Confessions of a Depression - III

Borderline Personality Disorder covers a range of anomalies, ranging from depression and mania to insomnia, anger, cutting, delusional and irrational thoughts, abandonment issues and ‘splitting.’ Splitting is not ‘splitting’ as in two or more personalities but the inability, for one, to make decisions; to see ‘gray’ areas. Things are either right or wrong, there are no gray areas. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder can also be a symptom of this disorder. Nail biting and counting are my OCD compulsions. I only have a mild case of BPD but even that has disrupted the majority of my life.

Anger has been my downfall, along with irrational thought patterns. I could get myself totally twisted out of shape, and those around me by non verbal communications which I expected everyone to hear and understand. My anger would surround me like a heavy black curtain. I could feel it happening and was unable to stop it smothering me. I had no idea at the time of what was going on when this happened and was unable to break out of this usually for 2 or 3 days or even a week. I was always right of course. Whatever I did or said, or didn’t say, I was right. When I was countered on this and because I was RIGHT, the anger started. The curtain would start to drop and I couldn’t stop it. I was trapped and could find no way out. It felt like I had a ton of weight on me and couldn’t escape/

I struggle with the ‘splitting.’ I have no problem making my own choices between the red dress and the blue one. The problem starts when someone else asks me which they should wear, or which restaurant to eat at. I CAN make a choice, BUT if I chose where I want to eat or which dress to wear, then I am very afraid that I have upset the other person by not choosing where THEY wanted to go or what they would have worn. I hate when someone leaves it up to me to make a decision for the same reason. I would much rather they said lets go eat sushi, even though I don’t like it, just so I know they are happy.

Cutting or self-harm is one thing that I hope I have seen the end of. This has happened about four times, three of them prior to being diagnosed with BPD. I have never had the intention of ending my life as I have way too much to do and places to go. One reason for this compulsion is validation of one’s feelings. I had feelings of being used and taken advantage of, almost as if I was spending my time entertaining and getting no applause. I had feelings of total emptiness as if no one notices me; therefore if no one noticed me, I was ‘dead.’ The other issue was when I knew I was right and was told repeatedly I was wrong. This came up about 3 years ago when my computer crashed and I needed to install a second hard drive. I was told repeatedly that I needed to buy a part and I knew I did not. (I was right, by the way.) Something comes over me and I can not explain it. In this instance I was so upset but there was no ‘black’ anger. It was a euphoric feeling because I WAS right and no one was going to tell me any different, yet I was in a daze of sorts, telling myself, ‘why can’t you see that I am right, there is NO other way except my way’. My thoughts were racing out of control; maybe I wasn’t here at all, maybe someone else was controlling me. I needed to ‘feel’ me, make sure I was alive, that I was ‘me.’ I was alone in the house by now, having upset the ‘other half.’ I was wound up tight, my thoughts racing and with clenched fists I needed to hurt myself. I figured there would be blood so a shower was in order along with a plastic comb I grabbed in passing. In the shower under hot water I took the comb and started raking it across my body, raising angry red welts. After a dozen slashes, I came to my senses and realized that I was going to make one hell of a mess of my body and I stopped. At the time it wasn’t hurting, but after it sure hurt, and I really was me and I really could feel. In the past, I used a knife of all things, but I made sure it was dull. I will always have scars up and down my arms. This is a very frightening thing when it happens and the first three times I did this, I had not a clue where these feelings came from or why they happened. I had no control of the situation, it just happened.

There are a lot of things that ‘just happened’ to which I had no explanation until my diagnosis, at which time I started doing some reading and understanding why things were happening. Abandonment is another issue I have problems with and a person with full blow BPD can end up with a complete breakdown.

Confessions of a Depression - II

I picked up some new pills from the health food store yesterday, MacaSure, a new product to regulate and balance hormones, and regulate menopause and andropause symptoms, including insomnia according to the sales woman. I won’t say I had a sound sleep, but I didn’t wake up tossing covers and was dry in the morning for a change. I even felt like I was somebody and not an automaton waiting for the first order of the day. Maybe I am ‘willing’ this to work, night two coming up.

