Fuck U-Haul.

So let's skip most of the backstory here. I ended up getting back together with R, it has been wonderful, and now she is living with me. I feel cliche with that, but she had to be out of her current place really soon, and I thought this could work. We'll see.

Holy cow. She has as many space/emotion issues as I do. Well, more really. I don't regret having her here, it was my idea although she was right there with me thinking about it, but it's hard not having control of everything in my house. She is an adult and makes her own decisions and has her own needs, and it's very hard for me not to get angry when she makes decisions I don't like. When we have issues about emotional stuff, she thinks it through by leaving for a while. I get hurt that she doesn't want to be with me, even though I often do the same thing. I love being alone sometimes. But now that she's here it's like my fucking borderline came right back. I don't want to start being manipulative. And right now she's on my couch crying. And it looks like she wants nothing to do with me. Deep down I really do like someone there when I cry, but only when it's a very trusted person which explains why I rarely cry in front of people. I am hurt but really the worst feeling is being out of control. I can't make her do anything. I'm just exiled to another part of the house because she wants to be alone. And yes, I know. She is perfectly entitled to alone time, especially in a small apartment. But I have such a fear of lack of control AND being left behind that things like this really get me. When she gets out of bed in the middle night to go "think things through" on the couch, I can't sleep after that. I stay up tossing and turning, wishing she would just stay in bed and talk to me.

Will it be like this every day? I can't handle that. We all have our moments but every single day of this will be so hard to live with. I need my home to be calm. And if this is going on, plus getting up in the middle of the night all the time, I will spend ALL my time tired and tense. I can't do that. I spent last night with awful tremors and a racing heart. My doctor says it is probably a side effect of one of my meds but maybe not, you know? I have some tremors when I am totally relaxed and about to go to sleep. But last night it was so scary. It's never been like that before. And when we were having sort of almost sex kind of, my right arm shook in sets of three as if there were 3 separate muscles there and it made my arm shake violently. It was scary. And afterwards I didn't just get the usual shaking like you do after some good time with your girl, it was more violent and it lasted for a long time.

I'm exhausted because we've hardly slept, mostly due to the fact that she has had issues and has either needed to talk or has gone on the couch, which means I can't sleep. So I think my sore throat is partially due to that. I cannot HANDLE this. I want to be able to handle it. I love her, I really do. But I don't know how to make this work. I can't do the serious stuff every day. I need fun and lighthearted. When I get back from school I need calm. I feel like I am losing my independence. How do married people do this? I do want her around but it is sinking in how much I am giving up and changing to do this.

I'm tired and sick and I don't know what to do.

Girl advice. Oh women and their estrogen.

Hi, I'm back. I need to vent and I have questions. So this girl, R. We've been doing email for over a week since she's been on a retreat. We don't know each other REALLY well, although we've accomplished 8 hours of talking in 2 days (in person). So we're getting there. And we feel close. She feels the connection too. I really like her. But I just saw even more red flags. If I'm being ridiculous, please tell me. If you have any advice, I'm welcoming that as well. I won't get upset or anything, I'm just wondering what to do. I don't want to just leave this without a good reason. And keep in mind this is after she insisted she was like a certain TV character who carries a lot of emotional baggage and takes it out on others (and has a really annoying voice, and is a doctor, hint hint). I can't fault her for having her views on sex shaped by her past because mine is too. And she's alluded to past trauma and how she opens up to few but she feels she can to me which is great but hey it's very early for serious talking and now I feel responsible for her mental health. Anyway.

Late last night I got an email from her saying that she needed to wait a few days to see me after getting home, and said her deep dark places came up and she needed to take care of those before seeing me. I guess she had been crying and she just wasn't in the right place right now to see anyone. I get all that. Sometimes we need a few days. But that combined with all of her insinuations about past trauma and making jokes about her life being one big crisis just makes me wonder. I responded to her last night by saying something like, if you have to do your thing, do your thing. I have to be getting ready for school but at some point let me know you're around around and we can do something then. If there's too much going on to get me all up in it, that's OK too. I just need to know.

I thought that was fair. I was half asleep but I got the point across. The last thing I want is to be in a position where I'm playing therapist. I want an equal. I have trauma too. I still have times where I need to go be alone because something brought up a flashback. But it has come up so many times in this very new thing (we have only gone on a couple dates and been emailing for a few weeks) makes me think that it's way too new to do anything with me.

