Is that Harry Potter?

So I have finally turned my oldest son on to the Harry Potter series! This was a personal goal because, you know, it’s Harry Potter.

I have been trying to get him to read this series for about two years but the kid has ADHD, so anytime something shiny caught his eye that was the end of the boy who lived and the wizard who shall not be named.

However, the blessed day happened when I showed him the first two movies… bad parenting move I know. But I had to get him interested somehow and asking him to read and reading it to him was not working but watching the movies did. So because of the movies, he finished reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone and more recently finished, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.

Now he wants to fucking be Harry Potter. He wants his hair like Harry. He wants to be addressed as Harry. He legally wants to change his name to Harry Fucking Potter… I think ‘fucking’ is optional.

Then the other day I hear screaming and crying and I run at a full sprint into the family room to find that my son ‘poked’ himself with his own fingernail. (I have attached the picture below.) Coincidence? I’ll let you decide.

Until next time,

These dementors are sucking the life out of me

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Airing My Dirty Laundry

***Trigger Warning- Suicide***

You know, I thought long and hard about whether or not I wanted to write this blog. It took so long because I was ashamed and embarrassed about writing it and then I thought, ‘fuck it. Maybe it will help one person.’

So I have been going through a very difficult time. I would share that part with you but I stated to another party that I wouldn’t… people are so particular. <insert eyeroll>

But that part doesn’t matter. What does matter is that this particular situation broke me so badly that I have shattered into a million pieces. There are shards of my well-being all over the floor and I can’t seem to pick them all up. I have fallen back into old behaviors, the biggest one is self-harming.

This situation has destroyed a piece of me and I don’t think anyone that is involved really cares. I started scratching my arms till they bleed and over medicating my body. I am not self harming for attention; I am self harming because the pain inside is so severe that I don’t know how to get rid of it. The pain in my body is so deep that the only way to feel better is to harm myself and release some of that inner tension and inner pain.

On Thursday night, I contacted the suicide hotline so I could talk to someone. I thought about calling my best friend and even considered calling my therapist but I just couldn’t because I feel like I am such a burden to others. I am sick of hearing myself tell the same people how I feel and getting the same response. My pain runs so deep and dark that I don’t think it is fair to tell anyone how I really feel, so i decided to tell someone who didn’t know me; and that’s when I contacted the suicide hotline.

It felt good to get my issues and my pain off my chest. I could be honest about how I took too much medication and how I was considering taking the rest of the bottle. You see, people that want to commit suicide don’t want to do it to hurt themselves; they want to do it to get rid of the immense internal pain.

And let’s clear up some clich’es that I am sure you are thinking of already. Yes. I have an excellent family. Yes. I love my husband and love my children but in my twisted mind, I feel like they would be better off with someone healthier than me. Someone more patient. Someone happier. Someone smarter. Someone more beautiful. Someone skinner. Someone better.

I know what you are going to say, that I am perfect the way I am and I thank you for thinking that and for loving me for me but I don’t love me and that is my issue. A huge issue that I have been working on in therapy for close to three years.

So I contacted the suicide hotline and I thought it was anonymous but it’s not. Thirty minutes later, the police were knocking on my door. And as embarrassing as this encounter was, it was one that kept me from doing any more harm to my body or pushing myself just a little too much from not waking up. It saved me from me.

I was given two choices, to leave with the police voluntarily or involuntarily. I had to really balance my mind in that moment to realize that I didn’t really have a choice and I was going either way. I was taken down to the police car, patted down and took a taxi ride to the hospital.

Once there, they cut my drawstrings because I refused to wear their clothes and they gave me fuzzy socks. After check-in, I went to bed in nothing but a recliner.

The people at the hospital were friendly and even though I was scared to death, I still felt a sense of comfort surrounded by a large heaping pile of embarrassment and shame. I was hoping that I could connect with someone and someone would connect with me. Like having similar war stories, similar pain, similar feelings; a sign that I wasn’t alone.

The next day I ate a granola bar for breakfast and had a cup of coffee while gathered around the TV with other patients. I watched three movies that day. Three. There wasn’t a group or anyone to talk to; I met with the psychiatrist for ten minutes before I was discharged. I knew all the answers to get out of the hospital. I just wanted to go home.

