DON'T LEAVE ME

A symptom of Borderline Personality Disorder is a fear of abandonment. This fear drove away some of my friends and led me to many heartaches. Like I said in a previous blog, I became attached to my friends, but I also feared I would do something wrong to drive them away, or there was something about me that would make them want to leave me.

During my childhood, many of my friends turned their backs on me, and when I did make a friend, I held on to her tightly. When a friend canceled plans with me, I'd get upset. I'd wonder what I did wrong, if my friend was trying to find a reason not to spend time with me or was finding a way to put an end to our relationship. I got angry and sad. I blamed myself. I thought I was worthless and that I drove my friends away.

In my adult years I developed many good friendships, but the fear of them abandoning me plagued me. I got upset when they were late meeting me for a dinner; I cried when they canceled plans and I worried constantly I would drive them away. In order to protect myself from abandonment, I would push them away. I would ignore them at times; I would avoid their phone calls and keep secrets.

Even though I wanted to keep myself safe from being abandoned, I held onto my friends tightly. I couldn't imagine life without them. I couldn't stand the thought of being alone and of never seeing my friends again. When I turned from my friends, I'd find myself begging for forgiveness and asking them to never leave me.

This fear of being abandoned reached into my relationships with men. I repeatedly ask my husband to promise me he'll never leave me. He always tells me if he was going to leave he would have done it long time ago and that he loves me too much to walk away. When I have health problems and I get depressed, I wonder if I'm too much of a burden on my husband and he will not want me anymore. He reminds me there is nothing which could take him from me.

In therapy I learned that friendships come and go. If a friend leaves, it's not because I'm an awful person and it's not my fault. I also realized when friends cancel something or don't call, it's not my fault and other things may have come up. I no longer get mad when a friend changes or cancels plans. I still fear being abandoned, but I have learned how to handle those worries. I remind myself that friends come and go and I can make new ones. With the help of my therapist I can bathe in the sunlight of good relationships.

SYMPTOMS OF ANXIETY DISORDER

When I found out I had anxiety disorder, I did some research. I found that there are several types of anxiety disorders such as panic disorder, social anxiety disorder, specific phobias, and generalized anxiety disorder. I have generalized anxiety. I worry a lot about things that are small. I often find I have no real reason to worry in the first place.

 

I learned each disorder has varying symptoms. Some general symptoms from the website WebMD at http://www.webmd.com/anxiety-panic/guide/mental-health-anxiety-disorders, are:

• Feelings of panic, fear or uneasiness
• Problems sleeping (I can't sleep without medication because I can't stop my mind from racing)
• Cold sweaty hands and/or feet
• Shortness of breath
• Heart palpitations
• Inability to be still and calm (Sometimes when I'm anxious, I pace, or I shake my leg continuously)
• Dry mouth
• Numbness and tingling in the hands or feet
• Nausea (I worry to the point I become nauseated and I get sick)
• Muscle Tension (My muscles become tight and sore)
• Dizziness

 

These are just a few symptoms and do not cover all anxiety disorders, but if you think you have a disorder, get help. Find a therapist and psychiatrist. Your therapist and psychiatrist can help you determine which anxiety disorder you have and help you find the right treatment for your illness. With help you can find relief.

 

With the help of medication I can sleep throughout the night, I can avoid getting sick, and I can live comfortably. With the help of therapy I am learning to take control of my worries and I have learned relaxation techniques.

 

Sometimes I forget to take my medication, but with help I am in control of my anxiety. I do have bad days. It's how I handle the hard times that makes me stronger. My husband reminds me when I forget to take my medication and when my worries are out of control. With the help of medication, therapy and my husband I can continue to live in the light.

HOLDING ON TOO TIGHT

A problem I have experienced with my illness is becoming attached to people. This is also a symptom of Borderline Personality Disorder. I see a person as this wonderful being who can do no wrong. I suddenly need this person's full attention and I need him or her to be there for me no matter what. I feel as if I can't go on without this person.

 

Sometimes, I developed attachments to people who didn't know how I felt. I craved their attention and their simple kind acts became much more to me.

 

I became attached to a manager where I worked and yet I rarely had a chance to have a full conversation with her. This manager was extra nice to me when I was going through a rough time. She rubbed my back when I cried in her office. Every day I looked for her. I needed her to notice me, to say hi. When she didn't, I felt my heart sink. I wanted to talk to her, but I couldn't. She hadn't the slightest idea that I needed her to notice me.

