Freedumb 55

By Colleen Seeger

We can be our own heroes! The words ‹self help› can have us running the other way with our ears covered. That was me, anyway. I always knew that ‹something was up› with me. I have BPD, my son has BPD and I believe my mom and her mom had undiagnosed BPD. I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, five years ago and this is my journey of how I became aware of 'me'. Freedumb 55 became it's own therapy for me, the best way to get it out of my head and on paper. For over 50 years, I was unaware of how much grief my BPD caused. I love the new awareness I have gained. I now love life! After so many years of self help and finding DBT, I now love me and in turn, you and you and you. "Don't be scared, little one, I will hold your hand and you can feel safe with me."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Apr 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9781773704241

Book preview

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Table of Contents

Preface

Introduction

Epilogue

Copyrights

Preface

There are so many of us out here in the world trying to make sense of our perceptions of what reality is. Many of us do not like reality and in order to SURVIVE have had to find another option and there really is only those two choices: reality and avoiding it. The whole world only has these two options. So many often will cross over for a small period of time from one to the other through a good book or an exciting movie or a great TV show or a cigarette or a joint or a slot machine. All these are types of escapism and I had the art down to a seamless line of reality and avoiding reality. I was always overwhelmed with reality, so Tom took all my lashing out and I will make it up to him for the rest of my life. I so desperately just want to THRIVE for the rest of my life because I am innocent and I am deserving of love. Having no sense of self and a deep core belief that I was to be hated because I was a bad person because I had bad thoughts has been an enormous drain on my psyche and my energy—truly exhaustive! Every thought and action had to go through a rigorous judgment and condemnation of myself that I could never see the forest for the trees. It has been an extremely difficult recovery journey, and I am writing this book to help anyone who is silently suffering like I was and hoping it will help them find their peace sooner rather than later. I like me, now, and when I get triggered, I have learned through DBT, Dialectical Behavior Therapy, a ton of more effective ways of self soothing, mindful awareness and more effective coping skills...breathe

Dedication

I would like to dedicate this book to all my awe inspiring family.

Thank you

I would like to thank, from the bottom of my heart, my husband, Tom. Thank you, Tom, for keeping the world at bay for me and being my rock and for sticking by me when you should have run quickly the other way.

And thank you to my sister, Holly, thank you to God, and, of course, my babies.

Inspiration

I am highly inspired by my son, Jacob. He had strength to tell his mom that they, whoever they are, said that I might have a little bit of Borderline Personality Disorder.

Introduction

I was a wee little babe sitting on the kitchen floor, angry. So angry that I spit. It rolled down my chin and I grabbed my spit in my fist and then I threw it.

This is my story of how I got to the bottom of all my anger and why I had so much anger and what I did with all my anger, through so much soul searching and going through so many layers of ‘crazy’ and learning how to find and see and fix me. I hope, with my unfiltered story of how I am getting better, you will also see that you are not alone in your core belief that you hate yourself. And when you can realize that you were born innocent and someone took your safety and love away and you learned how to survive some way regardless, you’ll see that who you are today is the end result of a little child trying to figure their world out. It is OK to have a messy brain and it is wonderful when you can calm it. This is my really crude story of my self-hatred turning to self-love.

I have always had unregulated emotions and so much buried hate without really knowing about it. I became a very angry person and lived that way for over five decades, and all I ever wanted was to be loved. Now all I want is for someone to suffer less than I did, to find their true self that they were born to be and always meant to be, sooner than later.

How do I explain myself, living with a disorder I knew absolutely nothing about? How much this invisible thing touched my life and everyone’s lives I touched? How my mother and grandmother survived and the disorder passed down nicely from generation to generation without even being aware of any of it? This has been the biggest learning curve of my life. And the most difficult step was being able to admit that I had a messy head, to admit that I did need help and I was my own hero finding everything I needed to learn how to like me and I feel blessed.

Borderline Personality Disorder. BPD. It is a very difficult disorder to diagnose because, very often, the ones suffering with it keep it so buried and hidden from plain view.

If you look closely you can see that we tend to lash out. We tend to have pretty low self-esteem. We have very little ability to regulate our emotions and we do an awful lot of avoiding what’s happening in our minds so we tend to be prone to addiction. We’re drawn to escapism of any kind. And, oh ya, we hate ourselves as well.

We are scared of everything. We are not necessarily aware of any of these things because we are in our imagination and not present. Those with BPD were all born extra sensitive into a non-validating life that we could not handle because of that sensitivity, so we had to get by somehow and this—staying in the comfort of our mind, when we did not like our world we were in—is the best way a little person could survive.

Borderline Personality Disorder or BPD. Five years ago I was diagnosed with this disorder and it has blown me out of the water, finding out what I have been finding out. An expert in BPD and Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) had me sit in his office week after week sobbing into a tissue, unable to form whole sentences. I peeled back some of my shame so I could find my words and found out that my mind went to great lengths to protect a little child that didn’t ever feel validated. Now, my mind is calm, or better yet, I now have the tools to calm my mind down.

Millions of people are diagnosed with BPD and millions more don’t even know they have it. It reaches out and touches billions of people, but is one of the most complicated and misunderstood disorders. It has taken me five years of therapy to get here and my passion now is to be the poster child for this disorder, an advocate for those who have it. I want you, my reader, to see inside my mind. How could I have lived alongside this disorder all my life and at the ripe age of 50, only find out about it? That’s a crying shame. If I can just get one person to take the self-help plunge and figure it all out sooner than later, then I am happy. And if more than 1500 people buy my book then my agent-and-husband, Tom, will be happy.

