It’s been a few weeks since I’ve sat down and wrote; partially because I’ve been spending every waking moment with my puppy, but also because I didn’t feel as though I had anything interesting or helpful to contribute. There’s a few things I want to share since I last wrote.
I eliminated all forms of communication with my mother. I blocked her on all social media platforms, and I even blocked her number. I don’t have any siblings, and I haven’t talked to my dad since mid-high school. I’ve never met any uncles, aunts, cousins, or grandparents, so yes, this means I’m officially alone. I’ve had a lot of thoughts about how I won’t have any family at my wedding someday, and I won’t have family to show my house to someday. Even with difficult decisions, it’s still a cost/benefit analysis.
If you’ve read some of my previous posts, you probably saw this coming. She sent me close to 100 (if not more) text messages, telling me how wretched of a human being I am. One of my favorite quotes from the series is “screw this BPD diagnosis. Lets be truthful. Research narcissism.” Although, a close second would be “When your 43 ask yourself, would it be nice if I had a mom? All my other friends have moms.”
Y’all get the point. These messages, and this relationship, is extraordinarily toxic. Society tells us that we’re supposed to have loving relationships with our mothers, simply because they’re our mothers. With only extreme exceptions, as children, we’re expected to tolerate toxic behavior in the name of family. I don’t feel this connection at all. My mother and I have never been close. We never shared stories with one another; she’s never taken an interest in my job, she didn’t help me decide where to go to college. I feel shame, which involves humiliation by diverting from social norms. However I have absolutely no guilt, which involves an internal regretful feeling. I want guilt to guide me through life, as it is a representation of my values. I won’t allow shame to dictate my decisions.
On Wednesday of this past week, I came extremely close to attempting suicide for the second time. On Monday morning, I woke up feeling incredibly depressed. I muddled through the day, but by Tuesday afternoon I was researching methods. I felt terrible. Months ago, Tyler and I bought tickets to a Walker Hayes concert, which was scheduled for that evening. I dragged myself to the concert, and it was a good temporary relief. By the time I left, however, the depression was back, coupled with some extreme anxiety. I woke up Wednesday morning feeling extremely depressed. I dragged myself to work, but by 10AM I knew that Wednesday would be the day that I die. I had a plan, it was such a question of at what point in the day I would die.
I went to my DBT (dialectical behavior therapy) group on Wednesday, and during individual check-in, I told one of the therapists that I had a plan to attempt suicide. I suppose that was the last bit of fight I had in me. The therapists wanted to place me on a psychiatric hold, but after 20 minutes of crying, telling them that I would rather die than be put back on a psychiatric hold, they agreed to send me back to IOP (intensive outpatient program).
IOP is a two week program that involves group therapy, skills building, individual meetings, medication management, and more for those of us in need of more support. Unlike DBT, you don’t have to have Borderline Personality Disorder to go to IOP; the diagnoses in the room range. IOP was the program I was sent to in mid-October of this past year, a couple weeks after my initial suicide attempt.
When the therapists encouraged me to go back to IOP on Wednesday, I felt really guilty. I felt I was going backwards in my mental health recovery. In retrospect it’s a silly mindset, but after my initial suicide attempt and first trip to IOP, I thought I’d do some therapy, do DBT, and everything would be great. I’d be a mental health success story. Going back to IOP felt like failure. That’s when I was gently reminded that recovery isn’t linear. There’s going to be setbacks and trying moments, but I’m getting the help I need. I’m on an upward spiral.
I start IOP on Monday, so wish me luck. My initial goal is to be truthful with myself and everyone around me. Everything is not fine, my feelings are valid. It’ll be easier said than done.
Till next time, y’all.