Drop into hell

Today is just another day, or so it should be in my head but instead it is doomsday for my psyche. The official day my mom died. I'm so torn between intensely missing her because my identity depended on her to an unhealthy degree and being terrified of her because I can still hear her criticizing, imperious voice/ghost and being incredibly angry at what she did to me over the years. So all of these crazy intensely negative emotions fuel my addictions more so now I'm tripping out to music while high on weed and shrooms. Later I'll have some lines and a drink or two and certainly more weed. Yes I know they will all make me worse but it's so I avoid acting on the voice in my head, the part of me brainwashed by my mom's words when I was little that just wants to destroy me. I had a fantasy that became a serious plan, to take all the prescription pills I have and some Tylenol, have a few drinks and show up to my psychologist appointment and tell him what I did at the end of the session. So fucking stupid but part of me is trying to force the rest of me to do it and it's winning out except for the fact that my brother called my old pastor and a church friend so they are both coming for dinner tonight which is really nice of them so I'm trying harder to be in one piece by the end of the day so they don't come all the way out to my house for nothing. After that though, I don't know how I will keep fighting my stupid self. Meanwhile, all the drugs are making my reality so dark and painful because they make me super-sensitive to everything, every single experience is overwhelming. Even the affection from my bf is overwhelming now, I have to tell him to dial it down which is really something because I'm normally the passionate one. Simple tasks and errands/chores are also overwhelmingly stressful now. Also too paranoid about people I don't know or don't know very well so that adds more stress. Just walking in public is a huge deal because I just want to hide from everyone. Asking for help is hard too because if they do, it feels like my situation is worse than I want to believe so it's good my brother did that for me for today at least. Oh great, the poster of the solar system is coming to life like animated 3D right in front of my eyes and I have to go see my psychologist in an hour.

how L is doing

So I got a chance to talk to L at my friend's house but it didn't go quite the way I expected. The good news is that she's trying. She doesn't want to die and is in fact scared of it. She appreciated my insightful words and now we're good friends. I call her almost everyday to see how she's doing and just share. But boy did my other friend get in the way that night! He decided to get drunk, then stoned then high on blow and got so chatty and kept interrupting me and yelling things like "I'm gonna put your head in a lock and force feed you a turkey!" to L. I had to restrain myself I was getting angry and frustrated but it's ok since I've had more time with her without him around (I was stoned and high too). Even though she's not sure she believes, she actually asked me to come to small group and church! She came to both each once now and she loved it! I'm so happy she can meet nice people who can care for her. She told me she was completely isolated from everyone, stuck in a depression and believing everyone is dangerous. But in group she became very chatty and people enjoyed talking with her just as much as she did with them. She felt that they were very good people and wants to come back! I'm just happy she can get prayed for now and won't feel that no one would care if she died which is what she told me earlier. The not so great news is that she's around 85 pounds and only eats 300 calories in vegetables a day. She thinks it's enough and in fact sees nothing but fat in the mirror. I told her we can help each other out and keep each other company in our dark times that we're both having. And hopefully we can both face our past pain and get healed by God and live free and happy.

what do you do?!

