Social media is definitely a mixed bag for me... and my bpd (borderline personality disorder).
I have met (without actually meeting) a small bunch of wonderful people who have become amazing Internet friends over the last few years and I feel so lucky. I wish I could spend time with them in real life. I have a lot to thank them for and I know there would be plenty of well earned laughter and stupidness.
But I'm quite sure I'd be better off without the bullshit that unravels in my mind when I start to think I'm worthless and that I'm no fun to be around or correspond with. I can spend an awful lot of time stalking people I apparently see as a 'threat' to my existence and yet at the same time I very often feel a connection with these same people. As if they might be a different version of me - and so that's what upsets me. You see? I once read how you should study that which annoys you more closely because it can tell you a lot about yourself.
Let me give you an example.
A few years ago I made a friend through the Internet who I ended up meeting and who is still my friend today. A person I value in many ways and who never fails to cheer me. I appreciate the friendship we had and still share. Although these days we don't speak often I have fond memories of random mischief and good fun.
We spoke often through Twitter and (at the time) Facebook - which I try to avoid these days where possible. He had plenty of followers on Twitter and a good half of those were female. Such is life. Only there was one in particular who seemed really sure of herself, her style, her life. And I started to secretly study all her liaisons with 'MY' friend *rolls eyes*. And it quickly turned into me checking her timeline every single day and marvelling at her confidence and brilliant life. I admired her and at the same time I didn't want to admire her at all because she made me feel so dull and boring. It made me angry and I fell out with my friend because I couldn't understand why he would bother talking to me... when he could talk to her and have far more fun.
In my eyes she was attractive and full of character. She was colourful and a bit of a rebel. She swore and had a way with words that I envied. She didn't seem to care what people thought of her or
whether she was trashy. She didn't seem to be influenced by others. Or give a damn about her size (which I struggle with daily as I alternate between bulimia and anorexia - which is getting better). So while I tried to like her I secretly hated her for being so amazing. And in turn I hated myself for hating anybody at all. I dislike bad feelings, especially towards other people.
It's a complete waste of time.
Because... isn't life all about learning from other people? Allowing yourself to be positively influenced by people you admire so that
you can apply their traits to your own life and live better for it? Well, I couldn't see this at the time, and I still can't! I'm capable of writing it but I'm not sure I'm capable of actually admitting I know I'm right. Because I'm still pretty sure she's amazing and I don't like how I compare.
This isn't quite 'Single White Female' but a fair few years have passed and I still check her timeline every few months, maybe four or five times a year. I have actually copied a few things I admired about her life into my own. But I don't feel comfortable with the
way I dealt with any of this. And I certainly don't feel proud.
So, if I'm your friend on Twitter and if I feel a connection with you then the likelihood is that I will check your followers list now and then and I will get lost, for short periods, in YOUR world. I will check photos and feel temporarily inadequate. I will wonder what it takes to be as brilliant and as beautiful as the people you chat with. And I will wish I could be somebody similar rather than me. And then I'll come back down to earth and get on with my life. I have shit loads of tasks to complete, a job, two children and a cat to entertain. And I love my life. I love my children and the stupid
nonsense we come up with. I often propel myself into the future so I can imagine looking back on my time with my children and I don't want any regrets. I want to be happy with my memories and I want them to be equally so.
But bpd sometimes gets in my way and I feel awkward. Without going into detail about the rest of my experiences with this mental health monster! ; ) I just wanted to share my 'stalking' story with you. Because it's quite honestly a problem. I don't have an awful lot of time for me - let alone worry about how much better other
people are! And just to clarify, I don't feel jealousy when I 'stalk' people I admire. I'm happy with my life and all the simple things I experience every day. From getting up and drinking tea right through to a hearty beer in an evening! I just feel temporarily worthless because
these people seem so in tune with who they are and I appear to be addicted to tracking them down just to make myself feel bad. It's something I have to learn to control and eventually stop because I don't want their looks, possessions, lives, jobs, money, etc. I think I'd just like their confidence to be whole and alive. And in order to be those things I have to log off and get out!
