Posts Tagged ‘Generalized anxiety disorder’

…Is the knowing that there is no cure , no medication, nor merely a bandaid to put over my furiously rampant monster of illnesses.

I’ve gotten to this point , slowly but steadily. A bumpy and painful decent.

Despair doesn’t always come across in conversation, but it does sit on the back burner in view.

Reading a memoir of journal entries by a courageous man with borderline personality , addiction issues, and major depression is comforting , yet it also triggers the thought that yes, I may struggle for the rest of my life.

In addition, I have a handful more that I’m lucky enough to call part of me, so I’m definitely a goner. Right ?

I am not one to count my illnesses as if it’s a game or a competition, but I can’t help but think .. “I have double the diagnosis as this poor guy. “How am I still alive? ”

And what for? To shun all my friends only to share seemingly random pictures and blogs?

To create some art that stems from the abstract and unusual thinking of my broken mind ?

Well, I guess for now it’s something.

I’ve begun recording every day-my thoughts, emotions, situations, successes and also failures.

I have a recorder on my phone , plenty of space on both of my cameras to make videos ,two ongoing journals ( one for my mental illnesses, and one to record tarot readings of my own and of other readers )

Is my purpose simply to show that one can survive excruciating agony and still be in awe of a new leaf on a plant I started from seed? Or to deeply enjoy such things as a birds song , or the thriving vegan movement I’ve been cheering for for 3 years ?

There is such a dichotomy to my mind. Such confusion and different choices to make over a seemingly mundane tasks. Like, which side of the table should this plant go on?

My illnesses can seem to melt together and actually become me , speak for me , BE me -or , I can sometimes find a slight hole to peek out from and shine for a moment or two.

But one thing is for sure , I never , ever have a full day of consistent mood , thoughts, or actions. I just don’t grasp what that’s like , sadly.

( later that day..)

As I slammed my door with tears streaming from the echoes of my doctors subtle yet clear voice to use what I have learned to ” cope”, the thoughts of driving into the river , or screaming for help in the middle of a parking lot appeared as if they’d been next in line anyway.

I refuted these impulses and grabbed my go to medicine. “Harm reduction”, I thought to myself , well knowing I was lying .

I came home and shut myself in, turned on my go-to , depressing Radiohead station, and with a haunting familiarity, lay motionless on my bed as if to mimic being in the coffin I already felt that I was in.

But then, almost to my chagrin, I decided to think of how loved ones may perceive this. Probably with worry. No, most definitely.

Dbt decided to come into play without my permission, but I granted it just to see…

Then, my day turned around.

Maybe there is hope. Strategy , a distraction strong enough to grab my spinning emotions and have them spill out until it’s just me and my core feeling. Ready to grasp onto even the tiniest of spoken belief that there is always hope.

All this to say, if one person who you love and loves you -despite what you perceive as your innate ” flaws”, can see through the fog to a beautifully talented , inspiring and not so difficult to be around source of joy , then – maybe there is reason to stick around til the crowds clear and everyone is gone. What’s the harm ?

Having cleansed my overflowing volcano of of a heart with tears attached to many different emotions , I feel at ease. Dare I say , content.

What a phenomenon . Maybe I wouldn’t be so lucky if dealt another’s hand. Okay, that’s enough positivity for one blog.

Remember to send love, and kindness if only through your energy to those who need it. You really never know how much they may be on the edge and that love could be the hand that helps them down.


Note : I will edit this tomorrow, so I apologize to the sticklers for any spelling or grammatical errors.


A match made in hell.

7-10 days out of every month where you lose yourself to your hormones , your weaknesses , cry over spilled (nut)milk, feel like you are coming down with every illness , fatigued, brain fog, irritable, likely to lash out , not likely to stay in wise mind , likely to self medicate ( to the point of accidental OD) simply from someone you cared for stabbing you in the heart with one sentence , complete loss of control you felt just days ago, worsening on all your mental illnesses, body aches , pains, headaches,cramping,excessive binging ,weepiness, and more.

