What is unrelenting life crisis you may be asking yourself? Well it is what it sounds like and it effects those with borderline personality disorder. If you’ve ever watched “Girl Interrupted” you may be familiar with the disease I’m referring to. Well I’ve been plagued with this since I was 14. Unrelenting life crisis is as described by Dr. Shari Manning:
One “bad” situation (many times not of their own making)
Inability to tolerate the distress of the situation
Leads them to make ineffective decisions OR
Engage in impulsive behavior to relieve stress
Makes situation worse
I am working really really hard to use coping skills to manage the crisis that are coming up in my life but getting sober in and of its own is hard enough much less doing it with borderline. My hope is to do this, do it well and thoroughly so that I may be able to help other addicts and alcoholics that may have “grave mental illness” because you CAN recover!!! IT IS POSSIBLE!!! If I’m going to be a statistic I’m going to be the GOOD kind. I have many problems beset before me. First I stupidly backed into a wall and busted my OTHER tail light so don’t have any working tail light, My phone is about to get cut off and I have no idea what to do about that, I’m feeling every single emotion in one day, I’m longing to have a guy friend in my life and can’t find a sober one to save my life, being a tom boy theres only things a guy can relate to and I feel as though I’m being PUNISHED for something, my health insurance has run out and clearly I am sick, I have no clue how I’m going to pay for medications, I don’t qualify for Medicaid because I don’t have kids, I sat in fiber glass last night, my real family barely talks to me even though I couldn’t do this without them and I would love to share this with them, lonely is an understatement. I could go on but I won’t bore you. I think you get the point. What is my plan for recovery? WELL I’m glad you asked. First I’m going through the 12 STEP Program! Such an amazing way of life and if we all lived this way the world would be such a beautiful place. We are not perfect and no one person can adhere to the steps perfectly but I do my best and I will try my best everyday. Second I plan on becoming my own best friend again. I once was. Six years ago, before the great darkness. Before I lost Mariah and experienced the first great loss in my life. Before I started to get emotionally abused. I was truly in love with myself. I stayed up late reading “Brave New World” and the “Dune” series. I ran everyday. I did yoga. I meditated multiple times a day. I didn’t smoke NEARLY as much. I listened to music more, and probably most importantly I JOURNALED. Why I don’t do that anymore I have no idea. I will never be the SAME Katie again but what I want to do is read the Tao, I want to learn Thai Chi, I want to go camping ALONE, I want to run again and feel the freedom and release of my feet hitting pavement, I want to get back to my mat and do yoga again and eventually teach in rehabs, I want to quit smoking, I want to get a job and not just any job but something I’m passionate about and something that HELPS my community and those around me. I want to spread joy and happiness. I want to serve others. I want to travel the world and hike trails all over! And most importantly, I want and NEED to write and JOURNAL. I can’t tell you how healthy that is. I want to start making better healthier discussions. DPL stopping using me back in February and thats still relatively fresh, I’m not really looking to hop right into a relationship, I’m more focused on my well being and my self care. I had something happen to me and well it threw me for quite a loop. I don’t know how to put it words. I miss my friend from the hospital. My friend that got me to where I am now. The friend that got me on the road I’m on today. The friend that got me to where I can now look in the mirror and say “I love you, you are worth it.” He, he is the only guy friend I have and I’m not allowed to talk to him because I’m a girl. I remember staying up from the time we got meds at 8 until 11:30 or later just me and him talking. I softly cried to him. I will never forget just looking at him and telling him how desperate I felt. The desperation of a drowning man. I told him how I felt like no one understood me, and that I thought I was destined to be alone the rest of my life and that no one would ever love me the way I appreciated myself. You see, I KNOW my worth, I don’t look to others for validation, I know my worth. No one else does. But HE DID. He told me how he found love and told me that God had a plan and to just listen to my heart. He told me his story. I knew then I needed to get sober. He saved my life. I owe him my life.
