Please Come Back

His look of love makes me feel secure.

He softly, slowly kisses my forehead.

His gentle caress leaves me wanting more.

My happiest day was the day we wed.


Suddenly, he’s cruelly ripped from my arms.

The Monkey drags him, kicking and screaming.

Happened so fast, guess I missed the alarms.

Watching him go, I feel tears streaming.


My love’s gone.  Here’s a stranger with his face.

His heart now dark, his anger rends my soul.

His nasty words I wish I could erase.

This vile Monkey is out of control.


I ache for my husband and miss him so.

He’ll come back, but he’ll leave again, I know.

Categories: Borderline Personality Disorder, BPD, Family, Healing, Marriage, Poetry | Tags: , | Leave a comment

My Choice

Crazy Jay and I got into it a little last night.  Overreaction on his part led to overreaction on my part until it was a much bigger mess than it needed to be.  I’m trying not to be upset at myself over my part in the fight and continued escalation.  The situation is passed, so there is no sense in me brooding over it all day, and making myself feel worse.  I have assessed the situation, and decided what I need to do differently in the future.  I am not beating myself up, but finding a lesson in this experience.

I have been feeling a little down today because of last night, and then having no contact with Jay this morning.  I wrote down my affirmation of the day on a sticky note and placed it on my desk.  Every time I want to feel sorry for myself, or angry at Crazy Jay, or angry at MYSELF, I repeat the affirmation at least once.

“I am the only power in my world, and I create a peaceful, loving, joyful, fulfilling life.” 

No matter what happens, no matter who says or does what to me, I am the one who decides how I feel, and what I want to focus on.  I do not want a sub par day, thinking about the fight from the night before.  This is the only moment I can live in, and I choose to make it wonderful.

Categories: Borderline Personality Disorder, BPD, Healing, Marriage, Relationships, Thoughts | Tags: , , , | 7 Comments


I’m starting to think that I’m not cut out to be in any kind of personal relationship with any person (dogs are ok!).  This is problematic as I’ve been married for the past 10 years.  I can interact with people on a professional level, and I can interact with the check-out girl at Walmart.  Other than that, no one should come near me.  I do not know how to have an interpersonal relationship.  I didn’t have any good examples growing up of how healthy people treat each other.  I don’t know how to talk to people without being harsh, demanding, negative, and instructive.  I’m told I treat people close to me like employees.  Though the people I work with think I’m sweet and quiet LOL.  I don’t know how to be open and honestly express my feelings, and what I want, so I come off as sneaky and manipulative.  I don’t know how to show affection or be loving, so I come off as cold and uncaring.  I don’t know how to have a conversation without offending or being offended, so I tend to keep my mouth shut, which makes me seem withdrawn and aloof.  I come off ok on paper or through email.  Of course, it takes me more time than most to compose an email.  I read over it numerous times to make sure it says what I want, and that I am not coming off in an offensive manner.  Too bad that doesn’t work in life or in real time.

Crazy Jay and I have had various marital issues throughout the ten years we’ve been together.  I used to think the problems were all his.  It wasn’t until he and I sobered up a few years ago that I realized a lot of the problems we have are coming from ME.  I don’t want to end my marriage.  Not at all.  Not even close.  I just wish I could snap my fingers and change the old tapes that keep running through my head.  I notice some of what I am doing, but still probably not everything.  I am told all the time that I am doing and saying things that I don’t think I’m doing or saying.  I have a hard time wrapping my mind around something that I absolutely do NOT think I’m doing when the person accusing me is crazier than I am.  Then again, what he says makes sense.

I really do not know what to do.  I am seeing a therapist, and going through a couple books.  I am trying to change as best I can, but it is slow going.  REALLY slow going.  It seems that no matter what I do that I think is right, and no matter how hard I try to do and say the right thing, I am always wrong.  I try “A”, and am told I need to do “B”.  I do “B”, and then find out that I’m not doing “B” right.  Or, I can do something “technically” right, but because I do not seem to have the appropriate emotional response or feeling to put behind it, I’m wrong again.

