I just finished reading The Buddha & The Borderline, a memoir by Kiera Van Gelder. I can’t recall ever relating so completely with an author.
Dialectical Behavior Therapy
Buddhism
Already practicing mindfulness and meditation, though admittedly more often is always helpful.
How could what I’ve been experiencing my whole life be told by someone else? Different specifics, same circumstances. Over and over. Deeply painful.
There’s a Buddhist temple here in town. I’ve been wanting to visit since we moved here over 5 years ago. There’s no reason I haven’t yet, except for just not doing it.
When I was a teenager I was certain my mother had bipolar disease. I’m wondering if she’s a borderline. I wonder if she has effects of fetal alcohol syndrome. I wonder what pain she’s suffered because of her mental illness. I know I’ll wonder this forever. She’s too afraid to talk about it, too defensive, certain of harsh judgement, consumed with shame.
So many times I needed her to have comforted me, provided me with guidance through loving kindness rather than fear of terrible consequences.
Try as I might, and oh my god do I try, I too revert to those negative parenting styles when I’m stressed and out of patience. I’m working so hard on trying to get better.
The challenge of being who you want, who you truly are, can be insurmountable without something or someone mirroring back the possibility in you.
I’ve lived in fear for so long. I decided to say Fuck Fear when I turned forty. And I ended up moving halfway across the country. This is where I’m meant to be.
Anything is possible. The unexpected can be incredible. Just gotta take those deep breaths and keep looking for the light.
I can’t remember a time when I haven’t felt misunderstood by others. I have a strong suspicion it’s because I misunderstand myself. I’m terribly and unfairly hard on myself. I cannot forgive myself easily or at all regarding some things.
Intellectually, I know this is damaging behavior. It causes me to over-compensate with extreme friendliness or bitchiness. I come across way too intense. This has been made most apparent to me in the last couple years. I was puzzled why people seemed to recoil a bit from me. It seemed to me I was trying to my best ability and it was coming out all wrong.
In my depression, elation has been a raft. Except rather than save me from drowning, it’s an alarm to others. Most people don’t want to be around those emotionally suffering. Too much is, well… too much.
Self-awareness isn’t always easy. It’s a skill. It can be practiced and improved. Emotional chaos is a momentary panic. Those moments might last a long fucking time. I might smile too big or speak too loud or look at someone too intensely. My facial expressions will be misinterpreted, or more likely interpreted correctly and offend.
Once upon a time I chose to claim all this intensity as me just being a passionate person. I didn’t want to feel less intense in the bad ways because I chose to see it as a balance to feeling intense about the great stuff, too. I valued that in myself and if others didn’t like it, that was their problem. Except, it’s my problem. It’s not balance. It’s chaos.
I’m taking notice of this more often and adjusting. Mindfulness breathing helps SO MUCH! It’s not about cleansing breaths, although I do like to start and end with those. Being mindful of the breath is simply noticing the natural breath. How it feels. Where it moves into, through, and out of the body. As I take a mindful approach to myself and those around me, my perspective improves. Moment by moment.
just don't expect a fairly tale.
