DBT Skills Group

Why is my brain trying to sabotage me?

Why am I struggling so freaking much in this DBT Skills Group? I talked my doc into a referral spot in the class a few months ago and ever since I’ve been making an excuse not to go ever since. Is it me, my stage fright, my anxiety, the class, take facilitators, the other group, the work,… I don’t know, but my brain shuts off as soon as I get there and I just can’t concentrate nor function.

It’s like my brain literally goes limp whenever I open the binder of worksheets and homework pages. Instantly like my brain turns to scramble eggs. 🍳 Everything I read gets hard to comprehend as if I’m in the 2nd grade.

Why is my brain trying to sabotage me??

SUPERCILIOUS

maxresdefault

*SUPERCILIOUS*

the hapless lives of
others
may be substantially
different than yours
in every possible
way
imaginable

to you
and if you can’t
imagine it,
nor fathom it
don’t be
disdainful
about it

© she
May 16, 2016
Artist Ben Goossens

HORROR STORY


HORROR STORY

I’ll tell you my horror sorry
The story of my life
As a test that you’ll disappear
And usually I’m right
I won’t let you get too close
Because closeness leads to pain
I can’t handle false friendships
When I’ll only get hurt again

Thus this blog is my horror story

© she
November 9, 2016
Artwork by Brook Shaden

CHOSEN ONE

Someone’s looking 

for a person like me (an empath)

Someone influenced 

by your wishes like me

Someone showing 

too much empathy

In a world filled 

with disharmony

We are right there 

to pick up the pieces

This is why we attract 

the wrong people 

The  narcissist

© she

WHAT I DONT NEED

WHAT I DON’T NEED

It’s hard for me to tell you what
I need from a relationship, but
I can now definitely tell you what
I DON’T NEED (based on my latest experiences)

number one
I don’t need someone
who threatens to hit me

number two
I don’t need someone
who calls me names

number three
I don’t need someone
who only thinks about
themselves

number four
I don’t need someone
who doesn’t have a plan
for thiers our future

number five
I don’t need someone
who can’t provide for us

number six
I don’t need someone
who doesn’t have any
ambition or goals in life

number seven
I don’t need someone
who doesn’t think before
they act or think before 
they speak

number eight
I don’t need someone
who doesn’t care about
my needs and wants

number nine
I don’t someone whose
not open minded or thinks
they know everything

number ten
I don’t need someone
who’s going to take my
trust, love and loyalty and
crush it into dust

The Visit

I came down to Texas to visit a month ago. My ticket was bought by my husband, (were not divorced yet). It was an emergency to try and see if we could both convince our son to go to rehab for a meth addiction. An addiction which began when Rob and my son first moved back to East Texas almost two years ago.

I’d already been told by Rob’s cousin that Van, (a small town 20 min down the road from where he and my son were moving back to) was one big meth house so to speak, which was the reason why she moved her kids out of that town. I could have told Rob this if he had only listened to me. He instead being his narcissistic ass, decided to take on the role of both parents chose to not didnt care no matter I said or warned him about. I hadn’t mattered anymore. Instead I got the full fledged invisible, silent treatment and dismissal treatment.

This is also when I’d had 16 years enough of it, packed up my shit and left at the end of 2015. December 31, 2015 to be exact.

Which brings us to the present. The son that I love to death, the son who had began treating me disrespectfully like shit who also chose to move back with his father and who also chose not to see me off as I packed my small U-Haul up and drove by myself up to Iowa, is now a 10 grade high school drop out is now strongly addicted to Meth.

My therapist tells me that this is not my fault that it turned out like this, but it sure feels like it.

My therapist is a blessing in disguise

I’ve been going to my current therapist every week since I let my husband and moved to another state almost two years go.

I’ve made alot of progress if I must say so myself.

I’ve gone from blogging about how miserable my life was to blogging about helpful information about various things regarding narcissism, abuse and etc. I’m never going to stop talking about that because it’ll always be an important factor in my life.

I’m still in the process of healing. Healing which may take years, but I’m in no hurry as long as I don’t have any distractions or setbacks.

My BPD

Personally I don’t think it’s all in my head. What it is, is their word against mine. Sort of like gas lighting. That’s why I don’t want any friends.

They use you to keep their secrets or to share their excitement about something while I’m just supposed

(wait… I’m not supposed to do anything)

to sit there, shut up, and be this supportive ear, whether it’s good or bad news. I’m made to feel…

(wait,… their not making me do anything)

I’m left feeling used and as if the favor ever needed to be returned, I’d receive less the attention that I gave them.

As a matter of fact. I know this to be TRUE, and I am not imagining this. It’s currently happening to me right now by two different individual people.

Then whenever I finally get fed up listening how you feel used because all you do is listen, listen, listen to them but you’re rarely listen to, I’m consider crazy when I finally get up the nerve to tell them that I don’t appreciate it.