My personal life with BPD was a moody, bitchy, bossy way of interacting with people and life. I have since learned that that was just my mask (persona) that I used to get things done in reality. I acted so in control when, in fact, I was so far from it. I had been harboring this little broken inner child that just needed to be unearthed and dealt with in a gentle manner because there is a lot of shame attached to not really being in reality.

I became aware through therapy that I never had a sense of self from about 13 years onward and it all went down under my radar. Before I turned 13, I was almost always super sensitive to people and I was very empathetic to people’s plights. When I turned inwards, I lost all sense of self and became a mirror to whomever I was interacting with. I was too sensitive for my own good so I just hid out inside my mind.

Living like this in the 70s was so easy to not notice because everyone spent all their waking hours glued to the TV. Always together and yet never knowing each other. Getting married and having four children kept me busy enough that I never needed to analyze my head. Working labour jobs for years also kept me busy while bringing up the children. I was a controlling, strict wife and mother and I just did not know. I always hated myself; I lashed out and picked on my husband incessantly. In order for me to be able to deal with my world, I had to unload some of my self-hate onto my husband or yell at the kids for one more thing. I always believed I was a bad person, but have since learned that I lashed out on impulses that were based on distorted thoughts and core beliefs.

Dialectical Behavior Therapy, or DBT, is a very highly successful therapy for BPD sufferers and not enough people know about it. Mindfulness is a very large part of DBT. When practiced, you can learn to find your calm, simply by paying attention to your breath. Breathe into your belly. If your belly isn’t getting full of air then you have not found the deep breath to calm. I hope my roller coaster of a journal will shed some much-needed light on BPD and DBT.

My mental health. It needs to be more recognized and less stigmatized. There are a lot of people suffering for no reason. I want to clarify with another person who may have Borderline Personality Disorder if what is in their mind is the same as what’s in my mind. I felt invalidated as a child therefore I had no self worth.

I have been married 37 years to a wonderful man. I have four beautiful children and their significant others and one beautiful grandchild and an adorable Chihuahua, named Fergy or Prince Ferguson. I am just a regular person that desperately wants to help anyone suffering with BPD to find their own inner peace.

My husband hounded me through the whole book, You have to make chapters. All books have chapters. There are no chapters in my book because there were no chapters in my mind. I use breathe to remind you, my reader, to breathe because this stuff is heavy and real. When my mind finds a new piece of me, I want you to be right there with me. Darkness to light.

The You in this book is either directed to you, my reader, or me telling me. At times it is directly to my husband as I would type out my clarity and then have him read it to better understand me.

I always thought that I had to jump into my life (giant abyss) when in fact all along I had to scale high mountains to get out of the misery I was stuck in. I did not know how to get out and DBT gave me the tools I needed to help myself; no one else can help you if you don’t know you are suffering. Ellen DeGeneres taught me what compassion looked like so I could find it for myself, first and then I was able to nurture my compassion.

I did lots of soul searching long before I ever knew about my BPD. I was unaware of my mental illness until the age of around 40, when I started trying to find myself.

Around 2000, I had a meltdown at my work and I needed to quit after seven long years there. For the next six weeks I proceeded to lay in a fetal position trying to figure out who I was. My GP sent me off to the big city to get assessed by a real psychologist. His report came back saying that I was angry. That was when I started on many years of medication to help with my anxiety and depression. In 2003 a psychiatrist told me to lighten up and recommended CBT, Cognitive Behavior Therapy, which I took for 12 weeks in a group session. Three years later, in 2005, a psychiatrist told me to shake it off and suggested a second round of CBT, which I took for another 12 weeks.

I was always a cigarette smoker. I tried to quit a couple dozen times with laser therapy and smoking cessation patches. I went to a counselor to help me make it stick and finally, in 2007, I took my last puff. It only took 33 years.

I also fought a lot with an addiction to escapism. There were books I could never put down and I would play Pac-Man continuously, needing an outside source to unplug me from the wall after three straight days. Tetris would make my eyes square because I could not put it down. From around age 40 to 50, I had such a bad gambling problem that found me in every casino across this land and occasionally emptying our bank account in a failed attempt to win it back. With all my times I tried to quit smoking, I would innocently buy scratch lottery tickets to the point of driving around all day to our local six convenience stores, buying and scratching and moving on to the next one, so that no one salesperson would know my deep dark secret.

This pattern brought me to Gambler’s Anonymous in 2008. The people’s stories scared the pants off of me about how bad a gambling problem could get and after a final hurrah in Las Vegas, I gave up gambling in 2009.

I got a tummy tuck in 2009 and lost my mom the same year. I also went to group counseling for substance abuse (pot).

In 2011, my son got diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and told me they thought I might have a bit. In 2012 a psychologist, who was an expert on BPD diagnosed me, finally, with BPD and highly recommended Dialectical Behavior Therapy.

My first DBT group session was an extensive 20-week program. Once a week 12 super strong women and two facilitators all delved into the world of DBT and we learned how to thrive on. Shortly thereafter, a new group was starting up and I was highly recommended by my facilitator for a spot of six women, a facilitator for all the other DBT info and one facilitator for mindfulness training and one therapist to see along side this six-month group. It was very intense. I finished that and moved onto a very special therapist that worked with me one-on-one with DBT training.

