Psyche is powered by Vocal creators. You support Emily Buehner by reading, sharing and tipping stories... more

Psyche is powered by Vocal.
Vocal is a platform that provides storytelling tools and engaged communities for writers, musicians, filmmakers, podcasters, and other creators to get discovered and fund their creativity.

How does Vocal work?
Creators share their stories on Vocal’s communities. In return, creators earn money when they are tipped and when their stories are read.

How do I join Vocal?
Vocal welcomes creators of all shapes and sizes. Join for free and start creating.

To learn more about Vocal, visit our resources.

Show less

Past the Borderline

Cut me open and tell me what's inside.

Ever since I was young I had the most difficult time when it came to making and keeping friends. I would always seem to lose friends and it would never last more than 4 years or less. I was forced to go to counseling when I was younger but to say that it helped at the time, I don't know if I could say. From waking up being angry at the world to going to bed hating myself and the world. "Why me?" I would always say to myself. Why was it me that got adopted, why is it me that always cries and gets in trouble for trying to having her emotions and feelings heard? Why why why??

I hate myself, I hate my life, I hate my friends, I hate my family! I hate the fact that I am adopted and that I can't be with my birth family back in Russia. Or that I could never do the same things that my two older brothers and older sister could do. Have parties back in the woods. Have friends over, have any friends period. When I started to feel this way more and more I didn't know what to do with myself or handle my emotions. I was crying too much. A cry that was calling out for help when everyone else thought it was all for attention, and part of it was for attention but attention that I was needing for comfort and assurance. I was angry and the more I cried the more angry I got because people weren't understanding my reasoning for it.

I later realized in life that the purpose for my anger was to release my feelings, I was trying to get my point across but it wasn't working. I used crying as a control method to get attention from my family, I also realize that I would use crying and anger to distract myself from the main reason as to my actions. To take my mind away from what was really bothering me and work myself up so much that I got so tired and would eventually fall asleep due to exhaustion, knowing that my body was under stress and tension causing my brain to send signals to my body telling myself I need to rest causing me to sleep. 

I think with anger comes trust. Trust is built in the smallest of moments. What is trust? Trust is choosing to make something vulnerable to you vulnerable to the actions of someone else. So when I would cry and get angry I was showing my vulnerable side to others so that they can can be vulnerable by their actions with me. I like to follow an acronym called B.R.A.V.I.N.G: Boundaries, Reliability, Accountability, Vault, Integrity, Non Judgmental, Generosity.

Now as an adult I set clear boundaries that I can hold and have others respect it. Reliability only comes in if you are trusted with what you say you are going to do more than once. Accountability is when I can share my faults with others and encourage them that it is a safe place to be vulnerable as well as building up relationships instead of tearing them apart. Vault would be what I am willing to share with others and trust they keep it confidential. Integrity is courage over comfort, to choose what is right over what is easy, right or fast. Non Judgmental is when I am able to fall apart and ask for help without being judged. Last one is generosity which is if I can assume the most generous thing about words, intentions, behaviors and then check in with myself.

Being angry one moment and being fine the next then back to depressed. The constant roller coaster of a night trying to sleep theses days. As soon as it's lights out, TV off, it all comes rushing back. The agonizing pain, the torture, the memories. The things I have loved, lost and now mourn each day. The punishment I put myself through by being selfish and only caring about myself and not what other people thought or what other people had to say, because if I did I wouldn't have gone through nearly as much shit as I have personally put myself through by not understanding the severity and not having any knowledge on my Boarder Line Diagnosis.

A lot of nights I fear sleep, I fear the fact of closing my eyes and years of tears rolling onto my pillow soaking it to the depths of the sea, to the roaring waves that come crashing in my head so hard that the migraines become almost normal to handle now. I toss and turn, I pout and get over it and tell myself over and over again "I will be OK". I make a tea, watch another couple episodes of Prison Break to get my mind at ease before trying to fall asleep again and it's a never ending cycle of fucking horror, back to square one basically.

It's like I can't win this battle, this constant struggle and reminder of the things I had to face with the justice system for years, the reminder that I'm now a criminal for defending the right to my dead birth mother, a reminder that this is just the beginning when it feels like I have already lived 80 years with what I have endured in my 23 years on earth. Why can't I get this torture out of my head. I am prescribed my max dose of medication for my depression but somehow the snake slithered its way back and found the open path saying, "All past shadows and memories welcome, fend for yourselves". NO!! Go away go away go away go away leave me to move on from all of this and let me live the life I have waiting for me, that God has paved the path for me to follow.

I have a shaky sense of identity yet, an outrage of anger in the utmost inappropriate times, I am one tear away from joining Niagara falls waterfall due to my extreme sensitive emotional ache and pain that is like burning flesh with no band aid to re-burn over and over again. I'm not even going to mention my love affairs, let's just skip that part due to a follow-up of intense feelings of deserted emptiness that seems to run for miles. Having to re-teach myself how to eat for one and two how to eat in front of others, still very very challenging for me. But not to top it all off with some would say justifiable other unjustifiable sense of abandonment. These are the developmental roots past the Borderline.

Now Reading
Past the Borderline
Read Next
How to Spot the Silent Killer