I'm not sure I have the words to answer this but I'll try... On one
hand, being diagnosed with BPD gives me an identity that I don't have
to force myself into. I don't have to "put on a face" to be borderline.
I don't have to dress a certain way nor hang with the right crowd.
I just have to be. Finally, I know who I am....
...and it SUCKS!
I've spent my whole life asking "who am I" and the answer turns out
to be someone who spends their whole life asking "who am I?" I'm still
a cipher! The answer to the question has always been another question! I
guess that's why it's so easy for me to become depressed and suicidal.
Since I can't answer the first question the second question eventually
takes over: "Why bother?"
"What would I most want others to know about BPD?"
A person with BPD tends to be "emotionally illiterate." I know
that for myself, I've spent so many years protecting myself from
strong emotions that I've taught myself to invalidate all of my
feelings. I've put up a mental glass-firewall. I can see the strong
emotions through the "glass" but if I put my hand up to it,
nothing. Maybe a little warmth but not the real thing...I feel so
disconnected from myself that I'm no longer sure I'm accurately
identifying what I'm feeling. I remember, during my first
hospital stay, how frustated my Primary RN got with me one
day. She'd asked me how I felt and I'd answered fine. She threw
up her hands and 'yelled' at me. "You just attempted suicide!
You cut your own wrist with a broken beer bottle and you can't
talk to any of the staff without having tears in your eyes! You do
not feel fine!" She than preceded to get a poster with 50 cartoon
faces drawn on it, each one representing an emotion.
"Pick one!", she told me. I couldn't. I couldn't find anything on
there that seemed to fit me. Besides, maybe I'd pick the wrong one? It
didn't help matters when I asked her what she thought I should
pick.
It was the next day when my doctor coined the phrase
"emotionally illiterate". It's taken me about two years now to
fully understand what she meant.
"How do I feel treated by therapist?"
Some pretty strong words come to mind. Invalidated probably
best describes it. Every since the BP diagnosis was put in my
records therapist and doctors have treated me as if I were
deliberately trying to "be sick"... Or planning on "acting out". I
got myself admitted to a VA substance abuse treatment center.
The staff psychiatrist and my counselor immediately began the
process of containing me. I was threatened with discharge three
times during my intake interview! What was so frustrating was
that I wasn't doing anything to warrent being treated that way.
If another person had asked a question of the doctor the doctor
would have simply considered the patient curious. He treated
my like I was challenging his authority at every turn. He even
inventoried all of the scars on my arms and leg and had my
counselor do surpise checks to see if anything fresh had shown
up. I was scared to walk down the hallway for fear of bumping
into something, getting scratched and ending up thrown out of
the program. It was about a week after being there before my
counselor realized I hadn't acted out in any way. He pulled me
aside and said he thought that maybe they'd been treating me a
little too harshly...what did I think? A terse "yes you have" had
to subsitute for the images of my pummeling him senseless
running through my head.
I managed to graduate the program but instead of leaving the
facility they escorted me across the street to one of the psyche
wards. I was clean and sober and way too depressed from the
whole expirience to be allowed back into the "great-wide-open".
Jeff B.
Working things through for me...
I now know officially what is wrong with me. I have also learned a
lot of reasons why I am this way. It isn't about the things I initially
thought.
It's a combination of things. Amazingly even some genetic things.
I believe that I was born a sensitive child. What I mean by that is
that I was very in tune with my surroundings and even others feelings.
I was programmed to take life in general a little differently and a
little harder than most.
Take that and put it with lots of seemingly tiny things throughout
my life and it adds up to one BIG thing--borderline personality
disorder.
Now, this isn't about blame, I don't want to do that. The only
purpose it serves is to hurt others and I know I don't want anyone to
hurt. I've been there and I hate it. What this is about is education.
Events have happened, things have been done that cannot be reversed
and now it's about learning to un-learn thought and behavioral patterns
for me. It's about showing others how to be with me, how to talk to me,
what to say to me and what not to say. In large part it is about
boundaries. This is my new "thing". Boundaries. I like that word...
it's a safe word for me. It means putting up fences or even walls and
not allowing people to get inside me too far. It's about giving others
a chance to exist near me without being burdened by my every thought
and feeling. It's about making my space a safe place for *me*.
