Knowing Who I am - the Crux of the Matter

One of the aspects of a diagnosis of Personality Disorder, particularly that of Emotionally Sensitive (ESPD) or Borderline PD, which causes controversy, is the idea that someone's personality can be fundamentally flawed or 'disordered'. There is also currently much discussion around the issues of diagnosis in general, not to mention the perenniel problems of labelling. Whatever it is called, or whatever diagnosis clinicians and practitioners seek to use in order to identify shared symptoms among those who suffer from PD, the diagnosis, for me, remains simply a signpost indicating areas in which my experience of the world may differ from that of others and help them to provide me with guidance as to the best possible therapies or approaches available to help me overcome my difficulties.

The fact that one cluster of BPD symptoms centres around issues of identity and, therefore human relationships, means that even the most basic understanding of myself and my place in the world, ie who I am, is problematic for me. My understanding has grown around this area as I have learned to observe my own functioning especially in the area of inter-personal relationships.

One of the key consequences of the invalidating childhood environment is to make me doubt entirely my expectations and understanding of the world as I experience it. In essence, the very fact that my emotional responses to pain, or neglect were, ignored, ridiculed or contradicted by my main care givers means that I cannot trust my emotional responses to the world. The problem is exacerbated by the fact that those of us with the symptoms associated with ESPD or BPD experience emotions at a much higher intensity than the average person. Fear, anger and anxiety are primary emotions in terms of helping us survive, particularly when we are at risk of physical harm. However, once again even these most primal of emotional responses have been distorted by the messages we received when growing up, particularly if we have survived childhood abuse, whether sexual, physical, or emotional. For many the intense emotions lead to hyper-vigilance, hypersensitivity and therefore, often result in what appears to the casual observer as inexplicably extreme reactions to everyday situations.

How I feel about the world informs how the world reflects messages about who I am, or who they think I am, back to me. If my emotional messages to the world come through a distorting prism, then the messages I receive back about who I am and how I relate to the world around me, comes back to me as a distortion - sometimes it jars with me, sometimes it confirms my deepest fears. So, I find it difficult to believe I am a likeable person, because even my parents had no time for me. If friends try to give me the message that I am likeable, this feels alien to me and I manage my discomfort with this by imagining reasons for them saying they like me - If I never check out my assumptions my ability to trust others will always be on shaky ground and I will not be able to learn new ways of seeing myself. In other words, I will constantly prevent myself from seeing me as others see me. Unless I am able to counteract the internal distortions by beginning to learn about myself as I am now, then I will continue to find myself in cycles of intense relationships where I try to mould myself to how I think I should be, followed by ongoing rejections which reinforce the distorted views of myself as unlikeable.

I have always struggled with statements which begin 'I am...', yet being able to complete these statements is an important first step in helping me to look at myself in a mirror which is not twisted by my internal emotional responses. I found this sheet from a website for teachers looking for ice breakers for the start of term. As I read through it and applied it to myself I found that I am able to fill in more of the statements about how I view myself, than a year ago. It is good for me to complete this exercise on my own and remind myself that the more clear I am about the 'I am' statements is a reflection of the progress I have been able to make in becoming more secure in my identity. This also reflects the stability in my current close relationships and friendships. It is so positive to be able to say I can measure some friendships in decades now, I've also never lived so long in one place since I left home at the age of 18. I am growing more secure in who I am and my place in the world.

Mindfulness and the Art of watching Foreign Film

It used to be considered slightly pretentious to enjoy foreign language films. I remember when I and my uni friends endured rather than enjoyed turgid epics of incomprehensible philosophy in the guise of entertainment, just because someone we admired had told us it was a 'must see'. Another three hours I'll never see again.

In the last couple of years though, we have been introduced to the best of world television and you know what? It's really quite enjoyable. I've also found that watching programmes in a foreign language actually forces me to focus in a more mindful way. I cannot multi task, I can't let my mind wander - at least not without having to rewind. I don't watch foreign language television close to bed time - it's too stimulating. If you really must know, a good dose of Dave's output is enough to push me over into the land of nod, or at least to release myself from the iron grip of 'TV drift' as I reach for the remote. Foreign language television forces me to stop using the TV as wallpaper and to think about what I am getting from my television experience.

Before I was introduced to mindfulness I thought that my television habits were a useful way to escape from difficult emotions. But when I considered how I was watching, I realised the sheer immersive joy I once experienced as a child had been lost. TV had become bubble gum for my mind, and gum which had long ago lost any flavour or pleasure. This reflected by general inability to engage with life at that time. As I began to notice the world I inhabited again, as my concentration returned with treatment, I rediscovered my enjoyment of film.

