Alecia Fuller

I live with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and borderline personality disorder (BPD) and I’ve lived through many kinds of trauma my whole life. When you grow up with trauma from abuse, it shapes you into an entirely different person, an extremely sensitive one, because you had to be sensitive to your surroundings. You had to be sensitive to every sound, to changes in voice or body language, to anything that might tell you to run or hide so you don’t become subject to someone’s changing emotions. Your room was your safe place where you listened to the screams, but once you left that room you were vulnerable and the anxiety and fear that come with that debilitate you. And sadly, it’s always been this way. There have been periods of my life when there wasn’t abuse, but it seemed nowhere was ever safe because I always ended up in this place: hurt, vulnerable and alone. And because of what I’ve been through, my emotions are extreme. I feel everything like third-degree burns, or someone’s piercing my heart with a knife. The pain is extreme, my thoughts are extreme, and sometimes it gets too hard to cope with that, especially when the flashbacks or nightmares happen. I can never escape the hell I’ve been through. And when I’m in these situations, the worst thing is tough love. Yelling at me, putting me down, telling me to get over it and let it go, that I’m stronger than this, that I’m better than this, all while being frustrated or angry at the fact I’m upset in the first place. And yet, all of that just sends me deeper into my fear, anxiety and insecurities. They make the situation worse in every possible way because you’re triggering exactly what caused this in the first place. I need you to understand that if you want to help me. What I really need is actual love, kindness and empathy. You want to help me through my spells, and help me get through the darkness that tries to consume me whole? Just sit with me. You don’t need to talk, but if you do, only say it’s OK to be feeling what I am feeling. You may not understand it, and I don’t think you ever can, but that doesn’t mean you’re helpless. Give me a hug, if I’ll let you. Sometimes I won’t want to be touched. But just sit with me. Sit with me in the dark until I can see the light again. I promise you I will; I just need a little support because doing all this alone can get too overwhelming.

I feel like I’m sitting on the edge of a cliff. Constantly on the brink, just waiting to fall. Figuratively, below me is death, and behind me someone has a gun to my head. I can’t move, I’m frozen. If I close my eyes and breathe — just breathe — maybe it will disappear. If only for a second. But as soon as I open them, I’m back on that edge, and the anxiety comes rushing back. The panic, the racing thoughts, the knot in my chest that won’t leave. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I’m just stuck in this eternal hell. And I know what to do when my anxiety gets worse. I even know what’s causing it. The flashbacks, the trauma, my mind has decided to unblock. I didn’t get a choice, I don’t choose to live like this. In fact I try everything to try make it better. Meditate. Ground myself. Breathe. Allow myself to feel. It’s OK to feel, even if I fucking hate it. I just want this feeling to go away. But breathe. Allow it to be. It will pass, maybe not now, maybe not soon, but eventually it will pass. I keep reminding myself it’s OK, that I can get through this. I have before and I will now. But none of that makes it any easier. Anxiety this intense is all-consuming. It freezes my life, and takes over. I don’t feel like I have any control. I know what to do, I know how to survive, but doing this alone is hard. More than anything I need support. I kind hand, a listening ear or someone just to sit with me as I want to scream in fear. So if someone you know or love has anxiety, understand they are doing the best they can and a little support goes a long way. And if you struggle with all-consuming anxiety, be still and know you will be OK, maybe not now, but eventually it will pass and you will be able to breathe freely again.