I never knew about boundaries. I never knew that violating boundaries
meant telling someone too much about myself. I never knew that it was me taking
control and opening their gate or door and making them know me. I never knew
that it was about wanting to know too much about others. I didn't know that
it was about giving others some free time to exist as seperate entities from
me. For those who are close to me, who touch my life, it's hard. Daily they
are forced to open their doors yet again and let me in.
A boundary also means that others need to respect what I want and accept
it--at least for me. Even if it goes against something they believe. It's about
allowing me to be me, even if who I may want to be doesn't fit what you want
for me. It's believing me when I say I am okay, and even if I'm not, allowing
me to exist within myself and deal with it how I know how to. It's about
trust. It's about trying their level best to stand by their commitments and
to not violate things within me that are sacred. And in turn it's me not
invading their sacred places or backing down from commitments.
I am now beginning to learn that it is unfair of me to expect others to
live up to an impossible ideal that I seem to think exists within all of us. We are all
human, we all make and have made mistakes and we will again someday. And I
need to begin to make allowances for that. If I am far from perfect, why should I seek that in
others?
For now though, while I am on this healing journey there are some core
things that can help me along, help me to heal. My biggest thing is trust. I never
trusted because I saw no reason to. When you are a child and you place your trust in
another human being and they destroy it time and again you begin to learn
that trust is something not worth believing in. I trusted and what belonged
to me was taken even when I didn't want to give it away. No one asked me
before breaking down my walls, perhaps because they also didn't understand
boundaries. I never really understood that it was okay to put up walls, lock
doors and be me. And as a result, today my boundaries are non-exisitent.
Trust is a huge word for me because how can I expect to trust others if I
can't even trust myself? I need desperately for people to be honest about
what they do and who they are. I need them to respect my space and I need to
know that in turn I can do the same for them. And I need to be honest--truely
honest with myself. Even if it means making me angry.
I need to learn forgiveness too. By doing that and learning to trust, I
will be able to let go of the anger that boils inside the dark part of me. But I am also
*allowed* to be angry. As a child--before I understood boundaries--people
broke through mine. They made me feel that my private space didn't actually
belong to me. It was taken from me and even sometimes I gave it away thinking
that was the way to get someone to love me or want me. So when they turned me
away for one reason or another, I got angry at them and at myself because I
was unable to hold onto the one thing that belonged solely to me. I now need
to learn to forgive myself for allowing others inside my fence and forgive
myself for being a person that knocked down others. Until I do, I will stay
angry because I now understand what I own and what belongs to others.
Anger, the fire inside me. It rules my life right now and I feel I don't
even own that part of me. It's been apart of me for a long time and to conquer it will
mean a lot of hard work. It'll mean admitting things to myself and learning
to let go. Living in my realm and dealing with my tirades isn't easy for others. I know it stings,
even *really hurts* sometimes when I lash out but you need to understand my dynamics.
Anger is very scary for me. Watching from the outside how I behave and
watching others lose control is frightening. So I took my anger and stuffed it inside and turned
it into something that belonged only to me, self-hatred and depression. My depression
was my anger turned inwards. And now, the depression has been taken from me
thanks to some great anti-depressants and some dedicated doctors and now I
must face my anger. What makes it so hard for me is that I have to do this and be a mommy
and a wife and any number of other people at the same time. I now have to face the
demons inside me and make peace. I need to stop being angry about life and at
myself and begin to live again.
You must understand something else about me. What people say to me, I
internalize. All it takes is the simple casual one-time comment that the
color of my clothes don't match and I am obsessed for life about making sure that my
blues are exactly the right color of blues to wear together and if they aren't,
struggling to find ones that do at the expense of my time and happiness. I
know it sounds funny but to me this is reality. I discovered something this
past weekend. My husband told me that what he had said to me in the past,
something he only said once, I now act as if he reminds me about it daily.
And then it occured to me. He doesn't need to do that!!! I do it to myself.
Saying something about me, even making a casual joke penetrates a crack
somewhere in me and gets into the part of me that is insecure. If it's about
me in any way, shape or form, it becomes a large part of who I am. What a
person says to me feels like their way of trying to tell me what a mess I am.
Literally every word said to me is taken in and processed (sometimes over and
over and over) and integrated into my life. For me it's about pleasing
others, existing for others. An innocent comment made with the best
intentions to help me is made into this huge thing inside me and I am forever
worried about it. For others it is difficult to understand me. They say:
"Can't you take a joke?" or "You worry too much". But what they fail to
realize is that me, who I am, is someone who takes in everything and weighs
it against what is already inside me. I don't know why I am like this. I
don't know why it all matters so much. Maybe there is some chromosome for
thinking too much and I have it. Who knows and at this point it doesn't
really matter anymore.
