Today I saw something that really hit me hard. If you google, “What is the most painful mental illness?”, “borderline personality disorder” is the answer.  Although I know the pain, I experience trying not to succumb to the intense emotions that overcome me through each day, to see it acknowledged lead to some mixed emotions.

I wish there were a simulator of some kind to help people understand the hell that is this disorder. Remember the most painful time in your life, death of a loved one or lost love, whatever that may be. Try to recapture that moment of intense pain and suffering. Now, remember when you were the angriest you have ever been and now the most elated moment. Now, imagine experiencing your emotions that intensely daily. To say this is exhausting is a grave understatement.

Splitting is something that is common among BDP folks such as me. It is extreme black and white thinking. If you hurt me, you are dead to me. If I am your friend, I will ride and die for you. There are no casual acquaintances. You are either for me or you are against me. This develops because of the lack of protection during childhood and the many traumas the wired our brains incorrectly.

This is something that only we can fix as adults with intense classes and self-reflection, self-correction. We must try to re-wire years of abuse and neglect. There are days (many of them) that I do not want to put that work in. I honestly want to just drive and keep driving. Start life over by myself where I do not have to worry about hurting anyone or about being hurt by anyone.  I feel stuck in someone else’s life, my nightmare that I can not seem to wake up from.

Last time I tried to attend church the pastor shared about the four soils, one seed feel by the wayside, one on stony soil, one on thorny soil, and a fourth the good soil. If you are not familiar with this parable, feel free to read it in Matthew chapter 13. I used to think I was the good soil where the seed sprouted and came to full harvest. But listening that Sunday, I realized that I was more likely to be the third type of soil mentioned, the thorny soil. The weeds overtook what was planted. This make sense to me because I cannot connect with God through all this pain and chaos that lives in me. Worship music breaks my heart. Am I to sing about freedom and healing? For others, yes, I am sure that is true for them. It once was true for me, but it feels like more of a phase.

Many with BDP struggle to find their own identity and often become like those who they spend the most time with. We have no solid ground to stand on as our mind is confused and can not be trusted. Although I thought I had found myself with God, the healing, strength, and peace I once possessed is gone. So how can I believe His is still with me, for me, loves me? This disorder does not line up with any of those things. Especially when I continue to experience trauma regularly.

You can all continue to pray for me, for my family. I am sure that it can not hurt but I cannot pretend to have hope that it will make any difference.