What do you do when you see someone slowly dying in front of your eyes because they are in complete, hopeless despair and don't want to live anymore? My good friend who passed away almost exactly a year ago was the one in despair and slowly killing himself with drugs. Me and mutual friends tried to talk to him, told him rehab could really help. His mom still cries to me when she talks about all the ER visits and trips to doctors to get him help but he always refused it and since he was considered of sound mind, she couldn't do anything about it since he still had his right to say no. We did our best but he would always turn the tables around and say, "well what about you?" when we suggested rehab and that would always shut us up. It still makes me guilty to know I was always too high and in despair myself to really help him. And now he's gone, he just didn't wake up one day. Now I mention all this because there is another mutual friend from the psych ward who I'll call L and she's diagnosed with borderline personality disorder like me. But where my main BPD problem is substance abuse, hers is anorexia and she's literally starving herself to death. She actually went down to 61 lbs had seizures, had cardiac arrest twice in the ambulance and stayed in the ICU for at least 2 weeks. She has a cute little son and she doesn't want to live. It's like watching my old friend die all over again. So I scream again, "WHAT DO YOU DO?! when you witness someone going through this deadly hopeless destructive despair?? Have a glass of mead, ok just partially kidding. These people need help but they refuse it. But it's still such a tragedy when they lose their lives. It's a symptom of their issues that they refuse. I can't just stand by idly as they march towards their untimely deaths in front of my eyes. I don't know her that well but I've got to do something. At least try my best to reach out to her, tell her it will get better or something. Bring hope. I used to think hope was just a trivial concept from Disney movies but that's not true at all. In these cases it makes the difference between life and death. The only reason I'm alive today after all I've been through and all the terrible hopeless despair I felt is my faith in Jesus. He always gave me hope that things would get better, at least in heaven if not here. Anyways, that's my goal. I'm gonna try to get some private chat time with her and try to give her some hope. And pray. And that's the best I can do.

so up and down

One can argue it is the nature of having BPD and/or spiritually it is the devil trying to get me down after any positive success in my life but a friend from church noticed how I went from telling her everything was going very well to I'm so depressed and discouraged I couldn't do anything today in a span of a couple days. Spiritually I guess it is the devil attacking me and trying to stop any progress I make but earthly reality speaking it's really a combination of things. A few days ago I felt that I was struggling but not too much and therapy is going very well and it's been helpful. I've been trying a few techniques to distract and soothe myself when something distressing happens and it's not as good as drugs or alcohol but still helps a bit. I felt like I was on the road to getting better and dealing with my issues. Then I went out with friends and made the mistake of getting bottle service and got so tanked I couldn't walk or see. Then smoked up, and had a small mushroom before that. Which reminded me of how I used coke almost all last week. All together it's not looking so good. I sure do spend alot of time either drunk/high, thinking about when I'll do it, how to get it, how much to use etc... And I can't picture life without it all. Now I feel trapped and discouraged and depressed about it. And admitted it to my therapist today so I don't know, he might suggest stopping therapy but I hope not. But I also know my use is getting in the way. I can't remember distressing situations as much so I can't practice learning to deal with them differently. So ok I just need to cut down, but that's proving difficult too. Well, I do remember some distressing dreams that ruined the rest of the day. I dreamt that my mom was alive but treating me like she did when I was small so the whole dream I was just afraid of her and constantly worried about her opinion of whatever I was doing. It was so stressful. And when I woke up I just missed her and felt pain from being reminded of what it was like growing up. Another distressing situation happened today when my dad started talking about how nice it was to have small children around to form a family and how he didn't realize it until we had grown up. I remembered how indifferent he seemed to me when I was little and how unhappy my mom was to have to take care of me. I immediately felt physical pain from my memories that sapped my energy. I've got to find a way to deal with it and move on so it doesn't hurt so much anymore.

importance of QT

So, I'm still doing my best to spend some quiet time with God everyday in the morning and boy what a difference it makes. When I do it I can feel God's presence, love and peace from His benevolence. My days are relatively clear on what I need to do and life seems to have purpose. When I forget or somehow just don't spend time with Him (especially a few days in a row) I get more depressed, feel like I'm doing nothing with my life and going nowhere, hate myself as stupid and spoiled and end up drinking and drugging more. And of course the more I do them the more the cycle of suffering spins with hangovers and withdrawals. Truly if I am to get through life it is only by God's grace and spending time with Him through Jesus. My pastor also told me and my brother to read passages like Isaiah 49:9- together and decree them over me to believe and declare that God will heal and free me from my issues and lead me to help others too. She keeps saying I'm beautiful and will be specially powerful in the Holy Spirit which is jarring for me to hear from a relative stranger and considering all my mental health problems. But I do believe God can heal anything and anyone. Even as I spend more time with Him I notice that my borderline personality tendencies go down. I just can't freak out about things as much. And then it's shocking how unstable my normal state is when I don't spend time with Him. On Friday I felt like there was no point to my life and living when we left late to go have supper before service with everyone. Sounds ridiculous but that's how far it goes when I get stressed since I'm hypersensitive. But when I have the peace that transcends all understanding I don't get that stressed in the first place over small things.

