The Clusterf*ck I Call Life

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Time for an update.  It’s been a long time, but this last month has done me in.  Where to start….

My boyfriend broke up with me on  July 2nd because we just aren’t happy right now.  This genuinely sucks as I can’t handle abandonment very well as a Borderline, so I’ve naturally been flipping out.  But only on the inside because flipping out on the outside is unacceptable to me.  Inside I am screaming and crying like a 3-year-old  who lost her doll, but on the outside, it is covered up with sarcasm and  jokes and laughter.  Shit sucks.

My friend passed away.  Bad Andy was one of my last from the bar, and I loved him dearly.  he was riding his motorcycle when an old woman ran a red light and  hit him  going about 65mph.  He lost blood flow and oxygen in his brain, had fluid around his heart, lost a leg, crushed his other, and his  stomach was ripped open, yet he  didn’t die right away.  He was on life support  for  a few days when his brain stem began deteriorating and finally, he was declared brain dead.  His family donated  his organs and his funeral will be next Saturday.  His wake will be at the bar, and yes, I am going.  I will also be scheduling his tattoo to go  underneath Ted and Larry’s as well because he was one of the ones who earned a spot on my shoulder.  He  was one of my loves.

 

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Andy watching Ted play guitar at the bar one Saturday morning.  This has become  my favorite picture in the world.  I miss them both so much.  Those two men  loved me unconditionally and never turned away from me.  They were always there for me no matter what, and now they are gone.   I don’t have anyone else like that left.

I’m also positive I have skin cancer on my shoulder.  This weird thing popped up about a month ago and started off very small but has tripled in size in such a short amount of time.  It won’t pop, won’t pull off and hurts like hell.  It’s disgusting.  I wasn’t worried about it because I have an appointment with my dermatologist on the 27th, but they will just look at it and maybe biopsy it, right?  And reschedule a time to remove it.  No big deal.   But then, two days ago, I had to renew my food stamps and when I  did, the asshole  who did it denied my Medicaid because I made three dollars too much, so now my insurance is gone at the end of the month.  I am just now getting to where I feel human!

I am just now getting to where I feel human!  My mental state is beginning to level out, my fibromyalgia is tolerable, and after two years of suffering and hurting, they wait  until I feel better and then take it away from me.  Over less money than a gallon of milk costs.  I will appeal it as soon as my denial letter comes, and I hope and pray my appeal works.  I am so sick, I need my Medicaid.  I am so poor too that I  desperately need it.  I keep thinking this can’t all be happening all at once again.  It feels like January of 2015 (which you can read of about in my other blog Living with Pain but Living)  or  July and  August of 2015 (which  you can find at the very beginning of this blog.  You’ll want to start there and read till now.)  Will it ever get better or will I go through this kind of ‘when it rains it pours’ bullshit forever?  How am I supposed to heal mentally when this keeps happening?  Why can’t it just be on thing  at a time?  Why does fucking everything have to fall apart?

I told my sister (yes, she’s been back) that I see my life not as chapters in a book, but as a comfortable blanket.  I get attached to this blanket but after a while, the edges begin to fray.  As the edges begin to fray, instead of repairing it, I just start pulling at it and fucking with it because I’m Borderline, and that is what I do.  I pick at scabs.  After a while, those edges start to come undone and they unravel, and soon I’m left with nothing  but a bunch of string.  I don’t know how to sew, so I have to find a new blanket.  But I don’t like new blankets because they are uncomfortable and smell funny, but eventually, I get used to it and the cycle begins again.  This is the point in the cycle where I find a new blanket because I didn’t  find one when everything happened last year.  I stubbornly  held on to my string, hoping things would fall back into place, but they aren’t going to.  I’m losing the  few who stuck by me, so it is all coming full circle.  It’s time to let go of the string and take the new blanket already.  It’s over.  That part of my life is over and the person I was is no longer here.  She died last year and she will never be back because those people  poisoned her with their abuse.  It’s really sad because I was such a sweet, giving, loving person too.  now I’m none of those things because those things are not safe.

That part of my life is over and the person I was is no longer here.  She died last year and she will never be back because those people poisoned her with their abuse.  It’s really sad because I was such a sweet, giving, loving person too.  Now, I’m none of those things because those things are no longer safe.  I feel like the wake will be interesting at best.  I haven’t seen these people in exactly one year.  Or even talked to them.  We shall see how they receive me.  I know it seems fucked up to say this considering it’s Andy’s wake, but these people will only use it as an excuse to get drunk and act like a bunch of stupid assholes.  I don’t drink at all, so I’ll get to observe said people get drunk and act like stupid assholes, and they will talk shit about me, and uh oh!  Tara isn’t afraid of them anymore.  It could go well or it could go the opposite.  We will just have to wait and see.  I’ll update next weekend.