The reason I am writing this is because:

1) I am grateful to the people that called the police from the suicide hotline, even if I did feel betrayed.

2) Mental health help, guidance and perception needs to change in America and people like me should get real help when we hit rock bottom.

3) Even though my mind is in dark places, my husband, kids, friends and my therapist, I will be forever grateful because they are the ones that make me feel like I can make it one more day, one more minute and one more second when all i want to do is slip away.

Until next time,

Allison

If you are suffering from suicidal thoughts, call the national suicide hotline at 1 800-273-8255 or text 741741.

You’re Blurry.

So I have been going to the gym this last month- I know, I am surprised myself.

Surprised or not, I am constantly noticing that I am judging myself for how fat I am and how ugly I look. I also imagine that because of how I think I look, that other people must see me in the same way.

So yesterday, I went swimming and as I walked onto the wet pool deck into the warm atmosphere, I was self-conscious that my bathing suit barley covered my boobs (neither do turtlenecks) and that my bathing suit is literally falling apart. I got into the pool fast so no one could see anything. My bathing suit is black and because of my weight, I think I look like an orca whale sloshing around the water. The movie should have been titled, Free Ally instead of Free Willy.

As I am bobbing around in the deep end, I realized that this was the first time that I haven’t put in my contacts and basically the whole world was blurry. It was so blurry in fact that I couldn’t see people’s faces, their expressions and I barely knew what genders were surrounding me as the water sloshed back and forth. At first, it made me angry because I am so self-conscious that I feel like I am constantly checking people’s facial expressions to see if they hate me as much as I hate me. However, I then realized what a great relief it was not to have that pressure for an hour straight. Then it hit me; this is how I should live my life.

I want to live my life legally blind, so to speak. I want to live my life three feet in front of my face and not worry about what happened in the past and what is going to happen in the future. I want to live my life in the present.

Having Borderline Personality Disorder, I am constantly worried about who was in my life five years ago and why they left or who will love me enough to be in my life in the next five years. And being legally blind in the pool, I realized that I couldn’t worry about what has happened in the past and I can’t obsess about what is going to happen in the future because all I have is here and now. And if I need to look at life through a blurry lens to keep my focus on the now, then that’s how I have to live my life.

The people that are going to matter will be in my life in my future and the people that will be exiting my life will either leave quietly or leave with a bang. But either way, I will pick up the pieces and live my life the way it was meant to be lived; in the here and now and three feet in front of my face.

Until next time,

Allison

Special thanks to my therapist who constantly tells me to live my life this way and constantly reminds me to focus on the present when I lose my way.

Kids, Listen!

I will do anything to get my kids to listen to me… anything.

The other day I was with my middle son, Nicholas, and I was trying to get our oldest son, Vincent, to listen to me. And this is how it went…

‘Vincent, get your shoes on!’ -me

<silence>

‘Vincent, get your shoes on!’ -me

<silence>

…in a deep Godlike voice…

‘Vincent, this is God…’ -me

‘And his sidekick, Jesus… put on your shoes…’ -Nicholas

Until next time,

The Holy Spirit is my home slice.

Getting Bullied

So I have a fucking bully.

She is pretty much a bitch and is always talking about me. She has said the following:

1) I am a horrible mom/wife/teacher.

2) I am fat and ugly.

3) I am worthless and stupid.

4) I have done nothing productive with my life.

5) I should go kill myself because I don’t matter to anyone.

You name it and she has said it. And what hurts the most is that this is someone that I thought I knew. Someone I thought I could depend on but in all honesty, she is a fucking bitch and I don’t know how to get rid of her.

She comes around often and she is constantly saying these mean and horrible things to me and the worst part is that I believe it.

If this was one of my friends telling me this same story, I would tell them to just get rid of this person and cut them out of their life. But hey, easier said than done, right?

We all have that one person that is impossible to get rid of. I always have good intentions that I will talk to her, sit her down and be honest with how much she is fucking hurting me but I never do.

I guess I am stuck and don’t know how to get out. I even tried to talk myself through a mock conversation in the mirror. But see, she was there, looking straight at me.

I’m the bully and I hate myself with so much anger and force that it hurts to be in my own skin.

If only someone would understand.

