Borderline

'pressed

2012-01-03T01:01:00.000-08:00

Today is not a good day for me. I am feeling really down and like no one really cares. I have all these friends on my facebook and they are people I know in real life, yet I hear no replies to my messages. It makes me feel even worse than I already do. It is not a great place to be in.

Maybe it's just a seasonal thing. Or maybe it's the poor sleep pattern. I'm not sure. But right now I miss my friends.

I love so easily and care so deeply for people. I think of nearly everyone I was close to at one time and i long for that closeness and friendship to be there again. But people get married, have kids, lose touch and sometimes there are issues that cannot be overcome. That doesn't mean my care for them is gone. But they move on and I am stuck in the past.

I hate this disease! It makes it so difficult to be happy. It makes it so easy to fall into the hole I clawed my way out of.

I am sure this will pass, just as it always does. But I am not feeling great right now. I am sad and lonely and a little angry that I give so much and do no seem to get much in return.

Free to Choose?

2011-11-07T03:29:00.000-08:00

Sabine has asked me to move in with her again. We will have to get rid of furniture and clutter we have accumulated over the years. We will also be living in a much smaller apartment with only one bed room and one bathroom.

It is a great idea for finances. If her ex continues to be a jerk and withhold monies from her, she will need the help. As of now, I am here more than at my place and I have bought food for her and litter and cat food. I am trying to help her but then I think that this is all so ridiculous.

Her apartment is on the 2ND floor. 15 steps. I have very bad knees. My apartment is on the ground floor. No stairs and no hills really.

And of course I am hesitant to live in the confines of such a small place. What if we don't get along again? What if we irritate each other? And of course there is the tediousness of moving AGAIN. I signed a lease.... So I don't know what to do.

Do I love my girl? Without a doubt. Am I afraid? Absolutely. I just have to decide what impact this change could bring and if that is worth it. I don't want to lose again.

Forced Changes

2011-10-31T02:59:00.000-07:00

Nothing stays the same. and that's usually a good thing. Change is welcome when the situation you are in is not a good one or you are just plain bored with your life. But then there is sudden, dramatic change.

It can be overly traumatic when you find yourself in unwanted, unyielding change. Your closest friend moving away. having to take an elderly animal to a shelter. Being taken away by police. Having guns pointed at you. Being held at a mental health facility. Losing your place to live. And not knowing if the person you love with all your heart will ever speak to you again.

Those were (and some still are) the changes I have had to deal with.

I spent nearly a month moving and helping my love move into her new place. I had to find my own place and figure out how to live on a tight budget.

Fortunately, things are working out with my very special girl and me. I am scared to be alone at my place, but she has me over to hers often and for a few days at a time. The budget it massively different. And she cannot help me as much as she thought she could.

My life has changed a lot in the past month. I will not phone the police. I have a protective order against me (it will be dropped soon though). I've had to move into my own place alone. I haven't lived alone in about 10 years.

My girl says our relationship will be just fine even though we don't live together. Honestly, I'm not sure of that. How can people remain close if they live apart? How can we remain in love if there is fear or mistrust? I'm not sure if I feel okay about how things went. I'm not sure I feel okay... I really don't know.

All I know is that I was forced into changes. I have been traumatized and I am very unsure about how things will turn out.

Crazy Is

2011-09-21T02:25:00.000-07:00

The problem with being crazy, is actually being crazy.

Unfortunately, the system for tending to the mentally ill does not always work the best. We run out of medication and think we are fine, the we go longer and longer and by the time we realise we are not fine, the agency responsible for our care says we waited too long. With the medication gone, we are not longer clear, no longer safe. And it all just spirals.

We can't figure out how to solve the problem right in front of us. When our minds work correctly, then the sollution is easy to find and accept. But with the chaos of our minds and that feeling of your mind crumbling into itself, thre just is no answer to be found at the time.

The Lost Girl

2011-06-22T04:43:00.000-07:00

I have been making plans to go to Australia. So far nothing is set in stone. Aside from the fact that I have been fascinated with Australia as a whole since I was a child, I have some Internet friends that live there. I would love to meet face to face with the people I have been chatting with over the years. I also have a friend who is very ill.

When I was in college, my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer. This was less than a year after my mother died from cancer. She was going through treatments and my dad got the family together to go see her. I was out of state at a private university so I didn't have the money to go. My family offered to pay. I came down with walking pneumonia and I was worried about making my grandmother more ill so I didn't go. She died a short while later.