I have been seeing my psychiatrist quarterly since 2012 and I have seen my psychologist maybe three times since 2014 to find out what I was still doing wrong. After each visit I would go home and process it all.

Which brings me to my home. I stopped working in 2007 due to an allergy to the chemicals I was working with. My home has been both a prison and a sanctuary, depends what day or what time. I am not consistent.

We bought this house seven years ago because we both fell in love with it and we had to have it. It is a charming little bungalow that has a softly painted pink and blue loft upstairs and a big basement that holds laundry, a workshop and a personal gym. My main floor is my happy place; if you could just see how calming the whole house looks! We painted the living room mauve and white with a big purple couch. The halls are a sea breeze aqua. Our office and bedroom are in blue hues. My latest creation is making over my bathroom in pink, blue and yellow.

Do you picture calm? My comfiest place is my big overstuffed chair in our sunny yellow sunroom where I have spent the last three years writing this book. As you’ll read a lot of yucky stuff, I had to process all my yucky stuff and I could not have processed without learning to calm down. My choices to calm down were coloring over 1,000 mandalas and puzzling 500 pieces a day while listening to the latest hits (I love hearing the new messages they give), deep breathing, proper medication and a lot of marijuana. When I hurt too much, pot softens the pain and slows my mind down so I can see and change my thoughts. I hope to be done with pot by the end of this book and I will never dis pot, ever.

Oh, yeah. I have been going to a self-help managing anger group every Tuesday for the past three years. And I can’t forget to put my sister into this group of healers, I could not have done it without my almost daily calls to her to cry on her beautiful, broad shoulders.

I would love to have more ‘forward’ in my life. My fears are losing their grip on me as I become more aware of my reality. I see a newness in my forever that I never dreamed possible. I am learning to like me and eventually love me.

As my psychologist surmised, I have made my world the smallest it can be. I have chosen to stay in my home until I do not have any more lashing out incidents, that means my healing process has been extremely lonely but safe. I really needed to work on my marital relationship anyway because that was the most dysfunctional. I have needed to become aware of my actions and own that I was a control freak and never calm and always hating myself and always lashing out. I’ve had to pretty much change everything about me, and I am blessed to be on the other side.

We all have three brains and I had no idea what one was up to at all and I was never present because I was in my mind 90% of my time, leaving only 10% to deal with everything and I always failed miserably AND it was the only way I knew.

My dream, one day in the near future, is to open my home to women and girls that suffer with low self-esteem. To women who are pregnant or wanting to be pregnant, and are aware enough to know that a child exposed to low self-esteem has a very hard time figuring out their shit. And you want to nurture your baby in the most effective way, and that means leaving your emotional baggage before you get on that delivery table because you want only the best chance for your baby. My home would be a safe haven to any woman wanting to better themselves in a nonjudgmental, compassionate, gentle way.

First there is learning self-nurturing and then I want to call it Nurturing 101 and it would be a non-profit organization. I want to look into this when this book is finally behind me and I can let it all go for good. It really was what it was and it really is what it is and Radically Accept (big DBT skill) this and you can go so far. Thank you, God.

About the title of the book. A long time ago there was an expression for when people wanted to be debt free and possibly retire early and it was called Freedom 55, meaning you’d have this freedom at 55 years old instead of 65. I played on that expression and I threw in a dumb, not as in stupid but as a person that has never found her voice and now, at 55 years old, I understand myself enough to start being who I was born to be. I am a very sensitive person and I am learning to love myself and I have found my voice.

One last note of all the capitalized AND’s is all about me only ever having Black or White thinking, Right or Wrong thinking and the ever-popular Good or Bad thinking. Mindfulness has taught me that I can have two opposite thoughts AND be okay!

Wikipedia definition of Borderline Personality Disorder is a personality disorder that involves a prolonged disturbance of personality function characterized by depth and variability of moods. Borderline personality disorder(BPD), also known as emotionally unstable personality disorder, is a long-term pattern of abnormal behavior characterized by unstable relationships with other people, unstable sense of self, and unstable emotions. There is often frequent dangerous behavior, a feeling of emptiness, self harm, and an extreme fear of abandonment. Symptoms may be brought on by seemingly normal events. The behavior typically starts by early adulthood, and occurs across a variety of situations. Substance abuse, depression, and eating disorders are commonly associated with BPD. BPD increases the risk of self-harm and 10% of people affected die by suicide.

Wikipedia definition of Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) is helpful for personality disorders as well as those who need to change patterns of behavior that are not helpful like self harm, suicidal ideation and substance abuse. It helps by increasing their emotional and cognitive regulation by learning the triggers that lead to reactive states and helping assess which coping skills to apply in the sequence of events, thoughts, feelings, and behaviors to help avoid undesired reactions. DBT assumes that people are doing their best but lack the skills to succeed, or are influenced by positive reinforcement or negative reinforcement that interferes with their ability to function appropriately. Marsha Linehan came up with this psycho therapy in the late 80’s, combining behavioral science with Zen concepts like acceptance and mindfulness.

Mindfulness. Distress tolerance. Emotion regulation. Interpersonal effectiveness are the four domains of DBT.

