The last few days have been really, really challenging. I've been almost constantly swinging back and forth between desperately wanting to speak to Therapist (to say what exactly I don't know) and being so phenomenally pissed off with her (again, about what I don't know) that I never want to see her again. It's been hard. I'm assuming the trigger is our break tomorrow, and all the borderline madness that that has inspired, but knowing that and being able to handle it are two very different things. I get why it's happening, which helps to some degree, but the rollercoaster of emotion, and subsequent actual physical feeling that goes along with it? Still nasty. A broken arm is still going to hurt even though you know why it hurts, isn't it?
Yesterday I had a few bits to do in town. Friday, I got my hair cut followed by a late night (and largely unsuccessful) Christmas shopping run. The day before that, work and a trek back into town for an appointment with D. Wednesday? Hubby was working late. Tuesday I can't remember at this point. There was nothing unusual in all this running around, that's just how it goes for us. Ordinarily, it would just leave me tired. But this week, there was the constant monologue about Therapist in the background that made it so much more tiring. Everywhere I go, I wonder if I'm going to bump into her (Galway is a small town, it'd be a rare day not to spot someone you know wandering around). Half of me desperately wants to, the other is the polar opposite. I've been edgy, agitated. As I was driving into town yesterday, the monologue got so loud I had to resort to very loud (bad) singing along to the radio to try and drown it out. When that didn't work, I eventually, and unconsciously resorted to just plain shouting. Didn't work so well either, but it did at least release some pent up stress.
I spent the afternoon with a good friend yesterday, one who always makes me feel better. That helped. I came home, got into the jammies and lit a fire. That helped. A couple of glasses of wine helped. Clearing out a monumental pile of clutter helped. Today? I think I feel a little more balanced, so far at least. I got up early with the kids and was organised enough to get a pot of soup on. Now, I want to tackle a build up of email. When my head gets as shouty and incessant as it has been the last few days, I desperately need to regain control somehow. For today, putting order on the external things will at least give me some semblance of control. My head is too cluttered to be in a cluttered house as well.
Labels: agitation, attachment, borderline personality disorder, control, emotional lability, emotionally unstable personality disorder, therapist, triggers