Katie's blog on life

Chameleon

I’ll tell you this for nout – I’m a chameleon. Today I woke up, having had enough sleep but maybe still tired from yesterday’s antics. I had gone swimming in the sea and cycled 20 miles to the local major city. It was a beautiful day and the sea is so much my calm place. Maybe the 20 miles on top, in 22 degree centigrade sun was a little too much for me.
I woke up feeling a bit I dunno, okay – not good but not bad either. I had breakfast ( yawn, I am so boring. Sorry haha) and I met up with a few friends. One I had seen a few days before and we had an excellent day just catching up and being ourselves and one whom I hadn’t seen in a while.

I went in with the open mind of having a great time with friends but the energy between us seemed lacking. I found it hard to not chameleon-ise with the one friend who seemed quiet and withdrawn, the one whose conversation didn’t seem to flow. Now, I do understand how we can not always be what we need to be to other people but I find it interesting that I completely fell into that quiet, almost anxious state. Tired and lethargic, unable to hold conversations rather than with my friend whom I saw a few days earlier. I actually got upset and sad. I spoke with them about somethings that maybe I wasn’t ready to say or maybe wasn’t the right space but I did but maybe I didn’t get the response that I wanted or needed and it felt that information was just dropped and not really taken in. Maybe that’s why I then found it hard to converse – maybe I thought fuck it. Maybe I felt misunderstood and not heard.

I was meant to call another friend afterwards, whom I have neglected recently – unsure of how to tell her what’s been going on with life and therapy and almost stopping talking to her because I want it to be good news. I know that isn;t real life though so I have to maybe just jump the gun and try. But with this friend I felt like I had to be in a good mood to speak with her so that you know I don’t seem so pessimistic. But anyway because I felt sad, and tired – the hot run and bath didn’t do much for me, I did not call. I text her and explained and I got the most wonderful response back. She was okay with me taking my time to look after myself, yet I still felt that guilt. The guilt of not calling, of feeling like a bad friend for cancelling the call. She told me to stop saying sorry. And then I said sorry for saying sorry haha.

Having BPD and being an introvert is hard sometimes. I just have to take the day for what it is so right now, I’m chilling out with the TV and a cuppa. I might play some games and not talk to anyone. I think I just need some time to myself, processing this week and what I have in store. Just some chilled time alone to recharge.

Doctor’s appointment

Buzzed in and waiting like a member of the MI5. ” Who are you here to see? ” And so I state whom. Through the next set of doors. Wash your hands here and head to to 3rd floor reception where someone will sign you in again. Up I trundle, the stairs making my forehead sweat under the mask. Not quite able to breathe but doing it cos I have to, we all have to.

Met on the 3rd floor by a lady behind a clear perspex screen who says again, who are you here to see? I’m here to see Dr M I reply. Great, she will be with you soon. You can sit anywhere you like. The room is empty, the radio up a little too loud everything eerie. Crissed-Crossed chairs align the waiting room. There I sit, fingers twitching. She meets me and seems to sign me in. I see Dr M but I do not recognise, she makes a joke but I do not laugh.

Avocado-esque scrubs and hands covered by gloves. Masks covering face so I could only see eyes. Entering the room and sitting not quite 2 meters apart. The door in the way of the chair. Hot breath steaming through my mouth and cotton mask into my glasses. Unable to see but also losing concentration. Foot tapping, computers not working. Emails not sending. 10 minutes passing. Luckily for me Dr M doesn’t stop me. She let’s me talk, knowing me for over 5 years, she knows sometimes I just need to get it out. She lets me talk my feelings out and tells me what I’m thinking is not what she takes as I tell her ” I don’t want another appointment, I don’t deserve it…… you have other patients to see “. “Now let me correct you Katie, you are important and deserve the help like everyone else – it is up to me to help you.”

Sorting out discharges and new support and home support for when I’m away. We talk about Trauma Therapy and how I think I need it before I can do the programme I was doing. She says the local IAPT do EMDR therapy, she says it’s highly recommended for trauma. She says that part of recognising what you need is part of making steps forward but that I almost always self sabotage. I find it hard when things ars going well – which is true. But she knows. I tell her I’ve been thinking about the open water swimming that she recommended 5 years ago and she replies, I’m all for excersise. You know that. Speaking – just having an appointment where I’m not looking at my phone or rather the world outside or spinning on my chair which all my recent appointments have been like. Just having that personal connection for the first time in 4 months.

