jengettinglost

Author name: Jennifer

home-page post, Mental Health Blog, Personal Life

Therapy, Emotional Confusion, Processing, Feeling Lost

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WARNING! Foul language ahead! I actually wrote this post a week ago, but I haven’t gotten around to uploading it since I’ve been busy with my return to work after my sick leave. The past two weeks of group therapy has been very revealing to me and left me feeling so mixed inside. Mixed because of my new understanding of what it means to have self compassion, mixed because I learned that my feelings won’t go away even after I accept them and choose to do what’s right for me, and mixed because I always thought that me caring so much was party of my personality and not a trauma response. I feel so confused as though I don’t know who I am and I don’t know what to identify with. I’m hurting because of what I spoke about in my last post, but I’m also hurting because I don’t understand if that hurt is real, an overreaction, or just all of my confusion. All the therapists in group would tell me “your feelings are valid” in response to me not knowing if the hurt is real, but honestly, it doesn’t make me feel any better. I thought that self compassion meant I shouldn’t be mad at myself or hard on myself if I don’t achieve a certain expectation I set, if I make a mistake, if something goes wrong in my life, if someone hurts me, to allow myself to stay in bed all day if I’m depressed, etc. I thought it meant that if I’m brought to tears by something or someone, that I shouldn’t blame myself for it and that I should be more understanding towards myself if I were to become depressed, anxious, or anything else that would cause me to respond in an unhealthy manner; to be gentle with myself. What I learned is that self-compassion means to do what is best for me even if it’s difficult and to understand that I will still feel all of the emotional pain from before making that decision because doing what’s good for me doesn’t mean it won’t hurt. When I was texting with a friend about this, I told him, “I need someone to explain to me what to do with my feelings ?“. He said “You feel them! lol”. Frustrated about my current situation, I replied to him “Where the fuck do you out them!? To stop feeling them? I thought my feelings would go away once I felt them? Like I’m done feeling them now.” He told me, “No lol.”, and I asked him, “Why no!? And why do you have to laugh when you say that!?”. He replied “Nope they stay. Because I know you rolled your eyes lol”. Thought to self…..I feel exposed ?,  and of course my reaction was ” Fuuuuck. Like WTF. I don’t fucking like this.” I shared this interaction with my one-on-one therapist and she reconfirmed what my friend told me, and she further explained that she believes I do everything that I do to protect myself (even when I’m trying to help other people) because I feel so unsafe in the world; I’m trying to protect myself from the pain I might feel by seeing them in pain; I want to get rid of all of the pain and not feel it. “Is she right?”, I thought to myself. I was confounded about this because then I wondered “If she’s right, am I acting selfishly? Am I really not a good person? Is this something else that I’m doing wrong now?”, and now, because I’ve been made aware of this disconnect between what’s happening inside of me and what I’m presenting externally, all I can wonder is “Do people really think I’m an asshole whenever I think I’m trying to help or show support?”. This hurts so much, I just want to isolate myself again and stop interacting with everyone. I feel like I’ll never do or say the right thing with other people. I wish people could understand how much is going on inside my head all the time. Six months into DBT group therapy and my one-on-one is only now telling me that she thinks she understands the way I think (at least that makes one of us). I’m so black and white, I’m so literal and concrete, I struggle with the grey and my brain is also continually working in the “should” (I should be this way, I should do this or I’ll be a bad person if I don’t, etc) is what she tells me, and because of this, I’m always reacting, always on the defence and always scanning for what can hurt me so I can protect myself from the pain. This is why she doesn’t want to give me rules to follow during my treatment process, since I’m always looking for instructions and rules so I can stay in the black and white because that’s so easy for me to understand. I become obsessed with following rules because those are my guidelines and I believe if I follow them, I’ll be “safe” and “good”; the unknown terrifies me because I don’t know how to protect myself in the world, with other people, and against my own judgement of myself. So, my self-compassion the past two weeks has been to actually continue what I’d typically do in daily life; continuing with exercise, engaging with friends and family, running errands, cleaning my home, eating, and not fall into the behaviour that I’d typically fall into, such as isolation and rumination. Of course this has now become easy for me to do (even if I’m still hurting) because of how clearly the concept was explained to me. I’ve done it again, I’ve gone ahead and made it black and white in my head and I can operate in a literal and concrete manner, exactly what I’m not supposed to be doing. I’m already annoyed and frustrated with myself. Jen

