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Progress not Perfection

I have two blogs, I don’t even know which one this should go to.  I guess whichever one you are reading is where it ended up!  Oh where to start…I guess let’s back up a bit.  For those not regular followers, I am working on the debut of my one woman show concert tour.  I am very excited and it looks like we are getting lots of media coverage.  this information will come in handy later in this blog.

For those following the quest for total health, my Borderline Personality Disorder, mixed with a few bad choices and a full on self harm attack came on today.  It lasted ten minutes.  Ten minutes of pure torture and agony.  The type of agony that scratches the soul from the inside out.  The type of agony that put me in the hospital all those years ago.  This agony used to last for long periods.  This one lasted ten minutes.

To make a quite irrelevant story short:  I had felt a connection and kin with a younger woman, a kid really, who has similar mental health issues.  The problem is she is dating someone who I am no longer friends with , and the friendship ended quite badly last December, partly due to the influence of this woman, partly due to the fact that the friendship was on it’s last legs anyway.  Regardless, for some reason I thought her and I could be friends outside the whole “her boyfriend used to be my friend and now it causes me intense pain” type of triggering pain.  In hindsight, this could be the stupidest thing I have ever thought.  Oh what the mind will do to trick me! 🙂  Today absolute nope, we will not be friends and then poof she turned mean just like in December. Not mean like she’s a bitch mean, but mostly just “so yeh, we can’t be friends” and poof, blocked and done.

To anyone else this is pointless and stupid interactions.  To me, for that ten minutes, it was the worst torture I have felt in years.  For some reason, in that small amount of time, I gave this woman, nay, this kid the power to make me feel like nothing, like I should die, and realistically, that is not her intent.  Point of this story is, I felt a connection, she clearly doesn’t want me in her life,and poof that is end of story.

What my mind did was convince me that she thinks I am a whore, and her boyfriend must think i’m a worthless whore, and hey, everyone thinks I am a worthless whore and I should die.  This is literally the short leap my brain took.  The pain was enormous.  I wanted to lash out at her but really she did nothing wrong.  She’s just a young person with her own mental health issues in a new relationship while also trying to work on herself.  duh, maybe she doesn’t want the ex friend of her now boyfriend around.  Again, the mind perhaps played a bit of a trick on me.

Now in years past, this would have prompted a food, drinking or gambling binge.  This might put me over the edge and actually bruise myself.  In truth today for that ten minutes, I reached out to my husband and he and I skyped (I am out of town),  He let me cry and calmed me down by saying “um, hon, I can’t understand you when you are sobbing.  um breathe”.  He then reminded me that these two little fuckers (and he has nothing against either of them but to him they represent annoyances in his life because I get fixated), but he says these little fuckers don’t matter to me at all.  They will live there life, I will live mine and who really give a fuck what they think of me”.  Um, I guess I do.  He calmed me quite nicely, though my mind was still in self hatred mode.  I mean, if these two people in their twenties hated me (which by the way neither of them have ever stated they have) then surely EVERYONE must hate me.  sigh

I spent five minutes talking to a gal pal of a couple friend, and she just had the right words.  It is okay to be sad, sometimes friendships end and it may not be forever but for now it is done because that’s just how it is.  She also reminded me to focus on what matters, and that’s my family.  she also said “haters will hate” which made me smile, just because she is french and I tried to envision her saying that in her accent.  And then the entire matter was done.  I mean done.  I was smiling, dancing to some music on Songza, and played a game of candy crush.

In ten minutes, I went from wanting to end the pain, not thinking of anyone else but my pain in that moment, to finding a way out, reaching out to the one that truly matters, and bringing myself back to where I needed to be.

The irony of this situation is that I had to answer questions about mental health for an interview via email for my one woman show.  In it I had an opportunity to really talk about mental health, and how even as I am getting ready to debut a show about my disorder, my disorder and choices therein were kicking my ass.  And THIS is the dialogue I want my show to create; no not about me and petty drama, but the fact that me, a happily married woman to three wonderful kids in a job her loves and tits that many would die for, a person who does good in this world and is a good person, that even now at this point in my life, I can feel too much pressure over really small things and buckle.  there are others out there, and I was once one of them, who will not have a way out of there moments of agony.  There are people who will not have a husband to call and make it better.  If even I, in all the wonderful things I have in my life, thinks in that ten minutes of agony that I should end my life, so too do other people with mental health issues.  THIS is the crux of the show, of the dialogue, that we need to end the stigma, and work as a society to help those with mental illness.

As for me and the petty drama?  The pain will come, it just does.  My friends know if I start talking about this issue, they tell me not to.  They do not indulge this, and not because they don’t love me but because they do, and they know that talking about it will only make it worse for me, and that to truly move on, I do need to let it go eventually.  I am a strong woman and a survivor, and as I practice my words in my one woman show, while I write motivational speeches about following our dreams, it is like i need to continually reteach myself these things, over and over again until it sticks.

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