I’ve tweeted a few times, but I wanted to make a more formal statement that people could find more easily. The heading could also be “Why My Website Is Out of Date” or “Why I Haven’t Answered Your Letter Yet.”
As many of you know, I have Borderline Personality Disorder. I’ve been in treatment since around 2004, and have had it pretty much licked since about 2013. So much so that in the back of my mind I thought I was “cured” and could go about living my life the way “normal” people do, and let all my various medicinal self-care rituals slide, bit by bit.
Then November happened. For a month or so we were focusing mostly on dealing with my intrusive thoughts of suicide. I am not a suicide risk–because of my children it is not an action I would ever perform no matter how much I desired it–but it’s amazing how much one’s life can be disrupted when every thought is answered with “What’s the point?” We got through that, and things were looking up. Had a wonderful trip to Detroit, Toronto, and Ottawa in January for my birthday. Then I finally finished the very belated draft of my third novel.
And then all hell broke loose. We’re still not sure what’s going on. There are physical symptoms at play too, and we’re trying to untangle cause/effect. It’s possible there’s something physically wrong, and the stress of it is making my mental state more fragile. It’s also possible that the BPD relapse has caused so much continuous stress that it has begun to affect various body systems. We’re doing all the things wise people do, making all the appointments, etc.
But I don’t feel safe traveling and socializing professionally when both my physical and mental health have, over the last month or more, consistently unraveled at even the slightest introduction of stress. Right now we are metaphorically installing padded bumpers in my life on all the sharp corners until I remember how to walk straight again. Reducing responsibilities, simplifying my social life, all of that.
The bright side is that I’ve been here before, and I actually know all the steps I need to take to get better. But it’s also a situation where a lot of those steps are things I can’t do until I’m at least a little better. So it becomes a sort of triage situation. And I don’t know how long it will take.
As of this moment I feel optimistic about 4th Street Fantasy in June, but I’m almost certain I won’t be worth much of a damn to anyone but me before then. My apologies to anyone to whom I made commitments, and to any people who worry I don’t love them anymore. The love is still there, but it’s packed away in boxes until such time as the simple daily maintenance of existence doesn’t feel quite so grueling.
Have no fear; I’ll definitely see you on the other side.