stupidly scared of sponsors

Geez. I always think I want to do the right thing and then when I try to do it, I realize I don't because I'm crazy scared. I went to a random AA meeting tonight (especially since I'd be home alone) and what I thought I wanted started happening. Two nice ladies started talking to me, took me out for coffee and spoke of the importance of being connected to the AA program through other people and having a sponsor. A sponsor being someone who you call everyday, knows how you're doing and supports you and guides you through the 12 steps to sobriety. I've been looking for one since I knew it's important to have one but it's been hard to trust people and find the right person. Finally, I figured since I liked one of the ladies and she's 8 years sober, I should ask her to be my temporary sponsor and it was a bit scary but I managed to get the words out of my mouth and she accepted. And then it hit me. I felt completely traumatized by what I just did. She asked me what was wrong and said it looked like I got hit by a truck. The look on my face was pure fear. It felt like I just jumped off a cliff. I guess it's fear of possible conflict, of commitment, of change. And I had no idea I would react like this. I just figured I want to do the right thing which is to get a sponsor to help me stay clean. I hate how unaware I can be of my own true feelings. I blame that on my BPD. Now I feel drained and tired from my tense emotional response. And of course it made me feel like drinking to numb the intensity but not that badly so I'm still sober. I hope this is what You want God. Please help me not freak out so much.

quitting and trying trying

I'm pissed off at my addiction therapist. I know it's partly me projecting my feelings about myself onto her but I'm also sure she is indeed frustrated and impatient with me. A couple days ago she confronted me about the fact that I drank almost everyday the week I got out of detox and said that if I used anything one more time they're going to kick me out of the program. Fine. But then she went on and on about how I sabotage my own treatment and don't move forward and I said I guess it's fear and she said, "fear of growing up?" So what if it is? I need help with it then! And then she says I'm ambivalent about quitting, sitting on the fence and I'd say that's true but that's also a trait of BPD, I'm not doing it on purpose and it's going to take me longer to change it than the average person because I suffer from BPD. I said change is going to be slower for me because of the disorder and she dismissed me as if I'm just using the diagnosis as an excuse. She said it's just a label like bipolar, depression, schizophrenia. When I see her next I'm going to tell her that such people with those other diagnoses still have an easier time with change since they can still make decisions unfettered, though probably sometimes misguided. The nature of my issues directly affect my ability to stick with decisions and follow through since I'm on a roller-coaster of intense emotions and misperceptions that change several times a day. And then she had the nerve to say I shouldn't get more in-patient treatment because I get comfortable and then don't try hard enough to change. That is complete bullshit. I need more help, not less and not all patchy as it is at this center. Being in rehab in December for 28 days was not long enough to truly change since changing one's personality takes even more time than changing habits. She's saying I shouldn't get more help because I'm afraid of change and thus will sabotage myself. But I still want to change so WTF?! It's obvious that only the Holy Spirit can heal me. Stupid professionals.