Thanks for reading. Please let me know if you've had similar experiences with (or without) bpd.
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Sunday, September 28, 2014
There's Something About Horses (Mental Health and Stigma)
If I were asked to explain everything I know about horses I'd probably manage to talk for about 30 seconds. Quite a lot of them are white, brown, sometimes grey. They usually have four legs and they seem to like to run around in fields with green grass. Oh, and they have big teeth.
Truth is I'm not really bothered about horses at all. So why the hell would I want to learn anything about them!
Until one evening, I was invited to a friend's house where I found myself mingling with a bunch of horse fanatics and, of course, I had nothing to say on the subject. I had no idea how to answer, what to ask or how to appear interested. Because I wasn't! It was quite embarrassing and I spent my night staring at table decorations and searching for words. So the next time I was invited I researched and prepared myself with a little knowledge. I felt much more comfortable about horse chat and even had a handful of simple questions to fire.
I hope it goes without saying that animal banter is by no means a comparison to that of Mental Illness, but imagine if you had been invited to a meal with medical professionals and a load of people suffering with disorders of this type. That you had no friggin idea about Bipolar I, let alone Bipolar II but that Mental Health was the topic of conversation for the entire soiree. Agh!
What the batshit you gonna say, eh?
Imagine, then, falling in 'story book love' with a person who has, for example, Borderline Personality Disorder. Now you really can't hide in the toilets until s/he 'gets over it' can you! But you haven't got a clue what to do, how to act, how to react, what to say, what not to say. In fact, you don't even know what BPD is. Jeez. Now what?
There are babies born every few seconds, all destined to be challenged in one way or another with mental illness - at one time or another, if not for the entirety of their lives. We can't simply chose the happy sperm! And when they tell you your baby is one of the two in 1,000 people who has Autism and that his disorder is life-changing and that he will never be "normal", you can't send him back. So whatcha gonna do?
Are you going to try to learn everything you can on the subject? If you've taken the time to get to know, or create this person from scratch, surely they're worth your time and effort. Or are you going to continue loving him or her in complete denial of their difficulties. Sweeping every episode under the rug? You can certainly try it for a while but most of the time mental disorders don't cater for this kind of attitude. You're simply going to have to either open your heart, or walk away.
I don't believe we are ignorant. I don't believe in beating the MH drum and accusing people of not being 'open' or 'aware' enough. I had no idea I was born with borderline symptoms. It took me 32 years to get a diagnosis. I just thought I was 'difficult'. I even blamed my being a Scorpio! It wasn't until I made the link between close relationships and my symptoms, which were gradually getting worse with respect to my personal safety, that I realised I had my arse to save, as well as to preserve the quality of the lives of those around me. When I picked up a pencil and started to work through my life on paper I noticed patterns connected to stages and events in my childhood. I wrote about my feelings and how I reacted to different situations and people. I wrote about my deepest darkest fears and beliefs. I was honest with myself because I figured it was absolutely necessary if I was to get better one day.
I eventually happened upon an article about borderline personality disorder and when I'd finished reading it I cried a river. It all made perfect sense and I suddenly realised I wasn't a monster, I just needed some support, a diagnosis and to learn how to heal.
If I hadn't done this work and had decided to sweep my dangerous symptoms under the rug, as far fetched as it might sound, I might not be here now. I still have a very long way to go and I really do believe myself to be incredibly lucky because I finally recognised my illness. A lot of people never get this far, many of them deny they have a problem, and some never realise at all.
Personally I think that, like a lot of subjects, until we are directly affected we're not always ready to hear the details. And if you're perfectly happy with your life and with the lives of those around you, then that is quite a wonderful thing. We shouldn't have to force the 'healthy' to listen to us until their ears bleed. What I would like to see more of is empathy and the simple act of validating our suffering from time to time. But not in a DROP EVERYTHING way, more a - 'Can I do anything to help', or, 'Would you like to talk to me, I'm here to listen' kind of way.