I like the idea that we can grow together, because some things can't be dealt with until you can actually apply them. For example, a lot of my sexual issues can't be dealt with until it actually happens, and then I can help retrain myself not to dissociate. But I am so scared that it is going to turn into something where we both can't live without each other and get all wrapped up in each other's trauma. Can't do it. Back in the day I would have told her my life story already. I've learned to STFU. And I love the new healthy me.

I typed that I wasn't sure if it was a crisis that precluded being with someone, because at the time she hadn't explained it (she was moving and was really sad at leaving her roomie's dog behind). She had started typing, but as soon as I said I was leaving she just said goodbye. I'm afraid it might be the case.

Any ideas on how to proceed? How to find out if she's ready? If this can be healthy? Like I said, because of our connection, I'm reluctant to just cut it off. At least not unless I KNOW it's bad. and I don't know yet. I am just scared. I'm scared of getting into something I can't get out of. I'm scared of the thought of sitting around rehashing stuff I've worked for years to put behind me. I'm just scared. I'm ready to handle a healthy relationship. But I need her to be the same way. Or at least willing to work really really hard.

Also, check out the new tattoo! It means I have conquered. It's directly below scars on my wrist. So yes the tattoo is visible but easy to cover with bracelets, and the location is significant. I'm totally in love with it. What I like about this picture is that it's evident how much happier and calmer I am. It feels so good to be alive and healthy and bright and shiny.

I'm back!

Hi there. Remember me? I have all sorts of fun things to tell y'all. First of all, I'm FINALLY happy. Truly, honestly, happy. I haven't been this happy, satisfied, and calm in 10 years, almost exactly. And it's because I kept demanding a proper diagnosis and didn't rest until I found one, and then not until I found a doctor who validated my fears about medication side effects. I finally found both of those things. I'm on a blend of medications that is perfect for me. I've also lost 20 pounds. Mostly due to eating less meat and just being aware of what I eat and not going above my calorie limit. So life is good. I FEEL better as well as looking thinner.

I also met a girl. Before you make any assumptions, I was just as happy with life before I met her. I'm extra excited right now but my happiness is not tied to other people. I feel very connected to her for many reasons. However, she compared herself to a TV character who is generally noted to have lots of drama and lots of baggage. That sent a major red flag. I have had drama in my past as well, but I'm over it. And I couldn't even think of dating someone until I was happy with myself and not constantly be affected by my past. I just hope that her past is behind her enough to really have a relationship that isn't codependent. Nothing is wrong now. I just keep steering away from serious conversations because we've just met. It's not time for that. I am not ready to make myself vulnerable to her, nor do I want her to open herself up THAT much to me now. There is time for that. Right now I'm just enjoying being with her. We enjoy talking and that's new for me. The whole talking while sitting on opposite ends of the couch thing. People do that? But at the same time, like I said, I'm keeping my emotions to myself. At least the complicated heavy ones.

It's strange looking at relationships this way. I was always the one pouring my heart out to people, jumping into bed with them, and forming strong attachments very early on. I was the essence of borderline. Inside sometimes I still feel that way, but not overall. It's hard for me to believe that I'm the one guarding myself. But it's truly what I want. The last thing I need is to get so involved and codependent that I lose focus. I can't afford to do that with the kind of job I have. But right now, it's going just fine. I think she got the hint that I'm not ready to talk about these things. Someday.

I get the feeling she will want to wait a long time before sex. That's hard for me to get my mind around, but I think it will be good for me. I don't want to push her, and often when I start the sexual part of a relationship, the other parts go out the window. So maybe if I wait, there can be a proper balance between sex, conversation, and just being with each other without touching.

If you've read through this whole thing, congrats. I suppose I'm long winded since it's been a while since I've posted. But here's me. I'm thinner and very happy. Also, my cleavage looks fucking awesome.

I just came so hard my hand is shaking. Just one, for some reason. I have it really bad for a straight girl. My gaydar went WAY off when I saw her and when I found out she wasn't gay, I was shocked. We spend a considerable amount of time talking and man. She's hot, athletic, and likes teaching. Perfect! Except for the straight thing. Don't get me wrong, I love my straight friends, but when I want to date them the straight thing gets in the way.

She came to the bar with me the other night when I was hanging out with my brother and uncle. And today my mind just wandered and I imagined she followed me into the bathroom and kissed me, and then I did something totally un-me. I put HER up against the wall and made her arch her back and yell as loudly as she'd dare.

Operation Toaster Oven has commenced. I want this girl. And now that she is no longer subbing at my school, it's open field.

And if the sex is anything like this just was, I won't want to leave my bedroom all summer. I have a blissfully child free summer. I love being a teacher. And I love liking girls.

