Life Isn’t Easy

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?

 

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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 existence.

I have nothing left to hope for to get me out of my situation. That was the “last trick in the bag” that even came to me on the proverbial silver platter; it was supposed to be a guarantee, just not for me.

I don’t know what to do now. I’m so tired.

Jen