It has been about 2 weeks since my strong suspicion that I have a personality disorder was validated by a psychiatrist after a lot of research, many tears and phone calls, I can finally say that I have emotionally unstable personality disorder.
This knowledge, can now be treated as fact by my subconscious. Having a professional agree with my self diagnosis is great for my ego, but the very fact that I know that I'm 'just' broken and not a shitty person has really helped me with building my self-compassion.
I can now give myself credit for having mood swings, I can tell myself that they won't last forever, I can allow myself to obsess over silly little things for a short while if i have the time and energy.
I can resist the urge to snap at MrB for standing on my foot (new sandals alert!) And then, once I had calmed down, I pointed out that I resisted and made a joke about my being emotionally unstable. It's ok for me to joke about it, woe betide anyone else!
Because, that is what I am. It is what I have been since I was a teenager, and having children has removed my spontaneity, the last minute things I filled my life with as a non-parent were my self-care mechanisms to fill the hole inside my chest.
Then I tried to fill the hole with Kit Kats. It didn't work.
Tonight, I have recognised that in order to be coping as well as I do (holding down a job and career for 9 years, a relationship for 16 years and being a recovered PND mum of two toddlers)... I must have some pretty awesome personality skills and facets to be able to do what I do (MrB is awesome for putting up with me, and always being there for me, even when he wasn't my boyfriend, he was and is the best friend I have ever had).
More ramblings, more raking through my cluttered mind.
Trying to be everything, all at once, whilst teaching two little boys how to be more amazing each day.
Wednesday, 29 April 2015
A Brief Note to Teenage Caroline
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