I’m scared to get close and I hate being alone. I long for that feeling to not feel at all. The higher I get, the lower I’ll sink. I can’t drown my demons they know how to swim. Can you feel my heart? — Bring Me to the Horizon I have these lyrics tattooed across my scars, because they explain perfectly the struggles I face with borderline personality disorder (BPD). “I’m scared to get close,” describes the walls I’ve built up over time and my irrational fear of abandonment. I’m always scared people will leave because my borderline personality disorder has always been too much for people to handle, and so they always leave. It’s isolated me and made me feel so alone. But I hate being alone, especially when I’m going through a bad patch. I fear being alone, because I fear myself. I fear my own thoughts. The thoughts of self-harm and suicide, that are so constant, to me it’s normal. But sometimes I wish someone was by my side telling me everything will be OK, on the days I don’t have the strength to convince myself that these thoughts and emotions will eventually fade. “I long for the feeling to not feel at all” describes my constant battle with unstable extreme emotions. Emotions that feel like third degree burns all over my body. That are so physically painful, I would rather hurt myself than feel them. I would rather numb myself with drugs, cutting, binging or alcohol than ever feel the intensity of them. In time and through therapy, I’ve learned to sit with them, but for a long time tearing myself to pieces was the only way I knew. “The higher I get, the lower I’ll sink” describes the lows that always follow a high. I can’t simply have a good day, or be happy for a while without it all come crashing down around me again. I can be doing everything right. Taking my medication, sleeping eight hours a night, eating regular meals, exercising, meditating and not drinking or using drugs and yet suddenly everything will get dark again, and for a while I feel like I’m being swallowed whole again. Like there’s this monster inside that never leaves, she’s just waiting in the background to f**k shit up again. And I know it will pass, and the light will start to shine through again. I just have to ride out the storm and fight everyday for what people would consider normality. “I can’t drown my demons, they know how to swim” describes the battle I’ve had over the years in learning to accept everything I am as a person who struggles and lives with borderline personality disorder. I no longer fight it, and sometimes I relapse, but I’ve accepted that I’m just a deeply feeling person in a somewhat shallow world. I know there’s a lot of people just like me, and they are beautiful people just like I am. These lyrics aren’t just lyrics, they are who I am and they allowed me to feel whole and not alone in something I always felt alone feeling.

I wish I could say that society was getting better, that there was no prejudice against mental illness — but I feel it every day. Not only do I struggle with borderline personality disorder (BPD), social anxiety, eating disorders and major depressive disorder, I also live with chronic illness. Fibromyalgia, chronic migraines, colitis, gastritis and IBS which I know are all flared up by stress that my mental illnesses can cause. But how is it fair for everything to be blamed on my mental illness? I should be able to walk into the doctor or emergency and to have my physical illnesses taken seriously. Instead, I feel ashamed and judged because I live with mental illness. “Are you sure you’re not just exhausted because you’re depressed?” No. It is not normal for me to sleep all night and all day. In fact, when I’m severely depressed or going through a bad patch with borderline, I often don’t sleep that well, and I also function pretty normally. I get up and go to work, go to the gym, try to eat healthy and look after myself and try to maintain a social life. Even when passive suicidal thoughts are ailing me. In fact it’s the opposite. My physical health is making me depressed and affecting my mood because it’s preventing me from living my life. “Are you sure you don’t need to talk to someone?” No. I see someone on a regular basis, I get you’re concerned by my self-inflicted wounds, but I’m not here about that. I’m here because I’m in so much pain that I can’t breathe. And yet I get sent home without a second thought because I can’t get anyone to take me seriously because I live with mental illnesses. I’ve lived with mental illnesses for over 10 years. I’m used to the highs — although I mainly experience lows. I know how to manage them. I know to reach out if I’m at risk. Yes, occasionally I relapse and do stupid shit, but I pull myself together and keep living my life. I also live with chronic suicidal thoughts, but they are passive and I keep fighting each day and believing there’s hope for a better life. I just wish you would take me seriously when I come to you about my physical health, because honestly that is what is keeping me down and preventing me from living the life I want to live. All I want is to be taken seriously. To be treated like any other person. To have answers for why I’m so sick right now so that maybe I wouldn’t have to struggle as much as I do every day, and to never feel ashamed for living with mental illness again.

“Just forget it,” he said. How could I simply forget the immense pain welling up in his eyes. How could I forget the pain I felt as it stabbed my heart with a knife. How could he not understand the pain he felt — as he screwed up his face and tried to hide — was the pain I felt. “Just leave your work at the door,” they said. “It’s not your problem anymore. It’s not your burden to bear.” How could they not understand I just can’t “switch off” my feelings? That I feel everything my clients feel. I feel their pain. I feel their sadness. I feel their joy. If something goes wrong, I take that home with me because my feelings can’t just be switched off. They often last longer than other peoples’. Having borderline personality disorder (BPD), combined with living through the pain I have lived through my whole life, both physical and mental. It gives you a sixth sense. I feel what you feel. I recognize pain and suffering in complete strangers. And to the people I love, their pain is my pain. I feel the intensity of their pain in my soul. It tears me apart as much as my own pain does. I often sense changes in emotion before others recognize it themselves. It’s invisible. You can’t see it, and I can’t explain what it’s like to live with it. And despite the pain it causes me, I wouldn’t change a single thing about it because it’s what makes me who I am. We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here . Getty Images photo via Grandfailure

