Monday, February 17th 2014

10:54 am: Annoyed. Angry. Aggravated

4:24 pm: Neutral. Numb. Empty.

4:44 pm: Annoyed. Pain. Tired.

0:35 am: Annoyed. Scared. Angry. Hurt. Ashamed.

This is only a tiny look into how a day goes for me. Up and down, like a roller coaster ride. With a real roller coaster you at least have the option to get off, I don’t. It’s like I’m on a ride from hell, on an endless loop and nothing or no one can seem to stop it.

The meds help a lot, my “rides” used to be much more intense and now it’s more “even”. I still go on these lovely rides at least 20 times a day but at least it’s less intense than before.

I have to admit though, lately I have been feeling REALLY fucked up, I’m starting to wonder if the meds are wearing off. I say this because I have a strange body. My tolerance for medication is extremely high. My doctor and I are both surprised that the Cymbalta that I started taking last spring, still works. I have had the strongest benzo’s and sleeping pills that you can think of and it doesn’t even phase me. Like, at all. I will just sit there, feeling nothing work on me. I’d take a Zolpidem and I’d be wide awake, I’d take 2,3,4, once even SIX and I would still be wide awake. And that number would have sent any normal person into a coma, or maybe even worse: death.

My doctor doubled my dosage in the fall after I told him that I felt that it was wearing off.So far it has worked out good but I can’t help but wonder if it’s indeed wearing off. I say this because I feel like I am slowly slipping back into this dark place that I used to be many years ago. A place that I told myself I’d never return to. And it’s even worse now because this time I can actually see and feel it coming and I am doing everything I can to fight it.

Something happened about a month ago. Something that really hit me much harder than I expected it to. It completely threw me off and that same night I gave into my recent “urges” to cut. So I did and I still am. I even found myself ordering an actual scalpel online, the ones they use in medical procedure. Then I found myself ordering big band aid’s and pre packaged alcohol swabs. Hell, I even have latex gloves! I seem to be approaching it from a “clinical” sort of angle. But I digress…

I wonder if I will finally be able to hop off of this endless ride some day or if I am destined (read: doomed) to spend the rest of my life on this oh so “joyous” ride. They say that BPD “dwindles down” once you get older, when you’re into your 30’s. To test this theory I asked several 30+ fellow borderliners in a Facebook group that I frequent, if this was true for them. Suffice it to say that it wasn’t really true for them. So yeah, guess who’s stuck in her own little amusement park for the res of her life?

Me. It’s me.