 

I also developed attachments to friend's. I needed my friends full attention. I felt like I had to talk with or see my friend each day. I called my friend excessively and tried to make many plans with her. I expected her to handle all my problems. When she was not available, I got very upset and felt like she was abandoning me. I often over stepped my boundaries and expected too much.

 

Even when a friend became mean or abusive, I couldn't let go. I stayed in bad relationships because I felt as if I couldn't survive without that person. The other person had to end the relationship because I couldn't. When it ended, I fell apart and thought my life was over.

 

In therapy I learned friendships go two ways. I had to give as much as the other person did. My therapist taught me how to respect my friends' boundaries and to accept that just because a friend is not available does not mean she or he is turning away from me. I learn that no person is perfect and how to stop expecting them to be.

 

Now I'm attached to my husband and he spoils me rotten. I know he'll never leave me and he loves to give me attention. I take care of his needs and show him my love. I have healthier friendships and I am able to participate in my friendships.

 

I still develop attachments to people, but now I know how to handle them and not let my need for their attention control me.

Journaling Is Therapy

During my second bout of depression, I was hospitalized. A friend came to visit me and gave me a journal. That journal became my lifeline. Each day I poured out my soul out into its pages. I wrote about the feelings I had pent up inside me that I couldn't tell anyone about. With each word I wrote, I felt like a weight was being lifted off of my soul.

I always loved to write, and I put a big part of me in my stories. I never thought about putting my thoughts in a notebook, but when my friend brought me the journal, it was like my heart was finally being opened up. My journal became my best friend. Once I left the hospital, I carried it with me every where. The best part was that no one read my journal, but me.

In therapy, my therapist had me start another journal. This journal was for positive things. Each day I had to write down something good about my day, even when I couldn't think of anything but bad stuff. Then I had to write down things about myself I liked. I found this very difficult, also. Even though I struggled, I continued to write in the journal. Writing in the new journal helped me see beyond the darkness in my soul. It showed me I had things in my life to be grateful for.

What I loved most about my journal was I didn't have to have good writing, grammar skills, or spelling. I could do whatever I wanted in my journal. Sometimes I taped pictures, notes, news articles, and comments from my customers.

I even started writing my thoughts and things that bothered me down on notebook paper and gave it to my therapist to read. This helped me communicate better with my therapist. Through words on paper, I could tell her the things that I couldn't speak.

Journaling became a form of therapy for me, and it can for you, too. You don't have to be a writer to journal. You don't even have to be able to write complete sentences. All that matters is putting down your feelings and the positive things in your life. It will help free your soul of the feelings you can't express.

When I found the light, I needed my journal less. I started to be able to see the good without writing it down. I still write in my journal, but not as often. The dark thoughts come less often.

I still look at my positive journal to remind me of all the wonderful things I do have. When things get difficult, I turn to my journal. It still serves as a form of therapy for me when the darkness slides in. Journaling helped me through many rough times and has helped me reach the light.

FINDING A THERAPIST

Finding the right therapist for you is a process of elimination. You must search for someone whose personality is pleasing to you, and one whom you feel comfortable with. I went through several therapists till I found the right one. The problem is, there are good ones and bad ones. I had my share of bad ones.

 

When my mother first found out about my illness, she took me to a therapist in a nearby town. The therapist told me I was injuring myself for attention, and by doing that, I was hurting my family and friends. I went home after therapy crying. Years later, I went to a therapist who told me to think happy thoughts and my depression would go away. Another one listened to what my ex-boyfriend told her and lectured me instead of hearing my side.

 

I felt like giving up, but I kept searching. I knew I couldn't get better without help. When I was in college, my Mom went to a hospital with mental health services, and they gave her a number for counseling services. I found a therapist who educated me about depression and helped me battle my illness.

 

Years later when my ex-boyfriend left me, I went to a therapist who gave me homework, allowed me to write down my thoughts, and helped me reach recovery once again. I continued to see this therapist until recently when she changed jobs. She helped me through many rough times, and taught my husband about my illness.

 

In order to make therapy work, I had to develop a bond with my therapist. I had to feel comfortable telling her my deepest, darkest secrets. To do this, I had to find a therapist whom I could trust. It took me several sessions till I felt comfortable enough with my therapist to share my life story.

