I’ve Been Here Before

DISCLAIMER: All names in this post have been changed for privacy reasons. 

The hours tick by. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Seven hours since you said you need a week long break from me. Seven hours out of 168. Only 161 left. Right? Honestly, I’m not sure. That’s the worst part. The truth is my BPD is running rampant right now, and my fear of abandonment is crippling. 

I’ve been here before. This same corner of this same couch has caught more of my tears than you know... than you may ever know. There it is! The panic swells inside my chest again. My breath becomes labored. My eyes sting as I fight back the tears. Oh yes. I have been here. The soft hum of the electronics is the only thing I hear, but they sound so loud that I want to run. So, I throw on my jacket, go out into the crisp fall evening, and smoke a cigarette. Yes, I’ve been here before. My mind repeats it one last time for good measure. See, I have to remind myself that I know what to do. I have to remind myself that I have indeed been here before. I have to remind myself to respect the boundaries you have set as BPD screams inside my head that I don’t because you are leaving. It screams that the last time I saw you or the last time I spoke to you really was the last time. It screams that you are like Stephen and Anthony, that you have left and aren’t coming back. It screams that I screwed up again, but I force myself to take a long drag off my cigarette and hear as years of mindfulness work breaks through, “I have been here before.”

That sentence on repeat slows the panic and the dread ever so slightly. Enough for some mindfulness work to take place. Write it down. Document it. Remember. What did you do with Stephen? Remember. You have to remember. He set boundaries too. He took a break too. What did you do?  And then it is back again. The terrible, awful voice of borderline personality disorder telling me that I wasn’t good enough to keep them. That I was too messed up for them to love, too messed up for them to stay by my side as my friend as they swore they would. Maybe I am too messed up. Maybe you deserve better. I know you do. Deep down I know you deserve better. Everyone does, including myself, but I have to live with this. You don’t. You can leave. The panic swells again. “I’ve been here before.” This time I speak it aloud. I cannot continue the cycle. Cannot continue to ride this messy carousel of pain. Then, I remember. Stephen asked for space, and I never gave it. Never allowed him time to decompress. Never allowed him time away. I was desperate, so desperate, to fix it, to fix us, to keep him. I feel that same fear now. That same desperation, but I don’t move. I just light another cigarette. I have to respect the boundaries because chasing Stephen made it worse. The moment I stepped over the boundary he was gone.

One. Two. Three. Everything happens in threes. Are you the third? The third really great friend that I have run off with my insanity? “I’ve been here before.” I’m clinging to sanity but barely. I refuse to cross your boundary. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is the time I get it right. I smile slightly. Maybe. Then, the smile fades. I can do my part this time. It feels like it will kill me, but I know I can do it. Stay in my lane. Not cross over. I can do that. For this friendship, I can do that. Then I hear it. The tortured voice of the broken part of me... “but you’ve been here before.”

I’m Not a Princess

“You’re not a princess, Aunt Sarah.”

Those are the words uttered by my 5-year-old niece when I told her I would be playing Allana in The Little Mermaid. For those of you who don’t know the names listed in  the song “Daughters of Triton” Allana is one of Ariel’s older sisters, which means Allana is in fact a Disney Princess. The show is currently running (2 weekends left... get your tickets at jccommunitytheatre.org), and I still struggle with this aspect of the character. Actually, I struggle with most aspects of the character. You see... I agree with my niece. I am NOT a princess, and I most definitely am not a Disney Princess. 

I am 32. I am morbidly obese. I am less than pretty. The only thing I have going for me is a singing voice that the good Lord decided to bless me with... and a big heart that loves people. That’s it. So, prior to every performance, I paint my face, put on my costume, and lock myself in the paint room at the theatre to steel my nerves. Not because I have stage fright, but because I accepted a role that I am physically uncomfortable playing. I call myself the whale-sister instead a mersister because that’s how I feel, but I force myself to put on an air of being comfortable in my own skin because that is one of things we are trying to achieve with this production. Showing people that no matter your age, race, sexual identity, or size you can be whatever it is you want to be. Sometimes, I think this is more for me than any audience member because I struggle so much with my body image. 