I think part of my problem is that I don’t have any good emotional feelings to put behind my actions, making everything seem forced and hollow.  I feel so numb and beaten down by life, I don’t have a clue as to how to show the emotion.  Not to mention that, a lot of the time, I’m not even FEELING the emotion I should be feeling.  I don’t have soft or warm and fuzzy feelings, so I can’t act on them.  I don’t even know how to express what I AM feeling.  Every time I try to talk about what I am thinking, feeling, or what is going on in my head, it comes out all wrong.  I come off as complaining and accusatory, though I don’t know how that happens when I am only talking about myself and not another person.  I know that I have stopped expressing myself because it always starts a fight.  It doesn’t even feel worth it.  It seems it would be better for me to suffer in silence and try to deal with things on my own than cause any more trouble.

Things really do feel hopeless sometimes, though I know that they’re not.  It seems that when I don’t try to amend my behavior, I am wrong and that causes a lot of problems.  However, when I DO try to amend my behavior, I am still wrong, and still causing a lot of problems.  I feel like there’s no point in trying.  Why add failure and frustration to my already negative feelings?  If I try and am still wrong, why bother trying?  Why turn myself into a failure?  I feel like I am at an impasse, and I don’t know how to get around it.  This life is exhausting me.

Categories: Borderline Personality Disorder, BPD, Depression, Friendship, Health, Marriage, Mental Illness, Personal, Relationships, Thoughts | 2 Comments

Reaching Out to Little Meg

Crazy Jay and I met with our therapist last night.  I’ve been calling her “new age therapist”, or something like that.  I think I’m going to change to “unconventional”, instead.  Anyway, we were talking about how a lot of the issues Jay and I both have now are a result of things done to us throughout childhood.  Unconventional Therapist was telling us that we need to go back and heal our inner child so that our adult selves can be healed.  Now, this is the kind of thing that I used to think was complete B.S.  “Heal your inner child”?  Gimme a break!!  What kind of mumbo-jumbo is that?  Just be an adult and deal with this!!

Of course, that could be (and probably is) the voice of the fuckers who raised me.  They didn’t believe in therapy.  They weren’t convinced of the legitimacy of They looked down on people with mental disorders, telling me that if I was depressed, it’s because I “wasn’t trusting God enough”.  That’s nice.  And so helpful.  Way to make a person who already feels shitty into even MORE of a failure.

Moving on…

I think Unconventional Therapist is absolutely right that Jay and I need to heal our inner child.  I mean, the way we react to things now is directly related to our experiences in childhood.  Jay tells me all the time he feels like a financial burden, even though I keep telling him to shut his whore mouth.  I have never thought of him as a burden, and I hope I don’t ACT like I think he’s a burden.  It clicked for us last night, though, that Jay’s father always made money an issue when Jay was growing up.  His father was constantly talking about how much things that Jay needed cost.  No wonder he now sees that he is using money and not putting any in the kitty, so he equates that with being a burden.

My distaste of being touched stems from my childhood sexual abuse.  I feel hands on me now and essentially think I am a child, being abused and touched against my will.  Of course, that is not a conscious thought, but that is why I don’t like hands on me now.  The thoughts, feelings and ideas we have reinforced as children come out when we’re adults.  I have so many more examples of how things in childhood shape my thoughts and actions now, but I think I’ve made my point.

Jay told Unconventional Therapist that he didn’t know how to heal his inner child.  That he didn’t even know what this looked like.  I’ve had several weeks to digest the “heal your inner child” thing, but this may be the first time Jay tried to apply it to himself.  I told him that his inner child and my inner child (Little Jay and Little Meg) should have a play date this week.  Do something childlike and silly.  I suggested going to a playground and swinging.  The teeter-tooter would be fun, too!  Unconventional Therapist suggested we may like to try some art projects since we both thought coloring in coloring books would be enjoyable.  Art projects may be too lofty of a goal, but I could sure mess around with some Play-Dough!!

This week Jay and I are both going to focus on “going back” and taking care of Little Jay and Little Meg.  Unconventional Therapist said our goal is to “go back”, “pick up” our little inner selves, and tell him or her that we will protect them.  That we are there to take care of them.  We aren’t terribly sure how to attempt that quite yet, but apparently the first step is doing activities our inner child would enjoy…hence the play date.  It was also suggested that we go to the children’s section of the library and check out some kid books, but then that would entail brushing elbows with ACTUAL children.

I’m looking forward to letting out Little Meg.  I think this could be fun.  It will be nice to focus on small enjoyable activities throughout the day instead of the many stresses of life.