Mindfulness: 1. Observe 2. Describe 3. Participate

How to participate: 1. Non judgmentally 2. In the moment 3.Effectively

Distress tolerance: 1. Crisis survival 2. Radical Acceptance 3. Addiction Skills

Emotion regulation: Teach what emotions are, look at vulnerability factors. What was the prompting event? What is your interpretation? Check facts.

Inter personal Effectiveness: Learning the skills to get what you want in a relationship and keeping your self respect. This is where all the acronyms comes in to remember easier. GIVE / FAST

be Gentle, act Interested, Validate with Ease / be Fair, no Apology, Stick to values, be Truthful.

DEAR MAN. Describe, Express, Assert, Reinforce, stay Mindful, Appear confident, Negotiate. Skills like Opposite action, Breathe, Cheer lead, Puff your chest out, Pros and cons are all to be learned and practiced.

February 13, 2013

I have been fighting with myself to face all my realities and I cannot bear it. I have owned up to emotionally abusing Tom our whole relationship and I am at the stage where I have become aware and I have way, way, way, way too much shame to process and I cannot. I am at the stage in therapy where I have unearthed this awful, shameful insight without having learned the proper skills to be gentle with my psyche yet, and I hurt so bad. I have cried and cried until my eyes are swollen shut. I have talked to Tom endlessly on how sorry I am and it hurts way, way, way too much. He finally went to bed and I stayed up wondering how I could possibly go forward in this light. I decided that I could not. What do I do when I realize that reality is too hard to bear? What do I do when my reality is becoming aware that I have a mental disorder and reality doesn’t allow for 90% of my time in my mind? Aware, ashamed and wondering how to even go forward. I could not bear my shame. I could not bear living anymore with so much shame. I asked God if he could hold my intense shame for me while I could go do what needed to be done. I went to bed and when I awoke the next morning I was feeling a 1,000 times lighter and I knew then that God had my back and the 25 year hate on for God was finally behind me and we are both good.

~ breathe ~

This is the story of how I became my own hero and fixed what was wrong with me.

Once upon a time, 50 years ago, Tommy gave Colleen a wish on a star and two souls found their paths to each other. That story alone is bestseller book or movie deal material right there AND we need to go back to earlier times to get a better idea of how I went off. Wah! Insert here all the pertinent stuff about early childhood studies showing a really, really strong correlation between a baby born extra sensitive into an invalidating environment and Borderline Personality Disorder. Blah. Blah. (A lot!)

~ breathe ~

Make a new chapter, a new brilliant life where everything is good and kind and decent and deserving of pleasure. He asks me, What was the name of your book that you are writing again?

Freedumb 55, I say. And then get this fabulous, early Christmas present that I could not get my hands on soon enough. OMG! He’s got me all set up here. He even has the story started for me. I need to be more grateful. Thank you, my sweetness, for seeing the real me, way, way down deep.

I would like to talk about me for a few minutes. I was born in 1959, my mother was 31 years old at the time and my father was 35. They were both Catholic, and I was brought up Catholic and went to church as a child. I was the sixth in line of eight children in a guilt-ridden, God-fearing time in history where children were seen and not heard and disciplined appropriately with the belt. Two parents trying to live their lives the best they knew how, given they were broken children when they met and procreated AND I was broken and I procreated because that was what I wanted to do. But I did not know I was broken. My children are broken and the buck has to stop NOW, with me, because I am AWARE and from this day forward cannot live the same way ever again and hope I can help my children to see their own self worth. My mother was abused as a child in that her brother was loved by her mother and she was not loved. She never had a father, so, there was that too. My father was not abused as far as I know but his mom had a sick heart so his aunt raised him in the same household and, according to my mother, he was the biggest spoiled brat ever.

I don’t have a lot of childhood memories. I have a vague memory of being spanked but I don’t recall being spanked because I still have it blocked from my mind’s eye because I was protecting a broken psyche and there were a lot of spankings. I believe now that my mother was doing the best she could with what she had, and what she had was a mental illness that was not diagnosed or recognized on top of everything else she had to do. I definitely believe she had Borderline Personality Disorder. I believe I was born a very sensitive baby so everything was overwhelming for me. I was not allowed to feel my emotions or express them. I probably buried them.

There is a strong possibility that a predator was priming me when I was around 13. It was found later on that he liked to prime 13-year-old girls. I was very promiscuous at an early age. I started menstruating at 10; I was performing fellatio at 13, and had a fair amount of unprotected sex for a number of years. I was just looking for love, I thought.

~ breathe ~

Follow my passion. My passion is mental health.

At 13 years old I believe my mind slipped. I lived in my mind whenever I could because I didn’t like living in the present and I didn’t know how to live in the present. I didn’t know how to react or I only reacted badly to the present; I protected myself from the present. All of my son Jacob’s talks of compartmentalizing all make sense to me now. When I could not make sense of the present, I buried it and directed it inwards. This became all of the negative self talk and all the self-loathing.

~ breathe ~

Lists of lists of must do’s that never got remembered to get written down. I’ve always had a big deal issue with lists. Bottom line is that I equated my mother’s lack of affection to be something to do with lists and I could never make lists because of this distorted belief. Learning that many of my very distorted beliefs were just thoughts or simple feelings or a caterpillar-to-butterfly story, that has rocked my mind’s world. The only path is forward, NOW.

Fergy wants to be petted too. His eyes look up into my face. Please pet me? Of course he wins. He’s been there for me every step of my journey; true to only me, just like my Tommy. I do love them both lots and lots. Fergy, trying to get comfy on my lap, has pulled out his I have a frog in my throat, hack and I must tend to him again.

