The Sleeping Monster

Depression is a deep part of my struggle. It's not even consious depression. It's this thing that comes over me every so often. It wraps it's arms around me and drags me under like an anaconda does to it's prey.

I don't want to do anything. I don't want to make choices, nor do I want them made for me. It's like the kid whos room is packed with toys, a stack of art supplies, a shelf of books, and has a back yard with a tree house in it, but has "nothing to do." There's no motivation.

Sometimes there's a profound sense of sadness and loss with no real reason. It feels like there's a constant lump in my throat. I'm on the verge of tears yet swallowing them down. Most days, when tears threaten, I can push them down. But when this things take hold of me, my mind lets loose all these emotions and memories and the crying starts. It's not just tears falling it's uncontrolable sobbing. This would happen almost daily before I was on medication.

It used to be that i would sit around and sigh when I was depressed. Or throw myself into so much I didn't have time to think about things. When depression did catch up with me, I would snack. If I had to do something, I didn't put much into it. I would cut to try to get endorphines. Even just the light scratches would snap me out because of the rush of adreneline at having to keep it a secret. The constant fear of someone finding out, gave a burst of energy.

Lately I sleep. I don't eat or write or read. I don't shower. I even will ignore taking my medicine. I just sleep. I say I'm fine. I even believe it at times. I might get up to go to the bathroom or do a chore that has to be done but mostly I sleep. I will eat a little, but nothing like what I would normally eat. I just plain don't "feel" good.

Most of the time no one notices anything except that i'm sleepy. I might not even recognize it as depression. I'll say i'm fine and really believe that until I get that rush of endorphines. When that happens, it's like the sleeping monster gets kicked and decides to step back. Laying under that monster is me. I've been squished and repressed by it. But once is leaves, I'm ready to live again.

An Anger Problem

When I was in my early teens, I had become quite perverted in my thinking and speaking. I was quick with a comeback or a put-down.

That was before I became a Christian. I was into death and "trippiness" often feeling that I should have been born a hippy. I made my skin pale and wore all black before there were Goths in my town. I was pretty strange in general, but I had decided not to use drugs, drink, or have sex anymore.

One day I decided to work on my swearing. I would only say "damn." At the same time I decided I would approach things with an innocent clean mind. I also stopped being mean to those I picked on and decided to let myself trust people.

At the time I was into the occult. I was learning about Wicca and Paganism. I was also in the early stages of self-injury. I was thought to be depressed and suicidal. I was seeing the school counselor, but I hadn't been diagnosed as far as I knew.

All this worked out pretty well and my friends as well as teachers and classmates noticed the change. I was teased at times and called "gullible." I even loaned money to people I never saw again fully believing they would pay me back. I became equated with the ditzy blonde in the jokes going around at the time.

I had mastered addiction. I had mastered lust. I wasn't truly afraid of anything. I had changed myself and opened myself to experience life through new eyes. But for all the accomplishments and self-development, there was one thing I could only have limited control over. Anger. I had made myself not ticklish after being tickled to the point of not being able to breathe one day. I could turn off most pain or quickly get it under control. I would play the happy girl with no troubles and let things roll off my back. But eventually the pressure would build and like Vesuvius, I'd explode destroying everything in my path.

One thing I would never do is hurt a living thing. I knew I was physically strong and based on what I'd done to objects I took my aggression out on, I knew I could seriously hurt a person if I let myself.

Anger and sadness are the things that made life miserable. They were always there, always connected.

I'd get angry at messing up. I'd become sad that I messed up. I'd hurt myself in depression. Get mad that I hurt myself. Do something destructive and feel sad that I messed up. It was a Cycle. It wasn't until recently I learned I had Borderline Personality Disorder (which is not the same as Bi-Polar Disorder or Other Dissociative disorders).

Anger is still the hardest thing for me to master. I get so worked up and don't have anywhere to put it. I used to run, but I can't anymore due to and accident in 1996. Anger used to come out in self-injury but that is dangerous. Now I write or talk or do some wood working to calm myself down.

Admittedly there are still times when I explode, but they are fewer and farther between and they are not quite the magnitude they once were.

"The Razor's Edge"

I often say it's like walking a razor's edge. Sanity and insanity. Real or not. Why a razor's edge? Unlike walking a fence where it's either one side or the other, a razor can split you. With BPD you can find yourself divided between the two sides and not always in half.

What I mean isn't an ethereal or deeply philosophical thing. It's simply that the mind blurs the realms together. A borderline often experiences dissociation or "Missing time." Caught in a day dream while taking notes in a class, you don't realize you had drifted off until the bell rings or the people around you are gathering their things.

It's sort of like this... Many people have postulated that the thing we experience as life, is really the dream of another. Sometimes the Borderline goes so far as to actually believe they are unreal. The postulation becomes their reality . They don't realize they are real. They wonder why they can't feel some things and why other things are felt so intensely. Am I real? Is what they ask themselves daily. They wake from sleep and wonder if it's one of those dreams that they keep thinking they are awake only to find it another dream. (This is one of the reasons for self-injury. If you can feel it you are real or the pinch that wakes you from a dream.)

It's like a radio station fading in and out. You're in reality, you're not. You're lucidly sane, you ponder that your universe is just a marble in a game in a much bigger picture imagined. You're an actor in a role, then you become that character and your self becomes distorted. You become the very thing you've pretended to be and now you can't find yourself.

"...borderline between what and what?!" Girl Interrupted

This is a question I've often asked myself. I have borderline personality disorder. So what am I on the border of? I guess I've thought of it in several different ways. The one I use most to explain my disorder to others is a paraphrase of what a psychologist told me.

Borderline between sane and insane.

Being borderline for me is like walking a razor's edge of sane or insane. Jim Carey said it well in one of his comedy acts. "The difference between sanity and insanity is... ...saying 'yes' to the wrong impulse." For me, it's not that I consciencely choose to do something that tips me one way or another. It's more like this; A sane person knows they are sane. An insane person doesn't know they are not sane. A borderline knows something is wrong but may not be able to put a finger on it.

The trouble is because borderlines have unstable moods, unstable self-image and unstable relationships, they are often misdiagnosed.

There is no cure for the disorder, only therapy which may include medication for depression or anxiety but mainly consists of dialectic behavior therapy. (Learning to say "no" to the "...wrong impulse.")

Instability in relationships as well as moods and self-image. Clinging to people when I am sad or depressed of feeling inadequate. Afriad they will leave me and trying to please them. Then feeling on top of the world and confidant depending upon which way you lean at that given moment.

A wonderful day could be ruined by just a small thing that causes me to react in the over emotional borderline way. Hyperness, anger, sadness, love. It's all extreme. There is no medium, no norm with a borderline.

So what am I borderline between? I have yet to find a clear answer to that.