I hate being so moody!!!
I am a crabby apple today. I guess this wouldn’t be so bad if there were an actual REASON for being a crabby apple!! I just get in these moods at times I guess. I don’t understand it, and to be perfectly honest, I wish it would go away.
I have dealt with borderline personality disorder for years now. If I had to say when I GOT the disorder, I would think it was around 15, when I first started cutting I guess. I had all the other symptoms of it I guess, but the cutting is what really threw it over the edge.
I was not in therapy at the time, I didn’t first enter professional therapy until perhaps a year or so later, at 16. Late in my 16th year. I didn’t get diagnosed with the disorder until I was 20.
My first diagnosis was depression, just give her anti-depressants and she will be fine. My first therapist sent me off a year later to college saying I would be fine. She listed me as not in need of therapy anymore.
I guess if you don’t SPEAK to your therapists… they don’t really KNOW whats going on. What a silly thought.
My secondary diagnosis was PTSD, stemming from the abuse I endured from the time I was nine until my fourteenth birthday. Abuse I endured from my cousin. I wish I could say he is an evil being, but this just isn’t true. He isn’t inherently evil, just messed up in the head. He was in a car accident when he was two, and hasn’t been ‘normal’ since. He just doesn’t have the brain capacity to understand that what he did was wrong.
At least this is how its always explained to me. He didn’t have the brain capacity.
Doesn’t make me any less f^*ked up because of it.
Oh well, I learned to deal with it, just as I learned to deal with just about everything else that’s been handed my way.
I got the diagnosis of borderline at 20 years old, when I was landed in a day treatment program in a psychiatric hospital after threatening to kill myself. Whew, I’m just spilling it all today. I will never forget that day… the day I handed a note to my boss explaining I wasn’t going to be at work for two weeks… because I was going to the hospital. “why?” “whats going on, are you ok? Why do you have to go to the hospital?”
Oh yeah, I am fine, just crazy thats all.
And for the first time, something in my life made sense. Borderline Personality Disorder. Finally! Finally someone was telling me something that I had know a long long time.
I was one screwed up individual.
And I finally had a name to put to it, BPD.
After that I read every book I could find on the subject, everything I could read, everything I could discover that might help me get through this. For everything that I am, I have always been a fighter.
I met my current therapist there too, thank god for that. Very few things in my life have ever gone smoothly, but finding my therapist, and finding my biological mother were among the two easiest.
After that, life hasn’t been a pancake, in fact, going through therapy has been probably even harder than living with myself the way I was. The thing is, I knew I COULDN’T live with myself the way I was. I knew I wouldn’t survive it.
Finding out I had BPD gave me hope, it gave me hope because while it is one of the most difficult mental illnesses to treat, it is treatable, curable if you will.
Only there is no magic cure, there is no ‘maintenece’ to being borderline, no medications that can fix the symptoms. Just a whole hell of a lot of hard work.
And I have worked hard, very hard. Gone places I never wanted to go, spoke things that I never wanted to speak.
Learning to live with BPD is like learning to live all over again, starting from the beginning.
You have to learn new coping mechanisms, you have to learn new relationship strategies. You have to learn, basically, how to be a normally functioning adult. Because with BPD, thats one of the biggest things that’s missing, that whole normally functioning thing.
Granted, even at my worst, I was always high functioning. I held a job, I lived on my own. I had relationships, crazy messed up relationships, but relationships none the less.
Things have changed so much. So much that sometimes it is scary to me. So much that when these little tail ends of the BPD still get to me, its frustrating. Its frustrating to no end.
This moodiness is frustrating to no end. When there is so much else going on in your life its hard to see being moody for what it really is. When you spend every day swinging from one extreme to the other, its hard to see the forrest through the trees.
Now I see the forrest, and the trees. I see my life, and I see myself. I guess thats where the frustration comes in. I wish I could kick the last of this thing. Its like that last 10 pounds you just can’t lose, or the last flecks of dirt you just CAN’T get in the dustpan.
Perhaps it is just something I am always going to have to deal with. Perhaps it will fade as time goes on, or I will learn to deal with it more.
Perhaps its just because this whole adoption/reunion thing really kicked up a LOT of those little flecks of dirt that don’t want to go in the dustpan. However, this whole adoption/reunion was like that last step for me. I NEEDED to get through this so I could move on. I needed to meet her so I could find myself. So its hard for me to know if that’s all the rest of this is, the final bit, or some kicked up dirt.
Perhaps it is just me. I am not sure.
Whatever it is, you can bet I will learn to deal with it.