Greetings and apologies for the rather long absence!
I’d like to say I’ve been living life in the fast lane or something but in reality, it’s just been a bit of a lull that’s kept me from blogging. I’ve said it before, but the problem with feeling “better” (overall) is that you really do lose a little bit of your creative edge (or is that just my long-term love affair with misery talking?).
Anyhoo, life’s been good. OK. Fine. Swell. And this brings me to one of the hardest parts of recovering from mental illness that I’ve discovered, one which many of you may already be well aware of.
Being healthy is really, really boring sometimes.
Does that sound unbelievably warped or ungrateful? I don’t mean it to. But it’s the truth. After riding the towering rollercoaster of emotional and mental instability, guess how it feels to take a safe, wholesome ride in the spinny teacups?
Sighhhhhhhhhh.
I am grateful that I feel as good as I do. I realize several dozen times a day how lucky I am to still be here, to be doing okay when so many don’t make it. But I just can’t shake the fact that part of me does have a need for speed, for drama, for unpredictability, for risk. Combined with poor mental health, that need turned into a million dysfunctional behaviours and patterns. In fact, without poor mental health, I don’t even know what that need looks like. Is it okay? Can I get rid of it? What the hell do I do with it?
This is what Karen and I talked about in our most recent therapy session.
When my terrible relationship (2008-2010, RIP) ended, the greatest loss I felt had very little to do with the other person involved. I didn’t know it at the time, of course. I was convinced that this person was my soul mate, and without him I was incomplete, and it was meant to be or I just wouldn’t feel this way, etc. etc.
In reality, what I feared and cried for the most was the conviction that nothing was ever going to feel exciting again. I wasn’t grieving someone, I was grieving an emotion – I was grieving being in love.
Karen told me all kinds of fascinating information about the brain on love. For example, being in love literally hits our system like a drug. And pursuing that high can turn just as dark and twisted as any other addiction. When I thought to myself that nothing would ever feel that good again, I was right in a way. I’ve often heard that heroin addicts are perpetually seeking the experience that their first high gave them – I knew I’d never recreate my first high. I thought, with terror and dread, of a whole impending lifetime lived without that feeling. Kill me now (literally), was my reaction.
The hopeful part: I’m very much in love now – with a wonderful, thoughtful, incredibly well adjusted and amazing guy. But I won’t deny that it isn’t the same. It’s a love that is mellowed (which is a good thing) by maturity, experience, wisdom. It’s rewarding in ways that my abusive relationship never would have been (obviously). Am I ready to accept that those things are worth infinitely more than the first-love euphoria? Yes. But I see now why I wasn’t ready to accept it before.
Whether it’s being smacked by your boyfriend, getting in raging verbal fights with people, cutting yourself, or shoplifting, most unhealthy behaviours are MASSIVE adrenaline highs – particularly against the backdrop of dissociation or numbness that characterizes most depression. They make you feel alive.
I’m actually shocked that this topic isn’t better addressed in any of the mental health literature or self-help stuff I’ve come across. It suddenly became so obvious to me: you can’t just take those highs away and expect to feel fully charged with life.
So now my therapy goal for the month is finding ways to inject some risk and adrenaline into my otherwise happy, healthy *cough* dull *cough* existence.
I’m thinking adventure-planning (for my next trip) and maybe a jaunt to the casino in the interim (IMPORTANT DISCLOSURE: I have never and would never spend more than $10 at the casino, nor do I recommend it in general. Know your limit, play within it.). Any suggestions?
Cat xxxxx
Half of a Soul - Life with BPD 
I have been sitting here for the past 10 minutes trying to come with something that’s not reckless or dangerous, and honestly I got nothing….wait! what about skiing? or some other extreme-ish sport that is safe. Like rock climbing. I’m not sure if that is really your thing but its about the safest i do to get a rush.
Thanks for the suggestion! I have never tried rock climbing but it does seem awfully fun – will have to give it a go 🙂