anointed

I just went to a different church's Friday youth service that my brother had been going to and encountered God the Healer there. He spoke through the leader straight to me and it was a wonderful confirmation of what little faith I did have. The leader was moved to pray for me and speak with me, like God was expecting to meet me there at that moment. And I could finally feel God's love for me and was assured that He will indeed heal me and the leader prophesied what I had always innately felt; that God has a great purpose for me and my suffering and that's why Satan has been working so hard to destroy me. I've felt deeply called by God since I was 9 but I also started suffering psychologically and spiritually and by the time I was 13 I was acting out and clinically depressed, with occasional but scary hallucinations. That's why I have a tattoo of a gear on fire. It's me being purified by God's fire, there is a purpose to all my suffering and it's so nice to be reminded of that truth. I'm going to start attending this church and the Friday service regularly. Afterall my current pastor even admitted to me I need a more consistent congregation who can properly love me as brothers and sisters in Christ. I know the struggling isn't over yet but finally I can see some relief. The true solution is in sight and I know Jesus can heal me on a more fundamental level than any psychiatric ward, rehab or therapy program can. Of course that doesn't mean they're not useful or that I wont take advantage of them but they can't fill the God-shaped void inside. The leader anointed me with oil for healing but also for the future service I will do in God's name which is what I've always wanted for my life, even more than drugs.

white knuckling it

I got kicked out of the hospital 2 days ago, well not really but it felt like it. On Monday I overdosed on sleeping pills, prayed that I would find some peace in heaven but yet again I didn't die. I was allowed to take short outings from the ward so that's when I got the pills, took them all in a hospital bathroom and then went back to the ward to enjoy a last meal but my roommate noticed I looked ill, called a nurse over and then I woke up in the ICU. Apparently I fell in front of everybody and had a seizure and they had to call a code blue on me (when a patient goes into cardiac arrest I think). Soon after I was conscious again they released me back to the ward where they discharged me just 2 days later as planned. Yes I was admitted as a detox patient but now you're going to release me just as my psychiatric problems get worse? They're the reasons why I started doing drugs in the first place and now I'm supposed to stay clean by myself?! I'm still going to the Day program everyday but that's still only 2 hours of support everyday from 24 hours everyday. So now I feel like I'm white knuckling it, living as an addict without the substances and hating being sober. I already had 2 beers as soon as I got home because they were there and I couldn't help myself. This is the most insane struggle I've ever found myself in. I pray I didn't go through 2 and a half weeks of detox for nothing.

cleaning up

We actually get one hour of internet access each day so here I am writing from a psychiatric ward and this place is a hotel compared to the other psych ward I went 4 times to. There are still unstable people I have to deal with, like a lady who's really loud and steals other people's stuff all the time. I keep my music player and expensive headset around my neck at all times. I have a nice and quiet roommate and the staff are amazing. They don't seem to let anyone fall through the cracks. The nurses always make sure to know how you are doing and like to sit down and talk with you if you're upset. It wasn't always that way at the other ward, some were downright condescending and rude. But sometimes the days are long as I get used to being clean so I read the Bible more (finally) and I started a journal where I only write positive things that happened that day.
It's quite the battle though because I'm fighting my addiction and also the borderline personality crap that comes up when I'm sober. They've had to put me in the isolation room twice because I got too upset and self-destructive. Once it was because I couldn't deal with mourning for my friend who recently passed away from being an addict (couldn't deal much with it before since the drugs would take the pain away) and the other time was because it was Mother's Day and that morning my mom was in my dreams. The dream itself wasn't that negative but anytime she's in my dreams I get upset when I wake up and I'm in an emotionally vulnerable state withdrawing from weed right now. My first reaction when she appeared in my dream was oh shit. Everything has to be perfect because she's going to judge and criticize and yell at me, as if I was my childhood self again. But I had a lucid moment later and made up a sword because I knew enemies were coming and she silently approved of it. Maybe that's some sort of spiritual sign.

