Leaving that closet

Came across a very well written and lovely article by Lauren McGrath. “Coming Out As Borderline”

This article depicts the stigma that BPD-ers encounter on a daily basis, be it online/movies/tv or even WITHIN the mental health profession. I have had the luck of having dealt with mental health care professionals that were NOT stigmatizing toward me or others. But many (!!!) of us out there have in fact not been so lucky.

Living with this illness is hard enough as it is, but constantly running into these walls and having to deal with a stigma, isn’t fun, to say the least. How is one to get the proper help if the professionals even run at the mention of BPD? Not all mental health professionals are like this, thank Goddess, but unfortunately there are still a lot of them out there.

My diagnosis was first brought up at the age of 12, I fought it with every fiber of my being, I didn’t want to hear anything about it. I was basically in proper denial. But as I grew older and went through so much fucking hell, I decided to do research of my own (thanks Google!) and that’s when it first hit me: it’s like someone wrote all of this research about ME.

This was the first step toward acknowledging what I had. Eventually I reached acceptance. Some might even say that I went through the entire Kübler-Ross 5 stages of grief . Step 5 was acceptance.
I am 27 years old now and whilst I still struggle with my BPD on a daily basis, I’ve come out. I came out of the BPD closet and I am not ashamed of who I am or what I have.


That moment when you can relate just a bit too much…

I knew that this moment would come, probably more than once too but damn, it’s still hitting a nerve.
Busy doing schoolwork and I just covered a part about the different attachment styles in babies/kids and how, if lacking a proper one, that it could basically fuck you up for the rest of your life. That shit is hitting too close to home. Fuck. I actually had to walk away from my pc for a minute, to remain calm.
This is going to happen quite often, considering that I’m studying psychology, gonna have to find a way to deal with this. Now I’m just wigging out cuz tomorrow we’re gonna be covering this in class as well. I can already see myself storming out of the classroom, very upset. Le sigh. Gonna try my best not to.
I lack a healthy attachment style. I have an attachment disorder (along side all of my other brilliant disorders) and it’s something that has made my life quite a living hell, to be honest. It’s not something that goes away overnight either. Fuck.
Here is to hoping that first hand experience is what makes super awesome psychologists?


ennui21So here I am, behind my desk, headphones on and ready to write. But I feel like I don’t even fucking know where to start. I just know that I have SO much to say, SO much to share but I just can’t seem to get it out right. Which is weird, because I’ve never had an issue with this. Le sigh.

Let’s see, where to start? At the risk of sounding like a fucking broken record: I am deeply miserable. I mean, this is the ledge and I’ve been standing on it for a while now. Lately even more so than usual. I genuinely just want it all to stop, I just want SILENCE. I want all of the thoughts to stop, to go away, to leave me the fuck alone. If you’re reading this right now there is a very big chance that you have BPD, like me. So you’ll understand it when I say that I can literally think myself into a super fucked up shitty mood. Crazy, right?

Oh I should also apologize in advance because something tells me that I am going to be all over the place with this post, jumping from one subject to the other. Haha, it’s funny because that how it feels like inside of my head. Total fucking chaos! lol.

On Youtube right now, trying to listen to some of those “feel good” songs, sing myself into a good mood? lol. It doesn’t always work though, especially when I suddenly find myself listening to Evanescence. But I digress.

It’s now 2016 and I am still not working. Been out of a job for 2 years now. Many people don’t understand how fucked up that is for someone like me. Someone that HAS to keep busy constantly, as a distraction, otherwise the thoughts come and they always lead to over analyzing and eventually feeling like total shit. And the fucked up part of it? I’m not fucking stupid. I’m no Einstein but I am far from stupid. Despite the fact that I feel like I have lost at least half of my brain cells from being unemployed. Let’s face it, the brain is a muscle and if you don’t use it, you lose it. That’s genuinely how I feel right now. Lord.

The best part of being unemployed? When people tell me to “just look for a job”. Oh I’m sorry, wow, why hadn’t I thought of that yet?! Fuck, I’ve been going at this completely wrong for the last 2 years! I totally forgot that I could walk into any office, grab the boss and FORCE him (or her) to give me a job. Silly me! And here I’ve been, unemployed for so long! Gah, I swear, when people say that shit to me I genuinely want to punch them in the face.

