Mood: Anxious
Trigger: Coronavirus panic. Mother still going to work and taking public transport despite her older age.
Actions: Blog about feelings, and stop reading the fucking news.
I fell off the wagon. I stopped going to therapy, stopped healthy eating and kept binging on shit food again, got ridiculously drunk and said some awful things to people that I will never be able to take back, stopped blogging my feelings, and sabotaged myself from being accepted into an intensive potentially life changing 6 month therapy course. How did I fall so hard when I was making such massive progress? I had a minor setback.
I took the bus for the first time in years, I attended my regular therapy meeting, and I went to the library to treat myself to a new book. While I was out my puppy managed to get hold of a packet of Fiance’s ProPlus tablets, When I got home and saw the carnage, I paused for a few minutes. I sat on the couch and did nothing. I think I was paralysed with fear, I’m not sure. Once I came back to myself, I called Fiance to report what had happened, and obsessively Googled if dogs can survive an overdose of caffeine tablets. Long story short: I had to rush puppy to the vets, where they told me it was unlikely that he would survive. Puppy was given shots and kept under observation for half the day. When they took puppy away for observation I felt lost and intensively out of control. I had all the major feelings of fear, anxiety, loss, and general out of controlness.
It was an incredibly dark day with lots of intensively dark feelings. In the end I am pleased to report that puppy DID SURVIVE, and suffered no neurological effects! He is healthy and okay! But despite his good health, I still found myself confined to that dark place. It’s been two months since puppy’s accident, and I still cant leave the house. No therapy, no healthy eating, no socialising, nothing. My life is a mess again. I have ended up in this same dark place time and time again, so much so that it feels comforting to be back. At this moment in time I like being alone, I like not leaving the house, and I like not having to talk to my friends. I’m not sure if these are my feelings, or if its just a mind trick of my BPD. Despite this, I know that I will get myself out of this bad place. I am resilient, I am a fighter. I have dug myself out of this dark place before, and I WILL do it again. This is something I can count on.