spiritually blinded

Sticking to one a day is now officially extremely difficult. I still can't stop smoking right after waking up and my bad old self keeps reappearing when I'm sober which is about half the day or more. And boy do I hate being my bad old self. There's an overwhelming amount of negativity inside me and it's easily triggered by just getting upset over anything. And it often snowballs into an episode of BPD-fueled dysphoria. No words can truly describe it but it's like I'm being painfully tortured by my own sick mind, like the dark and negative thoughts and feelings will never stop pouring out of me. I got triggered yesterday because the psych ward called me saying there will be a free bed for detox but like I've said here, I thought my therapist said I didn't need it and I got so conflicted inside, just trying to figure out if I should go or not and it was so upsetting being caught in between two choices. Plus the nurse basically just hung up on me when I said I wasn't sure I was going in so I got upset enough to get emotionally triggered which results in life feeling like hell. I tried my best to deal with it. Of course, the old plan of action came up automatically; I must relieve the unbearable pain so should I smoke up more? Drink again? Cut myself? Take alot of pills at once if it gets really bad? The compulsion to act on these ideas was so strong but I fought in my head, arguing that the drugs will only make everything worse, including the immense emotional pain. Cutting isn't good either but it's not that bad in the long term because I don't go very deep at all, so I did that. It helped for an hour or so. I also spent 4 hours singing my lungs out to my favorite songs and delaying any action to buy alcohol, called a good friend and called my psychologist for support. These little things (suggested coping skills) I did were helpful somewhat. I managed to not drink since I kept saying, just another hour without taking anything. And another and so on. But it was awful to get through and I still ended up hurting myself. I hate being in this very unstable state, not being sure if I'll make it to the end of the day ok.
Why do I suffer like this if Jesus has already beaten the devil and sin on the cross? I believe in it. I think the answer is that BPD means I'm spiritually very blinded. I can't truly see and experience God's love for me since I hate myself and my emotional instability easily takes over my perceptions and even my physical senses and any sort of stable foundation within, including my faith. Maybe I don't really have faith then. Isn't it supposed to be unshakeable? And it's not like I stop believing either, it's just that crazy turbulent emotions put me through the wringer big time and take over everything sometimes. So I just don't know. I don't know if anything's really worth it, if my effort counts for anything at all. What do you want from me Lord, what?? What's the point of all this... But what's the alternative? I know it doesn't look like much but I am doing my best to take care of myself since I know that's what God wants and I've just got to keep doing so, even if it doesn't look like it's enough. I guess that's got to be some sort of faith because I wouldn't keep trying to live right for my own sake that's for sure.

kindness from strangers

I'm surprised I haven't been freaking out about it but I'm starting to I think, since May is coming up. And I remembered what I was doing this time last year but I want to be thankful. I had overdosed on some random pills just trying to end the pain, mourning and insanity in my head. I ended up in the ER once again and the next day, when my family doctor was working and said hi but didn't pay me more attention, I yanked the IV out of my arm and got blood everywhere and ran. It was the anniversary of my mother's death so I decided to walk to the cemetery nearby to pray and with nothing but a bloody hospital gown and socks in the cold spring morning. Eventually a passerby decided to call police on me meanwhile an employee of the hospital on her way to work stopped and talked with me, made sure I was ok and gave me a cigarette. She wanted to drive me back to the ER but I still wanted to go to the cemetery so she waited with me till police came. That was very kind of her but I'm not sure I was able to voice that at the time. And then the two police officers who came were even more kind. They drove me to the cemetery, answered my questions about ticket quotas (yes they use them), picked me some flowers at the cemetery and then drove me back to the ER. Wow they were absolute gentlemen and didn't judge me as just another crazy person! So I want to thank them and the lady for showing me kindness when I needed it the most. I hope to do the same for someone else someday.

a proper comparison

It's going alright so far with just one a day. I just really look forward to the 4 times a day I have a couple tokes. Otherwise I'm cooking, doing a little gardening, hanging out with my bro and the occasional friends. But I figured I should do an official comparison of the pros and cons of smoking, now that I'm more aware of both than ever before. It's crazy all the contradictory things it does to me and I want to motivate myself more by keeping the cons in mind. Eventually it is just untenable to continue in addiction.
Let's start with the pros:
- relaxation, muscles relax, calming
- dopamine rush, euphoria, happy feelings, temporary energy
- fun visual distortions, closed-eye visuals, music from nowhere and tripping
- stimulated creative thinking
- heightened perception of visual details, makes everything look magical
- opens up spiritual planes of existence
- distracts me from problems, personal issues
- prevents BPD driven episodes of self-destructiveness temporarily

