Greetings.
I found this forum by doing a little search and wading through all that the internet has to offer. This forum is alive, or so it seems and for that I am grateful as I could use a little support for at least someone that understands. No one that I am around on a daily basis understands what I go through. Well they try or pretend to think that they know.
Like most of you, I've been borderline most of my life, and at 28 years old that makes it almost three decades. It's funny how diagnoses happen, I was actually diagnosed with Bipolar II first and while dealing with that with my psychiatrist, I came to learn that I also had a personality disorder of the borderline variety. At first I was all like, "Oh yeah, just like Girl, Interrupted! Susanna Kaysen FTW!". Then as I learned more about it, it was like a huge slap in the face. That is why I am so quick to get pissed off. This is why everything is black and white, and my emotions are out of control and most importantly, this is why I am a manipulative little $#%^ sometimes. These were the things that I just did growing up, and now almost thirty, I still do them.
I have a wonderful boyfriend of almost a year and a half and lately things between us have been strained and of course it is the source of my despair and constant pain. You know what I'm talking about...s/he didn't call you like they usually do when they get off work and that means s/he doesn't love you anymore. ABANDONED AGAIN!! Or how about when s/he tells you that they need some more time to do the things that they used to do, you automatically think that its about you and that they want to break up and that they can't possibly love you anymore. If you're like me, you also go as far as to think that at some point s/he are going to hold something against you as a reason to break up with you.
Ahhh, the Borderline mind, my mind. The same mind that is convincing me that it would be eternally better not to exist, then to exist in this constant state of turmoil and pain. The pain is what is killing me. That deep in your chest, throbbing, biting pain that wont let the f*ck go. My first instinct is to self-medicate. I used to drink quite a bit and I'm sure that I could pick that up again real quick. So easy to have a glass or two or three of wine and fall into a blissful state of numbness. I haven't had a drink in over six months, I quit smoking and now am so straight that I don't even like me. I haven't even touched the xanax or anything else that I have that would put me under for a while. Glutton for punishment or trying to get out of the murkiness of my condition?
So I'm researching and I bought Rachel Reiland's memoir to read. Perhaps it will give me a sense of belonging and hope. I wont pick up the sharp objects and drag them across my skin. Instead I will try to do something that will get rid of that pain that feeling of sorrow and misery.
~ D.