Healthy Body, Healthy Mind. Week 3

Wow what a mixed bag this week has been in terms of emotions. There have been some great personal achievements and some difficult moments. The roller-coaster of emotions has been difficult and downright exhausting at times. This lead to huge urges to binge and revert back to that safe coping mechanism which has served me so well in the past. 

I found this weeks mindfulness group really triggering. Others in the group disclosed personal difficulties which I couldn't help but get overly emotional about. It's like I suck up the ambient emotions around me and add them to my already overflowing sensitivity. As if I'm a magnet for others pain. I also didn't complete the homework which triggered guilt, a very difficult emotion for me.

While I was paying attention to the other peoples problems in the group I really wasn't being mindful to my own escalating emotional state. We did a gratitude exercise where each of us listed the things we were most grateful for in the present moment. Some mentioned their houses and family, and rather than being happy about what I do have, all I could do was focus on how jealous I was that I don't have those things. I kept homing in on the things others had that I wanted too.

I see now, in retrospect that I really wasn't using the  DBT skill PARTICIPATE, which is vital when practising mindfulness. It is a 'WHAT' skill which allows you to benefit wholly from the experience and enter into your experiences whole-heartedly. When you participate you let yourself get involved in the moment, letting go of ruminating and self-consciousness. 

Participating is entering wholly into an activity, becoming one with the activity. It is throwing yourself into something completely. It is spontaneous behaviour to a certain extent, although you can also do it mindfully. (dbtselfhelp.com)

This lack of mindfulnesses led to me clinging on to my emotions and carrying them around for the rest of the day. It tainted everything I did that day. I was short and gruff with people who did not deserve that and I was mean and harsh towards myself in my thoughts and behaviours.

I cooked a chicken and broccoli bake that night with the intention of cooking enough for leftovers for the following day, but I let my emotions take control and ended up eating twice as much as I needed. I gorged myself, making myself feel ill as if I was punishing myself. I didn't even enjoy it at all and on top of that didn't have any left overs.

At weigh in today I was expecting a gain. I even cheated by taking my jumper off and wearing really light shoes in the hopes I would at least stay the same. So I was really pleasantly surprised when the scales showed a two pound loss. 

In reflection, it hadn't been that bad a week (except for Tuesday). I had cooked really well all week, had upped my protein intake, had stayed clear of alcohol, only had one takeaway and began walking more in an attempt to prepare myself for an increase in activity. Those are all huge achievements for me. A mere three weeks ago I wasn't doing any of that, eating numerous takeaways a week and  not at all aware of my daily food intake.

I'm in my third week now and am 3.5lbs down, but its not just the number on the scale I am happy about. My energy levels are up and I'm sleeping better. My binges are less and hence I don't feel so bloated. My digestive health has improved drastically too! No more tummy cramps and bunged up sensations (Sorry for the TMI!) I haven't noticed a major difference in my clothes yet, but the reduction in bloating is helping my day to day comfort.

This week in my Weight Watchers meeting the talk topic was 'Exercise and how it affects mood'. I totally agree with this but rarely find the motivation to go get active, yet I KNOW that when I do I ALWAYS feel good after. This is part of the EMOTION REGULATION module in DBT. PLEASE is so important for keeping my emotions in check and exercise is the one particular part I have been neglecting. We talked about finding an activity that we find enjoyable and fun. Those of you who have been here a while know that I used to be an avid dancer, so my mind went straight back to the fun I had in a dance class. Ballet isn't really an option for me right now, but I have tried Zumba before and therefore I made a commitment to my WW leader to go back to it. 

The Gods must be looking after me, money is really really tight and the €10 cost of weekly Weight Watcher meetings is about all I can afford right now on top of the expensive healthy food I'm buying and my rent each week. I can't afford a gym membership or expensive exercise classes. Luckily, I found an online coupon for 6 Zumba classes for €17! And its in the city centre and on my bus route. It's perfect, and I couldn't be happier with such a great deal! I'm starting next Monday evening. Can't wait to tell you how it goes.

