I only know black or white I don't know grey.
I always knew I was different. When I was younger I was constantly living between places, moving consistently. I remember always thinking that if something were to happen; I would know exactly where my special things were and I could fit them in a bag and go. My mom had me when she was 16 years old so I lived with my grandparents periodically. My biological father was into the drug scene and it was a danger for me to be affiliated with him as a child. My mom still tried to keep a connection but he would never follow through with plans. He shortly moved away after having a series of events fall in his footsteps. I remember living with my mom when I was 6 and moving away with her and her new boyfriend at the time which turned out to be my father figure to this day. I remember meeting new friends and then about a year later leaving everything behind again to move back to BC. I remember being so excited to be close to my Nana + Papa again and shortly to watch my mother tie the knot with my new dad. She was pregnant and that made me so excited to spend time with someone other than my stuffed animals and drawings. Her pregnancy was awful both times, I remember spending every minute with her on bed rest and trying to take care of her. I would fetch her ice all the time and set myself up in the living room with my craft table. We spent about 3 years together inseparable during this time. I remember she used to help me so much with class projects and help me make cakes for the cake walk. We had so much fun just her and I. We fought a lot during her second pregnancy which resulted in me moving back to my Nana’s. I remember this was when my family started the name “snowballing” for me. I remember going to school and talking to the counsellors telling them I needed a new home. I couldn't handle living with my mom and “dad.” Anymore. I remember using tac’s on my bedroom wall to scrape my arms and I would burn spoons on the element and burn my wrists. I remember reading about it in these Orca books I used to take out from the library. I remembered craving it would give me a release. My dad was very controlling during this time as my youngest sister was going in for speech therapy and testing. We found out she is Autistic during this period. All of the attention was on the grieving of it. Everyone was miserable. I remember my mom always saying she didn't care about the gender of the baby as long as it was healthy.. During this time we hadn't even heard of Autism and it was less common. It was as if my mom got diagnosed with cancer and was losing everything. This was when she practically became crazy. I remember watching her lose herself. She has never been the same. All those moments of baking cakes and being her little sidekick.. Well those were gone and we hated each other. At this point my grades were slipping and I wanted to kill myself all in grade 4. Towards high school I moved back in because my parents kept tempting me with new things and trying to please me to make me move back. They bought me a new tv and a bed set to encourage me to come home. I spent all of high school having these attacks where I would go from 0-100 and “snowball” - starting with something super small and all of a sudden I felt like I was losing everything. I made friends and lost them and I remember almost threatening them to stay my friend. I remember losing it sometimes when they wouldn't wanna spend time with me. I was scared they were gonna leave me.
My mom and dad split in grade. 9. This was the worst year. We had plans of moving to Mexico with my two sisters who were now both diagnosed with Autism. We were going to homeschool all of us because I was having such a hard time. Than next thing you know my parents pull me aside before I'm about to go hangout with my friend for the weekend. I thought they were gonna tell me that we were expecting another kid. But they said they were splitting and my mom was moving out. Within literally a week I was blasting “knock you down” and packing the family vehicle with my mom and I’s belongings. We left and moved downtown in the same town. We moved to a new condo and I remember crying every night. I had a routine. I would put on sad music and cry myself to sleep.
This was just part of my story.
Hi everyone, my name is Asia and I wanted to write and share my story about living with BPD. I know there is hardly any awareness out there about the mental illness- so I wanted to share my experience getting treated and diagnosed. I currently live on Vancouver Island and am 21 years old and if anybody wants to contact me personally about the illness or my experiences- even if you just need somebody to talk to you can follow my story on Instagram @aijmarie and contact me! Thank you.
Borderline personality disorder has been just about the hardest thing I've had to fight with everyday.
It feels like you are a burn victim who has burned over 90% of your body.
All of my emotions are extreme and I feel agony at the slightest touch or movement.
I felt like everyone else was okay and I was just crazy for feeling the way I did about things. My family called it "snowballing" when I would have my breakdowns. Meaning something small would happen and I would keep getting more and more upset and involved with the situation to the point where I have completely lost myself and became a big snowball instead of a piece of snow. I only recently got assessed. I kind of self diagnosed myself with being autistic because my sisters and I thought I was bipolar. Things would be so good and all of a sudden my whole world would absolutely blow up. I felt so unfair and I hated so many because I felt like nobody was experiencing the things I was. I felt blamed for everyone's problems and I felt selfish. All of my friends had always told me that things would be hard, like breakups and losing people. But when it came down to it - it was too hard. I honestly would go so crazy over it. I would lose myself completely as soon as I felt someone slipping away. This has happened my whole entire life until April.
When I lost myself.
April I actually went crazy. I lost myself completely and had everything ripped from me. I lost my entire world in that month. I had dealt with so much abuse and so much heartbreak over the years that when it finally all caught up I ran away. I took off, turned my phone off and convinced myself that nobody would care because really who would care ? In the moment I drove and I didn't stop. I got on a ferry to get away from this island that kept scaling me raw. I drove until I couldn't see the road and that's when I realized that I couldn't leave this world. No matter how many times I've gotten in my car and drove and haven't been able to see because I can't stop crying or screaming at the top of my lungs. No matter how many times I almost went off banks or in the ditch or trying to drive into the ocean I never ever was able to. It wasn't that I was scared of it or a coward it's just that no matter how many times I've tried to destroy myself it's never worked.
It's like somebody stayed when everybody left me and made sure I stayed safe.
Ever since those few days I was convinced that there was something more going on. I made my family acknowledge it and begged them to admit me to the hospital. I knew if I was alone again with my head I wouldn't be there. It was my last, last hope. When they decided it would be better to seek attention from my family doctor I was a bit upset to be honest. I wanted to be locked away for a year or more.. I didn't want to just be prescribed some medication and be put back on my feet. It's almost as if the 4th floor or a mental hospital would be so tempting because it was an escape to be with people who I could relate to. I felt I needed serious, serious help. But- they put me on anxiety meds and sent me to physco therapy classes. Including mindfulness, cognitive therapy and foundations of change. These classes were in a hospital and every time I went I just wanted to leave. The people in there were all alcoholics or drug addicts. Which I don't have a problem with but I couldn't relate. I quit everything my therapy, my classes and my doctor a few months ago. I've been just focusing on everything that's going good in my life instead of the bad. I'm the type that I get overly involved with my career to the point I don't take breaks or stop. Which is good but I'm trying to learn balance. Everyday is such a struggle especially since my psychosis has increased more and more. I wake up with the most horrible dreams and live in them for the rest of my days. I'm trying new things, stones, music, writing, working. Things that keep me busy and I'm learning to help me. I have stopped cutting which was a huge thing for me as that was my release and I have stopped trying to keep up with my past. The people I have in my life now I try to keep close so they won't leave. I still think everyday that they will but I have to believe that things happen for reasons and timing. It's such a struggle living with borderline but I encourage anybody reading this that you can do this. With help or on your own. I know I felt like I didn't have anybody at one point but there is always somebody. Love is a huge thing for us and I learned that loving the world and loving yourself is going to be what gets you through everyday.
You can't hate the world for the way it's changed you and hurt you.
All you can do is love it for the way you can learn from it and become an amazing person. Borderline isn't the worst thing in the world either, we love so much. We care so much. We are the most sympathetic people. It makes us a rare breed in a heartless world. Keep building up your skin readers, you will recover. Just your beautiful scars will make you remember your still here you're a person.