That was in time to take advantage of the rise in really good foreign drama appearing on our screens. In addition to having to focus on following the story, it widens my horizons. London, New York, Manchester, LA, they've become over familiar. I love being exposed to different landscapes - yes when nordic, they're bleak, but it's really fascinating to see that their doors open outwards - I'm guessing so the snow doesn't fall inside??
So here they are my top foreign picks:

The Bridge (Series 1 & 2) - Danish with brilliant interplay between the Swedish and Danish cops. Copied as the Tunnel in English - good but definitely lacking something.

Isabel - Spanish Epic and really engrossing historical drama based on the life of Katherine of Aragon's Mum.

The Legacy - Danish family drama - simple idea but really delivers - apparently there'll be a second series.

Crimes of Passion - Swedish about a crime writer (female) set in the early 60s - funny too - at times.

Arne Dahl - Swedish Police Drama - what they call 'gritty'.

Wallander - Swedish and British - Love both versions something just quality about both.

Mammon - Swedish political thriller

And currently I'm watching my way through 'Spiral' French - excellent gritty police drama - with female leads.

Of course there's the Killing but I found that my recovery started too late for me to jump on that particular wagon.

When I need to get really absorbed and lose myself for a while, I set the TV up, switch off the lights and prepare to pay attention to the subtitles!

From Riding the Roller-coaster to the Art of Gliding

Gliding is an activity I have long been fascinated by since I was child and we lived in the vicinity of a gliding club. In fact, I love all kinds of flying, I enjoy travelling by air, the smaller the aircraft, the more enjoyment I get out of the journey. I've parascended, zip wired and enjoyed flying in a helicopter through the Grand Canyon. Learning to fly is high on my Bucket List. Gliding, I think is a good way to learn the rudiments of flight, so I plan, in time, maybe to start there.

This past week I have hit some turbulence in my emotional equilibrium. It has come as a shock to my system especially as I have experienced a longish period of relative stability, particularly in what I refer to as my 'baseline'. Since early January my baseline has taken a dip towards depression, again. The symptoms are familiar to me. In the past it would have taken much longer to even notice this foundational dip, let alone take action to adjust myself to the change.

Initially the symptoms of depression and the consequent negative thought processes which have been part and parcel of my story for so long, have made me feel like I am 'failing' in my recovery. Before this becomes a cyclical thought/emotion dash to self destructive behaviour I know I need to take a step back and think more clearly about what is going on. This is when I started to think about gliding.

In the past, I experienced most days as roller-coaster rides. Massive shifts between negative and positive emotions happened in the space of one or two hours and back again, over and over again until I exhausted my emotional and physical reserves and ended up completely empty. Everything was out of my control, without me having access to any means to manage, direct or control my experience of life.

Today, I think, I am more like the glider pilot. I am still at the mercy of the 'thermals' of daily life. I cannot predict when the actions of others, or the simple process of being a human being are going to challenge me to negotiate a drop in emotional pressure. Unlike the experience of the funfair passenger, the glider pilot is capable of 'riding' the thermals, the forces which dictate the movement of the glider. In addition to having a vessel capable of negotiating the air pressure, there is a simple object - the joystick, which allows me, as the pilot, to determine the overall direction of the glider. Only if I let go of the joystick and give up on getting anywhere in the glider, am I in danger of crashing. Most of all, as that pilot, I need to acknowledge and use what nature throws at me.

I have never piloted a glider - yet, but I have enjoyed sailing in the past. In the same way, in sailing, I cannot change or determine where the wind is going to come from, how strong it is likely to be, or its effects on the waves around. I can, however, use the tiller and sails to negotiate my way through the water, making the most of the power the wind and waves supply. Again, I am able to determine the overall direction in which I want to go.

Right now, I would only be wasting my emotional and physical energy if I deny or resist the fact that I am depressed. In accepting that is where I am at the moment, I give myself permission to look after myself, to not try things I cannot achieve - for the moment. Nor do I need to give up on the hope of keeping moving forward with my life. This month, is not going to determine the progress of the rest of my life, any more than the glider pilot or yachtsman, are unable to steer their way through the thermals or waves - provided they use the tools and skills at their disposal.

For now the tools and skills I am using are Distress Tolerance, to cope with negative thoughts and emotions and Looking after myself physically (DBT PLEASE Skills) and using my DBT inter-personal skills to set aside some tasks that were causing me additional anxiety.

Above all, I am so pleased that the ups and downs are now less roller-coaster and more glider. The dips I am facing don't feel insurmountable. I have also learned that, as quickly as this storm has blown up, it can and will change - 'This Too Will Pass', as some of the worst moments in my life already have. I don't know how long it will last, but it will change to something else, something different, another part of the experience of life. I'm with Carole King - it is all part of the rich tapestry.

