Naming The Monster

Hi. My name is Bree. I have Borderline Personality Disorder.

Obviously, Borderline Personality Disorder or BPD is a mental health illness. But, if you aren’t familiar with it, I will explain.

According to the diagnostic manual used in psychology the definition is “A pervasive (present everywhere) pattern of instability of interpersonal relationships, self-image, and affects (influences), and marked impulsivity beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated by five (or more) of the following:

1. Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment.” This means that if I get even the slightest thought from paranoia or anything else, or I feel in any way that you don’t care about me, I will start pushing you away, creating problems that may not really be problems at all, and looking for excuses and reasons to run before you can.

Scenario: You are out running some errands. You happen to stop at the local coffee spot and you see two of your mutual friends sitting at a table and talking.

Normal Brain: “Oh, cool! My friends are here. Let me stop over and say hi.

BPD Brain: “My friends are here without me? Why didn’t they tell me they were coming here? They don’t really like me. They only tolerate me. They don’t want me around because they secretly hate me. Well, I’m gonna show them! If they don’t like me, I’ll just stop talking to them.”

 “2. A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation.” This is more commonly known as ‘splitting’. It is a form of black and white thinking where we see people or situations as either all good or all bad. No gray in between.

Example: In my relationships, when I am close to someone, it takes merely a stray thought to cause me to begin splitting. When I was with The Predator, on the whole, yes…horrible guy. But understand that he was not beating and raping me every day. We had days like any other couple that were just regular interactions and completely normal. He would get up and go to work. I would stay home and take care of the house and kids. So, say on one of these regular days, I was maybe having a bad day. The kids were extra difficult, or the lines were long when I ran errands.

Normal Brain (yes, I understand a normal brain would not have stayed and put up with the bigger issues in this relationship. Just go with me here): “I am having a tough day. I hope my partner's day is going better.”

BPD Brain: “Damn it! This is taking too damn long. I have other things I need to do before I get home. Then I have to make dinner because HE won’t make dinner. I have to do EVERYTHING around that house. He is so damn lazy. He leaves his shit EVERYWHERE! I don’t know why I bother to clean that house at all. No one appreciates me at all. Why did I marry that LOSER! My mother was right. I hate it when she’s right! He is such a fucking ASSHOLE! I know he does it on purpose. I want a divorce. I HATE HIM.” 

And later that day when he gets home… “He looks so tired. He worked so hard all day in this heat. He is such a good man to do that for his family. I really lucked out with him. Sure we have our issues, but he has such a good heart. There is no one better than him really. He is an amazing man. I’m so glad I married him. I love him so much. I don’t think anyone can love someone as much as I love him.”

“3. Identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self image or sense of self.” This one here is a big reason that BPD people are considered manipulative. We somehow go from thinking we are the shit to thinking we are a piece of shit in mere seconds flat. So quickly, in fact, that it’s like we are simultaneously thinking (and believing) BOTH. When the truth of the matter is that we don’t really know who we are at all. When a person has someone in their lives that ignores them constantly or hurts them if they don’t behave a certain way or judges them harshly…whatever the case…they naturally learn to stop or avoid that painful action from their loved one. They do that by becoming hyper-aware of people's emotions and feelings, reading body language, intently watching and listening to EVERYTHING someone is saying…or not saying. Reading between the lines and making inferences. We learn to chameleon ourselves into whatever we need to be in order to be accepted. To keep that person from leaving (abandoning) us. To make that person pay attention to us. To keep that person from hurting us. But, by doing so, we become so attuned to what we think others want from us and being or doing that thing, that we never learn how to figure out or know what WE want. What WE like. What WE think. Because we are CONSTANTLY trying to make people stay and make others happy. It’s really just self preservation. 

