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.
Showing posts with label questions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label questions. Show all posts
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Saturday, May 26, 2012
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?
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?
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Who deserves help? (Or: "You've just tried to braise a pork chop in the toaster")
The other day I came home from my session with my alcohol counsellor with a fair bit to think about. After a bit of mulling it over, I decided to ask a group of people what the term "coping" means to them. I got a large number of answers, but only one that I was really looking for - but it didn't match my definition of it, either. The question (and the answers) sparked a different conversation with a good friend, about who deserves help and when -- on, of course, a more personal note.
Some of the things that came up for me in this discussion were some issues/concerns and some beliefs I hold that I've been challenging without fully recognising:
I think coping is equal to feeling like there's a reason to keep living/fighting, not struggling all the time emotionally, and I think I believe that the only people who 'deserve' help are those who aren't coping.
I am scared that Mental Health are right and that if I just tried hard enough, I'd be able to pull myself together and build a life worth living in a much shorter time frame than I'm currently managing.
I get upset when my counsellor says I'm coping well because I don't fit my own definition of what coping is, and I use that definition as my "proof" that I can check on to see if I'm allowed to ask for help (such as by seeing a counsellor).
I decided the bigger part of the discussion stands pretty well on its own merit in the form it's already in, with a few edits for clarity, conciseness or just punctuation/grammar (not even sharing of IRC logs allows for completely rubbish grammar on my blog!). That said, I should probably warn you - don't read on an empty stomach! Someone was clearly hungry! ;)
F(riend): Let's say you and I are taking a cooking class. It's the final test, they've told us to cook this outrageously complicated meal and we have two hours. I'm buzzing along, I know exactly what I'm doing, I'm doing it all right, but I'm a bit slow. You suck. You can't tell your ass from your apples and you've just tried to braise a pork chop in the toaster. When the chef comes along, who should get more help?
M(e): Me. Or someone should take me out of the running!
F: Yes. I'm doing alright on my own and would benefit from some assistance and if I want it, I should get it, but you aren't doing well at all. You're so confused and overwhelmed that not only will you not get your braised pork chops with apples and onions out on time, you will probably deliver - late - grilled cheese. And have absolutely no idea how you did it.
(This is, truthfully, almost how I cook for real! Analogy and reality crossover!)
F: Clearly you didn't get the skills you needed in Chef school so you should probably go back and try again. Both of us, however, are better off than the third chef who has all her ingredients, all her pans and spoons and things prepared, plenty of help and plenty of time... and is sitting there filing her nails instead. She does not deserve help, in my opinion.
F: This analogy carries over. Anyone with any interest at all in improving, no matter where they're starting - from "almost an expert but needs a nudge" to "ass over breakfast", deserves to have assistance. Some of us need more than others, some of us GET more than others but it comes in the form of a troupe of angry 6 year olds who think they're gourmet Chefs - not very helpful and a bit baffling as to how they can manage to hurt your feelings so much they're just tetchy little midgets, but that's what happens when they send you to the primary school for cooking lessons.
F: It's not like you went in there incompetent and came out incompetent. You went in unable to even open the bag of bread for peanut butter and jelly, and now you're making French toast. But there's only so much you can learn from idiots.
F: It's unfortunate that you happened to be in a place where the help they offered you was provided by baboons in diapers, but
a) you did learn many, many things from them... you took what you were given and you made something useful, which says not much about them but hours and hours of things about you, and
b) they've treated you pretty poorly, which is unfortunate, and I wish I knew why, but it doesn't really matter. What they have to offer, you have gotten. Until they learn the right way to put the sausage in the pan, they can hardly teach you to make the rest of breakfast.
Ignoring the somewhat hostile (but quite amusing!) view she has of the mental health professionals that have been involved in the main part of my care, she made some very important points:
It doesn't matter what "level" you're at, if you need the help, you deserve it. I was able to learn things, and that's good, but not having learned everything there is to know about how to build a better life for myself doesn't mean I need to be beating myself up for it.