Right now, I am not in the best financial situation to make a trip half-way around the world. But I am determined not to have any regrets when my friend does pass. I don't want to feel guilty for never seeing her or never attempting to.

I worry that I will get there and there will be excuses not to see me. I worry we will not get along in person. I know, I worry too much. But people are not always what they seem from behind a computer screen. I try to be myself. Most people are fake or at least not as honest as when you are face to face with them.

Also, I have to consider that just to get on a plane, I will need to loose weight. I don't want to run into the embarrassing situation of not fitting in a seat and needing an extender then being charged for another seat.

Since I've not figured it all out yet, I feel like a lost little girl. It's like being thrown into the woods blindfolded and trying to find your way out with no resources. I'm confused, scared, frustrated and I feel very alone in this.

SELF

2011-04-23T00:27:00.000-07:00

Who am I?

What does it matter?

I feel so lost right now. I'm not sure what I am here for or who I am. I feel like I am slipping, my memory is breaking.

Is it from not practicing remembering or is it just a progression of mental illness or a side effect of one of the medications I am on? I don't know. I do know I feel like my mind is scattered in a million directions.

I am not sure how to refocus or how to get back the near perfect memory I once had. I feel like I have lost myself. I have slipped into inky darkness with no hope of resurrection.

When Friendships "Attack"

2011-02-03T06:59:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I was speaking with a friend that I've known for 7 years. During the course of our conversation, we had a disagreement over something very silly. My friend was upset by it. She asked if I went to college. But the way she said it seemed like she assumed I had not gone and was ignorant. Not only did it hurt my feelings that she assumed I had not gone to college, but I was also really insulted at what that implied. I said goodnight to her and went to cool off.

This reminded me of something that happened when I was in 6th grade. My best friend and I at the time had an argument over a few cents in change. She became so angry that she threw all the change into my locker and stopped speaking to me. We probably both said some things we didn't mean, I honestly can't remember now. She has not spoken to me since.

It seems that I get to a certain point in all my friendships or relationships and it goes wrong. Friends I had for 10 years or more no longer speak to me. Their lives are better without me (in their words). And I know some of that has to do with my depression being an emotional drain. Fortunately, I am doing much better now with proper medications.

Anyway, it seems that I am not very good at relationships. Maybe I cling too close or love too deeply. Maybe it is the anger I have struggled with for so long (though that is much much better). Or the depression that sometimes threatens to devour me. Maybe it's the people I choose. I honestly don't know.

When I tell people that things are part of my disorder, they get frustrated with me. Of course not everything can be excused with that phrase. But I am not trying to excuse, only explain that I have very little power over being borderline and sometimes I am worn out and make mistakes.

I am physically unwell pretty often also and that frustrates the people I love. And people who know me. They get tired of hearing it. But I get tired of it too. I am tired of not walking and not being able to hike. I am tired of taking a hand full of pills twice a day to keep my symptoms (physical health) in check. I am tired of being fat.

I have always wanted to be a person who built others up. But it seems I am the wrecking ball in my relationships. All I can do is learn. And try. And live. It is just not easy when friendships attack.

Vacation Vacancy

2009-07-07T02:30:00.000-07:00

I know it seems silly to feel vacant and alone when you've only been a day without a person. It may seem silly to miss them at all when they will only be gone for two weeks and you speak on the phone daily. But then again, most people do not think and feel the way I do.

When I first moved here, the one I love was away for weeks at a time getting things settled with the old place and finishing moving. She missed my birthday. Then Valentines Day. I had nothing here at first. Then the place was filled with her things and that made me miss her more when she went to see family for 2 weeks.

Recently we went on vacation in Oregon. I had a really good time and I was excited to show her around where I used to live and have her meet my remaining family. We had a lot of fun and some stresses while looking for housing. When we came home, there was a period of mania that kept me away from her. But then things sorted out and we were spending time together.

It felt like I could never get enough time with her. I wanted to be near her all the time and we spend the nights talking and watching television. We laughed and worked with the bird and went about our days. But inside me, I felt more of a need for her. I felt more connected to her than ever before and I wanted more and more of her attention and affection.

Now she is on vacation. And I miss her presesnce acutely. I don't know why, but it feels as if I have lost my direction. I have no desire to eat or move or wake or sleep once I wake. I just want to be with her. I did take more medicine today and that has helped, but all my thoughts are with her and on her.

I think of her constantly. I feel empty without her here. I long for her touch, her voice and the scent of her hair. I feel alone and lost.

Perhaps it is silly to you. Perhaps not. But my heart is hers. My soul is connected to her. All that I am is for her. And I cannot wait for her to be in my arms again.

