BPD, Mental health, Recovery, The Now - Healing

A trickle of positivity

Just a trickle of positivity, not a lot and I have had to self-isolate to get here.

I’ve been fighting a big battle lately, well for months really and have not been able to see any light.

I’m still locked away, I still have the blinds and shutters closed to the world, but I’ve taken a wee baby step.

Sorting out my Advance Care Directive and making sure there was a do not resuscitate in place was important to me. As was logging my dying wishes. Now that is out of the way, I feel better.

I have also removed myself from most online peer support groups as, for me, they were becoming too negative. The only words I could see/hear were “incurable”, “no hope”, etc. Those were not the things my fragile brain needed.

This was explained to my GP the other day, and she did her best to argue the case for my recovery. But I stubbornly sat there and refused to cooperate, refused treatment and said that although I wasn’t going to do anything I shouldn’t; although I wasn’t going to break my promise; I just wanted everyone to leave me alone. No more trying to fix me. I had had enough and didn’t want a future, didn’t want to learn how to make friends, and I certainly didn’t want a relationship or to get close to anyone.

Leave me in peace and let nature take its course.

Stop trying to save me because I don’t want to be saved.

Put your energy towards those in the community who want help because I don’t.

But getting those two things out of the way has made me feel lighter. And while feeling lighter, I was able to find a calmer and more rational place in my mind.

So I looked through my resources and found some worksheets on maladaptive behaviours and accumulating long term positive emotions.

I started rereading Linehan.

And I found a book with stories of recovery.

Quietly I worked on my worksheets. I thought about each question carefully. I identified values that are important to me. And I gave myself a few minimal and realistic goals.

I need to drop a copy of my Advance Care Directive to the doctors’ surgery – I may put my worksheets and a little note in the envelope too and make an appointment for a few weeks.

Only a wee baby step.

Only a trickle of something.

But a trickle of positivity is better than whitewater rapids of hurt and pain and negativity that have been threatening to drown me of late.

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