Gratitude Log: Open-Mindedness

In a recent session, I asked J to provide me with a writing prompt. She assigned me another list. Lists are her speciality, if you didn’t know. This one was about gratitude. Why am I grateful for my positive qualities? How have they served me? My goal is to use this prompt as a new self-love challenge, by creating a post for as many of the reasons I listed in this post as possible.  

Open minds. In the modern world, it seems like so many people cling hard and fast to their opinions. The amount of fighting I see in Facebook comments is evidence of that. We’re divided more often than we agree, and I think that’s partially because many people are unwilling to truly entertain ideas that oppose their own.

I have never had that problem. For a long time, it has been the opposite. To quote April Kepner, as I did in my original post, “I see eight sides of everything.” Toss me into a discussion on any controversial issue and what you’ll see me nodding along as each person introduces a new perspective.

Because to me, it all makes sense. 

Yesterday, I wrote a post about my empathy and how it has made me a tolerant person. Today, as I’m considering why I’m grateful to be an open-minded individual, I’m realizing how much the two complement each other. Open-mindedness allows receptiveness to someone’s thoughts or ideas, while empathy instills the capacity to recognize the feelings. Thoughts and feelings.

They are like the salt and pepper set of a personality, a pair best recognizable when seen together.

So, like with my empathy, I am grateful for my open mind because it has made me a person who tries not to judge. Who accepts the variety of perspectives. In our political world, that’s a gift. I may not appreciate the attitude some people bring to political arguments, but I am usually interested in why they feel the way they do. Because honestly, with so many people in this world, there is always the potential they will teach me something I never considered.

Speaking of which, I am grateful for my open-mindedness because it is what pushed me to pursue higher education. I have always really loved to learn. If being a student paid well, I think I could continue doing it for life. I always felt there was more I could learn.

My open mind is probably part of the reason I excel in psychology. There are many different schools of psychology, and it is all constantly evolving. I would never have been able to survive in this field without an interest and an ability to tolerate the fact that there is no singular answer to life’s questions.

It’s another reason I’ll be a good psychologist too, because I have the motivation to keep learning about new professional developments in my field. I’m open to knowing what has changed.

I am grateful for my open-mindedness because it makes me forgiving. Conflict is not my favorite; I may have said a few (thousand) times that I’m bad at the fighting part of conflict because of all the associated emotions. But the after part, where you make up? I’m good at that. I don’t stay upset or angry very long because I know that they had a reason for whatever they did or felt.

Even when the feelings do persist, all I have to do is hear someone explain their intentions to me and my mind immediately latches onto it. Rationally, I’ll understand. I can hear and accept their viewpoint.

This has helped me survive living in my family, where my aunts and uncles are constantly arguing about their contentious views. If I were not open-minded, I might feel like I fit in better them, because they are very committed to their opinions, but I also think that I wouldn’t be able to accept our differences with the same level of calmness. It doesn’t phase me anymore and I don’t let myself get roped into it, I just watch with curiosity, wondering what I will learn.

Finally, I am grateful for my open-mindedness because it ignites the adventurer within me. I am usually game to try anything new. It excites me. You can imagine the traveler within has been itching to break free for years and see what there is to be discovered out in the world.

Whether it be an escape room, rock climbing, or going to a bar, my open-mindedness propels me into new experiences. It competes with the social anxiety that tries to stop me from going by reminding me of what I might gain from the experience. When I’m lucky, the open-mindedness wins.

I hope that it keeps winning. I hope it keeps me listening to others perspectives, aiming to learn, forgiving them for their mistakes, and getting out into the world.

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Self-Love Challenge Day 31: One Kind Thing

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Well, here we are. The end of the self-love challenge. I began this in January and now half a year later it is finally complete.

This is going to be a very short and simple one. Unfortunately, I am again in a really bad and difficult place. I am having extreme suicidal thoughts that are consuming me. I wish that these episodes weren’t so close together lately, but every few days I tend to get swept up in the storm again.

In this moment, I don’t love myself very much. My disorders are doing all the talking right now. In fact, every time I start to feel even marginally better, the minions take over by reminding me of all the reasons I deserve to only feel like shit.  No, you must not smile or be happy. You are not allowed when you still don’t have a job or a relationship and are basically failing at all the important aspects of life. 