Example: When I met The Predator, my hobbies consisted of reading (because it let me escape my loneliness and life and travel in my mind to another world), watching TV (my favorite shows were ones from my childhood because they allowed me to remember a time when I was happy), and listening to music (I was listening to country music – because it was my dad’s favorite and it made me feel like, if I ever found him again, that he might like me more and stay in my life because we had this thing in common, and *80’s/90’s music – because it was from my teen years and, like the TV shows, reminded me of a simpler time in my life). When he asked me the first time we hung out what kind of music I liked, the first thing I did was assess him - long hair down to the middle of his back, long chain on his wallet, Pantera tee shirt - Metal head. Then I told him that I liked a variety of music and went through phases in my tastes. I said that currently, I was listening to country, but I also enjoyed rock music, like AC/DC. That wasn’t a lie. I did not misrepresent myself. I did like listening to 80’s hair bands and other rock music that I remembered my brother listening to while we were growing up. However, I did not actively seek to listen to that type of music. I didn’t have a problem with it, but it wasn’t a preference. It was more like I was used to it. Some people will read this situation and say that I manipulated him by inferring that I liked the same type of music as him. But to me, at that moment, all I was thinking was “Please like me. How do I get you to like me? Please don’t reject me.” And in reality, I did grow to really enjoy that type of music. He introduced me to most of what are now my favorite bands. And I even branched out on my own and began exploring other bands in that genre that he had never heard of or listened to, and I introduced HIM to some. By the time the end came around for him and me, there were some bands/artists that we had in common and some we didn’t but all from the same type of genre. And I also still adore 80’s/90’s music and some country.

Similar to the above explained situation, when I meet new people, my BPD brain immediately kicks in and starts asking, “How do we get them to like us? How do we get them to stay?” So, my process kind of begins like an interview. I begin asking them about themselves. Psychologically speaking, people love talking about themselves, and it’s natural to the process of getting to know someone to ask them questions. I’ve found though, that one of the best ways to get to know someone is by revealing parts of yourself. The information you get back is far more personal. I analyze each piece of information I get back. Look at it from multiple angles. Read between the lines. Listen for meaning and tone. Watch micro expressions and reactions and body language. By doing such, I am able to learn them and given enough time, predict them. All of this happens instantaneously in my brain…and I don’t even notice it happening usually while I’m doing it. 

 “4. Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating).” This is a big one for me personally. I have impulsivity problems in all of those areas. My finances are a shambled mess, I have slept with many men just because it felt right in that moment only to regret it afterward, I vape nicotine and cannot live without caffeine, I have been in more than 10 car accidents…before I was 30 and have had well more than my fair share of speeding tickets and continue to speed…, and my relationship with sugar and carbs is abysmal to the point that I am pre-diabetic and it is on my medical chart that I am “Morbidly Obese”. Enough said on this. It’s not something I’m proud of and I do actively strive to resist the impulses when they come.

“5. Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or selfmutilating behavior.” My suicidal behavior is what ultimately got me the help I needed. It got me my diagnosis. A diagnosis that I should have had for probably more than a decade before I got it. I struggle with this one. Currently, I am stable as far as this is concerned. One thing I have learned through my therapy is that it’s important to have goals and things to look forward to. When I don’t have a goal, I feel like I have no purpose. And when I feel like I have no purpose, I start to feel worthless. And that leads to my determining phrase, “Everyone would just be better off without me.” That’s my danger sign. That is my red alert zone. If that thought enters my head, it’s time to go to the hospital. Period.

“6. Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria (state of unease or generalized dissatisfaction with life), irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days).” This is just facts. I have been told that my dissatisfaction with life, my irritablity…that it’s just too negative. Not everyone can handle me because of this. I have lost many because of this. I do work to control it, but I find that I am easily irritated. And again, it’s second nature. It happens so quickly I don’t even realize it until it’s too late.

“7. Chronic feelings of emptiness.” Chronic. Every second of every day. And nothing fills the void. Not sex. Not food. Not friends. Not family (especially my family). Not money. Not a job. Nothing. And we all know this. But that doesn’t keep us from looking for something…and trying to fill that emptiness with all of that stuff.

“8. Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights).” I don’t even know what to say about this one. It’s embarrassing. Sometimes childish. But nonetheless true. It’s got a hair trigger. Ready to boil over at any moment, and sometimes over the smallest and most insignificant things. There are certain people that bring this out in me more. And a few that actually quell it, quite nicely.

“9. Transient (lasting only for a short time; impermanent), stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms.” Like the time I thought that my mother was gonna kill me, or the way that sometimes I think that total strangers are following me, or the way my brain immediately jumps to the conclusion that someone actually hates me and is only talking to me to gain information and give it to people that want to control me or do me harm at the slightest inference of rejection or disagreement.

