I did for a period, though I think I was mostly still teetering on the edge most of that time. Nowadays I embrace and appreciate my stability. It truly is a relief, after so many years.

When I did self-sabotage, in the past, I wouldn't say I did so because I thought "it was what I deserved". I think in my case, I was just plain afraid of having (or being able) to act normal (or rather do more "normal things") for fear of failing. "Failure" had never been in my youthful vocabulary, but it became so after the beginning of the worst years of my illness. I had had some major embarrassments and humiliations. Mental and physical explosions and crashes. I began to feel weak or lacking control. I seemed suddenly incapable, after having lived a very confident "Teflon" existence before. I felt psychological pain most intensely during my worst years. I wanted to hide to be safe. Having to come out of figurative hiding put me in jeopardy, in my mind. An exposed sensitive underbelly.

It has taken lots of time, but I am now more confident to step out beyond my previous safe haven. I've done so a little at a time, baby steps, and yet my recent move has been a comparative leap. I can't help but think that moving to another country gives me a fresh start, in a sense. I didn't do it alone, though. I still have my dear hubby, my Rock and Love. With him, I feel safe. Where I am now, I feel I have only forward to go.