I have followed through on my safety plan every day this week. Sleep, exercise, meditation, writing, and sudoku. Kind thoughts wherever possible. Today, about all I can do is breathe and just be. That’s all I have the energy for. So I may not be able to accomplish all of the things on my list.

In that post, I mentioned what J’s response was when I told her all the things I was doing. If you even do one of those things each day, that’s great. 

That’s the inspiration. How will I love myself every day, even when I don’t always like myself?

One kind thing. 

I am not particularly great at self-kindness. It seems counterproductive to nap when I know I need to run, to play games when I could be writing a post. Sometimes, I’m not sure which of those is the kind thing. Is kindness pushing myself to do what’s good for me or is kindness allowing myself to do none of the things I really don’t want to do?

I think what is kind is what feels manageable. I’m writing this post, that was manageable. I’ll meditate a little later. I’m seeing a friend even though I don’t feel up for it. But what I really need right now is to cuddle the dogs and unplug for a bit. Take a nap. Listen to music.

That’s the kindness I can show myself. A reprieve without guilt. Maybe tomorrow I can show myself kindness through a run.

Value yourself by doing at least one kind thing for you a day. It’s worth the extra effort.

Self-Love Challenge Day 30: Labels (part 2)

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We use tons of words to describe ourselves. Some good, some bad. Some less clear-cut, dependent on the perception of the people you ask.

I use the words daughter, female, young adult, caucasian, heterosexual (mostly), able-bodied, spiritual-ish. These are all objective, not something anyone can disagree with. They shape me, depending on the other persons perspective of each individual label, and they all intersect.

Then there are the words I call myself. Labels that are so automatic, all it takes is a minor screwup and I’m battered with them. I read this somewhere:  “The brain is like Velcro for negative experiences but Teflon for positive ones.” It’s a negativity bias. Idiot. Failure. Loser. Pathetic.

These are the ones I need to remove altogether from my vocabulary, but they are the most resistant. Like a tumor that continues to regrow every time its removed.

I can label myself with emotions. Lately, I’m learning to recognize these labels, and say them aloud, as I feel them. On one end, there’s the beautiful feelings: Hopeful, fulfilled, proud, happy, comfortable. On good days, in good moments, I see these. On the other, the painful emotions that often lead me to suffering. Angry, ashamed, envious, anxious, sad. These labels are often co-occuring and they can be consuming.

I found this visual and it seemed to be a pretty good depiction of the two sides of the coin as explained by borderline personality. upward spiral.jpg

Then the personality traits. When encouraged to, I’ve used these words to in the past. Kind. Honest. Responsible. Empathetic. Organized. Persistent. Motivated. Genuine. Generous. Open-minded. Accountable.

You know what I’ve noticed? Many of those has its own negative spin. When honest becomes blunt or is perceived as disrespectful. When empathetic is regarded as too sensitive. When organization gets rebranded as perfectionistic or retentive. When open-minded becomes indecisive.

That’s what I mean when I say it’s all about the way you look at it.

I let the negative spin dominate so often, because I know there are two sides to each coin. I know one person can observe a friend and have a different understanding of who they are than another person does. I’ve lived my life trying to cater to all sides, to be an endless flow of positive labels while suppressing all the negative, both personality and emotional.

It doesn’t work like that, of course.

I’m learning, slowly, to accept the fact that a person can be both. A little bit of the negative does not does erase all of the positive. There is room to be both kind and responsible, but a little indecisive, for example.  A person can be made up of hope and sadness, even in the same minute.

If I acknowledge that, maybe I can remember to put the positive spin on the negative too. To take the negative personality traits I assign myself and find their other side. To turn selfish or needy into self-aware and willing to self-advocate. To remember that impatience often comes from enthusiasm and excitement.

People say that labels don’t define you. That labels are only for jars and boxes. Whether or not its true or fair, labels are a part of our society. We are made up of them. I don’t see that changing, because human beings naturally look to categorize to simplify our lives.

But here is the important thing. The labels themselves are not so simple. So many of those labels are moldable, which means so is the way we view ourselves.  You get to decide how your labels define you.

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Additionally, as a bit of a post-script,I used a the term borderline a few paragraphs ago. I do associate myself with the Borderline Personality Disorder label, as well as Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder. There is a huge controversy over the pros and cons of diagnosis, because of the way being labeled can both open doors and produce stigma.  You can read about my personal opinion of the label’s impact on me here.

