All posts tagged: emotions

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The Beauty in Destruction

“Later that night I held an atlas in my lap, ran my fingers across the whole world and whispered ‘where does it hurt?’. It answered everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.”-Warsan Shire I’ve always found inspiration in nature. A tree growing out of a boulder can be a quiet example of resiliency and fortitude. A river slowly carving a canyon through a mountain over the course of millennia can be seen as a lesson in patience. Both of these seemingly small forces of nature are entirely unaware that they create a permanent change in the landscape around them. Nature proves that life is struggle, and that beauty comes from that struggle. I found myself seeking retreat in nature again this weekend. My heart broken, and filled with negativity, I set out for a weekend of hiking. I chose hikes known for their steep grades and drop offs because in my mind, this just might be my last day on earth. Onward I trudge, my usual delight with hiking replaced by a crushingly persistent internal dialogue constantly reminding me …

head and heart

My beginning

This is only my second post on this site– the first post that isn’t in the Ask About BPD segment, so I wanted to share some of my story. I call it the beginning only because this chain of events is what forced me into treatment. I’m sure that over time I’ll divulge information that predates the events detailed below. We’ll call those prologues when we get to them. For now, I’d like to share a post from a personal blog of mine. I started this blog because I wanted people to know they weren’t alone. When I started my journey I couldn’t find anyone who seemed to think and feel as I did–I felt that I was truly alone. That was before I discovered this lovely Blog and associated Facebook page, of course. I hope you will read this with an open mind. Boy, am I far from perfect and I hope that if you don’t relate to my story you will at least withhold judgement. Trigger warning! This entry discusses intense feelings of …

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Ask About BPD: Self Medication

Ask About BPD: I have a question… why is the only thing that seems to make my son seem half normal to self medicate. When he is stoned he seems to manage so well and seem so at peace and able to cope.. but as soon as his buzz wears off he is crazy angry again ;-( It’s a lose lose situation it seems ….   I’m assuming that the drug in question is marijuana, so I will base my answer on that. Self medicating is not uncommon amongst people suffering from any number of the many varieties of disorders that fall under the depression umbrella, especially those of us living with BPD. Nearly half of those diagnosed with BPD have histories of substance abuse disorder, a shockingly high number, though slightly less surprising when you consider that one of the most common characteristics of BPD is a lack of impulse control.   Why Cannabis: One would seem to be hard-pressed to find a high-strung marijuana user–not to say that they don’t exist (I work …

skin-back

Melanie’s Voice: No Emotional Skin.

I read an article that said people like me, people with BPD, have no emotional skin. I think that’s false. I do have emotional skin, but it’s a lot like my true skin. Some areas are great and others are covered in sores. Some people find these sores and they have a way of picking at them, boring holes in them, making the scares worse, until I can’t take it anymore and I lose it. Outbursts Rage. Silence. Indifference. Did they see it coming? Maybe? Maybe not. But for whatever reason once the reset button is pushed, the I hate you, I love you, don’t leave me cycle is complete, they go right back to the sore and finish where they left off and the wound never gets a chance to heal. If they are around long enough, pick at my weaknesses and faults long enough, the wound will be too deep, and I might never heal.

Monique

My Saving Grace

I wrote this poem as a tribute to the person I hurt the most whilst being hospitalised and losing myself and my mind completely. Though, in my mind, I had treated her as badly as you could treat another human being, not for one second did she ever consider giving up on me. She was my saving grace. This is for her and all the other friends and family who have had to witness their loved ones going through what some of us can only describe as hell and not being able to stop the pain. In this small patch of sunlight, I feel myself grow. I think of you often, and more than you know. I silently thank you for holding my hand, while I clung to a thread with my head in the sand. I searched for some peace and I pleaded my case, while my spirit dissolved in this pitiful place. Meanwhile, I watched your heart in suspense, in me, you struggled to find any sense. Wild eyed and raging, I ran …

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Living with BPD: Behind Every Excuse is the Real Reason

Today we are rebloging a post from Love on a Border by Carrissa Wright http://loveonaborder.blogspot.com.au/2016/01/behind-every-excuse-is-real-reason.html Tuesday, 5 January 2016 Behind every excuse is the real reason One of the things that I’ve recognised as a differentiator between healthy and unhealthy relationships is the presence of excuses, whether it’s yours and/or theirs. In the worst of situations where you may be denying, rationalising, and minimising, you may even be making excuses for their excuses which only goes to show how poor the original excuse was. Just like how on the other side of a jumped boundary lies disrespect, on the other side of an excuse often not only lies at least some element of disrespect but also the real reason. An excuse is a reason that is given to justify an offence or fault but its primary purpose is to lessen responsibility by getting you to overlook, excuse, or even forgive off the back of it. This of course is rather tricky because when there’s excuses it means that any commitment is being lessened, which means …

Monique

BPD Voices Project: Monique’s Voice

From the BPD Voices Project: I am not sure who I am writing this to. Perhaps myself. Perhaps to you. Perhaps to no one at all. Everyone is moving on. The world is moving on. It turns and turns without me. Spinning on its axis as it has done for billions of years. I am drifting in the wake of my own big bang. I am stranded in time. I’m breathing what was long-ago and merely existing in the future. My body floats above everyone, and my insides hide away in a crevice of the past. I am smiling and hoping for everything to end. I am deleting history. I am handing out the last rose. I am lying in the sun, the white sheet beneath my burning body. I’m searching for someone who can fill the gaps. I find someone and dig a hole. I love someone, I dig deeper. I still love. I miss her in spite of myself. I hate her. I love her. I love and hate everything that she is, …