Why I Now Dislike Birthdays

I recently hit a milestone birthday. I was not excited about it, but I was determined to make it fun. I wanted to throw a birthday party/get together at a cool restaurant/bar. My sister and I invited a bunch of people and had it published on Facebook. Despite people telling me they were going to be there and RSVPing on Facebook, no one showed up. It was me, my sister and her husband sitting at a big table in the restaurant. I was devastated. It took everything I had not to break down in tears. I realized yet again how unreliable people are. And then I wondered about these people I called friends.

Did I really have any friends? Wouldn't they have been at my birthday party? Am I too old for birthdays? Maybe I'm not a good enough friend and that's why they didn't show up. Maybe no one really likes me. Maybe these voices in my head have been telling me the truth all along. I am nobody, nothing, worthless, unloved, and unlovable.

I know that I stuffed a lot of my emotions that day deep down inside of me. When people had birthdays after mine, I secretly hated them. I hated that people showed up, including myself, for their birthday. I hated that I was alone on my birthday. When people invited me to do things, sometimes I'd make an excuse not to go because they didn't come to my birthday. I can really hold a grudge.

That day truly broke my heart and I'm having a hard time trusting people again. I'm getting ready to move into a new apartment with a new roommate. I'm terrified he'll find out how crazy I am. I'm also making new friends at work and actually spending time with them outside of work. And I'm terrified they, too, will find out I'm crazy. I'm afraid they'll hurt me, disappoint me and break my heart. Is it better to be alone than to have your heart broken by people you thought were friends?

Emotions can be blinding

You're driving down the road at night. Maybe you're making a turn or passing another car when their headlights shine in your eyes and you're blinded. You hope there's nothing in the road in front of you. Maybe you slow down a little; maybe you speed up to get past them faster. Either way, you're temporarily blinded and you freak out just a little. Your heart races a little; your breathing stops for a second. All this happens within seconds and then you're clear. No accident; nothing bad happened; you keep moving on.

That's how I sometimes feel with my BPD. My emotions can just blind me. I can be going along in my life, doing just fine, when someone does something that pisses me off or depresses me. Then I freak out and I forget where I'm going in life. I don't see anything in front of me; I'm just blinded by the rage or the depression. Once it passes, it's like it never happened. But instead of just going straight, I veer off my road of life. Then my life GPS has to recalculate my route while I go to the hospital, break up with a fiance, move to another city, or find another job. 

I'm hoping to keep my emotions in check. I've been doing well as of late. But, honestly, I fear that one little slip, one blinding moment, can fling me back into the hospital: broken, lost and confused. I hope I can just keep moving on.

An Introduction

I've never really blogged. I had a livejournal back in the day, but only because my friends were on it. And I needed my friends. I want this to be different. I want to be completely open and honest in this blog, like a diary that's public. I feel that us "mentally ill" people just don't have enough voices out there. I want my readers (should I get any) to feel connected to what I say. And I want to be honest with myself. And that's one of the hardest things for me to do. I spend so much mental energy pushing things down and away from my mind that I completely forget my past. I'll forget people I've dated, met, befriended. I'll forget whole spans of my life because it was too painful, embarrassing, depressing.

I also want something to chronicle my mental illness. I was diagnosed about 10 years ago with borderline personality disorder and major depression. Since then I've been diagnosed with anxiety and bi polar II, though that particular diagnosis has been debated, depending on the doctor. 

I've seen many doctors, psychologists, and therapists. I'm in the middle of changing doctors yet again. But I want something to note the passing of time, the changing of my moods, the improvement (or deterioration) of my life. And that's what this blog will help me do.