Wish me luck on the Medicaid thing, I really need good vibes.  It’s so important that I get it back!

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Bad Andy is next.  I’m still debating on what symbol to give him.  Ted loved playing guitar and singing so I gave him music notes, Larry’s nickname was Rocketman and his fave colors were red and orange, so he got a red and orange rocket, Bad Andy liked to put his beard over his face and hold it in place with sunglasses, so I may see if my artist can do a caricature of that somehow.  Sometimes I’d even get him to wear my rainbow gloves.  LOL  I miss my boys. 😦

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Therapy Logs part 3

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Well, I failed miserably at the show your feelings crap.  I see my therapist at 9am today, and there was not one day I was able to constructively show my feelings without covering them up with anger or fake happiness.  I am a bit disappointed in myself, but I feel that this is to be expected, honestly.  I mean, I have covered my feelings with defense mechanisms as far back as I can remember, so pinpointing the true emotions that lie underneath the anger  and fake happiness is next to impossible for me.  For now.  I think I eventually will  develop this ability, but right now, that is far too challenging to me.

Seeing my sister brought back some old hatreds I thought I was mostly over.  Bar hatreds.  Of course, we talked about it because that is what ripped our relationship to shreds to begin with, but where I thought I was over it, I became angrier and angrier.  Especially anything regarding Cindy.  I seem to be cool with anything else,  just not  her.  I really do hope karma comes back on her tenfold.  That wouldn’t even be enough for what she put us through for her stupid ass ‘revenge.’  Okay,  I’m getting pissed again, and it’s only 4:30am, so I’ll stop here.  I do not want to start my day with thoughts of that ugly (inside and out) crackwhore.

Well, yesterday was a stepping stone

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I have not seen my sister, soul mate, bff, whatever you want to call her in almost a year.  I’ve written about her numerous times, she seems to be one of the only things aside from Ted (who died a year and a half ago) that I can actually shed tears over.  She came over yesterday.  We talked for like 5 hours I think, and we finally caught up on everything.  It was how it was supposed to be; no subject was forbidden, we didn’t have to censor our comments or walk on eggshells, it was total comfort.  I was worried at first.  She and I have never fought.  In the 12 years we have been together, we’ve never fought, and to not speak to each other for the better part of a year is just insanity.  Especially over a lying cuntbag like Cindy.  I hate her so much, but my sister is back, we are together, and Cindy didn’t win shit in the long run, so fuck her.  And that is how I feel on that subject.  I now have to get ready for the eye doctor. 🙂

Compulsions, BPD, and Depression

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When I feel depressed, fat, sad, ugly, rejected, abandoned, controlled, angry, or unloved I shop.  And not just oh I want a new outfit.  No. I will go thousands of dollars in  debt with random crap within a matter of hours.  I can’t stop it, I can’t help it, and it sounds so stupid to say it, but I am a shopping addict.  My boyfriend says to just not do it, but he doesn’t seem to understand that a compulsion isn’t just a thing you can simply not do.

In the DSM-V, Borderline Personality Disorder has a symptom labeled as: “Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging” which includes things such as drugs, reckless driving (I do that often), gambling, excessive spending (hello), and binge eating to name just a few.  In order to be diagnosed with BPD, a person must show 5 out of 9 symptoms.  I have 9 out of 9, so where the hell does that leave me?  I do not try to kill myself, but I do threaten it and idealize it, and I apparently ‘mutilate’ my body with tattoos.  I think that’s crazy, but it meets the stupid criteria for that specific symptom.

My mind is so scattered today.  I decided to just write until my thoughts were out even if they do not go in any logical order.  I don’t really care.  I’ve shut down again. I felt great for a couple of weeks; things were going well, I was, dare I say, happy and content, and I honestly started thinking that therapy must really be working because wow!  Then Wednesday came.

I work in a very high-stress environment; unloading trucks at 6am, lifting, pulling, sweating, pushing, and it is very fast-paced, we are timed, and sometimes we just argue.  I wasn’t feeling well for some reason that day, and the managers will not let me have water back there even though I am on Topamax which causes excessive thirst.  So I was dehydrating, my head was beginning to hurt, I was sweating profusely, and I was getting dizzy and nauseated.  I was trying to get a heavy hummer through a tiny spot, and I was super struggling and one of the guys just sat back with his fuckin arms crossed and watched me.  So that ended up getting very ugly.

Then, later on at work, I had two metal bowls stuck together, so I ran to the back to have one of the guys  pull on the other end so we could try to get them apart when this other lady who works back there (who is slow as shit, might I add, and old and bitchy anyway) came back and told ME to get to work in front of everyone!  Oh hell no!  So I smarted off to her, threw the damn bowls across the backroom and stomped out of there pissed.  She left before I did  and was on the floor mimicking me to the  boss, so I hit her with the swinging door, told my boss that lady was completely out of line, and finished unloading my stuff well before she did and I went out about 5 minutes after she did.