Growing is hard no matter if its in your bones or in your soul! Its going to be uncomfortable but oh so worth it! I am going to be such a stronger me and be able to handle all these unrelenting life crisis soooo much better and I’m going to be able to help people with my story. I’m going to have tough skin from being lonely. Sobriety isn’t always easy but it is ALWAYS worth it.
For the first time in my life I understand the word sober. These past fourteen days have taught me more than the last twenty eight years. Believe it or not. I am probably the friendliest person you could ever meet and always will be. That will never change but I have way tougher skin now and I know how to put up appropriate boundaries. And for the first time in probably a year I’m looking in the mirror and any reflective surface I can and smiling at MYSELF instead of just others. I’m appreciating my own beauty that I have just been offering the world instead of myself too. It took someone rejecting a FRIENDSHIP with me to even look inside and see that for myself. It hurt and it hurt badly, especially sober but because of it I am now able to look at myself in the mirror and see a glimpse of what everyone around me sees. I don’t claim to understand everything but what I do know is if you don’t accept me thats your problem not mine. And if you can’t be my friend well, poo on you.
I may not be guilty of everything on that list but on thing is for sure I can’t have just one drink and I know that. I had my first therapy appointment for the first time in months and the first one in Columbus MS on Wednesday. During my inpatient stay I apparently had to fill out a questionnaire that I don’t remember but on that questionnaire it asked me if I thought I had problems with drugs and alcohol. Apparently I said no to one or more of those. Well obviously in my therapy appointment I told her yea I have a problem and thats why I’m in IOP and why I go to meetings. So I can recover. So I can begin to heal. She smiled and said “your answers changed.”. I immediately started to cry. I don’t know why. I guess because for the first time I was starting to be honest with myself and others. Honesty is a beautiful thing. If you can’t be honest with yourself who can you be honest with.
This little lady (me) was born at 11:59 on August 13th 1989 and there is nothing wrong with me aside from the fact that I look like a smurf and I almost didn’t survive my own birth. I was 3 weeks early. I had a double hernia when I was born and was in the NICU for 3 weeks. If you think there is something fundamentally wrong with alcoholics and addicts well you are right and wrong. We are not BAD people, we are sick. It is a sickness. An allergy that creates a craving that cannot be quenched. We cannot have just one of ANYTHING. Moderation is foreign territory for us. Do not judge and do not be dismayed by our recovery and our success. We know what pain feels like.
I have lost my best friend, my high school sweet heart, I was made fun of in school, I was in a verbally abusive relationship, and I felt all that pain while on drugs and alcohol. I have now felt all of that SOBER. S O B E R!! I had to relive all of that pain. And I thought it was bad then. No. No. I screamed so much that 3 days later I still can’t talk. I fell down in the shower just screaming out in pain. Later that night I went to the ER thinking I was dying of a broken heart. I thought for sure I was having a heart attack. I knew I was dying of a heart attack. I just knew it. The only good thing about that visit was it tested my sobriety and I got to see some good looking nurses lololol I will not stand by and let this disease ruin me and I also will not stand by and be quiet about it. I am a writer. My job and my duty is to help people and thats exactly what I’m going to do. “NOBODY puts baby in a corner!”
The world needs to hear our story and they will hear mine!
You never know how many people really care until you hit rock bottom. People start to come out of no where. People you thought had forgotten all about you still remember your smile and the impact you had. No life is too small or insignificant. Everyone has a place. Even me. In my own weird way. I don’t know where I fit in this world but I know I was put here to help. I helped a girl out with clothes and a bible while in the hospital. One of the first things I did was get her a bag ready to go up to the hospital. It meant way more to her than it ever could to me. I didn’t do it for me I did it because I saw a need that I could fill. Something I could do to make the world a better place. So I did. I will call this girl until she leaves. I also met a man who lead me to get sober from my valium. Not that its bad for everyone but I have been on it for too long and everyone notices a difference of me on it. And thats what I hate. I want to be the best Katie for everyone. I hate being anxious but at the same time I don’t want to be a robot.
