Living With BPD

Borderline Personality Disorder is an exceedingly serious mental illness characterized by pervasive instability in moods, interpersonal relationships, self-image, self-identity, dissociation, and behavior. Borderline Personality Disorder is much more common in young women suffering from child sex abuse or another trauma. BPD comes with a high rate of substance abuse problems, sexual deviancy, self-injury, & suicide.

[bpd-with-ptsd]

Hopeless. Darkened. Suicidal rage.

[bpd-with-ptsd]

Emotional rock bottom was yet again hit this Monday past as a breakdown with a violent rage of flashbacks and misery took control over me. Afraid of who I was becoming I knew nothing, I was numb completely within without the use of substances such as I loved at years end. No longer, alone, did I have a desire to live. Lonely, forgotten, mourning myself. The plan was coming together in my head, knowledgeable as to the way I wish to go; nothing left to keep me here. As the hours passed into the night I screamed for help but those screams were muted with the events that happened. Intoxicated, I was fully exposed to the elements of misunderstanding as a call for help ended with Lifesprings admission prior to spending nearly ten-hours in jail. Arrested for assault, a charge I didn't commit yet being wrongly convicted is my stressful future. The agony was relentless, never did I believe I would be put under arrest; in handcuffs, read my rights, and threw crying for my death to begin in the back of a police car. It was after forty minutes of detainment that I came clean, when in private, to the officer that I was numbed and had plans to end my life without desire to continue. Although I was already under arrest and thought I was only confessing suicidal desire due to my future in jail. Instead I was taken to the hospital and released, then taken to ascertain psych evaluation. It was there I was taken back to the hospital following the judge signing off on my orders to be placed in a mental health facility. Cuffed. I knew at that moment when I was released, if I was released I would find the way I had imagined to kill myself and no longer be on this earth. Such admission was part of a three day stay were I obtained that I needed to see past the depression and know of places in which I would get needed medical treatment and therapy. Day by day I understood myself more and more as the social worker gave me a book to read on my BPD diagnoses and intense therapy backed with medication. She thanked me for opening up and speaking the truth, requesting help. Yet in the back of my mind I knew what I would face following discharge on Friday, after being kept an additional day due to suicidal intent and my past history. Then I went to jail, where my mental state weakened and again I cycled to having no hope other then the knowledge I would die; only in a matter of days and by my own hand. Wanting. I craved. I could taste my own sacrifice.

[bpd-with-ptsd]

[bpd-with-ptsd]

Wake up. Break up. Move on.

[bpd-with-ptsd]

Seemingly my days are getting harder in that I am no longer able to push myself to move forward and go on. I'm not sure what is wrong, be it a physical problem or related to that of a mental struggle. I have lost all interest in the things that I once held high with enjoyment. My body feels an extreme fatigue, no muscle tone, where only the smallest amount of walking wears me out. In addition I haven't slipped out of the state of unhappiness in which I appeared to acknowledge self hatred and isolation. I no longer want to be here nor do I wish to live in such emotional mayhem, I feel as if I haven't been to escape such a nightmare. Life at current is an emotional nightmare indeed.. Yet, is such problem more physical then it is mental? I just wish I knew the answer. However, my luck is that such will not be so easy nor will there be a quick fix; perhaps, never will I be fixed. Until I'm dead.

[bpd-with-ptsd]

It was a dear friend of mine who told me to act upon something only after giving 24-hours, especially if it's life changing choice or decision. Yesterday, my mind was made up exceptionally without regret, no longer do I want Brian nor can I allow Brian to have such a depressing negative impact upon my life as he has since walking away. I suppose you live and you learn, however, I want nothing to do with such a wilted and devastated relationship that was probably a mistake in the making. I'm no longer happy and I can say that without a doubt as well as admit never was I happy but only forcing myself such happiness with him. This is my choice to his overall mistake.

[bpd-with-ptsd]

[bpd-with-ptsd]

I cannot help but wonder how much I have left to break me, before I fully shatter into pieces that cannot be mended. --With so many tears recently shed, I fear it's coming quickly.