Then again, does a day go by where I don’t want to punch anyone in the face? Especially lately. Gah. Okay, maybe I need to make a list of topics that I want to cover and then devote a post to each one. Seems more organized, yes?

Okay, stay tuned my lovelies, I shall aspire to return shortly.



Semicolon Project 218

A semicolon represents a sentence that the author could have ended, but chose not to. The author is you and the sentence is your life.

The Semicolon Project started on April 16th 2013 and got shared a million times on social networking sites. People worldwide were drawing a semicolon on their wrists to show their support in the fight against suicide, self harm, depression, anxiety etc. People everywhere are trying to raise awareness about these issues by drawing semicolon’s on their wrist, posting pics of it and tagging it with #semicolonproject416.

It’s going to be “held” annually but I guess that someone out there decided to “hold” it a bit earlier this year, today, February 18th 2014. I applaud whoever decided this because to me it can (and should) be done every day of the year. So here is my contribution for today! Another one coming April 16th!

Draw, snap, post, tag and share people! #semicolonproject218





If you’re a Borderliner like myself, the odds of you having self harmed are pretty high. Let’s not pretend that you haven’t done it at least once, shall we?

I used to cut. I used to cut a lot and very deep. Even now, nearly 8 years later, you can still see and feel my scars.

In the winter of 2006 I got up one morning and told myself that I would stop cutting, that I would get out of the deep darkness that was my depression.

I (somehow) managed to do it. I became “stabley unstable”, as I like to put it. Was I “normal”? Was I “fixed”? Was I “happy”? No. But at least I was no longer cutting, smoking too much, mixing my prescription meds with alcohol or taking sleeping pills. Spoiler alert: I replaced cutting with the above, plus more, a while after I quit cutting. .

I kept this up for quite a while. I was going to school, I was working and I had my own place. Therapy, meds, all of it. I however slowly slipped back into just being “unstable”. But enough about this particular aspect of my life.

I may have stopped cutting but I was still self harming, albeit in different ways. I was all over the place. From being extremely impulsive to reckless spending, being promiscuous to being unsafe with my medication and alcohol. This was back when my meds still worked on me. To be honest with you: I can’t remember most of this period. It’s a mixture of 1) my brain blocking it out because it was somewhat traumatic and 2) I mixed a lot of my medication with alcohol. This all has created somewhat of a gaping hole in my memory. I don’t like thinking back to that time, I did many things that I am ashamed of and will most likely take to my grave. Hence number 1 and my brain blocking it out.

Fast forward a bit. I was 1 month shy of reaching my 5 year “cut free” anniversary but then I relapsed. It was a tiny cut but a cut none the less. I was so sad because it was almost my birthday and my Liberty (my doggy) wasn’t there with me, I was in Norway at the time. Mix in some of my regular depression issues, a dash of winter depression, a pinch of an identity crisis and I was good to go!

After I did it I felt like such a schmuck. I felt like the last 5 years all went in vain. But I went back on the wagon! Sadly I fell off once more on October 17th 2012 and once more just a month ago.

A part of me feels bad and another part of me is like: “So what? I’m not in a good place right now but I can’t afford to break down or process anything right now so what does it matter if I cut? Who am I hurting with it? If it helps me to cope, fine!”. I told my therapist the exact same thing. I also told her that I am not stupid and that I know that I shouldn’t be doing it in the first place.

But right now and for the past year I have been carrying the weight of the world, along with my own pain, on my shoulders. I put my own needs and desires aside for everyone and I do it without complaining, so who am I harming by cutting?

I guess you could say that this is my way of justifying it to myself, making excuses for it. But who bloody cares? I consider myself smart enough to know when enough is enough and when that time comes, I’ll stop.

For now it does me good, it helps me “feel better” to just put some music on and cut. I don’t feel any pain when I do it, I just feel relief. Like the pain pours out of me as I watch the blood trickle down my thigh…

It may not be the best solution but for now it seems better than letting go and letting it all out. Because a storm’s a brewin….

I should add the following message in case anyone is reading this: I am in no way telling anyone to self harm. This is my blog and I use it mostly to vent. I am in no way encouraging others to self harm!!!