Self-Love Challenge Day 29: Believe

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This is going to be a short post today, because I’m exhausted. I spent time with the kids I used to babysit, who were visiting for the summer. I pushed myself really hard running for the day. I also spent some time with my parents. So nothing in particular has me feeling this way, just a combination of activities. Either way, I’m going to allow myself to be tired and keep it brief.

When I think of words I want to live my life by, this is the first quote that comes to mind. It has been one of my favorites forever now and I think it is the epitome of focusing on the things that brighten your life instead of things than spread darkness. I don’t always enjoy a simple “be positive” platitude, but there’s something about this one that inspires me.

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The other day in one of my posts, I used the phrase my presence is my power. I read that when I was searching for affirmations to put on the cards I have in my self-care box. It has always stuck with me, especially as someone who so frequently toys with the idea of suicide. Despite everything pushing me towards an end, I’m still here and the knowledge of that gives me strength.
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These quotes both reached out and grabbed me immediately. I have always so strongly been a person who believes that everyone needs to be heard and validated. When you deny someone the opportunity to tell their story or negate their experiences simply because you don’t understand, you become a barrier to their healing. You effectively communicate that their problems are insignificant or wrong. You silence them. We need to live in a world where people encourage those stories being told without judgement, because it sets change in motion.

I was a child that loved Winnie the Pooh. If you’ve never heard this one, I’d be surprised. And I don’t think it needs any further explanation.

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loved these next three quotes because I’ve struggled so much with overcoming my rigorous expectations and the desire to be perfect. I can’t live with the parts of me that are needy and flawed.  But we are human, so we are all flawed. I require so many reminders of this.

Speaking of things that I’m working on, I left this comment on a fellow bloggers post recently, because I’ve been repeating it to myself for weeks. I’m so easily guided by my intuition that I forget that its often managed by a disorder that I can’t always control.

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When I was in high school, I talked to my psychology teacher about the issues I was having with depression. I will always remember her using this phrase, telling me I navigate around my problems. I had to go through them. She was right, because until I started facing my issues directly and really delving into them, I repeated the same broken communication patterns and coping mechanisms for too many years.

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Now that I’m working on “getting through”, I am constantly up against situations that test my limits. Stepping beyond them requires inordinate strength and courage that I’m not always sure I have, because I’m fearful of risk. I heard both of these quotes in movies recently (the first in The Greatest Showman and the second in Kung Fu Panda 3, so at least something good came out of watching that with the kids) and I think they’re perfect in addressing all the fears I have surrounding the outcome of risk.

The healing process is slow as hell. Sometimes it can feel like I’m crawling up a mountain, drawing fifteen pound weights behind me. What I try always to remember is that even baby steps are progress and no matter what, I’m still moving. We are all working towards different things and we have to have our own backs in that war.

Having your own back can mean asking for help by the way. In therapy. With friends and family. By taking a break or getting away for a bit. We are not burdens or bad people for self-advocating.

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This post got a little longer than initially planned, but once I started searching I couldn’t stop. I use an app called Pacifica to document my moods and reframe my thoughts. Part of the app is something called a “Hope Board,” where I can store pictures and text that help me claw my way out of the darkness. I had already pulled a few of those to have on my page here. After this post, I am going to go and add some of these, because I don’t think there’s such thing as too much hope.

There are so many things working against me day to day. Borderline Personality Disorder. Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Major Depressive Disorder. They bring storms of emotions like anxiety, sadness, emptiness, anger, fear, and shame. But guess what? I am still here, milling through it, taking risks, accepting my flaws, and asking for help. Trying to become the person I want to be. I know what tools to use to weather a storm. I also know that the storms always end.

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So if you’re like me, keep sailing. Keep weathering storms. There’s hope all around you.

Self-Love Challenge Day 28: Role Models

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One person that is a role model for me is the mother of the two kids I babysit, H. I say this because she had a difficult childhood and managed to push past all that and find herself very happy and successful as an adult. She has a beautiful house, a good husband, amazing kids, a lovely network of people around her, and has the means to travel and experience various adventures in life. She seems to be able to focus on the positive and sees her challenges as obstacles that she is motivated to clear.

A second role model is my now former supervisor from my internship. He is a professional and competent manner who approaches ever situation at school with a calm and clear head. I admire how well he knows the legal and ethical principles that we are required to consider in our practice. He is quite fantastic at the job he does, and I hope to be able to do the same.

