Mother

Well, today turned out exactly the way in which I predicted it would.
Once again I came home gutted.
I went to a 90th birthday party for a women who was like a second grandmother to me.

There were whispers about me "looking good", people saying "I'm so glad you're in remission" WHAT? I'm not in remission. I had half my thyroid removed because I had a growth they thought was cancer. Which, thank goodness, it wasn't.

My mother has been very busy talking out of school. She was never supposed to tell anyone about my breakdown, or me being locked up in the hospital. But, obviously that's fair and titalating to chat with everyone and anyone about. At the same time it's just fine to give out false information about my health issues. I have cancer! It's Melanoma, which never goes into remission. Which is a cancer my mother doesn't think is real.

I'm not sure why my mother gets her kicks from making me burn with shame for being weak and broken. Nor do I know why she hates me. My boyfriend, who has witnessed my mother for almost two years, told me tonight my mother is a terrorist to me and if I let it break me down "the terrorists win".







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Distress Tolerance

Yesterday we started the module "Distress Tolerance" in my DBT group. I think I'm going to need all the tolerances I can muster for the next eight weeks.
My psychiatrist is now one of the facilitators for teaching this segment. This is the same man who left me destroyed for a week after my last one on one meeting with him. I find he's condescending and is extremely invalidating. As you can tell, I'm not a fan.
Back to my main point: The psychiatrist reviewed the part they call emotional mind. His example was the song "Candle in the Wind" What the? My therapist asked him to explain. He stated the song is about Marilyn Monroe and Princess Diana, they both were boaderline's.
These absolute statements he announces infuriates me. The song has nothing to do with emotional mind, nor does having boarderline mean emotional mind.
Thanks for reading my rant
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Muse?

Doesn't matter if you're a fan of music or not, but there's something about watching a live concert that is absolutely consuming, jaw dropping in fact, to watch. These people who truly are in love with what they do. It's a calling. Which I think they would be lost if they could not lose themselves in the making of their art.
I was drunk on the passion of watching the genius, the sublime, of it all.
I'm crashing now. Pffft, having no passion for anything.
Where is my muse?
"Hit me with sweet music" - Sublime
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Thinking

Thinking God and Satan had a bet going, and I was at the centre. Things were taken away from me, and my life was shaken. Was it a test of faith?
If so, I'm probably falling miserably
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Demons and monkeys

Demons and monkeys running around in my head. Demons and monkeys running around in my head. The demon is the ugliest, biggest super villain ever... It's called Boarderline.
I have good days and bad and then I crash. The demon kicks in the door. The demon is here.
Thought about getting an exorcism if it would help get rid of the demon. But the Demon is Me and I would nothing without it. I need to learn to put the two of us together.
Where are you God?



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Life Plan

To be honest, I don't know what my temperament is suited for, and that's the pathetic thing for a forty-one year old woman to say. But I never got a chance to figure it out for myself. Maybe, if things had been different, I would have become a nurse like my sister, an artist, a musician, a butcher, a candlestick maker. I don't know. I never had a chance to decide. The Boarderline makes all the decisions.
But still, I keep going. Doing everything I can think of. Step one, step two, step three. Check, check, check. The problem is that I never quite make it to the last step.
How can I make a life plan. I'm going to have to ask the Boarderline what it wants right now


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Real?

I remember as a child laying in the tub with my ears under the water to prove to myself I was real. If I had a heartbeat I must be real right?
I'm a lot older now but, I still don't feel real. Starting to think I never will


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Lazy

Sorry I haven't been writing more. I think about doing it all the time. I get stressed cause I'm not a great writing.

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Pulling

The last two night I've watched the showed "Pulling". It was very entertaining, but made my heart hurt  too. I could see so much of myself in all three of the female leads. I pointed that fact out to my BF. ( the look of shock on his face could have been funny if it didn't scare me)
That is the reason I'm trying to write down my thoughts. I'm tired of watching the look of "what a freak"on the faces of people in my real life.
I'm not a great writer, so if your looking for wit and insight I'm not the girl for you. I'm doing this so I can keep a record of my thoughts and moods. Holding out hope that I can connect with people who are hanging on by their finger nails too.

A little history on me.

In April 2010 my whole life changed overnight; I was rubber stamped "crazy" and stayed for 20 days, of the required forced 30 days, in a locked psych ward. I always believed (and described) myself as strong willed and quirky... but it turns out I am actually Borderline.