BorderlineThoughts

I’m not sure what I expect from posting this, other than to know that I’m not really alone. Although, it certainly feels that way 99% of the time. I struggle every day to get out of bed and do the absolute minimum that I know I have to do and some days I can’t even do that. It’s not that it’s something I can’t physically do, because I can. It’s more that I feel paralyzed by myself and all of the thoughts, fears, and insecurities. I know there are things my mind is protecting me from knowing and I’m happy to leave those things where they are. The parts of my life I do remember are painful enough ... from childhood to now. By the way, I’m a forty(ish) woman who was only diagnosed as BPD just over a year ago. I was diagnosed with GAD 3 years ago and at the same time, I was diagnosed with conversion disorder - which causes seizures when I’m too stressed or anxious. I’m also a disabled veteran using the VA healthcare system as my
only source of medical care. Most importantly, I’m a mom of 3 boys - one 23 y/o and 12 y/o twins. Lastly, I run a struggling 501(c)3 nonprofit animal rescue which is quite literally the only thing that I’m confident I can do on a daily basis. I, literally, have to force myself out of bed in the morning and get the kids to school. Some days my day begins when I get in that car but most days, after I get them to school, I come home and go right back to where I was when I woke up (as I’ve done today) and I spend the day there spinning out about all of the things I can’t control and the bills I can’t pay and the animals I can’t help and my kids who I can’t always be present in the moment for ... it’s a never ending cycle. Always spinning out ... and the thoughts and fears and insecurities overwhelm me. Then I cry. How did I end up like this? I am a Marine. I survived boot camp and 11 years on active duty and I just can’t. So many things ... every single day. Is it just me or is this normal? I read other posts on here and it feels like some of the people are ripping the words and thoughts from my head. Yes! I’m not alone. But wait ... these are complete strangers that don’t know me so how could they possibly help me or understand me ... so much baggage and I’m just so overwhelmed. I’m tired of asking for help only to be rejected. I’m estranged from the bulk of my family. They don’t understand what I’m going through and ALL of them diminish my illness and reject and undermine the work I’m doing with the rescue. The animals I help are just payback for all of the animals that have helped me by providing unconditional love / something I’ve never known from my family. I know there are others that struggle like I do but my struggles make me feel weak, worthless and unlovable. So, is it just me or is this normal? What exactly is “normal” anyway? ... #BorderlineThoughts #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder

I’m not sure what I expect from posting this, other than to know that I’m not really alone. Although, it certainly feels that way 99% of the time. I struggle every day to get out of bed and do the absolute minimum that I know I have to do and some days I can’t even do that. It’s not that it’s something I can’t physically do, because I can. It’s more that I feel paralyzed by myself and all of the thoughts, fears, and insecurities. I know there are things my mind is protecting me from knowing and I’m happy to leave those things where they are. The parts of my life I do remember are painful enough ... from childhood to now. By the way, I’m a forty(ish) woman who was only diagnosed as BPD just over a year ago. I was diagnosed with GAD 3 years ago and at the same time, I was diagnosed with conversion disorder - which causes seizures when I’m too stressed or anxious. I’m also a disabled veteran using the VA healthcare system as my
only source of medical care. Most importantly, I’m a mom of 3 boys - one 23 y/o and 12 y/o twins. Lastly, I run a struggling 501(c)3 nonprofit animal rescue which is quite literally the only thing that I’m confident I can do on a daily basis. I, literally, have to force myself out of bed in the morning and get the kids to school. Some days my day begins when I get in that car but most days, after I get them to school, I come home and go right back to where I was when I woke up (as I’ve done today) and I spend the day there spinning out about all of the things I can’t control and the bills I can’t pay and the animals I can’t help and my kids who I can’t always be present in the moment for ... it’s a never ending cycle. Always spinning out ... and the thoughts and fears and insecurities overwhelm me. Then I cry. How did I end up like this? I am a Marine. I survived boot camp and 11 years on active duty and I just can’t. So many things ... every single day. Is it just me or is this normal? I read other posts on here and it feels like some of the people are ripping the words and thoughts from my head. Yes! I’m not alone. But wait ... these are complete strangers that don’t know me so how could they possibly help me or understand me ... so much baggage and I’m just so overwhelmed. I’m tired of asking for help only to be rejected. I’m estranged from the bulk of my family. They don’t understand what I’m going through and ALL of them diminish my illness and reject and undermine the work I’m doing with the rescue. The animals I help are just payback for all of the animals that have helped me by providing unconditional love / something I’ve never known from my family. I know there are others that struggle like I do but my struggles make me feel weak, worthless and unlovable. So, is it just me or is this normal? What exactly is “normal” anyway? ... #BorderlineThoughts #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder

Those who fight ANY kind of mental illness deserve a medal. My particular form of mental illness is Borderline Personality Disorder. It is up there with the mother of all CRAZIES! It has destroyed friendships, relationships; with my children, my family and essentially my whole life.
If it were not for this wretched beast that lies coiled up inside of me where my soul is supposed to be, I could have been so much more. Done so much more. Saved so much more. I listen to my doctor. I take my correct meds. Read everything I can get my hands on in regards to it, but NOTHING, helps.
Are there truly such things as lost causes? If so I AM ONE. As I type this blog post, my vision keeps blurring at the notion of how calm and peaceful my life could have been if I were not one of the Chosen ones to spend a lifetime of suffering grievous wounds that no one can even see.

It took me about two hours of searching to find your grave. I have been there before, but for some reason I was lost. I’ve been in a haze lately and I couldn’t remember anything about where you were buried except that I had followed a squirrel last time to your grave. #DissociationDisorders

This time I had walked aimlessly, relentlessly reminding myself to stay calm and not get upset that I was lost in the cemetery. I wasn’t scared or anything like that, I just wanted to see you and to talk to you before it got dusk and I had to leave. I had actually gotten lost last time and found you, so I was hopeful.
I was also proud that this time I wasn’t breaking down and sobbing like the last time when I couldn’t find you. #DBT This time I was keeping my calm and reassuring myself that I would find you. As two hours came to an end and I had walked multiple miles up and down this cemetery, I noticed another road to the left. Within minutes I was face to headstone with my Nana, my Pop-Pop and my Aunt Donna.

I said hello to grandpa and aunt Donna, but I had really come to say hi to you Nana. #HeartTransplant You has died suddenly of a broken heart and I had never forgotten how much it had hurt me to lose you. You were always my biggest supporter. You didn’t care when I brought a girl to Thanksgiving that one year. You never made me feel like I was strange for not being like any of the other grandkids. You thought it was cute I was a tomboy and beat all the boys at basketball. And when I would cry you never shamed me like most everyone else. You would always smile at me and usually bake me something. I miss you nana. I miss feeling even a bit of sane around you in a world that makes me feel like I am crazy. #BPD Ever since my diagnosis I have been lost and I just wanted to feel safe again without judgement. I just needed someone.

I touched your headstone and I said a prayer to you. May I remember this pain next time I feel pain. May I remember this is the pain my Dad will feel if I kill myself. This is the pain my brothers will feel if I give up. This is the same name my mom will touch with her hands if I leave before my time. Thank you for the two hour walk to find you today, I didn’t think I could do it but I can. I didn’t break and I didn’t give up. Thank you for being there. I know you would be disappointed if I gave up even if you understand my pain. You are the only woman I ever knew that lived with a broken heart-literally, even if it wasn’t for very long, so I know, it can be done. This ripping in my chest, this pain in my head and this emotional trauma core does not have to be my headstone. This does not have to be my headstone. This does not have to be me.

I can’t choose BPD but I can choose whether I let my borderline take my life.

#BPDDiagnosis #BorderlinePersonalityDisorderBPD #BPDBanter #Suicide #DissociationDisorders #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #BorderlineThoughts