Confessions from Sister Margaret Mary

Alvin's friend passed away recently, this sweet girl was in Alvin's youth group way back in the day, we were the same age and her death and the circumstances surrounding her life affected me a great deal. We went to Bloomington, IN for the funeral and memorial service two weeks ago and I just now feel like I'm beginning to feel normal again. That I'm no longer under some cloud of confusion or constant feelings of being overwhelmed. The whole ordeal really shook me at the core of my foundation. What little foundation there is, for that matter. I don't feel like getting into explaining what happened or how it affected me...I think I'd rather just leave it alone...I've had a hard time getting a peace about it but feel I've finally reached some place of peace...so we'll leave it at that.
During our time in Bloomington, Alvin and I caught up with some old friends of his and had dinner. One couple, their son and new wife treated us for pizza. It was a good time with good conversation even though I was sick with the flu or some nasty illness that had me down and out. The highlight was meeting James' wife (the couple's son's new wife) Susan. She is a writer and wrote three books which she generously gave to Alvin and I. The first book she wrote, I read today. The Lost Soul Companion...A Book of Comfort and Constructive Advice for Black sheep, Square Pegs, Struggling Artists, and Other Free Spirits. What a treasure of a book with such profound advice. I love it's comforting style and the feeling that the author, Susan, is along side you sharing in this journey, we call life. I'm mustering up the strength and words to write her and share with her the appreciation I have for her uncanny ability to speak such wisdom. Check it out.

I wake up in such utter despair sometimes. My peaceful, restful state regularly gets interrupted with such bullshit dreams. Dreams I know are intended to highlight something, to catch my attention, but rather leave me lonely and overwhelmed. For as long as I can remember I have dreamt of my family. Replaying memories of my childhood or some variation of them. For many people, when they drink, this very honest almost uncanny part of themselves displays itself. I'm not a big fan of drinking so for me that gut-wrenching honesty shows up in my dreams. In my waking life, I practice a lot of energy in controlling myself, keeping myself in check as far as what I feel and how I react to it. How I would really act if I would lose control and be uninhibited portrays itself in my dream life. Its almost embarrassing to share with others. I don't need this area of myself to be addressed or to be given any clout. Then again, in full humility I acknowledge that most of my dreams show some area of unforgiveness, shame or confusion in myself. And that's where the utter despair makes its entrance. From my standpoint, my life has been made up of very little progress in terms of growth for myself. I wake up in what I hoped would be a new start to a brand new day but rather I am avalanched with a mess of dreams to sort out and confront in a real and honest way. I most of the time slip into some sloth like state of pity, a depressed and angry shell of a woman. Feeling burdened and overwhelmed with the intensity of my subconscious and its power over me. It's all just so stupid, I say to myself and then go on with my day, starting some meaningless, mundane task that must be done but will bring no real change to my life and certainly no substance. It's endless, this merry-go-round of nothingness that I live in. I have so many coping mechanisms set up so that I can maintain some sort of "regular" life but nothing very profound. Just existing really. As far as the dreams go, they are constant companions or enemies, I should say. And the beat goes on.