Categories: Anxiety, Borderline Personality Disorder, BPD, Child Abuse, Daily Life, Depression, Marriage, Mental Illness, PTSD, Stress | 9 Comments


Sometimes I wish I was the only one to have to deal with me.  The only one to be affected by all the fucked up parts of me.  I wish I didn’t have to see what I do to the one person who loves me.  I think sometimes how nice it would be to be alone, so I don’t have to be the one to cause others hurt, anger, and frustration.  It would be nice to be on my own, and deal with my issues when it’s just me that will be hurt.  When there isn’t pressure for me to change immediately, even though I can’t.  When doing the best I can do is good enough.  I wish I didn’t have the responsibility of caring for another’s feelings.  Of having to meet another’s needs.

On the other hand, I can’t imagine going through this alone.

Categories: Abuse, Anger, Anxiety, Borderline Personality Disorder, BPD, Child Abuse, Depression, Marriage, Sexual Abuse, Thoughts | 4 Comments


Crazy Jay’s and my TEN YEAR wedding anniversary was a couple weeks ago.  We were able to spend five days renting a guest house on a 60 acre farm in Berkeley Springs WV.  The farm was named Sunset Mountain Farm and had INCREDIBLE views of the mountains and…you guessed it!  Sunsets!


It was a BEAUTIFUL place to go.  There were two ponds on the property, and we had five days of gorgeous weather.  Mayo liked the water, too!!

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I found that I really enjoy kayaking, but I won’t post a picture of that.  LOL  We went fishing, and discovered the stupidest fish imaginable!  They got caught with lures!!  FAKE WORMS!!!!  LOL  I guess it’s a normal thing, but I was just cracking up over it.  Jay caught several fish, and I caught a bass.  I’m told that catching a bass is better than the perch or sunfish Jay caught.  Bwa-ha-ha!!  I used BROWNIES as bait, much to Jay’s dismay.

We took a walk through the woods, and found numerous MONSTROUS-sized ant hills.  They were probably three to four FEET in diameter!!  HUGE!!!!!!  We also cooked on the grill outside a few times.  I love reasons to eat A1 Sauce!  Inside the guest house, there was a really pretty stone fire place.  Jay built an AWESOME fire and kept it going all night.


Jay and I don’t have many pictures of ourselves together.  We aren’t very often around other people to get pictures taken of ourselves.  There is one picture of us that is really good.  It was taken a few years ago at Thanksgiving.  Both of us mistakenly deleted the original picture from our computers/emails.  The only copy we have was printed off using a desktop printer and just regular printing paper.  It had been covered with clear tape in an attempt to try and preserve the only remaining copy.  For my anniversary present, Jay took the crappy copy of the picture to some photo shop and had it reproduced, and printed in LARGE size so we can hang it on the wall.  We also got a jpeg copy to keep on the computer.  This was such an amazing gift!!  I told Jay I would rather he not buy me something, but create/compile something sentimental.  After all, not many people make it to ten years!!  We have had our problems over the years, and he and I are working on issues separately and together, but I would marry him all over again, given the chance!!

Thanksgiving 2011 (1)

Categories: Borderline Personality Disorder, BPD, Life, Marriage, Mental Illness, Relationships, Travel | Tags: , , | 16 Comments

The Aftermath of My First Flashback

I had my first flashback of sexual abuse/assault/attack last night.  It was horrible.  I’m still shaken up from it.  Maybe I’ll write about it later.  I just don’t know.  I could barely tell Jay about it.

Speaking of Jay, I would like to retract my blog from yesterday, where I said I don’t feel loved or like I matter.  Things have been rough off and on lately with us.  Plus, I have borderline personality disorder.  You know, feeling things too much and all that black and white bullshit.  I do sometimes feel like I don’t matter as much as I’d like to, but, after last night, I definitely feel loved.

While I was lying on the bed, sobbing and crying, feeling like I had just been raped, Jay had his arms around me.  Tight.  He was hanging on to me to let me know he was there for me.  He kept telling me how much he loved me, and that I hadn’t done anything wrong, and it wasn’t my fault.  He was absolutely perfect and exactly what I needed after experiencing that flashback.  I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t been there.

Categories: Abuse, Anger, Anxiety, Borderline Personality Disorder, BPD, Child Abuse, Dissociation, Marriage, Mental Illness, Sexual Abuse | 3 Comments

For Jay

I miss Jay.  These songs are dedicated to him.  I hope he comes back.  The monkey has totally taken over his body.