Part of being inpatient is giving up your freedom. Your sanity basically. You stare at walls for long periods of time just to think about the decisions you made that got you there. Which I can tell you sucks balls. I cried like a baby my second day. My first full day really. My second day I started to see the light and I started to do things that made me feel good, like run when we went outside and not sleep all day. I played cards with group members. I made people laugh. I’ll never forget those people. The people that impacted me far more than they may ever realize. You may think your life is insignificant and I know I sure did but no life is too small. NO LIFE is not important. NO ONE should be left behind in this cruel world I don’t care who you are. This world is scary and lonely and I don’t care what you’ve done you don’t deserve to be alone.
My friends and my family have carried me as far as they can and its time for me to carry myself. I pray for the strength and the courage to do so.
I often feel like I’m looking at my life from the outside. Its this weird feeling I can’t explain. I have felt so alone for so long I don’t know what its like to feel like I have a partner in something. I have friends, yes. But an actual partner, no. I haven’t had one of those in a very very long time. I am 28 years old. The longing for companionship is past the point of longing and is now down right painful. I see all my friends married. Some have kids, some don’t. Some have full blown families. I feel so behind. So ALONE. ALONE doesn’t just mean by yourself. I know I’m not the only one but I always had a boyfriend. I always had a “sweetheart”. This is the longest I’ve ever gone and not “dated” anyone. My self worth had since been lowered because I feel like I’m not worth dating maybe. I know in my heart any man would be lucky to have me but when no one seems to want you its hard to NOT be hard on yourself. And its not even about men. ITs women too. Making friends is soooo hard. I have 2. Maybe 3 here in Columbus. I can’t rely on them day and night and while I don’t have a job I have to entertain myself. I have to find ways to be alone with me and be okay and its hard. I will be the first to admit that. Its VERY uncomfortable at first. I don’t even know what to do with myself half the time. I’d love to write all day but my hands are so unsteady because of the anxiety I can’t write on paper anymore. How sad is that. I used to could write in a journal and now all I can manage is to type. My hands are too unsteady for a pen and paper and that breaks my heart. When did it get this bad. When was it that I became such a mess. Was it really being told “Giving up got you to where you are now.”? I know I shouldn’t dwell on that but its hard. Its like a flesh eating bacteria eating away at my heart. Day by day it just eats away. I don’t want to give up but according to him I already have so whats the point. What is even the point anymore. I’m all alone and I feel like I always will be. I have God and thats about the only thing I can count on and right now I feel like thats all I’d rather be with is just him.
I unpacked all these in one day. I can’t stand a mess and disorganization. It literally drives me batty. Moving in a complete process. Its finding a job, its settling in. Its finding yourself again. In a whole new place. I am sitting at a bar my best friend works at to get wifi just to write this and to apply to jobs. I am at a loss at what to do. I have tried so much and done so much today I am exhausted. Being up at 5am everyday wears on a person. I try though and I’m still going to keep trying. I’m not going to let this depression and my BPD win. I won’t and I can’t. Too many people have put too much time and money into my well being and to help me get a fresh start just to sit and rot away. Like I’d really like to do but I know thats not Gods plan for me. Its the depression telling me that.
A wise friend once said “The greatest thing about life is everyone has their own book. Some are sweet and everlasting, some are horrifying and weird, some are sad and short, but it is YOUR book. And no one in the whole universe can copy or steal your book” – Henderson Cunningham.
This statement is so true. I hope my book is long and filled with lots of highs and few but very informative lows. No one knows what its like to be me and I don’t know what its like to be anyone else. I don’t want to know. I pray for everyone. I hope everyone succeeds in their own way. I never wish ill on anyone. I have made mistakes and I can’t take them back but I can live my life now and and want to repent and ask for forgiveness. My book is bitter sweet right now. And I’m okay with that. My sister has blessed me with a roof and I can’t be anymore grateful. My brother came and helped me move and I can’t ever repay him and my mom, don’t get me started. She is my rock. Well God is my rock but my mom comes second. I would love to write more and update more but its hot and I can’t stay long. I will have internet this weekend I hope and plan to write more. Please look forward to hearing me soon.