I’m grateful that Dr M saw me today and phoned up the people she needed to. I’m grateful she adorned the scrubs over her clothes despite how hot it was. I’m grateful for her listening and for always trying to see me and not my illness. I’m grateful that she speaks to me in sensical words and doesn’t let me go off on a spiral and I’m grateful for her always letting me go over the 10 minutes. Always without fail. Grateful for great doctors and people who understand mental health. For those who try to help despite what my brain tells me.

Grateful.

Sitting on top off Primrose Hill, relaxing in the sun with a cuppa and a good book. Life is okay ya know. Simplicity is what gets me. Sun, nature and more recently classical music. The only problem is, it’s an hour cycle home and I need the loo so whether I stay too much longer is a different thing all together. But I m enjoying reveling in the sun and the freedom which I receive when cycling on my bike with my music a bit too loud.

Feeling sexy today so have put on a booby dress AND nice knickers. You know it’s the real deal when I do that haha.

I had a catch up with good friends today for brunch and it really set me up for a good day. Running tomorrow with work girls and then 2 more days of school and I can really relax into nature at home.

How are your weekends going?

Lazy Saturday’s

Saturday mornings waking up early used to be my worst thing but this week I’m reveling in it.

Yes, I did look at my phone for half an hour, playing on Tinder when I first awoke but then I did something different.

I turned off my phone and put my eye mask on, you know the thing that makes the world all dark again. I played classical music through my phone for a good half hour, just so I could relax into the day. Not the noise of TV, not the noise of the world but gentle calming music. I did this because I didn’t wanna become stuck in my bed, becoming miserable and complacent with the day ahead. A day that always feels too long.

Then I ate my breakfast in the garden, the sun shining down on me. The tea just hot enough and planning my day before nannying this evening.

I have booked to get some food from TooGoodToGo, a food waste app near to Notting Hill. It is a 7 mile cycle each way but nonetheless a reason to get out of the house. I might even treat myself to a Chai. And I’m video calling my best friend for a catch up that we haven’t had in a good TWO, yes TWO days!

Today life is good, I’m content and happy and I’m ready for what the world brings me. I’m putting out those good feels and hoping to get it back.

Happy Saturday you cheeky monkeys.

Ps I’ve also randomly booked tickets to see a classical candlelit concert ( yes all the c’s) as something that is on my bucket list. Life is for living.

” You need to be more adult in the way you handle things”

Just one example of a person in a position of power who truly doesn’t seem to handle mental health.

Today, at work I just blew up. I had been dealing with stress at work, stress that I couldn’t control or when I dropped hints and words like ” I’m sorry, I’m finding that group especially hard work. I’m trying, I really am. But they are sucking the life from me” I was met with “I can’t help, I’m being pulled in lots of different directions too.” Which I understand, my teacher is being pulled in lots of different directions and it isn’t all about me, but I cannot teach that group alone. The whole group not just the SEN children. I am only one person and I don’t get paid enough for that stress. Anyway today I had reached my limit, I had called back my doctor after missing her call on Monday and I had just spoken to my psychiatric team. I was trying so hard not to explode. I was actually trying to

ADULT

I was talking to people about what was going on for me, I was letting people know that I was like a bomb about to implode or explode or whatever the word may be. I I was stating that I might need to go home because today and the last 3 days had been so stressful but I was met with the response in the title by a member of senior leadership. By the top dog, the most senior person in my school. And that response just made me feel like a complete and utter failure. I explained to him how I was never taught the skills to ask for help and when I did growing up, it was thrown right back in my face. I was taught to deal with things alone and to not expect people to help me with my problems. I told him that it takes a great deal for me to reach out my tiny hands and open my mouth and ask for help. I especially find this hard when I am in my ‘irrational state’. When I’m rational, I can see what I need but isn’t that the catch with a lot of mental health issues. If we knew how to ask for help and actually take on the help we need surely we wouldn’t be in as much bother as now.

I dunno, I’m typing and rambling, but I just needed to get it out.

I’m going to try and catch an early night and wake up tomorrow fresh faced and ready to face the day, No more number 4 of stress.

I think my attachment style has changed.

So before when I looked back at my childhood, I always thought that I was part of the insecure attachment style and under the 3 umbrella terms – I thought that ambivalent suited me best. This is where the child.