Triggering

I read an entry from a fellow writers blog today and it was very triggering me. It’s almost as if we’re living the life. I feel for her, just like I felt for myself. TRAPPED in a loveless marriage. Our fears and obligations are what keeps us stuck.

HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW if you don’t communicate with me.

This highschool friend of minethat I had to move in with because of the damage to my apartment due to the Derecho storm, has not made it easy for me to know what’s what… Either she doesn’t know how to communicate or she just doesn’t want to. I believe that behavior speaks louder than words and her behavior is showing me that she wants to switch me out for someone better. I guess since I’ve stayed past the deadline of when she normally has people come stay acting bothered and I don’t even go upstairs to talk to her anymore. Me and my dog stay in the furnace the basement. Exactly like my life when I lived with my ex-husband. I was lonely and alone with no one to talk to. He didn’t know how to communicate period. Which is why my 20 years of being married to him were so miserable.

With Tonja (I’ll call her Tonja) I can completly understand that when you bring another person into your home there has to be some re-adjusting of a few things. But most importantly making them aware of everything they NEED to know. Who to to call if I can’t get ahold of her, if I can’t get in, where the fire extinguisher is stored, etc. Anything like this needs to be known. I can’t sit here guessing!!!

If she doesn’t tell my shit how am I supposed to fucking know!?! 😠 i.e., One evening before I’d left her house she was lying on the couch all relaxef. My phone was dead so I’d left it there to charge. I also left my key behind, assuming she was in for the night. Before I walked out the door I told her aka COMMUNCATED to her that I was going to the grocery store, which because I didn’t have a vehicle, I would have to walk. I told here where I was going. This is when she could have told me her plans as well. It’s on couteous.

Well, when I got back she was gone. 😳 The lights were on, so I knocked. I thought maybe Tonja was in the shower and she couldn’t hear me. So I waited. Then knocked again. By now I thimking “Oh shit, it’s getting kinda cold, it’s getting darker out, people are driving by and starting stare. So I got up and went opened the fence to the back yard. This whole time cursing her out.

Yeh, I’ll take responsibility for stupidly leaving my key and phone behind, but instill feel like she could have at least told me her plans. Shit I tell her mine. Why? Because that’s what “friends” do. Or so I thought. Now I’m starting to think that she has no fucking respect for me at all. Maybe I overshared to much and she’s judging me now.

Of course I should have known the patio door would be locked, but at least I had someplace to shit and put my groceries down. I sat there for almost 1.5 hours freezing my ass off. Then I thought she’s lived here over 10 years, surly she must have a neighbor or two who’ve she’s shared her phone number with just in case anything should happen to her home.

So I got up and went directly next door. Noone was home. Then I tried the neighbors directly across the street from her. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask. They were home and thankfully they DID have her number and dialed her up for me. She happens to be minutes away

As soon as we got in I told her how id left my phone and key and had been waiting for over an hour. You know what she fucking said to me? “Don’t you know the key to my garage?” FUCK NO, you never told me, let alone did I even know you had one. Then I tell her how after a while I finally tried her neighbours. You know what she fucking said, “Well duh, you should have went there first, dumbass” HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW ABOUT THE GARAGE KEY OR THAT YOUR NEIGHBORS HAD YOUR NUMBER. SHE DOESNT TELL ME SHIT. OMG, how I wanted to tear her ass up! But I can’t, she’ll kick me out. I have literally no place else to go. Yet I’m so tired of walking on eggshells around here.

Overnight thinking about how she called me a dumbass, bothered me so much that I decided that the next morning I would tell her that I didn’t appreciate her calling me a dumbass. I didn’t care if she was kidding or not, it unacceptable to call me that and that it was already bad enough that I beat myself up verbally everyday as it was. She apologized, but then had the nerve to ask me why I beat myself up everyday? Like you care!?

She rarely talks to me. She could care less how I’m doing or feeling. And right now I’m feeling so depressed about not finding a place to live because everything is so expensive. And it doesn’t help the mental abuse that I feel as I’m living here. I’m treated as if I don’t exist, just like my husband treated me. I really thought she was different. She puts on a sweet heart fake facade on Facebook.

Why do people keep asking me this…

“Why do you care what people say or think?”

Why do people keep asking me that, as if I’m abnormal. As if there’s something wrong with me??

I argued with my therapist about this dumb as question this morning, as to why people keep asking me, “Why do you care what people say or think about you? morning. Sometimes I feel like she doesn’t validate my feelings, but then again I’m BPD and no matter what she tells me, I think she’s hanging up on me.

Anyway, my therapist challenges me to answer the question. “Hell, I don’t fuckn’ know why I care!” I exclaim back. This is also when I began to get angry because I really wanted to say, “I don’t know, you tell me!” in which she’d come back with some smart ass remark with a smirky smile on her face which makes me want to hit the END SESSION button on the teletherapy video session with her.