A third role model is J. We all knew this was coming, didn’t we? I don’t know J outside of the walls of her office, but I think that I have a good sense of who she is as a person based on the way she practices therapy. What I admire most about her is her kindness. She has an uncanny ability to find the good in anything and can very easily reframe any thought that seeks to impose on that silver lining outlook. J is also very skilled in effective communication. Yes, these are the things we would expect of a therapist, but that doesn’t change the fact that I wish to take on these qualities for myself.

I also wanted to consider whether there were any celebrities who I really look up to and want to be like in any way. The first and most immediate person who came to mind was Kristen Bell. The reasons for this are so obvious with a simple google search.

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Kristen is so open and raw about her own personal mental health struggles. She has been a champion of mental health awareness and erasing the stigma. I really admire that despite whatever challenges she battles, she is able to project this goofy and fun demeanor whenever I see her in interviews. Plus, if you’ve never seen her love ballad to her therapist, you’re truly missing out.

What do I have in common with the people I admire? Like H, I am driven and loving. Things have not been easy for me from an emotional standpoint, but I haven’t given up. Like my supervisor, I have a good work ethic and am very organized. This will help me develop the same problem-solving competency as he has currently. Like J, I am kind and empathetic. I have the capacity to reframe, it just doesn’t come as quickly yet. Like Kristen, I am open and honest with others because I don’t believe we should be expected to bury our mental health struggles.

All good things.

I want to stop and make a point here that something I had to remind myself is that a person could still be my role model without being absolutely perfect. I was back and forth on whether a couple of my “role models” should count as such because while there were tons of positives, I wasn’t blind to the negative qualities they have too.

Because they are human. Humans have faults. That’s okay.

Too often, my BPD gets in the way of my relationships by spotting one or two small flaws in the other person or holding onto they have done that made me feel uncomfortable, confused, or irritated. It doesn’t have to be a black-and-white, all or nothing thing. I can really admire and respect most parts of someone, while also knowing that there are aspects of them I do not want to emulate.

This is important to mention because if I am able to remember this about other people, I should be able to remember it about myself too. Perfection isn’t the goal. It’s not a requirement to be a good or respectable person.

I have quite a few of the qualities of the people I admire. It’s a good place to be and I can keep growing myself as a person without the pressure of perfection squashing me to bits.

Maybe one day I will even be a role model to someone else.

 

Self-Love Challenge Day 27: Safety Plan

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I was in a really low place a few days. These are words I’ve written a lot lately, and they always mean different things. Sometimes, a low place is self-harm. Sometimes its thoughts and images of suicide. Sometimes, tears. Sometimes its withdrawing from everything and everyone around me.

The other night, it was looking up painless ways to die.

My future self likely wouldn’t be thanking me for that, because it would mean that at some point there would be no future self. Any choice other than the one I was making in that moment would have been preferable.

Once I got away from the immediate intensity of my emotions, I resolved that if I was going to allow myself to consider a suicide plan then I had to at least put my safety plan into operation alongside it. Take the good with the bad.

So even though I’m still combatting the inner voice that tells me that suicide is a worthwhile and solid option, I am combatting this with a list of positive, healthy decisions that I drew up when I was in a good mental state.

Today, and the rest of this week while I am housesitting, I am actively making a choice to engage in kindness and make the most of this mini vacation. Although being lonely can be a big trigger for me, I think there is something to be gained from having the headspace to think and function in a comfortable, contained environment.

I am making the choice to utilize the safety plan that I drew up weeks ago.

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So far, I have been very good about getting approximately 9 hours of sleep each night. I like to try to climb into bed around 10:30 and roll out of bed around 8:00. Sleeping in a strange house with two barking dogs does not always mean I’m maximizing on that time, but it’s a start. I’m doing okay with eating too, but I could be better about making sure I have three meals.

Coping statements and affirmations are a huge challenge for me in the moment, quite simply because I do not believe them. It feels like a waste of time to make these statements when I’m feeling low, because I feel like I am lying in a sad attempt to pity myself. Like the other day, when J told me if things were not okay, they would be soon and I mentally called her a liar.

A more accurate sentiment would be that my self-defeatist statements are automatic and engrained now, so any and all attempts to challenge them feel awkward and untrue. But that doesn’t mean they are, it just means I need to practice speaking kindly even if it is uncomfortable to do so. Making new pathways in my brain.

