Living with BPD

I’ve struggled with my mental health for as long as I can remember. I have always realised that I was “different” from everyone else but couldn’t quite work out why. As a child, I didn’t follow the crowd, I did my own thing, and that suited me just fine. I was bullied severely throughout primary school which damaged me more than I originally thought. I had a “Day Dreamer Chart” at school because I was never able to keep focused.

An Intro to My Life and What I Believe Caused My BPD:

My mum and dad divorced when I was four years old. It wasn’t exactly the nicest or most civil of break-ups, but hey—that’s life. For a while, my dad still lived with us in our two-bedroom flat. He had the living room as his “area” and my mum had the bedroom—everything else was communal. I can vividly recall being asked every evening, “Whose room are you eating in tonight, Leia?” and never knowing what answer to give... I was torn between the two of them and that filled me with a lot of guilt. Eventually my dad moved in with another woman—who I hated with a passion—but that fizzled out after a number of months and subsequently, he became homeless for 18 months.

My dad tried to kill himself a number of times when my mum announced that she wanted a divorce. This hurt me so much because as a four-year-old, this confused and worried me—you don’t usually understand that sort of stuff when you’re four. Things were very rocky after my dad got back on his feet and secured himself a one-bedroom flat. I didn’t see him that often and he wasn’t allowed to pick me up from school or see me without permission. I missed out on a lot of Christmas memories and birthday memories too. There were a lot of broken promises and arguments that I’ll never forget.

Fast forward seven years—I’m now 11 years old and my mum’s now in a new marriage with a man. He lived in a rural part of Hampshire with a big house and lots of nice, materialistic things. About two years into their relationship, he sexually assaulted me after getting too drunk to realise what he was doing. When my mum confronted him about it, he kicked off with such a rage and smashed the house to pieces. Things were pretty much brushed under the carpet and only came to the police’s attention just before my 15th birthday. By this point, they had divorced and we had moved into a new home in Winchester.

The First Suicide Attempt:

I was 15 years old when I tried to take my own life for the first time. For about six months prior to this, I had been self-harming and drinking a lot. My mum was on a date with someone at the time of the attempt. All I really remember is sitting there...alone in my room clasping three or four boxes of paracetamol with tears running down my red cheeks. I’d already written a suicide note and stuffed it under the laptop in the living room. Once I’d taken the tablets, I drank some more alcohol and closed my eyes. The next thing I know, I have my neighbour's face right up against mine; she was panicking and shouting, “Leia... Leia wake up! Can you hear me? Open your eyes!” When I did eventually muster the strength to open my eyes, I could see my mum stood there too, in tears. God, that shattered my heart. I only stayed in the hospital overnight for observation and when I got home, things felt so strained and awkward between me and my mum. I had this overwhelming sense of guilt and shame in what I’d done, but I had no way of stopping the suicidal urges. Almost as quickly as those thoughts came, I suddenly started acting extremely hyperactive—to the point where it was dangerous for myself and those around me. I couldn’t make sense of what the hell was going on, but all I knew was that I needed to be stopped before I did something super dumb.

My Rollercoaster Ride with Secondary School:

I initially went to a secondary school in a rural part of Hampshire, but when we moved to Winchester, I started going to The Westgate School. I was a relatively well-behaved child—except for my first week of year 7 when I decided to drink pretty much a whole bottle of vodka in school and got insanely drunk—and subsequently excluded. In year 10 I made friends with a group of girls who ended up becoming my absolute world. I’d do anything for them. The thing is, you see, when we were all together we behaved like absolute idiots. We would bunk from lessons, leave school, smoke, do class A drugs in the school toilets, start fights... We were a nightmare. I think I started off doing the drugs to fit in and then from there it just became routine to do it with them and I ended up enjoying it more than I thought. The drugs numbed me from my own toxic thoughts of suicide and self-mutilation; they levelled me out...temporarily. I’d come home from school on a comedown and my mum suffered the arse end of this. We’d physically fight, argue, I’d steal from her, and I know it broke her into a million pieces. I still haven’t forgiven myself for that. I had these demonic voices plaguing my mind—telling me to do awful things to myself and those around me. I could barely look at myself in the mirror without wanting to melt into the ground and scream. I ended up self-harming every single day, until one night when it all got too much and I made the choice again—I wanted to end my life. I waited patiently for my mum to go to bed and fall into a deep sleep, and then at around 2:30 AM I crept into the kitchen and grabbed two boxes of iron supplement tablets. I took the whole contents of both bottles and just sat there...waiting. This is the thing with BPD, your mind, mood and thoughts change at the drop of a hat and within 30 minutes I was scared and didn’t want to end my life anymore. I was in such a rage and messaged my friend because I didn’t know what to do. She called an ambulance without me knowing and by the time they turned up, my mind had changed again and I wanted to die. I ended up having paramedics and police in the house with me and my mum came out with glassy, red eyes... The look of disbelief on her face engulfed my whole world. I was taken to hospital again and fixed up, the doctor told me that I was lucky to be alive... I felt the complete opposite.