'Should' - My Own Personal Dictator

I have lived under a dictatorship most of my life. Sometimes, especially in the early days I considered it a benign dictatorship. Sometimes, still it continues to be.

The problem for me is when 'should' is the only voice I listen to - when 'should' dictates my emotional responses to events and incidents that have already happened and I have no control over. I 'should' have done this, or that. I 'should' have said something different. I 'shouldn't' have even attempted to do this or that.

Worst of all is when my dictator tells me who I 'should' be - if I were a different person, if I could have a different life then I wouldn't be suffering. I 'shouldn't' even expect things to get any better - at least that's what this little dictator tells me when I try to improve my life and end up facing disappointments - of course things have gone wrong I 'shouldn't' have even tried to make my life better.

For too many years I have lived under the tyranny of Should. Making me do things I feel uncomfortable doing, ignoring my own needs to an extreme as I seek to prevent Should's assaults on my mind and emotions after I have attempted to do things to meet my own needs. Living in the state of Should meant that I was constantly on edge, even after I had completed tasks or meetings he would be there running through my head berating me for failing. In the end I was never at peace, always on the look out for ways that I had failed myself and others around me. Always with the expectation that I 'should' have done better. Never once asking if ANYONE COULD have done any differently.

The 'How' of mindfulness is something I often overlook in favour of the easier to practice 'what'- but 'non-judgemental' is exactly the ally I need to help me defeat the dictatorship of Should.

It helps me combat the messages about how fit I 'should' be, what weight I 'should' be, how successful I 'should' be. Non-judgemental helps me to silence 'Should' especially in the middle of trying to achieve things like taking part in social events, or trying out new skills to help me change so that I can make my life better. So rather than a constant stream of Should telling me what I'm doing wrong I try to let go of judging myself constantly: 'You should be more confident, you shouldn't talk to people, they'll think you're weird.' becomes, 'I'm going to speak to this person and focus on what is being said - there is no should or shouldn't, it's just called talking to people - it is what it is.'

The thing about dictators is that they tend to shout loud. I need to ensure that the opposition voice is as strong as Should. Unfortunately, I've given this dictator too much time and space in my head over the years. That means me telling him where to go when he pops up shouting the odds and ruining my experience of life in the here and now.

Of course, there are times when I need to do 'the right thing' by others around me. It's part of the social contract. Otherwise I risk replacing 'Should' with his odious cousin 'Me-Me-Me'. Perhaps what I need is to develop the skill of discernment: 'The act or process of exhibiting keen insight and good judgement'.

An essential part of good judgement is perspective. Being able to see things as they are. I have found that practising mindfulness has allowed me to take a step back from the constant ranting of Should. I can see that I need to ignore Should when he tells me that if I had acted differently the past would have changed. So what? I can't undo the past, it has happened, it is gone, it has no power to keep me away from living in the present. No amount of Should telling me off is going to change the past - so why give him headroom? Similarly, no amount of him telling me that I should be like another person is going to make me a different person, so why pretend that he has any power over that either? I am who I am, I have lived the life I've lived and I am where I am.

If I keep listening to Should and his insistence that I 'should' be this or that, or that I shouldn't have lived as I have lived, or that I should be somewhere else in life, then I am naturally going to make myself miserable. It is time for me to silence him and to focus on doing that which is natural to me, that which is effective in keeping me going in the here and now, and that which helps me to maintain a life worth living.

Touch - finding my way back

TRIGGER WARNING: Discussion of Childhood Sexual Abuse

I don't do hugs. It's one of 'those' things - touch. I have blogged about using all the senses in mindfulness, but for me touch is a major problem area. I'm not alone: it is for anyone who has suffered childhood sexual or physical abuse. From as far back as I can remember, my sense of appropriate touch has been disorientated by the stinging hand on bare flesh or the violating fingers of those who are my most intimate relations. Where do I begin to make sense of intimacy if those who 'love' me most, who are my flesh and blood, swing between physical or sexual assault?

I have no desire to relive every stinging blow, or every violating touch, but I do acknowledge that my history of relationships has been marked by repeated attempts to make sense of the disconnect between my physical and emotional responses to touch. I have belittled myself in attempts to feel close to people, whilst inspiring the rejection I have tried so hard to escape - I mean who wants to stay with a doormat? At the same time, with those who genuinely cared for me and attempted to show their love appropriately, I found myself distrusting and disconnecting myself from enjoying moments of true intimacy where my emotional instinct could have worked in sync with my partners' desires for intimacy: who wants to be with someone who beats you up emotionally for the crime of loving them? Instead of trying to work through the difficulties of these relationships I ran from them straight into the arms of those who would treat me as 'I deserved'. In the end after so many years and failed relationships I came to the end of myself and have lived in self imposed 'purdah' avoiding as much physical contact as possible.

