I am a private person, and do not share my thoughts and feelings easily; I do not share my problems very well, and it takes a lot to trust people with these things. It is not easy to even admit that I have problems, I am usually 'all right' when asked.
So this is part of my healing process, letting some of the things that have been in my head out: I don't care if no-one reads this, or if no-one believes this. It's not for anyone else's benefit but mine.
I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder about 12 years ago, my own black dog. She has followed me, nipping at my heels ever since. But for the most part, I have tamed her, until lately.
Last time my black dog had her jaws around my throat, I was in an abusive relationship. Between that person (who will remain nameless-names have power) and the dog, I became convinced that I was useless, a failure-both as a person and as a mother- and there was no escape from the hellish existence of being called a 'pet freak' or that 'I needed to be controlled' or that 'the only reason my children were not in care was because I was with her'. Even when social services became involved, it was still all my fault. I do not want to go there- suffice to say, my ex was a very good liar, and the world believed her over me, and I was treated like a criminal, while she (the abuser) was treated like a Hero for putting up with my mental illness, and caring for my children. Meanwhile, I worked nights, and saw only her during the days, and my black dog had plenty of chances to eat away my self-worth, just as my ex did.
Luckily, I found someone who saw past that darkness. Jane quite literally saved my life. I honestly can say that I would have committed suicide if she had not become part of my life then. (Thank you Jane, you will never know just how much you have done for me.) Leaving that relationship was one of the hardest things I have ever done;I felt reliant on her, had been told that my children were only with me because I was with her, and was terrified that social services would take them away if I was not- a feeling that has never gone away. I am still scared to be affectionate with my kids, still terrified that I am a bad parent, and that Social Services will be knocking at the door to remove them. She also helped me get past the abuse I suffered as a child, something that had haunted me. One of the best days of my life was when HE died. Even though I had confronted him about it, it was still there.
It was a long road, taming my dog was hard. It involved tears, hours at a time of wrestling with my own thoughts, learning to ignore the remembered insults that my stupid brain would send to visit me at odd times. But eventually, and with Jane's invaluable help, I did. I stopped taking medication, stopped seeing a CPN; I realised that I needed to get past this, not using drugs to mask the problems. And it worked.
It has been 10 years since I opened my heart and soul to Jane. Nearly 10 years since I got out of that relationship. 10 years of being treated like I am a worthy human being, who can achieve anything...and for the most part, it has been wonderful, and I have achieved things I never believed possible. Dreams of studying, dreams of degrees, dreams of happiness, they have all come true.
I'm not entirely certain what changed inside me this time last year, but something did. I don't know if it was the long-standing problems with my eldest daughter, or whether I just got mentally tired, but something happened. I have spent swathes of time battling to keep that dog from my throat, of not being able to stop my brain from revisiting those insults that made me believe I was a faulty, failing, waste of space and that I should just die. I started taking medication again, wrapping myself up in a medicine bubble, nothing getting near me, no emotions affecting me. For a while, it helped, but not feeling negative emotions was offset by the loss of positive ones, and I drew away from Jane, and the kids, and going to university, and interacting with society in general. So, that had to go.
I have been relearning all those coping techniques I thought I would not need again, and I am struggling. I have days where it feels too hard, and I just cry at everything (no really, TV adverts, conversations, pictures, songs, getting out of bed, my dog Tai being old, my dog Poppy being old, my other dog Saffron being mistreated by her previous owner, my children being unkind...the list goes on). I have had to revisit the fear of my children being taken away, when my dad's girlfriend rang them about my eldest daughter. To be fair, I hoped it would mean that they would see that Jane and I have been trying to deal with a difficult situation with her, and that there might be some help....but instead I feel blamed again, and wait for the doorbell to ring for social services to take my kids into care.
I have lost contact with my dad, the second most important man in my life (and there are only two men I would lay down and die for, my dad and my son) through the worst time I have had for years, cannot visit him, and he has his own black dog, which I guess means he cannot visit me. His girlfriend screamed at me down the phone last time I spoke to her, so I cannot even ring him...
So, here I am. Hermit like, at home most of the time, too scared to go out and mix with a society I think hates me, even though the rational part of my brain tells me that is paranoia. I sit for days in my bedroom, or in my attic office, working on a PhD that I use as a beacon of hope in the darkness, reminding myself continually that this means I am not worthless, that I am capable of doing this, that I am intelligent and rational and worth being alive.
But I can't find much to smile about, there is no laughter most of the time, just a black dog with its jaws around my throat that I struggle to stop closing and stopping me seeing any light.
I do not want pity, I don't care if you do not believe me. I know it is true, and this is part of me dealing with my dog. Maybe she won't have as much power if I show her to the world at large and I stop pretending everything is fine, when it is not.