It's our job to work on ourselves to the best we possibly can. It is very difficult, especially when members of your family don't want to listen, this hurts an awful lot, I know. But whether affected by a mental health issue or a stable full of horses you have no idea how to ride, everybody has a right to smile. Those who don't care for you or your pains, perhaps don't deserve your time in the first place. Don't try too hard to make them understand. Put that energy, if possible, into you, yourself, those you love and those who love you back.
Truth is I'm not really bothered about horses at all. So why the hell would I want to learn anything about them!
Until one evening, I was invited to a friend's house where I found myself mingling with a bunch of horse fanatics and, of course, I had nothing to say on the subject. I had no idea how to answer, what to ask or how to appear interested. Because I wasn't! It was quite embarrassing and I spent my night staring at table decorations and searching for words. So the next time I was invited I researched and prepared myself with a little knowledge. I felt much more comfortable about horse chat and even had a handful of simple questions to fire.
I hope it goes without saying that animal banter is by no means a comparison to that of Mental Illness, but imagine if you had been invited to a meal with medical professionals and a load of people suffering with disorders of this type. That you had no friggin idea about Bipolar I, let alone Bipolar II but that Mental Health was the topic of conversation for the entire soiree. Agh!
What the batshit you gonna say, eh?
Imagine, then, falling in 'story book love' with a person who has, for example, Borderline Personality Disorder. Now you really can't hide in the toilets until s/he 'gets over it' can you! But you haven't got a clue what to do, how to act, how to react, what to say, what not to say. In fact, you don't even know what BPD is. Jeez. Now what?
There are babies born every few seconds, all destined to be challenged in one way or another with mental illness - at one time or another, if not for the entirety of their lives. We can't simply chose the happy sperm! And when they tell you your baby is one of the two in 1,000 people who has Autism and that his disorder is life-changing and that he will never be "normal", you can't send him back. So whatcha gonna do?
Are you going to try to learn everything you can on the subject? If you've taken the time to get to know, or create this person from scratch, surely they're worth your time and effort. Or are you going to continue loving him or her in complete denial of their difficulties. Sweeping every episode under the rug? You can certainly try it for a while but most of the time mental disorders don't cater for this kind of attitude. You're simply going to have to either open your heart, or walk away.
I don't believe we are ignorant. I don't believe in beating the MH drum and accusing people of not being 'open' or 'aware' enough. I had no idea I was born with borderline symptoms. It took me 32 years to get a diagnosis. I just thought I was 'difficult'. I even blamed my being a Scorpio! It wasn't until I made the link between close relationships and my symptoms, which were gradually getting worse with respect to my personal safety, that I realised I had my arse to save, as well as to preserve the quality of the lives of those around me. When I picked up a pencil and started to work through my life on paper I noticed patterns connected to stages and events in my childhood. I wrote about my feelings and how I reacted to different situations and people. I wrote about my deepest darkest fears and beliefs. I was honest with myself because I figured it was absolutely necessary if I was to get better one day.
I eventually happened upon an article about borderline personality disorder and when I'd finished reading it I cried a river. It all made perfect sense and I suddenly realised I wasn't a monster, I just needed some support, a diagnosis and to learn how to heal.
If I hadn't done this work and had decided to sweep my dangerous symptoms under the rug, as far fetched as it might sound, I might not be here now. I still have a very long way to go and I really do believe myself to be incredibly lucky because I finally recognised my illness. A lot of people never get this far, many of them deny they have a problem, and some never realise at all.
Personally I think that, like a lot of subjects, until we are directly affected we're not always ready to hear the details. And if you're perfectly happy with your life and with the lives of those around you, then that is quite a wonderful thing. We shouldn't have to force the 'healthy' to listen to us until their ears bleed. What I would like to see more of is empathy and the simple act of validating our suffering from time to time. But not in a DROP EVERYTHING way, more a - 'Can I do anything to help', or, 'Would you like to talk to me, I'm here to listen' kind of way.