Say it with me now…

I cannot change the outcome of the job; I cannot change how I reacted. All I can do is move forward and continue to work towards the outcome I want by making kind and safe choices.  

My presence is my power. I am working hard on getting where I want to be. These feelings are difficult, but I can tolerate and cope with them. I am strong and persistent. It will not always be this hard. 

The release is its own form of a challenge, because the endorphins released from cutting are still the most rewarding in the short term. Running also releases endorphins, except without the inevitable aftershock of guilt and shame. I think I’m almost 3 weeks self-harm free right now and have I mentioned I’m up to running for 13 consecutive minutes on the first interval of my run? Replacement behaviors for the win.My goal this week is to do some kind of exercise every day. I always feel so proud of myself when I’m finished.  I am also working on releasing my thoughts in writing, because WordPress is one of the safest and non-biased places I have to say the things I would normally stuff down. I need to give my thoughts somewhere to go.

Plus, I went to therapy today. I don’t have to tell anyone here about how that can be a major release of pent up emotions.

Let’s talk about relaxation. I’m somewhat surprised to state that I don’t dislike meditation as much as I used to. Completing one 5-10 meditation per day is also on my list of goals for this week. I’ve been using the Calm app and I find the variety of meditations very appealing. I just finished the Winnie the Pooh series and I think I will be moving into a meditation on connecting with your emotions. It might help me with identifying them more proactively instead of getting caught up in the emotion tidal wave. On the topic of relaxation, I’ve also been loving having two super sweet animals around all the time. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to watch TV with a dog passed out on your chest, but it’s like a furry weighted blanket. Very comforting.

Finally, distraction. You’ll see that one of the options I have listed is sudoku. This can occupy me for hours, and I think I’ll spend some time on a sudoku puzzle when I’m done. My friends took me out for my birthday the other night and I have them coming back tomorrow, so they have also proved to be useful means of distraction from my job troubles.

This prompt was technically only about making one choice. J told me today that if I did any one of these things each day, I could give myself a pat on the back. I see her point, but the real choice here is kindness. Kind choices each day that teach me to value myself and keep me safe.

I think my future self will definitely thank me for that.

Birthdays and Mental Illness

Trigger Warning: Suicidal thoughts

Today is my 25th birthday.

I debated posting about this at all, because I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk about this again after getting into a long discussion with J yesterday. Truth is, I really don’t like my birthday.

I want to like it. I do. Honestly though, I can’t remember the last time I looked forward to my birthday. Right now, as I sit here typing this, I do not feel any bit celebratory or excited.

Birthdays are notorious for being days of celebration. There’s an expectation for the birthday person to have a good time. There’s pressure to do something, to be surrounded by people and feel the love. To feel special.

There is also this subtle and nearly invisible but very palpable idea that if you are special, other people will step up to make sure you feel that way on your birthday. Or maybe that’s just my BPD minion talking.

I don’t like to have to take control of the birthday planning. I don’t like to have to ask my friends if they’d like to celebrate me by going out or doing something else for multiple reasons. First, its a reminder that I don’t have a lot of people that I am close with right now to invite in the first place. Second, if I have to ask them to participate in birthday festivities, it feels artificial and more forced than if they bring it up themselves, like they’re coming out of obligation. Finally, when a friend or two inevitably tell me that they cannot attend said event, I feel a surge of disappointment that reinforces my perception that I am unworthy of being celebrated and makes me want to avoid asking at all.

For example, I have a friend who has routinely said no to birthday plans for the last three years. While she always has a good reason, namely family matters, I feel the sting of rejection each time. Like if I mattered more, was more special to her, she’d find a way to be there.

This sounds incredibly selfish, doesn’t it? It feels needy and childish. I am 25 years old, why do I need other people to rally around me and build me up and make me feel loved? I should be able to cultivate these feelings myself, I should be able…to want…to celebrate myself.

I don’t though. It feels weird and uncomfortable to be the center of attention, to have all eyes on me. In theory, I love the idea of it. Having people want to be there for me and make some grand gesture in celebration with me as the person of honor is appealing. Yet when I’m in the midst of it, I don’t know what to do with all the attention. I am overcome with anxiety about how to respond to others. I feel incredibly awkward and self-conscious, as if I will choose wrong, make the wrong move and those people will realize I am not worth celebrating at all.

