It is almost Christmas, and I notice that yet again I have not written for a while.
When all goes well, when life happens according to neat schedules and routines, when the people around me are there for me, I can pretend, I can even genuinely believe, that I am "better". That I have well and truly left behind the angry, confused and defiant 17 year-old I once was. That I am almost 25 now, a real adult, and that, with age, maturity and resiliency have naturally developed.
Indeed, when looking from the outside in, I am doing well. I am coming up to my three year wedding anniversary and could not be happier. I am gearing up to go back to university next year and I am looking forward to the challenges I will face there. I have been in my new part-time job as an after school care supervisor for just over two months now and I am loving it. After having looked after babies and toddlers for years, it has been interesting to learn how to interact with primary school aged children. Of the three supervisors, the children have dubbed me their favorite, and I would be lying if I did not say that that really stroked my ego.
But if you looked closer, you would see that I am spending most of my mornings in bed. Getting up at 12 or 1pm, just in time to get ready for my job at 2.30pm. And the days I do not have to work, I spend in bed or on the couch. I am trying to avoid having to socialize with friends, even though I would love some friendly company. Simple things, like getting groceries or returning library books, seem so insurmountable that they require days of planning and procrastinating. After having so bravely handed over my stockpile of pills to Jay, the only thing stopping me from seeing my GP for some tranquilizers, is the half an hour drive I would have to make to get there.
The catalyst for all this?
Jay has been quite unwell for the last three months. I have seen him once since September and I will not be seeing him until February next year, provided he is feeling up to it. This makes one session in 4.5 months (where I normally see him twice a week). Over the last three months Jay and I have scheduled session after session, only to be canceled mere days beforehand, because he was not well yet.
I was taken aback by how upsetting this was for the little girl inside me.
The first criterion cited by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders for Borderline Personality Disorder is "Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment." These days words like "abandonment issues", "depression" and the likes, are thrown about so lightly that they can lose their meaning. People use the word depression when they actually mean sadness or having an off-day. In the same way "fear of abandonment" doesn't even come close to describing the absolute terror I experience when someone leaves me or when someone is absent.
It is almost as if therapy, and by extension the therapist, provides a kind of "holding" environment for all the parts and bits that make up me. The scared little girl, the angry and confused teen, the anxious and needy adult. I can be all of these within the therapy room and know that I am still okay. I can be disproportionately angry, knowing that Jay will not retaliate. I can be the abused adolescent that learned she could make men do what she wants by using her body, without Jay ever taking advantage of me. I can be the sulky young girl who is too scared to show her vulnerability, knowing Jay will treat her with great care and respect.
And when therapy temporarily stops, it is as if there is no "holding" environment for all of me. I literally feel like I am disintegrating and falling to pieces. Swinging back and forth between being desperately needy and scared Jay will die (even though I know that is highly unlikely), and being defiant to mask that fear and neediness. Acting out for the mere sake of acting out and taking revenge. Wanting to cause him as much anguish as he is causing me, by refusing any interim help from him, hoping it will make him worry about my safety. And I know full well how childish these games are and how Jay deserves better and more of me, yet I can't seem to stop myself.
Jay is finding this disruption to our work as frustrating as I do and has offered to have regular phone contact. He has arranged a locum for me and he has told me I can email him as often as I like. And a small part of me desperately wants to hold on to that, while the rest of me thinks "it hurts so much not to have all of you, that I will make sure you cannot hurt me anymore, by pushing you as far away as I can". And I guess it is this part of the borderline behavior that often drives loved ones mad. The constant clinging onto and pushing away. The ever present “I hate you, don’t leave me”.
So there you go. When life throws me a curve ball, I do not seem all that different from the six year old girl I looked after at work today. She threw the biggest tantrum because she thought I was giving her older sister more attention than her. She stomped her feet and yelled at me, when what she really wanted was to sit down with me and play a game of “Agitation”. I guess in the same way I give Jay the silent treatment, when what I really want is for him to make the sad and the missing go away.
Today, though, I swallowed my pride and gave the locum Jay arranged for me a call. We have set an appointment for next week and I will try my hardest to give the guy a real chance. Hopefully seeing another professional will help reintegrate and soothe part of me, until I can resume therapy with Jay next year.
Wishing you all happy holidays.
Thank you for reading.