Challenges & Cheerleading:
Just because I fit my counsellor's definition of coping doesn't mean I don't deserve to ask for help.
It's okay to not be perfect.
I have equal worth to others.
What does coping mean to you? Does your definition change if you apply it universally (as opposed to self-application only)? What defines "need" in terms of asking for or receiving help? What are your thoughts on the analogy and the message behind it?
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.
Some of the things that came up for me in this discussion were some issues/concerns and some beliefs I hold that I've been challenging without fully recognising:
I think coping is equal to feeling like there's a reason to keep living/fighting, not struggling all the time emotionally, and I think I believe that the only people who 'deserve' help are those who aren't coping.
I am scared that Mental Health are right and that if I just tried hard enough, I'd be able to pull myself together and build a life worth living in a much shorter time frame than I'm currently managing.
I get upset when my counsellor says I'm coping well because I don't fit my own definition of what coping is, and I use that definition as my "proof" that I can check on to see if I'm allowed to ask for help (such as by seeing a counsellor).
I decided the bigger part of the discussion stands pretty well on its own merit in the form it's already in, with a few edits for clarity, conciseness or just punctuation/grammar (not even sharing of IRC logs allows for completely rubbish grammar on my blog!). That said, I should probably warn you - don't read on an empty stomach! Someone was clearly hungry! ;)
F(riend): Let's say you and I are taking a cooking class. It's the final test, they've told us to cook this outrageously complicated meal and we have two hours. I'm buzzing along, I know exactly what I'm doing, I'm doing it all right, but I'm a bit slow. You suck. You can't tell your ass from your apples and you've just tried to braise a pork chop in the toaster. When the chef comes along, who should get more help?
M(e): Me. Or someone should take me out of the running!
F: Yes. I'm doing alright on my own and would benefit from some assistance and if I want it, I should get it, but you aren't doing well at all. You're so confused and overwhelmed that not only will you not get your braised pork chops with apples and onions out on time, you will probably deliver - late - grilled cheese. And have absolutely no idea how you did it.
(This is, truthfully, almost how I cook for real! Analogy and reality crossover!)
F: Clearly you didn't get the skills you needed in Chef school so you should probably go back and try again. Both of us, however, are better off than the third chef who has all her ingredients, all her pans and spoons and things prepared, plenty of help and plenty of time... and is sitting there filing her nails instead. She does not deserve help, in my opinion.
F: This analogy carries over. Anyone with any interest at all in improving, no matter where they're starting - from "almost an expert but needs a nudge" to "ass over breakfast", deserves to have assistance. Some of us need more than others, some of us GET more than others but it comes in the form of a troupe of angry 6 year olds who think they're gourmet Chefs - not very helpful and a bit baffling as to how they can manage to hurt your feelings so much they're just tetchy little midgets, but that's what happens when they send you to the primary school for cooking lessons.
F: It's not like you went in there incompetent and came out incompetent. You went in unable to even open the bag of bread for peanut butter and jelly, and now you're making French toast. But there's only so much you can learn from idiots.
F: It's unfortunate that you happened to be in a place where the help they offered you was provided by baboons in diapers, but
a) you did learn many, many things from them... you took what you were given and you made something useful, which says not much about them but hours and hours of things about you, and
b) they've treated you pretty poorly, which is unfortunate, and I wish I knew why, but it doesn't really matter. What they have to offer, you have gotten. Until they learn the right way to put the sausage in the pan, they can hardly teach you to make the rest of breakfast.
Ignoring the somewhat hostile (but quite amusing!) view she has of the mental health professionals that have been involved in the main part of my care, she made some very important points:
It doesn't matter what "level" you're at, if you need the help, you deserve it. I was able to learn things, and that's good, but not having learned everything there is to know about how to build a better life for myself doesn't mean I need to be beating myself up for it.
Challenges & Cheerleading:
Just because I fit my counsellor's definition of coping doesn't mean I don't deserve to ask for help.
