My Bpd Story And A Metaphor Of Sorts

I was officially diagnosed in 2001 and along with that, I started receiving gov't benefits which I feel a little ashamed about when I tell others but I could never keep a job because I'd always meltdown under stress. Anyway, before then no one understood me, especially my family. My sister who had asthma and severe bronchitis attacks dismissed me as faking it and my mom often had to call the police bc the fights between my other sister and I got so severe that she couldn't break them up. I was often escorted away to a crisis unit to stay for awhile while my sister stayed behind bc she was underaged and (often) pregnant.

And if not those hellish places, I was shipped off to my father who felt massively inconvenienced by my presence. I recall swallowing pills and vitamins brought on by an extreme emotional reaction from a friend I was in love with at the time, and my father's reaction wasn't to panic or call the EMT but to sit on his porch and light up a joint in indifference.

Then friends came and went, sometimes they stayed despite the hell of binging, cutting, suicide threats and attempts, mood swings, verbal self-abuse and occasional alcohol/Rx drug abuse I put them through . Same for lovers and boyfriends and sometimes they left and often stuck me with harsh remarks like "enjoy being miserable" or "you need to stop being so angry all the time" but what probably hurt more was some times they disappeared with no reason at all and never came back. I knew it was me. I never reacted to antidepressants as long as they had me taking them which all started when I was 16 and when my BPD started showing. I'd be on one for months and I was literally sick or it made me so tired I couldn't do anything else. Sometimes I had more luck just talking to a therapist. I remember one who was an older woman who was brutally honest and very helpful but she moved away; I tried with another but too much fluff. As of now I'm back on binging and watching my money go with it to every take out place in town thanks to the drama of my family. I don't celebrate Xmas but I cant help but let it activate the depression that comes with my BPD.

However, there's always a bit of hope trying to push itself through, like a flower bud through frozen ground. I have that hope. Sometimes I often think of my self like a fruit, maybe an apple or pear. There's times where they tend to get bruised or a worm gets in there. Normal folk balk and toss it away bc they think there's no use, I personally get a knife and cut all the bad parts off and eat it anyway(bc i hate wasting food and I'm cheap lol). Also may explain why I have a soft spot for old furniture sitting on the curb- it may be broken and busted but it could be of use to some one with the right knowledge and help. I too am busted, broken, bruised, rotted inside but I'm of use to some one, in some way, some where...if only they had the knowledge to understand.
Lov3intheasylum Lov3intheasylum
31-35, F
2 Responses Dec 4, 2012

I really liked your post. I've learned that at the root of personality disorders is a person who feels that something is wrong with his core. Naturally his self esteem is really low because of this. He feel this way because of how he was treated growing up. It's sad because children always blame themselves and never recognize that it's not them with the problem, rather it is their caretaker. When kids get treated badly they think it eats away their self esteem. It makes sense because they don't have anyone around giving them positive messages and all they hear day-in and day-out is negative messages about who they are.

I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry it happened to me. I am trying to learn all that I can about personality disorders because having the knowledge and awareness seems to help. For so long, I really did think that I was crazy at my core, now I know that I am not. It is just that I was made to feel that way.

Just by your story it appears you are intelligent and are understanding what borderline is. The first step is always realizing the problem, then figuring out how to fix it. I seem to be medication resistant too and build up tollerances extremely fast. Nueontin is just for that, ask about it! Therapists are like shoes, youve got to find that comfortable, right fit that works for you. Maybe your old therapist can reccommend someone, but keep trying!

Ive had bpd forever and due to a horribly failed suicide attempt im disabled, cant work, and cant drive. Ive been sitting in my house for a year. In October my brother in law raped me, in November my fiance left because of the bpd, and my future is looking bleak.

A couple days ago I found out "the one that ran away" married his ex he was talking to the entire time we were together, and she recently died of cystic fibrosis. I felt like I got hit in the face and stomach with a brick. Ever since my depression is out of control, I am so mean and irritable and its an emotional roadblock I cant get past.

Everything will be okay, and youll keep learning and coping :) hang in there!!

I'll ask around about this drug although I'd rather opt for electrotherapy honestly. I will say that I got some much needed perspective from your answer, thank you. Most of all, you hang in there too.

Thank you!