Hiding from the world.
Do you see me?
Of course you don't, I'm hiding from you and everyone else. I've been hard at it the past week and a half.
I've made some sort of left turn (or two) in this new year. I quietly hoping I manage one more left turn so I can claim I've taken the long way to a right. That's the joke anyway, isn't it? Jokes aside, I can't place my finger on what's changed. Clearly my mood has shifted these past couple of weeks. Maybe it's been longer.
Depression can be so insidious at times. It was just 7 weeks ago today that I was pushing through to finish my NaNoWriMo novel. The climactic ending to a month of focus and drive, energy and exercise. I wasn't "on top of the world" by any stretch, but for me, it registered as a good month.
So what's happened these past 49 days? Holiday blues? Doubtful. A birthday and another year tacked on? Maybe, but I'm skeptical. I'm now 3 days away from the two year anniversary of my most serious, and public, suicide attempt. I'd be a fool to not think that is weighing on my mind, but I can't consciously feel that it is.
So what is it? I haven't swayed with my medication taking. (Although I did have one day when I flat out forgot to take it, but that was just the one day.) I'm still going to DBSA meetings every other week, and the "social" DBSA meetings at a coffee shop.
I am looking for a new therapist. Erich had so much potential to challenge me and push me to learning about myself, but he's focussed too much on safety plans and forms and such. It's been very difficult for me to formulate a plan for when I'm approaching a crisis as my history has not proved I'm aware that I am approaching one.
I am probably in one as I type this, hidden away in a Caribou Coffee missing my first DBSA meeting without having a scheduling conflict. I was in the parking lot a little bit ago. All I had to do was get out of the car and walk in. But the need to hide won out. I probably should have gone in. I could have just sat and listened, not needing to talk about me. The thought of talking to anyone right now is terrifying. Even just having those wonderful people from the group see me sitting there, is fear inducing.
In my head, there is no way they would understand that I just didn't want to talk. Surely they'd all be ruminating in their minds, trying to figure out how messed up I am. I'd fidget and they'd notice, use that minor motion as a clue to figuring out what was going on with me. I'd get up to go to the bathroom (I drink in inordinate amount of diet soda) and they'd think I was stepping out to avoid the situation. Right?
Because there is no way in Hell I'd act that way towards one of them, nor have I ever witnessed anything like that before. But it's me wanting to hide, BPD has long informed me that that's what people do to me. Why would a mental disorder lie to me?
So here I sit. I lied to MO and told her I couldn't talk on the phone because I was at that meeting. I was talking to JA, who had some concerns she wanted to talk with me about, and once I'd talked her through her problems I told her I needed to go so I could get into the meeting. I was still 10 minutes away from the location.
Soon I'll have to leave this cozy coffee shop corner and head home to Nora. It's safe there too, when it's just her there. She knows I'm struggling a bit lately. I suppose she'll know more if she reads this. There's not much I struggle to tell her, she's my lobster after all. But we're still working on meshing my mental illnesses with her anxiety so I try not to make emotional dumps on her. Little by little.
So what have we accomplished here?
- I've made a blog post.
- I've shared, though maybe incompletely.
- You, the reader, are probably bored enough to head to bed now.
- I feel ready to head to bed.
Be safe and be well.