They sometimes call my diagnosis the “kiss of death” of psychological disorders. It can appear co-morbidly with other mood or psychological disorders (like my MDD, GAD, & PTSD). People with the disorder fall into holes of addiction, average at least three suicide attempts in their lifetime, and are resistant to many typical treatments. People like me are often seen as selfish, manipulative monsters and we are expected to live our lives constantly seeming unstable, impulsive, and without any real friendships.
I love intensely, though. I feel, I empathize, I care. My words are genuine and true; when I make promises, I keep them. That, as a friend mentioned earlier today, is a benefit of a borderline.
Sometimes our impulsivity can be seen as a curse, pushing us to make rash decisions without thinking before acting. When someone is in need, though, I help without hesitation. I don’t consider potential loss of sleep, the financial cost, or any impact it might have on me because, well, those things don’t matter as much as helping someone in need. Nothing matters more than the happiness of others.
Sometimes I cling to people and do some outrageous things to attempt to avoid abandonment, causing me to seem needy or attention-seeking.
I know the feeling of loneliness far too well, though, so I am fiercely loyal and loving.
But, I don’t care about others’ flaws or mistakes; I don’t care about anything but making sure that nobody ever has to feel the coldness of being alone.
My emotions are intense and constantly changing, meaning I appear unstable and unpredictable, it’s true. It also means, though, that I can easily feel the emotions of those around me, tapping into them and walking their emotional road with them. It means I can relate, understand, feel an empathy that most others will never come close to touching.
I tend to feel empty and unsure of myself, which seriously can be the worst. It also means that I’m flexible. I’m constantly seeking new adventures, that I push myself to continuously improve. I also seek to fill myself up by connecting to others, which allows me to forge relationships and be a friend to anyone who needs.
I’m easily angered, but that also makes me passionate.
Thoughts of death consume me, but that makes me appreciate life. I struggle to really trust, but that allows me to understand when others have this same struggle.
Sometimes it can be beneficial to remember that there is truth in everything, that every coin has two sides. There are many moments (i.e. most) where I hate who I am. It is important to remember, though, that there are aspects of myself and my illness that do make me better, that are beneficial.