Back after a longer absence than I would have liked. The explanation, quite honestly? Feelings beyond words. We all know what that’s like. And I know that those are the times I should be most committed to trying to express myself and learn the ways of honest communication. But here we are, nonetheless.
One of the skills learned in the “emotion regulation” part of DBT is naming emotions. The theory, backed up by lots of studies (apparently), is that identifying, naming and expressing the emotion we are feeling drastically lessens its intensity. As an example, one study asked participants to approach something they were terrified of – for most it was a big spider (I know, ew). Participants who named and expressed, aloud, what they were feeling (e.g. “I’m terrified; I feel sick; I want to run away”) were able to go right up to the spiders, and, in some cases, even touch them. Contrastingly, none of the participants instructed to remain silent got any further than looking at the spiders. Interesting, right?
DBT also reminds us that naming and expressing an emotion doesn’t mean “figuring it out.” There’s nothing to solve, nothing to unravel. It’s best to have this expectation (or rather, lack of expectation); this way, if anything does get “solved,” it is simply a helpful by-product of healthy emotional expression, while anything less than a revelation won’t feel disappointing. Just name it, just say it. Even if it’s just to yourself, in your head – though out loud or on paper is best. Nothing is too simple or dumb, nothing is “wrong.”
If I were to follow this principle right now, my feelings would be:
a) Guilt. Biggest one. I full-on lost it over the holidays and am still experiencing the fall-out. I don’t live where I did three weeks ago. I don’t actually know where I’m going to live. For now I’m at my parents’ place and I feel like it’s all my fault for letting BPD me take over and re-enact violent scenes from my terrible, abusive relationship when I felt triggered. I hurt people who were trying to help me. I hurt my parents by hiding this from them for so long. I fucked everything up in spite of how much work I’ve put into this and I feel so guilty.
b) Shame. Ditto the above reasons. Having to go back into the arms of your family when you hit a rough patch feels awful. Not to mention my mental condition, which has been a shameful burden I’ve carried for decades – and now, thanks to my concerned roommate telling my family ALL ABOUT IT on Christmas Eve, it’s suddenly out there for all to see.
c) ANGER. Also related to the above reasons. What the FUCK was my roommate thinking?!? Logical Cat knows he was scared shitless that I would do something terrible to myself. Emotional me doesn’t give a flying fuck and instantly fills my mind with its own brand of “logic”: I kept this secret for about 20 years, even when it was terrifying – he couldn’t keep it for a few months?! Or think of a way to help that DIDN’T involve betraying my trust and opening me to this kind of vulnerability?! Grrrrrrrrrr.
d) Sadness. For all the lost opportunities to heal and help myself. For the people I’ve hurt. For myself. For all the pain I’ve been through and am still going through – maybe will always be going through?
e) Fear. What the hell am I going to do? Where will I go? Will I ever feel loved or cared for? Is anyone going to help me with this? What if no one ever helps or cares? Will it ever get better? etc. etc. Doesn’t help at all that said roommate hasn’t seen or spoken to me in weeks, thus feeding my suspicion that I’ve managed to scare off yet another person trying to help. 😦
So yes, pretty much running the full gamut here, and just trying, desperately, to cling to the hope that everything will be okay. Does that sound pathetic and helpless? If so, that’s because that’s exactly how I’m feeling.
But – and I am almost afraid to admit it, lest the feeling slip away as quickly as it usually does – something has shifted. Not much, but it has. I don’t know how to explain it other than in terms of progress that even in my worst states, I cannot deny.
For instance, I haven’t self-harmed – even though I felt incredibly triggered and off-my-nut recently; I haven’t given in to the urge to fall into old patterns and manipulate reactions out of people – even though I HATE this feeling of vulnerability and fear that comes with my roommate totally ignoring me; I have been able to really “be” with my emotions recently – not for long, and always with very painful side effects, but I can feel them; I have been doing things that make me feel better, not worse – I know that would seem stupidly obvious to a non-borderline, but those of you with BPD know how significant that is. Just being able to pick up a journal, art project, telephone, or favourite movie instead of giving into the urge to show everyone how much pain you’re in, how helpless you are, how unable to cope, etc. is HUGE. I kind of astonished myself, to be honest.
How has this miracle been achieved? A few things as far as I can tell. But that’s for another post very shortly… this one is long enough already. xxxx
Half of a Soul - Life with BPD 