The Lone Wolf

2009-06-19T23:56:00.000-07:00

Not many people can tell, with my blond hair and blue eyes, that I have Native American blood in my lineage. When I was younger, I became very interested in that aspect of my ancestry. Though I have not done tribe specific research, I did come across information on "spirit guides" and "totem animals". Shamans, medicine men and other spiritual advisers say that the animal you are most drawn to and share the most traits with is your totem or spirit animal.

All my life, I have been drawn to the wolf. The wolf is loyal, mating for life. It is family oriented, living in a pack. It is strong, quick and intelligent shown in the way it organizes hunts. But like people, there are times when a wolf does not fit. Either the fur is an odd color, making it stick out and hard to be an effective hunter, or it is ill or old and thus cast out.

Most of the times, I thought of myself as being a part of the larger group, but as my mental illness has gotten worse, I felt more and more drawn to the black she-wolf. The loner who cares for her pups (whatever shape they take). The one who tries to join in only to be excluded or chased off.

My mental illness makes it difficult to fit in. Most of the time, I get by on the outskirts of society. But like a lone wolf, I cannot glean the benefits of society for long without being noticed and singled out. Eventually, the misfit in me is discovered and I am chased away from the pack once again.

"Cracked emotions"

2009-06-18T21:59:00.000-07:00

"What does it mean that you have 'cracked emotions'?"

That is what my darling one asked me today. We had a long discussion over feelings and the realisation that I felt I would be asked to leave. We talked and there were tears from me, but I am not sure if from her. All I know is I was a wreck.

I have BDP (borderline personality disorder). One of the diagnostic criteria for this is that people with BDP have "inappropriate affect". That means the emotional response is not what one would expect from others without BPD. The response can be too over the top or seem completely lacking in emotion. Say a dog dies in a TV show. Yes it's sad. Most people would say so and move on. Someone who is borderline may weep and be extremely sad. Or they could inappropriately joke at a funeral, or have no emotional feeling towards those events at all.

When I said I am emotionally cracked, I mean that I'm fragile. Like those candle holders made of glass that is all crackled. They can handle heat, but too hot of a candle will make it shatter. Or a sudden drop in temperature will shatter it. You can have the candle holder in the sunlight for years and then one day it shatters from the temperature change. that is how I am. I used to be unafraid of the things of life. Now I am fearful. I used to be the one to take care of things, but now I feel if I have too much I will fall apart or shut down. I used to be able to take and take the words of those around me, but now everything hits like an arrow to my sensitive heart.

I'm not saying I cannot handle life. Even the crackled candle-holder is serviceable for holding a lit flame. I am not saying a cannot manage stress. No one has to walk around on eggs shells, I just need a little consistency. I need to know things will be the same day after day, or similar. Maybe I have had too much "life" in a short time. But I am that crackled candle-holder and I need to know you will not be the heat or cold that shatters me.

Secrets I Keep

2008-12-09T04:00:00.000-08:00

There are secrets I have hidden away in the corners of my mind. Memories of things I experienced that I sometimes wish I could share. But I am ashamed. I am afraid. I guess it's the borderline in me. So fearful I will be rejected by the ones I love that I do not dare to reveal these secret torments from my past.

How does one remain whole, when the thing that eats her up cannot be revealed?

It is like a disease. A worm, eating away at the tissues of normal life. It makes the whole in my brain grow daily. The secrets threatening to spill forth from it.

Mostly the worm sleeps. The memories are safe and secured and push aside while the worm is in active. But other times, the ravenous worm threatens to destroy me. It eats at the walls I've placed about these memories and I long to tell, to somehow get it all out. As if that will make me a whole person.

Really what good would it it do to tell? I do not want bad feelings between myself and those who exposed me to the secrets. It has been so long. I wonder if they remember? Or is the secret only my burdon?

A Tiny Noise at Night

2008-11-24T00:46:00.000-08:00

Today, I saved a life. Maybe more than one.

I didn't swoop in a save someone from being killed or stop a car accident or anything directly heroic.

I heard the high pitched ringing of a smoke detector after watching a movie and tried to figure out where the noise was coming from. It wasn't in my apartment so I checked outside and heard it coming from a neighbour's apartment. I heard a sizzling noise and smelled like a grease fire. I knocked a couple times and he didn't answer so I called 911. The neighbour above him came downstairs and we looked in on his balcony and saw some smoke but the alarm stopped. The alarm started again and the police arrived. They had to break the door down and drag him out.