Yours truly,
GI
When all goes well, when life happens according to neat schedules and routines, when the people around me are there for me, I can pretend, I can even genuinely believe, that I am "better". That I have well and truly left behind the angry, confused and defiant 17 year-old I once was. That I am almost 25 now, a real adult, and that, with age, maturity and resiliency have naturally developed.
Indeed, when looking from the outside in, I am doing well. I am coming up to my three year wedding anniversary and could not be happier. I am gearing up to go back to university next year and I am looking forward to the challenges I will face there. I have been in my new part-time job as an after school care supervisor for just over two months now and I am loving it. After having looked after babies and toddlers for years, it has been interesting to learn how to interact with primary school aged children. Of the three supervisors, the children have dubbed me their favorite, and I would be lying if I did not say that that really stroked my ego.
But if you looked closer, you would see that I am spending most of my mornings in bed. Getting up at 12 or 1pm, just in time to get ready for my job at 2.30pm. And the days I do not have to work, I spend in bed or on the couch. I am trying to avoid having to socialize with friends, even though I would love some friendly company. Simple things, like getting groceries or returning library books, seem so insurmountable that they require days of planning and procrastinating. After having so bravely handed over my stockpile of pills to Jay, the only thing stopping me from seeing my GP for some tranquilizers, is the half an hour drive I would have to make to get there.
The catalyst for all this?
Jay has been quite unwell for the last three months. I have seen him once since September and I will not be seeing him until February next year, provided he is feeling up to it. This makes one session in 4.5 months (where I normally see him twice a week). Over the last three months Jay and I have scheduled session after session, only to be canceled mere days beforehand, because he was not well yet.
I was taken aback by how upsetting this was for the little girl inside me.
The first criterion cited by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders for Borderline Personality Disorder is "Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment." These days words like "abandonment issues", "depression" and the likes, are thrown about so lightly that they can lose their meaning. People use the word depression when they actually mean sadness or having an off-day. In the same way "fear of abandonment" doesn't even come close to describing the absolute terror I experience when someone leaves me or when someone is absent.
It is almost as if therapy, and by extension the therapist, provides a kind of "holding" environment for all the parts and bits that make up me. The scared little girl, the angry and confused teen, the anxious and needy adult. I can be all of these within the therapy room and know that I am still okay. I can be disproportionately angry, knowing that Jay will not retaliate. I can be the abused adolescent that learned she could make men do what she wants by using her body, without Jay ever taking advantage of me. I can be the sulky young girl who is too scared to show her vulnerability, knowing Jay will treat her with great care and respect.
And when therapy temporarily stops, it is as if there is no "holding" environment for all of me. I literally feel like I am disintegrating and falling to pieces. Swinging back and forth between being desperately needy and scared Jay will die (even though I know that is highly unlikely), and being defiant to mask that fear and neediness. Acting out for the mere sake of acting out and taking revenge. Wanting to cause him as much anguish as he is causing me, by refusing any interim help from him, hoping it will make him worry about my safety. And I know full well how childish these games are and how Jay deserves better and more of me, yet I can't seem to stop myself.
Jay is finding this disruption to our work as frustrating as I do and has offered to have regular phone contact. He has arranged a locum for me and he has told me I can email him as often as I like. And a small part of me desperately wants to hold on to that, while the rest of me thinks "it hurts so much not to have all of you, that I will make sure you cannot hurt me anymore, by pushing you as far away as I can". And I guess it is this part of the borderline behavior that often drives loved ones mad. The constant clinging onto and pushing away. The ever present “I hate you, don’t leave me”.
So there you go. When life throws me a curve ball, I do not seem all that different from the six year old girl I looked after at work today. She threw the biggest tantrum because she thought I was giving her older sister more attention than her. She stomped her feet and yelled at me, when what she really wanted was to sit down with me and play a game of “Agitation”. I guess in the same way I give Jay the silent treatment, when what I really want is for him to make the sad and the missing go away.
Today, though, I swallowed my pride and gave the locum Jay arranged for me a call. We have set an appointment for next week and I will try my hardest to give the guy a real chance. Hopefully seeing another professional will help reintegrate and soothe part of me, until I can resume therapy with Jay next year.
Wishing you all happy holidays.
Thank you for reading.
Yours truly,
GI
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