Categories: Bipolar, Borderline Personality Disorder, BPD, Friendship, Marriage, Relationships, Sad | 1 Comment

The Monkey

I don’t like going home anymore.  I would much prefer to be at work.  I left for work this morning around 6:30, and I’ve been staying late just to avoid being at home.  To avoid being around Crazy Jay’s house guest.  If anyone’s read his blog, you know that he says there’s a “monkey” that takes control and makes him crazy.  Makes his mind race.  Makes him sad.  Makes him mad.  Basically all around fucks with him.  Jay is gone.  The monkey has been living in my house for the past couple weeks, and I hate it.  I hate that fucking monkey.

Yesterday, I went to see Jay’s and my joint therapist.  I’m actually glad that we’re both going to go see her.  We’ve seen her separately, and we’ve seen her together.  Since Jay is her patient, too, I don’t have to worry about spending half the session defending the fact that I’m still with him.  I don’t have to worry about thinly veiled attempts to tell me I would be happier without him.  I mean, I know things are especially bad NOW, but, like the Buckcherry song goes, “it’s not like we don’t ever get along.”  I know it’s bad now, but I know it will get better…and then worse, and then better, and then worse.  LOL  It doesn’t matter, though, because I’m in it for the long haul.

Back to the therapist.  I went to see her to try and get some insight as to how I should behave when the monkey comes to stay.  The monkey does not allow me to show emotion that might make it feel badly.  I cannot be upset, sad, hurt, irritated…basically anything other than happy and agreeing.  I have to watch every little thing I say.  The monkey has an extensive past filled with many many hurts.  The wrong word will bring up those old feelings.  As I’m watching what I say, though, I have to make sure not to appear withdrawn.  The monkey doesn’t like that either.  I must be properly responsive, but in a kind, gentle way, and never disagree, no matter what it’s about.  Even if I am correcting straight up facts, that is unacceptable to the monkey.  It makes the monkey feel like I’m disrupting his “happy” mood, and trying to insert a hard dose of reality.

When the monkey becomes angry if any of the above happens (or whatever sets him off that time), it feels it’s acceptable to lash out at me.  Screaming at me about what I’ve done.  Telling me over and over that I need to be different.  Bringing up all past hurts and telling me that they are current.  Telling me that I need to change this thing.  And this thing.  And this thing.  Telling me I deserve the verbal assault because of whatever I did that triggered something.  The monkey tries to make me responsible for its mood, its feelings, and its behavior.  The monkey believes that everything is my fault, and that I am ruining Jay’s and my marriage.  The monkey will tell me not to speak to Jay (or shut my “dumb fucking mouth”) until I can stop offending it.  The monkey tells me Jay’s and my marriage is over until I stop doing x, y, and z.  The monkey goes on for hours and hours.  Berating me.  Calling me names.  Telling me that everything I’m doing is purposeful to try to control and manipulate Jay.  The monkey follows me from room to room, never giving me any peace.  If I don’t respond, it infuriates the monkey.  It comes at me harder, trying to lure me into battle in the pit.  If I apologize for what I did (or didn’t do), the monkey tells me that I think I can act in whatever hurtful way I want and then apologize.  The whole “It’s better to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission” kinda thing.  If I lash back at the monkey, it becomes hurt and rubs in my face the nasty thing I said.  Over and over.  And over.  And over.  Basically, when the monkey is visiting, I cannot do anything right, no matter how I try.

The therapist told me that I need to be “an observer”.  That I need to achieve some kind of balance in all of this.  Of course, I know that I cannot change the monkey, nor can I kick him out of my house.  I need to be there, listening, but not being affected.  I need to know that I am not responsible for making the monkey happy.  I do not need to feel guilt for the monkey’s bad feelings.  It is not up to me to keep the monkey placated.  After the monkey gets its first rant out, it was suggested that I ask the monkey what would make it feel better, and then decide if I can do that.  I was told to stay more “in my soul”, rather than in “my human body”.  This chick is kinda New Ageish.  I took it as staying in the spirit vs being in the flesh (it’s a God thing).  She also suggested we print off a picture of our dog to remind us that we need to take him into account, too.  All the screaming, banging, and knocking things over that the monkey does are very upsetting to our sensitive dog.  I already knew this.  When she brought the dog into the equation, I started crying.  I feel horrible about what I go through with the monkey, but even worse about what our dog goes through.  He doesn’t understand what’s happening.  He’s just a dog.

