Living with Borderline Personality Disorder

Well, this will be by far my most honest and vulnerable post to date. Perhaps there were connections made by previous entries, or the signs were written between the lines, but now I am here to share the deepest truths of this disorder.

For those who are not familar with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), it is a form of mental illness/brain disorder, with destructive symptoms. Looking back, I can pinpoint its origin within myself at the age of 17. Of course, I was showing the symptoms of depression and so I thereby labelled it as that. What I should have taken into account however, was that although at 17 there were vast durations of emotion lows, there were also a shit tonne of eratic emotional highs (which can be just as destructive). 

2014 may have been the Year of the Horse, but for me, it was the year of the Hippo; for they are the most unpredictable animal and I felt constantly weary of a potential attack. 

Perhaps 2014 was just one big ass episode. Not only was I experiencing extreme lows but I was also developing a dependence on substances. I was acting out; irrationally and dangerously; self-destructively. 

This subsided after some time, thankfully. Apart from an irrational outburst here and there, no major episodes seemed to occcur until 2017. Then 2018 and 2019 takes the cake for being the shittiest of the years, when the bin was piling up with empty wine bottles and I became more and more withdrawn. My behaviour was getting out of control. I was not only binge drinking everyday, but spending money ridiculously. I was making plans on week nights that would jeopardise my functioning abilities for work the following day. I was picking fights with friends. I was pushing anyone and everyone away. 

2019 was by far the worst. One episode lasted a consecutive 5 weeks. I lost more people in my life during that time than my entire life put together. I was experiencing full blown panic attacks that took my vision and mobility from the left side of my body. I was making terrible decisions in order to get a distraction from the shit hole I thought my life to be. I was hopeless.  

A stay in the hospital post-suicide attempt was the best thing that ever happened to me. 

The stay in the mental ward was accompanied with a consultation with a pyschiatrist. I told him about everything; my childhood, my behaviour, my anger at myself, my anger at others. It was very apparent to him that this was not a case of depression but was in fact, BPD. 

I had never heard of it. The first thing that came to mind was split-personality disorder. But I did my research and never related to a diagnosis so much in my life. 

Getting a diagnosis was a relief. It's not me, it's the disorder. And like all illnesses, once it is diagnosed you can start the appropriate recovery. For BPD, it is simply being aware and doing better which is a lot fricking harder than you think. But regardless, since that nearly fatal day at the hospital approximately 6 months ago, its been easier. 

I decided to share this now because I just experienced my first episode since last October. I was sensitive to everything. Every little comment or response began to churn in my head, like a tree going through a shredder; it spat out tinder and my brain would set it alight. 

Everyone's reactions during their episodes can be different. Mine for instance is to completely withdraw. I want to hide in a corner with a bottle of wine and cut everyone out of my life. 

I feel detached from myself however not numb. Detached, because I am experiencing all these intense emotions at once, yet I have no reasoning for them. It's like I lose control.

It's like my emotions are adamant that there is a storm coming and the ONLY way I will cope, is if I start the rain. 

It's like this strong belief that eeryone is going to leave me, but I will be okay if I leave them first. 

It doesn't make sense and yet it can be quite persuasive. 

After several days of being rather cold, walking around in a daze and fighting the urge to cry, I realised after some serious consideration of ending things with my boyfriend, that this was not normal. Then like a light bulb going off, I remembered about the diagnosis and the episodes that hadn't occured in so long that I almost forgot. 

It made things mildly easier knowing this fact. I was able to tell myself, "These are emotions are deceptive and destructive. They are not looking out for you. They are not real. This will pass." 

Of course, through the tears I still couldn't hold back and the deep sense of hopelessness, it can be hard to believe, but I replayed that mantra again and again and what do you know? It passed. 

I worry for the inevitable episodes to come, of course. I fear that I will get swept up in the intensity and make decisions I can't reverse. But I have people who care about me, who are well aware of this, who can remind me that this is not me. And I think that's the best thing someone with BPD can do. Communicate. Also, acknowledge the feelings. By acknowledging them, you take away their power to hurt you. It will also assist you in becoming aware of what is happening so that you can act accordingly. 

If you are experiencing any of these symptoms, please see a doctor. It reached a very low, very bad point for me before I received the appropriate help. I was lucky in that situation that my attempt was not a success. But not everyone is so lucky.

Feel free to reach out or ask me anything. 

Sending you all the love in the world.

Remember, there is always help.