I know she means well, but like I’ve read in Psychology Today, BPD patients are the toughest mental disordered people to work with. Now I know why and I can’t stand myself.

I can’t be the only person on this planet who cares what people think about them. I can’t be the only person who has low self-esteem, extremely sensitive about what people may think about me. I’ll admit I go through many phases and especially when I’m triggered.

Like currently my roommate who’ve I’ve been “temporarily” staying with since August 25, (because of the Derecho Storm Damage to my apartment) ask me, I didn’t ask her, she asked me to come stay with her until my apartment was fixed. Yet this whole stay has been miserable for me.

She askes like she doesn’t even like me. The fucked up thing is, we went to highschool together, we were in Show Choir together, we’ve talked on Facebook messenger at times, I’m on her, Pinterest, Instagram, Twitter account, etc, and she acts like she has no interest in even having a conversation with me. I’m lonely here. She triggers my experience with my ex husband who emotionally abused me for 17 years.

I just don’t understand how you can live under the same roof with someone and they never conversate with you! I just don’t get it and I never will!! It’s like walking on eggshells living here. I can’t stand it I would go in and talk to her, but she’s always on her phone. Either it be Facebook (snapping pics of herself and getting a million likes or loves) Twitter, Instagram, Snap Chat or watching her recorded TV shows. I don’t want to go in there and bother her.

Maybe it is me. When I don’t get paid attention to I get ANGRY, I mean really angry. I’m not a physical type of angry
I just it and it becomes resentment. Just like I did with my ex husband. He paid more attention to everything else he loved (recorded TV shows reptiles and snakes, exotic fish with high maintenance fish tanks, garden, mowing …. He’d find anything that he could just to not be involved with me, not to speak to me, not to love me. Which is narcissistic neglect that I suffered for years and years.

Now wonder I’m so fucked up at the age of 48. But that’s irrelevant right now.

I guess by the end of the day, all I need is someone to talk to and she has no interest in doing so. 😥

First real post comes from after the Cain.

Yes, that right. I finally got the strength and courage to leave my abusive husband of 18 years, move across the state, become independent, get a cute lil apartment and guess what happens? A fucking Hurricane takes it all way 😥 Today as a Facebook post I wrote:

I woke up feeling severely depressed. I wanna go back to my own apartment. I wish I could live in it while they rebuild around me, but it’s inhabitable. I don’t want to keep packing up my stuff and moving it from here to there. I had a stablity. My own lil place to go home to. Now it’s gone.

My aunt Fran is helping me transport my stuff back and forth from here to there and then back again. We’re both exhausted. That’s why I detest asking for help. I detest having to need help. Yesterday aunt Fran, her husband and I toted what we could up and down my apartments narrow wet, and soggy carpeted stairs dragging out anything we could (and they’re not in the best shape or age to be doing that. It was very dangerous because the construction men were working on the roof nailing and pounding. Shingles were falling to the ground around us, and nails were everywhere. One of us could have stepped on a nail or a piece of glass.

Maybe I’m stubborn, but I just can’t leave behind 18 years of memories. Most of that stuff we toted were belongs I brought here to Iowa from Texas; my son’s baby albums, my old high school and college graduation diploma, and trust me much much more.

I looked around the parking lot thinking why isn’t anyone else ding this? Why aren’t they panicking to get their memories out? As a matter of fact I asked the office manager as we were finally loading up and you know what she said? “Theyre not worried about it because they have renters insurance.”
My response was ” How is renters insurance going to pay for the memories you brought with you? ” She just shrugged her shoulders. I’m pretty sure her home or apartment wasn’t affected as badly as all of ours, so of course she can shrug. 🙄 I didn’t finally leave my husband after 18 years, fill a UHaul truck up with every shred of myself from youth to adult plus my only babyboys memories as well (baby books, picture albums, football jersey, etc) just to sacrifice it to the Hurricane God. I couldn’t give a crap about the furniture. I just wanted those memories. Non of which included my unhappy marriage, but the only person I lived for anyway, my only son. ❤️ I can’t help I’m sentimental.

Aunt Fran and I grabbed what we could, and I’d hate to think about it what we left behind or I’ll tear again. I’m not sure what I what to do now. I hate burdening people and moving into their “space” when I had my own space almost two weeks ago. I’ve learned not to expect or count on anything from anyone because if you do, you’ll get let down.
Life sucks! I hate you life 😠 I think I’m going to call the Distaster trauma crisis line today. I just can’t do this. This is just too much. 😥

and it really too much. If I wanted to up and move it should have been my choice not a fucking hurricane. Now I’m like.. lost. Like, WTH!!? All my shots gone. I didn’t have much, but damn.