It's okay to not be perfect.
I have equal worth to others.
What does coping mean to you? Does your definition change if you apply it universally (as opposed to self-application only)? What defines "need" in terms of asking for or receiving help? What are your thoughts on the analogy and the message behind it?
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.
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.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Learning Experiences: Lies and Omissions
Lately, life seems to be throwing a whole bunch of pretty big learning experiences my way. They're not always pleasant; in truth, most of them have been very unpleasant; but viewing them as learning experiences makes it easier to bear the uncomfortableness.
I've had the opportunity to learn about life, people, and most of all, to learn about myself. Today I'd like to explore something I started to write yesterday...
Is it ever acceptable and okay to lie? Certainly a large part of me doesn't think so, but my instinctive reaction isn't always in accordance with that. Case in point, this morning. I got up and got myself ready at the dawn of stupid o'clock, ready for my morning appointment. As I was leaving, my mother saw me. Once I had confirmed to her that I was headed to the hospital, my mother followed it up with, "done it again then, I take it?"
I won't go into all of the thoughts and feelings a comment like that brings up for me (that would be a post all on its own, I think); but I will say that before I'd even properly taken in the question, before I'd even properly understood what she was asking, the word "no" was already on my lips.
I ask myself again, "is it ever acceptable and okay to lie?", and this time I begin to speculate about abusive situations. What do I really believe? Is it okay to lie if you're going to be abused if you don't? Is it okay to lie if telling the truth endangers your life? I'm still not sure.
I read The Kite Runner not so long ago, and one particular paragraph from that has truly stuck with me:
"There is only one sin, only one. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft....When you kill a man, you steal a life. You steal his wife's right to a husband, rob his children of a father. When you tell a lie, you steal someone's right to the truth. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness."
I don't feel okay about lying to my mother. Technically I told her the truth; I had my appointment when I did because that was when the OTs would be working. I also omitted a large portion of the truth - I had "done it again", (although it was three weeks ago). I didn't lie for gain; I lied for my emotional well-being and her protection... but that doesn't make it right. Is stealing someone's right to the truth really any better than stealing someone's right to be safe? I still don't know.
So now I ask you, is it ever acceptable or okay to lie? How much (if any) omission makes something a lie?
I've had the opportunity to learn about life, people, and most of all, to learn about myself. Today I'd like to explore something I started to write yesterday...
Is it ever acceptable and okay to lie? Certainly a large part of me doesn't think so, but my instinctive reaction isn't always in accordance with that. Case in point, this morning. I got up and got myself ready at the dawn of stupid o'clock, ready for my morning appointment. As I was leaving, my mother saw me. Once I had confirmed to her that I was headed to the hospital, my mother followed it up with, "done it again then, I take it?"
I won't go into all of the thoughts and feelings a comment like that brings up for me (that would be a post all on its own, I think); but I will say that before I'd even properly taken in the question, before I'd even properly understood what she was asking, the word "no" was already on my lips.
I ask myself again, "is it ever acceptable and okay to lie?", and this time I begin to speculate about abusive situations. What do I really believe? Is it okay to lie if you're going to be abused if you don't? Is it okay to lie if telling the truth endangers your life? I'm still not sure.
I read The Kite Runner not so long ago, and one particular paragraph from that has truly stuck with me:
"There is only one sin, only one. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft....When you kill a man, you steal a life. You steal his wife's right to a husband, rob his children of a father. When you tell a lie, you steal someone's right to the truth. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness."
I don't feel okay about lying to my mother. Technically I told her the truth; I had my appointment when I did because that was when the OTs would be working. I also omitted a large portion of the truth - I had "done it again", (although it was three weeks ago). I didn't lie for gain; I lied for my emotional well-being and her protection... but that doesn't make it right. Is stealing someone's right to the truth really any better than stealing someone's right to be safe? I still don't know.
So now I ask you, is it ever acceptable or okay to lie? How much (if any) omission makes something a lie?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