When I got home last night, I tried to respond to things that Jay said, but not really say too much.  The monkey came out the other day when I told Jay I was “glad he had fun with his new friend.”  The monkey said I was being demeaning.  I never know what I may say that will cause the monkey to rear up and take over.  Things were a little tense, but peaceful.  Jay sensed that I wasn’t being completely open, but the monkey has made it impossible.  All of a sudden, things changed.

Jay asked me to pause the TV so he could speak.  The monkey thought he saw me roll my eyes, and said something.  Now, I do not think that I did roll my eyes.  Rolling my eyes is something I haven’t really done since I was in high school.  If it happened, it was not conscious.  I started to tell the monkey that I didn’t think I did that, and if I did it wasn’t on purpose.  Instead, I swallowed all that down and apologized.  The monkey accepted.  It didn’t leave, though.  It was quiet, but it was waiting.

The next time the TV was paused, the monkey accused me of sighing or huffing.  I’m sure I did make a noise.  It probably had something to do with the way I was laying, and then a sigh came out as I shifted to grab the remote.  Either way, I didn’t even realize I had expelled breath.  The monkey was very angry at this point.  I apologized.  I apologized again.  The monkey was on a rampage.  I don’t think it could even hear what I said.  When the monkey stopped to take a breath, I asked it what would make it go away.  What kind of banana do I need to give it so it would go off in the corner and leave me alone?  The monkey then started telling me what I need to change, and how if I did, it would go away.  I was more clear with the next question:  “Monkey, what do you need RIGHT NOW to make your anger go away?”  It told me I asked a good question and agreed to think about it.

I thought the monkey left.  It was quiet for several minutes.  I thought Jay was back.  I was wrong.  The monkey came back, yelling and telling me how I ALWAYS do this and this and this and this and this.  This went on for quite a while.  I asked it several times what I could do to make the anger dissipate.  I asked it what would make it happy, RIGHT NOW.  I asked it why, when it seemed that we would resolve one thing in the fight that evening that it would bring up another issue.  I asked why the monkey wanted to keep fighting with me.  I soon realized that the monkey was comfortably settled into Jay’s body, though, and was unwilling to leave.  As the monkey continued yelling at me, I slipped deeper and deeper into myself.  The monkey’s voice became a loud drone until it was tired and fell asleep on the couch.

The monkey was back this morning.  It showed up when I told Jay I did not want to snuggle in bed.  That I was hurt from the fight last night.  That I was hurt from the fight the night before.  I am always being yelled at and having hurtful comments hurled at me by the monkey.  When Jay comes back, he hardly remembers saying anything, and doesn’t see a need to apologize.  As a result, I’m left with anger, hurt feelings, and absolutely no resolution.  The monkey chased me out of the house this morning at 6:30.  He didn’t chase me out physically, but its words sent me running.  I was in a very bad spot this morning because of it.  When I left the house, I went to a nearby grocery store and perused the aisles looking for a glass bottle I could break up and use to express my emotions.  The monkey has let me know that I am not allowed to feel upset or hurt.  At work I can’t sit and cry all day, like I’d like to.  It seemed like the only way to express myself was to further mar my skin while thinking about all the things the monkey has been telling me.

I couldn’t find an empty bottle, though, and I wasn’t in a position to wash out a jar that had food in it.  I did not cut this morning.  I haven’t in a while, and didn’t want to start again.  I feel like the monkey gives me no alternative.  I do not know how to function with the monkey being a constant presence in my life.  I hate the monkey.  He makes me miserable.

Jay is trying to eradicate the monkey, but, in the process, it seems he’s unleashed it all the more.  He has increased the power of the monkey.  I know that it will take Jay time to work through things and finally kill the monkey.  I am willing to stay with Jay and love him until the monkey is gone.  I even try to love the monkey, but it is incredibly difficult.  I despise that motherfucker.  It makes my life hell, and then laughs about it.  It mocks my pain and tells me I deserve it.  This is not a threat to take my life, but I sometimes wonder how I will get through each day with the monkey.  It’s starting to seem hopeless.

Categories: Abuse, Anger, Anxiety, Borderline Personality Disorder, BPD, Marriage, Relationships, Self Harm, Self-Injury, Therapy | 4 Comments

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