Editor’s note: If you experience suicidal thoughts, the following post could be potentially triggering. You can contact the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741-741. How can you not understand what you do to me? Are you really so blind every time you completely destroy me Remember when all I wanted to do was run away from you As you turned your back ignoring me, basically saying fuck you. How would you feel if every second you wanted to die And the only person you loved completely ignored you I’ve been bad lately, with a rollercoaster of emotions But nothing compares to the impulsivity that makes me want to end it. I was cautious about letting you in because of our past But I let you in despite my cautious heart Now I feel stupid and worthless because you broke my trust Not only that you broke my faith in us. Why couldn’t you just be honest and tell me the truth? Why crush me beyond an immeasurable bruise Rip my heart out and stomp on it too Why’d you even tell me you loved me When you had no plans about ever being with me I flew to a different country, I’d do anything for you But you can’t even be honest and say sorry. You’ve hurt me in more ways than I can count. But your ego’s so big, you can’t even back down. You don’t get to decide if you broke me, Aren’t you supposed to be communicating properly? Now all I’m going to do is say goodbye. From this miserable life, you made me want to die. I can’t fight anymore, not on my own. I hope you find someone that becomes your home. All I wanted was a life with you. A chance to be happy, instead of blue. It’s as simple as that. Not hard. But I know now I deserve better than you. Having borderline personality disorder (BPD) and fearing abandonment has led me to hold onto toxic relationships and abuse my whole life because I was so scared to be alone. I believed it when they made me feel worthless and that I wasn’t good enough. I believed everything was my fault, just like they told me it was. Having BPD isn’t an excuse for why I react the way I do, but it is an explanation. No one deserves to be treated or made to feel the way I have my whole life. I’m not the person they made me believe I was, and neither are you. Having a mental illness doesn’t make me or anyone any less deserving of love or kindness. I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions, but in 2018 I’m finally letting go of all the people who belittle me or drag me down. I deserve better. I am better. And so are you. If you or someone you know needs help, visit our suicide prevention resources page. If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 , the Trevor Project at 1-866-488-7386 or reach the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741-741. We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here . Getty Images photo via twinsterphoto

Why do I feel like this isn’t real An unimportant part in a bad deal A secret you hide from your world A second choice, never a first You say you want me but you shy away From anything real, is that really OK? I’m patient and waiting, just trying to understand What goes on in your head, give me a hand. My mind second-guesses everything between us. Especially when I feel you’re hidden behind a mask. It’s hard for me when you don’t let me in. Instead keeping me away from showing me your within. You only want to be with me when you want some comfort. Within my arms, or body, or something. I want adventures, something more than this. Sometimes I’m bored, even if it’s bliss. Have we hit a wall, are we moving forward? Not stuck in this abandon, going dormant. Maybe if you just let me know what’s in your mind. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel like I’m blind. I don’t know what to do or how to feel. Because maybe it’s just my mind on a paranoia wheel. Anxiety is locking me to the ground. I want to hide and never be found. Safe in my bubble, unable to be harmed. The thoughts die down, I start to feel calm. Maybe I’m just not ready for this. But I’m not ready to give up because you I would miss. You make my world, I’d choose you every day. You make me feel safe, make my pain go away. It’s my thoughts I promise, I’m not doubting us. Sometimes it’s just hard, my mind in relationships. The above is an example of what happens to my mind as a person with borderline personality disorder (BPD) after any small conflict with a partner. My mind immediately goes into a roller coaster of thoughts full of doubt, specifically self-doubt. Am I good enough? Am I too much? What could I do to be better? Why would anyone love me? Do you love me? Are you sure you love me? Most of all, I wish I wasn’t like this and I wish you could understand. It’s not that I doubt the relationship; I just doubt anyone could ever really love me, because most run away. I want you to know that maybe I’m difficult to love, but my love is worth it. I will love more fiercely than anyone ever will, and although my incessant questions of whether you still love me may drive you “crazy,” please just answer. I understand it might be hard to reassure me of the same thing repeatedly, but it is as simple as reassuring me. It’s as simple as being open and talking to me, rather than getting angry and shutting me out. I will help you in loving me, if you help by trying to understand me. We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here . Thinkstock photo via dobok