Then, I finally got home and ranted to my boyfriend who was kind of  standoffish to me.  He went to work and then decided to text me to inform me that he is mad at me.  The week before last he told me if I needed anything to ask, so I did, and now he is stressed out and paying for too much, according to him.  So, I’ll be out of cigarettes by tomorrow, but I’ll just assault people before I ask him for anything.

That same day, my good friend of 10 years who has always kept me on a pedestal decided that after three texts, 2 of which were pictures, I was “flooding his phone” and was being “overwhelming.”  Stab me in the chest.  Thank you.

I went to bed at 6 that night.  By Thursday, I was not cool.  I woke up pissed, remained pissed, treated mostly everyone like I was pissed at them, did not text my friend once, barely spoke to boyfriend, and spent my last dollars on cat food, litter, and toothpaste.  I went to bed at 7 that night.

Now it is Friday the 13th, a full moon.  I am not superstitious, but I am aware of the impact the full moon has on people.  By this day, I was flat out done.  I was finished being happy and carefree because obviously when I am feeling that way, everyone in the fucking Universe has to drag me down with their bullshit, not caring  that I have to live with BPD bullshit daily and it’s really damn nice to have a break!  No one gives a shit about how I feel.  I have the most selfish people around me, I swear.  Four friends.  Four friends who ask how I am doing or what is wrong and mean it.  Out of all the damn people I know those are the only  ones who give a shit about me. I love them.

So that was my happy/carefree moment.  So short-lived, and now I am shut down because I can’t deal with it anymore.  I am so tired of having to shut down.

Body Dysmorphic Disorder

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People see me and think I’m so gorgeous.  I can’t see it.  I see gross, okay? This is me.I took this yesterday.

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Yes, it is a fantastic picture, but let me tell you why.  That hair?  It’s a wig.  That face?  Makeup and photoshop.  My eyes?  Made bigger by the app on my phone.  This is what I look like with just makeup and real hair:

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This one shows my wrinkles, my fatness, my blotchy skin, my freckles that have marred my whole body, my squinty eyes, my super thin and short hair, my crooked ass smile, my god awful overbite, my arm fat, and it is just sickening to look at.  Yet, when I sent it to my mom, she said, “You look so great!”  I don’t see it. More than anything I want to see what other people see, but I can’t.  I doctor all of my  pictures, except for what I send to my parents.  I see everything wrong with me and nothing right. When I was small, I would always dream of the day a plastic surgeon could break all the bones in my face and reconstruct them into my view of beauty.  I also wanted to cover my body head to toe in tattoos that were tan to cover my ugly freckles, white skin, and get a boob job, tummy tuck, and a personal trainer so I’d look perfect.  I’m now 36 and so far from perfect that if I didn’t need to pile on  hair and makeup every day, I’d break every freaking mirror in my house.  This disorder sucks, and the worst thing is, you don’t even know you have it until someone diagnoses you with it.  So you go your entire life feeling uglier than everyone before someone says, “Your perception is super fucked up!”  Hopefully it’ll get better.  36 years of a fucked up perception is going to be really difficult to kill though.

Therapy Logs Part 2

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Showing my feelings:  Why is this  so hard!?

 

 

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This whole showing my emotions crap isn’t going as well as I’d hoped it would.  I’m disappointed in myself because I feel as though I am emotionally stunted in some way.  I feel anger, happiness, and hopelessness.  There is no in between, and there are no other emotions.  I forced myself to cry yesterday; I’m feeling so empty and like everything is falling apart so quickly.  I cried 2 or 3 tears; that was all I could squeeze out, and they took a ton of effort, which was crazy.  I feel as though I need to cry until my eyeballs float away on my river of tears, but I can’t.  To keep myself from feeling even more like a failure, I just quit trying and worked out instead.

 I want to take Jiu-jitsu so I can get all of my violence out, maybe quit smoking, and possibly even stop being so damn pissed off all the time, but the person I need to support me was a total dick about it, and I’ll probably do it anyway come August because it’s something that is good for me physically and mentally.  There is more to this, but I can’t make it public.  Just trust me; I’m angry.

Yesterday, I tried to show what I felt on the inside on my outside, but I was angry so I was just a bitch.  At work, I was so mean to this one guy that the biggest bitch in the continental United States told me I was being a bitch, so I apologized because I must have been truly horrid to him for her to say something.  Then as I was angry with someone at home, as I picked him up, I wasn’t nice which made everything worse.  But when I pretended to be okay, things calmed down. 

