It’s hard to explain exactly how it feels to have borderline personality disorder (BPD). For me, it’s almost like you live your life as a different person every single day, and after awhile, you no longer know which one of those people is the “real” you.
Some days, you can wake early and you’ve never felt more ready to face the day ahead. Everything is achievable and nothing impossible. You can plan your entire future out in the space of an hour. In your own little world, the sun is shining brightly and nothing can hurt you.
You are invincible.
Other days, you will not be truly “awake” until the late afternoon. Your head feels heavy and your sight is dim. All motivation is gone, and the anxiety inside you builds and builds, until eventually, it overflows in the form of tears and panic attacks. Nothing can be said or done to console you. You are trapped, a prisoner of your own mind.
You are invisible.
Then, there is the issue of attachment. And it is an issue, at times. Relationships can be difficult to form, but sometimes, as someone with BPD, you wish you had never formed them in the first place. Once you feel a connection with a person, it’s like a seed has been planted in your heart.
The more the person waters you with attention, the bigger and faster the plant grows. Eventually, it’s too big for the tiny pot that is your body. You start to suffocate, but you can’t pull away. You can’t uproot. You are trapped once more. Tiring of your need for love and attention, the other person will start to chop away at your leaves and branches. They may be your whole garden, but to them, you are nothing more than a weed.
As the distance grows between you, your love for them turns to resentment. They may try to get close to you, noticing your need, but you will ensure there is no way they can get near you again, as they will only cut you down. At least, that’s what the little monster in your mind thinks.
“Money is no object.” That’s what you think when you go on an impulsive spending spree. Only to find the following day there’s no money left to pay your bills. Yet, once in awhile, we are compelled to do it. We know what the outcome will be, but in that moment, we live. It provides a temporary feeling of happiness, but once this passes, the novelty of the new things wear off and you are back at rock bottom.
Rock bottom, for a lot of us, can mean locking yourself away, not eating and not sleeping. Abusing your body becomes a normal thing for a while. You are miserable in your own skin and you hope something beautiful lies underneath. All you find though, is ribbons of angry red and pain. You feel good for a second, and then worse for a month. The cycle begins again.
This is a typical month in my life. Sometimes all of this can happen in a week. Sometimes even a day. If I could describe my illness in one word, it would be unpredictable. Every day is a surprise, even for me.
Manipulative, scheming, blackmailing: These are some of the words which have been used to describe me, along with many others in the past. Perhaps, after reading this, people will think again before opening their mouths or taking to their keyboards.