I want to speak a bit about BPD and the 6th criteria needed in order to be diagnosed as BPD...Who am I?  This facet of the disorder I face head on each day.  I'm sure to extent everyone struggles with understanding who they are but with me it can be downright debilitating...it has held me back numerous times and in many ways.  It shows itself in being indecisive, staying isolated, a bit boring when it comes to doing things, chaos inside, confusing thinking, rash decisions, stress, anxiety, blah, blah, blah.  I don't know what I want to do with my life or who I am called to be.  I feel like a popsicle box, you never know what flavor you're going to pull out.  It changes according to what's going on, the weather, my mood, or for no reason at all.  I have been driving in the car and felt one way about something and a few minutes go by and I feel differently, no reason just changed my mind.  I feel no stable place within myself to call my own.  For a long time, when someone would call my name I would wonder in my head, who is that?  I want to meet her, I like her name.  Complete dissociation...I don't know who I am.  Now the reason for this is a whole other blog, it has a lot to do with what I didn't get from my mother but the time for getting what I needed from her has passed and now I have to deal with the present.  The present being an adult with decisions to be made and a life to live.  How I go about doing that is difficult, some days are easier than others.  I've noticed though, in the healing I have received from God, I am definitely more able to be more open to ideas and new things.  I use to be so set in my beliefs and untouchable...that was my defense.  In realizing that was doing nothing for me, I've allowed myself the opportunity to try new things and  accept failing, if that so happens.  I scrapbook about myself.  I cut out pictures from magazines that catch my eye, images that make me think about who I am or who I want to be.  Then I cut and paste them in a book...it's funny how it has changed and become better through time, as well as, the comfort the book brings me.  I also taught myself how to sew...I made curtains for our home, a blanket for Miss Eleanor and I even made a purse!!  I'm experimenting with change...I'm watching movies that in the past I claimed to not like, I'm cooking new things, trying on different styles of clothing (though I can't afford them:) ) and you know, it's fun!...and scary...but it's growing me and I feel a little less stagnant and dead inside.  I wanted to share the lyrics of a song I heard today...it's one of my favorites surely because it speaks to my heart.  Check out the lyrics below then read this: I've been to doctors.  No mountains but I have sought solace in many things, including alcohol and drugs.  I have looked to my own children wondering if in my rearing them would answer the question of who I am.  I have sought wise counsel.  I have said my prayers and read my Bible.  I didn't finish college but I read a lot and look out for any nugget of insight that jumps out at me.  I guess the chorus says it all: The longer I go at this, the better I am...the more comfortable I am in my own skin.  I can hear my name and know that it is me. 

Im trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give me insight between black and white
And the best thing youve ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously
Its only life after all
Yeah

Well darkness has a hunger thats insatiable
And lightness has a call thats hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it
Im crawling on your shores

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
Theres more than one answer to these questions
Pointing me in a crooked line
And the less I seek my source for some definitive
(the less I seek my source)
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine

And I went to see the doctor of philosophy
With a poster of rasputin and a beard down to his knee
He never did marry or see a b-grade movie
He graded my performance, he said he could see through me
I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind
Got my paper and I was free

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
Theres more than one answer to these questions
Pointing me in a crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
(the less I seek my source)
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine

I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.
To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend
And I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
Twice as cloudy as Id been the night before
And I went in seeking clarity.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
Yeah we go to the doctor, we go to the mountains
We look to the children, we drink from the fountains
Yeah we go to the bible, we go through the workout
We read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout
Theres more than one answer to these questions
Pointing me in a crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
(the less I seek my source)
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine

Alvin and I went to the bookstore today, a rare occasion but one I enjoyed none the less. He was on pursuit of a book a friend told him about that he felt he must read.  They didn't have it but we  we're still able to enjoy our time there.  I was able to read my favorite magazine "Mothering" and peruse the endless displays of books.  I always leave the bookstore with some lesson or feeling that will stay with me...something that I chew on and allow my mind to explore.  Unfortunately, in the past it has usually been a negative thought.  Such as, I am so indecisive, I can't read anything because I can't even decide what to read.  Today though, probably because I was distracted by the immense amount of back pain I'm feeling, I was calm and didn't entertain any negative thoughts.  I just looked.  Without getting all wordy as to what I read and what it said, I'll just tell you what I left with.  I was left thinking about that still, small voice inside of all of us that we often don't listen to but is there for our listening to and learning from.  I have thought so many times before, what is it like to hear that voice?  I need to find out and I'd probably be wiser if I did.  Well, today I realized I have heard that voice recently and I have listened to it.  Now I understand why people don't usually want to listen to it and how hard it can be to simply accept what it's saying as your own thoughts and feelings.   Going back to my point, my inner voice told me I like being alone.  In the past when hearing that I would have disregarded it as hogwash and gone on.  But I allowed myself the space to entertain the idea of liking to be alone.  What does that say about me? If I like being alone then why did I get married?  Is this the reason my marriage has been so hard?  Why did I have children?  Do I not really love them?  No, I think that it simply means that, I like being alone.  I think our inner voice tell us the truth about ourselves in an unbiased way.  I'm used to my inner voice saying something negative but in reality it only speaks truth.  I just like being alone...no implications.  I don't know if I have made sense...my hope is that I have....it was just an "ah, ha" moment and I wanted to share it with you.

