[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.
Tagged as:
BPD,
perfectionism,
relationships,
therapy
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 the world we head, relatively unscathed.
Other times it drags us in deeper, I’m thrown in by a slight rejection or miscommunication. And I’ll stay there a little too long. Long enough to start forgetting how to get out of it on my own steam. And forgetting that it’s worthwhile fighting my way out.
There are side doors in this dark place, out into little rooms of light. But you’re only allowed to stay there for a limited time, then they switch off the lights and put you back in the dark place. These little side rooms of distraction are just that – distractions. Reminders of why you want to get out of the hole, but not the way out. That is a long journey, best done with some hands to help pull you over those rough patches, the parts where you slip and fall back a little into the hole. two steps forward, and 1 or 3 back.
A little bit like the fall in the Labrynth, except some of the helping hands are holding razor blades.
But I’m going to try to fight. Even though I’m not a great climber, and get fooled by the distractions.
I’m going to try.
Tagged as:
BPD,
depression,
self-harm,
support,
therapy
