A moment in a thought

My thoughts, in my life, of adoption and other such things

Where is the open window here? September 14, 2009

Filed under: Depression,life,reflection,Things,thoughts,Uncategorized — Jessie @ 6:24 pm

God I have no freaking patience today.

Not that I ever really have lots of it.  Through the years I have had different kinds of patience for different things.  But I think that has all just worn thin.  I am so just FED UP with my life.  Just fed up.  I have been for what seems like years now, and nothing I add to it, subtract from it, try to do with it, seems to change that.

I have had these brief periods where life seemed to be okay.  A little over a year ago I finished my degree, got a good job and started making a decent wage with a company that actually offered health insurance.  YES!  Finally.  I got my butt through school, that was hellish in and of itself.  And got myself OUT of my daycare job, which was great, because I just needed to be DONE with kids.  I used to have tons of patience for kids… but after seven years of working with them, my patience wore out, and I needed to do something else.  Went to school, got my degree in graphic design, and landed myself a nice KID FREE office job.  It really looked like things were going to start to look up.

OF COURSE NOT!

I lost that job just three months later, I am a massive fuck-up.  And I thought to myself, okay God, when you close a door you always open a window right?  There has got to be a reason for this.  There has got to be a reason why I just lost the best job I had ever gotten, and my best chance at actually making something of myself in the field I went to school for.  Because it was in the middle of the worst economic crisis since the great depression.  There has GOT to be some reason for this bull shit!  I got let go one week after my health insurance, which I had for the first time in five years, took effect.  There had to be some reason.

Almost a year later I have still yet to find that reason.  I have been living off of unemployment insurance and the money I make watching a little girl named Zoey for a whole whopping five dollars an hour.  I have not been able to find ANYTHING in my field, had one group interview for a job at a UPS store that also did graphics work, and there were people there that not only had their bachelors degrees (I have my associates) but also experience in the field.  My crappy three months at my great job don’t add up to much as experience.  Which let me know JUST how bad the market is for graphic designers.  My Degree is essentially one VERY expensive waste of paper.  F’ing GREAT!  All that work, all that heartache, all that freaking money!  For nothing.  For absofreakinglutly nothing.

Now I have six weeks until my unemployment runs out.  Six weeks is nothing but a blink of an eye.  I might have another extension, in fact I am pretty sure I do, but I can’t risk it.  And besides… back to the patience thing, INEED TO BE DONE WITH KIDS!  I love Zoey, but Zoey is a kid, and I need to be done with them.  I just do, for my dwindling patience sake, for my sanity sake.  And I need to go back to having a normal schedule again.  I have meetings I want/need to go to at night.  But I have to watch Zoey from 2-8.  Kinda kills that since most of the meetings take place anywhere from 5 to 730.  Can’t make any of those.

And I just can’t take the impatience anymore.  I do my very very best not to take it out on little Zo.  I do love her, but gosh shes a little kid, and she gets into EVERYTHING CONSTANTLY.  Which grates on me, and creates a feeling within me that I am not a big fan of.  That feeling of rage… thats what happens when I hold in my feelings of impatience, that feeling of rage.  And most of the time the only release I have to let it out on is myself.  So my impatience turns into frustration, and that frustration just turns inward toward myself.  Which makes me even more angry at me for everything I screw up on to begin with.  Its like this horrible never ending cycle.

I guess what frustrates me the most is this feeling is not new, in fact, in my life, it seems like its ALWAYS CONSTANT.  I had that reprieve when I got my good job.  It was like a sigh of relief, I could feel my life setting into something that I could handle.  But no, as per usual, it just slipped away, right through my fingers, like a big joke on me.  Like the universe was showing me JUST what it felt like to take that sigh of relief, just long enough for me to miss it when it was gone, and proceeded to take it away from me.  Reminds me of my childhood, my parents used to love to do that to me in punishment.  They took anything good I had away from me.  The worst parts of my life I spent grounded with literally nothing, they would even take my music away from me.

So thats what all this feels like, a big freaking punishment, a punishment because I just seem to be the biggest f up that ever lived.  Because life never seems to stop punishing me.

There is a hopeful employment oppourtunity, I have spent so long sending in resumes and calling places and gotten no where.  But there is a temporary staffing agency at one of the hospitals near me.  Hopefully I can get hired there.  Its just a temporary position, no health insurance or benefits but it pays alright.  And maybe it will be alright for a while.  Lord knows what I will do after that, if I even manage to get hired there.  But for now, that will have to work.