As if we with bpd and co morbid illnesses need a guarantee every month to be thrown into constant tests of strength , fight for ownership over our mind and body, and loss of motivation.

This is the week that I’m likely to spiral and have dramatic sudden breakdowns and failures. I’m never prepared. And I’m always fearful.

Sometimes complete solitude and fetal position are required as the clock ticks waiting for day one of my cycle to begin.

Love to other women who suffer immensely due to their hormones, PMS and PMDD plus mental illness.

I understand.


What a gorgeous day all around. I woke with the sunrise (455), got up, sat outside with my garden and incense , and began improving my vegetable garden.

I felt good. No need to mood boosters or the fight to destroy mood drops. It’s actually easier than taking a pill. If you focus hard enough on your goals and what you love, you can escape the trap of chaos and begin to step into your power

I did a tarot reading, with a high spirit and glee. Funny enough, my cards reflected ending my old way of life, and following my new path to happiness. A complete change is just what I needed.

With this change , which began on the full moon May 29th, I felt a strong need to be assertive and stand my ground with people like my old landlord ( long story), or people who have kept me wrapped up in anxiety and disrespecting me . Leo’s aren’t fond of that. I’m not fond of things that are morally wrong ( not at all saying I haven’t gone down that path), and just bask in the guidance that I’ve been given the gift of feeling with my entire self.

I spent a lot of time with my parents , and really using my dbt without noticing , except for that there have been zero fights since I moved back closer to them. I cherish my family. I CAN move past my upbringing.

I know my strengths , and I will use them, without the noise of doubt or repeating old cycles.

I really feel like I have gained self respect, and let go of ideals and things that I once held dear.

It really is a huge shift and the universe is propelling me into my next chapter. I hope I remember this feeling tomorrow.

I can only hope my upcoming PMDD won’t suck me back into the pits and darkness of my mental illnesses.

However , I’ve done it a thousand times and survived. So, I will be confident that I will again.

Thanks for reading ,

Your borderline gal,


So, as I age, learn from life , make mistakes , take different meds, get off meds, move new places , have hindsight , do years of therapy, blah blah blah ,

It sometimes is a sort of math problem that solves itself and presents me with the solution that I don’t just suddenly see, but I FEEL.

People know that I’m a very spiritually connected, intuitive tarot , lenormand and rune reader. I have been for years now. 3-4 I think.

I stopped doing public readings out of nowhere , and I am almost ready to again ( yay!), but this led me to really hone in on my gift and nail down how to read cards ( and runes) in a glance.

It’s been eye opening , helpful in many ways, harsh in others – but it’s part of me now.

Sometimes I stop what I’m doing and pull them all out and do a huge reading in less than 5 minutes. Almost as if I was taken over by a force and then boom- here Cory- LOOK.

I do admit, reversals still surprise and meanings can escape me. But I do pay special attention to them.

I feel like … I really know what I should do. Like deeply know the truth of things- of people , of my family , of my habits, my past, my friends , my ex’s, so on.

With wisdom comes a blinding and unavoidable responsibility to address what constantly taps on my shoulder as a reminder of what I put off.

You know, like things I know I should be doing, shouldn’t be doing, people I should be more honest with, people I should shake off altogether , and perhaps lessons and karma that came knocking at my door that I’ve been running from for some time. I’m sort of very wise but dumb in that I don’t live in alignment with my own wisdom ,-if that makes sense

I think we all have a connection to the universe.

To what some would refer to as God.

To our ” gut” ( there is science behind what we call gut feelings ).

The worst is when we know we’re going against those gut feelings , just to not ruffle any feathers, or simply because it makes life more tolerable.

I’m a Leo , and that means you can think of me like a house cat. I’m extremely loyal, affectionate ( when I feel like it ), independent , and also can sense things coming .. or sense something bad when I see it and I will hiss to get away.

Sometimes, I’ll use my claws when you thought you were petting me gently and properly.

