All posts filed under: Living With BPD

Ask about BPD: Dissociation, Derealization and Depersonalization

Does anyone else feel like life almost isn’t actually happening? Like you’re a part in a movie, playing out a role, following a script & switching to different “characters” based on your mood? To answer your question briefly, yes. In fact, many of us face these feelings at some point in our lives. The feeling that you can’t possibly be living out the current situation in ‘real life’ is actually more common than you might think. Oftentimes, this happens when the reality we’re faced with disagrees with the reality we hope for. If you’re a fan of reading subtitles for the entire duration of a movie, Guillermo del Torro wrote and directed a brilliant portrayal of this very premise with his 2006 film Pan’s Labyrinth. Without giving up any spoilers, the basic premise is that a young Spanish girl named Ofelia finds herself escaping to an eerie fantasy land to play out the part of a legendary lost princess. Even though these feelings of derealization and depersonalization are often brought on in response to trauma …

Christmas with BPD

A Word of warning – if you’re feeling at all dapper or cheerful about 2016’s upcoming Christmas, most likely not a good idea for you to continue any further…   Christmas’s have always been a very bad time for me. I was never “allowed” to have them as a kid, and I have grown up not celebrating those or Birthdays (birthdays were also a forbidden thing). With every coming Xmas, it seems my insides begin to turn even more than the previous one, with the oncoming explosion of ridiculous festivities, “family get-together” and everything else that encompasses the “stupid season”. For someone like myself who identifies Christmas and Birthdays with trauma, bad times and loneliness, it’s upsetting and triggering to see so many people “faking” it every year just for the sake of the family or friends that they feel they need to impress in order to fit in. Growing up, Christmas was something I dreaded every fucking year, it made me feel sick and empty inside every year – sometimes weeks prior to it …

Just let me write

I haven’t written in a while. I’m not sure if this is something I should be apologising for. Part of me feels that I should, as I am sorry for most of the things that I do, or in this case didn’t do. The other part of me feels as though it doesn’t matter if I apologise or not because nobody actually cares. My apology will float away and get sucked up in some black vacuum as though it never existed in the first place. A few months ago someone lashed out at a piece of writing I had published. As much as I tried to understand their reaction and their perspective and why they wrote what they did, it didn’t hurt any less and I allowed them to make me question myself and whether or not I had the right to feel the things that I feel, let alone write about them. I write so other people can feel less alone because I know how terrible it is to feel lonely. I write so …

Bullying and Discrimination

Although I have often been asked about my attraction to darker literature, films, music and people in general, I have never really given it much thought (in terms of where BPD is concerned). Growing up, I was always a considered a bit “strange” or “weird” by my peers – other kids were reading “Dick and Jane” books, yet as early as the age of 7-8 I was engrossed by Stephen King, Dean Koontz and others. I was engulfing these books at a pretty rapid rate, and instead of using my school library, I would go to the local public library to get my fix (school didn’t cater for me). Horror films started earlier, my parents being the way they were, would let my brother and I watch whatever we liked, alone (or often while they were doing other things around the house). We purchased our first VHS recorder when I was 4-5 years of age, in 1979-1980, and that was a great time for films (horror in general), and some of the first films I …

Carers support vs “consumers” support.

Lately I have been at conflict regarding the amount of support available for “carers” vs the support available for people with Borderline Personality Disorder (labeled here as “consumers”). To be honest, the amount of services and groups (support and otherwise) available to people caring for someone with BPD greatly outweighs anything available for us. It is easy for carers to get caught up in the whole “needing help to deal/cope” with someone with BPD thing, yer it is easier still for people with BPD to feel helpless, when there are currently not significant services available to treat their associated needs properly. Helplessness in BPD people breeds disaster, we all know this, feelings of helplessness, neglect, isolation and rejection can result from lack of good service, and yet seeing the people who “care” for them access services instead can also make them feel vulnerable, rejected, and angered at the state of affairs. The whole thing is a mess really – pathways do not exist for BPD diagnosed individuals – we are given a diagnoses and told …

We’re Still Here

You know who I am. We share these feelings, you and I. Many times we have awoken to the agonising sensation of the air being sucked from our lungs. We know the feeling of our stomachs contorting with pure, unadulterated grief. We’ve felt the vicious heat rise from that terrible place that we often call home and we’ve witnessed the bloody waterfalls tumbling recklessly behind our eyes for days, for weeks, for months on end. There are days when our skin hangs limp off our bodies like cheap tissue paper, and days when we’ve needed this not to be our truth. As strangers we have felt this together. We’ve shared a collective memory despite our flesh not ever having met. A memory with a common thread that doesn’t call our frail existence into question. Too many fingers on too many hands are needed to count the number of times we have sunk, but just as many hands have returned to propel us back to the surface. Amongst all this chaos and terror, we have risen up time and time again. Every time. We are still here …