Here's this weeks chart, hopefully the green line will keep inching towards my goal weight!

Stay Mindful. xxx

Lying as a way of avoiding distress.

Masking the truth

This is a topic I find quite painful to discuss. It brings up a lot of shame, leaving me feeling as if I tumbled naked out of a warm bed into a cold room and there was no time to cover up before a crowd arrives to view my embarrassment. Yet, I feel it's important to talk about this. After doing a good deal of reading on shame recently, I see how confronting it head on seems to be the only way to dissipate it fully. 

I must have been about four years old, when my nursery school teacher turned to my mother with a furrowed brow, a concerned tone and said something along the lines of ... "Some children lie, maybe to get out of trouble or to play 'make believe'.... that's harmless and can be corrected as the child grows older, learning it's not nice to be dishonest. But your little one's fibs are troubling. She truly believes her made up fantasies are real. I don't think she sees the difference between reality and fantasy."

When I was in second class in primary school (8 years old) I told my teacher and friends at the time that my Mum was expecting another baby with my Dad. My parents had been separated since I was four, it was a messy break-up, with lots of anger, manipulation and public arguments.  So you can imagine my Mother''s surprise when she came to pick me up and the other Mum's were congratulating her on her pregnancy and recent rekindling of her marriage. Looking back now, I think I did it to try and solve the problem. If I told enough people I had a happy family, then maybe it would come true. I remember fully believing what I was saying was real. This particular lie had a horrible outcome, it was of course found out and I was humiliated by having to publicly apologise and recant the lie to all my classmates. It not only filled my heart with shame, but compounded the reality of my distress of living within a fragmented family.

Another example is a bit more recent. I don't tend to tell people I had to leave my university course because of illness, I mince the truth, I brush it off, say I did finish and quickly change the topic. There are sooo many other examples, but I don't feel able to disclose them just yet. but I can allow you a glimpse at some conclusions I have come to about my lies.

I lied to avoid the distress and the chaos in my life. However, the truth can and does emerge at times which leads to more chaos in an attempt to avoid the past and the destruction that always follows. I can understand why so many family members and friends started to distance themselves from the me. This then started the cycle of avoidance and low esteem. The feeling of abandonment and the lies. No one likes to admit to making mistakes or "wrong calls".

It was about control with me. When my life was so out of control, I could have a little through lying. Sometimes it was to avoid conflict. I couldn't stand anyone being mad at me. I often find myself lying simply because I can't stand one more moment of my real life. Sometimes the lies are of how I wished things were or happened instead of what the real situation is.

When I am really distressed I can't tell the difference between lying and telling the truth because I say what I think people want to hear. I don't tell whoppers as I am too terrified of being rejected if I am found out - but I fudge, exaggerate, deny things and change my facts all the time. I only just discovered this as I have been lying to myself for so long too about this! It's really hard to realize and admit that lying comes so naturally to me that I don't even notice I'm doing it. I would characterise it against the DSM criterion 'frantic attempts to avoid real or imagined abandonment' - I would say my pathological lying is part of my ongoing attempt through frantic 'relationship management' to make others happy and therefore unlikely to reject me.

People with BPD often experience deep and entrenched shame; lying may be one way to conceal mistakes or weaknesses that increase shameful feelings. People with BPD are often also very sensitive to rejection, so one function of lying could be to “cover up” mistakes, so that others will not reject them.

I think I lie lie as a means of protecting myself from rejection or a survival technique, and it did seem that a good deal of my lying was some kind of defence mechanism to avoid any intense feelings of failure and self-loathing.

Given that a BPD hallmark is interpersonal relationships that alternate between idealization and devaluation, the person with BPD may distort facts aimed at the person with whom they desire a personal relationship. … In the moment, their desired objective, whatever that may be, takes such precedence over speaking the truth or behaving honestly that the potential consequences of their conduct are reduced to shadowy details.”