Don’t stretch your neck like that, I say, and I readjust him on me. I am so happy about so many things that I surely don’t know where to start.

Borderline Personality Disorder does not define me, to be clear, but I have followed my path into my awareness, and once I got it, I never wanted to go back. Excuse me, hot flash!

~ breathe ~

We walk down the hallway, just the two of us. Lisa says, You sure seem a lot better than last group.

You sure are better than last group, I say.

You seem happier.

You don’t even need ice packs. I say.

We are getting it, and in that very moment, I felt such kinship to this woman, in complimenting each other we both also felt validated AND quite proud of ourselves, beaming awkwardly. Yes, we have come so far. I have come so far. I am very proud of myself to face all this mindboggling business. This was our second round of DBT.

Jacob told me that he got a diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder and was told that his mom probably had it as well AND, well, I have been diagnosed with it and I firmly believe my mother had it as well and maybe even her mother.

The faster path to wellness, (learning to become aware of my mind) is where I would like to travel through all of my distorted core beliefs of a little child not knowing any different and a child, young woman, old lady that believed she was a bad person and undeserving of love or a life worth living and has lived in purgatory ever after until...dun dun dun...NOW!

NOW is the best place to be. I have a lot of stuff still to work through AND I am able to come into real time and feel, and it feels wonderful. Is Fergy going to stare me down the whole time that I am typing? He scratches at my arm and I tell him to wait a minute. He is so obedient. He so knows that I am the alpha. Why does Tom keep asking about my writing, or why don’t I like this Chrome book? I love it and am a little afraid of it. It’s still technology and I don’t have great confidence in computers but I must learn writing on a computer, so better sooner than later.

~ breathe ~

It’s not easy being green. What is wrong with me? Why did I stop at the casino? So many possibilities. My plan was to see if I could be in a casino recreationally and now I know I can never ever go in one again. As the hours went by so did the past years of no gambling and it felt like I had never left and the chasing the win was being played out in slow motion for me to process and become aware.

So much insight today and this evening. I went to anger management and became very humbled by all the true feelings of warmth and acceptance and I feel like one of those soldiers in the trenches, akin, I believe the word is. The anger comes from deep, deep inside, where the battle has been waged for an eternity and it is time for camaraderie.

Being in the moment is a wonderful place to be. I should look into reading information on anxiety and depression. Since I was not present till fairly recently, I did not probably process all the Cognitive Behavior Therapy terribly well.

This is a catch-22. What was Tom seeing that I was not seeing? I love this new Chrome book and my stifled creative juices are at jeopardy. Slow it down and I can see NOW that I need to practice typing all my handwritten work into this computer and then I will be comfortable with my speed in which I can get my thoughts down in my computer AND then I will be better able to write. Forward. Clarity. Effectiveness. Practice. So deep!

~ breathe ~

I became not present around the age of 13. Something snapped.

All roads led to this point in my life that I had been worn down to a shameful child and must live ashamed for the next 41 years.

I was born extra sensitive and I am now the product of people not understanding my issue. I felt all my emotions really, really strongly, more than anyone can imagine. Living as an extra sensitive child in a time and place as I did, there was no hope for me. The writing was on the wall. It’s so clear to me, NOW, and I am utterly amazed at how it affected my whole existence, without me being aware at all!

I believe every baby born deserves happiness. I think it has to be taught to expectant parents how to successfully raise a baby to adulthood being validated.

My psyche needed to be validated. It was not, therefore broken, ready for my Tommy to come along and fix me, which is a whole other topic.

I want to tell my children how sorry I am that I never validated them and would like to help them find their true selves with strong self-esteem. They need to know from me, how truly wonderful human beings they are, were and always will be, to me, their father, the world and their strong partners that have chosen to live by their sides.

I knew years ago that something was amiss with me and I started a journey looking for answers. Never in my wildest imagination did I ever, ever expect to find what I found AND I am so excited to reassemble me into a better me.

~ breathe ~

Doing the least possible so I can stay in my head.

No game plan.

Overwhelmed as to where to start.

Self-loathing.

Angry.

CHOICE.

Acceptance.

Mindfulness.

Interpersonal.

Effective.

Emotional regulation.

Distress tolerance.

Urges of marijuana.

WOW! I am blaming Tom for everything that is wrong with me and my/our life.

~ breathe ~

I looked at all my seven siblings and saw each with their different and same psyches and psychosis and I saw all of them with multiple disorders. Some were depressed, others were anxious, all in varying degrees and overlapping in so many different ways. I saw us all as broken children in our solid ring of deception and truth. I believe we all take heart in whatever unity this is. So many questions unanswered by our parents and family. So much guilt and shame. I call it kneejerk reactions to incoming information. Some act out, some are quiet. Not a single one of us are mentally well. All of us have solid opinions about our respective lives, how our paths have led us to this moment in time.

~ breathe ~

I have an epic conspiracy theory about pharmaceutical companies and government to medicate when needed. Borderline doesn’t define us, beginning, middle and end. Can you imagine a world with awareness and therapy instead of medicating without awareness?