Watching the news drinking morning tea and later on, watching the Canucks win their third game, I realized that for once in a long time, I was actually sitting on the couch and not feeling I was part of it. It felt like a weight had been lifted off me as I wandered around before doing chores. I haven’t felt quite like this in ages, my normal existence is like being in a soup; thinking murky, a struggle getting motivated, thoughts of ‘why bother.’ I accomplished 4 things today which should have been done ages ago. They were done with enjoyment and I felt quite pleased with myself. That doesn’t happen very often; it’s usually, ‘thank god that’s done.’

I have been with my husband for 38 years and according to him I changed after the birth of our first boy who was quite sick. We had a second boy 4 years later, a healthy 9+ pounder, a toddler! It wasn’t until 2000 that things went terribly wrong and I became privy to the above information. I had terrible anger problems and control issues and was an excellent player of the Blame Game. I was right all the time and the worst part was expecting others to read my mind. If what was planned in my mind did not play out accordingly, the Silent Treatment was on order and an anger that lasted for days. I can’t count the number of dishes that have been smashed. There was the washing machine with a dent in it from a broom handle and my broken toe from kicking the sewer pipe. There was also the cutting that happened 2 or 3 times, totally out of the blue.

I ended up in the local hospital for an overnight convalescence after one episode of manic behavior, drugged and left totally alone to wake up to a cold breakfast and booted out the door the next day. I also wanted to check myself in for help New Years 2001 and no one was available to help. After numerous prods from the husband to find out what is wrong and me saying ‘there is nothing wrong with me ,’ then, finally realizing that I needed help and being turned away, I maybe thought that I was okay. I didn’t know what was with me; life was great, I had a farm, a part time job, I was connected with the Municipal Government, the College and taking Library Assistance course, but my anger/control seemed to be destroying those around me. Maybe looking back at calendars may trigger something about why I became part of the furniture in February 2003 for 3 months. It took me a few weeks to figure that this was just not right and went to Mental Health in a different town and was treated totally different. I was diagnosed with Anxiety and prescribed anti-depressants.

It took 3 months to find the right drug, but many of my symptoms left. I didn’t quite know how they fit into the Anxiety mold but some of the anger left and all the racing thoughts I was having before bed about what I had to do and what everyone else hadn’t done. I started into reading on Mental Disorders. I had a friend who was taking Psychology courses who was a great help at this time. I became a board member of the Mental Health Association in Alberta. This was a time when Mental Illness was something that others had and no one talked about. That is the worst thing possible, to hid the fact that you are dealing with a problem. I was quite pleased that I had found out what was wrong with me and could then explain to others why I was maybe not the best person I could have been in the past. I was still told to be quiet; you don’t want everyone knowing you are a mental case.

It wasn’t until 2 years later that I got the diagnosis of minor Borderline Personality Disorder, something that I had figured out from my reading and I finally saw the light.

Confessions of a Depression

Oh how I wished someone would score the winning goal. I was falling asleep through the news and the third period even though I was in bed by 10:30 last night. I pray for a solid, sound night’s sleep and maybe this was it; then the game went into overtime! And no way was I missing the Canucks winning their third game of the series. Falling asleep, startling awake by the play, it was over after 13 minutes or so. Yipee…. Sound sleep coming up. It was 9:30.

I was up at 7:30 and felt like a whole new person. A very fitful sleep of maybe two hours, the rest broken. Five days of depression is over. It was like a veil had been lifted of me. I have been under this ‘veil’ for about 4 years now. Every once in a while it falls and I get tangled up in it. I know I can break free but somehow the strength just isn’t there to do it. Maybe it was sitting under my ‘daylight’ light half the day yesterday that broke it, or it was the ‘time’ for this episode to end. It’s time to make note of these things.

Unless you have lived ‘depression’, it may be hard to imagine what it’s like not to be able to do your everyday tasks. You get up and get the animals fed, maybe split some wood if there isn’t any at the house, but it may not make it to the house till later. Do I want to eat? I should, but don’t feel hungry and really don’t want to cook. I sit down and drink tea, trying to find some motivation. You pick something to do, get up to do it and wander around aimlessly in the direction of the ‘something’ and all desire to do it leaves and its back to the chair and tea. Add to this mix other mental disorders and/or afflictions, and you have quite a mess to sort out.