I don't know what all else happened. I do not want fame or anything for checking on a man I didn't know. It was the right thing to do.

I never put myself in harms way. I didn't break his door down. But I know some of my neighbours are safe because I didn't ignore a tiny noise at night.

Mike

2008-09-09T21:37:00.000-07:00

This is from a letter I wrote to a guy friend. I am hoping he will understand why I needed to write this to him. I loved him. I wanted to be with him. I wrote his parents thanking them for raising him so well. Now, years later, I felt I had to tell him how his words effected me.

I was thinking earlier about how things went when you came to see me in Myrtle Creek. It was not the best situation. My dad was there working on a water main. My brother, my sister in law, brother her, brother her dad and the baby were there and I had my friend Kat living with us. I had just been out fixing the pipe with my dad and my nice clothes got dirty so I was in sweats when you came. It was just bad. Then I remember you telling me I was not womanly enough for you.

I thought that was odd, since I was only myself the whole time I had known you and I didn't understand how seeing me at home (and under stress) made you think of me as unwomanly. So I tried to make myself the kind of Godly woman you might want. I worked hard studying women in the Bible and reading books on being a Godly woman. I told you all about it, but it seemed like you had made up your mind. I tried my best to be what I thought you wanted.

Then I fell away from God and away from the hope of having a man in my life. I lived for several years in same sex relationships. Always feeling there were things missing. At the same time I was with women, I was attracted to men. But I was too insecure to make a move on a shy guy. So I languished and became ill.

Now I am living with a wonderful woman. She is my best friend, my mirror to reflect beauty from. We speak of God and study scripture and it is wonderful to be drawn back to a place of Godliness. Also, I have learned about dressing a little more feminine without having to give up comfort. It is nice to wear a feminine top and nice jeans and tall boots to a dinner.

Anyway, I am rambling. I hope all is well for you . I will pray for you and your grant writing. I wish you all the best.

Love,
KAT

A New Journey

2008-01-02T21:19:00.000-08:00

A new year. A new life. A new home. A new love. So much has happened so fast in my life. I met a wonderful woman named Sabina through online roleplay. I am not sure why, but I was drawn to her from the very beginning. She and I became fast, close friends. There was an attraction there, but she was straight.

Eventually she asked me to come out to meet her in real life. I went to Arizona to meet her, her daughter and grandchildren. It was nice to be around children and meet all the animals (frogs, a guinea pig and birds). Best of all, I found my soul mate.

Her eyes draw me in. Her voice soothes me. Her arms wrap me tightly to her. I feel full, complete, loved, needed, WANTED like I have never felt before. Her touch, her laughter, her smile. The way she bops to music. I love it all. We can talk for hours on end and never be bored with each other. And I love having conversations with her. We talk about writing, Religion, life, our pasts, what we dream of and silly things like roleplay.

I love her. So deeply. I would do anything to make her happy.

So we decided after my visit that I would move there. At first I was to live alone but then she wanted me with her. It went back and fourth. Things changed with the apartments available and now, finally, we are simply waiting to hear back from the complex. I think all will work out fine. I can't wait to be in the arms of my wonderful woman again.

Changes

2007-07-20T13:45:00.000-07:00

Kat has lived with me for 6 years. She is someone I met while I was a counsellor in a Christian chatroom on MSN. I have always loved Kat. I have always tried to take care of her and protect her from herself and others. Kat has some health and mental problems. She is legally blind, diabetic, MPD and Bi-polar among those problems. I have been kicked, bitten, punched, shoved, pinched, yelled at, had things thrown at me. Always I used enough force to get her to stop and no more.

When Kat came to live with me in Oregon, she was scared of everything. Her mother had controlled her her entire life and abused her in many ways. Kat came to depend on me heavily. I wanted to help her get things better sorted. She ended up being my everything. Like a child who needed care, a woman who needed love, and a best friend who needed encouragement to succeed.

We have struggled at times with not making ends meet or not being in the best living arrangement. I was really sick for three months and she tended to me. Then I got sick again. Little illnesses over a years time. No energy, no time to play, not doing the chores I used to because I was too weak or drugged. She got sad and lonely and was really down.

She threw herself into a world of roleplay and fantasy. She tried to get me involved, but I was always thinking "Why play at it when I live with you?" That was a mistake. I should have seen the way she was reaching out to me and how she needed my to step up and be more.