March 10, 2013

My first ever journal. This is raw, raw at its finest. A simple plan to wipe out BPD forever! From this point on in my life I am able to stop and smell the roses. The search has stopped on the whereabouts of Colleen. I have been found, OMG! To thine own self be true. I, Colleen Therese Seeger have been found. Wow, the end so soon. I have traveled up, down and sideways in my brain to find myself. Myself and my shadow. This is not the end, this is a big beautiful plateau with the most epic 360° vista and I am heading in the right direction.

~ breathe ~

Sitting here, mellow, wondering how to write this. My thoughts race, I pause. Apparently I have caught my breath in anticipation of what I was to write. I read this story to my husband beside me in bed, waiting for my next news bulletin. I am so excited I am almost beside myself. He giggles at me, tickled to see me smile, he sure has missed that special smile that used to go his way a while back. He knows how hard it’s been and of course wouldn’t change a thing in the world about me, now I truly believe him! I didn’t like myself. I felt I was a bother, a pain in the neck, an interruption—the lists goes on and the sarcasm comes to its glory. I could say what I meant sarcastically and say just kidding because I was angry from being hurt by someone nine out of 10 times. I misinterpreted every slight or comment or slur. This powerful mind of mine that thrives on all the idiosyncrasies of its holder! I thought pensively of which word for my body and decided on holder. Yes, I hold so much gunk in my brain I cease to amaze myself. Like for this exact second my mind is going to say, OMG, I am writing a book, and really? Really! Apparently! My son would be calling me a dork about now! I couldn’t help but notice that dork translates to another idiotic thing mom says or does.

How long must you dwell, pick apart, criticize, judge, misinterpret, misunderstand and the ever-popular beat yourself up, and then cycle through again? I would like to feel normal. I don’t feel normal yet but soon. So much gunk in my brain to excrete these words to paper and flush.

When my youngest turned 18, I took all four kids aside and told them about the skeletons in their mom’s closet. I had an abortion when I was 17. Not too many knew about it at the time. My brother, who brought me, was told I was having day surgery. I threw up at the local grocery store where I worked and told them I had a polyp in my abdomen and needed day surgery. This story was supposed to be a cyst in my uterus but nobody would know the difference except one was surgery and one just a procedure. My mom was a nurse and arranged for a D&C (découpe and curettage); it was not to be called abortion in the hospital or anywhere, frankly, with a strong catholic upbringing. My mother went with me. I did appreciate her support and knew she had really put her beliefs aside, so the stone perhaps was tossed. Guilt, shame, should have, would have, could have.

I was a bad person, both for my abortion and promiscuity that led to the problem. Two months later, out of the blue, my father says to me, It’s all for the best. I don’t know where you would have gone until you had the baby. A very bad person! My father told me to go to confession. And when my sweet Tom asked me to marry him my mother told me to tell him about the abortion before accepting, in case he wouldn’t want me. I was 19 and in love with a wonderful guy and, yes, we got married—33 years ago.

Awe, wedded bliss. This is not a little skip down memory lane. This is a clean sweep of all that is not necessary. I can’t do a thing about the weather so why complain! Negativity was my middle name.

~ breathe ~

I have had a very rough night of not sleeping (pot and eating), so woke up at noon, watched TV for two hours and went on my computer. I checked my phone and was sad that nobody had texted me. I went to Facebook and saw Jacob’s post that he is looking for another job after less than one week. Why? I ask myself.

I start to worry too much about Jacob. Subconsciously, I feel guilty, ashamed of myself for causing so much extra work for Jacob to live. Then I feel guilt about Erik, Anton and Finn that I am a bad person, and so I escape. I am high.

It was not my plan but got out this book to write in. Ellen Degeneres said she wrote it all out when she was having a hard time. Where do I write it? I am so proud of myself! I cannot believe how far I have come and have no self-respect to toot my own horn, but I am so proud of me! It’s time for me to travel my path of enlightenment. It’s time for me to start living in the present!

March 15, 2013

Woke up to alarm, pushed the snooze button three times, less than usual. Got up, got dressed into my gym clothes, opened the living room curtains and just stood still looking out. I noticed the time and realized I had 20 minutes to get to the gym for a yoga class at 10:00 a.m.. I stand for 10 minutes longer then sit on the couch and ruminate while watching the time crawl to 10:00 a.m. Now I can relax and start judging myself with negative thoughts about not going to yoga (bad person, don’t deserve the happiness of yesterday when I first jogged on the treadmill). I had missed Jacob’s text of him being overwhelmed at 5:00 p.m. I only saw the text six hours later and texted right away. He responded that he was OK, but I felt terribly guilty that I wasn’t there for him.

March 16, 2013

Big realization: Dr. Andrew Ekblade was right again! I do set myself up for failure and I understand that vagueness is all part of it. I looked up belligerence and I agree that I am. I get very angry when someone criticizes me and I believe that I direct it at Dr. Ekblade because he is telling me what I am doing wrong and I don’t agree until some time later when I figure out what he says is right. It’s a kneejerk reaction to being told what to do or feeling criticized. I have control issues with my husband and kids. I used to need to be in control and floundered. Now I know I don’t have to control but don’t know how to stop. Sarcasm, I think, was a big coping mechanism. Now I try to not be sarcastic by not saying anything; Jacob says I should say something positive instead.

Dear Tom, Finn, Anton, Erik and Jacob,

Hi, everybody. Hope this finds you all well. There is this really, really long story I need and want to share with you all.