This is simply how it is. It’s my nature. Not an excuse. Not something I can change.

Anyway, I think my point was about knowing.

Today, I choose to continue to follow my gut , the pull from my guides and cards , and what I am consistently thinking ( no matter what bpd throws me into and then out of ), and I guess I just simply don’t care if the claws have to come out.

Perhaps, the person on the receiving end didn’t see it coming, but should think about why the cat hissed and scratched.

Was it a mood? Or was it a knowing. Was it time to happen? The dam breaks eventually. Right ?

A tip for Borderlines who are trying to decide on something but don’t trust themselves , because they have the illness and are told they don’t live in reality ( I was told that before ). Give it time. A few days, or maybe even a week. If you still consistently feel that way, then perhaps go with it. You may not know why, and you may even find out later, only to gain insight from hindsight, like I mentioned earlier.

Clarity can be found amongst the chaos in our worlds. Sometimes if we sit still long enough, and just think about how and why we feel that way, we could be right.

We could just find that reason. In wise mind, in our gut, in our soul.

We aren’t always acting out of sudden reactive emotions.




It’s one of those eye opening times for me.

You see , I had a traumatic experience back in The winter which left me with zero desire to chase, date, be with sexually ,or pine after anyone. I mean anyone. Funny how something that I was not so long ago addicted to, means absolutely squat to me now.

To the point where if we talk for half a day and the convo is just dropped, I really don’t flinch. Somehow , I stopped caring. I don’t want that anymore.

I feel no need whatsoever to get wrapped up in a ball of sadness, madness, increased symptoms , crying, raging, memories, self destroying , etc- over attaining love.

And for us, as previously stated – it is almost always unattainable. We subconsciously set ourselves up for the fight. For ultimate doom.

Being on the outside , and having many many close people in my world from day to day, suddenly there has been this incoming hurricane of destruction in the lives of so many that I once knew as themselves , forging their way through life like the rest of us. Winning some, losing some.

But I began to notice just how inexplicably blind we become by the idea of love. Of being cared for. Of having that someone , or else we are nothing. We don’t know who the he’ll to be or who we were.

It’s really strange , and I can’t say I’ve felt this way before , but my complete hatred for the idea of love as a borderline has sent me into being quite oppositional and confrontational with these people.

One the one hand, I truly KNOW the experience. But, I also know the likelihood of succeeding to fill our love bucket that has a gaping hole in the bottom.

It’s gotten me down, avoidant , into a lesser type of splitting.

More like sternness. More like – I cannot hear another word about how these criminal animals have RUINED who I know you are. The beautiful person I see outside of bpd.

I simply cannot take in the pain I know they feel and the back and fourth traumatic drama as long as these men are around.

So why, if we have any self reflection at all, and try to be as calm, happy, and cope with this illness the best we can, do we build this lie and beat the horse until it’s skeleton is crushed into dust. Why?

Is it me? Am I now an outside to the idea of finding love because it’s been several months ?

I wish for it to end. I wish to be blunt and cut off any ties as if to say, ” if you continue, I can’t be a part of it “. It’s simply so devastating to see, and it is painful. It’s brutality against oneself. And that’s not what I ever wanted for these beautiful people.

Enough of that. I think I made my point.

My own reality stared at me intensely through my cards today as if to point the finger directly at my weakness. Tell me that it’s over if I continue on my own borderline path of self destruction.

But who am I girl, who am I.

I thank you for reading. Best,


I am speaking for myself , and for the many women and men I’ve met over the last 4 years who’ve been generous enough to share their stories .

Tonight My mind is clear, and I’m thinking straight.

The full moon had me completely disordered and lost ( see yesterdays post), and then I wake up today as normal and can be for me.

The whole day too. What an oddity.

These are the days I tune in deeply to my friends stories ,and their pain.