I also need to learn how to turn down my emotional output too. I say too
much, I entrap people. Inside I am still very much like a small child. Others see my
reactions to events and think I am spoiled or too sensitve but for me I am
still trapped in a child's mind and I am coping with the world with these
child-like mechanisms. They work for me. I know them well. People run to kids
when they cry and nurture them. And they run to me when I become this child.
Mind you, it's not a choice I make. I don't sit there and think: "Okay, I'm
going to act like a child to make them come running". It is in fact an
automatic thing for me, the only way I know how to be...just as a child only
knows how to be a child. By being this way people become the thing that in
actuality I should become for myself and they fill up my emotional stores.
Sadly, for me it works every time. And much to other's dismay they find
themselves back in the position of rescuing this innocent child.
Therapy is teaching me--a 25 year old child--how to be an adult.
Strange huh? But true. It will be about changing my very thought processes and self-talk.
It's about needing validation only from myself and not needing to search it out in
others. It'll be about integrating contrasts and showing me the spectrum of colors that exist
in your world and are so very absent in mine. It'll be about accepting Melanie for
Melanie and seeing that she is a beautiful person inside and out who has wonderful
qualities all her own. I will no longer need to look into you, using you as
my mirror to reflect the image of me. I will have an image within me that has
an identity that I can draw on and shape by myself and change with each
passing day to fit who I want to be that day and not who *I* think *you* want
me to be.
And one last note for those who see me as healed now. I know what is
wrong with me, boy oh boy do I know. I've been told enough by my "self" and by
others. Being healed isn't always just about having the exact insight into
the problem. For me, it's about needing someone to show me how to solve the
problem because I am unable to find the way myself. This does not make me a
weaker person though just because you feel inside that *you* think it's easy
for me to change. The answer isn't crystal clear for me. For me it's a very
tall mountain to climb. Change has never been easy...for anyone. Until I am a
whole person again with a constant sense of self, remember I am trying, I
really am. I'm tired of being me--the me I am at this point in time.
I am beginning to fight my demons and I am tenatively standing on my own
twonfeet. I will walk this very scary, very new road (and perhaps sometimes ask
for help). I will do it though...for me. Hmmm...perhaps this is my
metaphorical "road less travelled".
Wish me luck.
Melanie
My Life... With BPD
I'm having a bad day, bad week, month, life...
Yea, This is probably going to end up being quite lenghty,
'cause i'd like to introduce myself to you guys. First and foremost, my
name is Jean-Francois and i'm french-canadian. I'm 29 and was diagnosed BPD
'bout 3 years ago.
My life is still a shamble, always was. I never felt "stable", my mind
works at 250 mph ALL the time. I live in a binary world, 1 or 0. black or
white. no middle grounds. Everything must come down to a logical
combination of 1 and 0, yes or no. Every and any event around me provoke a
cascade of choices, questions, hypothesis. 40 calculation per seconds for
even the most trivial of things. This is not something that happens to me
every once in a while, It is something that is, it's constant, even got
problems sleeping 'cause of it (and I grind my theet like a power-sander).
But then every once in a while (many times a day), my reasoning get
blocked, I need to get something my mind going on something else, or else
... Or else, I "lapse", I enter a spiral of self devaluation. I become
"blank" and yet I remain fully conscious, but i got absolutely no control
over it. I feel like i'm a "weirdo", i disconnect, I take refuge in that
box where i feel no pain... No pain, like the losing boxers who's been
raged on for 22 rounds, I feel no pain, yet, I know this is going to hurt
... hurt bad ... These "crisis" usualy last a few minutes, up to hours
sometimes on bigger events, very rarely more than that.
Btw, Question. In my recent readings i've noticed that one of the trait of
BPDs is to be generaly considered to be smart and witty, something I event
found in the Writtings of BPDs. So the question is, are we smart because
our mind works on overdrive or does our mind works like that 'cause we're
smart? I've passed Mensa's exam with flying colors, is this common for
BPDs? Even though I'm that smart, my whole life revolve around two things;
I know, I know, I know...
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know ...
