Toughing It Out

Cate

Click to read Cate’s bio

From where I was seated, it seemed that no one cried at my father’s funeral.   It seemed to me that it was stoicism all the way.  Most of them were pretty good at it.  My 12-year-old nephew was looking a bit shaky for a while, parents wondering whether he would ‘make it’ to be part of the party to walk the casket it out.  And I can tell you that I was definitely shaky.  I was all but crying, but everyone was so stone-faced that I was determined that I wouldn’t ‘fall apart’. Continue reading

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Explanations And Understanding

RubyI have stuck my feet back into the vast ocean of blogging.  All the way up to the ankles, though the waves seem to be hitting mid-calf more and more.

When I announced my blogging hiatus, I made it complete.  I had already begun a bit on a hiatus from all personal social media.  At least that’s what I intended it to be.  In fact, I’ve decided not to reactivate my fb account, not even a little.  I’m both happier and healthier without it.

But that leaves me with a massive dilemma, bigger in every way than the one I recently wrote about. Continue reading

Lines and Colours

SailorIn my mind, I am normal. This is because I live with me twenty-four seven (OK, not always twenty-four seven because some of those hours I am asleep).

I have BPD. In the past, I never realised that I feel emotions more easily, more deeply, and for longer than others do. I thought the intensity of my emotions was normal. Turns out, it’s not. I read somewhere that in non-BPD people an emotion typically fires for 12 seconds. In BPD’ers it can last up to 20 percent longer. BPD’ers emotions also repeatedly re-fire, or re-live, or recur, however you want to say it, so emotional reactions occur for even longer. I do. I go over and over and over the emotions, pinging from one to another like a steel ball in a pinball machine. Continue reading

On This Day

AngelBirthdays are often triggering affairs for me, and, from what I’ve read on others’ blogs, I’m not alone.

My life is littered with many unfortunate birthdays. When I was a child, I had the obligatory sorts of parties. There were play places. A skating rink, even though I could barely skate (and I can’t skate now), so I hugged the wall.

These were awkward affairs. None of the people there were really my friends–just classmates. Continue reading

Back in hospital

the qiuet borderline* Talk of self-harm and suicide *

So here I am, I’ve been back in the hospital for just under two weeks.

The BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder), depression, insomnia and anxiety is extremely venemous. I can’t start to explain the turmoil I am going through. The constant death wishes, then the wanting to live moments. I am all over the place. Continue reading

So The Things Is, About Triggers –

AlwaysAny of you reading this possessing a basic grasp of the English language understand the meaning of the word “trigger.”  Like the mechanism with the same name on a gun, when you a hit a trigger with someone you will cause a reaction in them.  It may be major or it may be minor, it may make sense and it may not, you may bear the full force of it, or you may never even be the wiser. Continue reading