The pain is so awful that hurting myself feels like the only way out. It is the only way I could be away from her forever and she could never hurt me again.

Until next time,

The victim

May is Borderline Personality Disorder Awareness Month. Let Me Educate You.

May is Borderline Personality Disorder Awareness Month and I thought that now was the time to open up and bare it all- I don’t have anything to lose.

I feel like this blog is important to write because it will give you insight on my disorder and perhaps make you aware of the issues that I deal with every minute of every day.

I know what you are thinking, ‘it can’t always be like this,’ and you are partially right. However, know this, my mind and my actions drift through this disorder like a ship during a hurricane with a side of tsunami. The only way I make it safely to land is through hard work, skills and my amazing therapist. I practice DBT Skills every day. DBT stands for Dialectical Behavior Therapy. There are major skills that go into DBT in order for me to try to live the greatest life possible.

According to the Mayo Clinic, Borderline Personality Disorder Awareness has the following symptoms. I am putting the symptoms in bold, and then explaining to you how these symptom affect me.

Signs and symptoms may include:

  • An intense fear of abandonment, even going to extreme measures to avoid real or imagined separation or rejection -BPD does develop even before you are able to talk and abandonment is my biggest fear. If I feel like I screwed up in a relationship, even if it is a strong relationship like me and my husband, I automatically assume he will leave and divorce me. It’s not once and a while, it’s a fear that is ongoing in my home life but is also evident in my daily work life as well.
  • A pattern of unstable intense relationships, such as idealizing someone one moment and then suddenly believing the person doesn’t care enough or is cruel – My most stable relationship, and one that I am forever thankful for is my husband, Joe. However, my other relationships usually end on a bad note, either I get too clingy or I get scared and push away. Either way, the outcome is usually the same which is that the relationship ended on bad terms.
  • Rapid changes in self-identity and self-image that include shifting goals and values, and seeing yourself as bad or as if you don’t exist at all -This is something that I fight with everyday. I view myself as an unworthy, bad person. I don’t know my own identity. I tend to take on my surroundings like a chameleon in the rainforest. The rainforest is the world and I am a chameleon that doesn’t know what color to be because I just want to fit in. I don’t feel like I even fit in with myself.
  • Periods of stress-related paranoia and loss of contact with reality, lasting from a few minutes to a few hours -I catastrophize every and all situations. If Joe goes to work, I think he will die in the 1.2 mile car ride there. To give a more extreme example is that I also have PTSD from an active shooter drill that my school made us participate in in 2013. It has been five years since that drill but everyday I kiss my own kids goodbye, for what I think will be the last time, because I think they will die at their school. When I would walk into my school I would take a big breath in thinking that this would indeed be my last day. Part of that is the paranoia and a giant part of it is the PTSD but either way, it gives you a glimpse into how I think.
  • Impulsive and risky behavior, such as gambling, reckless driving, unsafe sex, spending sprees, binge eating or drug abuse, or sabotaging success by suddenly quitting a good job or ending a positive relationship -So, yeah, I drive recklessly especially when I am angry. I pray to God that another driver will kill me in the process because I don’t have the guts to do it on my own and I don’t think I am worthy enough to live. However, I am aware enough not to do this with my kids in the car because I love them too much. I also enjoy drinking, sometimes in excess. And it’s not because I like to be wasted but I use this as a coping mechanism. I use it as an escape. I need to escape and this is how I do it. Luckily, in this category I only have those two things. I am fortunate enough that I made the decision to only have one partner. I was a virgin when I got married and that was a conscious and religious choice and I am glad I followed through because that is something I am proud of. I don’t gamble because teachers don’t have money. I have never even tried drugs and never had the desire to so that’s out. I do spend money but not to excess and if you checked out this body, you would see that I like binge eating.
  • Suicidal threats or behavior or self-injury, often in response to fear of separation or rejection -This is a sensitive subject for anyone but one that still needs to be talked about despite the uncomfortableness of the subject. I do a lot of things that fall under self-harm. It’s not that I necessarily want to die, it’s that the pain inside me is so severe that self-harming is a way to feel. It’s hard to explain but it’s like feeling like I am dead inside already and I do it to feel any type of life within me. Last year, I got a tattoo on my wrist to remind me to Just Breathe. It’s a way to help me drop that pill bottle when the pain gets to overwhelming and the demons in my head tell me that I am not good enough anyway. (The demons are metaphorical… I don’t actually hear voices. )
  • Wide mood swings lasting from a few hours to a few days, which can include intense happiness, irritability, shame or anxiety -Yes, I am all of these things. I could be in the best mood and something will trigger something so deep within me that I snap into a whirlwind of other emotions. I have many triggers but to give you an idea of how quickly, and what you would think is so minor, something can set me off, is actually being called stupid. When I was younger, I wasn’t good at school, not because I didn’t try but because I was labeled as stupid. I was taught that I would never be smart, especially at math or science and that’s how I grew up, with a label so simple and so hurtful as, stupid. And that word sends me into a blind rage.
  • Ongoing feelings of emptiness-I am basically Swiss cheese. I have so many holes that are empty and they long to be filled and I am just not able to fill them on my own. I tend to look towards others to understand and to realize if I am worthy enough. And even if that validation is given to me, the moment and the feeling is fleeting and the hole returns. I have to learn to fill it for myself which is what therapy is for and why I depend on such an amazing therapist. She helps me to fill in my holes with love and validation and I can depend on her.
  • Inappropriate, intense anger, such as frequently losing your temper, being sarcastic or bitter, or having physical fights -Well, you all know I am sarcastic if you read my blogs or if you know me in real life. A lot of people say that they can’t take me seriously because of my sarcasm but what regular people don’t know is that my sarcasm is my defense mechanism. I need to beat you to the proverbial punch in the face. I insult myself before you have a chance. Then onto anger, I am angry person. I rage. I throw things and if I am really mad I will leave the house just to keep myself from raging in front of my family. Don’t worry, Joe is with the kids. But I don’t want to be that person and because of my intense therapy, I have become so much better. My levels of rage have diminished and I am like a new person. I can’t thank my therapist enough.

