Ripped to Shreds

I suddenly feel it sinking in, the sadness overcoming every cell in my body; my insides tightening in agony. It’s sudden and uncontrollable. Unwanted but freely handled to me like a death sentence. This is not how I wanted it to end.

I am undone, lost and cold; endlessly wandering. I feel dead inside. No fire ever warm enough or candle burned bright enough could make it go away. There is a calming sensation that envelops me, numbing every emotion and feeling in my body.

The adrenaline coursing through my veins makes me want to scream; shaking in anger and hurt. Thoughts roaring in my ears, pressure on my chest, the sinking feeling. What an emotional wreck I am. Over nothing too. I ALWAYS overreact and end up regretting it EVERY SINGLE TIME. I hate myself for this. Life should not be this difficult. I literally have meltdown after meltdown just waiting for this crap to end.

I stare out into the depths of nothingness, letting my eyes unfocused and blur my surroundings until they turn black. I feel the lump in my throat begin to rise and the tears well up in my eyes. They trickle down my cheeks in heated sorrow, down towards my chin and beyond. I continue to shake in anger and hurt.

—————————————————————————————————————————————–

That’s what an “episode” looks like. An episode of Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). I was diagnosed with this disorder recently; really recently actually. I kept telling myself that I didn’t have a personality disorder and that I was just fine. Guess I was wrong; really wrong actually.

The funny thing about this is that I don’t even know how to control these episodes. I literally could walk by a building and then fall apart because the building was a trigger for something that rips me apart. Crazy, I know but that’s just how it is. That may have been a bad example but you get the idea. Well, at least I hope you do…

Having BPD has been challenging, to say the least. I say challenging because any other word I may use to reference the experience will not be a nice one. I could express to you the intense hate I have towards my own mental illnesses but unfortunately those are not the exact things I’m angry at. What I’m angry at, or rather, who I’m angry at, is me. I’m angry at myself.

I’m angry at myself for not being able to be strong enough mentally emotionally and physically to withstand my mental illnesses. I’m angry at myself for not having the self-control over my impulses. I’m angry at myself for giving in and giving up. I’m angry at myself for letting myself go. I’m angry at myself for pushing people that I love away. I’m angry at myself for being me.

All this anger I have doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t know where it came from or why it has to overcome my life like this. I don’t like being angry all the time. I don’t know what to do with this anger. I let it bottle up inside me and then when it becomes too much for me, I explode and the anger pours out of me like lava, leaving my body shaking and destroyed.

I want to help myself, I really do. But these barriers that keep tripping me are making it so much more difficult than it looks or sounds. I mean, it’s recovery. RECOVERY. Think about it. Recovering from a mental illness, or in my case, multiple mental illnesses. Sounds easy, looks easy, but is it really that easy? HELL NO.

If you struggle with BPD, Social Anxiety Disorder, Binge-eating Disorder, Depression, or any other mental illness at all, please know that I feel for you. I feel your pain. I am right there with you on the front lines fighting to stay alive. I understand. It’s tough to even breathe some days and I know what that’s like. I am with you.

This journey we are on, the journey called life, is a tough one. I’m the first to admit that I don’t like the way life has knocked me down far too many times. It’s been a really big struggle for me to pick myself up after each fall and continue on with life. Having my body be ripped to shreds on the inside has been painful and exhausting.

What I want to express to you is that you may call me motivational, inspirational, or even a saviour when it comes to my writing and what I do or say. But to be completely honest? I’m scared. I have no clue what I am doing or how I will feel in 5 minutes. I can’t make plans too far ahead of time for fear of not being able to commit to them.

I am just like you, struggling to survive, taking things one minute at a time, not being able to breathe most of the time. I struggle and suffer with you. You can call me inspirational because of what I have overcome, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I still have so much further to go.

My recovery has just begun, and I am embarking on a long journey. I may seem like I am doing okay some days and other days I will fall apart. I have come to accept this, although I struggle with the acceptance sometimes. It’s an uphill battle for me most days.

I hope I can motivate you all to begin your recovery if that’s what you are in need of, but that choice is not up to me. It is up to you. Your own recovery is important for your own health and no one else’s. Do not let anyone force you into recovery and do not force yourself into it. You must be willing to accept yourself for who you are and welcome your recovery into your life. That is the only way it will work.

-E

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