I'm the One Who Feels Deeply
Naked – stripped off of all the defensive layers.
Raw – sensitive thoughts and emotions.
Eruptive – with wavering identity and courage!
That’s what I am – a girl fighting borderline!
It’s hard – not to stop, not to think, not to feel, not to be afraid of myself and everyone else. It’s hard – to put down that bottle of beer that makes me feel good. It’s hard – not to lose temper at the loved one. It’s hard – to hide my fears under that masquerade of naiveté and cheerfulness. It’s hard – to not self-harm or tell myself, “It’s not your fault.”
A person very close to me recently said, “You’re never going to change. Because you don’t want to. Well, stay the same! Because it’s not my problem… and I’m giving up on you.” A part of me knows it’s alright as I knew I wanted to change, and that I could definitely make it through, because I always have. But all that showed on the outside were the tears, accompanied by intense the fear of abandonment. I begged my friend, much to his chagrin and disgust. Well, what he didn’t know was that I felt the disgust for myself too.
From the time I became aware of the fluctuations in my behavioral patterns, I have been trying to figure out what it was. I had felt rage, grief and elation, instead of anger, sadness and joy. It’s like my mind had a magnifying glass of its own. I am this sweet person overshadowed by madness and many other things. Then started my battle with the identity crisis – no, not the career-related one. The personal one! It began with disagreements, crying, screaming, yelling, laughing, hurting my loved ones physically and verbally, and last but not the least, hurting myself physically and emotionally. The journey went on and on, up and down a rocky road that never seemed to flatten out.
A while ago, I blogged about waging a war with depression. But I never realized there could be more. I felt empty all the time. Depression was just a little part of it, but not the whole. I made new friends, thought life was going to be fun now, but my inner demons were never quite silenced. They came back, hurting the one I cared deeply, and wanted a life with. I scared him away, as well as all my friends, with my irrationality.
I threatened to kill myself, I banged my head against a wall, I made a huge scene on the road in the middle of the night – my friends were still there, but I knew they were not going to be for long. I took a call the next day and went to the psychiatrist again. And boom! It wasn’t depression. It never was! It was borderline personality disorder, which was dwelling inside me since long.
For those who don’t know, borderline is all about emotional instability which can lead to other things as well – eating disorders, depression, substance abuse, addiction, self-harm, suicidal tendencies – what not?
We trust people too much, care too much, yet live in this immense fear of abandonment. We feel we’re unworthy of love or that this shrewd world doesn’t deserve us. It’s always an erupting volcano inside our heads. All we get is, “It’s all in your head,” “You’re at fault,” “You don’t want to help yourself,” “You need to be fixed,” “You’ll never change,” “You’re a psychopath,” “I’m done dealing with you.” Well, bring ’em on! Is that the best you’ve got?
I may look hunky dory and cool to everyone who just met me; but I am someone with a fluctuating sense of identity, impulsiveness, uncontrollable emotions, dissociation, distorted self-image; but deep down, I am also someone who’s brave and strong enough to get out of this mess.
Dear fellow beings, I am not the only one who feels deeply. There are thousands out there who hurt themselves and fall down a spiral of self-hatred, guilt and fear of abandonment.
And the least you could do it is to understand or support, instead of all the name calling. ‘Cause trust me, the world we live in isn’t colorful, it’s just painfully black and white.
Follow this journey on Harikalicious.
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Thinkstock photo via Natalia Kuchumova