Cons:
- exacerbates emotional issues stemming from my Borderline Personality Disorder: I become more emotionally unstable and paranoid of others.
- aggravates my asthma, I'm also allergic to smoke
- takes over and replaces most other pleasurable activities in my life
- sucks up my creative passions (don't play instruments or do artwork)
- withdrawal symptoms: agitated, insomnia, even more emotionally sensitive than usual
- hides issues and problems from myself, can't be aware of everything or work on self-improvement
- upsets chemical balances in my brain
- costs money, takes effort to roll and smoke undetected several times a day
- possible DUIs/accidents/problems with law
- lower motivation, less energy and ability to focus
- eventually leads to more mental instability and BPD episodes of self-destructiveness: emotional boomerang effect where negative feelings/thoughts I try to avoid come back with a vengeance.
- interferes with prescribed meds
- influences me to want to take other drugs eventually
- slowly keep wanting and smoking more and more, exacerbating all the cons

Happy Resurrection Day!

Mentioning the word Easter only makes me think of silly white bunnies and chocolate eggs. How ridiculously trivial compared to the amazing event of the Son of God dying and coming back to life to save me and all humanity from sin and death! Truly, our faith as Christians is founded on Resurrection Day because that's when Jesus rose victorious over all evil. But of course, this is the ultimate reality of the universe and not what we experience everyday and that's what trips me up like crazy. My pastor mentioned this in his sermon yesterday when he said that if you don't see Jesus' victory then you won't have the confidence, joy and assurance that comes with knowing God's love. Instead we tend to focus on the grave, on what seems impossible, on all the negativity in the world. I definitely do that but I just can't help it, I don't know if my BPD makes it harder to have faith in something I can't physically sense directly and am more sensitive to our fallen state. Thus I am thankful for at least this time of the year to focus on something I have trouble believing is the true reality. After all the apostle Paul said "I want to know Jesus and the power of the Resurrection!" So I should identify with the cross everyday and remind myself that the Resurrection guarantees my own resurrection one day.
My pastor made the very astute observation that before they saw and believed that Jesus resurrected, the disciples had shaky faith and were sometimes downright idiotic. But later they changed the whole world because their perspective was completely transformed. After knowing Jesus came back to life and beating sin and the devil, they counted on miracles as regular occurrences with the Holy Spirit and every Christian can do this too, even today. There are miracles happening everyday all over the world but we close our eyes to them since we don't even believe they're possible. I know now that my disorder shuts my eyes and keeps me drawn to the evil and suffering so I have to try doubly hard to keep meditating and focusing on the true reality of Jesus' victory and that he suffered out of pure love for me. Unfortunately no one can love perfectly as I intensely crave from those around me but Jesus the Creator Incarnate does.

one a day

Starting today I have decided on a concession between the two approaches to quitting: slowly reducing and going cold turkey. I am sticking to one joint a day and I'm going to break it up into just a couple tokes at a time. Then tell them how it went in 3 days. So far it's already a bit up and down. I still get stoned but it doesn't last as long, so when my head is a bit more clear sometimes distressing thoughts or memories pop in. But so far it's sufficient for me to use the trick of seeing them as objects flowing in a river; they will pass so there's no need to hold on to them and freak out. I have to just let the negativity and cravings for alcohol and cocaine pass. I can't believe my brain is so hooked it just keeps craving other drugs while I try to quit another. That's a pretty big sign of being an addict. I guess it's about endurance now and keeping busy.
Also, I think a part of me agreed to this because the people at the center said I should go into detox at the psych ward but now they say the opposite and that I'm scared for nothing, it won't be as bad as before. Well I guess we'll see who's right then. Might as well start cutting down and if I start losing it or having episodes, then they can see for themselves what I've been afraid of since I'll be there everyday. It's like I need to prove how unwell I am. Which is stupid but I can't help but worry that it's all just in my head. Maybe I just think I'm unwell, I can't tell and it's frustrating. I'm further confused by my psychologist saying that personality disorders are not mental illnesses. So what the heck am I suffering from? I understand it's not entirely biologically based but it is partly. So what do you call them then?
And then I worry that I got addicted on purpose so that I have something to identify with and places where I can belong as someone who needs help with substance abuse because as someone suffering from BPD, there is nowhere or any group I can belong to and get help except for one DBT group that only starts once a year. It just makes me feel like such an outcast, like I crave attention for nothing and don't have any real problems. This thought is so distressing it makes me want to use more but instead I'll show them what happens to me without more drugs even if it means I become more self-destructive. Even in group in the day program others can't relate to my BPD problems. My issues honestly make me as if I'm on drugs or suffering withdrawal even when I'm not but for the others, they get better after just a little clean time. Lucky bastards, if only through a selfish point of view.