home-page post, Mental Health Blog, Personal Life

World Mental Health Day

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I’m feeling really sad today. Last night I got broken-up with, if it can even be called that. I was dating someone for a month, we both liked each other, but because of certain life circumstances the decision to not continue was made. I’m not angry or insulted and I don’t dislike the person for doing this; I actually respect him profoundly for taking the time to think about it, for sharing with me exactly how he was feeling, and for the respectful and caring way he made sure it didn’t impact me negatively. So yes, I’m sad to have found someone with all of the qualities that I’ve been looking for and to still not have it work-out, but I’m accepting of his decision in making sure he did what was best for him. This was the first time I’ve dated anyone since being diagnosed with BPD almost two years ago, and in all honesty I’ve been really nervous and worried for myself (I still am) because of how painful attachment and loss has been for me; it’s why I keep most people at a distance, even friends. But I’m so proud of how far I’ve come at managing my emotions (especially pain) since starting treatment. Two years ago this type of situation would have triggered a deep rooted hurt in me that I would have believed I was worthless or that my life didn’t have any value unless someone was in it, especially since I grew up being educated in all of the colourful ways that this was the case. Today however, I love and respect myself more, I see and know my value, my life feels fuller, and I’m better at understanding other peoples actions and words aren’t a reflection of my worth. I’m sharing this experience and these details with you because it’s so difficult for outsiders to truly understand how mental illness and mental health veritably touches every single facet of a persons life, way of thinking and way of acting, and what an outsider may see (if they see anything at all) is just the figurative tip of an iceberg. Today is World Mental Health Day and all of last week was Mental Illness Awareness Week. These dates are so incredibly important to me that the last few weeks I’ve had them in my mind, wondering what I can do to make a difference. Last year I held a very personal and candid public talk to try to raise awareness and raise funds for the hospital that saved my life and helped me through treatment. This year, well, if I’m not going to lie, I feel a bit defeated. Last year, no one donated and I felt hopeless because of it, so since I’ve been sick with long-covid for the past two months, I have fallen into using the excuse that I was too sick and exhausted to prepare anything. How can a person share with other people that they almost died, that they were on the verge of killing themselves and that they had to walk into a hospital emergency to prevent it from happening, that the mental health specialists at that hospital are the reason this person is here today, and then for the people listening to this not want to donate in support to a hospital that is so considerably underfunded they’re not able to treat everyone? It was so difficult for me not to take this personal. I felt like a failure, and as someone with BPD, my mind was equating the lack of donations to the value of my life, zero. “My life, the fact that I’m alive, isn’t important to people otherwise if it was, they would have made a donation to show it, in thanks for helping me stay alive.”, is what I kept telling myself. This is what my mental illness looks like. For the weeks following my talk, not seeing any donations coming in, I kept asking myself “Did they hear me when I said I wanted to kill myself and I had to go to the hospital to make sure I didn’t?”, “Did they not care when I said I was struggling to get the attention of professionals for a year and was even hung-up on (after I explicitly said I wanted to kill myself) by 811 and told that I need to stay on the waiting list?” “Why did I even bother opening up to people about my struggles? It did nothing and I violated my own privacy by doing so. I never should have done so. Now everyone knows these personal details about me and it didn’t help anyone or anything.” Part of my work is to try to understand the grey in life. My thinking is very black and white and I struggle enormously when things are not blatantly clear, when they’re grey and ambiguous. I don’t know what to think of them, my brain doesn’t know how to classify them and I feel like I’m grasping at straws trying to make sense of them; truly at a blank. My brain LOVES working in definitives. I spoke with my Revered and with the Manager of the Saint-Mary’s Hospital Foundation, sharing my thoughts and feelings with them, and they both tried very hard to help me see the positive in what I had done, reminding me that even though I didn’t manage to collect any donations, sharing my story will help others going through the same struggles feel less alone and less helpless. My therapist told me “I truly believe you do not have one mean intention inside of you” and that she thinks I’m trying to heal my own pain by taking away the pain of others. Those words were so painful to hear, I had to sit there in silence because I wasn’t able to say anything, and when I finally could, I said to her “I don’t want anyone else to feel the pain that I know and