 

To find a therapist, look in your telephone book or search online. There are several sites that you can type in your state and they will give you a list of therapists. One site is Psychology Today at http://therapists.psychologytoday.com/rms/. Also check for state funded programs. Go to National Alliance For Mental Illness, NAMI, for help. You can find NAMI's website on my sidebar. I found a therapist through a free program offered at my job.

 

Don't give up if a therapist doesn't suit your needs or isn't very good. Keep searching till you find the one that is best for you. I didn't give up, and in time I found a therapist who helped me reach the light. Once I found the therapist best for me, I worked hard and I listened to her advice. I had to be willing to get better for therapy to work effectively. Once I put all my effort into recovery, I was able to find the light and dance within.

THERE WILL BE ROUGH TIMES

Even though I have been dancing in the light for many years, I do have times when my illness gets the best of me. Recently I had foot surgery and after going back to work, I got an infection in my foot. For over a week I have been off work, laid up, my foot wrapped in bandages to my knee, and in pain. For almost six months I have been wearing an air cast boot. With all this going on I fell into a depression.

 

Suddenly, everything seemed hopeless. No matter how much I tried to think about the positive side to my situation, I got lost in jumping to conclusions, magnifying, and worrying. I thought my foot would never heal. I still fight with this feeling of hopelessness as I still struggle to recover.

 

Being laid up leaves the mind to wander into the realms of darkness. I'm useless. I can't even help pay the bills. We are going to go broke because of my dumb foot. I am going to be stuck in this boot for life. I'm never going to heal and I will have to leave my job. Maybe I should have never had the surgery.

 

While my mind continued on into the world of negativity, my mood dipped into sadness. I cried in my husband arms, I moped around the house, and worried myself sick.

 

I tried to keep my mind busy while I was off from work. I watched movies, I worked on a book I'm writing, and I read. My mind still kept slipping into the hole. I turned to my husband and friends. They reminded me to find the positive side to my situation. I had and have family and friends to help me out. I have a home, I have a loving husband and a dog who sticks at my side when my husband is at work.

 

Even though I have returned to work, my sadness lingers. I worry that the pain will not go away. I worry I will have to take a sick leave and we will not be able to pay our bills. I cried for a half hour when I had to go home early because I was in a lot of pain. My friends and husband remind me the healing process takes time, and even though I can only work four hour days, at least I'm working. My foot is no longer wrapped in bandages to my knee, so it shows progress.

 

While at home I write my feelings down in a journal, I try to remind myself of the good things in my life, I lean on my support system, and I try to keep myself busy.

 

I may be facing a bout of depression once again, but this time I know how to handle it and keep it from pushing me all the way down the hole. I'm too strong to let this sadness push me to the bottom of the pit of darkness.

PETS ARE A COMFORT

I was never a pet lover until my ex-boyfriend brought home a dachshund named Daisy. At first I wanted nothing to do with her, but she was determined to get my attention. She sat on my lap and nudged my hand with her nose. Where ever I went, she followed and at night she slept next to me. Before long, I was captured by her determination. I fell in love with her.

When my depression progressed, Daisy stayed by my side showing me unconditional love. When I lay in bed ready to give up, she snuggled close to me and stared into my eyes with her beady brown eyes. It was as if she were saying, “I love you and I'm here for you.”

When I was placed in a hospital, Daisy refused to eat and that gave me the strength to get better. I knew I needed to get out of the hospital so my Daisy would start eating again. So within a week, I was released from the hospital and Daisy and I were reunited.

When Daisy passed on, I got a rat terrier named Brandi. Brandi had more spunk then Daisy and was much younger. When I got depressed ,she'd jump up and down till I got up and walked her. She kept me moving and reminded me how important it was to walk even when I didn't feel like it. She showed me that I had someone other than myself to take care of. I had to keep going if not for me, than for her.

The dog I have now, Elli, loves to snuggle. She snuggles up on my lap and follows me around. She keeps me company when my husband is at work and makes sure she sends me off to work with extra love.

The love of a pet has given me the extra strength I need to fight the darkness and the comfort I need when the world seems hopeless. My dogs were and are not just pets, but they are my babies. I hold them dear to my heart. They help me see the light and give me a reason to dance within the light. They never turned their backs on me even when some of my friends had.

A pet of any type can be a comfort for a person struggling with mental illness. For me, it was and is the love of a dog that gives me extra strength to face each day. All my dogs seemed to know when I was at my worst. They knew when to stay extra close. My buddy, Elli, is very loving and never stops showing me how much she adores me.