Tumblr

Still alive. Entry coming soon. To hold you over, I got a tumblr, and it's full of pretty girls in varying degrees of nakedness. Find it here!

My thoughts on self injury, the day after

"I was trying to get equilibrium from two extremes: either I was so upset that I had to cut myself to relieve it, or I was so numb that I had to cut myself to get back to being there." Women Living with Self Injury

Well, there was that. The marks were gone this morning. I was disappointed. I like marks. I carry my history on my skin and I'm a little proud of that, as twisted as it is.

I know why I'm feeling weird about this cutting business. I had a revelation, driving to Taco Bell to get some cheap comfort food. I talked to BFF earlier and sounded very calm about the whole thing. And I was last night, in a way. See, the ache was inside. The butterflies were. But my head was calm and my voice was even. I explained that I think of it like my X@n@x (I'm hoping this will help eliminate spam commenters): a quick fix that works, even though as a habit it's bad. I'm using pain to medicate my anxiety. And it works quite well. To me, it's like taking my medicine. No stigma. To me, that is. But since I've been on this L@mictal, my speech is even and calm. My thoughts move at a normal pace and do not make me dizzy. I can think about things in a logical order and contemplate the possible effects of my actions.

However, my medicine does not take away the feeling. The feeling that makes me cut. It's hard to imagine. I feel my ache in the same spot, near my stomach, and I point to it when I talk about it. Think about the achy feeling you get when you break up with someone. The panic you feel when you think you're losing them. The dread of something looming in the future. All of those feelings put together is what I feel like when I'm scared or sad and I want to cut. Cutting makes it go away. Not forever, but for the moment. And it helps me sleep. But my speech belies my emotion.

Before I took medicine, I was a much more intense person. Not to say that I'm boring now, but there was a definite difference. That's part of both bipolar and borderline. I don't get the rushes I did then. So even though I want to cut, I don't get the rush of thoughts that come out in my speech, making it seem like I'm faking. And this whole slow thing makes me WANT to cut. I miss that feeling.

I want my rushes back. I want the adrenaline, the heart pounding, and the swirling thoughts. I felt alive. So yeah, I'd cut to get that back.

Now that I've figured that out, maybe I can find other ways to calm down. I don't know. But it scares me that I'm so calm about it. It means the next time I feel bad, I'll feel no qualms about just going right ahead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Relevant Quotes I got from here

The plain fact of it was that I was miserable—though my misery wasn’t so much sadness as it was a shrieking unease, a gnawing despair, which I had been trying that morning to cut out of myself. –Caroline Kettlewell, Skin Game

I started cutting because at a particular point in my life I ran afoul of a certain unique set of circumstances for which neither experience nor my own emotional constitution had equipped me. I can’t say what precise conjunction of factors led me to choose self-mutilation as my recourse, nor can I say how my life might have been different if any one of these factors had been otherwise. All I can say is that my skin itself seemed to cry out for an absolution in blood.
I kept cutting, because it worked. When I cut, I felt better for a while. When I cut, my life no longer overwhelmed me. I felt too keenly the threat of chaos, of how things can get away from you in a thousand ways… Entropy keeps eating at the ramparts, and I cut to try to shore them up. –ditto

I stopped cutting because I always could have stopped cutting; that’s the plain and inelegant truth. No matter how compelling the urge, the act itself was always a choice. I had no power over the urge, but the act itself was always a choice. I had no power over the flood tide of emotions that drove me to that brink, but I had the power to decide whether or not to step over. Eventually I decided not to.
Stopping, however, was not at all the same thing as ending the desire. Even now, I still sometimes ache with a fierce, organic need for cutting’s seductive, minimalist simplicity. I expect that I will always be the kind of person who is too much aware of the boundlessness of chaos; it’s like having an unfortunate sixth sense, alive to the teeming, invisible undercurrents of anarchy streaming past us as every moment. I don’t say it makes me stronger, or more interesting, or gives me character; it’s just a part of my fabric of self. –ditto

It serves a lot of functions in my life. I use it as a way to punish myself, I use it as a way to medicate myself, I use it for the tension release when things get too strong or too built up. –Meredith, in Jane Wegscheider Hyman’s Women Living with Self-Injury

When I’'m done, after this big huge buildup, then there’s an overwhelming feeling of calmness, an overwhelming sense of peace. –ditto

My wounds
do the weeping
I cannot.
–S. Marie

Help.

