What you need to remember: Being Borderline

A text I wrote to my boyfriend when he told me to wear my pain like armor:

I think you sometimes forget you’re with someone who feels things on a scale you’ll never be able to understand. That it’s exactly like I’m a burn victim but with emotional nerve endings being plucked at random and nothing I can do to stop it. Try to wear that immense emotion. When everything you feel is magnified by 100,000. And you have to hold it together all the time because people never feel that much but you do. So they don’t understand why you could hurt so bad about something. Image the worst emotional pain you’ve ever felt and imagine that magnified like trying to kill ants but everyday. And add in other emotions like that. How are you supposed to wear something that hurts so much you can barely hold it up or breathe. There is a reason why my dx is the number one mental illness for not making it. Because image the weight of all those emotions and trying to wear them… it’s like burying yourself in boulders and gasping for air.

Doomed

Should I of stayed?

Would we have been okay then?

Look at us now

You don’t even see it

You didn’t see it

Two hellbent souls

Trying to love

But too broken to be

Now we’re here

Trying so hard to hold on

But I see what’s happening

The growing distance

This won’t last

This won’t work

This is doomed

It’s always been doomed

A Shakespearean tragedy…

-B. 6-9-18

Psychiatric meds: a frustrated rant

Nowadays, it seems like, they don’t want to see you get better. They want to create consumers. That is, Big Pharma, the Dr’s, hospitals, intensive outpatient treatments, any place that would have you on medication management for psychiatric disorders.

I am speaking from my own experience of course. I mean, I will be the first to tell you that psych medication is a great thing. I find it endlessly fascinating. And in the right circumstance, I think it can be a very useful tool. But far too often, we are overprescribing these medications and not dealing with the problems at hand.

Take for instance, inpatient treatment. It’s more about, medicating and pushing you out the door, than really getting to the root of the problem through therapeutic means. I know, I know, inpatient is supposed to be for rapid stabilization but still, they don’t even help you with facing life once you’re back on the outside. So, what’s even the point of stabilizing you in the first place? (I know, I’m a bit dramatic)

What I’m trying to say is, at least in my case, and what I’ve seen with so many others, first hand, is that they would rather put you on medication. Medication that has a block box warning, rather than try to teach you to handle your emotions and the things in life that seem too hard. They would rather sweep it under the rug, than really put any effort into seeing what is wrong because a quick fix is a quick fix. I know that sometimes and at first it might be needed but then it becomes such a crutch, you just rely on the medication to help you.

As, I’m writing this, I am realizing I’m going to get some backlash. I just want to say, there is nothing wrong with taking medication. Hell, I take a cocktail of meds. More than most patients do, trust me I know, I’ve gotten flack for it.

I’m just frustrated because now that I’ve been on these meds for so long, I don’t know how to handle my emotions off them. I tried and it was a disaster. I don’t want to be dependent on medication my whole life, I want to learn to not be afraid of who I am, I want to learn to handle my emotions and my ups and downs.

So, that’s the end of my rant. I hope I didn’t offend anyone.

-B. 6-16-18

Walking contradiction

You hear a lot about black and white in BPD but you don’t hear a lot about the contradictory nature of someone with BPD.

Now, don’t go getting mad. I’m only speaking from experience. I fully admit to being a walking contradiction.

It often frustrates people. Makes people think I’m a liar. That I’m hard to trust. But I’m here to explain it to you the best way I can because unless you understand it, you’re going to think those things and they are simply not true.

Let me set the record straight first. I am an open book. I tell it like it is. What comes out of my mouth is what I meant to say in that exact moment.

Now, let me explain. I say things I mean IN THE MOMENT. They are tied to HOW I FEEL, my emotions. Having borderline personality disorder, this means, it changes constantly. So, my views on things are constantly changing. I can mean one thing and the next day contradict it because I feel differently about it that day.

IT DOES NOT mean I lied. It means that I feel DIFFERENTLY about the situation. That my mind CHANGED. Things change and that’s normal. Maybe not at the slow pace they normally do, but that’s how they work for me.

This may be frustrating for you normies but imagine being me. I am constantly contracting a lot of the things I believe. Like, parts of my identity. Now, don’t get me started on identity, we can hit on that another time.

So, next time, try to be understanding. We are just going with our emotions. Constantly changing.

-B. 6-10-18

One magic pill

One magic pill.

We’ve all wished it was real. Something we could take to cure us. Make us normal. Take away all the bad things and make us whole again.

Psychiatry, the idea of getting on medication, is often a tough choice for some of us and an easy one for other. Whatever it is for, the journey is not the same. Some have luck and others don’t.

I like to think of it as one big guessing game.

