I wish I could explain why I am now sitting in an Internet Cafe blogging, but I won't. Today has been enough of a mother of a doody day.
There were a few aggravations at work. Then, there were problems accessing my favourite blogs.
Then I had to run a training session for staff development. Teaching always sucks me dry, and even though the class went well, I am beyond exhausted. Physically and emotionally.
Then I had a session (monthly) with my pdoc. I can't even explain what we talked about. But I basically felt as though he thought that if my "attitude" was right, I'd be happy. So he was implying that it was all my fault. I've never connected with this guy. I always thought he was only there to prescribe meds. But apparently he wanted me to talk about my progress, my treatment, and explain where I am at. He called me "aloof" and "detached" and said that if I didn't start contributing to my treatment plan, he was going to dump me. That comment alone was enough to kick my BPD traits into high gear, and yes, I panicked. I started talking. Fast. And in the end, it didn't feel good at all. Not at all like the way I feel after a session with V. I felt like I said too much, and now I wish I didn't.
I get back to work, and I get an email from a job I applied for. I didn't make the shortlist. That, for some reason, made me want to burst into tears. It's been a long time since I've felt that way. I can't believe this feeling is back, and with such vengence. Like I could cry for everything that went wrong today, and everything that has ever gone wrong in my life. It's just one big ball of fear, sadness and pain.
After work, I drive to C's to see if I could get a hug. No one home. Still away from the weekend it looks like.
So here I am. In an Internet Cafe. I hate Internet Cafes.
It's gonna be a long tough night ahead. Please pray for me.