Friday, March 2, 2012

Lucid Analysis – Trials in Therapy: Double Edged

Happy Friday! I’m in a pretty good mood for no apparent reason considering I went to bed a bit late and absolutely did not want to haul myself out of bed this morning.

Med Update: I think I missed my last appointment with Psychiatrist. I’ll have to reschedule. I think I need to up the dose I’m taking for my Pristiq. I’m not in a constant funk, but my mood has definitely had a mildly depressed baseline. I mean, I’m used to that, but I’m taking drugs to fix that. So I think it’s time to adjust my meds. Still. Very happy with this medication. One amusing side effect but I’ll talk about that some other time.

Yesterday I saw Therapist. It was a very mellow session. My life seems to be taking a turn for the calm. I’m not incredibly surprised by this because I’ve essentially kicked out any cause for drama that could creep in and drive me crazy. Borderline really is a disorder of relationships. The fewer I have, the less intense they are, the easier it is for me to feel like I have a bit more control over my life.

Therapist thinks it’s because 20’s are so turbulent, but now I’m getting to a stage in my life where things begin to calm down. I don’t think so, honestly. I’ve had this feeling before. Throughout most of college actually. I knew a lot of people, but I didn’t socialize much. I was under incredible strain from school and tests, which had its own slew of disastrous effects, but I didn’t have the relationship turmoil. It was a time when I was purposefully cutting myself off from people because I’d been so, so painfully destroyed that I couldn’t fathom letting anyone close to me ever again. And I didn’t, for years. Instead I got to deal with my essence wrapping itself up in a cocoon, numb to the world, and horribly, desperately lonely. But hey, I didn’t have the drama!

Now. I’m not as lonely as I used to be. I’m still often lonely, but it doesn’t seem so crushing. My relationship with my Roommate is strong. My relationship with Tech Boy is steady. I’m extremely involved in my job.

All good things right? Please, life always has another edge.

Roommate and I talked yesterday. Our lease runs on a 6 month term. It’s renewing in 2 weeks, but she’s going to tell the landlords that she won’t be completing it. She’s going to be moving out in 2-3 months (I’ll still be finishing out the lease). When she brought it up my heart just sank. Stupidly since she hadn’t mentioned it in almost 5 months, and since we’d been hanging out so much more, I was having some hope that maybe she didn’t want to leave. Things have been awesome in the apartment, even moreso than usual. Hanging out more, big dinners and movie nights almost every week, talking a lot more. I really hoped that she wouldn’t want to leave. I know it’s stupid. She’s at a time in her life when she needs to do something for herself, but it still feels like an abandonment. She’s going to be around to talk to everyday. Even if we just say ‘Hi, how’s your day’. I won’t have her presence in the apartment anymore. It won’t be so easy to just hangout. She always has a ton of plans with her boyfriend. I’m afraid she won’t have time to hang out with me as they get more and more serious. I just don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her. I feel like it’s a very real possibility that I’ll slip into obscurity and drift off into the void of friendships forgotten if I’m not always around.

I’m also worried that the cats will be sad that they’re being separated. My cat is gonna lose his buddy but he’s lived without other cats most of his life. My roommate’s cat has always had mine to play with and now he’s going to be all by himself. I’m worried about my cats feeling abandonment for crying out loud! Though to be fair, my cat does seem to have abandonment issues, haha. How fitting! People tell me all the time that he’ll sit and cry at the door after I leave, and he’ll race to me as soon as I walk back in.


Things with Tech Boy have been going nicely. I told Therapist about the conversation we had on Saturday in regards to the hitting things still upsetting him. She was really happy to hear that he felt that way, and hear that he regretted it, recognizes and respects my boundaries and all that jazz. He did another super cute thing (I thought) that night. He smokes when he’s drinking. I quit about 4 months ago but I’ll have a hit of his cigarette if I’ve had a few drinks. We were sitting outside and he stopped, looked at his cigarette, and was like, “I’m being a bad influence on you. You quit. You’re really focusing on being healthy. It’s not good for you because of your birth control (all things I’ve told him), and I’m still doing this. I hate it. When I move into my new place I’m just going to stop buying them, no matter what.” I thought that was silly sweet.

