My struggles of living with a borderline personality disorder — the suffering, the hopelessness, and the light.
“You’re too much.”
“You go zero to 60 in .2 seconds.”
“Stop being sensitive!”
“You must like chaos.”
I consistently replay these quotes in my head. The people who spoke them have come in and out of my life.
I feel emotions far more than the average person. Although on the surface that may not sound entirely life-altering, it’s crippling.
I suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder.
I live every day on the surface. Every emotion is ready to be set off—no matter what. When I’m happy, I’m euphoric. When I’m angry, I’m a monster. When I’m sad, I’m depressed. I have no in between. I’m either green or red. I have no yellow.
Putting my disorder into words is impossible. My mind is a maze, and it makes me sick to even think of it.
All I want is to be close to people. I want a relationship where I can share, love, be safe, but I become “too intense” and “too much” for anybody to handle. So, ultimately, I’m left with nobody. It’s a terrible cycle.
I suffer every day. I suffer with feeling overwhelmed all the time.
I find it difficult to communicate. What I feel in my heart and my head doesn’t translate. I can love you with my mind, body and soul while my words are the exact opposite.
I’m not trying to start drama and I’m not an attention seeker. When I “overact” it is not easy for me to recover.
I hurt. I hurt others. I’m depleted at the end of the day.
I am constantly afraid of the idea of being alone; abandonment is hell. I latch onto people and let go before they are able to let go of me.
Many believe that I am mean, narcissistic, a manipulator.
My moods change consistently and I have zero control over my emotions. I feel everything 24/7.
I was told there are two Monicas. The “Monica I love” and “the disorder.” The “real Monica” is nurturing, empathetic, passionate, enthusiastic, loving and happy.
Once that Monica is gone, you’re left with “the disorder,” which causes manipulative behavior, lying, distorting reality and pessimism.
How is it possible to have these contradicting traits locked into one human?
I’m going to open up my heart. I’m going to become vulnerable. I am going to be raw. There have been nights I didn’t want to be alive. There have been spirits of what I’d like to call “insanity.” I’ve had moments where I ran into the street while the one I love chased me—and I was hoping and praying a car would take me out of my misery.
Out of the pure pain of thinking the one I love would leave, I’d bang my head against a wall as hard as I could, hoping I’d be knocked out.
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