I have tried to lose weight. Believe me. I’ll try again and again, but until I can find that love for myself that I so freely give to others, it won’t stick. I know this because it is the first thing anyone will tell you about weight loss. So, for now, I will step on that stage, mid panic attack, uncomfortable with who I am, and deliver a performance that makes audiences feel like they are represented because they are! That’s the beauty of it! Honestly, I LOVE what we are doing! I just wish I would have declined the role 90% of the time. 

I know this probably doesn’t make sense. I know people never really read my blog anyone. I know there are people who will say, “Sarah’s having a BPD moment and asking for validation.” Does my BPD make this harder? Absolutely, but I’ve done the work enough to know the difference. This is me expressing my feelings about something that is affecting me. No more. No less. Does validation feel good? Absolutely. I wouldn’t human if I said no... with or without BPD. But validation is not my end game. My end game is to express how I feel and acknowledge those feelings in order to hopefully let them go in a healthy way. 

For now... I’m proud of myself for doing this in spite of being uncomfortable. It is only through the pain that we grow. 

The Hardest Phrase I Have Ever Uttered

I am sitting in my car. My phone is charging. It is raining, and I am doing my best to type this post. The words refuse to come to express the emotions I am feeling. Mid-life crisis sounds too cliche. Anxiety, depression, borderline personality disorder: they all sound irrelevant as I work so hard to combat them every single day. No, this is deeper yet more surface. It is dashed dreams, broken promises, and a grief I never knew I could feel. It is a battle for acceptance of a situation that I am uncertain I can win. It is trying my best to believe God’s plan for me is exactly what He wants and knowing that it is so far removed from what I ever wanted that I have no idea what my life will be. 

I will never have children. 

There. I said it. Again. However, this time I am saying it to more than just my closest friends and confidantes. I am saying it to more than God. I am attempting to own it the same way I owned my BPD in the beginning... by acknowledging it out loud. 

It hurts to say it, and I fear this post may hurt others in a way. I have children. I have 4 theatre children that make me the happiest, most frustrated theatre mom there ever was. I love them intensely and unconditionally. I would do anything in my power to ensure their happiness and health in this life. I annoy them. I am overprotective of them. They more than likely hate me for it, but they allow it because they know I love them. They allow it because it makes me happy and fills a small section of this void in my life. If any of you are reading this, please know that my sadness right now has nothing to do with you. It has to do with the grief I feel over the loss of the life I always thought I would have. 

I always wanted children. I always wanted a husband and kids and a dog and a fenced in yard. I wanted all of those things. In my 20s, I started to realize that would never happen for me so I started saying that I hated kids, that I did not want them. It was a lie I told myself because, at the time, it made me feel better. Now, that lie hurts me in ways I never knew it would. Let’s call that unhealthy coping mechanism number one.  

Unhealthy coping mechanism number two has been in full force. See, there was this guy. Love of my life. If I am being completely honest, I am over him. I have been for years. My friends don’t know that. They think I am still hung up on him. Why? Because anytime I get sad, I use him as an excuse. I filter that sadness through the “I miss ______” dialogue I grew accustomed to using. The truth is that it is easier to “miss him” than it is to face a new type of sadness. I know what missing him entails. I know what it means. I know how to survive it. This? This is new. A different kind of hurt. A different kind of pain. This pain has swallowed me whole. 

So, where do I go from here? I am not sure. I keep living. I keep loving my theatre children, but this post allows me to be a bit more open, honest, and real with them. A friend told me recently that my kids are strong and can handle the truth of my sadness... that what they won’t tolerate is the lies. So, there’s the truth. I’m sad because I will never have children outside of my adopted theatre kids... not because of ______. I know it sounds like something stupid to be sad over, but there it is. When I talk about him, know that I am trying to say something else but the words are too painful to speak. 