Sometimes we may judge ourselves harshly and expect others to do the same. Lying serves to deflect shame when something might make us look bad, thereby maintaining whatever self-esteem we have on a temporary basis. … We believe that anything ‘bad’ would make others reject them. … Lies may mask real feelings and put up an impressive façade. Lies may help make sense of why things happen to us in our mixed-up identity.

In other words, some of us with BPD lie to avoid abandonment or to avoid self-hatred.

What are your experiences with lying and the presumption of lying?

Battling With Self Hatred

It is far from easy to change my time-honored abhorrence to myself. When asked to choose three words to describe myself it would always have been a hateful expression of self disclosure. Mistake, awkward and failure would be ones that would instantly spring to mind.. Self-negativity just comes more natural to me than self-kindness. I can’t tell you an exact time when my thinking began to deviate towards such a spiteful disgust for all that is me, but I can honestly say I don’t have childhood memories where I ever looked at myself with compassion or kindness or self validation. 

So, now that it comes to using the DBT skill of SELF SOOTHE and ACCUMULATE POSITIVE EXPERIENCES I shudder at the thought of doing something for me, only for me. The only way I can describe it is; it’s like trying to be kind and professional to a really nasty customer in a shop. All you want to do is clobber them. You are forced to be nice to them through gritted teeth because you are obliged to, and because the security cameras would capture your every move! 

That is how I feel today. It’s been a rough few weeks since finished the skills group. I feel so despondent and isolated from the only thing that gave me some sort of a life. My mood has been near to the ground and I have been clinging on to every resource and skill base I can access to keep my emotional boat afloat. 

I strained myself to do something nice for myself today. I went and got a massage. I did enjoy it, but found my automatic negative thoughts overtaking any pleasure that was coming through my senses. I was so worried about taking my clothes off, as I have put on a considerable amount of weight since stopping the disordered eating behaviours. For so long I punished my body physically with food and exercise, I ravaged my muscles and bones and skin. So today, when the therapist’s warm hands glided over my body and caressed each part so tenderly, it felt unnatural and wrong. The juxtaposition created by the comforting touch and the undeserving thoughts was too much to contend with. I found it hard to settle into the hour and really relax. Instead my mind was racing with spiteful digs of unworthiness and unpleasant sensations of guilt. 

I guess I can say I was at least WILLING to use DBT skills today, but this one created a worrisome chain of thoughts which I did not intend.

NON JUDGMENTAL STANCE

Today we finished INTERPERSONAL EFFECTIVENESS and moved onto MINDFULNESS in skills group. Now that I have gained back some motivation to partake in DBT, I feel disappointed that I missed so much of the DEARMAN, GIVE, and FAST skills. I get now why the modules are repeated at least twice and am slowly coming around to being told I must repeat the skills group again next year. So my guilt, although still there, has dissipated somewhat.

This weeks homework is to focus on being NON JUDGEMENTAL. It’s a toughie for me so, is a good one to re-visit (or should I say visit, as I have yet to master it!) It was suggested that I get a tally counter. Which is one of them clickity yokes to count how many times you notice a judgement and learn to associate the ‘click’ with it. So tomorrow I am going on a city wide hunt for one!

A place where I think I will be able to practise this skill is at the Ball I am going to this Saturday night. I will be getting all dolled up and be in the company of beautiful and highly intelligent people (It’s the annual Medical Ball!), so as you can imagine…. I am shivering with nerves already. My challenge is to go and simply notice all the judgements I have about myself, other people and the environment. 

All-though unless I can find a counter to match my gown, I might leave it at home that night!

Wish me luck!

Emotional reactions in BPD

What are the hard and fast rules of dealing with emotional turmoil? Please. Please! Someone give me the magic cure-all, the answer, or at least a hint. It’s defeating having to pull myself out of the horned brambles every time I crash down where others merely trip, stumble and get on with their day.