Because thank goodness, that job is blissfully CHILD FREE.  Maybe I could manage to get some of my patience back.

I just wish my life wasn’t just so damn FRUSTRATING all the time!

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What does it feel like to be a borderline? September 13, 2009

Thats an interesting question.   And I could answer it in so many different ways.

Its been a long time since I have defined myself as a borderline, an adoptee, an anything really.  For a while now, I have sorta just accepted some semblance of me and described myself as that. But there are parts of me I suppose that may never really go away.

I read about Borderline Personality Disorder and realize that even if per say, I don’t qualify for the diagnosis, what it feels like to be a borderline will never be far from my mind.   I will never forget what it felt like for me.  Hell still feels sometimes.  (although I feel like I need to put a side note here, that I have recovered from having to feel a lot of these things anymore, I am a lucky one)

It feels like being lost.

It feels like not belonging in your own body, in your own skin.  Sometimes its even hard to feel like you really do exist, that this body you live in exists, and that it is somehow connected to you and to the actions that you put it through.

It feels like sometimes pain is the only way to make you FEEL like you exsist again.  Of course I am not talking mental pain, no that is something that is felt on such a deep level, you have to close it off just to remain somewhat functional.  No physical pain, physical pain is the connection to the reality of everything.  Without it, sometimes you can get compleatly lost in the non-reality of the disconnection you feel.

It feels like your mind is disconnected from everything sometimes, like you can’t quite get a grip on anything because there is just no way to grasp it, instead it just slips through your fingers just when you think you might get ahold of it.

It feels as though other people don’t really exsist once they are gone.  As soon as they walk out the door, or hell even just go to bed in another room, it feels like they don’t exist anymore.  Of course somewhere in that rational mind you know they still exist!  But you can’t feel them any more.  Like a light switch that just gets shut off, every feeling you have, every feeling they give you, dissapears as soon as they do.  As if every essance of there very being is gone until you see them again.  And when its that one person, the one that is the center of your world at that moment, Sometimes the pain of just missing someone is so unbelievable, its like the inner parts of your soul will just come apart until you can just know that they exsist once again. So sometimes you pretend they are there, just so you won’t have to feel what it feels like when they aren’t.  And of course, there is that rational brain telling you that you are nuts… and just deal with it.  But the longing is still there, no matter how many times you try to rationalize your way through it, the longing is still there.  The missing is still there.

It feels like lonelyness… because once you are alone, you are ALONE.  You can’t feel those who love you, you can’t feel their love towards you.  After they are gone, its like they don’t love you anymore.  After all, if they are gone, how can their love remain.  Lonelyness is so central, so inside the core, it feels as though you practically are the only person who exsists in the world, and yet that existance is so fragile, so unreal, that the lonelyness becomes your exsistance, and soon it feels as if the whole world has gone.  And without others, your own exsistance fades, hence herein comes the physical pain, as said before, physical pain can become the only tie you have to actual exsistance.

It feels like dark… dark dark dark.  Like all the light in the world was just somehow sucked out.   All the energy and all the hope, just gone, sucked away to destinations unknown.  Only sometimes then there is light, LIGHT!  So damn bright it almost blinds you.  Your eyes… your body are unaccustomed to so much light and it practiacally blinds you.  Happy is just as stong an emotion as sad, only even more scary.  Because I never quite knew what to do with that light… and before you know it, snap, its gone.

It feels like being compleatly out of control.  Anger, rage, at NOTHING sometimes.  But there is no hope in controlling that anger, none at all.  Let it out, and it is distructive, violent, dangerous.  Keep it in and it makes the darkness even darker, until finally everything just goes black…

or RED

And watch out for red… because when RED comes there is no help.  When there is red, there is no rational, only rage, uncontrollable, uncomprehensible, inexplainable, rage.

It feels like death, like death of your soul, death of your mind.  And you can’t get death OUT of your mind.  Can’t walk by a window without wondering what would happen if you jumped out.  Can’t look at your own wrists without knowing how simple it should be.  Can’t stop obsessing about how or when or if it would work.  Cant look at a bottle of pills without seeing death first.

It feels like black and white, and nothing in between… well except maybe red.  But everything, everyone, every place good or bad.  And every moment the black and white changes.  Good self, bad self, good mother, bad mother.  And somehow the ability to keep the good and the bad compleatly separate.  You can love someone you hate, and hate someone you love.  But never at the same time.  You either love them, or hate them.  But that can change in an instant.  Borderlines can love someone abusive… and be okay with it.