Tuesday I had surgery on my sinuses to help me feel better and get ill less often. I was a really sick person when I got home since they gave me insulin. My blood sugar went nuts. Kat took care of me and made sure I was okay, even though she was on the phone to an ageplay friend. Dawn doesn't know how to deal with diabetes. She doesn't really even know how to deal with emotions.

Kat left Wednesday. She took a bus to Georgia. Kind of full circle I guess since when she came to live with me, she came from Georgia. She is not with her family, thank God. She went to live with a woman and her two daughters and two grand children. I am not sure how this will go over, but I do know I have not been able to speak with her since she got there. Phone seems to cut me off everytime I call there. If I don't hear from her by next week there will be greater force in my efforts.

When I started writing this yesterday, I was very very upset. I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe. I felt totally alone, then I accidentally shut this window. I thought I lost all the writings. Thank God for auto save.

I am so very lonely. I miss Kat. He laughter, the constant music or sound of games, her random hugs or calling "mommy" to make lunch or dinner. I miss all that and I want it back. But she chose to move and needs to have this time to spread her wings and stretch her legs. Maybe the "itchy feet" will end with this journey. Maybe there is a u-turn in this road and she comes back my way. Whatever it is, my life has changed.

I have learned I need to pay more attention to those I care for. That just because someone is right next to you doesn't mean they don't feel alone or lonely. I learned to say things when you finally know you love someone and can't live without them. I have learned that in 6 years your entire world can change and you not realise how much until one person is removed. I have learned that I love Kat more than I could ever understand or say.

Sierra

2006-09-12T15:56:00.000-07:00

3 years ago Dawn asked if a family of four could come stay with us. They had been kicked out of their place and there were two kids. I agreed and once Dawn got to Oklahma city to pick them up she found they had four dogs. Two were their roommate's dogs and had been abandoned. We had just lost most of our pets so I agreed to take the dogs as ours. After everyone left. We still had these two dogs. Dawn was no longer living with us and Sierra, the little black chow mix, and Lucky, a yellow chow and retriever mix, were now part of our family. My younger brother passed away and we had to kennel the dogs.

In June of this year, we moved to a different house. (Dawn had moved back.) We had the dogs chained outside but we hadn't had a chance to make a dog house so the dogs were chained out side excpt during rain.

This morning I went to let the dogs out. They went running and wouldn't come back. Lucky went across the street and Sierra ran after him. She was hit by a pickup and went under it. She was just following her playmate and he made it faster than she did. She ran back to me had a couple spazzes and laid down and a few seconds later died. Her neck was broken.

I took her to the back yard and laid her down. The driver stopped in the road and probably saw her get up and run back to me and thought she was fine so they just kept going. I went to get Lucky from across the road so he didn't get hit too. I let him sniff Sierra then brought him in and told my roommates.

Dawn got a shovel and permission to burry Sierra from the Landlord's daughter. I burried her.

I lost all my strength after I told them. My legs gave out and I was crying. I had to hold on to things and pick myself up. I've never experienced grief like that. The tears came without burning. They just fell and fell. I'm not sure how I will deal with all this.

Surprise of Death

2006-09-04T10:51:00.000-07:00

I had a bit of a shock today. I read that Steve Irwin died. It was some sort of freakish accident while filming a documentary. Stung in the chest by a sting ray. ~shaking my head~ It is weird. I had kind of felt a connection to him and his wild ways of filming and working with animals. I had wanted to meet him and visit the Australian Zoo. His death just kind of made the bottom fall out of my heart. It was as if I lost a close friend. The only other famous person's death that effected me like this was when Vincent Price died. I cried at the loss of someone whose voice could send shivers down my spine when he narrated a story. When I was a child, I wanted to meet him and have a chance to work with him. But of course that was a fantasy and one which was never met.

So now what do I do with this grief? Grief over a person I never knew, but felt connected to. It's like a journey that ends before you leave your driveway. The loss of a hope and dream.

Since I can remember, I have wanted to go to Australia. I felt there was this sort of Oregon, Australia connection. My days were consumed with ideas of exploration of the then secret outback. I wanted to see first hand these strange marsupial creatures that only exist on this island nation. I never lost my affection for Australia, nor the desire to go there. When the Crock Hunter started to be shown on animal planet, I was always eager to watch. Then I learned his wife was from Oregon. I grew up in Oregon and for me, Steve Irwin had made that Oregon/Australia connection. His wife was from a place just two hours north of where I was raised.

I may never wrestle a crocodilian or chase after deadly snakes. But this is my small tribute to someone who made a dream of mine a little more real.