 I don’t think showing true emotions is a good thing.  I am Borderline; my emotions are not normal-people-intensity emotions, rather, they are times 1,000.  Normies don’t know how to deal with them, so it’s best I keep them inside.  I worry I can never get better because I can’t let these things out in fear of losing everyone.

 At home no one has even bothered to read one book or article about BPD or BDD (Body Dysmorphic Disorder.)  They don’t understand it because they don’t care to, so they are always pissed at me.  My eldest son (16) is the most understanding because he listens to me and asks questions.  He wants to understand, but no one else here does.  Only my mom, and two of my ex-boyfriends’ mothers have read up on it.  My friends don’t care, my significant other doesn’t care, and my other two kids don’t care, nor does my dad brother or any other constant in my life.

 So how the hell do I show my intense emotions to these people who don’t care to know about my disorder?  How do I let out my feelings without seeming cold, distant, or overly dramatic?  How do I do this without losing everyone, and before you say, “If they were worth keeping, they’d understand you,” understand that they are all I have.  I don’t want to find new people. 

 When these drop like flies and they eventually will, I will be alone because that is just what I do.  The ones I have left right now are the ones that stuck with me in the aftermath of the bar debacle.  There are only three new friends and they’re from work.   We don’t hang out, we don’t go to each other’s houses, we don’t do shit but work together because I am safer alone. 

 This is by far the most difficult assignment my therapist has ever given me. 

 

Topamax

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I was seriously worried about this drug.  The side effects are like three miles long, but I refused to read them because I tend to get all kinds of weird shit when I read crap like that.  My brain hates me, y’all.  The first week I was on it, I couldn’t function very well right after taking it.  I called it my Alice in Wonderland pill because it made me feel so freaking strange!  Objects seemed to be further away than they really were, I couldn’t concentrate on anything for even a short amount of time, and forget school work.  That so wasn’t happening!  I would feel like a giant woman when I stood up, and I couldn’t even have a sensical conversation with anyone, but I kept taking it.  I would wait until I was home for the day before I took it.

The first week, my migraines were at a whole new level of ridiculous.  I dealt with a NINE DAY migraine.  Nine days!  What the shit fuck?  This medicine is supposed to get rid of that!  But the pill had my heart at weight loss, so I stuck with it.  I have been on enough medication to know that with a lot of them, the first week or month can really suck before the crap part tapers off.  I needed this pill to work.  Not just for weight loss, but for the mood boosting and the headache killing.

I’ve had the same headache with different intensities since 2003 when I got pregnant with my youngest child.  I’ve had MRI’s, other head and brain scans, been prescribed migraine medications, been addicted to codeine, tried a chiropractor, yoga, sitting in the sink with my feet in water and a towel over my head while I let the steam blow up in my face (saw it online, I don’t know), and any other crackpot heeadache remedy I could get my hands on but nothing ever worked.  I finally just got used to the pain, accepted the fact that the headache would never go away and just dealt with it as best I could.

But Topamax is supposed to make it stop. To be headache free?  How does that even feel?  It’s been 13 years, and I can’t even remember anymore.  So I stuck with it.  After about the 9th or 10th day, the Alice effects began to wear off and I was able to take it without feeling  like I was 20 feet tall, the nausea subsided, and miracle of miracles, was my headache fading a bit?  By day 13, my headache was just a small  annoyance.  This was the best my head had felt in years.  Is it really working?  Is something actually going to freaking fix me?  Let me tell you.  I have been 3 days with only one small breakthrough headache, y’all.  My new specialist will up my dose some when I see him the 23rd, but this medicine is working.  It slowly faded the pain until it’s mostly gone.  I don’t think it will ever completely go away, but it really isn’t all that noticeable, like it normally is.

My new specialist, Dr. Ahmad in Lubbock, Texas is ah-mazing!  I’ve had the shittiest health care in the town I live in for the last 20 years of my life, and finally, because my internal doctor here in Amarillo sucks, he sent me to this guy, and he was wonderful.  If I could cry, I would have because I needed him 2 years ago on August 1 when I woke up sick and never got better.  I’d be in a way better place health-wise right now.  But it’s okay.  I have him now, he will help me, and I will get to feeling better very soon.

There are tons of awful reviews on the internet about Topamax, but if you suffer as I have, don’t freak out or not take it.  It either works or it doesn’t, is what my  therapist said.  She said the side effects are not as prominent as google makes them out to be.  Oh, and FYI, it makes Dr. Pepper taste really gross, but if you keep drinking it, it becomes tolerable.  That was a big deal to me and a big cause of the extended migraine.  I tried to switch to Coke, and I couldn’t drink as much, so I was adding a caffeine headache on top of a migraine.  No fun.  No fun at all.