It feels like confusion, like never knowing the answer to a question.  Even one as simple as whats your favorite color?  What IS my favorite color?  Is it black, I’m wearing black today I think I like black.  But Purple is nice too, but wait maybe I like blue… do I like blue?

It feels like insanity, because through it all Borderlines are just intelligent normal people… with some kind of messed up brain sequence.  We know we are messed up, but don’t know how to make it stop.  Don’t know how to just BE NORMAL.  Don’t know how to just be ourselves.  Have no off button… have no on button.  Have no button that turns the black and white into gray.  Have no button that makes it easier when someone walks away.  Have nothing like that.  But do have an intense need to be loved… which proves difficult for others to do.  Which in turn makes our lives more difficult too.  It feels like insanity because you just can’t understand what the hell is wrong with you.  Why you can’t make sense of anything or anyone.  Why people look at you funny and ask you what the hell is wrong with you.  It feels like a complete lack of understanding and place in the world.

Because it feels like being able to function completely normally while no one around you has a clue.

No one around you knows the war you fight within.

 

Who am I? September 5, 2009

And what a question that is.

Who am I?  Really, WHO am I?  I have so often wondered the answer to that question.  In the nature of me, and the nature of the diagnosis of BPD the question Who am I comes up quite often.  If you had asked me 10 years ago… five years ago… I probably would have looked at you like you were out of your mind.  I had no idea who I was, or even how to begin an accurate description of me.  I was whatever I wanted to be, a personal chameleon that could fit well into any situation.  Belong with any group of people.  Only I never really did BELONG, just pretended.  And silently hoped that no one would notice the chameleon in their midst.

Over the years I have developed something that would qualify as a sense of self.  I learned to lable things at put them into perspective and say, yeah, this is me, I like this.  I could even tell you reasons why I liked those things.  I have learned to allow myself to be myself, without questioning that too much.  Granted it doesn’t happen often, but it does happen.

Hoever, today, I took a quiz on a dating site, I decided to join a dating site, yay for me.  But I took this personality profile… I have taken lots… I know my profile personality pretty well.  This profile was different, the questions were aimed to be answered as you were as a child, not as you are now.  Because according to this, everyone is born with their core personality in tact.  Being that I worked in child care for 7 years,  I can tell you that this is probably true.  Babies, even little ones, have outrageously different personalities that they always carry with them through their childhoods.  But anyway, so this test is geared at your core personality, the one you were born with.  There was a disclaimer in there about yeah, people change blah blah blah but your core personality always remained.  So I took the test.  There were four personality groups.  Blue, the intuitive, intimate, emotional type.  Red, the powerful, stubborn, relentless type.  White the gentle, kind, dependable type.  Yellow, the outgoing, spontaneous and fun loving type.  I figured I was a shoo in for blue.

I got yellow, not even just yellow but DEFINITELY yellow (thats what they said, definitely yellow).  Yellow?  Where did that come from?  I am not outgoing, I HATE being around people.  I suck in social situations and avoid them at all costs.  I don’t like to be around people,  revel in being alone!  I don’t like having lots of friends, being the center of attention, I am not outgoing, I am not extroverted… all I could think of is WTF?  YELLOW??  The worst is my next was red, then white, THEN blue.  No no no, they got something wrong.

But then I started thinking.  I was that obnoxious child, the one that was always in trouble, and way too loud.  The one that wanted to be the center of attention and loved making people laugh.  The one that put tacks in her shoes because she liked the clicking noise walking down the hall.  The stubborn and crazy and creative kid.  I was that one.

So what the hell happened?

If our core personalities never change, where did mine go?  And the more I started thinking about it, the more I realized its still there.  Just so locked away and hidden it doesn’t come out often.  When I am with my Dad (my bdad for those followers) I am that person still.  The fun loving, outgoing, silly funny person.  The goofy one who loves to make him laugh.  The one who is always being cheerful and telling him to look at the bright side.  The Yellow me.  Yellow.  When I am with him, I can be yellow.

Every time else, I am Blue.  The emotional, feeling, intuitive, craves intimacy blue.  And I am blue with my Dad too, if it weren’t for the intimacy of our relationship (and NO intimacy does not mean SEX, at least not this definition of it) the yellow in me would never have come out.

So who the hell am I, the Yellow or the Blue?

And if core personalities don’t change, why do I gravitate towards blue?