Wow, I’ve been away so long on an exciting vacation! Not really, I just got a job, saw some hippos swimming and listened to a woman in Victorian garb giving me one word answers.  One of those was a hallucination.

I fell asleep on the sofa and awoke to a woman in Victorian clothing, content to call my name and dispense advice in a three syllable word.  I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming, but I called out “what?” in a startled voice, and she just nodded her head and said “attrition.”

Well, of course I looked it up, and I absolutely chose the definition that works best for me:

the action or process of gradually reducing the strength or effectiveness of someone or something through sustained attack or pressure.

I tried to bargain with her in my head, because I knew she meant I needed to stop obsessing over some things, one thing in particular being a man, but I promised I would be ever vigilant about signs of a bipolar episode, never letting my guard down, always taking preventative measures.  She didn’t seem content until I acknowledged that it was the guy.

Did I listen to her, to myself, or whatever?  No.  I mean, I tried.  I really did.  But eventually I had to learn that I have some symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder as well, and that maybe it’s time to take it seriously.  That was in February, and I was a mess.   But hey, I’ve already had DBT therapy for bipolar, and it’s a suggested therapy for Borderline, so I’m thinking I got a bargain; two mental illnesses for the price of one therapy.

Those old time feelings of abandonment are creeping in with another relationship and I am handling it well.  I keep the image of the Victorian woman in my head as a reminder; I picture her smiling, showing off her newest dress sewn entirely in DBT diary cards.