home-page post, Mental Health Blog, Personal Life

Escape – Escaping – Escapism

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When I started solo traveling, it was a way for me to escape the pain I was in. I was struggling so much in my life; the onslaught of debilitating injuries, mental health issues, financial issues and abuse left me feeling like my life was purposeless and had no value. Like many other people, I thought I could run from everything; at least to a different country that is. I thought if I went somewhere else, somewhere new, that I could create a new story for myself, that I’d be too distracted and happy to feel anything else, and that I’d feel like I was finally experiencing something or doing something with my life. I thought it would change me, “fix” my problems and make me a different person. For many people, this is what solo travel is. It’s an escape. A way to break free from the monotony of daily life and routine activities, or stepping away from the pressures and responsibilities of work, family, and daily obligations to reduce stress. Maybe it’s the fantasy of having a new life somewhere else? In my case, solo travel wasn’t any of these things. Solo travel for me, was leading an anonymous existence; going somewhere where no one knew who I was, somewhere I didn’t necessarily have to engage or commit to any social obligations, somewhere I could ponder, reflect, think deeply, and gain new insight (ahem… ruminate) on my own thoughts so that I could heal from the emotional and physical trauma I was dealing with, so that I could fight my anxiety and fears about the challenges of being totally on my own without anyone to help me in a foreign place, all so that I could feel like I was capable of achieving something. Back in April, two weeks into my group therapy, I had a bad experience with one of the therapists that propelled me into a rollercoaster of emotions that left me completely drained and on edge. At home, avoiding all communication with the hospital and hysterical about going back to the program, I fell victim to my own vices, and just as I did back in 2016 when I first started solo travelling, I started looking for an escape in any way possible; an escape from my emotions, an escape from the discomfort, an escape from the “problem”. If I avoid it, it doesn’t exist. If it doesn’t exist, it’s not a problem. And if there’s no problem, I can be fine! Completely logical and makes total sense, until of course the “problem” comes to find me and give me a reality check! I realized quickly how I was acting impulsively and irrationally in my attempt to cope with what I couldn’t control, because I’m much more self-aware of my coping strategies now which tend to be eating and watching tv to distract me from the stress and anxiety I feel, and turning to God to see the beauty in His word and in life so I can feel peace. I started to rewatch the Messiah because of how deeply it affected me, I listened to enlightening podcasts, and I looked for more books to read similar to my favourites, The Prophet and The Alchemist. It was then in that period of mindfulness that I decided when I do travel again, I need to dedicate my next trip to doing a pilgrimage because of how important it is for me to deepen my connection with my faith and the glory of this world while doing what I love. My therapist told me that running is my M.O. I struggle to face my anxieties and problems in a constructive manner. It only makes sense that I find reprieve in isolation, disconnection and avoidance,  but perhaps rather than running from, I can look at my next solo travel as running into? Running into what I believe most in and reminding myself that I need to surrender my control because not only is it unrealistic to be able to control everything in life, but also because I already know that I don’t actually control any of it. Well, I’ll let you know how that pans-out because you know you’ll be hearing from me about this again! As always, thank you for taking the time to read, and please leave a comment and share if you’ve had similar experiences or you’re currently feeling the same way. Jen  