It's our job to work on ourselves to the best we possibly can. It is very difficult, especially when members of your family don't want to listen, this hurts an awful lot, I know. But whether affected by a mental health issue or a stable full of horses you have no idea how to ride, everybody has a right to smile. Those who don't care for you or your pains, perhaps don't deserve your time in the first place. Don't try too hard to make them understand. Put that energy, if possible, into you, yourself, those you love and those who love you back.
Monday, September 26, 2011
The Applebody Tree. (Mum Just Stared At Me)
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| The Loo-Kout. (Lookout From My Loo) |
We bodged up all the holes and cracks in the bedroom and living room walls with this miracle cream called 'Hard As Nails' from The Englandshires that I silently accused of being some kind of Viagra in disguise, and my mum, bless her, took me a pair of pink marigold gloves which I refused to wear. I was in my element! I was kind of hoping I'd get messy and I did. My jeans were covered in dust from kneeling on the floor and I looked like a billion year old woman by the time we'd finished work.
We went out into the back garden for a while and I picked apples from one of the trees. The grass is absolutely strewn with them and they're perfectly nice enough to eat now. A couple of weeks back they were only fit for pies with lots of sugar in them. Mmmm... pies with lots of sugar. Anyway, I filled up a bag with them for my mum whilst attempting to convince her that the tree roots must be fueled by dead bodies because I couldn't think of any better reason for such an abundance! Mum just stared.
There's a wooden garage out there too! It's big old doors creaked like crazy when I pulled them back to look inside. There's pretty ivy growing up the walls & I can imagine using it as a place to string up multicoloured fairy lights and entertain people on summer evenings, whilst feeding them pies from The Applebody Tree. And they wont mind because they wont know!
I also had a crafty climb up the loft ladder in the tiny hallway between the kids bedrooms and the upstairs living room at the top of the windy wooden staircase from the kitchen underneath. My mum watched my back for me in case I toppled off and killed myself - which I didn't.
It was dark in the attic. But at the very least I could make out some cobwebs; which was enough to convince me there were secrets and hidden bodies up there too. I told my mum of my findings. I also told her I'd be growing cannabis up there. Mum just stared.
And then, once I'd closed all the doors and shutters and windows upstairs, we swept our way back down the windy wooden staircase into the kitchen again, where I found a rather substantial and potentially worrying water leak spreading its way across the tiles. I put that down to bodies, clogging up the pipes.
"I think I'm going to like it here" I said. Mum . . . just stared.
And well, I guess that's enough for now. But maybe tune in some other time, if you can be arsed. You haven't met my neighbours yet.
*Grins* I have!
LE x
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Dear Customer Services
I'm writing to complain about the microwave I purchased with you last Thursday afternoon.
Happy with the impeccable service I received at your store last week, I set the microwave up on my doorstep that very evening - as I figured this would be the best place for it to do the job required. And every morning since, I've stood and I've watched it from my bus stop. I've watched it as my bus has pulled away and almost turned the first corner on my journey to work. I've had everybody else on the bus watch it. Because, I'm sure you'll agree, Dear Customer services, that twenty seven eyes are better than two. And, quite frankly, I feel I've watched and I've waited for much longer than is necessary.
Hell . . . I even asked my neighbour to check on it once my bus was out of sight. In case of some sort of delay in the electrics and wiring. But he seems to have come to the same conclusion as I have . . .
It hasn't waved. Not once.
LE x
Happy with the impeccable service I received at your store last week, I set the microwave up on my doorstep that very evening - as I figured this would be the best place for it to do the job required. And every morning since, I've stood and I've watched it from my bus stop. I've watched it as my bus has pulled away and almost turned the first corner on my journey to work. I've had everybody else on the bus watch it. Because, I'm sure you'll agree, Dear Customer services, that twenty seven eyes are better than two. And, quite frankly, I feel I've watched and I've waited for much longer than is necessary.
