Memories returned very slowly over a ten year span. I was not patient but Dr.B was patient. There were several attempts at suicide, but mostly a lot of self harm. I didn't use a knife, I used the end of a paper clip and ran it over and over the same place until there was blood. The physical pain increased as I scraped. I liked the pain. Sometimes there were long scrapes, sometimes there were clusters.
One weekend the newest therapist was given the phone to take emergency calls. Stupid kid never would answer. Turned out he had never had a cell phone and had no idea how to answer the thing. He also did know there was a charger but he left it in his office because he didn't know how it worked. When no one answered my three calls, I first left a nice message. The second message was not so nice. The third and last message included yelling and name calling and foul language. I finally yelled into the phone and told this person he should rot in hell. Then I self harmed a large square on my wrist. DrB was his supervisor and boy did that young man get into some trouble. Stupid on his part because he didn't ask for help.
I learned a lot over ten and a half years. I have learned that sometimes I have to take life one minute at a time. I do that a lot. I still have the depression and the anxiety and the borderline issues that can ruin a good day in a heart beat. That's when I slow down, breathe, and slice the situation into pieces that I can handle. I had to do that on Tuesday. It worked and by mid-morning I was over it.
My life will always be this way. It's not fair and it's all because I was loved by my father and hated by my mother. ugh........not going there right now.
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