I will never have children. 

The hardest phrase I have ever uttered. 

How Quilting Saved My Life

Coping skills have never been my strong suit. I'm not sure I ever had them until recently. I work diligently to be self-aware, to let go of the negative thoughts that invade my mind consistently throughout the day, to breathe through the anxiety rather than let it overcome me. It is exhausting work, but the gift of life is worth the effort. However, the best coping skill I have adapted into my routine is quilting.

I have always been a creative type. Acting, singing, piano, guitar, writing... these are just a few outlet I've had throughout my life, but nothing compares to quilting. 

My mamaw has quilted her entire life. Her involvement came from necessity, but as time went on, it became a hobby. Her quilts are beautiful. Her stitches small and tight. She has made quilts for almost every member of our family, and our family is quite large. I received a gorgeous quilt from her for my 16th birthday. It is rarely used because I do not want it to get ruined. It's a keepsake to me. A treasure that hopefully will be passed down for generations. 

Now, I quilt. It isn't out of necessity for warmth. I have collected plenty of quilts throughout the years between those made for me by my mamaw and my mom. No, for me, it is out of necessity for sanity. 

Quilting keeps me occupied. It allows my mind to shut down the anxiety and depression and 100 thoughts per minute that plague my life daily. It is an outlet I can pour myself into without regret. Plus, I hand quilt. My mom has a machine capable of quilting. She prefers to machine quilt. I do not. I guess I get it from my mamaw. Hand quilting means it takes longer to finish a project, but it also means more down time for my anxiety. I pour myself into these quilts 100% once I get started. Most people I know who quilt prefer to make the quilt tops. That part is actually my least favorite. Cutting all the pieces and sewing them together, which I actually do on machine, is fun but I really get in the zone when I have the quilt basted and in the frame. Turn on some music or Netflix and just run stitches. 

I guess what I am getting at is if you a struggling, find an outlet. Find something that occupies your time and your mind. Something that will help you tune out the wreckage your illness is trying to cause. 

Below are pictures of two projects. One i have finished. The other is now in the frame being quilted. I have even started cutting squares for a new one. 

Peace, Love, & Creativity!

Dreams: Subconscious at Work

Since being medicated, I have started dreaming again. Let me tell you, I do not dream small. I have massive, realistic, good-enough-to-be-a-motion-picture, heart-pounding-so-hard-it-jerks-you-straight-out-of-REM dreams. I always have, except when my depression is at it's deepest, darkest points. In those times, I see nothing but vast emptiness. Obviously, I prefer waking up multiple times a night because at least I know my subconscious is working. I know that things are being sorted out in the process nature indeed. 

You can also imagine that I take great stock in my dreams and their meaning. Some people do. Some don't. It's a personal belief that should not be chastised. If you don't believe dreams hold significant meaning, this post is not for you. If you do, let's take a stroll through my subconscious's way of telling me to get my shit together. Shall we?

For the past month, I have had different versions of the same dream. What do I mean? I mean, the players are the same, but the story line is somewhat different. This escalated into having 5 versions in one night. Well, now it is definitely time to look into the symbolic nature of those dreams because this is getting ridiculous.

Let me point out, that I'm not going to tell you what the dream was. You will probably be able to figure out the puzzle yourself by reading the meanings, from Dream Moods, below. I've italicized key words and phrases that connected.