I want to thank you for reading about me and for taking the time to educate yourself. I am not a crazy person but a person who has a deep fear of abandonment and emptiness. It will take a lifetime of healing and patience but I am in this for life. I can’t give up now because I want to see tomorrow.

Until next time,

Allison

If you are suffering and are thinking about harming yourself, please call the suicide hotline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255).

All information was from: http://www.mayoclinic.org.

The Reality of Mother’s Day.

1) I woke up at 7am to a little body sharing my bed and stealing the whole bed.

2) It must have been because last night, the kids slept in the tent. When Nicholas woke me up today, he said he couldn’t sleep in the tent because there was sand in the tent from the beach. As I rolled around, I was covered with past grains of sand from the beach- it’s the gift that never disappears.

3) Nicholas tried to pick my boogers and then when he couldn’t find any, he picked his own boogers and threw them on my bed.

4) Nicholas kept trying to poke my breasts and kept calling them boobies. Thanks Aunt Lisa and Uncle Chris because I spent seven years using the word, ‘breast.’ And one time at your house and he is talking about boobies.

5) My kids brought me breakfast in bed and it consisted of six dry bagels, a chocolate bar, three jolly rangers, a tootsie roll and expired white milk.

6) I was still able to play referee when my children were killing each other. Man, a day without being a ref wouldn’t be a day.

7) I was able to come down stairs to two sink-fulls of dirty dishes and I couldn’t be more thrilled. Oh and as a bonus, I also was able to unload the dishwasher. And as a real good kick in the fun factor, my husband came down to ask me why I did the dishes and told me that, ‘he was going to do it later.’

8) My kids asked me for something and when I said no, they so lovingly called me dumb. Do you have a death wish kids? I brought you into this world and I can take you out. Yes, I am old enough to use this cliche.

9) You know it’s mother’s day when one child hangs on you and repeatedly asks the same question in that whiny voice. Is it really mother’s day or just another typical Sunday? Why use labels?

10) You know it’s mother’s day when your in-laws give you a beautiful potted plant that you swear, much like the last seventeen years, that you will plant. And deep down in your heart, you know that plant will perish between the gutter and the stoop. This is why I can’t have nice things.

Until next time,

Happy Sunday, err, I mean Mother’s day to all those women out there. Whether you are a mentor, a fur baby mama or a mom to small humans, you mean everything to someone. 💗