I felt a bit wobbly in my orbit yesterday, which ended up on a phone call to my therapist. He steadied me, but it was a horrifying way to start the day. I could physically feel something moving around in the base of my scull, and it was as if something else was looking through my eyes. Not a good sign.
My Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) is in remission right now, and I don't want it to come back. I don't feel stressed and yet I am developing symptoms of stress overload. I have felt a steady leach of my courage for the past week, in particular, and I had forgotten the warrior that I am.
My therapist's answer was to go to the library and check out any book on BPD written by someone with the disorder, and then check out a book designed to make me laugh until I pee in my pants. I got the first one, and it is always David Sedaris for something funny. Now it's time to work on eating lots of green vegetables and walking more.
I can't really do anything else to keep the disorder at bay, except to write about it, and I am doing that here with you.
Meanwhile, I put on my happy face so others will leave me alone to fight this battle. Today, I just don't know anything but that this feeling, like all feelings, will pass, and leave me panting on the beach, holding on for dear life. I will be surrounded by the shells the passing storm has thrown onto the sand to keep me company.
I do not want to alarm anyone with this post. My disorders come and go like tides and I do hang on. But for the first time, I want to document the passing storm, if it comes. A poet once told me that everything that needs to be written up to this point in time, has been written; and we discover more writings each day. Just write it and it will be found by someone, somewhere, where it will be the most beneficial.
Meanwhile, I have actually found something fun to do today, with others of my kind, but I wanted to spend time with you, here, alone, before it begins.