• To see friends from your past in your dream points to your desire to reconnect with a part of yourself that you have lost touch with. Perhaps it is time to pick up that old hobby or put a long hidden talent to use. A more direct interpretation of this dream may simply mean that you should look this friend up and reconnect with them. 
• To dream that you are being chased signifies that you are avoiding a situation that you do not think is conquerable. It is a metaphor for some form of insecurity.
• To dream that you have been killed suggests that your actions are disconnected from your emotions and conscience. The dream refers to drastic changes that you are trying to make. There is a characteristic that you want to get rid of or a habit that you want to end within yourself. Killing represents the killing off of the old parts and old habits. Alternatively, the dream represents feelings of being let down or betrayed by someone in your waking life. You are feeling overwhelmed, shocked and disappointed.
• To dream that you are murdered suggests that some important and significant relationship has been severed. You are trying to disconnect yourself from your emotions. The dream may also be about your unused talents. 
• To see poison in your dream denotes that you need to get rid of something in your life that is causing you much sickness and distress. You need to cleanse and purge away the negativity in your life. 
• To dream that you ingest or inhale poison indicates that you are introducing something into yourself that is harmful to your well-being. This may be feelings of bitterness, jealousy or other negative feelings that are consuming you.
• To dream of an ex-friend suggests that an object or a recent incident has subconsciously reminded you of her or him. Alternatively, the ex-friend represents a lesson you learned from the falling out. You need to apply that lesson to a current issue, problem or relationship.
• To dream of your own execution indicates that you are harboring some strong guilt. Perhaps there is a bad habit or aspect of yourself that you want to rid yourself of.
• To dream that you are kicking someone represents suppressed aggression that you are unable to express in your waking life. 
• To dream that you are being kicked indicates that you feel victimized or taken advantage of. The dream may be telling you to stop feeling sorry for yourself. Alternatively, being kicked is a way for your subconscious to push you ahead and motivate you to continue on toward your goals. Sometimes you need a kick. You need to be more aggressive.
• To dream that you are being kidnapped denotes feelings of being trapped and restricted. Someone or some situation may be diverting your concentration and your attention away from your goals. In particular, to dream that you are kidnapped by your ex-boyfriend suggests that your ex still has some sort of emotional hold on you. (**Note: I am viewing this as an ex-friend as well.**)
• To dream that you are wounded by a knife is symbolic of masculine or animalistic aggression.
• To see someone holding a knife in your dream suggests that you lack control or power in a situation or relationship. Alternatively, the person holding a knife in your dream may be symbolic of a dominant male figure in your waking life.
• To dream that you are hiding suggests that you are keeping some secret or withholding some information. You may not be facing up to a situation or dealing with some issue. However, you may be getting ready to reveal something and confess before somebody finds out.
• To dream that you are walking through an alley represents a dead-end. You feel that you have missed out on some opportunity in life. Alternatively, the dream denotes that your reputation is in jeopardy. You feel that you are on the outside.
• To dream that you are alone indicates feelings of rejection. You may be feeling that no one understands you. 
• To see only the feet being chased in your dream suggests that you are letting others determine where you go or decide on your goals. You are lacking control over the direction of your own life. 
• To see a fence in your dream signifies an obstacle or barrier that may be standing on your path. You may feel confined and restricted in expressing yourself. Are you feeling fenced in some situation or confined in some relationship?
• To dream that you are climbing to the top of a fence denotes success. If you climb over the fence, then it indicates that you will accomplish your desires via not so legitimate means. If you dream that you are on the fence, then the dream may be a metaphor indicating that you undecided about something.
• To dream that you fall from a fence denotes that you are in way over your head in regards to some project which you are dealing with.
• To dream that you are in a fight indicates inner turmoil. Some aspect of yourself is in conflict with another aspect of yourself. Perhaps an unresolved or unacknowledged part is fighting for its right to be heard. It may also parallel a fight or struggle that you are going through in your waking life. If you are fighting to the death, then it refers to your refusal to acknowledge some waking conflict or inner turmoil. You are unwilling to change your old attitudes and habits.
• To dream that someone is stealing something from you indicates that you are experiencing an identity crisis or are suffering from some sort of loss in your life. Alternatively, the dream means that someone has stolen your success or has taken credit for something you did. Perhaps you feel that you have been treated unfairly.

