BPD And The Daily Life

I can only write this from my perspective, of course. I can’t tell you what my family goes through. I don’t know what my friends experience. I could guess, but that would be it, a guess. But here is what I go through.

The following is going to be bits and pieces of coherent, we hope, thought as it comes to me.

First is the rage. I can literally see the switch in my head flip from peaceful to ready to explode. I only wish there was a visual clue to those around me. But I fill with rage in an instant and it just explodes out. I’m not violent with it, though that is an impulse I fight every second. My only real hope of it never getting that far is to find the right combination of meds.

From there, impulses. They vary. Everyone has basic impulses. Gut reactions. Instincts even. The thing about my impulses is that they can be very less than helpful. The impulse to quit a job because of a hard day. The impulse to hurt myself because of a rough week. I am very lucky that I’m through the job quitting phase. Everyone I’ve left have been for a solid reason. But each time it was the final straw impulse that put me there. In my current position I’ve had my tough times and I’ve talked myself out of quitting several times. I’m just lucky my love of the job is stronger than my impulse for self defense that leaves to the “I quit”. As for the impulse to hurt myself, that started right before I was in the hospital, and it ended before I got pregnant with Luke. It lasted not even 6 months. I’d say 3 or so. And I don’t plan to do it again. Another impulse that isn’t worth it.

Not all impulses are that extreme. Most of them are standard not thinking before I think or act. A lot of it can be brushed away as minor. But words and actions do hurt. And not everyone is so quick to forgive. Or worse yet, years of verbal impulses can chip away what patience there is. And I see what I’m doing. I know the pain. But I’m powerless to stop it. I honestly don’t know what I’m saying till it’s out of my mouth. I know, I know… think before you speak. I’m getting better. I wouldn’t be married otherwise. Here’s the kicker. I can usually convince myself something is harmless or can be explained to harmless in the 2 seconds it takes to think before I speak. I’m not usually right though.

Splitting is I think one of the worse parts. Imagine your entire world is black or white. Black is evil. White is godly. Everything is one of the 2, no half and half, and NO gray. That’s splitting. It mostly pertains to people.

I’m going to get the Andrew aspect out of the way here. He for the longest time was my first and only gray. I saw the good and bad in him at the same time. It’s been awhile. He’s mostly black now. I’ve spent a long time convincing myself of that. I don’t know if I can or could still see the good in him. I don’t want to. I’m happier seeing him as black.

Pat has been flip flopping between the 2 for years now. He can flip 10 times in one day, or he can go days or months before a flip. It has a lot to do with how we are treating each other. One minute he can be making me dinner and he is white as hell. The next minute he used instant mac and cheese, not the regular, and he’s suddenly evil. True story. My defense? He knew I wouldn’t eat the instant shit, why did he bother making it? Currently he won’t let me bite his neck, so black. Just teasing. But this will make him laugh when he reads this.

Not everyone is one or the other. Doesn’t mean they are gray. We’ll call them transparent. I don’t think there is a better way to describe it.

And my kids we’ll call rainbow. It’s like a whole different way of thinking.

As for myself, I’m usually black or transparent. That’s just how it works.

There is so much to add but I’m done for now.

2 thoughts on “BPD And The Daily Life

  1. My sister and I have NEVER been close. Over the last 8 months, she has started to want a relationship with me. I have invested time and serious effort to be HONEST with her…and try to put my all in this as she SAYS she is going to do as well. She said to me about 5 months ago,” I am not going to lie to you anymore Kate.. I love you” and we agreed to not lie anymore to each other. (LYING is my thing.. it’s what I’ve done forever about stupid stuff and idk why) What I can’t stop from flashing in my mind: “SHE HAS A BAD INTENTION! SHE WANTS TO HURT ME! WHAT IS HER INTENTION? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY DOES SHE WANT ME TO BE HONEST? WHO IS SHE PLOTTING WITH TO HURT ME SOCIALLY?” I hate this brain of mine! I want to know that my sister loves me. I NEED to know that she does. I just can’t do it… I can’t trust even my sister and it’s my f***ing brain! I hate being me…I know I’m crazy… I have BPD and it is the only disorder that can not be treated with medication…. with GOD!? [typing this is making me bawl uncontrollably]

    I did something last weekend that was incredibly impulsive and hurtful to my sister. My mind was just going…wouldn’t stop…. about the things that she has done to me in the past (backstabbing me by disclosing information to my parents about me when I told her in confidence, physically hitting me & stealing from me) which of course, I have done hurtful things in the past but in my mind… what she has done to me is worse (may or may not be accurate). When I get wrapped up in how much she could potentially hurt me….. I go to a dark place… I find that the closer my sister and I get..the more frequently I am thinking she is against me.

    Last weekend, I went onto her Facebook and reported a picture that she had posted a rare photo of our family together. In the comment box that was sent to her via Facebook abuse reporting team, I… I don’t even remember what I said! I can’t even remember!! It must have been really bad… I do that a lot.. when I get mad.. I am aware of what I am doing and the intention I have during the moment but I can’t remember it in detail… I think it was something to the effect of… “take down the picture because I don’t want to be publicly seen with someone who truly hates me…and that I hate the fact that I ever got close to her”

    The next day, I tried calling her and calling her. I sent her an email on Facebook and to her two emails…AND a text to both her cellphone and google voice # saying that I was very sorry about what I did.. that I did love her but I just lost it…

    I hate myself…a lot of the time. I know, after trying to interact with society and trying to obtain and keep friends/relationships, that my family is really all that I have and maybe all that I will have, ever. Not if I keep… being me… and continuing to…have BPD.. ugh! My family has been through some hell with me…. hell and back and maybe done that 10 times over. They have cut me off from communicating with them multiple times knowing that I didn’t have a job (most likely i didn’t because i keep quitting mine), a roof over my head, or a friend in the world. I told myself this time around I am going to do things differently….. and I have! I am starting to get scared that I am slipping….

    I don’t want to lose them again…..

    Thank you for being you… your posts have helped me feel like I am not alone in this world who suffer from this. I was in a Dialectical Behavioral Therapy Intensive Outpatient program about a year ago… DBT is for BPD right? Not one person in that group had BPD! NOT ONE! I have never met anyone with this diagnosis…. and I just feel like I am…. the odd man out and everyone around me is “normal” – just staring at me dumbfounded because I am the “crazy person”. I have even been named Crazy Kate by people who said they were my friends! So…really…. thank you so much… keep posting!

    • Oh sweetie. You are so not alone! And I will keep posting no matter what. I get quiet sometimes but I intend to not let that happen again. I enjoy blogging too much.

      I can’t stress enough to do whatever it takes to fix your relationship with your family. They are everything. But I think you already know that. So I just want to add in the nugget while some may think it’s never too late, it really can be. It really can. I face maybe losing my sister this summer and am living in a world of regret of years wasted of us not being close.

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