The Raging River of Emotion

My intricate network of defective nerves carrying the equally faulty transmitters must have decided to jolt its self back into action today. I sat for a while in the chilly spring sunshine before my weekly ‘me-time’. It really is such a delight to have a whole hour where I can simply talk about me, and I know that my therapist will give me her full, exclusive attention. That sounds conceited, I know, but I don’t care. I have spent too long neglecting my own turbulent mind.  I thought about how privileged I really am while I sat on an ugly and uncomfortable plastic bench outside the treatment centre. ‘I have someone who gives me time to talk and helps me to become a better person; I have a confidant, a sounding board.’ Then it struck me; ‘I have never given myself so freely and truthfully to anyone before and I have never felt such empathy from another human being in my life.’ It feels peculiar, both excellent and shocking at the same time, for I feel extraordinarily exposed and vulnerable having another person on this earth know my secrets, yet relieved that I don’t have to bear the weight of them alone anymore.

We have an idiosyncratic relationship, in so far as I would never choose to disclose such prized and feared confidences to this woman if I knew her casually. To be honest I don’t know if before DBT I would have been able to tolerate her mannerisms. She is quirky and a bit disorganized. Actually she reminds me of my mother; extremely caring yet frustratingly scatty. I got the feeling that I also annoyed her (but of course that could be BPD thinking!). She seemed to resent how little progress I was making despite how well read up I was on the DBT material.

Before we had even met last summer, I had read Marsha’s Training Manual, and shimmed her major body of work: Cognitive-Behavioral Treatment of Borderline Personality Disorder. 1993. I am an intelligent woman when I want to be, and I like to be primed and set to tackle a problem when I feel able. I am always able to read. So for the year between getting my diagnosis and accessing the right treatment to treat it, I read everything I could get my arduous little eyes on. I spent hours scouring the internet for reliable sources of information and weaving together the best comprehension I could grasp outside of a Clinical Psychology Doctorate. Luckily I still had my University student library admittance which afforded me full access online to both the British and American Medical Journals. I also had a good grounding in mental health from my years studying Occupational Therapy.

Now all that stood before me was to somehow turn my culvert of knowledge into tangible skills. And annoyingly, I couldn’t do it alone. She was the bridge I needed (but didn’t want to have to rely on) to pass over the violent river safely. Battling the raging currents of emotion alone was not working anymore, but I couldn’t see that. I fought for weeks not only against my emotions, but against this woman who said she knew a better way across and wanted to help me get there. I didn’t believe her. She couldn’t understand my internal conflict, no-one could.

At first I thought she came across patronizing, one of the many things which annoy me about her. Yet, as the weeks wore on, I realized she was merely reciting little Marsha-isims. “How can you create a life worth living, if you are not willing to participate in the therapy?” And every time I would be self critical or chastise myself for my transgressions, she would pipe up and bluntly cut across me; “That’s a judgment!!!” So for a while I stopped talking, I stopped telling her anything and I continued down my white watered river of destruction!

Now that I am a few months down the watercourse, the rapids are less frequent and some tributaries of support have joined my journey towards the sea of recovery. The emotions are still there as is the water in the river, but I have more energy to swim back and survey the journey as the intensity of the emotions have subsided and the volume of support has grown.

Even though we still don’t always see eye to eye, I am now at peace with my therapist and the service as a whole. I can see how far I have come, and how far I still have to go, but like the river, it only really flows in one direction… towards the sea. I guess my route has simply taken a small meander along that path. 

Objective Self Compassion

So, after spending time in the south of Ireland with my sister (and the baby bump!) and brother-in-law, where my Mother lives with her new husband and his daughter, I am pleasantly relived. I was really worried about spending so much time with my family, as previous comparable experiences have resulted in vexing squabbles and quarrels. I understand now that my sensitive and highly emotive character can be very vulnerable to the criticisms and teasing which occurs within my family unit. Simply OBSERVING this helped me to muddle through the weekend. It also helped me to take a NON JUDGMENTAL STANCE towards myself, something which, until recently I have found incredibly difficult to do. Self compassion just was not something that I was able to accomplish before. A constant record was stuck on self hate in my mind. I believed that I was not deserving of compassion and was not allowed to give it to myself. One of the greatest lessons I am learning in therapy is the gift of self compassion. I am starting to treat myself as I would like to be treated by others, and also how I treat those around me, as I have a great ability to be compassionate to others, but am terrible when it comes to being kind to myself. 