What similarities do I find within their stories .. what parallels , what jumps out , what have I figured out or been taught in therapy as to why we brood and contemplate living over this one , root cause of our pain which undeniably sets the tone for a life of emotional dysfunction ?


Beginning with familial, our earliest experience of the emotion.

Most of the time , we are abandoned , unwanted , abused , etc by one or both of our parents. Some worse or more obvious than others.

My story didn’t come to make sense until my thirties, but I digress.

” What is life without love !” , we hear. I often wish this emotion didn’t exist. And I often get my wish and don’t feel anything for anyone. Thanks BPD, sometimes you do something right.

Well, to us with bpd. It is non existent.

Often, we don’t even exist to ourselves if not being intensely cherished by someone we crave , want, wanted, or for any reason.

We don’t even really truly want it if we could easily get it. That’s the twist.

But when we knew someone wants us, wishes for us, thinks about us enough, or a lot , or even pleads for a word from us – we seem to feel quite well.

Why? Because that’s what we missed as children. Our life’s mission is to fill that void.

Some of us don’t make that connection, But I did.

Actually, to the extent of my psychiatrist drawing bone chilling parallels from my partners to my father.

Whether it was emotionally unavailable men, bi polar or psychopathic men, men with similar appearances , men who would use and/or abuse, there was always a tie to the past. Oh, and throw in a woman who was so much like my mother that my sexual connection shorted out.

An unfulfilled wish that quite frankly, would never cease until I understood the complexity , the darkness, but alas the simplicity of the connection.

I just wanted him to love me unconditionally. He was incapable, for reasons I understand now and have forgiven him for.

As an adult , I now know his story , his side , see his growth and willingness to see the pain he caused as an unfit parent for decades.

That, is why my time with the wrong men is over. Thank you ISTPD therapy. Thank you.

Now, I suffer for my friends who beat themselves to a pulp over the perceived or real loss of the current Love interests likelihood of meeting their expectations.

Usually, we attract narcissists and other mentally ill partners. Sometimes the relationship( or lack thereof) would be truly absurd to someone without bpd.

To me, I see it all from the standpoint of a borderline with enough knowledge, experience and understanding of the borderline mind , and the never met needs that we have for the subconsciously chosen unfit love interest.

We just want to be loved unconditionally. That’s ALL. Seems simple. Right?

But guess what, in my experience – a ” regular” guy that had genuine care and interest for me – pfft. Go away. I don’t want you in the slightest. I have actually experienced sick physical reactions to nice men. That comes from a childhood experience that remains unclear.

I’ll go after the psychopath with a girlfriend and take that abuse for 4 years and end up with Stockholm syndrome. Yep. That was my choice.

I’ll make a part two… but perhaps this is enlightening for someone. Remind me, because tomorrow I could be talking gibberish about my addiction and hate for people. Who knows. Only the wicked person behind the borderline wheel.

Thanks for reading,


Ps- not in the mood to edit. 🙂

Over time , I’ve become a stranger to myself. Every day, is a brand new life. I remember what I have to do, I remember what I own , my friends , etc – but what I don’t know is how I’m going to be, or…when I will be that way…

A year ago ,I wouldn’t have said this.

I was running 3 YouTube channels and answering every comment.

I was working , without any personal life issues melting into my professional life. That’s not the case these days. I contemplate hospitalization and suicide more than ever.

1-2 years ago I was doing private readings all weekend.

I pretty much knew my routine , knew a lot.

I didn’t realize how stable I was, until now. And I thought I had it bad then. Is this my fate? My fault? The lack of psychiatric care?

I’m unrecognizable. I’ve lost all sense of self. I change sometimes from minute to minute. My addictions , obsessions , compulsions and disorders mould one massive ghost hanging over me, releasing parts of itself at random.

I have to deal. I have to survive what’s thrown at me. All the whole remaining a friendly face to the world. Remembering who I am to them.

Right now, I don’t trust anyone. I don’t even trust my own feelings. My behaviour since being brutally attacked and bullied and abused over the last few years has done something permanent to me.

