dissociative Identities Disorder. I must admit, it feels quite surreal to have that on my record after spending 12 years knowing but undiagnosed. I'm still sorting through how I feel about it, that's for sure.
There's been a lot of upheaval. There's still a lot of upheaval. I'm doing better than I was prior to my admission, but I'm still very unwell and struggling with many of the same issues I was having difficulty with before I went into hospital.
I've been increasingly paranoid, guilty and ashamed, and withdrawing/guarding my comments, because my thoughts lead me to believe I'm unwanted anyway -- every comment or lack of comment has looked like a closed door; I've been losing large chunks of time and not even realising it; the hallucinations that are part of either my depression or the BPD, and indeed my entire sense of reality, have all gradually spiralled out of control; and all my efforts to right the roller coaster have only confused the issues more.
As a result of all this, after what had been I think around 3 years, I was admitted to the hospital's psychiatric unit for just over a week. I suppose I think that if I had just worked harder at being well, if I had tried harder, this wouldn't have happened. I find myself feeling deeply ashamed to have been admitted back there when I know that I don't think badly of anyone else who is admitted.
The upshot of all this is that my medication and my diagnosis have both been changed, and that there is talk of more intensive support being available, especially since the program I've been seeing my private psychologist (Sonia) under has now ended, leaving me with four sessions until next year (quite a drop since I had been seeing her 2 to 3 times a week). I'm not certain exactly what that support will entail but there was mention of a case manager to help organise some sort of housing, a public psychiatrist once a month or so and someone from the Mobile Intensive Treatment team to see a couple of times a week.
In the meantime, what I do know is that I've been put back onto Avanza (mirtazapine) - though how long that will last (as its sedating effects are already beginning to wear off) remains to be seen - and my diagnosis has been officially changed to also include Dissociative Identities Disorder. I must admit, it feels quite surreal to have that on my record after spending 12 years knowing but undiagnosed. I'm still sorting through how I feel about it, that's for sure.
There's been a lot of upheaval. There's still a lot of upheaval. I'm doing better than I was prior to my admission, but I'm still very unwell and struggling with many of the same issues I was having difficulty with before I went into hospital.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Children & Self Harm/Scars
I know that some people feel that self harm needs to be hidden, that those who don't hide their scars merely harm for attention; and I know others that believe self harm should be hidden from children even if there's no shame attached to it. I don't believe that. I think it's important to protect children but I don't think that hiding the dirty parts of reality is the best way to do that.
My family are halfway between those. I know they're ashamed of my scars, and they don't believe I should wear clothing that makes them visible. I know also that my family cares deeply about my nieces and my nephew, that we all want to protect them and give them the best start we can. Unfortunately, those two things together mean that I don't have permission to be honest with my nieces and nephew.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not at all proposing that it would be appropriate or acceptable to tell a toddler that "aunty cuts herself to feel better" or anything of the sort. These things need to be explained in an age appropriate manner, and there are a lot of considerations involved. However, at some point, you have to recognise that a child isn't going to be satisfied with "it was an accident" or an outright lie, and at 10 and 7, the miracle was that my nieces hadn't yet been unsatisified with the answers they were receiving.
I worried, I researched. I told my brother he needed to talk to his (now ex) wife and tell me how much they were comfortable with me sharing. I'm still waiting for the okay, my nieces are still being fobbed off with "I got hurt", and they want more.
I wear an arm sleeve, a leg sleeve, a pair of bike pants and a stomach patch (when I can find it) -- if I want to go, for example swimming, I can't wear any of these. If I want to wash the dishes, I have to take my arm sleeve off... and this is the situation I found myself facing a week ago at my brother's house.
My niece asked a few questions, I answered as best I can given the limitation of sticking to what my brother and his (ex) wife have decreed is acceptable, and my beautiful girl wasn't satisfied. She asked more and more and instead of accepting that his daughter is showing a healthy level of curiosity, my brother sent her to her room because he and I had run out of lies to fob her off with.
I have a response that I am far more comfortable with, I just need permission to use it. In a world where I could get my family to accept that my scars aren't going to disappear, that I don't do this because I like the attention or that I'm out to show the world what a terrible home life I have because I'm a vindictive bitch, I would tell my niece something much closer to the truth. In a world where I have permission to be honest, this is what I would tell my nieces (and maybe my nephew as well):
Remember last time you got sick, and the doctor looked at your throat and listened to your heart to see what was wrong? Sometimes people get sick inside their brain and you can't see it on their bodies. Aunty is sick like that and I have been for a long time. Sometimes it's like I'm not sick at all but sometimes I get very sick and I do things that mean my body gets hurt.
