My Bpd StoryI'm not very articulate and have zero confidence in my writing ability but I will try to tell you my story none the less. I need to get this down somewhere. I hope I don't bore folks too much! I'll try to be concise..
I was diagnosed with bpd about 3 years ago and since then my life has become unrecognizable to what it once was.
4 years ago I had reached a real high point in my life- I had gotten completely on top of the mental health problems that I had struggled with all my life. My 2 boys were happy and doing well in school. We were living in a lovely flat in a nice part of town with an a fantastic view. I had a great job which I loved, great colleagues and a great boss. I had good things in my life ,family, friends, a social life, hobbies. I was a single parent but I loved it. Life was sweet.
Then I started a new relationship, relationships were always a problem before because they seemed to bring out all my symptoms and never worked out. But I was sure it was going to be alright this time as I was doing so well and felt I had matured enought to handle it.
Sadly it became a difficult relationship, fraught with insecurity and soon I started becoming unwell. Things just went from bad to worse and soon I had developed an unhealthy obsession with this person and got even more unwell. I am so ashamed of what went on that I barely dare to write it as I may be judged, and to be honest I'd have to take the criticism on the chin.
I became seriously unwell and stopped caring for myself at all, went off work on permanent sick leave. I began to self medicate with drugs and alchohol and developed serious addiction issues as a result. The relationship ended which in time I began to see as a blessing but not then. I spent all my money and ended up being evicted from our lovely flat. We spent Christmas camping out at a friends house and although my brother was there to put us up we were technically homeless for 6 weeks until getting another place, not so nice at all and much smaller with an extortionate rent but we needed somewhere and felt I had no choice.
This is the bit bit that still fills me with intense guilt and shame. As my illness progressed my boys gradualy retreated in to their own worlds and began to fend more or less for themselves. We barely spoke or barely spent any time together. I was completely unable to care totally for them. I would wake up every day and not want to live, I self harmed. They were 15 and 12 at the time. I eventualy had a breakdown in 2007 and spent 11 weeks in an acute psychiatric ward and the boys father started talking to me about me giving them up and letting them go and live with him. I was so lost I almost did but thank God I didn't.
I had to give up my job as I was taking so much time off sick and didn't know when I was going to be well again and felt it was unfair to my colleagues and my boss.
Three years on I am proud to say I've been sober and clean for almost a year and have not self harmed for the same time. My boys and I are still together, they are 18 and 15 now. My older boy is off to uni this year and my youngest has almost completed his standard grades. They are both sweet, caring, funny, friendly amazing kids and I'm so proud of them and the way they coped and came out the other side of the hard times they went through. They saw alot in the months that I was acute. I thank God for them every day
Although my relationship with them is a 100 % better and they're doing fine I have as yet been unable to forgive myself for what happened when I was ill. Even though I can accept I was ill I still feel deep deep guilt and shame on a daily basis. All day every day I torture myself and loathe myself for who I was back then. It has been building up over the past few months and now I find myself in a position where I cant stop hating myself.
No amount of therapy is going to convince me that I'm not an inherently bad person who deserves to suffer. I know as I've been in therapy for almost 3 years. I feel that I should just accept that this is my lot in life and I should just get on with it.
I don't have my old coping strategies to fall back on so I just feel chronically empty most of the time when I'm not putting myself down. Nothing going in nothing coming out. Nothing to say or give. I hope this makes sense and that I'm not just having a great big moan, maybe I am.
Sadly I have no friends to confide in any more as most friendships melted away when I was ill and in active addiction. The 2 people I do still have know nothing of what's going on as I choose not to tell them. Don't want to burden and bore them and just can't seem to get close or connect to people at all.
I feel I have nothing in common with anyone else and that that is my fault. I'm getting confused now and rambling on a bit.
I guess what I just want to say is that I'm coping with this illness on a daily basis and not doing very well right now. I often feel I have the mentality of a teenager trapped in a 42 year old womans body!
My life revolves around my boys, home, my part time voluntary jobs and not much else. I live on disability benefits which makes me feel like a loser. I'm sorry if this has been a boring read or if I sound self pitying, I don't mean to. I just hope to find people who identify with me. I wish I had something more positive to say.