home-page post, Mental Health Blog

Life Isn’t Easy

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I want to preface this post by saying that I started writing it back in August but took a break from it because I wrote it at a time when I wasn’t doing well, I needed to get my thoughts and emotions out, and I worried it might be too heavy to share. I then realized that my blog wouldn’t be entirely truthful (or realistic) if I didn’t share these moments with you; these moments of struggles, of intense thoughts and emotions, of catasrophization and spiralling that can make me feel like I’m in a gavitron or on a rollercoaster. I’m so good at hiding all of that and only showing people the happy side of me, that no-one really understands the impact of BPD on my life and people often forget that I’m not always okay. I ended up getting sick with Long-covid and have still be on medical leave from work since writing this post, but in a way I’m grateful; although seriously sick, I was able to get a better grip on myself since I wasn’t dealing with work triggers (ahem…. erratic customers) and I could just completely check-out and rest; in retrospect something I so evidently needed. Life still isn’t easy, but when I’m in a better more stable frame of mind, it’s a lot easier for me to understand that the world isn’t actually coming to an end even though my brain would really love to convince me of that, I’m able to put my faith back into God and I can regain trust in that path that He has me on. There’s a reason for everything in life, maybe this blog and me sharing the hidden side of mental illness is the reason for me?     I’m really struggling right now. I’m struggling to stay in my DBT, I’m struggling to support myself financially, I’m struggling in my job; I’ve been hanging on by a thread for so long that that thread has finally started to fray. I’m so stressed that I haven’t been sleeping at night, and I find myself spending HOURS looking at property websites in Europe with the deluded thought, “maybe I’ll be happier if I move there? I’m failing at life here.” I wake up in the middle of the night in a panic, trying to find some quick solution to the feelings I don’t want to feel, so I start looking at European properties again without realizing that I’m in fight-flight-freeze mode and my go to seems to be flight. Everything is flight for me; I don’t want the feelings and emotions to sink in. I actually believed I had been doing well (clearly I was in denial) because I was “hanging-on”, but hanging-on isn’t doing well. Hanging-on is being stuck in limbo, which is exactly where I was. For an entire year I have been hanging onto hope knowing that things would improve once I was promoted out of my entry level role (yes at 42, soon to be 43 years-old with a university degree, I’m still entry level); I’d actually be able to afford basic necessities, never mind even spending any amount of money on even the smallest luxury. I keep blaming myself for everything in life. I don’t understand how every person I know (both younger and older, and both less educated or more educated) has accomplished so much more than I have and is also earring a salary that is tens of thousands more than mine. I keep asking myself “where did I go wrong? What have I done wrong that I don’t even deserve to have a job that pays me a liveable income to the point that I am living below the poverty line in the year 2024? Why don’t employers or recruiters think I’m of any value for positions that I’m actually qualified for?” Spiralling into “Why am I still alone? Why does no one want to date me or why has no one ever even wanted to marry me?”  Careers, love, family, financial security; maybe things always look perfect from the outside and maybe it’s not always possible to have them all, but why do I seem so unworthy of all of them even when I keep trying so hard? Catastrophising is a symptom of many mental illnesses, and the thoughts are very painful. I work for a bank, one of the Big Five. They’re constantly making statements that they’re an equal opportunity employer, that they support diversity and mental health, and that they care about their employees. The irony is that, not only do they give an annual raise significantly less than the percentage of inflation, making it impossible to keep up with the drastically increasing cost of living, but I also got passed for a job promotion today (a job I was actually supposed to be promoted to a year ago but missed out because the acquisition officer thought I had already been promoted elsewhere, so I’ve had to wait an entire year to try again) because they’re unable to support my medical accommodation in the new position. My medical accommodation that allows me to go to the hospital every week for DBT to treat BPD. A year hanging on by a thread, collecting debt, missing payments, fasting because I can’t afford to eat every day, trying to apply elsewhere and unable to get a single interview, to now being told that I can’t be promoted because of a medical reason that I don’t have control over. I can’t change it, there’s nothing I can do about it. Let that sink in for a moment and then consider the fear I was flooded with. “Everything is going to stop me. No matter what I try doing, everything is going to stop me because I don’t deserve to be okay. That’s the point. I understand now.” I feel like the example for everyone else, of what not to become. This is what a failure is. This is wasted

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