Okay, where was I last week? Oh yeah, that revelation about yet another diagnosis I hadn’t been educated on.
The emotional instability this evaluation discussed, I couldn’t even believe it. It had been desperately staring me in the face all along. This was here trying to let me know that my rapid mood shifts that happened multiple times each day, every day, was something bigger than my very well known anxiety I had so much previous focus on. I was always just left knowing I had these certain traits that I never got any validation for. I mean I had always known that Bipolar was never my diagnosis, despite being swayed in that direction many times by a small few of likely lazy psychiatrists who didn’t take the time to properly evaluate me.
That term “Bipolar” would always get thrown around when I would talk about my mood instability. Friends would make jokes and professionals would make quick assumptions, but the truth is, I never experienced the textbook outline for bipolar. For me there was never extended periods of time spent in a “high” or “low” overall mood. I do however experience many mini shifts that happen multiple times over the course of the day, usually every day. I suppose I can see how someone untrained might see this as being similar, but I honestly question the education of some of the professionals who were quick to chalk it up to this. It is okay though because like I said, I always knew this was not me. Not that there is anything wrong with bipolar itself, I just knew it didn’t fit me.
So now freshly looking into BPD, it started to explain certain behavior that I hadn’t found a connection to before. I have always had this completely terrorizing feeling when I believe that I am being rejected or abandoned in any way. I get these extreme bouts of high stress paranoia. I go from being absolutely and perfectly happy to in a literal fucking second, needing to let out the most heart wrenching sob I can produce. My emotions are debilitating, I don’t just feel them as simply as those around me do. I am either yes or no, but somehow always still stuck in maybe. It is terrifying to be so unsure of yourself. “Am I making this all up? Is this real or am I just so damaged that this is the only way I know how to act? Who would I even be if I wasn’t this way?” Oh shit, here comes the doom. That incredibly intense sensation that my life itself is surely about to end, or even worse, my husbands life or one of our kids. Annnnd now I’ve managed to become sick to my stomach…
These redundant thoughts, fears, and terrors… I feel these things, all over my body. I feel myself sinking, my heart stopping for seconds on end, my face going numb as I pull away from reality and the panic tries to set in. This physical tension in my chest, my shoulders, my neck, my jaw. It just doesn’t go away. Right when I think it might let up, my body sees that as a threat and it in turn causes a jolt, bringing back that same tension just as it was on its way out the door.
Oh and okay, speaking of paranoia. Man I swear, sometimes, I haven’t a paranoid thought in my mind. But other times…
“I have been poisoned and that is why I am losing my mind.” Geez, why I can’t get a grip on reality with that one?
I can’t even push the hatch down on the gas pump to let the gas flow automatically, I have to manually hold it, otherwise I am certain that it will not pump the same amount of gas.
A car pulls up next to me, and a shiver runs throughout my body. I cannot help but to physically duck and internally squeal because I am without a doubt positive that someone is about to shoot me. So many times I get this uneasy feeling.
Holding my children’s hands (who are both near my height) too tightly, any and everywhere because they will surely be taken and hurt, or trafficked like I was, or worse. *insert more unwanted thoughts and imagery here*
To Be Continued…