Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Another day that isn't yesterday
I recently had a comment on one of my earlier posts from A.Chocobo inquiring as to whether or not I had advice, because they believe they might be Borderline, as well.
Quizzes online can open doors to ideas we’d yet to come across, but that’s it--it’s all ideas, and general ones at that. Ultimately, we are the only ones who truly know our experiences and the effects they have on us. I can describe the pain of my five-year self backwards and forwards, but no one else will ever feel the exact repercussions. But you know your pain. And perhaps you’ve let that pain consume you.
That is where our downfall lies--when we allow our EXPERIENCES overcome us, consume us. We have these unique experiences that are labeled “borderline”, and we relinquish control of our future experiences by giving our past experiences power in the present. Borderline is not who we are, but what we have gone through and how we let it affect us. Borderline means something different to all of us. And so I urge you all to join in and write about what Borderline means in your life, and post a link to your writing here so we can all get through this together.
For me, it’s the aching and yearning of my five-year old self. It’s the darkness she experiences, the isolation and confusion she felt from a mother who projected her self-hatred onto her daughter. It’s the fear of her mother being right--the fear of being an inherently bad, disgusting person. For me it’s the slap across my face, a slap so hard that my nose bled. For me it’s wanting to run away from everyone who knows me so I can run away from myself. For me BPD is the desire to be accepted, the need for validation I never received.
BPD is not who we are, but merely a name for, and a means of categorizing, our past experiences.
What gets me through is focusing on what I have control over and ONLY what I have control over. I DO NOT have control over my past--and what’s wonderful is that the past is over. I do not have control over how others act. But I do have control over how I act. I do have control over allowing BPD to consume me. I do have control over separating my experiences in my childhood from the world I’m experiencing in the present. And it’s hard. I struggle every single day.
I’ve wanted to run away from my job for a long time. But I stick it out. I deal with others and I deal with myself and force myself to be the person I want to be. And then, after an incredible day where I’ve made remarkable progress, I get in my car and cry. I allow myself to feel the pain. Because it’s okay. And then I get up the next morning stronger, ready for another day that isn’t yesterday.