empathy turned inwards

I read recently in a study that people with BPD are extremely good at telling what people's emotional states are by just looking at their eyes. This made sense to me because I always felt I could tell pretty well myself and because it is like a survival mechanism. During childhood I had to figure out some way of knowing when someone might blow up because that could ruin my whole world for the day. It's funny though because at the same time we suck at interpreting certain social cues, espcially when we're stressed. There was a sample of the test they used where you see a photo of someone's eyes and you have to guess what emotional state they're in. It was multiple choice but I decided not to look at the options to make it harder. It was a funny sensation when I took a good look at the photo of the eyes. Their dark pupils seemed to swallow me up for a second and then I could feel the emotion I saw: panic. So I looked at the answer and it was indeed panic. So that was neat. Then I checked out some of the comments and one person pointed out, if you look at another person with BPD you see emptiness in their eyes. I thought about this and realized it is true. I see it in my reflection and I remember seeing it in others' eyes who also had BPD. I think it's because we have no consistent sense of self and instead feels like there's a black hole inside, constantly threatening to destroy everything.

Is extreme fashionable? really?

Ever since I was 12 I noticed I tended to like things on the extreme side of things, like dressing punk, then goth, wanting tattoos, acting out in class (when I wasn't as quiet as a mouse), generally feeling alienated and like a rebel. And ever since, I've noticed pop culture glorifying it all and becoming more and more extreme itself. I guess it started a while ago in Hollywood but where's it all headed? We get so caught up in the rebel ideal in our naive teens and then as a young adult... Doesn't it make it harder to mature and take on more responsibility? Well, I guess most people turn out fine either way but what about us vulnerable ones? I wasn't extreme just to be cool, it was more the suffering from BPD developing but I wonder now for the ones who did. I'm sure they've all had to pay for their anti-social behaviour while trying to be accepted and some probably fell into addiction that way, or pick up bad life-long habits like smoking or unwanted tattoos etc... All to be cool for a while. Though I guess in a way it's a phase that's necessary to form your own identity but I think I'm a bit stuck in it. Try as hard as I might, I just can't seem to see myself as anything coherent or consistent. My pastor likes to remind me that Christ gives me my identity since I'm Christian and I do believe this, but I can't see or feel or experience it much. The only explanation is my BPD is impeding me. Otherwise, nothing is stopping me from fully living a Christ-filled life since I already believe and understand the concept of being a child of God, being loved as God loved His only Son.
Meanwhile it grates on my nerves, this rebel pop culture, when I see it around me. Like my good girl friends having bad-ass boyfriends (but with jerk tendencies since they've almost all got big issues). Very few are just nice guys. One can't stop drinking if he's at a bar or club where he feels it's a competition of who can drink the most and then breaks up with my friend twice and doesn't remember it, another is verbally abusive and probably has BPD himself, another loves to put everyone down around him since he's so insecure, one has a problem with the drink too and used to be a skinhead etc... And of course there's my last ex, who's a criminally insane addict (no exaggerating, we met in the psych ward and he transfered from a jail for the mentally ill) who has recently relapsed and is back to stealing and dealing. Is it just guys have more issues generally than women? Or that women are influenced by the rebel pop culture and want a badass for themselves? Or both? Or, humans are just all conflicted individuals? My friend with the over-competitive macaq of a boyfriend told me recently that out of our mutual college friends, I'm the coolest and I would be the least embarrasing to introduce to her other friends. That's nice and all but I think she's seeing through the pop culture lens that I am like the rebel, breaking rules seemingly out of cool self-posession. But really I'm in panicked desperation most of the time, too stressed to always pay attention to rules. There isn't really much that's cool about me underneath. I'm addicted, not in school or work and struggling with myself everyday. How is that cool or good in any way? And so as all Hollywood concepts do, the 'cool' me goes up in smoke in front of the complex truth. And no my naive 12 year old self, it's not cool to be self-involved and careless, alienated and full of angst. And so it shouldn't be cool to look it either. Of course, this does not mean I should or will give up my affinity for dark fashion styles any time soon.

