Death and Resurrection

Well, sorry it’s been so long since I last added a proper blog.  I shan’t explain, just accept it was a glitch which is now resolved.  It wasn’t a glitch with DBT which on the whole has been quite difficult and simultaneously positive.

I don’t know if you’ve ever heard the story of the rag man, wandering the streets of a city and offering “new for old” to the people he meets.  The hole ridden shoes of a homeless person swapped for new, comfy walking shoes plus a 4 season sleeping bag.  The blood-stained rag of a youth beaten up exchanged for proper bandages, clean clothes and a comforting shoulder to cry on.  The characters all had to give up the thing that most reflected their need and the rag and bone man gave them back so much more.

Another way of putting it.  Without a death there can be no resurrection!

My last session with Joy was one of those death moments, which allow a resurrection to follow.  Since starting DBT I have stopped the most risky form of self-harm I used completely and significantly reduced cutting.  However, I have become increasingly aware that I am already one quarter of the way through the programme – I can’t afford to take too long over change.

This was reinforced by Joy today who when I suggested a compromised version of change challenged me to go the whole way now, by reminding me that a complete stop to self-harm is an ultimate goal in doing DBT.  To leave the life of self-harm and emotional turmoil behind to have a new, more balanced one.  A life where I can choose my reactions rather than letting my emotions, or fear of the emotions, dictate my responses and behaviours.

So what was the death that will clear the way for my new life?

“Today I decided, and made a commitment to never deliberately cut myself again.

To that end I will search out every blade / self-harm kit that I own,

and dispose of it safely.

If I should slip up with this commitment in the future

I will not give up, but re-commit and carry on!”

There, I’ve said it, and not in secret which to me, seals the commitment.  I know this will not be easy, but as Joy pointed out, never again will I have the chance to make this change with the level of support available while doing DBT.  So, I am now an ex-cutter.  It is gone and my new, scar free life has begun.  The death has occurred.  It is frightening and painful – but the way is clear for a resurrection to occur, and I am in a good position because I firmly believe in resurrection and new starts.

On A Cliff Edge...

Back in January, in an “Up” moment and aware of our financial precariousness, I applied for two jobs.  Much to my surprise I was invited to two interviews.

The first interview, as it loomed towards me got me thinking.  I realised that being committed to regular hours would, at the moment, be setting myself up to fail.  There was no way I could manage set hours plus DBT, which when it starts properly will involve 3 hours a week of therapy in a two hour and a separate one hour session, plus a minimum of three hours travelling time, plus homework, plus recovery from the emotional battering it seems to be creating.  I therefore withdrew my application. I felt pretty rubbish that with the equivalent of 2 degrees and years and years of professional experience I can’t even manage a simple job.

I was just swinging into a big low over this when the second invite to interview arrived.  This job gave me the option to choose from week to week how many hours I work and therefore the scope to work around my ups and downs.  I decided to attend the interview.  

At the interview my professional self graced me with her presence and so it went very well.  The upshot is I have been offed a job subject to CRB check (which I know is OK) and occupational health approval.

Occupational health approval!  Terrifying!  I know they are not allowed to discriminate on the basis of a diagnosis alone.   They can only turn me down on health grounds if the specific job would make me a danger/risk to myself or others.  What if they interpret my history of self-harm a  “a risk to me?”  If they do I am probably barred from working for years till I can prove it is a habit from the past (which it isn’t yet – but I am working on it through the DBT).  What if, bearing in mind the reputation a BPD label has, they just find an excuse to say no?

I don’t deal with rejection well.  I cope with failure even less helpfully.  When faced with being judged unfairly or discriminated against, I am a disaster!  

I feel as if I am standing on a cliff edge, waiting to be pushed off.