I went through things in the attic. I found old joiurnal entries, some marked with blood from when I cut while I was writing. It brought back vivid memories of nights that I've talked about so often that I feel numb to them, but when I read these pages, it was written so close to the event that it seemed more real to me. I felt off for the rest of the day.

I went to The Creep's facebook page (we're not friends but he's friends with a lot of mine). His profile picture is him with some girl. This girl is very attractive. She's someone I would hit on. She has better hair than me. I got all funny feeling.

And now I want to cut. I haven't wanted to this much in a while. I avoided the hardware aisle in the drugstore because I knew I'd want to buy razors. I have sharp knives here but I have to be careful with those. I don't want to cut too much. It is very controlled.

The scars on my legs are like tally marks. How many times have I felt chaos inside? How many times have I needed to make it go away?

I need to go to sleep. I want to be rested for school. If I start the Monday off tired, it throws my whole week off. But I want to make my insides quiet.

*five minutes passes*

I tried to cut. It didn't work. The blade is too dull and if I pull it along my skin, it's a long knife and I'm afraid it would make a long cut. One that would need medical attention, which I want to avoid. I'm very careful and methodical about this. I always have been. So I scratched. I didn't draw blood but I left a lot of red stinging skin. I feel a little quieter. Not as good as if I had cut, but better. Maybe able to sleep.

I hadn't self injured in 2 years. Fuck.

A long goodbye.

I don't really write here anymore. I suppose I don't know what to write about. I wish I didn't have to compartmentalize my life and my blogs.

I think I'm going to leave this one be for a while. Come visit me at this address here to read about my daily life adventures with being a teacher and having mental health issues. This blog has served its purpose. I will come back to it when I need to. So don't unsubscribe it from your reader or anything. If you come read, read my other blog. I'm on my way to updating it right now.

Wait, who?

So, you know how I said I was so happy?

Yeah, I take that back. I cried in therapy Friday for the first time in a long time. I don't cry much anymore, but before I knew what was happening, I felt tears not only in my eyes but sliding out down to my temples...my head was tilted sideways, in my hands. I was starting to talk about how I am fitting into my new identity, and figuring out what that is. Loren asked me how I felt about that. Cue the tears.

How does it feel? Well, it feels like I've stepped into someone else's skin. It doesn't fit. I can move around like I did before, but the way my body responds is unfamiliar. I look at myself in the mirror. I see hair growing out, a nice sweater, and nice makeup. I have a counter full of vegetables and tofu in the freezer. These might all be objectively good things, but they are foreign to me. Me, the fresh-faced, hoodie wearing, spiky haired, Taco-Bell eating person.

What I cannot figure out, and what's impossible to ever know, is if this is really Em minus bipolar, or if this is Em On Medication; medication that changed my personality and preferences. I hate the thought that so much of my identity was wrapped up in bipolar. I WANT to feel wild and crazy. I want my spark back. I'm boring myself. I used to be opinionated and interesting. Now I sit at home eating tofu reading books. I'm not ready for this. I don't want to take my medicine. I can't even take pictures. I can't see things anymore. I miss the person I was. I'm grieving for her.

The more people tell me I seem different, the worse I feel. I just want to know if this is the real me. What IS the real me?

And I still get irritable so it's not as if I'm a zombie with no mood changes. I guess my lightning fast flashes are gone. I should wait and settle into myself for a while, I know. If I go off this particular med for 3 days, I have to start all the way back and titrate back up. That would really screw with me, as well as make the side effects resurface. And also, that means I'd have to get the prescription for the starter pack and that means telling my doctor. She would not be happy. And I'm a people pleaser.

It all just feels so strange. I'm glad I don't spend all my time angry or down, but I'm not sure about all these changes. Just not sure.

Hey beautiful people
I know I've been gone. I've been too busy to really consider many of the things I discuss here.

I'm so happy. Lamictal saved my life. For the first time in, oh, 8 years, I feel...sane. Normal. I'm not being dragged around by my emotions. My entire identity revolved around my emotions and mood swings. So much of it was tied to my bipolar. Now that it's taken care of, I don't know what to do with myself or who the hell I am. I'll write more about that later.

I want some vegetarian recipes. I'm not sure I'm actually going totally veggie, but definitely cutting down on meat. And also, how do you people eat vegetables? I grew up in a meat and potatoes family. No idea how to eat veggies except in salad, and that can get boring unless it's spiced up. Help!

PS-I've been having trouble with spam commenters. I might have to add the word verification on here, even though it's a pain. Sorry. I'm just tired of deleting the spam.