One of the things about borderline personality disorder is the ability to freak out at what seems like nothing. Seriously, I once cried because Taco Bell was going to put refried beans on my taco salad. I was pregnant, but still.
Tonight's harrowing adventure involves me alone in the middle of the night browsing the internet. And then all of a sudden, WHAM! Like a frickin' Mack truck right in the feels. I was just sad and then really sad and then it made me think of all the things that sucked and all of the things about me that make me feel bad about myself. It was rough. I went from la dee da, I'm reading a good book to if I have to live like this anymore, then, thanks but no thanks, I'll opt out. And in only a few minutes. It's a gift.
It's 0200 over here, and I know I need to go to bed, but I just can't make myself. There's something about the stillness and quiet, you know? I used to think it was because it forced me to think of things I'd rather not think about, but that's dumb. All I do all day is think. To professionals and bovine it's called ruminating. I call it obsessing over crap and being a gigantic narcissist. How else can you describe someone who is turned so inward, so concerned with themselves and how they feel that they can barely function? I mean, I guess you can call them someone who is sick. Whatever. Stop trying to make me feel better. Now, though, I think it's because if I'm up, I can actively distract myself. But when I go to bed and it's dark and quiet, the world sort of closes for business and it gets really quite lonely. Especially on those days the hubs has to work nights. Like tonight. I've been putting a movie on while I fall asleep just for some background noise because I'm not okay with being alone. I need to say that again, I think.
I'm not okay with being alone.
Whoa Doc, this is heavy. I'm not sure I've really realized/admitted that before. Being terrified of real or perceived abandonment. So, like, hubs going to work after a long weekend. Sometimes it's nice, don't get me wrong. Under the right circumstances and when I'm in the right mood, alone is brilliant. It's the only thing that keeps me sane. But not tonight. Tonight's one of those nights where I mentally check the box for "little pleasure or interest in doing things". I don't know what my mood is, so I can't pick an appropriate movie to go to sleep to. I'm going to go with The Breakfast Club. I feel that as someone nearing thirty, I should be able to say I've seen The Breakfast Club. So, at least I'll endeavor to rectify this most egregious of wrongs.
I had an aha moment when I was reading the literature about "real or perceived abandonment". When I was a kid, my parents were divorced and I spent every other weekend with my dad. Usually friday after school until sunday evening. It would either come friday or saturday night, but I would cry. I cried because I knew I'd have to leave sunday night. I had just gotten there. I had days left and was already dreading leaving. I always thought it was just me being a weirdo. Nope. Just me being me.
Anyway. I'm going to attempt to go to bed. I'll be rollin' three deep with dread and John Hughes at my side.
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