Saturday, May 23, 2009
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
the amount of time I spend...
thinking about a haircut is pretty fucking ridiculous. it's just hair. I cut, it grows. why is it not that simple?
a few issues.
I am not a waif. I'm always afraid if I cut my hair, the rest of me will look bigger bc I'm out if balance somehow.
my hair is the perfect hiding place. it covers my face on the sides and gives me a sheltered feeling.
when you are a person with a bit of a damaged psyche, it's easy to look at changes and overthink them. and doubt them. and go back and forth again.
so really by issues are less about hair and more about my sometimes fucked up brain process.
I was on twitter and I types BPD into the search field. I came across a profile for a Dutch doctor who made a blog post about bpd and what they've learned over the past decade. a good read, and it's just got me thinking about my own brain. the last big episode I had was in oct of 07-- it was before bram died, and I remember walking around in the back of our place and smelling the damp fall air and trying like hell to keep my brain together. I was three months preg and horrified that my head would never quiet the fuck down.
then a day or two later I was in the same backyard area, on the phone with michelle davidson, sobbing intermittently while trying to wrap my head around the news of what had happened. I kept expecting my head to split open and go into a full-on episode. it never happened. and it hasn't since.
michelle told me that she used to have anxieties, and when bram left, it was as though he took them with him, as she hadn't had them since. I can't help but wonder if, in some way, he did the same for me.
or maybe that's how my brain copes with tragedy. or perhaps the death of someone close was something that my brain interpreted as "way fucking worse than anything else in childhood ever was," thus taking away the power from the horrible childhood shit that used to fuck up my life on a regular basis.
I also know that bpd has the tendency over time with therapy and medication to calm down. I think it has to do with age as a life-stabilizing factor, less turbulence in day to day life. I know that is true as well.
my thinking patterns are still much the same as they used to be. I've just changed in the ways I act on those thoughts. knee-jerk reactions still exist, they are just easier to keep at bay.
if icould afford it, I'd go back to school andgo into counseling for bpd cases. I think i'd be good at it.
now I need a nap.
a few issues.
I am not a waif. I'm always afraid if I cut my hair, the rest of me will look bigger bc I'm out if balance somehow.
my hair is the perfect hiding place. it covers my face on the sides and gives me a sheltered feeling.
when you are a person with a bit of a damaged psyche, it's easy to look at changes and overthink them. and doubt them. and go back and forth again.
so really by issues are less about hair and more about my sometimes fucked up brain process.
I was on twitter and I types BPD into the search field. I came across a profile for a Dutch doctor who made a blog post about bpd and what they've learned over the past decade. a good read, and it's just got me thinking about my own brain. the last big episode I had was in oct of 07-- it was before bram died, and I remember walking around in the back of our place and smelling the damp fall air and trying like hell to keep my brain together. I was three months preg and horrified that my head would never quiet the fuck down.
then a day or two later I was in the same backyard area, on the phone with michelle davidson, sobbing intermittently while trying to wrap my head around the news of what had happened. I kept expecting my head to split open and go into a full-on episode. it never happened. and it hasn't since.
michelle told me that she used to have anxieties, and when bram left, it was as though he took them with him, as she hadn't had them since. I can't help but wonder if, in some way, he did the same for me.
or maybe that's how my brain copes with tragedy. or perhaps the death of someone close was something that my brain interpreted as "way fucking worse than anything else in childhood ever was," thus taking away the power from the horrible childhood shit that used to fuck up my life on a regular basis.
I also know that bpd has the tendency over time with therapy and medication to calm down. I think it has to do with age as a life-stabilizing factor, less turbulence in day to day life. I know that is true as well.
my thinking patterns are still much the same as they used to be. I've just changed in the ways I act on those thoughts. knee-jerk reactions still exist, they are just easier to keep at bay.
if icould afford it, I'd go back to school andgo into counseling for bpd cases. I think i'd be good at it.
now I need a nap.
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