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Blog For Mental Health 2015
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Yesterday, I was messaged by a couple of Facebook friends. They were both having a very difficult time. I provided some support and felt good doing it. The only reason I want more Facebook Likes is because I want to spread awareness of Borderline Personality Disorder and help eliminate stigma. It’s so unknown, and what people think they know about it is so far from the truth.
There are many sites out there providing support for the “victims” of us Borderline Monsters, but not as many for us Borderlines. I’d love to change that. We need to support each other. There are some out there if you know where to look. If you check my Facebook Page, you’ll see many Pages I’ve shared. You can also look under other Pages I’ve “Liked”.
To those who messaged me yesterday, if you are reading this, I hope you are having a much better day than yesterday. I am always there if you just need to vent, I can listen. I’m a great listener. Huge hugs to anyone needing them today. Have a great day,
By Dominic Sisti, PhD
There is an excellent chart in this article:
Excellent comment to a very stigmatizing article / blog post:
***POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING!*** for the article replied to.
So many books, articles and blogs are very damaging to Borderlines. They have tips on things like how to “train your Borderline.” I’m not kidding! Here is a passage from one such book:
One analogy I have used around this issue is: “My H is really a good, law-abiding person. It’s just that every once in a while he robs a bank. But really, deep down inside, he is a good, law-abiding person.”
So, we’re all bank-robbers? Seriously? Not only that, apparently we’re all sociopaths/psychopaths too. Just check out these articles:
I’d love to know what your thoughts are on this. Please comment below:
I feel so different from other people. Not just a little different, like some people. Different as in “I’m the last of my species that’s about to die out” different. I feel so absolutely, positively ALONE. Alone in the universe. Like on Star Trek: The Next Generation, when Capt. Picard discovered that “time capsule” from a world that had died out. That alone.
No one understands. To feel so alone and misunderstood is HELL!
But then you hear rumours about others like you, and you begin your quest to find them. You HAVE TO find them. You are compelled to find them. You search everywhere and, just as you’re about to give up hope, YOU FIND THEM!
They begin to describe their lives and it sounds exactly the same as what you’ve been going through. For the first time in your life, SOMEONE UNDERSTANDS! You feel tears of happiness streaming down your cheeks for the first time ever.
YOU ARE NO LONGER ALONE!
I think I’m a pretty empathic person. But how would I know, asks Clare Allan
Last Tuesday, I met with my counsellor and my mother-in-law to try to help her understand my BPD. We had a very good talk and I think she’s finally beginning to understand it a bit more. I tried to explain to her how she was unintentionally invalidating me constantly. She told me that she wasn’t saying anything bad to me. I explained to her that it doesn’t matter what she says or how she says it, that to someone with BPD, especially with me, it always feels like criticising and that I’m not good enough. She asked what she could do to make it better and I told her “nothing. Just do your own thing. You can’t make this go away. I’m the only one who can help me.” She got a look on her face like she finally “got it.” Also kind of sad for me.
My counsellor thought that I was very articulate, and told my mother-in-law that I’m doing everything I need to be doing to keep myself as well as I can be. I’m seeing both of them again this Tuesday. It’s good practice for me for running a group or presentation on BPD to educate people on the disorder. I’m learning more about myself every day.
I was so exhausted afterwards that I had to lay down for an hour. People don’t realize how exhausting it is for those of us with BPD just managing our emotions every day. It just comes to them naturally.
I’ll keep you posted on how it goes Tuesday. Till then,
National Education Alliance for Borderline Personality Disorder
A Blog for Advancing the BPD Agenda
I’m always saying to my husband “I was gonna do that, but…” And then he says “You were gonna…You were gonna…But you never do it. You always have excuses.” I always feel so many emotions all at the same time when this happens. The first and main thing is the feeling of “I’m not good enough.” I also feel guilt, shame, overwhelmed, anxiety, frustrated, misunderstood and depression.
Does anyone else go through this? How do you handle it?
Do you ever feel not listened to? I have ever since I was a kid. I’m always treated like a two-year-old by my husband and mother-in-law. I always feel like it’s amazing I’m alive today because I must be the stupidest person on Earth. Too dumb to live. Dumber than dirt. Like if it was raining outside, I’d been to dumb to come in out of the rain, and I’d catch pneumonia and die.
