Borderline Personality Disorder isnât being cute and âclingyâ and âadorably needyâ. Being with (romantic or otherwise) someone with BPD isnât akin to taking care of a pet. BPD isnât an âaw itâs so endearing that they need me so badlyâ type of thing.
BPD is a mental illness that is a conglomeration of several different tendencies and itâs not easy to diagnose. You donât just decide you have it, just like you donât decide youâre depressed because you had a bad day, or you donât decide youâre bipolar because your mood changes quickly sometimes. Believe me, you donât want it.
BPD is turning nothing into everything, is knowing youâre being irrational and not being able to stop regardless, is suppressing breakdowns for fear of being abusive or of manipulating the person youâre talking to into having to take care of you when they really donât want to.
Itâs thinking someone doesnât care about you anymore because they made a new friend. Itâs automatically registering new people as a threat. Itâs a fear of abandonment and rejection thatâs damn near omnipresent. Itâs being able to shift from âI love you so much!â to âI donât give a fuck, I hate you, I donât even want to talk to youâ and back at the drop of a hat.
Itâs finding identity in a drastic hair change, and then feeling unsafe and desperately trying to fix it before you have to go out. Itâs seeing someone you adore and trying to emulate them because you have no idea who you are. Itâs waking up and trying to be a new person every day. Go vegan, go goth, go hipster, go glamour, cut your hair, change your makeup, gain weight, lose weight, and never feel quite there. Ever.
Itâs comprehending âloveâ as âpityâ and wanting to rip yourself apart if their tone is all too casual when your friend or love interest is returning compliments or affection. Itâs regretting saying anything about your mood and desperately trying to turn the conversation around while simultaneously NEEDING to get it out. Itâs wanting to bleed yourself dry as opposed to cry in someoneâs arms because, at least then, they donât have to clean your wounds for you. They wonât hate you. They wonât be annoyed.
Itâs the constant battle, every time you get upset, of, âIs this worth being sad about? Is it worth talking about? What is more abusive, talking about this or hiding it? If I tell them Iâll bring them down and Iâll guilt trip them and they will resent me and it will all be my fault. If I donât, Iâm a disgusting liar, Iâm manipulative, Iâm untrustworthy.â
Itâs wondering if youâre faking your symptoms. Itâs disassociating and feeling like a ghost for days. Itâs feeling like you arenât real, and then wishing you werenât. Itâs fear, a lack of self, and about a million different thoughts running through your head at all times. Itâs trying to live for the people you love as opposed to yourself. Itâs feeling suicidal and then feeling bad for feeling suicidal because, whoops, youâre being manipulative.
yousharknotpass
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turnnoffyourmind