I had so much time to think between the car journeys and early nights with little to do in the countryside. I astounded myself with a realization of how far I have really come in the last year. It hit me that it has been a year since I last attempted to end my life. Which when compared to the year before, is really an achievement. The reason I say this is because the accomplishment lays not just in the absence of suicidal actions, but the ability to now deal with and manage the same feelings and urges (which are still at the same intensity as before) with new, healthier coping mechanisms. I can truly say that I am proud of myself. 

This last week has been a real eye opener for me. I have had huge swings of intense emotions along with some really dangerous action urges. Instead of carrying though with the urge to end my life, I reached out for help, and most importantly; accepted the help I received. Of course it took a while for me to get my head around the acceptance part of this process, as you can tell from the posts on this blog from earlier in the week!!! 

I have an open mind about the upcoming admission. I really think it will help me figure out some of my current problems. I will hopefully have a good team of people around me to keep me regulated. And I also have this wonderful outlet, my own form of personal form of therapy. My blog is another gift I received this past year. Writing is the best way for me to find objectivity during difficult situations, where due to my intense emotions my judgement is often compromised. 

I am so grateful for all my readers too, as you always offer such sound feedback, and often make suggestions which have helped me to act in more efficient ways with more successful outcomes.

One Thousand Paper Cranes

Paper Crane!

I want to do something positive for my recovery, something which does not involve therapy, or food diaries or skills group. I need something more holistic, more spiritual and meditative. I need a project and I need a wish.

An old Japanese legend said that anyone who folds a thousand paper cranes so pleases the gods, the folder is granted a wish.  The well known story is Sadako and her 1,000 paper cranes.

Sadako Sasaki (January 7, 1943 – October 25, 1955) was a Japanese girl who lived near Hiroshima, Japan. She was only two years old when the atom bomb was dropped on Hiroshima on August 6, 1945.  As she grew up, Sadako was a strong, courageous and athletic girl. In 1954, at age eleven, she became dizzy and fell to the ground. Sadako was diagnosed with leukemia, the "atom bomb disease".

Sadako's best friend Chizuko, came to visit her and brought with her some origami (folding paper). She told Sadako the legend of the crane. It is Japanese legend that folding 1000 paper cranes (senzaburu) so pleases the gods that the folder is granted a wish. Sadako wished to get well. So, after hearing the legend, Sadako decided to fold 1,000 cranes.

After she folded 500 cranes she felt better and the doctors said she could go home for a short time, but by the end of the first week back home the dizziness and fatigue returned and she had to return to the hospital. 

Sadako continued to fold cranes. Even though she was in great pain, she tried to be cheerful and hopeful. Not long afterwards, with her family standing by her bed, Sadako went to sleep peacefully, never to wake up again. She had folded a total of 644 paper cranes.

Sadako's story had a profound impact on her friends and classmates. They completed her thousand cranes and continued to raise money from school children all over Japan to build a statue to honor Sadako and all the children affected by the bomb.

This is my project, my ambition. Wish me luck friends.

ACCEPTING the importance of MINDFULNESS

This has been a good week. I am feeling more 'me' again. Its not that the black cloud has gone away, its just I feel like I am better able to cope with the next storm life throws at me. Almost like I am prepared to fight now, posed and ready with my armor of skills and SELF-COMPASSION.

I returned to a meditation class on Tuesday and Thursday evening and it was simply wonderful. It was inspiring to listen to others stories of how meditation helps them in their daily lives. The inner peace they radiate really is infectious. I truly get the importance of MINDFULNESS in DBT this week.

When emotions wreak havoc, it helps to “get it out” — ranting to a therapist, friend or partner, or writing about your feelings in a diary, or blog like this one. Sitting down on a cushion to meditate is seemingly the polar opposite of this catharsis. But could it be that the two approaches are helpful for similar reasons?

Talking or writing about your feelings forces you to call them something. And one technique taught in mindfulness is naming your emotions. It’s part of noticing and detaching from those emotions vs. letting them hijack your bliss. I like to imagine it as 'the mindfulness wedge.” It’s about developing that pause button,' so you can observe emotions from the outside.

