A Night With Borderline Personality Disorder
This is my story of what some of my nights are like with borderline personality disorder (BPD). I wanted to write this to show the number of thoughts that go through my head because of my condition. I wanted to show their randomness, speed and how difficult they are to control. Secondly, I wanted to write about my amazing partner, who has given me unconditional love, kindness and patience and who always wakes up with a smile, even at 1:56 a.m.
11:23 p.m.– I, sleepily, wake up on the couch.
11:24 p.m.– I am wide awake and can’t go back to sleep. Why can’t I ever just sleep? Just one night. Remember the relaxation techniques. Quickly, go to bed. No light. No phones. That’s what it says to do. Why is it like this? He really needs to get this snoring sorted out. Ten deep breathes. That will help. 1, 2… it’s not working. Get up quickly, before it starts.
11:25 p.m.– I drink a glass of water. I walk around the house, pee and get back to bed.
11:26 p.m.– Please sleep. Please sleep. Please sleep.
1:52 a.m.– I am wide awake, again. I look at the time. Three more hours and I can get up without it being weird. Tomorrow will be different. It has to be different. If I do all the right things, then I will sleep. Tomorrow is a new day. If I start exercising tomorrow, then I can be skinny by summer.
It’s hot in here. Is the heater off? Don’t eat tomorrow and exercise. There’s nothing to do tomorrow. Tomorrow I am by myself all day. Why don’t I have any friends? Why doesn’t anyone want to help me? After everything I have done for people, and now I am the one who has to feel like this and live like this?
What is the point of even living? I have no purpose on this earth. How many pills are in the kitchen? Not enough. I just need help. Why won’t someone help me?
I need to pay childcare and internet bills. I have no money. I need to go back to work. I’m too sick to go back to work. I’m too “crazy” to work, too tired to work, but I need money. I have no time to get better. There’s never any time to get better.
I just want this to stop. Why can’t it just stop? Just for one second, ever. What kind of a life is this when your worst enemy is your mind? I hate this so much. Just go to sleep. Just go to sleep. It’s not working. It never works. Someone help me. Make this stop. I just want to be happy. Why am I being punished like this? What did I do?
1:53 a.m.– It’s getting bad. Between the thoughts blaring at me, my mind is frantically grasping at the techniques I have learned to stop this from getting worse. Ten deep breathes. Mindfulness. DBT. F*ck. I am done. I can’t do this all the time. I can’t even just think. I have to stop this.
1:54 a.m.– Can I wake him up? He has work today. Try and calm down. Just get up again. I just did that. I am so tired, all the time. What is the point of this? I can’t do this forever.
I need help. Maybe I should go back to the hospital? I don’t want to go back to the hospital. I can’t go back to the hospital. They will take my kids away. I need to calm down. No one can take my kids away. I am a good mum. I am a good mum. No, I’m not. My kids are better off without me. I miss them. I want them here. I just want a normal life. I just want my kids.
This is too hard. No one should have to live like this. This is an awful illness. No one should have to do this. How are people living like this? It will never stop. I’m scared. I need help. This isn’t stopping.
1:56 a.m.– “Babe? Baby, please wake up. I’m not good.”
1:57 a.m.– A hug. A smile. He is perfect. I am the luckiest person in the universe.
1:58 a.m. – He would be better off without me. How does he even live like this? He can’t even sleep without me annoying him. One day he will see this is a big mistake and leave. I have to be OK if he does. So if he ever wants to go, he can. I don’t want him to stay because I am like this. Why would anyone want to be with me? My own family don’t want to be around me, why would he?
1:59 a.m.– He takes me back to the couch. We are talking. A hug. A kiss. My mind calms.
2:15 a.m.– I’m falling asleep. I need to get back to bed.
4:59 a.m.– I’m awake. It’s morning. It’s another day. I’m scared. Please, be a good day.
5:00 a.m.– I’m startled by a loud snore next to me. Looking over, I know even if it’s a bad day, I’ll still be OK.