I was prescribed anti-depressants 8 years ago after suffering 3 months of existing in a soup of inability to do or finish tasks. Unbeknown to me at the time, I was also suffering from mild Borderline Personality Disorder which was diagnosed a year later. The anti-depressants sent the depression packing and also alleviated some of the BPD symptoms. I felt on top of the world and looking forward to a new life on Vancouver Island starting in 2005.

Things were looking rosy. A lot of work to develop an acreage but I could manage that. I had done so for 25 years previous. I didn’t expect to have to deal with what I believe are the effects of chem trails plus the curse of menopause. Four years ago enthusiasm and get-up-and-go got up and departed. It felt like I was living my life in a box with the lid partly open. I knew that if I could only get out of the box, I could accomplish anything. The only problem was that it was only on rare days that the box would let me free. I blamed it on these CLF bulbs and had all 32 taken out of the house. It made no difference. I was still on anti-depressants. The doctor up them to 3 a day and there was still no difference. Being a reader of alternative news, conspiracy theories and alternate medicine, I substituted 6000 IUs of Vitamin D a day gradually for the drugs and felt more or less the same. Natural light and especially sunlight are on the menu for depression. We have been told to stay out of the sun, cover up with lotion and never take mega doses of Vitamin D. Now, instead of the black curtain of anger I fought with the BPD which the anti-depressants helped somewhat, and the box I couldn’t escape from, I am now dwelling under what seems like a misty veil. We weren’t here very long before I noticed the huge number of planes leaving trails that stayed for hours, for days on end through the summer on clear blue skies. I am somehow convinced that whatever is in these trails is drifting down and affecting some of the population. Like drugs, some work for you, others don’t and this chemical soup is affecting us the same way, dumbing us down, depressing us to the point we don’t care what is really going on out there. There is so much here to be enthusiastic about; things to do, fix, build, make, that I should be up at the crack of dawn, full of beans to get things done. There is always this veil of depression hanging over me. Some days, like today, I seem to be able to escape and ‘enjoy’ the day. Will it last? I don’t know. I shall have to see what tomorrow brings. (Its 11:30pm, I don’t feel particularly tired and this is something that I have needed to explore for a long time, but I haven’t been able to capture the inspiration to actually act.) At other times, like the past 5 days, I have become entangled in it. I know these periods won’t go on for weeks and try not to be sucked under and fight it. Dealing with other problems adds to the whole mess, but I can’t change what’s been nor what’s to come, I can only deal with now.

Insomnia is a symptom of depression, BPD and menopause and a good sound sleep would solve a ton of problems. I had periods of sleeplessness prior to moving, solved with a mild narcotic used for a couple of nights once or twice a month, or less. The last 4 or 5 years I can count on one hand the refreshing sleeps I have had. Is this depression or menopause? Night sweats were a definite cause for a couple of years, but that has calmed down somewhat. Day 3 or 4 of these last two depressive periods I had, I was falling asleep through the day. I could have a solid two hours sleep, and feel good I actually slept for two whole hours! Sleep usually consists of an hour of sleep when it finally comes, and then broken tossing and turning, being too warm then chilled off and wanting to have a good sleep at 7am. It’s not that I am not tired when I go to bed. I am, yet I can’t sleep

Depression hurts. Who does it hurt? It hurts everyone. Mostly because mental illness has a stigma attached to it and many do not understand how a depressive feels. I have other issues and demons I am fighting all the time, sometimes winning, other times not gaining, but during my depression periods I hurt inside. The possible seems impossible, I am misunderstood and no one seems to understand, and I feel very isolated.

These few paragraphs have outlined some of my issues that I feel need to be explored in this format. As I mentioned previous, what I needed to write just hasn’t made it to paper because of my state of mind. What I have written has touched on a variety of issues, which I feel if I explore in my thoughts, I can come to some reconciliation with the way I am feeling and deal with some of my issues.