The Broken Path

2006-01-23T22:27:00.000-08:00

I often wonder why I keep changing. It seems I never know what I truly want to do. I started out with a pretty clear vision, but it seems things have fallen by the side of the road.

When I was a kid I wanted to be a scientist. I always loved animals and People. But I went to college and decided to follow music. I was good with science, but I loved music. I never felt good enough at music.

I never got parts in plays or musicals. At least not good ones. And it seemed there was always someone better.

Then I came to Texas and I actually got on scholarship. Yet I changed paths again. Religion.. Embracing my Christianity fully and learning like a new born does.

And now.... No church, no work. I'm bisexual and learning pagan arts... My path is broken and I'm not sure I can find my way.

Pain

2005-11-22T10:35:00.000-08:00

"Life is tough. Those who can handle it deal, those who can't take Paxil." That's what I said today while talking with a friend online.

I've been off Paxil for a month because the company stopped making it. Things are hard right now. I keep thinking of things about music and stuff, that I want to ask Dan. And then I have to stop and catch myself and make myself remember that he's dead. It's the holidays.

The Beast within

2005-10-20T00:10:00.000-07:00

Honestly, I've been very angry all day. I've wanted to beat things up and just tear into someone.

Every now and then I get into this mood where I want to kill someone. I want to hurt someone and watch them suffer and I want to methodically torture them. I never do anything about those feelings except let them go away. I'm afraid that one day I might snap and actually hurt someone.

I don't know how to make this go away. I don't know where it comes from. I just know that it is there and it is better for me to be quiet and withdrawn when I feel like this. I'm afraid to tell anyone about it. I don't want to be sent away because of these thoughts.

Thinking Thoughts

2005-10-10T07:23:00.000-07:00

So. Here I am thinking about things. Depressed and lonely and tired. I don't really know why I'm any of those things. I guess maybe because I'm confused.

I am supposed to be with Dawn. She is supposedly my spouse. But I can't quite trust her. She finally got a job after over a year of Kat and I paying for everything for her. But now that she has a job, I expect her to leave. She left before. And we never see each other... I don't know.

2005-09-30T01:22:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about a lot of things over the past few days. Memories and images crowd my mind and dreams are vivid and realistic.

When you're a kid, you never think your parents will die. You know they are there and you think that they always will be. They, not you are the invincable ones. When you get older and you're in your teens the idea of maybe going on without a partent crosses your mind, but you never really think about it. After all, you'll never be that old so it doesn't really stick in your mind. As you grow out of your teens you may notice new lines her and there on the faces of your parents. Still you assume they will always be there.

The idea of losing a parent didn't hit me until she was gone. My mother was hardly ever ill in my memory. She got a cold now and then, but she pushed through her day knowing she had things to do and shildren to take care of. Even when we first found out she had cancer, she pushed through things. Mom lived longer than they thought she would. But she still died.

Life changed for me in a profound way after caring for my mother for a year. I attended college full time and worked while caring for her as best as I could. After she died, my dad went over the edge. He always had an anger problem and it was even worse after her death. Finally I couldn't take it anymore. I moved in with a friends family and learned about closeness and love.

Finally it was time to come to college and I moved to Texas deciding to go at the last minute. I ended up in a place I felt was home for the first time in a along time. I met godly women and men and students who loved to worship and talk. I learned much in to years, including how to let go of people I fell in love with.

I went back to Oregon after a while and when I returned to Texas due to a series of circumstances, the college was no longer a home. I was treated as an outsider. Even my last semester when I lived on my own was weird. This place was no longer home.

The Sleeping Monster

2005-08-21T10:53:00.000-07:00

Depression is a deep part of my struggle. It's not even consious depression. It's this thing that comes over me every so often. It wraps it's arms around me and drags me under like an anaconda does to it's prey.

I don't want to do anything. I don't want to make choices, nor do I want them made for me. It's like the kid whos room is packed with toys, a stack of art supplies, a shelf of books, and has a back yard with a tree house in it, but has "nothing to do." There's no motivation.

Sometimes there's a profound sense of sadness and loss with no real reason. It feels like there's a constant lump in my throat. I'm on the verge of tears yet swallowing them down. Most days, when tears threaten, I can push them down. But when this things take hold of me, my mind lets loose all these emotions and memories and the crying starts. It's not just tears falling it's uncontrolable sobbing. This would happen almost daily before I was on medication.

It used to be that i would sit around and sigh when I was depressed. Or throw myself into so much I didn't have time to think about things. When depression did catch up with me, I would snack. If I had to do something, I didn't put much into it. I would cut to try to get endorphines. Even just the light scratches would snap me out because of the rush of adreneline at having to keep it a secret. The constant fear of someone finding out, gave a burst of energy.