As you can see, there were many symbols in my dream and all of them are interconnected. Disconnect with self. Needing to reconnect with self. Feeling overwhelmed, insecure, let down, rejected, betrayed, guilty, shocked, disappointed, bitter, taken advantage of, treated unfairly, trapped, aggressive but not aggressive enough, powerless, loss, treated unfairly.

My struggle to say how I feel instead of just talking about a situation and hoping someone understands, shows itself plainly in my subconscious. My subconscious is telling me how I feel. What I need to work on. There's a lot, but it is all connected to the same situations. From this I can see that yes, I do feel strong guilt. I am guilty of things, but that is not all I feel. Strangely, it is the only thing I focus on in my waking life. My friends, the handful who have stuck by me through the worst of the worst, always tell me how big my heart is. How deeply I love. How much I give and give to those I care about even if that care is not returned. I always tell them they are full of it, but I'm starting to understand that they are not. 

In my waking life, I only deal with the what I did wrong. I only acknowledge my faults. I hold those I love and care about on a pedestal of no wrong doing. I take the blame for it all. Every bit of it. The broken hearts and friendships and trust. I accept 100% of the blame. I carry 100% of the guilt, but that cannot possibly be true. If it were 100% my fault, I would not feel let down or rejected or betrayed or shocked or taken advantage of or treated unfairly. 

Now, I see just a bit clearer the aspects I need to work on. I need to not view those I love on a pedestal. I need to see them as flawed, too. I need to allow myself to acknowledge that I am not the only one to blame in the destruction of former friendships, the loss of which I am still trying to accept, process, and move on from. I need to allow myself to feel those things openly without regret or self-hatred because I am allowed to feel wronged and betrayed too. They do not get to hold the monopoly on those feelings and make me feel I am the scum of the earth. I have to stop blaming myself for everything that goes wrong and putting more and more weight on myself that isn't mine to carry. I need to let them carry their own guilt for a change. I have enough on my own. I don't need theirs, and it is not healthy for me to take it on. Plus, it doesn't change anything. They hate me regardless of whether I take all the blame or not.

Words vs. Actions

I hear it all the time: "I do not trust words. I trust actions." I understand the sentiment, but I wonder if these people understand that the act of reaching out to you with words is also an action. I also wonderful they realize that for me, reaching out with words, is one of the hardest actions I will ever do.

1. Saying "Thank you." Having had my medications adjusted and some time to work on my recovery, I have found myself wanting to tell people "thank you." The ones who called the cops. The ones who sat with me while I sobbed. The ones who didn't leave when it got increasingly dark. The ones who did leave for their own sake. Why? Because I honestly owe them my life. I was that far gone. I saw no signs, no way out, just an all-encompassing darkness ready to consume me. I do not say thank you to these people out of need or necessity to have them in my life or to come back into my life. I say thank you because I truly, sincerely mean it, and for nothing else. And usually it comes to me to say it when I have just finished meditating or a behavioral worksheet. It comes in the moments when my mind is most clear and my heart the most open. 
2. Telling you about how I feel. I still struggle to say how I feel without describing the situation that led me to said feeling or speaking in circle because I am unsure what the feeling is, but I know it is there and needs to be expressed. So, I chose you. I actively chose you. If someone picks up the phone to contact you about something important to them, that is an action. They chose you, out of everyone else they know. They chose you. They trusted you. Have faith in that.
3. Apologies. This is the real kicker isn't it. I mean, you may not see me curled into a ball on my kitchen floor, my head pressed against the side of the cabinets to keep me from falling over, sobbing my eyes out because I know I have hurt you. All you see are the words I text you in that moment. To you, I could be out at a party with my friends like "Watch this!" I can guarantee you, I am not. If I am apologizing to you, it's because I have beaten myself up about it for minutes, hours, days, weeks, sometimes months and years. 
4. The biggest one for me, however, is that I am a creative person who uses words as her outlet. I use words to express myself in all facets of my life. It's hard to consider yourself a writer without it. Hell, as an actor, I needed words. Words were the foundation. Take the words the playwright gives you, assess them for text and subtext and throughlines, use the power of those desires to drive your actions, and speak the words provided. I read a lot. In reading you are interpreting the words into a story and relating so honestly with the MC at times that you feel you are her/him. Words are an undeniable part of my life, like breathing and my mental illnesses. They are an inherent way of how I express and relate. If you tell me you do not trust my words, you might as well tell me you do not trust me, because I use words to tell my truth. Words, to me, are a gift given to us to allow us to connect. 