As in other fields of medicine, you have a disease process and a course of treatment. In most cases it’s that simple. But with mental illness, it’s not. It’s far less simple than that.

You have all these psychiatric medications and you get to see your psychiatrist once a month. So, once a month you try a medication. Then the fun part. Some of these medications take weeks to work, so the wait. Then the side effects. On the other hand, they can completely not work all together or even worse do the complete opposite and make your symptoms ten times worse. So, next month, back to the drawing board.

Suppose it does work, but then it doesn’t take all the symptoms away. Then you have to start the cycle over again. You have to add another medication.

Then, finally you find the right combination that works. Everything is going fine for a few years and then BAM. You need to adjust the dosage or the medications have stopped working all together. Back to the drawing board. Back to the cycle.

Like, picking out of a hat.

These medications are so abstract and have so many applications in how they treat various symptoms. The lists go on.

And one day you wake up and you realize, you aren’t just a person seeking treatment for your mental illness but you’ve become a slave to these medications, a product of the pharmaceutical companies.

I’m not saying that taking medication for mental illness is bad. Absolutely not. I have no right to. I am on numerous medications just to be a functioning member of society. But, do I wish I could remember what it was like to handle it on my own or learn to handle it on my own. Yes, I do. Do I hate carrying around 6 pill bottles with me, when I go out? Yes. But, I’ve learned to have no shame in taking out my meds when needed because who the fuck cares what they think. I need them. I need to take care of myself.

But, oh, how I do wish, that there was one magic pill…

-B.

3-21-18

The truth about music.

Music…

A saving grace, for the hopeless, the lost, the hurt, the fallen, the broken… a gleam of hope in the darkness.

So, I thought, all these years.

Then tonight, while listening to ‘We fight’ by Dashboard Confessional, it hit me. Like a lightbulb went off, kinda like those cartoons.

That feeling you get, that feeling when you hear a song, the best way I can put it is with a quote I once heard… “the good thing about music, is once it hits you, you feel no pain…”

that feeling, when it hits you, when you feel that glimmer of hope again. When the pain goes away, the terrible realities of the world slip away and all you’re left with is blissful melodies of a brighter future… that feeling that music gives you…

I realized, tonight, that it’s a mirage. It’s a fantasy world dancing on the tongues of the lead singer into your head from your headphones, speakers, wherever you are hearing these magical melodies.

Like sirens, they are there to lull us, twist us, create beautiful worlds in our pretty little minds. If just for a few minutes, to take the pain away.

The sense of security, hope, anything that these words, lines, make you feel are an aberration of what is really there.

In no way am I saying this is wrong. In fact I think it’s amazing. How music, just the words of just some stranger, someone who you know nothing about, can sing exactly what is in your heart or exactly what you needed to hear.

How so interconnected we are as beings but how truly alone we can feel.

How music, transcends all languages to not only touch the mind and heart but our aching souls. To create an inner dialogue and purpose in all those that needed one.

How beautifully and gracefully we can communicate across the world. How one song, one lyric can pierce the coldest hearts and warm them, bringing them to their knees. Creating thousands of broken souls into one cheering hopeful moment in time.

Sometimes I get passionate…

-B.

2-12-18

This took a turn

Don’t you hate that? How the night before, you feel motivated, have a plan for the next day, even feel a little motivated the second you wake up. But then, it starts slowly. Something feels a little off. You make up excuses for it. It hits you, you feel a little off.

That realization, that moment. The moment you realize it’s you, you’re the one who feels off. That’s when it happens. You start slowly spiraling. Not too bad at first, though. Not very noticeable because you’ve put it in the back of your mind. Well, at least you think you did. But it’s growing. It gets bigger and bigger. You start actively thinking about your anxieties, fears, mistakes, things that make you wrong as a person. Things you’ve decided are true, that must be true because why else would you feel this way. Why else would it be so damn hard, so damn exhausting to get yourself to make at least one phone call, check off one thing on your list.

You make up these things, these facts about yourself, convinced they are true but in fact are the complete opposite. Yes, maybe it’s exhausting to fight yourself to even get one thing done on the list but you did it. You, on your bad day, got something done. Even if you didn’t manage to get something on your list done, you managed and you know fucking what? That in itself is strength.

People don’t see mental illness, not all the time. They don’t see what we are fighting. How fucking exhausting it is. How the simplest thing makes you tired and ashamed because you can’t do it like the “normies” can but fuck them. You are, I am, so much stronger for it. We have to fight everyday. It’s not easy. Life’s not easy, but we do it.

So, this started as a rant but turned into a pep talk. I think mostly I needed to hear it. I needed to know it was okay. But if anyone else needed to know, know it’s okay to survive, it’s okay to just breathe. It’s okay. You’ll be okay.

-B.

1-30-18