I have seen things I cannot unsee. I have second hand partaken in things I wish I could say I didn’t. All I was trying to do was help. Thats all I ever want to do is to help. My second day on the street was my last. OR so I thought. IT was the last day I would be out there begging although I did go back tonight to help and bring bags a friend helped me put together. Thats when I saw things I wish I could unsee. We will get to that. But first let me to you about Jason. Jason was this sweet boy, well guy. Probably my age. Who is homeless and lives on the streets. He has nothing. He has only himself. I took a liking to him on my first day. He walked by me and read my sign and said “yup, thats what I’m always saying”. So on my second day I figured I would see if he wanted to sit with me. Maybe a couple would make more money? And we could split it evenly? He agreed and we went down to the Sanger Theater. I got to know Jason. I got to know how sweet a soul he has. We had been in the heat for over an hour and I hadn’t eaten all day and I could only imagine. I had a few bucks on my LLR card and knew they had half off pizza at a downtown pizza place so I asked if he had eaten today…he didn’t say anything. He just up and left. He came back with subway and gave it to me. I asked where he got it he said “money”. Its true, the homeless take care of each other. I wish I hadn’t gotten the news I got tonight. Anyway that was just the beginning of Jason and mines adventure that night. We saw an Eagle Scout and I was able to say I was a Gold Award Recipient. Not sure how good that looks but I said it. It doesn’t matter what you do in your youth you can still make mistakes as an adult that can lead you to begging on the street and I hope his mother had a long talk with him and I wish I could have shared my story with him. I wish I had had the courage then instead of now. To tell him the mistakes I made and what not to do. Maybe thats what my book will be. A guide of what NOT to do. Seems fitting. I know everything that DOESN’T work. Jason and I also met a future congress man Phil Ehr. With whom I got to express my deep concern for the mentally ill and the homeless. He squatted down and got to our level and LISTENED TO US!!! How inspiring. I will definitely vote for him. NOT because of his party, not because of his opinions on anything but because of his compassion and the fact that he looked at me and treated me like a real person who had a real vote and a real opinion that mattered. Thats why. I hope one day he is our president and I get to look back on the time I met our president. With my friend Jason. Who will live forever in my heart. I may never get to say goodbye to him. I went back downtown after I left that night. Jason and I made out with $6 a piece. Which is good for 3 hours I suppose. Anyway I brought Jason a comforter I wasn’t using so that he wouldn’t be sleeping on cement. Well tonight when I went to deliver the bags my friend and I made up “Little momma” said he went to jail and they took his comforter. I blessed him with Rose oil that night in the name of the father and the son and the Holy Spirit. I don’t know if I did it right. If I did then may be jail saved him. He had a roof and three square meals a day. But I wouldn’t wish jail on anyone and they took the blanket I gave him. I hope they give it back or put it with his things. He is a real person. Those are his things. They may not be much but those are his! My heart hurts for selfish reasons. I wanted to see him one more time. I wanted to say goodbye. Knowing he is safe makes me feel good though. But I hurt. I hurt for what I saw tonight. I saw a lady do heroine. My high school sweet heart died of a heroine overdose. I told her that. I told her not to do too much. She told me not to give people any more money. I said “yes ma’am”. Knowing I had just contributed to the heroine she was smoking. Did I give her a lot of money? HELL NO. I don’t have much to give. She was making a point to a sweet naive little girl. The world is cruel. The world is sad. The world is broken. And my heart alone is not big enough to fix it. I have come to realize this and it breaks my heart even more. I can’t take anymore emotions tonight. I just wanted to deliver bags to the homeless. Not learn life lessons and have old wounds brought up and find out that a good friend will never know the impact he made on my life. Y’all take it one roe at a time. I’m off to bed for now.
