Just another BPD moment

Two days ago I decided that I would try to make peanut butter cookies.

The cookie dough has been sat in the fridge for two days in a plastic container and today I chose to finally cook them.

Today my Mum & Step-Dad have been trying to get some stuff done. They have this way of talking to each other sometimes, where they ‘pretend’ to say things that you wouldn’t normally say to people. ‘God sake, you got crisp marks on my paper’, and one of them wanted to print something off and the other wanted something else.

So, the computer that’s attached to the printer is in ‘my’ room, and like, two weeks ago I was sat in there watching TV and the speakers for the computer started making that weird feedback noise that you usually hear when your mobile phone is nearby. I haven’t bothered to charge my phone since I got here, because not only do I not have a sim card, I’m in America, and in the middle of nowhere. So I pulled the speaker cables out.

Mum came in and asked about the speakers and I went without an issue to put the cables back, but it felt like I’d been rude. I should have put the cables back. Then he wanted some CDs to burn something onto and I’d moved a bunch of stuff so I had space to write. The CDs were just on top of the speakers but he went to go and get some new ones and opened a whole new batch.

THEN, I was sat out in the living room and the telephone went off. I only worked it out when the dog started barking (I was listening to music on my computer whilst playing Civ 5) I thought he would get it in ‘my’ room because there’s a phone in there, but then he came out and got the phone in here, and then I was thinking okay I must have done something to the phone in there.

When he finally finished and came out again I asked him if he was mad, and then if he was cross, and he said no both times but I guess I felt so strongly that he clearly was frustrated. I’d caused frustration and to make it worse I’d decided to bake these cookies at a time when I knew asking my Mum for help would make her frustrated because she was busy doing something else, so I went and did it myself.

I ended up first with a batch of cookie tin shaped mass and they didn’t look right and it was a mess and I was so frustrated and I really shouldn’t have been. I thought maybe I’d just put too many on at once. When it came to putting the second batch in, I left more space for them and then my Mum, who had finished everything came over to look and said ‘oh’.

She wasn’t angry, she didn’t use an angry voice, she asked me if I’d baked cookies before and I said ‘not these ones’ and she showed me how she would have pressed down just a little on the balls of dough instead of squishing them right down. I felt so dumb, and it seemed like such a waste of ingredients! I just got so frustrated with myself. I’m not even angry though, it’s like a vague sensation of nothing.

Then I dropped the last few dough balls on the floor and that was that really.

It took me a long time to learn to settle my temper. I’ve had to, because I’ve always been so aware of how emotionally abusive I can be – and just related it to treating people badly. So I don’t blow off steam, but I guess now I just get sad. Maybe it would have been different if I’d had other day-to-day things to think about, but right now when my only real worry right now is trying to keep my sleeping schedule ‘normal’ there are no other inputs. None!

Mum tried hard to pep me up, and I told her what I was feeling and how I was sure I’d made my Step-Dad mad, and she said he would tell me if he was and that I was making something out of nothing and I told her I KNEW I was making something out of nothing – but it doesn’t help with the feeling that settles in your gut, or sort of, all around your insides, under your heart and under your rib cage like something you want to rip out and get rid of.

I still cried. I still found it hard to find a ‘settled’ feeling inside me.

Living here with so few ‘contributing factors’ has made me see what my BPD is like, I guess in it’s purest form – or something like that. It’s how easily I get upset by things, and how hard I find it to understand when my Mum & Step-Dad really are cross, or when they’re just messing about. Mum raises her voice a lot, and she’s always yelled at me about things that apparently she wasn’t really yelling about. It’s difficult for me to even explain a situation, but they enjoy doing it.

My Step-Dad will be sat on the recliner, watching TV, on his laptop with the little dog beside him. Mum will ask him if he wants anything because she’s making a cup of tea, and he’ll say ‘Yeah! I want Ice Cream, with cake and chocolate sauce’ and she’ll say ‘I don’t know what your last slave died of’ and he’ll make some other remark and this– I can handle now because it’s every day and I know they really get a kick out of it because they’re all smiles and laughing.

When it’s in other situations sometimes I just– I don’t know it freaks me out. I was trying to explain how confused I get to them, and they both burst out laughing saying something like ‘you can be abusive to me dear’ and I know to them it’s NOT abusive, but I wasn’t sure if I was being stupid for being like I am. I don’t find it funny when people make jokes like that, it’s something I thought was ‘wrong’ behaviour when I realised I was doing it to one of my ex girlfriends and I thought it was just the way I’d been brought up and no it wasn’t right, but I could change and I try to change.

It’s just so confusing.


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