Letters of Pathetic. Maybe.

No Sleep. None. 

I want to sleep. Can I sleep? 

Can I be the stupid fat girl that doesn't sleep, doesn't get better, doesn't know if she can get better or if she can  sleep? I don't want to know why I can only sleep during the day - I just know that I can only sleep during the day. I want to see the Boo so bad. I want to see you so bad. I want to wake up and not need a scary amount of carbs to make me go. Not my he wants babies you know? He really really want babies. Little things make him happy. 

Me. I want carbs, sleep and kisses. Stupid trashy t.v shows cause I can't sleep make me want this. Well not the carbs or the sleep. I wanted those anyway. 

I might post this in my blog at some point. Maybe. Oh look I'm posting it. Look at K as she falls apart in a weak moment once again. The killer will be if I can stay awake long enough to turn this around and give it a happy end. 

Who knows? I have no idea why I bother. I was going to stay awake and just make my self shower and listen to music and go but thats a lot of going. I'm a flake. I'm a trashy bad flake who won't sleep. Doesn't sleep till she's so dizzy the world just wants to go away . I'm so fucking tired of being so wrapped up and lost in my own shit and self deprecation. 

Yet what else do I got? Bah. I'm sorry. I have no idea what will happen today. I'd call but it's still to early. With kids getting to school and people going to work and class. You are welcome to steal bottles from the house and take the Boo to lunch. 

I am so sorry that I'm this person. 

Maybe I'll sleep. Maybe I'll find a way to stay awake. Maybe the next moment won't be this. It's all about holding out for the next moments.  

Love me anyway. Maybe? 

I sort feel this song is like big me talking to little me.  Someday's Maybe. Right? 

Cost for Okay.

Sketch out from here to there, for him for her. My thoughts laid bare. Truth is hard. It hurts with it's sting and bite. Once uttered it can not been unsaid. Truth doesn't lay flat. It attacks. Ripping down walls, hedging the bets. I can be won with truth. I understand honesty anything less and I get lost in the camouflage.

Yet, when everything was happening in December and January my mother chose to keep the cause of what was happening to me unknown to everyone but the family and a few close friends. At the time it was her decision to make and I know it would not have been an easy one. I was not ready then to have the weight of everyones gaze and possible judgement on me. I found it unbearable that my family had to know.

In truth I still find it unbearable. Part of me wants to change my name, cover myself in someone else art, and run. Run far away from who I am and what I've done. So when my mother made the choice to tell people I had Aspirated Pneumonia and she almost lost me three times. I made the same choice. Until I wanted to break the silence and the stigma attached to BPD and make my map (blog).

Your story, your truth. Share it wisely.

Reputation is often all one really has. Everything else can be taken and I know as I admit to what I tried to do I blacken mine. As I speak the twisted truth a little more of the image I have spent years creating gets a little bit darker.

How do you trust the young woman who wants to die. Who had no respect for the laws of God and fate that she desperately tried to end her story, her life on December 27th 2009. I wish I could say that living was the best thing that ever happened to me and have myself believe that. My thoughts are not as often rainbow colored as one might guess.

It's scary standing up and saying hey I'm crazy and here is the crazy. Every day I battle with the demons. I hit breaking and then keep going. I have to leave a map behind for others. No matter what happens. I might not want to be here. I might try to rip myself to pieces more often then I'll admit too.

But for now, I'm still fighting. It's just an ordinary day and I might win, I might even lose. I've been battered, but I'll never bruise. So way-hey-hey, it's just an ordinary day and at the end of the day, you've still got to say it's all right. It's okay.

See that girl on the street, what keeps her from dying

Let the say what they want, she won't stop trying

She might stumble, if they push her 'round

She might fall, but she'll never lie down

Thank you. For standing in your own ways with me. Don't stop loving me anyway?

Freak out about the Reach out.

Today I started my campaign to change the world. It started with a page Facebook | Borderline. I started a discussion, shared what was on my mind and got a few comments that inspired me to journal. So I thought I'd finish with a blog. 

When I first started Borderline I wanted two things. One, to turn my journey into a map for others to follow. Secondly, I wanted it to be an anonymous portrait of a lost girl making her own map. That was a month ago. I slowly started sharing it. First on a unfortunately inactive forum and then to a few people who promised not to judge and now I've started a page and invited people on my friend list who I thought might be interested. 

I do worry that the further I get from my anonymous world the harder it will be to lay bare and expose this part of me. Don't lose me to a label. I know how hard it is to look past the stigma, the media's portrait of crazy. 