Lately I sleep. I don't eat or write or read. I don't shower. I even will ignore taking my medicine. I just sleep. I say I'm fine. I even believe it at times. I might get up to go to the bathroom or do a chore that has to be done but mostly I sleep. I will eat a little, but nothing like what I would normally eat. I just plain don't "feel" good.

Most of the time no one notices anything except that i'm sleepy. I might not even recognize it as depression. I'll say i'm fine and really believe that until I get that rush of endorphines. When that happens, it's like the sleeping monster gets kicked and decides to step back. Laying under that monster is me. I've been squished and repressed by it. But once is leaves, I'm ready to live again.

An Anger Problem

2005-08-19T07:27:00.000-07:00

When I was in my early teens, I had become quite perverted in my thinking and speaking. I was quick with a comeback or a put-down.

That was before I became a Christian. I was into death and "trippiness" often feeling that I should have been born a hippy. I made my skin pale and wore all black before there were Goths in my town. I was pretty strange in general, but I had decided not to use drugs, drink, or have sex anymore.

One day I decided to work on my swearing. I would only say "damn." At the same time I decided I would approach things with an innocent clean mind. I also stopped being mean to those I picked on and decided to let myself trust people.

At the time I was into the occult. I was learning about Wicca and Paganism. I was also in the early stages of self-injury. I was thought to be depressed and suicidal. I was seeing the school counselor, but I hadn't been diagnosed as far as I knew.

All this worked out pretty well and my friends as well as teachers and classmates noticed the change. I was teased at times and called "gullible." I even loaned money to people I never saw again fully believing they would pay me back. I became equated with the ditzy blonde in the jokes going around at the time.

I had mastered addiction. I had mastered lust. I wasn't truly afraid of anything. I had changed myself and opened myself to experience life through new eyes. But for all the accomplishments and self-development, there was one thing I could only have limited control over. Anger. I had made myself not ticklish after being tickled to the point of not being able to breathe one day. I could turn off most pain or quickly get it under control. I would play the happy girl with no troubles and let things roll off my back. But eventually the pressure would build and like Vesuvius, I'd explode destroying everything in my path.

One thing I would never do is hurt a living thing. I knew I was physically strong and based on what I'd done to objects I took my aggression out on, I knew I could seriously hurt a person if I let myself.

Anger and sadness are the things that made life miserable. They were always there, always connected.

I'd get angry at messing up. I'd become sad that I messed up. I'd hurt myself in depression. Get mad that I hurt myself. Do something destructive and feel sad that I messed up. It was a Cycle. It wasn't until recently I learned I had Borderline Personality Disorder (which is not the same as Bi-Polar Disorder or Other Dissociative disorders).

Anger is still the hardest thing for me to master. I get so worked up and don't have anywhere to put it. I used to run, but I can't anymore due to and accident in 1996. Anger used to come out in self-injury but that is dangerous. Now I write or talk or do some wood working to calm myself down.

Admittedly there are still times when I explode, but they are fewer and farther between and they are not quite the magnitude they once were.

"The Razor's Edge"

2005-08-14T21:12:00.000-07:00

I often say it's like walking a razor's edge. Sanity and insanity. Real or not. Why a razor's edge? Unlike walking a fence where it's either one side or the other, a razor can split you. With BPD you can find yourself divided between the two sides and not always in half.

What I mean isn't an ethereal or deeply philosophical thing. It's simply that the mind blurs the realms together. A borderline often experiences dissociation or "Missing time." Caught in a day dream while taking notes in a class, you don't realize you had drifted off until the bell rings or the people around you are gathering their things.

It's sort of like this... Many people have postulated that the thing we experience as life, is really the dream of another. Sometimes the Borderline goes so far as to actually believe they are unreal. The postulation becomes their reality . They don't realize they are real. They wonder why they can't feel some things and why other things are felt so intensely. Am I real? Is what they ask themselves daily. They wake from sleep and wonder if it's one of those dreams that they keep thinking they are awake only to find it another dream. (This is one of the reasons for self-injury. If you can feel it you are real or the pinch that wakes you from a dream.)

It's like a radio station fading in and out. You're in reality, you're not. You're lucidly sane, you ponder that your universe is just a marble in a game in a much bigger picture imagined. You're an actor in a role, then you become that character and your self becomes distorted. You become the very thing you've pretended to be and now you can't find yourself.