Right now in the present, in the moment, not in the past, not in the future but in real time in reality, I need you all to really understand me and my story. I have had to come to grips with what my reality is and it’s so powerful for me. The story starts way back in the olden days when my great, great, great, great grandpappy and grandmammy had sex and procreated. Then Gramma and Gramps and Oma and Opa had sex and procreated. Now when you hear dad and I had sex, it won’t weird you out as much. And procreate we did, and produced our finest work through four beautiful children: Finn, Anton, Erik and Jacob.

History class for a minute: I don’t know much on your dad’s side other than Opa had eight siblings and Oma had a brother and sister. Opa had a tough life, they were a large, poor family and there was World War 2. He became a bitter alcoholic that would make him mean to his wife, Oma. Oma had a different life with a loving mother and father also during the war, but they were well off. They both grew and lived. Opa’s ex-wife cheated on him and he took their son with him when he left her. Oma was brutally raped as a child. I remember her telling me somebody put a huge snake on her as a teenager. They both lived through an awful war. They traveled to Canada to start fresh but their minds had forever been changed.

Gramps’s mom was bedridden with heart troubles so his aunt basically raised him, and then there was Gramma. She had just one brother that her mom loved but her mom didn’t love her and her dad left before she was born. When she met Gramps she had to hold onto railings for fear of falling down stairs because she was blinking so fast. I believe Gramma had Borderline Personality Disorder when she met Gramps, but he thought she was cute and could fix her right up. Gramma never knew she had Borderline Personality Disorder and she fell in love with Gramps and produced eight children. They’re all great people but not a single one hasn’t been touched by mental wellness issues. So dad had an alcoholic dad that would be mean to his mom and Oma, being a tough cookie, would yell right back. So dad had basically an OK life except for the yelling.

I had an OK life except I was born extra sensitive and, oh yeah, there was a belt. I was never validated as a child growing up and had so much conditional love from my parents. But I was on my way to cross paths with your father. We met and we fell in love. Tom thought, She’s cute and I can fix her right up. Colleen thought, He’s cute and responsible and he can look after me and make babies with me! Because I needed a whole pile of unconditional love and then the story goes.

Finn was born seven weeks early by cesarean. Anton was born bang on time. Erik arrived 10 days late, and Jacob was 14 weeks early; the last three were regular deliveries.

The 80s were uneventful. I started smoking when I was 15 and tried and failed to quit two dozen times. I smoked all through my pregnancies. With Jacob I managed the first trimester smoke-free. We mothers would send our babies to the nursery so we could smoke in the hospital room or leave the babes in the room while we stepped out into the hallway. I just wanted to say, I am sorry for all the ill effects my smoking caused you all. Love, Mom

~ breathe ~

I believed my mind slipped and I lived in my mind for whenever I could because I didn’t like living in the present and I didn’t know how to live in the present and I didn’t know how to act or I only knew how to react to the present, I feel like I protected myself from the present and therefore all of Jacob’s compartments that he talked about all make sense to me now. I couldn’t handle things in the present sometimes and I would simply leave, let’s say I buried it and directed it inwards so I got some good self-loathing. I would say I lost all respect for myself. This went hand-in-hand with my promiscuity, leading to an abortion when I was 17. Good old Catholic guilt and parents that didn’t validate me, having seven other siblings, being born extra sensitive, and nobody understanding how to nurture an extra sensitive person therefore turning me very angry and a lot of anger, and what do you do with it? I see now that I regret the abortion, that I basically killed my baby and I think I am dealing with the guilt.

So, this boy comes along and he has never been with another woman, especially one so cute, and he falls in love with me and I fall in love with him and we live happily ever after until 35 years later, when we realize this SHIT ain’t REAL. You know how some people go around with rose-colored glasses? I had these black glasses that put a dark tint over all my life, while I was a wife and mother and a productive person in society. Tom doesn’t believe it but when I met him I thought he was really, really cute. I was also strongly attracted to him because he was a responsible boy, the type I had never seen in all my dating life. So when I met Tom, he was my knight in shining armor.

Oct 9, 2013

I hope my tomorrow looks as positive as I feel. So many questions were answered for me today. The lady said my thought exactly, This is my last step to fixing myself. For everything to click, for life to be full, for purpose in my life. I stop my suffering by choosing. I can stay stuck and broken or I can fix myself. I choose to fix myself. Lucy said, This course is a testament to how much courage is involved in Dialectical Behavior Therapy.

Nov 9, 2013

There is no room in my mind for suffering in my past and living in my present, so I will have to choose and I will never choose suffering again.

Wow! I got IT tonight.

It’s all in your head. It’s all in your mind.

The only way that I could help Jacob with his BPD was to be there for him. I could listen to him, without judgment, as he told me of his journey. He told me wonderful stories even if I did not understand what he was saying. They were great stories of compartmentalizing his life and I think I helped him by really listening. The realization tonight is that I now understand what Jacob had been sharing with me. I am to be more thoughtful and mindful so my thoughts can slow down and I can become aware of the automatic thoughts like I hate me and I am unworthy, see how life has distorted my core beliefs and challenge them.

HOLY FUCK! THIS IS HARD!

January 10, 2014

A big eye opener tonight.

I am at the stage, now, that I was hoping to be sooner but happy it’s sooner than later. There’s shame and guilt in producing my children with so much mental un-wellness around them. It’s unnerving as a mother to find out how I brought my children up was not the best way. I know I did the best I knew how to at the time, but I cannot let it go until I learn how to let it go safely and slowly with compassion for myself. Be Gentle, because I have only ever known the negative invalidating thoughts and beliefs for myself.

