I’m never sure if this is just people or people with BPD OR that people with BPD experience it slightly differently, but this whole seasonal depression malarkey is exhausting.
One moment I am literally using every mental tool in my toolbox to get me out from under the quilt to function, and I literally mean function. Put one foot in front of the other and get from bed to bathroom. Then out of nowhere I will have a flood of emotion, might be guilt, might be grief, might be joy occasionally even love, and it will consume me. The intensity of it will be such that I cannot separate myself from it when left to myself, let me clarify. For instance, say in the shower, I might be overcome with anger over nothing. Or walking up the stairs I might feel lighter and happier by the time I reach the top for no apparent reason. These things may not sound particularly poignant, but these emotions are all I am.
And then there is my vocational self. This is my third person. This is my reason that I will always get up when I’m mentally drowning. My calm for the anger, my reality for the joy. Nursing brings me all of that. It’s one of the most popular questions I’m asked; why did you become a nurse? And I don’t think I’ve ever given a truly honest answer. I’ve never lied, but I’ve never said it like that. Maybe I should.
Nurses at Christmas, it’s a funny phenomenon really. I don’t think any nurse can really have thought that they would never be needed over this time of year? I get that we all have families and we all want to enjoy it. But we knew what we were signing up for and in all honesty, it’s normally really lovely working Christmas. The one day patients are so grateful to you. And the bonus of getting away with tinsel in your hair and Christmas earrings!