It's age appropriate. It's easy to understand. They can ask questions that I can actually answer in age appropriate ways. Instead of shame and blame, they learn understanding. It opens the door for me to reassure them, and it opens the door for the future when they may deal with mental illness themselves. And above all, it's honest. It means I'm not lying to a child who's going to one day realise and wonder why and what else everyone's lied to her about.
What about you? What are your thoughts on children and SI scars/injuries? What will or have you said to the children in your life about your self harm/scars - or what have you said about someone else's? Does it (or would it) change if you were having to explain new injuries or old scars?
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.
My family are halfway between those. I know they're ashamed of my scars, and they don't believe I should wear clothing that makes them visible. I know also that my family cares deeply about my nieces and my nephew, that we all want to protect them and give them the best start we can. Unfortunately, those two things together mean that I don't have permission to be honest with my nieces and nephew.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not at all proposing that it would be appropriate or acceptable to tell a toddler that "aunty cuts herself to feel better" or anything of the sort. These things need to be explained in an age appropriate manner, and there are a lot of considerations involved. However, at some point, you have to recognise that a child isn't going to be satisfied with "it was an accident" or an outright lie, and at 10 and 7, the miracle was that my nieces hadn't yet been unsatisified with the answers they were receiving.
I worried, I researched. I told my brother he needed to talk to his (now ex) wife and tell me how much they were comfortable with me sharing. I'm still waiting for the okay, my nieces are still being fobbed off with "I got hurt", and they want more.
I wear an arm sleeve, a leg sleeve, a pair of bike pants and a stomach patch (when I can find it) -- if I want to go, for example swimming, I can't wear any of these. If I want to wash the dishes, I have to take my arm sleeve off... and this is the situation I found myself facing a week ago at my brother's house.
My niece asked a few questions, I answered as best I can given the limitation of sticking to what my brother and his (ex) wife have decreed is acceptable, and my beautiful girl wasn't satisfied. She asked more and more and instead of accepting that his daughter is showing a healthy level of curiosity, my brother sent her to her room because he and I had run out of lies to fob her off with.
I have a response that I am far more comfortable with, I just need permission to use it. In a world where I could get my family to accept that my scars aren't going to disappear, that I don't do this because I like the attention or that I'm out to show the world what a terrible home life I have because I'm a vindictive bitch, I would tell my niece something much closer to the truth. In a world where I have permission to be honest, this is what I would tell my nieces (and maybe my nephew as well):
Remember last time you got sick, and the doctor looked at your throat and listened to your heart to see what was wrong? Sometimes people get sick inside their brain and you can't see it on their bodies. Aunty is sick like that and I have been for a long time. Sometimes it's like I'm not sick at all but sometimes I get very sick and I do things that mean my body gets hurt.
It's age appropriate. It's easy to understand. They can ask questions that I can actually answer in age appropriate ways. Instead of shame and blame, they learn understanding. It opens the door for me to reassure them, and it opens the door for the future when they may deal with mental illness themselves. And above all, it's honest. It means I'm not lying to a child who's going to one day realise and wonder why and what else everyone's lied to her about.
What about you? What are your thoughts on children and SI scars/injuries? What will or have you said to the children in your life about your self harm/scars - or what have you said about someone else's? Does it (or would it) change if you were having to explain new injuries or old scars?
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Why "White Lies" Aren't/Balancing Honesty & Protection Of Feelings
I used to be diplomatic, tactful, considerate. I would like to say I'm still those things, but it's become more important than ever before to me to be, above all else, honest. Now, don't get me wrong. Honesty has always been important to me - I just never before understood how damaging a 'white lie' could be.
Today I was asked if I considered a particular person a friend. Now, I don't know this person well. We do not have heart-to-heart conversations. I don't know what makes her tick any more than she knows what makes me tick. I do not know her favourite colour, what sort of food she likes to eat, or how she feels about ice cream. I do not know that when I am hurting, I can go to her and ask for comfort, or seek laughter or advice that is given knowing my situation and with my best interests at heart. She has never given me any indication to make me believe that she would consider me a friend.
In all honesty, I don't know her well enough to count her as a friend, and so I considered my options before replying. In the past, I would have immediately responded "of course you're my friend" so that I didn't hurt their feelings, and I'm sure there are people out there thinking that that is exactly what I should have said now, too. I didn't. I gave it thought and eventually I went with what amounted to "I don't know you well enough to consider you a friend, but you are someone I am interested in getting to know further".
