[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.
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.
We all have places, some darker than others, where we are pushed sometimes. Or we retreat to them by choice, as a way to deal with the world. Sometimes entertaining those dark thoughts can make us remember that it’s not actually that bad, at least not always. A little bit of wallowing, and back into [...]
I need a coffee. Fortunately this one from The Spot in Hamilton was really good. So, I’ve started the much awaited therapy program. Two intense individual sessions a week, using the Conversational Model. For 14 months. Meep. The Conversational Model of psychotherapy was devised by the English psychiatrist Robert Hobson, and developed by the Australian [...]
So, my psych has started me on a DBT Diary Card (click to view) to get me tracking how I treat myself, how I feel about it, and any strategies I put in place to stop myself carrying out any urges (such as self harm, drinking etc). Interesting to sit there, only on day one, [...]
You know like lap band? *blinks* OMG some GPs are tactful. It was only AFTER that today that she then goes on to “so the quetiapine can cause an increase in appetite. Do you want to see a dietitian? But you know surgery can help reduce your appetite come back and I can give you [...]
So, Some members of my family went to a workshop on Friday about having “a Borderline” in your family, and about what he world may look like from my point of view, and some safe ways for all involved to help me while not harming themselves. One of the sets of slides I’ve been given [...]
The ambulance comes. But the police arrive first. She panics. WTF are the police doing here? What’s happened? They asked. Nothing. Nothing. I just want to go to the hospital. You’ll go with them Yes. Please, just let me go in the ambulance. Please. Confusion. Panic. Then relief.