[bpd-with-ptsd]

No longer do I choose to be in a relationship where my trust has been broken. A relationship were communication is active. I must look towards my future and start a new beginning. It was I who made multiple attempts to hang on and him who wasn't pulling his weight. That is not what a relationship is about and no longer with him am I happy. It must be done.

[bpd-with-ptsd]

[bpd-with-ptsd]

With each minute that passes I grow more livid, more frustrated, more bound and determined to give up. I should have listened to Carol with regards to my phone and allowing Brian the chance to screw with it, she did warn me. I now understand why she started to open up to me about Brian and all he attempts to do with manipulative malice. I cannot even make a call, text, or see my applications much less use one; an attempt leads to error. What he did I had no understanding of and no idea how I should fix it. He knew what my phone meant to me, the significance the day I purchased the phone; 5 months tomorrow I will be clean. It's as if he challenged such and disrespected my trust by setting me up with programs that he knew had issues yet wanted to keep me running back to insure a place in my life as his aunt warned.

[bpd-with-ptsd]

It feels so wonderful to once again be apart of such mental tryst --and to be swaddled with my purpose found within an old friend

[bpd-with-ptsd]

As the hours count down tomorrow will mark the sixth week of limited to no contact with Brian, a man who promised he would always be there for me. I'm broken, far to broken, with regards to his absence. Seemingly all was okay our relationship was being built on a platform we were both actively building, nothing occurred so to highlight that a problem loomed. In fact he told me only that he loved me, then weeks past in which absolutely no communication we had. It's as if he fell off the face of this Earth. No explaining, without reason. Self reflecting upon the broken heart and soul I'm unsure how much longer I can go on without contact from a man who I thought would be in my future forever. A relationship is not just 50/50 but 100/100 and while each day I attempt to make contact he does nothing. Brian has ceased giving any as I go on trying to save that in which we had a future. No more do I think I can go forth needing a man to be there but seeing the truth in what his aunt had told me in secret. I will not be that in what is convenient to him, a relationship is much about love; love is not isolation or ignorance. I've made the choice though communicating with friends who have turned me to such self reflections and believe it to be the best to say it cannot be due to such disappointment. It is because of this, in which I did not ask for, that has left me crazy leading to the breakdown this weekend. With clarity I know that Brian and his behavior stands in my way of what once was a path and passage of a brand now beginning. I wanted nothing but to have his positivity with me for days forth, I cannot allow him and his isolation and pity party actions to threaten all that I have done and all I need to do for myself.

[bpd-with-ptsd]

Another day has come and gone as the sun sets with pristine silence, once again I find myself alone. The river it beckons to me, calls that in which have grown into louder pleas; finding the waterfall in White Mills nearly impossible now to ignore. Consideration strengthens as I ponder my secret spot, my place; the only place providing me calming tranquility. Again, my thoughts pure mayhem. So far gone I have once again mentally numbed myself in such a way I cannot sort out all in which burdens me. Only known by the nightmares that have me awaking in fright, terror, afraid to close my eyes and go back to sleep. I need beyond anything to get to my secret spot, to attempt to salvage myself; I am fearful knowing what could be if I do not. Death could be in the wake, as such mayhem of tussled emotions destroy my mind; I must find peace if I do wish to more forth again.

[bpd-with-ptsd]

[bpd-with-ptsd]

Throughout such darkness of depression, an unbalanced healthy sleep pattern continues. A nightmare, night by night, known as insomnia has interrupted a sleep pattern retained. Awoken to misery, begging from body for a numbness I once knew, curled within a fetal position tears seeped from closed eyes. Crying, whimpering. Physical mayhem, nightmarish torment, that of chronic pain within the gastrointestinal track had broken my sleep leading to a unvoiced wish of death. Worsening throughout the day, unresponsive of narcotic pain medication, such pain felt prior to daybreak continued well into middle afternoon. Still felt well within late evening, returning of my misery, if such if the only life I have to live I choose that of death. --Please release me from my misery, I choose to have no part of this...

[bpd-with-ptsd]

No longer do I wish to be within a world I no longer belong. --Suicide provides an allowance to finally be set free. I cannot live like this anymore, I just don't know what to do.