The main focus of DBT for me is gaining control over my emotions and it is now known that simply labeling my emotion promotes detachment, providing a stop-gap and the opportunity to choose of a healthier coping mechanism.

It’s very challenging to bring what you practice on the meditation cushion out in a real-life situation, when you’re actually in that moment — say someone is yelling at you — you have to remember to step back, say, ‘Oh, that’s anger I’m feeling,' and change what you do with that emotion, all in a millisecond. It takes a lot of practice. To help with this, I try to extend my meditation to everyday activities like going for a walk, having a shower, or drinking my morning coffee.

Often when you feel something, you don’t acknowledge it, and by avoiding that feeling, you perpetuate greater pain. Meditation helps me realize that I create my own feelings. If I’m in a state of frustration and I stop and observe it, I realize there’s another way to deal with the pain. Acceptance is key to dealing with distress, and it is without a doubt the hardest part of mt therapy, but each journey starts with a single step right!

DEARMAN Success with Therapist

Love this Meme!

Maybe it's the increased dose of Fluoxetine (Prozac), maybe it's not, but whatever the reason I am feeling lighter this week. I am not beleaguered by the familiar and frantic suicidal thoughts, urges, plans. My ability to stay out of trouble is surprising me. I have not binged/purged much this week, even though all the normal triggers are there. The urge is also still there, but I find myself able to resist the need to act on it. 

I had my individual therapy session today after a 2 week gap. It was because my therapist had to cancel one session due to the illness of her child and then was away on training straight after. I was deeply disjointed over  the abrupt phone call from her that day to say she had to postpone our meeting for 14 days. My immediate thoughts were; "She doesn't care about you" "Once again, you are not important" "She is glad to not have to see you" and so on....

I was really super emotional for at least 2 days after and to be honest, have only come back down to an even base level on the topic this week. Hence why I can only really describe it all on this blog now. I got some excellent support from the recovery network online, and was advised to write down how I was feeling. Which I did! 

I used it an an opportunity to practice the INTERPERSONAL EFFECTIVENESS skill DEARMAN. Here's what I wrote:

On Thursday 16th Feb you regrettably had to cancel our therapy session at the last minute due to the unfortunate sickness of your daughter. I felt disappointed that my appointment with you was cancelled. I had put a lot of work into DBT last week, and felt that I really needed to discuss it with you. I was and am very scared that you will be away for training and then away on holiday. I also feel upset in myself that I am so dependent on our session each week.

I understand that you had no other choice but to attend to your daughter who was sick, and wouldn't have wanted you to do anything other than collect her as she was unwell. I guess the reason I feel the need to write to you is that I think a back-up plan might need to be put into place for if/when this happens again as it is not the first time that you have had to cancel our sessions. I also feel that the gaps in therapy are really affecting my ability to sustain a constant motivation for DBT. Yet I totally understand they need to happen sometimes, we all need a holiday! None-the-less I feel very scared knowing that gaps are coming up.

With support to fill in the gaps when you are away I feel that I could continue with the DBT skills rather than feeling alone and unable to cope. Perhaps there is someone I could call within the service when you are unavailable that understands and is able to offer coaching in the skills?

At the moment I feel like I have no concrete support in my day to day life outside of DBT, and although we are working towards me becoming better able to deal with this, and I look forward to the day that I will be able to cope on my own, I am simply not there yet. This is why having these gaps are scaring me so much. I would like to further problem solve this difficulty in our next session.

Kind regards

Many people over the years have told me about the benefits of writing out a letter to someone about a difficult situation, And I always poo-pooed the idea, thinking it was a load of cod-ology. But I take that back. After minutes of writing this, I almost instantly felt a sense of relief, and as I found my self reading over and over it, noticed how nice it was to be compassionate to my emotions, to validate them as real and not react in way that I was ashamed of.

In the end I did not send or even show this letter to my therapist, as I felt much calmer and understanding after having the 2 weeks to evaluate everything. We came to an agreement about how to solve this problem should it ever arise again. I suggested that we E-mail each other, as I am much more comfortable with that then phoning for skills coaching. This way I always feel that I can turn to her for support, even if she can not get back to me straight away.

I am proud of how well I managed the situation, and happy that I now know I have other options rather than flying off the handle and ending up in A&E, just to feel validated. THIS is a BIG step for me. Long may it last!