My name is Katrine and this is my ongoing story of how I kick Borderline Personality Disorder's ass.  Ignore the stigma, let go off the outdated data and join me as I rewrite what it means to be Borderline. ♥

I wont pretend that this is easy. Looking at someone else crazy and weak moments is highly awkward. There are so many times I open Blogger in draft with so much to say and my fingers veto. I'm still learning how to do this. Thank you for learning with me. 

What would you like me to write about this upcoming week? 

*Creative Outlets 

*Empty = Eating 

*The Girl I don't like 

*PPHP

*Medication 

*CBT the group mess

*CBT Workbooks 

*Other? 

This quest is blessed; your seeking destroys the obstacles on the way of God. Your seeking is the key to what you seek, this quest is your army and the victory of your banners. - Rumi 

My fingers are at your command. Just like I love you, anyway. ♥

Tracking and Accountability with Paint.

Empty days lead to a haunted brain. So, I go against the grain and sign up for the outpatient game. Such flounce just to say I'm trying once again to play by the systems rules. I have given in and I don't completely trust that it won't drive me completely  mad. I'm already being driven crazy by reality.

Wind and rain storm my window and yet I sit here flat and unwell. Rain offers such inclusion to the world. The other day I found myself walking back from the hospital. Rain running down my face. Soothing the burn from too many tears. The wind wrapped me in it's bitter strong cocoon. Screaming in my ear, "Hear me for you and I are real."

A junkies wake up call has never been so lovely.  

It had been two weeks since I had last seen Mccay the all mighty. I ranted, raged and used some wonderful analogies to explain where I was and how I'd been. He commented on my pressing need for help and his recommendation of a Social Worker. As someone who used to be a lesion between individuals and their social worker it's a slap in the face from reality that I currently need one. He also increased my medication and  brought up what he thought was the long wait I had for PPHP. I mumbled something along the lines of well they had called but... and left it at that.

Truthfully I want to give up, sell stock and fade away. I want this with everything I have and yet. What if somehow I can turn this story around? Half painted dreams follow me down the street and I can't help think, what if? Anyone can kill the goose when she stops laying golden eggs. It takes a stronger person to hold on and see what will happen next.

For the goose, for my trip down the rabbit hole -  I must try. 

I must try to find the tricks to keep breathing. Sell the fire so I can keep on living. Trade in the old for now. For when tomorrow comes I can learn anew. The real trick isn't selling out, but holding on. I just need to get out of the fire for awhile. Bitter, twisted, little me does wonder what it will get me. So far it's 6 weeks of PPHP starting on Tuesday.

When I first wrote this I had to stop. I could not carry on as I felt rage and fire burning up my arms. Spinning my  brain to agitation. My poor tormented head was screaming, "I hate this. I hate being trapped to a keyboard and a screen." I had planned to talk about hope. To share with you possibilities. Proof that I could dance without the pain. Instead  I was left with a bitter shell of a post. I would have left it up, to show what walking away and washing away the heat and pain can achieve, if I had thought of it soon enough.

I should stop here because I don't know if I can control the storm inside of me. The burning that attacks all reason. I didn't ask to be here. I didn't ask to be born. To live. To be made to carry on. Will nothing sooth my ragged nerves. I desperately need canvas and red paint.  I want to set fire to this place. To the never ending torment. I wan to watch it burn as I slowly get my wish and turn to ash. This is a nightmare I cannot leave.

Until I awake. Till I give into the voice bigger then mine that leads me away from the rage. He offers me a haven in His arms and when I let Him, He takes it all away.  I admit that I am scared. That fear makes me angry and agitated. That lashing out didn't get me very far but letting go of the fire didn't lose me words. Didn't lose the battle, or the passion. Most importantly, it didn't lose me. It did unlock me from the all consuming fire that had me in a death lock.

I know that I am not alone when I say, "The unknown scares me." Talking to my second favorite OT and hearing her acknowledging, heck - hearing Mccay acknowledge that it is a hard and scary place. Made it a little bit okay. 

Find all the truths you can. They will be your life boats. 

Tonight is a night I need lifeboats. I didn't have a chance to finish this /edited/ post before game night. For all the moments of aw and win and La being amazing. I was crashing and burning. I also had two thoughts I want to elaborate on in the future.  " I don't like that girl.(The girl none of the girls in Edmonton like)" and "empty = eating." 

I swear to you, my lost and dancing girl. This like all things is only for now. 

Love you, Love me - Anyway.