Though, I don’t normally write blog posts on here (ironic, because it is a blog…) I might be posting a few within the next little while. I want to share my stories, and I want to make you feel less alone. I advocate for mental health, yet I still struggle on the daily. As most advocates do. In my previous blog, I spoke about my struggle with the mental health care system, and my diagnosis with Borderline Personality Disorder. Here, I’m going to go a little more in depth about BPD, and my on going fight with it.
I cycle through emotions daily. My environment greatly affects how I’m feeling. Words, tone of voice, expressions, all of it contribute to my change of emotions. It’s hard and it’s frustrating as hell. Because I cannot control how I feel. I actually can’t. It’s like a tornado, I can see it coming, but I can’t stop it. And it obliterates anything in it’s path. Relationships. I have such a hard time maintaining relationships with people. I’ve lost a lot of friends, and I’ve isolated myself. And a part of me is okay with it, the other part is mad at them, but ultimately I’m mad at myself for being so black and white. There is a switch BPD sufferers have, and it changes from love to hate. Or hate to love. Or it stays on a continual loop of love/hate. So, obviously you can see how that affects my relationships. I also am incredibly sensitive and insecure. I’m a lot to handle. I understand that, which is why I often let relationships fade. I need a push back. If I don’t get that, I’m gone.
“The thing is, I hurt. I hurt deeply these days. And I have for a long time. But something is different lately. Something in me has changed. I’ve become darker. I’ve become more stuck in this feeling of despair. I’m desperate for an out. And I claw for it, or at it. I over medicate, and underestimate. I’ve allowed myself to become isolated, and I can’t stop pushing everyone away. Even him. I can’t allow myself to let him love me, because how could he love me? But I know he does. And it kills me. It kills me how much I love him. And how I can’t change this dark part of me. It kills me that I want to kill me, and that would mean hurting him. I can’t live without him, but I don’t want to live. This ongoing battle is hurting my soul. And it’s hurting everyone around me. So, I smile. I pretend I’m ok, and that everything is getting better.” This is something I wrote when I was feeling poorly. Looking at it when I’m not in that exact frame of mind really shows me the strength BPD has on me.
People with BPD are at high risk for feeling suicidal. The word suicidal has some shame in itself. I hate telling people I am suicidal. It is embarrassing. I don’t know why that is, you know, why do I think that? Is it because I’m being too open, and showing my weakness? I’m unsure. It’s the same with self harming. A lot of it does still have that stigma around it. I mean, people don’t understand that it isn’t attention seeking. Brie Larson’s character in the movie Short Term 12 says it perfectly, “It’s hard to focus on anything else when there is blood coming out of you.” It is the truth. It’s a distraction, a release. And it is a hard habit to kick. Mostly because it’s hard to address and difficult to talk about. I always see positive posts about not judging people because of their scars, but what about fresh wounds? Nobody should judge or be uncomfortable of them either.
I have my black and white side. My dark and light side. The thing is, when I’m dark, I am midnight. And there is no dawn in site. But when I’m light, I’m merely the beginning stages of the sunrise. I’m not completely there. And I might not be there for a long time. I’m okay with that. A part of me is terrified to “get better” because who am I without this? I think that’s the biggest struggle for people in recovery. That’s why relapses happen. But I think that is okay. I can go through periods on the right track, and then crash. But at least I tried, and am still trying. Even though I’ve been close to giving up lately. There’s always something that keeps me going. I’m not sure what it is, but I owe my life to it.