Hell . . . I even asked my neighbour to check on it once my bus was out of sight. In case of some sort of delay in the electrics and wiring. But he seems to have come to the same conclusion as I have . . .
It hasn't waved. Not once.
LE x
Watch Me Write A Song. It's Been SO Long!
Little bubble in my mind
You are poisoning my prime
But I know that you're not there
Then you burst and you're not there
You call me to your mirror
Touch my face and stroke my hair
You whisper that you love me
Unstable Mabel broke her face on a table
And everyone laughed when she got a skin graft
Cos she looked like a bunny
Oh it was all just too funny
But it worked out OK
Cos in the end she said "Hey"
"That's enough for one day"
And blew the buggers away
Now she sits in her pants and eats strawberry plants
Oh shit.
How can you make me feel so lonely
Yet be with me all the time
You call me to your mirror
Touch my face and stroke my hair
You whisper that you love me
Then you burst and you're not there
You call me to your mirror
Touch my face and stroke my hair
You whisper that you love me
Unstable Mabel broke her face on a table
And everyone laughed when she got a skin graft
Cos she looked like a bunny
Oh it was all just too funny
But it worked out OK
Cos in the end she said "Hey"
"That's enough for one day"
And blew the buggers away
Now she sits in her pants and eats strawberry plants
Oh shit.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
I Need Me Some.
I combed my bedroom ceiling
A hundred times or more
Til I got this funny feeling
You were right behind my door
So I took a little moment
Just to gather up my strength
And when I ripped it from its hinges
I found you at arm’s length
*Cake*
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Open All Doors
Dear Secret Mind Bloggles,
A sad heart is also an open one. Don't you think? Like a door. My heart was sad for many moons. And still finds itself in sorry places from time to time, it's true. But it's come a long way over the years. And I'm very grateful for that.
People come and people go, some are helpful, some are hard to understand. Some leave scars and some leave happy memories you will never forget to remember. They're all important, in their special ways. And that's something I've come to realise.
You can learn from your own mistakes and heartache as well as your better times and dreams; and you can learn from those of others.
It's important to let go of your pain from the past. Because without doing so, you hold yourself from moving forward into your future. The one you're entitled to. The one that's going to allow you to look back and smile. The one that's going to help you to step even closer to the places you actually imagined you'd find yourself in, rather than the ones you always felt would suit you . . . in the end.
Which leads me to me you see, because I'm about to take the first few steps into my own future. But if it wasn't for the help I've had along the way, from those who didn't realise it at the time, from those who have inspired and encouraged me, endlessly, and those who have caused me tears. I wouldn't be where I am right now.
And while I can't help but be a little frightened by the unknown, I'm pretty much being blinded by the fire at the end of the tunnel. In fact, I'm almost ready to crack open the marshmallows!
We're ALL getting warmer.
*Kicks door down*
LE x
A sad heart is also an open one. Don't you think? Like a door. My heart was sad for many moons. And still finds itself in sorry places from time to time, it's true. But it's come a long way over the years. And I'm very grateful for that.
People come and people go, some are helpful, some are hard to understand. Some leave scars and some leave happy memories you will never forget to remember. They're all important, in their special ways. And that's something I've come to realise.
You can learn from your own mistakes and heartache as well as your better times and dreams; and you can learn from those of others.
It's important to let go of your pain from the past. Because without doing so, you hold yourself from moving forward into your future. The one you're entitled to. The one that's going to allow you to look back and smile. The one that's going to help you to step even closer to the places you actually imagined you'd find yourself in, rather than the ones you always felt would suit you . . . in the end.
Which leads me to me you see, because I'm about to take the first few steps into my own future. But if it wasn't for the help I've had along the way, from those who didn't realise it at the time, from those who have inspired and encouraged me, endlessly, and those who have caused me tears. I wouldn't be where I am right now.
And while I can't help but be a little frightened by the unknown, I'm pretty much being blinded by the fire at the end of the tunnel. In fact, I'm almost ready to crack open the marshmallows!
We're ALL getting warmer.
*Kicks door down*
LE x
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