I didn't feel that it was too horrible a thing to say, but it lead to an amount of uproar. I'm still confused. I recognise that there is a balance between being honest and being hurtful, but I cannot for the life of me seem to find it. Contrary to what seems to be public opinion of me these days, I have no desire to hurt anyone.
In fact, not wanting to hurt others is part of the reason honesty is so important to me at the moment. As I journey into my own recovery, I am beginning to recognise all the ways "white lies" have damaged my relationships and my self, and most specifically, my ability to trust -- not just you, but my ability to trust myself.
If I dress in a skirt that looks hideous on me and I ask you what you think, chances are that I suspect it may not be the most flattering piece of clothing I've ever tried. If you go on to tell me it looks fabulous, I learn to doubt my "intuition" that the skirt doesn't look good. Later, someone else may tell me how hideous it looks, and that opens the door to doubting your motives, your friendship, whether I should trust you in future. And even if I decide not to trust you in future, that initial seed of doubt in myself will still be there.
Trust is incredibly important to me. It's not something I've ever been able to have much control over in the past, but I'm learning. And one of the things I've learned about myself is that my ability to trust is tempered by the amount of times someone's lied to me.
White lies are damaging because they are lies and lies are an abuse of trust.
So, my purpose in writing this is twofold. One, to remind myself of why honesty is so important to me, and two, to ask how you balance honesty and protection of other peoples' feelings. Is there a line? I don't need you to agree with my P.O.V., but if you're going to offer criticism I do ask that you be constructive. "I think your way is hurtful. Next time you could try x" is helpful, "your way is mean" is not. I want very much to figure this out, for years I have prided myself on my interpersonal skills (despite my seeming inability to keep friends) and this struggle to find balance and keep people happy now that I'm actually expressing some apparently unpopular opinions is very upsetting to me.
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.
Today I was asked if I considered a particular person a friend. Now, I don't know this person well. We do not have heart-to-heart conversations. I don't know what makes her tick any more than she knows what makes me tick. I do not know her favourite colour, what sort of food she likes to eat, or how she feels about ice cream. I do not know that when I am hurting, I can go to her and ask for comfort, or seek laughter or advice that is given knowing my situation and with my best interests at heart. She has never given me any indication to make me believe that she would consider me a friend.
In all honesty, I don't know her well enough to count her as a friend, and so I considered my options before replying. In the past, I would have immediately responded "of course you're my friend" so that I didn't hurt their feelings, and I'm sure there are people out there thinking that that is exactly what I should have said now, too. I didn't. I gave it thought and eventually I went with what amounted to "I don't know you well enough to consider you a friend, but you are someone I am interested in getting to know further".
I didn't feel that it was too horrible a thing to say, but it lead to an amount of uproar. I'm still confused. I recognise that there is a balance between being honest and being hurtful, but I cannot for the life of me seem to find it. Contrary to what seems to be public opinion of me these days, I have no desire to hurt anyone.
In fact, not wanting to hurt others is part of the reason honesty is so important to me at the moment. As I journey into my own recovery, I am beginning to recognise all the ways "white lies" have damaged my relationships and my self, and most specifically, my ability to trust -- not just you, but my ability to trust myself.
If I dress in a skirt that looks hideous on me and I ask you what you think, chances are that I suspect it may not be the most flattering piece of clothing I've ever tried. If you go on to tell me it looks fabulous, I learn to doubt my "intuition" that the skirt doesn't look good. Later, someone else may tell me how hideous it looks, and that opens the door to doubting your motives, your friendship, whether I should trust you in future. And even if I decide not to trust you in future, that initial seed of doubt in myself will still be there.
Trust is incredibly important to me. It's not something I've ever been able to have much control over in the past, but I'm learning. And one of the things I've learned about myself is that my ability to trust is tempered by the amount of times someone's lied to me.
White lies are damaging because they are lies and lies are an abuse of trust.
So, my purpose in writing this is twofold. One, to remind myself of why honesty is so important to me, and two, to ask how you balance honesty and protection of other peoples' feelings. Is there a line? I don't need you to agree with my P.O.V., but if you're going to offer criticism I do ask that you be constructive. "I think your way is hurtful. Next time you could try x" is helpful, "your way is mean" is not. I want very much to figure this out, for years I have prided myself on my interpersonal skills (despite my seeming inability to keep friends) and this struggle to find balance and keep people happy now that I'm actually expressing some apparently unpopular opinions is very upsetting to me.
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.
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