CAMHS:

CAMHS (Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services) were put in place to try and help me. I’d have weekly meetings with my psychiatrist and we’d talk about my whole life... I’d always have new self-harm cuts all over me and would usually be on a comedown or hungover. I hated myself, I hated my life, I hated my mum, dad, teachers, friends...and I couldn’t work out why. No one could understand why one minute I’d be completely fine and then the next minute I’d be flipping out, smashing things, smacking my head into windows and walls...cutting myself. No one could pinpoint the triggers. My mum just thought it was a phase that I’d soon grow out of, and I really did want to believe her but I knew that wasn’t the case. CAMHS never diagnosed me with anything which was difficult for me and my school because that didn’t give us anything to work with. I ended up having my school timetable shortened to take the strain off me a little bit—but nothing helped. Just before my 3rd GCSE exam, my best friend, Shaun, tragically took his own life. My world shattered right around me, nothing felt real. I felt so guilty, I couldn’t contain my feelings. He had called me less than 24 hours before he died and said he felt depressed, but I wasn’t able to be there for him as long as I wanted because I was revising. I felt like such an awful human—I felt like a murderer. Ever since then, I’ve never let go of that guilt.

In the Last Two Years:

In the last two years, things have been very up and down. I was discharged from CAMHS just before I turned 16 years old. I went through my first year of college with only a few self-harm blips...but the anger was still there, lurking. I would go MAD at anything and everything, if someone gave me even the slightest “wrong look” then I would go crazy at them. I was constantly getting sent out of lessons and my attendance dropped to about 75%. My second year of college, my attendance dropped even lower—57%. I had no motivation for anything. I had no love for myself or what I wanted to do. I despised myself, wishing I was thinner and prettier and able to do makeup better and to be smarter, etc. I just wanted to be like the other college girls...but I’d always be different. I still left college with kind of good grades—in my Media Diploma I got a Distinction Star and in my Health & Social Care Diploma, I got a Distinction.

My First “Proper” Job:

I landed myself a good job at Southampton General Hospital’s A&E Department working as a Healthcare Assistant. It was such a busy and forever changing working environment, but I did genuinely love it. I learned so many valuable things; I made some amazing friends too. However, my mental health wasn’t able to keep up, and unfortunately, it spiralled to the point where I tried to self-harm at work and went home and tried to kill myself again. Work was made aware of my struggles and suggested that I self-referred to Desborough House—a mental health team for adults. They didn’t really help at first, but when they offered me the chance to be diagnosed—if there was anything to diagnose—that took a massive weight off my shoulders. I had the meeting with my Care Coordinator and doctor, which was quite intimidating but I knew I had to do it. I was in there for nearly two hours and at the end of it, I remember the doctor saying those three letters—BPD. Everything went into slow motion; I knew exactly what BPD was because I had dealt with patients in A&E who had it. I broke out into a flood of uncontrollable tears—was it relief or fear? I still don’t know. How are you supposed to deal with the stigma of a personality disorder? I didn’t want to be labelled as a psycho! He referred me to an Emotional Coping Skills Group—what a load of bollocks that was. I didn’t find it helpful at all; if anything it just made me feel more shame in my illness. I’ve now resorted to just seeing my doctor and Care Coordinator every two weeks to talk about things, and my own therapy includes driving, warm bubble baths, and spending time with the people that I love.

Living with BPD:

You feel things so much more intensely than others; one minute I love you and the next minute I hate you. I’ll tell you to leave but in the same breath, I’ll tell you to stay. Happy, sad, angry, and neutral are not a thing... It’s hyper, suicidal, violence/aggression, or numb. It’s mentally and physically draining. How do I explain to people how I am feeling? One little thing could happen—let’s say I accidentally cut someone up on a roundabout—that’ll either trigger intense suicidal thoughts or an intense, dangerous rage. Keeping up with myself is a 24/7 thing; my brain NEVER shuts off. I’m paranoid, obsessive, and I overcomplicate things every day...but I’m still here, breathing, and riding the waves as they come. My boyfriend, Jamie, is brilliant with me. The other day I was home alone and fell into a massive suicidal rage and cut my leg up and smashed up the house. It’s the voices that make me do it...and there’s not much I can do about it. He was there within 10 minutes and calmed me down, took me out of the house, and let me blow off some steam. He is so patient with me—which is difficult for him as he has ADHD, but he still does it perfectly.

I am utterly blessed to have the people I love around me. My mother is my biggest inspiration and I love her more than she will ever realise. She may not 100% understand my mental illness, but that doesn’t stop her from looking out for her crazy, unpredictable, self-sabotaging daughter. BPD doesn’t mean you can’t have a quality of life; it doesn’t mean you can’t have fun or have a joke with people. It doesn’t mean I’m a bad person or a burden. I am me, not my BPD. If you look close enough, you’ll see that people with BPD are just a little bit broken from their past, we’re still worthy of love and compassion.

Below I have listed common symptoms of BPD. If you or someone you know could potentially be suffering without answers, please get them or yourself help.

Symptoms:

• Irrational behaviour or actions

• Implusive behaviour or actions

• Extreme fear of abandonment

• Manipulative behaviour

• Sudden and extreme mood changes

• Intense and often unstable relationships with others

UsefulLinks

https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/borderline-personality-disorder/symptoms/

https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/types-of-mental-health-problems/borderline-personality-disorder-bpd/#.WvaOORbTWEc

Take care, and thank you for reading xx