I have come across a greatly validating Blog of late written by a very talented and truly compassionate therapist; Karyn Hall. She is the founder of the Dialectical Behavior Therapy Center in Houston and writes for Psych Central Blogs. Her Blog, The Emotionally Sensitive Person is a wonderfully corroborate part of the web for anyone suffering with intense emotions. While reading a recent post of hers I realized that I live in a world filled with heightened emotional responses to everyday life and as of yet I am totally at their peril. I am afraid of my emotions.

This is what I find hardest about my disorder. Everything affects me to extremes, and the extremes are where my ‘crazy’ comes out. Yes, I am that girl who falls hard and fast for the boy who is nice to her just once, the girl who takes the contrastive criticism to heart, the one who fails to see the room for improvement and thinks she has failed completely when she doesn’t achieve a perfect score on a test, she lets her sadness pour over the good things in life.

My heart breaks when I see a homeless person and I say a little prayer that their luck will turn around someday and they won’t have to live in the cold anymore. My eyes fill with tears at the pictures of sick children in third world countries. I am rattled with guilt that I am on social welfare when there are others out there who have not had such a fortunate life as me. I am ashamed that there are cancer patients dying, not out of choice, who would give anything for just one more year of life, while I spend an unhealthy amount of time planning and researching my own suicide. I am guilty as hell about the loss of my twin babies during pregnancy due to my illness, while other women would give their left arm for the opportunity I had and let slip away because of my eating disorder.

I got upset today; I had to gulp back big overwhelming silent sobs because of the guilt I felt as I walked past a shivering homeless man on the way to Starbucks. It put my problems in perspective; at least I have a warm bed at night, and the ability to provide for myself a safe environment in which to live.

Panicked and afraid

I came out of my one to one therapy session yesterday feeling utterly ashamed of myself. I am a fraud, a fake, an undistinguished manipulator, who's sole aim is to gain attention and pity from those who are only trying to help me. I can't cope with life. My miserable and  shameful life. I have no clue who I am, and the scary thing is that don't think I want to find out. I am terrified that when I find out who I am, I won't like the real me.

It's better to be unwell, and use that excuse to explain my horrible personality than to accept that ultimately this may be who I am and that I choose to behave the way I do. I am so afraid of myself.

I found myself calling a suicide hotline last night and wondering if I would ever have the courage to go through with it, but I am too weak. That is the conclusion I came to, that my drive is there, but I am to scared to really go through with it. Its like a marathon runner who has trained for their entire life for a big race. The have the ability and the drive to run, but the day before they break their foot and can't go through with it because they physically can't.

Today I panicked again. I need answers to the hazy questions circulating in my mind. I didn't go to work and instead festered in bed with my unwashed thoughts.  I don't care about anything. I didn't even pick up my social welfare payment this week. I am back to thinking about starvation and attention seeking.

I called my Doctors office not to long ago knowing full well that my therapist was out of the office today and couldn't call me back. Now I am waiting for a call back from some randomer and I have no clue what to tell them about why I called. All I know is that my insides are screaming in silent agony with confusion and guilt and that I am terrified of myself.

Why did I call? It was an instinctual reaction to the emotional pain. My head wants me to be devious and secretive yet also wants to let others know when I am hurting too. As if by sharing the hurt that it will somehow soften it and justify its reality. But the instant I open my mouth it won't let me explain it in a way that gets me any help.

Oh I am not making much sense I know, and I am also well aware that this blog has taken a radical turn from recovery to something much more dark and disturbing and I really am sorry about that.

Just off the phone with the on-call doctor there. He was nice, but detached and was reading my notes as we spoke. We agreed that I must put in place my distress tolerance skills and reminded me that these feelings rarely last... so in the words of Marsha.... I must ride the wave of the emotion.... I fucking hate surfing. Could never stand up on the board and always got thrown off into the white thunderous water. But she tends to be more wise than me when I am feeling like this so I'm off to self soothe in a hot shower and wash away the dirt of my anxiety, then I will paint my nails and paint a half smile on my face in order to ride out this period.