I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. I keep looking for the monster in the closet and wondering when it’s going to come out. Therapist doesn’t think it will. She thinks it sounds like he really does care about me.  Whenever we’re together we talk non stop about everything. We joke around. Have a good time. Our chemistry is wonderful. I like him. Admitting that out loud is hard. And scary.

 It feels like if I admit it out loud it will hurt more if it falls apart.

Therapist was proud of me for being able to talk to Tech Boy about my boundaries and concerns. If you’ve read my previous posts this week, I was talking about why it’s often hard to speak up. I’m trying to take my own advice here. Miracle of miracles, it seems to have turned out better than I could have ever imagined! I hold things in, I never say anything, I just let the hurt build and build…. I have a very long fuse for this. By the time I’ve reached the point where I absolutely cannot take it anymore it’s often too late to really fix anything. That’s part of what happened when I exploded at Friend. He hadn’t been treating me well but I wasn’t letting him know. I’d just been taking so much hurt on top of hurt from them for so long, finally I just couldn’t anymore and I imagine he felt like all of this just came out of nowhere.

Live and learn. Fortunately when I’ve let things go on for so long and I’ve hit my breaking point, the actual break doesn’t feel so bad. I’d been hurting for so long that it was almost a relief to not invest in the pain that relationship was causing me. The fear of losing that relationship was worse than the actual ending of that relationship. In fact, I feel less burdened now.

He’s being passive-aggressive in trying to get my attention though, which frankly, I find highly, highly amusing. Not directly attempting to get my attention, but attempting to force his presence into arenas where he knows I’ll notice so that he’s somehow in my face. Hah. Go go defense mechanisms. I don’t feel jack shit for you anymore buddy. Buh bye.

Seriously though, if he wants to talk to me. He needs to man up and say something. I’m not playing these games.

Work. Psychotically stressed out. Psychotically productive. I have days that go so fast because every single second is filled with an intense amount of work piles on top of an intense amount of work. After about 3 days of this though, it’s like my brain breaks. Just shuts down. Staring at my monitor makes my eyes ache. I can’t focus, I can hardly make myself think, let alone act.

Me: Why is this so hard? Why am I so stressed out all the time?

My Brain: Babe, you’re a rocket scientist working on some of the most advanced particle physics research in the world. Why do you THINK you’re so stressed?

Me: Oh yeah. Good point.

Therapist loved it when I told her this. It was a neat, swift little kick in the ass to validate myself and give myself credit for all the work that I’m doing. This is a very good DBT technique and she’s proud that I’m using them on my own, without prompting.

I’m so hard on myself. Therapist said she’s met very few people that are harder on themselves than I am. I have this NEED for perfection. If I don’t think what I’m doing is perfect, I fear complete rejection. If I don’t think I can do something perfectly, I beat up on myself. This just makes it even harder to push through and try. I’m not punishing myself at least. When I was at University if I ‘failed’ to achieve a score I believed was acceptable, I’d beat myself up, berate myself, cut myself, hurt myself to provide incentive to be better next time. I still have these thoughts, but they’re not as pervasive. Not so demanding as they once were. Not as frequent either. They buzz around in the back of my brain, but I can swat them away and try to focus on something more constructive. It seems to be getting easier to.

Not going to lie. A big motivation to not hurt myself often comes from the fear of having someone see. Roommate has seen me, held me, and brought me bandages before, and still wants to be my friend. I know she can handle it but I don’t want to burden her with it. Tech Boy on the other hand. I don’t think he would really be able to understand at all, and I don’t want him to see that. He’s mentioned my scars once and I explained them briefly, but I’ve never gone into deep detail. I don’t want to. If my wounds are all old{er} he doesn’t have present cause for concern. He sees me naked on a pretty regular basis. There just is no hiding that from him. So I don’t do anything I’d feel a need to hide.

Someday I hope I get to a place inside myself where I don’t want to hurt myself for me, not for fear of anyone else. But like I said, these thoughts are diminishing. They’re tiny, tiny thoughts compared to the overpowering obsession with physical pain to blot out the emotional torment I used to feel. I’m not so numb anymore that I need the physical reminder that I am, in fact, still alive. I’m learning to redirect my punitive need to punish myself into more constructive ways (mostly exercise, painting, writing… stuff like that). Some day. I’ll get there. It doesn’t happen fast. But it happens.

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