I’m going to attempt to describe what it’s like to have borderline personality disorder, for me that is. It’s often been said that BPD is one of the most complicated mental illnesses and no case is ever the same. Borderlines get a bad rap. If you google the words “Borderline Personality Disorder” you will find countless articles that urge you to run from anyone, namely a woman, who has this disorder. The articles tell you how manipulative we are, how you should never be in a relationship with us, how we are all just bitches. Yes, this is a clinical disorder and people are labeling as just being bitches. I have been called a bitch, I have been called a drama queen, I have been called overly sensitive. I have been told I’m faking it and that I choose to feel this way for attention.
This could not be further from the truth. Why would anyone choose to live with emotions so intense you can practically see the lashes form from every minor criticism whipped at you? It’s been said before that having borderline personality disorder is like being a burn victim. That our emotions is so raw and damaged that a small prod will send us into a world of pain and turmoil. I ask you again, why would anyone choose to be this way?
Any little thing could send me over the edge. I don’t have control over my emotions, I actually can’t remember a time I ever did. As a child and a teenager I was moody and unpredictable. I constantly pushed people away just to burst into hysterics asking why they wanted to leave me? I don’t purposely want to hurt anyone, despite the thought that people with BPD are manipulative and dare I say it…evil! Manipulation requires a cold calculating mind that realizes that their actions will harm and drive someone else to do what they wish. When I “manipulate” I am not thinking. I am not thinking about the outcome of what I’m doing, I’m not plotting out how to get my way. I am desperate and I am scared. I’m throwing everything I have and I’m not thinking beyond this next second of torment.
I often feel like there is a deep gaping hole in my chest. I don’t mean figuratively either, I can physically feel it burrowing it’s way deeper and deeper into me. Sometimes I feel like the depression could swallow me entirely, like I’ll just fall into that pit at any moment. Inside the pit there is only hatred. “You’re not good enough”. “No one will ever love you”. “Why do you ever bother to be alive?”. These words penetrate my thoughts every day, they squirm there way into my head and gnaw at my self esteem. They break me down until I’m begging just to feel nothing at all. Anything is better than this eternal self loathing.
I do get to escape sometimes though. See, I’m not always all together there. If you spend enough time with me you’ll notice this. I leave my body a lot, put it on autopilot. I stare at nothing and let myself fall deep back into my head. I don’t feel my body anymore and I don’t feel like I really exist inside of it. This is what is known as dissociation, derealization and depersonalization.
Having borderline personality disorder is like having two perfectly different people making you up. This is often known in the psychological field as “splitting” or “black and white thinking”. Inside me there are three parts. There’s the needy and abandoned child. This child needs constant attention and will do dangerous things in order to attain it. This part of me needs love, it will cling on to you and beg you to give it more and more. Then there’s the part of me that frankly…couldn’t give a fuck. This is the tough side of me, the side that’s angry at so many things for very little reasons. This side of me will become defensive very fast and won’t think of the consequences. This side of me has been violent. These feelings often come with an overwhelming amount of anxiety and hypervigilance. I am aware of any little thing that will allow me express this rage inside me. The third part of me is what most people refer to as normal, but I refer to as numb. There is no emotion in either direction, there is nothingness. People with BPD suffer from something called “chronic boredom”, this is my normal. It is blank, it is nothing.
This is my life with borderline personality disorder, it is not every ones. I started this blog in order to help others who suffer from mental illness, or love someone who does. We are not monsters, we are not “crazy”, please don’t stigmatize us because we have a label.
I have borderline personality disorder, but I am not my diagnosis. I am a loving, sweet and kind person. I want to help others, I want to explore the world and make people happy.