BPD Archives - the little lioness

BPD

The appointment this morning was stressful, but because of the whole having to meet a new person and trying to understand what was going to happen next.

I’m with a Disability Employment Services provider which means they can help me in more tangible ways than the regular Job Services Australia people could – especially since I was a “level 1″ who was supposedly quite capable of doing it all myself.

So, I have a new contact there, we spent an hour going through my history and what made me flake out at my old jobs, and thinking about what sort of work I want to get into, both short term (this year) and longer term. I have to mull over whether SP is what I want to get back into or not, and related fields that might suit me better now and in the future. I totally know that I still want to work in some sort of disability related field, but what and with who is not certain. I said flat out no to hospitality, though :p If i was stress, I wanna get paid well for it!!

I no longer have to make 10 contacts a fortnight about potential jobs, nor do I have to take that list into Centrelink at their whim. I still have to go to Centrelink now and then to prove that I’m alive or something, and tick the boxes online. They put me as capable of 15 hours work a week for now.

Oh and I also get pharmaceutical allowance and a pension card with my Newstart. Rich, baby!

No front desk just a video phone to call them to let them know your here
No front desk just a video phone to call them to let them know your here. There were three seats, so it is also the waiting room area…

Yeah, the entrance to the office was weird, impersonal, and totally crap for people with phone phobias! Fortunately that wasn’t me, but it did add to my already heightened level of anxiety and confusion when I wasn’t able to immediately be reassured that I was in the right place at the right time and I wasn’t just imagining things.

So, I think I’ve FINALLY calmed down from it, let’s see how this all goes – I go back on the 30th.

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sparkly purple bunny ears
What i got for me from Daiso while shopping for Maree’s prize :)

So, after Easter, I get to go and have a “job capacity assessment”.

This will apparently tell sennalink what support I need in order to find a job. Or something.

It means to me that I get to say yes, I feel like mt mental health and subsequent incompetence are leaving me unemployed.

And that they then get to put me through “job readiness” courses and placements.

plus get to note my “black marks” against me.

and tell me I’m not bad off enough to really need help.

I DO want to work. I’d rather be able to convince someone I can do work I have experience in. Doesn’t have to be speech. There’s a whole heap of disability and youth support I have the skills to do, but not the confidence, references or the, yes again, CONFIDENCE, to get into.

So we’ll see. I’m slightly scared to ask for reports from my healthcare team, too. I know it’s for the best, but I don’t want it on paper!!!!

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unikitty1busniess

unikitty2numbers

unikitty3working

unikitty4yay

Emmet: I’m just gonna come right out, I have no idea what’s going on or what this place is at all.
Unikitty: Hi! I am Princess Unikitty, and I welcome you all to Cloud Cuckoo Land!
Emmet: So there are no signs on anything. How does anyone know what not to do?
Unikitty: Here in Cloud Cuckoo Land, there are no rules: There’s no government, no baby sitters, no bedtimes, no frowny faces, no bushy mustaches, and no negativity of any kind.
Lucy: You just said the word “no” like a thousand times.
Unikitty: And there’s also no consistency.

UniKitty has BPD.

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image

Today I’m guest posting (rather rawly) over at Nightwolf’s Den about how my head and heart fight against me.

Hope you like xx

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Giving you an out

May 18, 2013 · 10 comments

I phrase my question to lead you to a certain response….

Instead of “What time will I see you tonight?”

I go with

“Are you still feeling up to tonight?”

Just a slight difference.

Leading you down the path of the rejection I’m waiting for.

I get the answer I expect.

“I don’t think I’d be up there until late, maybe we’ll give it a miss this time?”

Rejection confirmed.

Ok. Panic time. Turn this around…

“I’ll come to you? I just want to see you, I don’t mind driving, even if it’s just to fall asleep next to you”

Something that you can’t really say no to.

So that I get my expected rejection.

But frantically turn it around.

Is this manipulation?

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[3:13:37 PM] Fiona Moore: Today the theme seemed to be ways I wanna be perfect but feel that I am doomed to failure
[3:18:31 PM] Fiona Moore: \o/
[3:19:46 PM] Fiona Moore: Scrap wanna. Need to ve perfect. Feeel compelled :/

it would be one thing if that simply applied to one area of life – say just work, or fitness, or organising my cd collection. But when it spans all those things and more, spills into controlling how you form, maintain, and freak out about all relationships, it starts to be a little bit of a problem.

When you breathe a sigh of relief after a breakup, not because you’re not frantically missing that person and their role in your life, but because that’s one role you don’t have to play and get right for awhile. That doesn’t place pressure on your every move, your every word.

There are so many other roles swirling around, begging to be perfected, friend, sister, daughter, playmate, employee, flatmate, colleague, speechie.

No wonder I feel paralysed.

Maybe it would help if I just knew who Fiona was first.

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I talk about the meltdown I had Sunday morning when she was gone when I woke up.

Immediately I panic, running through the evening’s events. Had I done something to piss her off? Did I hit on her inappropriately after our conversation about not doing that? Did I make some snarky comment after a couple of shared bottles of wine that one regrets come morning? What did I doooooooo?

I start crying and ringing her mobile, and land line, desperate for a response.

No answer, messages left. Texts and pms sent.

I retreat into my panic. Frozen.

Replaying the evening. No I did noting wrong, but then why did I feel so fearful? So desperate?

Why was I retreating into myself, trying to shut off the world, while trying to stay a part of it.

Just enough to regret, not to be noticeably more than before.

I get a message back.

She’d gone home to sleep. Of course. So sensible a response.

Missing xanax, I take my missed seroquel from the night before, and some panadol for good measure.

And sleep til noon.

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May 7, 2013 · 9 comments

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So I can see myself as the girl who apparently has it together according to family and friends, but really doesn’t have a clue what to do next.

Putting on the costume each day, to head to work, or school, or out with a group.

To play the role I’m meant to play. The friend, the sister, the daughter, the girlfriend, the lover.

The speech therapist.

The dorky catgirl.

What do you want me to be?

Tell me.

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