Individually, these 9 symptoms are terrible. to live with Now, remember what it said in the beginning of the definition. In order to be diagnosed as BPD, you have to have a MINIMUM of five of these symptoms going on at the SAME TIME. When I was first diagnosed, I had all nine. They aren’t the same in everyone with BPD. One person might have 1,2,5,8,9 and the next might have 1-4, and 7. Another thing to point out and remember with this, is that they can be fluid. I might have six of them presenting one day and eight of them presenting another, and only five of them presenting yet another. 

It’s a tricky illness to have. Something they don’t mention in that definition, but is most certainly true about it, is that all of your emotions are amplified. You don’t just get mad about something. You get enraged. You don’t just feel a little disappointed. You bawl your eyes out and start thinking you’ll never be happy again. You don’t just feel happy. You feel so euphoric that you might shit a rainbow. Feeling emotions this intensely is painful. It’s like having 3rd degree burns all over your body. It makes you vulnerable. And it leaves you raw and drained and exhausted. 

I’m not the type of person to put sprinkles on a turd and call it a brownie. So, I’m gonna be frank about this next part. Having uncontrolled BPD sucks. It’s ignorant. But, the road to stability sucks too. Maybe a little more than not being stable. Because on the road to stability…our healing journey…part of that road is going to therapy. If you have a therapist worth their salt at all, that therapist recommends you go to something called Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) which is group therapy where you learn about BPD and do exercises to explore yourself and your emotions. You learn coping skills for the symptoms. And you continue your individual therapy as well, where you are exploring your trauma and discovering all of the whys and hows. Which sounds great, right? I mean, for someone looking to get better, learning why you are this way and how it is affecting you and what you can do to “lessen the blows” that it deals sounds fantastic. 

Well, it is…until you realize that “lessening the blows” isn’t a solution. It doesn’t stop it from happening time and time again. From taking over your brain. From seeping into your relationships. From ruining your life.

 Knowing that my mother made me this way because her own unhealed trauma made her a narcissist, doesn’t make me less likely to self sabotage a new romantic relationship because I’m afraid he’s gonna lose interest in me and bolt. It doesn’t stop me from feeling the unending emptiness. It doesn’t keep me from exploding on her verbally at the slightest sign of disrespect or contempt. I still do all of those things. But now I know why. 

I guess what I’m saying is, knowing the hows and whys doesn’t stop it. It’s ongoing. And it feels even shittier when you are presenting BPD symptoms thinking that you have shit under control and then you stop and think about what just happened and you’re like “Fuck! I was reacting to triggered filters! Do I really feel that way?” or “Holy shit! I don’t really feel the way that I just told them I did because at that moment I was feeling like I didn’t want them to reject me, but now I realize that I don’t really want anything to do with them.” Being able to see what you did wrong in the aftermath, but NOT being able to see yourself doing it or stop yourself from doing it in the moment, is bullshit. Because what good does it really do you to be able to analyze what you already fucking did?

 Personally, it makes me embarrassed. It makes me feel like shit. I am a good person with a good heart. I am kind, compassionate and respectful. I don’t go around intentionally hurting, manipulating, or misleading people. But, because of my BPD, I have hurt, misled, and manipulated many people. It does not make me feel good to know that. I do not go to bed at night laughing about all of the hearts I have broken and feelings I have hurt. I am not an evil person. 

But from the point of view of the people whom I have done these things to…you better believe I am. And that makes me feel like maybe living in ignorance and just being a full on lunatic would have been better. I mean at least then, I would actually have earned the names I’m positive they call(ed) me.

I’m gonna end on this: In layman’s terms, BPD is a series of learned reactionary traits due to being exposed to (usually) repeated trauma. It’s neural pathways that have been formed in your brain. The same way that you learned to dress yourself or brush your teeth. But here is my “Ray of Hope”. If you can learn it, you can unlearn it. 

When I was a little girl, learning how to dress myself, I would sometimes forget that the underwear (aptly named, I learned) actually went under the pants. But soon, I learned. UNDERwear. And now it’s nothing but a humorous memory. A simple and childish mistake that I used to make because I didn’t know any better. But when you know better, you do better. 

My goal is to make my BPD just like that underwear story. A simple and childish mistake that I USED to make until I knew better. There is no cure for BPD. BUT! and this is a big ol’ but…it can go into remission. You can make it go dormant. And, by God, if it’s the last thing I do, I am going to achieve that goal. Or die trying.

 Literally.