I need validation and understanding, especially from my mother-in-law. But she keeps doing the same things over and over, even though I’ve told her a million times that it makes me feel worse instead of better. I don’t need to be reminded of every little thing I need to do every minute of the day. I just get overwhelmed and paralyzed. My brain stops working logically. I have to distract myself to feel better. Then I’m not getting anything done around the house. Then I get told I’m not doing anything around here. If she would just listen to me, this vicious circle could be avoided. I guess she would rather be right than to have me do anything around here, or else she would stop.
All she sees is me sitting at the computer all day, every day. Or else I go to the peer support centre downtown for the morning and afternoon, to get a break from her. Which usually helps a little bit. Until I get home. Then I have to listen to it all over again. She doesn’t see what goes on in my head.
I dread getting up in the morning, knowing I’m gonna have to deal with my son and daughter, and my mother-in-law. I dread getting home from the peer support centre or my parents’ house, because I know it’s back to the same old thing, all over again. And she wonders why I feel so bad all the time, and why I can never get anything done around here.
She keeps saying that maybe I need a new therapist or a new medication. No, I just need her to LEAVE ME ALONE! If she’d do that, I’d feel a lot better.
Please see these posts:
Why do people think that bitching at you constantly is helpful? It’s the exact opposite of helpful, but they just don’t get it. You try to tell them, but…
I feel like a trapped and attacked wounded animal. What does an animal do when it is trapped? Defend itself or retreat. People with BPD feel extremely intense emotions – primal, instinctive emotions – not logical – instantaneous.
I feel a little like I did when I was agoraphobic. I feel trapped – in heaven and hell at the same time. My “office area” where my desk is squished into a corner of our “sitting room” taking up too much space. I am just in the way. I don’t deserve my own space. It’s like I don’t even deserve space for thoughts in my brain, I am unworthy of them. I wish people knew how it felt when they treat me this way. There’s no way they can possibly understand what I have to endure every day, in my head and also out there in the world.
My little “office area” feels like a dungeon. It should be my safe haven. Sometimes the only safe place is in your head. But then, most of the time, that’s not safe either.
Does anyone understand how this feels? Or am I the only one who feels this way? Please comment.
By Becky Oberg of More Than Borderline. In honor of BPD Awareness Month, this is what BPD feels like for me, from the point of view of a person with BPD – as seen by mental health professionals, by others and yourself.
More Than Borderline’s Becky Oberg shares with us her view on what she wishes people understood about mental illness.
Becky Oberg talks about how BPD patients are unfairly treated, even by professionals.
I’ve been asking for proper therapy for ages. So why is it that doctors, instead of trying to get to the real root of the problem, just prescribe you with more and more drugs?
Don’t get me wrong, I have ‘seen people’ over the years. My first experience was when I was nine years old – I remember the psychologist asking me what I wanted most in the world and I said ‘a horse’. I don’t think I ever saw him again.
The second time was in this dingy building in the hospital that I swear stank of instant mashed potato. I saw some woman who was old and posh; I don’t think she was a qualified psychologist, she just asked me very basic questions about my friendships. I insisted that my parents stayed in the room with me and therefore I never truly opened up.
The final time I…
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“The challenge we all face is how to integrate after loss or conflict and return to a greater wholeness of self. This is accomplished through social supports, coping, and other resources. This we call the process of emotional healing…” – from People Can Recover From Mental Illness, an article by Daniel Fisher, M.D., Ph.D. and Laurie Ahern
When it comes to mental illness what can I say that has not already been said? Not that it matters. Maybe it does. I don’t know. All I know is that I have it and so do others – others like me, who are stigmatized by the ignorance of those who don’t have it; by those who have it but don’t know it; by those who have it but act like they don’t.
How can one understand an experience if they can’t experience it first hand? I don’t believe they can. Intellectually…
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Such a powerful statement, right? It’s pretty strong.
I hate the way I look.
I hate my weight.
I hate my personality.
I hate BPD.
I hate my high’s and lows.
I hate my extreme’s.
I hate not being able to relate.
I hate caring too much.
I hate being able to detach so easily.
I hate being able to attach so easily.
I’m just not happy with myself.
See, the issue with me telling anyone this, is that they don’t understand. They don’t understand what it’s like to actually hate yourself. They’d say, “You’re beautiful!” “Your weight is fine!” and then start thinking that I’m just craving attention or just fishing for compliments. I’m not.
It hurts. I can’t even begin to tell you. I’m just so disgusted with myself. I coloured my arm this morning because of that. Just pure hate towards myself. E-mailed my therapist, regarding our next appointment, and let…
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