Besides, people can talk about action all they want, but when you need them, and I mean really need them, where are they? 

More Than Overthinking

I have spent a lot of time trying to determine what my next post would be. I tossed around a few ideas that I hope to get to; however, sometimes the weight of the illnesses is too much for the happy stuff.

I'm not in the throws of it just yet, but I can feel it coming. The tightening of my chest. The desire to sleep all the time. The inability to force myself to sew for more than just a few minutes. (There will be many posts about my use of quilting as a coping mechanism. I promise.) The sense of dread that I feel deep within my bones. But, the biggest warning sign for me, the one I'm learning to pick up on the fastest, is the rapid flipping from content to emotional disaster to numb.

Take today at work:

I was fine. I was doing my job, knocking out a massive project. Not happy. Not sad. Just content with my work when suddenly I am crying because I miss someone so much. Completely out of nowhere, the thought came into my mind, the panic crept into my chest, and before I could use mindfulness to gain some sort of control, I was sobbing. It happened in a matter of seconds. Of course, then I proceeded to get frustrated at myself because

1. I was crying.
2. I wasn't able to gain control in time to stop it.
3. I missed the person.
4. I felt guilty because my illnesses are the reason the person left, as far as I know.
5. I don't actually know that 4 is true so I was assuming.
6. It doesn't matter if it is an assumption, the person left and it fucking hurts.
7. It shouldn't hurt the person left.
8. But it does hurt and there's nothing I can do to fix it.
9. I should be able to fix it.
10. If I talked to the person I could fix it.
11. I've tried talking to the person, the person isn't interested in fixing it.
12. I don't actually know that the person isn't interested in fixing it and am making assumptions again.
13. I need to stop making assumptions and just accept that the person left.
14. But I need closure.
15. I'll probably never get closure.
16. I have wasted so much time upset about this and dwelling on it. Now, I'm going to get behind on my work.
17. Does it really matter if I get behind? It's not like I'm probably not getting fired tomorrow.
18. I probably am getting fired tomorrow.
19. If I get fired, I won't be able to pay rent.
20. Where will I live?
21. How will I survive?
22. Why is this happening?
23. Damn it! Calm down! Just breathe.
24. It's ok. You are ok. You are just sick. This isn't you.
25. But what if this is me?
26. No wonder that person left! I wouldn't want to deal with me either.
27. That person seriously doesn't give two shits about me. 
28. But what if he/she does?
29. If I could just get better. If I weren't sick, that person would still be part of my life.
30. FUCK! Stop crying! Stop thinking about it! Just work.
31. Work.
32. Work.
33. Work.

All of those thoughts went speeding through my head in about 2 minutes. That's what it is like. Not every day hits that level, but this was a fairly "normal" day. This is my normal. I have better days. I also have worse days... far worse, and I am so thankful it wasn't one of those days. 

Depression is sinking in quickly. I know it is, and I am fighting it with all my might. It just exacerbates the BPD symptoms and leads me down a path that I recognize and do NOT want to tread again. 

If you see me in one of those moments... If I reach out to you for a hand, try to refrain from saying things like, "Stop overthinking it," or "You are better off without him/her," or "Just calm down." It is far more than simply overthinking or not knowing my worth or being out of control. It will pass. I'm finally grasping the fact that those moments do, indeed, pass. Sometimes, I just need someone to sit with me in the dark until it does.