"...borderline between what and what?!" Girl Interrupted

2005-08-01T07:02:00.000-07:00

This is a question I've often asked myself. I have borderline personality disorder. So what am I on the border of? I guess I've thought of it in several different ways. The one I use most to explain my disorder to others is a paraphrase of what a psychologist told me.

Borderline between sane and insane.

Being borderline for me is like walking a razor's edge of sane or insane. Jim Carey said it well in one of his comedy acts. "The difference between sanity and insanity is... ...saying 'yes' to the wrong impulse." For me, it's not that I consciencely choose to do something that tips me one way or another. It's more like this; A sane person knows they are sane. An insane person doesn't know they are not sane. A borderline knows something is wrong but may not be able to put a finger on it.

The trouble is because borderlines have unstable moods, unstable self-image and unstable relationships, they are often misdiagnosed.

There is no cure for the disorder, only therapy which may include medication for depression or anxiety but mainly consists of dialectic behavior therapy. (Learning to say "no" to the "...wrong impulse.")

Instability in relationships as well as moods and self-image. Clinging to people when I am sad or depressed of feeling inadequate. Afriad they will leave me and trying to please them. Then feeling on top of the world and confidant depending upon which way you lean at that given moment.

A wonderful day could be ruined by just a small thing that causes me to react in the over emotional borderline way. Hyperness, anger, sadness, love. It's all extreme. There is no medium, no norm with a borderline.

So what am I borderline between? I have yet to find a clear answer to that.

Confession of a Cutter

2005-07-27T23:32:00.000-07:00

One of the things that has gone along with being Bordeline is self-injury. For me it is cutting. Cutting has been my secret shame for many years. It is the reason I often wore long sleeves in hot weather, the reason I learned first aide and the reason I know share my experiences whenever I can. This is something I wrote a few days ago and I thought I'd put in here.

"Sometimes You Just Gotta Wonder if It's Worth It."

"At least when you cut there's immediate release. The skin opens, the blood flows, and the endorphines hit. You see the layers of flesh and know it is graphically real. The blood flows in real time and the drops splatter on the white floor. But then you realize cutting isn't the answer.

It used to be easy to deal with. Just clean it up and say a cat scratched you. The cuts weren't deep but there were sometimes a lot of them. So you stopped cutting for a long time. But when you did cut again, for whatever reason, the cuts were deeper.

At first you cut unevenly, layer by layer. It was like a paper shredder effect. Then it became easier to press harder and drag the blade slowly across your flesh. The first time you cut deep enough to scare you, you ended up in the State Mental Hospital. Then you did the unimaginable.

You cut in front of someone. It almost felt unreal. And the last time was the deepest. Each cut was deeper leaving a more grotesque scar. If you continue to cut, you may accidentally kill yourself.

You don't cut for death. You cut for release, to feel something other than the numbness of depression, to feel the rush of endorphines, to see what happens. But one time you may find a release like no other, one that you cannot reflect on. One time you will cut too deep and be dead."

This thing I wrote the other night was just a random thought pattern that came into my head. One of the many deep and sometimes morbid things I think about. These are things I rarely share with others. It tends to scare them and make them think of me differently.

The strange thinking or feelings are the curse of my existence. It is what has made it so hard for my family and closest friends to understand what I am trying to communitcate. It is what has caused me to feel isolated though I'm in the center of a crowd.

I have struggled with feeling out of place or "out of time" like I was born for the wrong generation or living in the wrong life. It has been this way all my life. It is this that at first made me so interested in science, then in becoming a nun and, later on, what turned me to the occult.

Introduction To Myself

2005-07-25T00:27:00.000-07:00

My name is Katherine Michelle Hunt. I go by KAT. I'm 28. I grew up in Oregon but I live in Texas now.

I am considered disabled. The official disability forms say that it is due to major depression. That's not the whole story though.

I have Bordeline Personality Disorder. (The definition is on the link.) For me this means I have a hard time keeping a job. I have trouble finding a place I feel like I fit. It's not terrible, but I do feel pretty useless at times.

I live with Kat and Dawn. We have two dogs and a few cats. I really enjoy having pets. Unfortunately we live in an area where it's not exactly safe to have your pets out doors so they live inside.

I came to Texas in 1998 to attend Wayland Baptist University. It was the first place I ever felt was like home. I attended school there for 2 years and then went back to Oregon. The in between is a long story, but the short of it is that I came back to Texas after meeting Kat.

We've been through a lot together and I love Kat in a way that I can't explain.