I've been seeing psychologist, and psychiatrist since i was 14 or so,
always felt like I was wasting everybodies time and money, That the problem
was in my head, and there was nothing wrong with me (sic!). Tried to kill
myself a few times, at 16 by absorbing mercury. At 22 with pills, drugs,
and alchool. (the only time I ever had what you could call a psychosis or
hallucination of what hell looks and feel likes, had nightmares about it
for years) and at 26 with carbon-monoxide. I was interned 2 times for brief
periods (1 month) getting release with no support and feeling just as bad,
if not worst then when I came in. My last hospitalisation (following the
last suicide attempt) did a bit more than the other treatment i had
previously. Even though it took 4 months and a suicide attempt to get the
attention i needed. I was finaly diagnosed as BPD, but back then i did'nt
give a shit anymore, I had seen, heard and felt way too much BS, had been
invalidated, denigrated and called plain hypochodriac. I was followed
sporadically by a psychiatrist for about two years, took me a year and a
half just to get to trust her, but the she got transfered to another area,
so i could'nt see her anymore. So i'm here back to square one and in a
crisis. I've lost faith in the medical system. Don't think that they can
help me anymore.
Lately I've started looking 'round on the net, Trying to find what the heck
a BPD was, (3 years and still had no clue what it was). I was overwhelmed
with the amount of pertinent information I found. Started looking at the
symptoms and found a mirror. 7.5 out of 9 like a glove. At long last I
found that i'm not alone, someone else can see, feel, what i'm going thru.
There is someone that can understand. Great!, And yet now I feel more
powerless than ever, I also found out how I can be from an external point
of view, did'nt like what I saw. Felt like a jerk etc... the storm got on
it's way. Read 'bout how others are trying to cope with it, read 'bout the
statistic and prognosis for recovery. was'nt very encouraging. I never felt
"happyness" and now i feel like i'll never get to know it... Despair.
So I numb the pain, I smoke a joint and fool my mind into something else.
I've been a drug user for many years, smoking (smoking will refer to drug
use in the following) every day. Getting drunk once in a while for the big
blast. Smoking is one of the few way I can get some rest. I can get away
from those nasty though, or at least, get somekind of protection from them.
Make sleep come more easily. I got to be an habit, smoking first thing in
the morning during the weekends, and right when i can get away from work or
other responsabilities. I've grown kind of a dependence toward it, can't go
for more that a couple of days without it, otherwise my brain burns a whole
thru my skull I get kinda "catatonic". Alive, but no ones home.
Lately I've been feeling like a punching bag, working on "auto-pilot" to
avoid falling in despair. I've kicked out my girlfriend (20 months, by far
longest relationship i ever had) 'cause she kept on lying and cheating on
me, (proven, no paranoia here). Now she's is suing me for a kinds of lies
or stupidity (don't want to get into that right now). Gonna cost me a
bundle just to defend my self. Was arrested in the middle of the night,
taken into custody 'till the next morning. etc ... That's where i "snapped"
I've felt all my insecurities creep back, Trying to hold on to what little
I have of faith in mankind.
Jean-Francois
Everything I've ever read or heard about Borderlines is that we have to learn
how to control our behavior. I've tried that and succeeded for hours,
months, even years at a time...but they always come back. I believe
that's because the feelings never changed. Just like when you smile to
the outside world when you're really hurting inside. The belief is that
if you smile, pretty soon you'll feel better...I don't know about anyone
else, but that has never worked for me! It's just hiding the real
feelings and making everyone else feel better.
So my goal is to learn how to change my feelings. No one's been able to
tell me how to start this process, though. But I really believe that
until I change how I feel, I will always have BP behaviors and whether
they're evident or suppressed, they're still there and still making my
life hell.
Just my opinion, but I really think for me it's true. You can't stop
the bleeding if there's a painful, gaping wound.
kelly
There are holes-voids, cavities in my soul, my heart, my psyche. No
resolution. no reconciliation. Just a thousand and a thousand holes.
There's no way to remove them, or to fill them.
Rather I move on, desperately trying to survive and live and do more
than exist.
But this collection of holes grows more and more.
I keep them in boxes, on paper, in bags and in my mind.
But mostly I store them in my soul. Deep within.
Sometimes I forget about one until another comes along and adds to the
seemingly endless weave of emptiness and failure and instability.
I eventually manage to suppress and carry on. Not necessarily out of
healthy or theraputic measures, but more due to necessity.
And so it goes...
Khiki
Abandonment