I think this is how it went down: There once lived a mommy and a daddy. They had a little boy, and he was adored. Then mommy quickly got pregnant with a little girl and all of a sudden, POOF! went the daddy, never to be seen again. Because of his disappearance the mommy could never love the little girl.

Can you imagine living without your mother’s love and have no father either?

March 10, 2014

I heard this expression recently, batshit crazy, and I added, and her batshit crazy mobile.

I ask myself a tough question: Can I let God forgive me of my sins, including my abortion at 17 years old? I get angry at myself. I don’t know! Shut up! Let me think. Who’s driving this ‘BATSHIT-CRAZY-MOBILE?’

They say to stop using pot and feel the feelings. I have been exposing myself to feel the feelings and that’s fine, but I become overwhelmed with the feelings that I need to numb them. Escapism, I tell them, is my main coping skill to use when I feel like my emotions are everywhere.

~ breathe ~

Looking intently at this new group leader of me, Lucy is her name. I have counted, checked and double-checked the list. There is one more class on this list of a six month DBT group than stipulated.

Lucy looks intently at me, That’s OK. We will leave it at that unless it matters to you, Colleen. I say, Well, it would get me the hell out of here a week earlier.

To this, Lucy locked our eyes until, I presume, she could step back and figure out how to respond to this fine piece of work.

~ breathe ~

So many clear moments tonight in the middle of so many layers of mist and fog. This thought is huge, yet another life-changing thought. I really am getting it! Wow! Nice high.

My visit with Jacob was a back-to-the-past, unconstructive, desperate attempt at communicating. Feeling I could deal with some stuff, I unblocked, dealt with some stuff and desperately tried to close the hatch back up. I must be easy on myself when I feel my feelings and be gentle!

The Get it Guru is my new hashtag. If you get it then you got it, and if you got it you are good to go! I’ve tried for so long to just do it without much luck; today, I realized I got it.

Is the counselor OK? Two weeks ago she told me I was my BLOCK and to go do stuff even if I have a block. Hmm. Adult Colleen can choose and adult Colleen can make a list. How does this make me feel? She wonders. Hmm.

-Get out of my head and do.

-Do a nice thing for someone.

-Prepare a ‘to do’ list the day before.

The last month has been exceptionally hard on Tom and I. Both of us are aware that I am not nice to him and I am not getting it. I listen to him listening to a particular song. Christina Aguilera singing I’m giving up on you, I’m sorry I could not get to you… say something… I see it now as his coping skill to try and make himself feel better from all the torment I put him through emotionally, but all I hear is a powerfully sad song about Tom not being able to get through to me. He was running out of time because he was resentful of me and he was at his breaking point. My accusatory manner, my always blaming him for everything that goes wrong. I make my mood all about us and I have to control every aspect of every situation. I cannot bear the shame. I imagine I should have so I get angry at Tom for anything so I can feel less shame or at least a manageable amount.

BABY STEPS FOR SUCCESS

Get out of bed. Toiletries. Dress. Make up bed. Feed dog. Take pills. Drive. Park. Enter.

It took me only four months to be present in my DBT group of six months, to realize that I even had a CHOICE.

I wonder why?

You come home with pretty yellow roses for me to make me happy. That’s all you want. How can I make her happy? Flowers make her happy.

Here are some pretty yellow roses for you because I love you. I say, Thank you. and proceed to not be nice. I need you to know that these flowers are starting to die one day after I get them and I am sad and mad that they die so fast. Such a waste of money.

I tell you that I like arrangements too, at Zehrs, hoping the prearranged might look healthier longer. I clip them and find a mushy bud and point it out to you. Ewww.

OK, I see it clearly five minutes later and apologize for my not-so-nice twin. In real time I say Sorry and Thank you for the pretty flowers.

Where was I? I was not under any drug influence. I was in misery where I had been since I had woken up.

Watched Ellen. Missed group. Cleaned up a bit. Changed summer to winter clothes.

Tom is home early with pretty yellow roses.

I say, Thank you.

I am angry about something. Our communication shuts down from so many years of doing it one way. Before, I would get hurt and angry at you, or put a mask of I’m fine on and that kept you happy if I seemed fine. We have covered that I took that anger that I had not dealt with and redirected it to myself and it became the dance of my psyche.

I have just learned, again, that I have tried, on a few different occasions, to deal with abusing my husband. It has come into my thoughts so many times over the last three years and I want to lay it to rest. It is such a large anchor. I will just cut the line and just be.

I am seeing a new therapist tomorrow to help slow down my thoughts and figure things out. Why have I stopped diary cards? I feel not worthy.

My positive book was axed because I need a positive and negative book together, my nice counselor tells me.

I have been hiding and avoiding and when I start saying YES, then the cycle restarts. I just need the right moment in time to be perpetually, steadily going forward in real time. He plays the wounded soldier card every time and I back down. This time we play it out. I read to him my story. I cry. He cries, a little. He says that I am too hard on myself. Yes, I am too hard on myself. He was being thoughtful tonight with the flowers and the offer to walk the mall, perhaps trying to get me out. I love him for trying but I must treat him badly so I can get rid of some of my pain so I can deal with real time stuff like living in the moment, experiencing and feeling, both, at the same time and such shameful feelings can co-exist in balance and I will need