The real reason I’m leaving FL is really so complicated. The last words DPL said to me was “Giving up got you to where you are now”. Was he talking about Pensacola? Was he talking about the little ghetto I live in. My neighbors are actually really nice. What was he referring to. That statement has eaten away at me since I moved here in February and I guess thats when I started to not be myself at work and things started to fail for me at work. When things start going downhill at your job its never good and I was doing soooo well. Sooo so well. It was totally my thing. I was great at it. I let one phrase haunt me. And I think it was meant to do that. I don’t know. I’ll never know because he has since cut off all communication with me. Was he referring to my life in general? Was he saying my life now sucked? What was he getting at? I still had some brief hope for LOVE between us because there was so much history between us and I always envisioned being with him the rest of my life. So I stayed in FL. There were a couple of MINOR/MAJOR reasons too I stayed. My doctors were here. But now that I know there is no hope for me and DPL and no hope for me at a job I loved sooo sooo very much I am going back to where it all started. Columbus MS. Not everyone knows my story. This is where you’ll hear my story. One day I’ll compile it into a book with the help of an editor. But for now it is a blog. A blog about writing whatever I feel is relevant at the time in my life. Right now figuring out WHY I am leaving is relevant. Am I running away?
Me and one of my best friends tried to get down to the root of why things broke down at my job but I left out the haunting phrase my ex left with me with because it wasn’t until this morning it hit me how relevant that was to me. I will however always find people in the work environment that don’t like me and maybe even choose to make fun of me. Some people never grow up. I need to take that like the strong woman I am and not let it get to me like I did. But little did these co workers know I had soooo much more going on. And I can’t fault that for that. I also need to stop talking things so personal. Not everything is a personal shot. Also we know there will be douche bags everywhere you go. The thing is I’m choosing not to date when I go to Columbus. Like AT ALL. NO ONE. NOT EVEN MY CELEBRITY CRUSH. I will be single for a year. I’m old I know. Its probably not the wisest choice since I do want kids and a family one day should that be the path God has for me but ya know, maybe its not. And thats okay. I’m okay with that.
I don’t know how anyone can see a homeless person and not look down. If only for a second. We all know major cities and towns are going to be full of them that is just life. IT is what being below the poverty line has done, its what not being able to qualify for disability when someone really needs it gets turned down, its what being mentally ill and not being able to get help does to a person. Its HELL. I have lived it now. BRIEFLY but I have been behind the sign and will go behind the sign again today. Not for me but for THEM. The ones who have no one to look them in the eyes. The ones who remember my face because I had given them money and talked to them before. THEY REMEMBERED ME!!! And now when I have nothing to give they are helping me out telling me times to come back and when to come and trying to take care of me. There is such a strong calling in me to help these people. More so then to make money for my moving truck. If I make money for my moving truck thats fabulous but if not then God will provide some other way. I just know it. So do you want to know what it was like behind the sign? What it felt like to beg for money with a guitar and a case for 3 hours in the hot FL heat? Do you want to know what that feels like? What it taste like? What it sounds like? Listen close and I’ll tell you.
