A Measure of Hope

I don’t where to start with this one, but in so many of my posts, I have demonstrated extreme rage towards my pastor. I have also invalidated another person with whom I’d grown very close to over the course of our friendship (she is the one who brought me those nifty tools to use to keep me safe at night during my midnight walks even while vilifying her).

As much as I have disparaged my pastor publically via this venue, there is something else I must do equally as public. I realized that I had to let go of all of the anger and hostility I have felt towards him. In addition, I have to come to understand how valuable my friendship is with him. I recognize that these emotions and thoughts regarding both of these individuals were irrational.

Today marks one month since I tried to commit suicide. This afternoon they came over to my house at my request. I needed to apologize to both of them for the unkind ways in which I treated them through my various posts. I realize now that their only motivation is one of compassion and concern. I didn’t see that in the midst of my turmoil. For the first time, I believed that it was possible for someone to care for me that much. I have to learn to accept that at face value—it is what it is. To know in my heart that their friendship and just as important, their acceptance of who I am while wrestling with BP and BPD, is a hard concept for me to accept. Nevertheless, I believed everything supportive and loving they said to me.

Having rejected everyone—by any means necessary—letting these two individuals back into my life brings me a measure of hope that I haven’t felt before. I discovered that I can use these tools to overcome at least one of my BPD hurdles.  Today I took off my mask, even if it was for a little while©2009