The child fails to develop any feelings of security from the attachment figure. Accordingly, they exhibit difficulty moving away from the attachment figure to explore novel surroundings. When distressed they are difficult to soothe and are not comforted by interaction with the attachment figure.

So given my upbringing this totally makes some sense – I have trouble being soothed when I experience extreme emotions and only really get through them through time. When an event has passed, I feel more capable of talking about the event or the emotion. But until then I stumble and meander through the issues. And don’t get me wrong, I know that people are there for me – my friends I know that they understand and will help if ever I call but part of me tells me that they aren’t there – hence the ambivalence.

But more recently and after speaking to a new therapist who kept saying “It’s understandable that your attachment has been messed up ” or “your attachment style dictates this”. I’ve come to think that maybe my attachment style is more Inscure disorganised attachment. This is

thought to be an outcome of abuse and trauma in childhood. For example, stemming from when an attachment figure offers inconsistent emotional support and/or abuse. This can include verbal, physical or sexual abuse or the child witnessing an attachment figure commit a traumatising act. In either case, the consequences are twofold; the child understands the betrayal of safety that has occurred, and the child understands that a beloved parent or parental figure can become a serious threat to anyone in his proximity, including the child. At this point, the child learns that the attachment figure (who he or she loves and who is responsible for his or her safety) is also someone to be feared.

Particularly this attachment style is linked with the desire to be loved and cared for, to feel a connection with others – me, me, me and the need to survive – self protection, also me, me, me.

And do you know what it’s bloody irritating having that constant push and pull – never quite getting close enough to someone for fear they will leave, never allowing myself that comfort, that connection. When starting new relationships or friendships, they are everything and then I get stuck and too reliant or people don’t think I care because I have that lack of reply in me. I worry what they think. Get too attached and then when the person leaves as they ultimately do because of my behaviour it is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I dunno, thoughts for my mind, thoughts for my soul – gonna keep looking at this insecure disorganised attachement and see what I can discover

Finally moved out…

This weekend after looking for somewhere to move out to for the last 8 ish months. I finally moved out. Finally. Finally. Finally!

My Mumma helped me move, she helped me get out of that shit hole. She helped me to unpack so that I could spend the last night and today at home with my family, with those that know me. It was what I needed, after a long arse 4 months in lock down, in lock down with an alcoholic. One day I will explain the trauma and the experience of both living in a house that reminded me of my father and the experience of living with my father.

But not today.

Today is a post for happiness, of change and of positive vibes. I have moved into a new place, where I will have to learn new routines and new people but I know that this move is a positive step forward, to hopefully more stable times and a more stable life. A calming atmosphere. An atmosphere that is what I need to gain strength and power.

This illustration is from Charlie Macksey’s book, The Boy, The Mole, The Fox and The Horse and really how true is this. I think I need to forgive those that have hurt me and I also need to forgive myself in order to grow. Grow further and faster. I have strength and resillience to make it and to keep on going.

I’ve got this. Tonight. Tomorrow and onwards.

Father’s day, smarthers day.

From as far as I can remember this has always been a difficult day for me. Up until 2 years ago I felt forced to see my father, find a card that had words in it that I didn’t mean. But there was never a card that said ” Thanks for never being there, thanks for never showing me love or care, thanks for making it seem like my fault” or simply ” To a massive prick of a Dad, I hate you”. There was never those cards, the cards that said what I really felt. The few years before I stopped talking to my own father in 2019, I jumped on my sisters cards. She always picked ones that meant something so I guess it looked like I cared too.

But late March 2019, I stopped. I stopped all contact with my Dad but days like today where everyone is posting all over Instagram and Facebook about what amazing Dad’s they have still makes my heart hurt. Why was I never enough to get the love or care that I so craved and wanted? Why were you not there for me? Did I do something to make you as awful as you were? The posts today got me thinking, is it all for facade or do people have those genuinely loving and caring relationships with their parental figures.

I have such a distain for my father, that (well apart from today), I always text or got my mum a card which said Happy Father’s day. She basically raised us alone, making us strong independent women, but maybe I put her on a pedal stall too, such was my hate for him. The man that did me wrong, The man that I am trying to grieve for, the loss of not one but 2 parental caring figures, the loss of a childhood.

Today after spending what seemed like hours, tidying and packing up my room for a move next weekend, I went on a much needed walk. Flip flops were worn half of the way but around the common, on the grass and the pavement on the way home I wandered barefoot – almost as I needed something to feel. Something to ground me. The earth connecting with my soul as I wandered through the days, wandered through my emotions. If I could not wear my shoes, then I think I would spend the rest of my days connecting my soul to the world around me.