I started my journey later than I had intended to. Headed out, parked a good 8 blocks away from where I wanted to be sitting. First of all a guitar is heavy, so is a catholic Bible, (ya know, all those extra books lol) and then my water bottle. ITs FL so its HOT as all get out. Like I could have friend an egg on the cement had I had an egg. Anyway I’m walking down Palofax and I come upon a dang riot. Well riot is not a good word. “Gathering” “Supporters” with picket signs and the likes about SOMETHING. I don’t keep up with the news y’all. Its sad. I have enough sadness in my life. Something about supporting a congress man and I know they didn’t like Trump too much. I went LIVE with it on Facebook. I thought it was neat to walk up on that on my way to do this. So I watched that for a bit and then kept walking. I came upon a regular lady. A homeless lady who plays the guitar. She complemented mine and I said I would love to start a band. Haha apparently they prefer to work alone but I took no offense she told me where I could go. So I went down there. Along the way I passed another couple. They remembered me from when I had money and I used to always give them a dollar or a smoke. This time it was me on the other side. They were shocked. I’m sure a lot of them were. I assured them it was not a joke. WHO WOULD SIT IN THAT HEAT FOR A JOKE. Plus I would never want to take advantage of someone like that. So I sat below the Sanger theater sign. I played, and played and played, and played. People would walk by and not even look down. I would tear up. I was shocked someone didn’t call the cops on me for having an emotional break down on the street of Palofax. I’m a quiet crier though. I was crying not only for myself but the whole world of homeless people. They don’t even get treated like they are human. I had so many people cross the street just to avoid me. Do you know how that made me feel. The worst was when someone would reach in their pocket like they were going to give me something and I got excited and then they didn’t and I realized they put their hand in their pocket for protection. I would never take from someone else. And besides unless I use “the force” how am I supposed to get into your pocket?!? People are sooo weird. And its the little things that hurt and hell I’m sure I’ve been guilty of it. Do we realize how the small actions we do impact people on such a large scale. This is temporary for me I hope for them it is not. They have to live this everyday. The sounds were muted. I just heard my own thoughts and my guitar. I really don’t recall hearing anything else. The taste was dry and bitter. The feeling was awful. The concert was hot and my feet kept going to sleep and because I hadn’t eaten I couldn’t stand up. It was terrible. I was getting dehydrated NO ONE offered me water. Can we not show some compassion. I sang last night Palms 49 and I got $1 and finally had this creepy dude leave me alone. It was from a young boy. Teach your kids right. This little boy will never know what he did. That $1 didn’t go towards my moving truck. It went towards body wash for the homeless people of Palofax street. Supplies I’m bringing them tonight. I hope to make enough for a truck but this is for them not me. I’m bringing everything I can and hope it works. My bible and their stuff and my guitar is all I need. Wish me luck you guys!!!
As I tuned my guitar and made my signs to go “panhandle” or beg for money. Not beg, but ask, plead, play my music and tell my story to the public in real life. Not only the most humbling thing I’ve ever done but quite possibly the most dangerous. I feel sort of like a broke spy lol which I’ve always wanted to be a spy so I guess here is my chance to feel sneaky. Or at least in harms way which is something I guess I’ve craved in some weird way. It makes me feel ALIVE. A very wise writer and English teacher inspired me and told me once that to be a good writer you must experience and write what you know about. With that being said I can with confidence tell you what hitting rock bottom is lived like. What that experience is like and I will but not today and not now. Today story is how I’m getting out of rock bottom. Today is about hope. Today is about LIVING.
I want to LIVE, I want to taste the rain, I want to feel the salt water in my nose, I want to see the sparkle in his eyes, I want to hear the music coming from my record player. I want all of these things and so much more. Not having money, being homeless or not becoming homeless, none of this can stop me from breathing and LIVING. Y’all this is not the END BUT THE BEGINNING. Don’t ever give up because things are hard. They will always be hard just be grateful for what you do have. I had Mac and cheese that required nothing but water today and my cats have food. What a blessing. What a joy. I do have friends that care about me. Maybe not many but I do have some. And that is what matters. The people that pray for me, the people that make me laugh, the people that have stuck by my side through thick and thin, through all the pains, laughs, and sorrows. Those are MY people. MY tribe. Whether here nor far they are my people. If you follow me, thank you, if you pray for me, thank you, if you’re my friend thank you. If you make me laugh, thank you, if you have given me money, thank you, IF you have supported my LuLaRoe business THANK YOU!!! YALL ARE MY PEOPLE.
Well guys you know what they say. Life happens and I need to go try and get something for telling my story and playing my guitar. My phone has to charge just a little while longer and I’m out the door. Emergency purposes only for phone. And since the clothing company I represent makes this amazing skirt with semi hidden pockets you won’t know its there. du du du du du du duuu du. See y’all I’m a spy lol