Tarnished

I hear the wind

Rustling through the trees

A warm spring day

The windows open

I can feel a breeze on my skin

Cool and warm

Out my window

All green

The sun is shining

But inside me

Is a darkness

An aching pain

That doesn’t relent

What once was beautiful

Is now tarnished with the darkness

I’m falling over the edge

this time I don’t think I’ll be pulled back

This time, I think it’s going to stick

-B. 6-12-18

Bad patient.

Being borderline you hear a lot about being on the rollercoaster. It can be a very destructive force in ones life but that’s not the dangerous thing they should warn you about. What they should warn you about is how seductive it is. How good it feels to be on the rollercoaster, even the pitfalls.

I found this out when I was 24. When they put me on antipsychotics. I never realized I was on a rollercoaster until it was gone. And once it was gone I missed it but at the same time I could finally breathe. So, I was a good patient. I stayed on the meds. Missing the rollercoaster, less and less, as I forgot what it was like to be on and how to handle such harsh conditions.

I would think back on those days and think to myself, how did I ever get through that without antipsychotics. In a way, the meds were making me weak. They turned into a crutch.

When I was 28, I decided to try and get off my antipsychotics. First day, I was euphoric. Few days after that, tail between my legs, back on the antipsychotics. How could I completely forget how to handle these emotions that were once so ingrained in me. I did this a couple more times but always feared these emotions.

Now, present day. I just had a complete mental breakdown, and you know what? I didn’t do something stupid. You want to know something else? I haven’t been on my antipsychotics for a week or two.

I am conquering my emotions one step at a time and for the first time in years, I can feel again. I’m not dulled down.

I don’t know what the future has in store for me or if the rollercoaster is going to get crazy but if it does, bring it on. I got my DBT, I got my supports, I got my strength and I am ready. I want to face my emotions, not hide away from them. I want to feel not dull myself into a depression.

So, why is this called bad patient? I probably should have informed my Dr. kids don’t do what I did. Always tell your Dr. I’m just an Asshole.

-B. 6-5-18

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

Surprise! Here’s a shit mood!

This morning, well it’s still morning… BOOM, out of nowhere, even still, as I’m writing this, the darkness is trying to drown me. No thoughts provoked it, no situation, nothing. The darkness, just said, “ Hey, it’s time to destroy you, consume you.” And I’m left here, paralyzed… suffering, screaming on the inside.

I went to the first thing I ever learned, CBT. Which is cognitive behavioral therapy. In easy terms, it’s basically changing your thinking from negative to positive. So, I tried really hard to think of good things, I really did but I realized how fucking exhausting that was.

It dawned on me, while I was doing this, just how exhausting it really is to actively try to cope. That it must be wonderful to be a “normie”. How they have these coping mechanisms built within in them, that just get used without having to think of them, for situations that are not so mentally draining, as a thing many of you know as the darkness.

I finally understood why my mental illness was so draining. It wasn’t that being in it was draining. I’m not saying it’s not because part of it is. But it’s fighting it. The actively trying to combat these horrible feelings and not just that, the natural instinct we all have to survive that kicks in as well. It’s all just so G-D damn draining.

On a dark note, it did not work. I ended up putting on ‘hurt’ by Nine Inch Nails and seriously thinking about life. What did help was and is writing this. Telling you this. Maybe, knowing that someone out there, fucking gets it, ya know? Or that a “normie” will read this, and it will finally get through their thick skull and maybe they’ll say to themselves, “maybe they aren’t just lazy”. Maybe this will help end that G-D forsaken stigma!

If it does any of that, even just a little, I’ll know I’ve done something good in this world. That all of this isn’t for nothing. That I can tolerate it just a bit longer to see it do some good in the world, even while it’s doing this… just maybe.

-B.

1-14-18

Self-aware Borderline 

You know one of my biggest struggles since I’ve been diagnosed with Borderline personality disorder. You’d think it was a good thing, and in some ways or at least from a therapeutic standpoint it is and should be a good thing but I tell you it is the worst thing ever. 
The thing I’m talking about, is becoming a self-aware borderline. 
The first step in therapy, is to be diagnosed but then it’s to become aware of your “patterns” and behaviors. But not only that in DBT, they teach mindfulness. Which makes you aware of everything, externally and internally. 
The reason why being self-aware as a borderline, is probably the worst thing, is because it makes what we do and how we feel, which is already tenfold, even fucking worse. Like, we have just had all our nerve endings plucked like a guitar, set on fire with kerosine.

In a way, it’s a lot like this other thing that you learn about in DBT, called “wise mind”. Which is the ultimate goal. You want to take your emotional mind and with a rational mind and combine them to create a “wise mind”. 
This is sort of where the problem lies in being self-aware. I can see everything I do, say, or feel from a rational perspective. Understand why it is that way but no matter how much I understand it, I cannot help how I feel or react. My borderline doesn’t care about the rationales. Even if it’s something so insignificant. Like the time my ex boyfriend moved a pillow and I flew into a rage. I knew there was no reason to get that angry, but I did. All he did was move a pillow. It didn’t cause me any harm, I didn’t ask him not to. So, why did I do that? 
You see, noticing things like that. Being aware of things like that, on a daily basis, is horrible. It makes you feel horrible. They tell you in therapy that it helps. It doesn’t. It makes it worse. It ruins your self esteem. It shows you just how fucked you really are. 

It’s like you can see what is going on, you know what to do but you aren’t in control. 
I miss being blissfully unaware. Things seemed so much simpler. All I do now is either apologize, explain myself, self loath, or isolate so I don’t hurt others. This is what knowing does. 
It has helped break some patterns, but at what cost? 
-B. 

11-28-17

Time

They say time doesn’t exist Maybe in a sense

In the physical concept 

The physical sense 

There is no such thing as time 
But we are all running out of time 

If you really think about it 

Some sooner than others 
I think that’s why we have a concept of time

Because it brings us security, in some way 

But it also brings us fear 
I hate time 

I love the unknown 
Time is…

Pressure

Fear 

Anxiety 
It takes the fun out of life 

Putting time, onto moments 

Never really living 
Time is the past and the future 

It’s not the present 

The present is where moments happen 

Where the unknown springs up and surprises you 

It’s where life happens 
When you are too busy with time 

You miss these 

So, are you really living? 

Have you really lived? 
What will you think, when your time is up?

Will you wish for the present? 

Because time is just a concept

It’s not really there 
So live for now 

Enjoy those moments 

Don’t restrain yourself to time 

Live… 
-B. 

9-17-17

Coping 

They told me I’ve been coping wrong All these years, they have been telling me

Showing me how I should be coping 

“Healthy” coping 

“Normal” coping 

Telling me it would help me 

I would feel better 

Get better 

Everything will fall into place 
My coping

They told me it wasn’t “healthy” 

It wasn’t “normal” 

It was just a “quick fix” 

“It will only make you feel worse”

But it was my coping for a reason 
After years of pushing against them 

I tried their methods 

I’m still trying 

I keep trying because it doesn’t work 

I still feel like shit 

It hasn’t brought me peace 

Happiness 

Sense of worth 

None of those promises 

It’s all bullshit 

All of it 
My methods 

Although unconventional, work 

How do I know? 

Because they are my coping skills for a reason 

I learned to cope that way 

For a reason 
Now 

Now, I’m struggling 

Where are all of these things you promised? 

Because I’m barely coping… 
-B. 

8-26-17