I had a friend of mine tried to encourage me today.  What she said wasn't too harmful but I took it the wrong way.  I suppose I'm a bit narcissistic and feel when I'm in a bad mood I should have understanding not some type of pep talk or "it could be worse" talk.  As a child, my feelings were constantly denied so now as an adult, I cautiously try and display what I'm feeling and when it backfires...I'm mad for sharing my vulnerability.  If I'm upset, let me be upset...that's all.   With all that said now I feel free to comment on some things that happened recently that made me happy.  Things that made the inside of my heart smile.  For instance, today I was on the deck looking in from the outside...Miss Mya came over to the door (which she knows she shouldn't be) and preceded to lick the door once, like a dog, and simply turned around and walked away.  I was hysterical...all by myself.  I couldn't get mad, I just laughed.   And the pure joy in watching Eleanor take her first steps on her own last week.  There really is not something as profound as watching a baby turn into a toddler...your sweet helpless infant turn into an independent little person.  It was beautiful, just as beautiful as with Addison and Mya...just different, unique and special as each child is.  What else?  Addison and I were doing homework tonight and he had to write a letter to a relative.  He chose his cousin Jasmin.  As we were deciding what he was going to say at the end of the letter, I said why don't you say "I love you."?  He responded, my 5 year old big boy son of mine, by saying, "Mommmm, don't be gross!"  My firstborn, all grown up.  It really was funny but sad, a grieving sad, at the same time.  As a mother, its always a harsh reality to realize, your children WILL grow up.  Anyway, here's another funny...there are times when Alvin has made me upset and I feel the need to let him pay for it but using my mean, angry tone and not look at him.  Well sometimes that just sets us up for a lovely fight, but sometimes Alvin just doesn't think its worth it and he calls my bluff and as I try as hard as I might to stare away and "be angry", he'll joke with me, poke me and ask me why won't you look at me?  And there you have it, humor won.  And saved us from some stupid, petty fight.  I absolutely love when that happens.  Here's one other thing that made me so happy.  I was driving to clean a house the other day on highway 55 when I looked across the median to the opposing traffic and saw a woman walking from her stranded car on the side of the highway.  A few yards in front of her was a man walking from his pickup truck towards the woman carrying a gas can. I smiled and I thought, who would have thought....God is still alive and working in people's hearts.  Amen.  So there's a few things...for the record, my mood has yet to change but helps put this life into perspective.  Oh, one more thing I can't fail to mention, when my husband brings in the mail or brings down the trash cans from trash day...top of the line, make me happy!!

So I have this little part of myself I thought I would let you in on...most of my closest friends know about it but I thought I would set the record straight on what I have and what it is.  I have Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), I was diagnosed last year and have been therapy to learn how to deal with, ever since.  I thought I would give you a thorough definition of this disorder, not many have heard of it and it can be a bit difficult to describe.  So, from the book entitled, "I Hate You-Don't Leave Me" by Jerold J. Kreisman, M.D. I give you the DSM's diagnostic criteria for BPD.  To be diagnosed as BPD you must exhibit five of the eight criteria.

I'm a writer, I have always been, and I have put off writing for way to long.  I don't know exactly why.   Perhaps because I'm busy, maybe because I think I'll sound utterly cynical and pessimistic, or it could be I don't want to fail.  It's probably a combination of all three.  I'm going to try though and get past all that and just write.  Now here's the question: What exactly am I to write about?  How about how I feel.  I feel tired and miserable.  Not in a feel sorry for me kind a way, but the I don't how I got here and not sure how I'm gonna get out of it kind a way.  Deep under this darkness I feel everyday I know there's things I want to share with the world.  Conversations to have, experiences to behold and a comforting, weightless happiness to live by.  I cannot get there though to save my life.  Now I really sound depressing...but it's my reality.  I put my feet in front of each other everyday simply getting by and finishing the day.  My life is not a pit of despair, I do laugh and I am happy, but not for long.  There seems to always be this dark despairing presence in the room reminding me of what I cannot seem to get out of.  The bottom line is there is a lot of things that are previous, that brought me to this point.  It's the sorting them out, believing that I am making progress and the idea that I may eventually get out of this cave that is so hard to content with.  It's a mountain of belief, of hope for something I'm not sure is obtainable.  I desperately want to look forward, but it's the putting off looking at the past that has gotten me here in the first place.  I'm trying to make sense of it all but I confess to you now, I get so utterly confused in this darkness...that is it's horrible giftedness it has over me.  It's a fog of emotion, words, and memories that I cannot keep straight.  My head and heart are a blender of mush.  Mushy nothingness.  I'm gonna get through this one step at a time, I just felt today needed to be the day where I started to write about it.