Then they will leave. Not be present for future birthdays. Because of me and my innate lack of specialness. The ever-present BPD fear.

J and I were talking yesterday about how I have historically had difficulty with birthdays. When I was little, up until I was about 9, my parents would host parties in the backyard of our house. Both sides of my family would come, we’d have food, and they’d watch me open presents.

Like clockwork, once the cake came out, I would panic at the idea of being sung happy birthday. One year, my grandmother started singing and everyone joined in. Within 3 seconds, I cried, took off running, and had to be coaxed back from where I hid by my swingset. We have video evidence of this, because my grandfather would tape those parties every year. So being the center of attention was confusing and scary, even as a kid.

As I got older, occasional parties with friends took the place of family get-togethers. There was a shared party with a friend when I turned 9, where I twisted my ankle, felt physically miserable, and ended up crying in bed at home afterwords. A pool party at home. I remember feeling short of breath at my sweet sixteen and having a friend take me outside for air.

It wasn’t all bad of course.  On my 16th birthday, my best friend also threw me a small surprise party with our small tight-knit group. My 17th birthday was nice too. That was the year my two friends filled my room with balloons and my other friends had a cake for me. That may also have been the year another friend threw me another surprise party? And on my 18th, a friend and I that shared our birthday had friends over, where we had a paint fight and food.

What’s funny? I haven’t thought of any of those in years. I forgot about them until right now. It’s very hard for me to hold on to the positive memories from years past, but I struggle with this in general.

Anyway, I don’t remember a single year, aside from my 21st, that my friends from undergrad ever did more wish me happy birthday. We never celebrated. The last couple years, I have gone out with my friends from grad school. That’s been fine enough I suppose.

See the problem, especially with BPD, is those damn expectations. We of the BPD clan have ridiculously high expectations of everything. So even if I have plans, it never rises to the level of enough for me. I still always end up yearning for more, feeling like I’ve come up short in the birthday department.  Like I should have more people who care, more exciting plans, more in my life to celebrate.

So you see, the mental illness minions do not make it easy for me. I’d love for them to take the day off. I’d love to look at this day with something other than dread and ambivalence.

I even tried that a little bit this morning. Honestly, I really did. J had told me to try to find joy in small moments, to try to be mindful of the times where I could really allow myself to feel special and celebrated. And I did. My parents got me balloons and some nice gifts. The little girls I babysit wrote me a nice note and sang to me. I was feeling okay, even thinking about trying to have some people over tonight instead of waiting for tomorrow.

Then I found out secondhand that I didn’t get the job that I wanted. My best friend got it. I found out from my supervisor, who thought I knew. My best friend couldn’t even be the one to tell me. That was both humiliating and crushing. I am so discouraged.

I ended up crying to the mom of the kids I babysit, who was sort of helpful but then made a comment about something I’d done “wrong” in the past that sent me on an anxiety tailspin. I got home and agreed to still go out to dinner. Mostly to make my parents happy, because my mom gave up and told me I didn’t want to feel better when I wasn’t responding the way she wanted to her comfort.  The waiter messed up my order, so it came probably 10 minutes later than everyone else’s.

It’s like the universe is screaming at me. Give the fuck up already. 

Now I’m here, back at the house where I babysit. They’ve left for vacation today and I’m on dog duty. Alone. Which is just where I want to be, because I’m in such an awful, awful place today. Except also not where I want to be, because being alone is very lonely.

I tried to cancel my session for Monday, because I honestly don’t see the fucking point. She’s just going to spout some positive nonsense about kindness and I no longer care because I know better than to believe her silver linings crap now.

J picked up on the fact that something was wrong. She wouldn’t outright accept my cancellation and told me she’d check in Sunday to see if I’d changed my mind. She also told me that if everything wasn’t okay, it would be soon.

That’s a fucking lie if I ever heard one.

This is perhaps the worst birthday I’ve ever had. I’ve spent most of it feeling morose and utterly defeated. Suicide has been at the forefront of my mind. Thoughts. Plans. It’s a miracle I haven’t found a weapon to use against myself yet. I’m about as far gone on the lack of fucks scale as I’ve ever been.

I can’t do anything right. I am a failure. This is as true at 25 as it was at 24. Why would I have ever thought one measly day could change anything?

Mental illness and birthdays. They really do not go together.