What exactly do you do when you’ve had the therapy, taken and continue to take the meds, do all the self care you can, apply the coping skills and it still doesn’t prevent these down cycles mixed with cognitive issues from taking you down? My brain is fucking Swiss cheese and I would probably forget to go to the bathroom lately if it weren’t for my colon issues. The holes in my thought processes are worsening… I can remember pieces but not the full picture, words are on the tip of my tongue and do not come to me, my ability to multitask has decreased and my working memory is shot. I can’t get my sentences out and get immensely irritated when people don’t give me a moment to figure out what I’m trying to say. Sounds, light, temperature, the feeling of certain things on my skin make me want to scream. I feel assaulted by normal, ordinary things. I get around this at work by always writing things down and in my daily life by keeping several lists in my iPhone to remind me of this or that. My attention span, focus and ability to concentrate are shot. I don’t feel like “me” unless I’m alone with my thoughts or working on projects in my home. I can’t normally interact with people as of late unless I’m playing a role, such as who I am at work, or how a customer is supposed to act and I find myself withdrawing. Hermiting. My anxiety is at a level it hasn’t been in years and it seems I’m eating my Klonopin like TicTacs.
I’ve had vivid, disturbing dreams for years…I now find myself having vivid, disturbing thoughts and urges I have to shake from my brain and they leave me thinking “where the fuck did that even come from?!” My agitation level is as such that the sound of someone’s fingernails tapping against anything makes me want to lunge and I’ve never, ever been a violent person.
I work 2 jobs, live alone, pay all my bills, make all my own decisions, and am a fairly intelligent, well spoken, creative woman….and I can’t make any of this stop. I rapid cycle almost constantly but this is different. This feels like my brain is sick and becoming sicker… This feels like me digging my nails into what sanity I have and hanging on for dear life…but falling anyway into somewhere I haven’t been in years.
I’m educated enough in my disease to understand that many things going on in my life would drive anyone mad, or into a clinical depression, especially someone with BPD. That logic doesn’t help me however. I feel like I should be able to make this all stop so I can just remain a functional human being, capable of menial shit like going to the grocery store or watching a movie with a friend without it seeming and/or being so daunting and exhausting.
No one in my life knows it’s this bad. No one. It helps nothing when they do and I don’t think anyone could handle the truth anyway, without treating me like I was mentally retarded instead of mentally ill. You can only increase a persons medications so much when they’re employed and I certainly cannot add a medication fog on top of what ever the fuck is happening to my brain right now. A hospital stay really does nothing for some other than over medicate them for a few days, make them feel like they’re surrounded by crazy people (because well…) when they just want to be at home, feel shamed by being there in the first place while sitting in some stupid group therapy circle that helps no one who functions above a High School level and put you so far behind on your bills that you face eviction and cut off notices. Yeah. What a wonderful thing to come home to.
There’s nothing. Not one single fucking thing I can do that I haven’t already done or am not currently doing to help maintain any better. The circumstances surrounding this depressive episode are far from over and haven’t even gotten to their worst. I’m so. Incredibly. Exhausted. With life.