like a deal with the devil

So I might not be the first to notice but doing psychoactive drugs on a regular basis is like making a deal with the devil. I don't even see at first how desperate a move it is, to basically say "I'll pay anything to feel better, for any bit of relief from myself." And how easy it is when you only have to pay more later. At first it looks like you only pay with your money but then you have to pay more later with your health, sanity and spiritual life. Then it claws back the benefits it used to give you so that you're forced to use only to function and eventually it can take everything, running you into the grave. And I can see all of this now happening in my life. I used to think that eventually the weed just doesn't seem to work as well without a break but actually it's because its negative side effects are getting worse as I continue to abuse it. So I'm getting more paranoid and more and more anxiety which cut through the comfortable haze of the high I get and it's getting heavier to endure. Every time I talk with someone I'm not sure if they're judging me, condemning me with every word that comes out of their mouths or not. I'm constantly on the lookout for invalidating statements that prove to me the speaker doesn't care or believe I suffer. It makes me more stressed and likely to yell and get upset. Also feeling scared of being watched by people on the street, like they can see my misery and problems. I really have to stop soon before I go off the deep end. No wonder my ex would take 2 week breaks from all drugs every once in a while and then go right back to stealing beer and smoking up and then break again. And you know, that's probably why I would feel better after being in a hospital for a week or 2 even though I would have awful episodes in the ER. Couldn't get drugs there, except for the time I got my friend who recently passed away to smuggle in a joint that I smoked in a bathroom in the psych ward and nearly got caught. I could never figure it out until now. I can't believe how much worse I made my situation by self-medicating. All that time I thought my cycling through being ok to being in the ER was only due to my BPD but my addiction was interfering and making things worse than they had to be.

grandparents

My grandma (from my dad's side) called me recently. She's so sweet and sounds lonely and always says so sadly how much she and grandpa miss me and my family and how she wishes she could come visit but she's too frail. We'll come visit in the summer. And I always say "miss you too" but to be honest, I don't think I do. Which then makes me feel guilty. It looks like I'm one of two ways, either I'm so self-centred that I don't even care about those not immediately having to do with me which is awful or I'm so sensitive to emotional pain that I'd rather cut people out of my mind if I can't see them regularly because I miss them too much. I think this might be an example of my black-or-white thinking, an annoying symptom of BPD. But that's really how I look like to me. Anyhow, all of this adds up to feeling woozy and weird every time extended family call me and say they miss me. I feel bad for not returning the feeling and yet I know there's fear behind the tunnel vision I enforce on myself. Makes me feel like I want to be left alone but of course I don't like being lonely...

self-centred, for now

I find self-centred people irritating. Unfortunately that is how I am right now myself. I used to beat myself up for this, feeling like an immature teen or something and hating myself even more. But I've realized that it's actually appropriate for me to focus on myself now. I've spent 22 years ignoring, repressing and denying myself in an effort to survive everyday life so now I've got to focus on taking care of myself properly if I'm going to get any better from my disorder and addiction. Must give self more slack...