Battling instability

So, back before I created this blog, back before I met kitten, back before florida happened... I was a mask. Or several, really. Marina didn't exist back then. What existed was a person who could not feel emotions because the trauma from being raped multiple times when she was ten made her cut them out of her. Total apathy. Laughter? False. Crying? Only physical pain, and incredibly horrible pain at that. Excitement? A facade. Sadness? What sadness? What fear?

The only thing I genuinely felt for at least three years of my life, was loneliness. Not your normal loneliness. It was like this all-encompassing hole of nothing swallowing me and making me see, every single day of my life, that I was completely, totally alone. That no one I knew understood me or would ever understand me because it was literally impossible for them to do so. So I made masks. I faked emotion. I was never happy, never sad, never angry, never upset, never scared.

Until I hit sixteen. See, I got a real bad case of walking pneumonia when I was fifteen, and was on a regimen of a narcotic cough suppressant to help keep me out of the hospital. Unfortunately it started bringing back memories of things, some good, some bad, that had happened to me as young as 3. I woke up from the dreams confused and befuddled, and convinced that they couldn't have happened to me.

Until I started asking my mom about them. And sure enough, every single dream I brought to her attention was something that was a memory. Of course, some things, like being raped, I didn't mention and didn't want to accept that had happened to me. Unfortunately all this culinated in an explosion. Very shortly before I hit sixteen years old, my masks broke, failed me, and I started feeling things again.

Can you imagine the agony emotions were to me after so long without them? Especially when, the moment I started experiencing emotions, I was experiencing severe bipolarity? I swung wildly back and forth between suicidal depression and dangerous mania. I felt anger so bad that I almost broke my sister's arm in a fit of rage. I was completely unequipped to deal with even normal emotions at this point of my life, and instead of even getting the opportunity to get used to it I was thrust into completely unpredictable instability.

Of course, eventually I learned to deal. Yeah, "dealing" included cutting and other forms of self-injury, "dealing" included becoming a kleptomaniac and thrill-seeker. But at least I wasn't succumbing to the suicidal thoughts any more (I have actively attempted suicide at least three times in my life, and listlessly attempted to waste away more times than I can count), and at least I had an outlet for the extra energy my mania gave me rather than allowing my anger to take control of me and hurt people.

No, it wasn't right, but it was better than what could have happened. It was better than what happened in florida, where I was abused, molested at knifepoint, raped, homeless on multiple occasions, had to steal just to survive. Just to eat. I've gone three weeks eating only one very small meal each week. I've never had to sleep on the street but I couchsurfed on the couches of total strangers for a month and a half. I let my boyfriend use me and his best friends abuse me, and repeatedly left somewhat stable situations in order to be with him, only to be kicked out weeks later.

I've been completely disconnected from any means of possible help and only by the grace of the divine managed to escape that hellhole with my life intact.

And that hole never went away. No matter how many friends I had, no matter who I loved, who I got into relationships with. Until suddenly it was gone one day and I realised that somehow it was kitten, the one person I actively pushed away and tried to avoid getting into a relationship with, that filled it.

The problem is, I'm not used to it being filled up. All those bad habits of pushing people away when I get into unpleasant moods, for their sake and mine both, they still exist.

What do you do when habit tells you to push someone away even though you know that it wont fix the problem? What do you do when even though you want to tell someone to stay, you order them to leave, and they have no choice but to obey you because you don't give them any other choice?

More importantly, how do you break these habits and form healthier ones?

I feel very lost and torn right now. I don't know what to do. I've been through so much shit in my life, more in my 27 years than most people experience in 90, and all my friends come to me for advice and I can help them just fine. I always have the right answers.. so why can't I find the right answers for myself?

I don't know what to do, and that's a really hard thing for me to admit.

Counselling

So at my last pdoc appointment she suggested that I might benefit from therapy, particularly in regards to my severe social anxiety. I saw my counsellor later that week and made an appointment for the twenty seventh of this month.. Not realising that it's the day after my birthday until just now.

Oh well. Happy birthday to me! Yay... I get to have mental health appointments as a present to myself...

-sighs- I've been gaining weight and I'm going to have to ask my pdoc about whether SafetyNet covers regular medical appointments or not. If it does I need to go get my thyroid hormones tested because there's a chance my hypothyroid disorder has come back.

I could also just be gaining weight from never fucking leaving my room but I need to get the more dangerous option checked as well.

I've been cycling between mania and depression pretty regularly, spending a week or so manic then a week or so depressed, with a few mixed states in between, but the medicine is just an amazing help. I hardly notice it outside of certain things, especially since my dose was doubled. So far the set we have me on is a good balance. One anti-psychotic/mood stabiliser, one anti-anxiety/mood stabiliser (actially it's technically an anti-epileptic medicine but whatever), and one PRN (as-needed) nerve pill for panic attacks and severe tic attacks.

It's nice to be able to just pop a pill or two when I start freaking out and suddenly twenty minutes later be not freaking out and not ticcing badly any more.

I like my counsellor too. He's easy to talk to and we already have a goal set for therapy, which is to reduce my social anxiety to the point where I don't need to pop a pill just to go visit my family or get to my appointments. My pdoc knows about me going to be trying to get on SSI and all that's needed from me is to have a day where I'm up on time and with my mom so I can try calling the SSI place and getting the information I need.

So yeah. Just an update on things... OH! My room is So. Fucking. Close. to being done.

All that needs done is the ceiling fan, the shelves in the bathroom, the trim underneath the bathroom heater, outlet covers, and then cleanup. If I were working on it I could get it done in a day.

Ofc I'm NOT working on it, Wayne is, and he's a busy man so I'll probably have to wait a week or more, which is fucking frustrating as hell, but... Just. So close. My room looks amazing and I'll post pics when it's done.

Maxie kitten and I have been going through some struggles but it isn't more than we can handle, life's just kicking our asses.

I guess that's it for now!!!