…that get you down.
I know, I know – the saying’s supposed to go “It’s the simple things in life that give you pleasure”, but the reverse is also true. It’s the simple things that have the ability to bring your world crashing down around you.
For me, last week it was cutting the garden hedges. I was still in a good mood from my lovely holiday with Lovely Boyfriend, even though he’d disappeared offshore the previous day. I’d taken Mad Mutt for a walk (more on her later in the week) in the nice sunshine and then…
Then I made the terrible decision to tackle my garden hedges.
I like working in my garden, especially seeing the flowers and plants blooming for a second year running, knowing I haven’t killed them off. Cutting the grass is a necessary evil, but I get it done every week or two (weather permitting) and feel a sense of achievement afterwards.
Not so with the hedges.
I don’t know what it is, but I hate cutting them. My arms end up aching from the “light” power trimmer I bought specifically for the job. Then there are the bits I have to do with the loppers. Then there’s the incredibly prickly and wild bit that’s come out of nowhere, all brambly and threatening to scratch small children as they walk past, or eat small dogs. Even with thick gardening gloves, that bit still manages to draw blood. Then there’s the sweeping up of the remains and somehow transferring it all into the wheelie bin. It feels like it takes me forever and the only thing I’ve achieved at the end of it is a headache.
My mood went from perfectly happy to perfectly black. Instantly. I ended up stopping after five minutes and one tiny section because I was just too damned depressed to continue. Thankfully, Lovely Boyfriend (weirdo that he is), has promised to tame the rest of the hedge when he returns home as he *quote* “loves” trimming hedges.
It really threw me, how bad my mood got from such a simple thing. There was no need for me to get so upset for so long, but I did because that’s the nature of the BPD game for you. It really reminded me how much my life can be dictated by my moods and how my moods can be dicated by my life. Get me doing something that puts my mood down, and I’m digging bedrock instantly. Before my diagnosis, nobody understood how asking me to do a “simple” task could lead to an emotional torrent of tears and snot, least of all myself. Now, at least, I vaguely understand what’s going on as it happens.
Do I wish I could “just” get on with it? – yes. Would I rather be able to cope with “simple” tasks? – yes. Can I guarantee it won’t happen again? – not a chance. Can I even predict what simple tasks will plunge me into the depths of despair? – again, not a chance.
That’s one of the realities of life with BPD. Simple things can bring a heck of a lot of pleasure (hence my insane, happy, clappy dance that makes Lovely Boyfriend laugh), but they also have the ability to bring a heck of a lot of pain.
Believe me, those of us living with BPD wish that weren’t the case just as much as you.