Especially since November 17′. I’ve spiralled frequently.

I take dangerous amounts of downers without a second thought. I drift through the day floating on empty and going through the motions of the life I vaguely remember my plan for.

Sometimes I click in. Ahh, there I am. I’m funny , I’m creative and have brilliant plans for the future. If I could take a video of those moments and watch them days later , it would be like watching a distant twin speaking another language.

I worry often that I’m suffering from more than my 5 diagnosis.

I worry that 8 medications is criminal. I worry about worrying.

I apparently binge eat now. I just… don’t care. Days like this I dissociate and enjoy not feeling like this is my life.

I don’t know what else to do to make it. But every morning I wake up, and I take on the fucking challenge.


Oh, we all know that with bpd we go up and down more than a pogo stick.

When were down, everything is dark. Scary, negative. Unfair. Deserving of hatred.

Then one day, we wake up and think ( well I do ..) – yay!! Sunshine and flowers! I love life and everything that it contains!! Let’s listen to music and dance in the kitchen! Let’s start 20 conversations with people I ADORE ( but hated it felt slighted by yesterday ).

Let me love bomb life, people, and myself. I LOVE MAKEUP AND BEING CREATIVE.

There’s not enough time in the day to enjoy all that I see and have! Omg ! Maybe if I just..prolong this. Stay up super late. Don’t eat because it brings my energy down. Skip my calming meds. I just want to LIVE THIS MOMENT.

Eventually , the crash comes. The trigger hits. The inevitable downfall of everything that was sunny a moment ago, becomes the enemy.

I want to die. I hate them. I hate myself. I’m horrible. I’m not talking to anyone. I want triple my meds. I don’t care if I don’t wake up.

And , this is my cycle. Worst part is, I never know, and can not figure out how to be consistent. It’s a spinning wheel and my mind chooses where the dart lands.

Welcome, to borderline personality disorder.


Always reminding myself when I have days upon days of anxiety, depression, massive adhd and ocd challenges , and of course – borderline moods and everything that comes at random in the lovely package deal, that I KNOW… this too shall pass. No feeling is final.

After 35 years, when I am in the depths of mental hell, I still cannot believe my own attempt at self comfort. I feel like I am and always have been stuck in the exact feeling I am in. But that’s not true. Why can’t I KNOW, it will come up again. I’ll regain clarity, motivation, joy.

It’s such a bizarre and messed up mental catastrophe , which seems different yet so similar each time – and no matter what people I love reassure me of , I just deeply do not , and I mean outright refuse to consider.

Now that I am back to ” myself ” , I don’t even remember those 4 straight days of anguish and pain.

I suppose there are two sides to every coin. This selective amnesia can actually be of help. I don’t WANT to remember yesterday’s pain. I’m actually forced into mindfulness by squeezing every last drop of good that is my current yet fleeting existence while it lasts.

How long? Only my mind can decide. Or can I? The quest is never ending. But I’m still here. I’m still here.



So, some non Borderlines may not know that yes , we often and for some constantly split on ourselves .

I made a video about this in my past life on YouTube.

What splitting on ourselves looks like :

” you’re a fucking failure ”

” you’re a waste of air ”

” you’re better off dead. ”

” I’m insane. Awful. Pitiful. Ugly. Unworthy. Unwanted. Etc ”

” I don’t want to hurt them, I want to hurt/kill me ”

” I don’t deserve anything good ”

” I am a fraud , a narc , and everything everyone I’ve ever known has called me”

I think you get the point.

Do we idolize ourselves you ask? Well, for some – perhaps. For others, perhaps never. No borderline is the same. We all have different lives , pasta and problems, AND different concurrent disorders.

Personally , when I’m hypo manic, I have complete faith in myself and confidence that I can do this ( live ).

I find those ” moods” to be precious, and I constantly wish to be in that place. But alas, it passes and our baseline returns. Whatever that looks like to each one. I can only speak for myself.

Thanks for reading.