Sorry, I’ve been absent – a lot has been happening but I’m gonna try and get back to it again.

BLM protest

Today I marched, I marched alone but I marched for everybody who had enough, for those that couldn’t, those that wouldn’t and those no longer here. I marched and marched, through the streets of London, shouting, chanting, feeling. Being part of something bigger than me, bigger than all of us.

The atmosphere was simply electrifying. Everyone was united for one cause. Everyone there trying to make a difference. One movement. One chance. One goal. To make things better for others who are suffering. The chanting blew my mind, so loud, so precise. No hostility despite the understandable anger about what is happening in the world, not just in the USA but here too. The UK is not innocent in it’s racism, the racism is still here undercover and sometimes overt racism here but still racism hurting people – our friends, lovers, family.

The march was just incredible, an amazing feeling to be a part of something so big. To be part of a movement, to try to create some sort of change. Trying to stand up for those who are suffering and hurting, those that have fallen.

Starting in Westminster and going all over London, ending up at Battersea Park. Even the vets came out to support us. We stopped traffic and caused scenes but not in a bad way. Just enough to get people noticing and feeling and wondering. Getting people looking out their windows and doors, making them see and hear that Black Lives Matter, Black life matters. Not just today but all days and at all times. Black people have always mattered and they will always matter. This is enough. Enough is enough.

“No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.” Nelson Mandela.

More peace and more justice, no racist police. Nowhere. We are taught to hate but actually love comes easier to the heart. We all should be aiming for that….. love, not hate. Kindness not hate. Love for all.

Gosh, therapy was hard today.

So woaaaaah, therapy was very difficult for me today – firstly I didn’t get enough sleep because I’m worried about viewing this house, don’t know if it’s meant to be but I know that I’m desperate to get out of my current living situation. It’s confused me – I know it’s the right thing to do but maybe living with a mum and her child is not what I need but then again maybe I need some stability. Maybe that’s what I crave. I’m so over living in house shares with triggering alcoholics and drama and arguments.So when therapy started I’d already ridden for 20 minutes trying to get rid of the feelings and when therapy started with L, i was disconnected- cut off from feeling. Feeling anything. At one point I felt like I was floating above my body – I know I was here on the ground but I wasn’t there. Felt spacey and unaware of the words that kept coming out of my mouth. I tried to reconnect with myself but I kept looking away from the screen, not in her eyes – trying not to let her see into my soul, see my vulnerability.

L is leaving, I have 2 more sessions with her and then bosh 2 and a half years of therapy over and done with. She asked me how it feels and I’m not sure. I don’t think I’m processing the pregnancy – this morning I had a flash thought that she wasn’t even pregnant but that she didn’t want to work with me anymore. I didn’t entertain this thought for long but in my panic induced state this morning this is what came – I told L about it. She said is it because you think that no one cares for you so this is an easier way of looking at it rather than the hurt, the hurt of someone important in your life leaving. And maybe it is that or maybe it’s the fact that in therapy there is no hiding place. She has seen each and every part of me whether I have liked it or not – there has been no playing pretend and maybe that’s what I’m going to miss. Feeling comfortable and that’s where I need to find the strength and show my friends all sides of me too, no matter how vulnerable I am. She also mentioned this – I feel safe with her and how true. I don’t think I have felt internally safe much in my life, maybe not at all – constantly living in this survival mode – unsure of what is going to happen next.

Lastly, L asked me ” You were thinking of moving home, are you still thinking about that? Or are you planning on staying in London” My answer straight away was, “I don’t know if I’m staying in London but I do know that my family creates too much emotional instability for me. I can’t go home to that. It’s not helpful for me”. And it got me thinking my families love and care is based on conditions that I have to meet – me 90%, them 10%, sometimes not even that. I know that we are never going to be the family that I want and need and I need to grow to accept that. It’s now a when issue and not an if. I think I need a different kind of therapy that allows me to work through my deep rooted issues. Because whilst I’m still hurting and grieving for lost childhoods, for traumas I’ve been through I am never going to be able to move forward with the things that they offer with this service and that is quite a big realisation. And that thing with the family has got me feeling sad and not at all like myself but I gotta trust that it will all work out. Gotta start believing in myself cos maybe that is all I have.