It is probably the most difficult aspect of my life's experience to talk about. It goes so deeply to who we are as people, to how we connect with the world around us. There is a need for those of us who struggle with BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) to connect emotionally with the world around us. Beyond that, though, to be able to connect with people and to be able to function within intimate relationships, we need to be able to construct an understanding of the importance and healing power of the 'right touch'. More than that, we need to rebuild the shattered sense of self which has resulted from our formative years. If I don't have a clear sense of who I am, of what makes me tick, what hope does anyone have who wants to love me? Anyone wanting to love me finds themselves on constantly shifting sand, because I am unable to pin down who I am or even whether I deserve my place in this world, let alone in their affections.

Those who fail to understand the importance of justice for the victims of historical abuse fail to understand the all pervasive and long lasting impact of such offences on those who have survived them. It goes to the very core of who I am. It takes time to rebuild my shattered self image. How do I find an accurate reflection of who I am, if my family, those to whom I am genetically and historically connected, were unable to validate who I am from day one?

In disconnecting myself from the world around me in an effort to survive the emotional fallout from my childhood, I have enclosed myself within a prison through which, even the most determined of people fail to penetrate. The isolation is both a friend and foe. If no one touches me (emotionally) - no one is able to touch me (physically). My need at the point where I can begin to feel again is to break these walls down so that I can connect at the deepest level with those around me.

Other aspects of my recovery and practice of skills which help me manage my BPD are in my control. This aspect of recovery, though takes the active participation and acceptance of another human being. One of my favourite sayings used to be 'I don't do human beings'. To me the whole human race was suspect because I effectively had been rejected from the moment I arrived on earth. The sense of alienation is not unique to me, many people with complex mental health conditions feel like outsiders.

For over a decade I was unable to connect with anyone or anything emotionally, let alone experience anything of significance through my senses. Now that I am able to identify and allow myself to experience a widening range of feelings and sensations, I feel that I need to be able to move on to connecting with those who I have allowed to be part of my world.

My steps towards intimacy have to be progressive - healing takes time and small steps I can cope with.

1. I started with a Hamster. I had been isolated for a number of weeks following a really bad bout of proper 'flu and one of my friends gave me my first pet since my childhood - I was 31. His name was Haffertee Hamster and I trained him to spend ages running through my hands, to greet me when I came home from work and to do other little tricks. Through caring for him I was able to feel less useless, as well as having the soothing sensation of a small furry running through my hands. In my childhood, dogs, cats and ponies were the only safe touches I experienced. That and the sensation of water on my skin - I trained for my swimming six days a week, twice a day - it was almost an alien cocoon, protecting me from the world around me. When I was diagnosed with BPD at the age of 42 I was badly in need of safe touch. I had rescued three cats, and that was enough for a while, then Smilla came along - I love her for her dependability and her patience when I make her stand and receive 'cuddles' - she is so big and fluffy I can stand and hold her for as long as I need.

2. I have allowed myself to feel sensual again. I love smellies, perfumes, silks, cotton. As a child I sucked my thumb while rubbing cotton and/or silk - it is soothing. Truth be told, there are still times when I suck my thumb - the sensation is still soothing. For a long time I tried to live my life as asexual - trying to block any attraction to either gender as I was abused by both. Anyone who has survived sexual abuse will recognise the belief that there must be something in 'me' that makes 'me' susceptible to being abused. I believed that if I stopped the things which encouraged my femininity it would stop any abuse - unfortunately, it didn't work because the desire to abuse another human being lies not in the abused but in the abuser, so sexual assaults from a range of people in different contexts continued up until I was 40. I want to reclaim my enjoyment of my body, the sense of freedom I felt as a teenager when skinny dipping, the ejoyment of the fact that I do have womanly curves - my hourglass figure is re-emerging from years of obesity because I no longer need to protect myself from enjoying my own body. I have learned to be confident enough in myself to respect my needs as much as I respect the needs of others. It is a steep learning curve, but I will keep trying.

3. I am willing to accept compliments. I am getting noticed again, or rather I am taking notice of the fact that I'm getting noticed! It is nice to feel that there is nothing wrong or sinister when a man compliments my figure or face.

This is another beginning. It is something that is central to my recovery, yet something that I could not begin to discuss with those in charge of my care. When discussing touch as an aspect of Mindfulness practice it is important to bear in mind that the long term impact of self soothe touch is incalculable when helping people without me having to reiterate the exact wounds I need to be healed from.