Posts Tagged ‘healing’

…Is the knowing that there is no cure , no medication, nor merely a bandaid to put over my furiously rampant monster of illnesses.

I’ve gotten to this point , slowly but steadily. A bumpy and painful decent.

Despair doesn’t always come across in conversation, but it does sit on the back burner in view.

Reading a memoir of journal entries by a courageous man with borderline personality , addiction issues, and major depression is comforting , yet it also triggers the thought that yes, I may struggle for the rest of my life.

In addition, I have a handful more that I’m lucky enough to call part of me, so I’m definitely a goner. Right ?

I am not one to count my illnesses as if it’s a game or a competition, but I can’t help but think .. “I have double the diagnosis as this poor guy. “How am I still alive? ”

And what for? To shun all my friends only to share seemingly random pictures and blogs?

To create some art that stems from the abstract and unusual thinking of my broken mind ?

Well, I guess for now it’s something.

I’ve begun recording every day-my thoughts, emotions, situations, successes and also failures.

I have a recorder on my phone , plenty of space on both of my cameras to make videos ,two ongoing journals ( one for my mental illnesses, and one to record tarot readings of my own and of other readers )

Is my purpose simply to show that one can survive excruciating agony and still be in awe of a new leaf on a plant I started from seed? Or to deeply enjoy such things as a birds song , or the thriving vegan movement I’ve been cheering for for 3 years ?

There is such a dichotomy to my mind. Such confusion and different choices to make over a seemingly mundane tasks. Like, which side of the table should this plant go on?

My illnesses can seem to melt together and actually become me , speak for me , BE me -or , I can sometimes find a slight hole to peek out from and shine for a moment or two.

But one thing is for sure , I never , ever have a full day of consistent mood , thoughts, or actions. I just don’t grasp what that’s like , sadly.

( later that day..)

As I slammed my door with tears streaming from the echoes of my doctors subtle yet clear voice to use what I have learned to ” cope”, the thoughts of driving into the river , or screaming for help in the middle of a parking lot appeared as if they’d been next in line anyway.

I refuted these impulses and grabbed my go to medicine. “Harm reduction”, I thought to myself , well knowing I was lying .

I came home and shut myself in, turned on my go-to , depressing Radiohead station, and with a haunting familiarity, lay motionless on my bed as if to mimic being in the coffin I already felt that I was in.

But then, almost to my chagrin, I decided to think of how loved ones may perceive this. Probably with worry. No, most definitely.

Dbt decided to come into play without my permission, but I granted it just to see…

Then, my day turned around.

Maybe there is hope. Strategy , a distraction strong enough to grab my spinning emotions and have them spill out until it’s just me and my core feeling. Ready to grasp onto even the tiniest of spoken belief that there is always hope.

All this to say, if one person who you love and loves you -despite what you perceive as your innate ” flaws”, can see through the fog to a beautifully talented , inspiring and not so difficult to be around source of joy , then – maybe there is reason to stick around til the crowds clear and everyone is gone. What’s the harm ?

Having cleansed my overflowing volcano of of a heart with tears attached to many different emotions , I feel at ease. Dare I say , content.

What a phenomenon . Maybe I wouldn’t be so lucky if dealt another’s hand. Okay, that’s enough positivity for one blog.

Remember to send love, and kindness if only through your energy to those who need it. You really never know how much they may be on the edge and that love could be the hand that helps them down.


Note : I will edit this tomorrow, so I apologize to the sticklers for any spelling or grammatical errors.


What a gorgeous day all around. I woke with the sunrise (455), got up, sat outside with my garden and incense , and began improving my vegetable garden.

I felt good. No need to mood boosters or the fight to destroy mood drops. It’s actually easier than taking a pill. If you focus hard enough on your goals and what you love, you can escape the trap of chaos and begin to step into your power

I did a tarot reading, with a high spirit and glee. Funny enough, my cards reflected ending my old way of life, and following my new path to happiness. A complete change is just what I needed.

With this change , which began on the full moon May 29th, I felt a strong need to be assertive and stand my ground with people like my old landlord ( long story), or people who have kept me wrapped up in anxiety and disrespecting me . Leo’s aren’t fond of that. I’m not fond of things that are morally wrong ( not at all saying I haven’t gone down that path), and just bask in the guidance that I’ve been given the gift of feeling with my entire self.

I spent a lot of time with my parents , and really using my dbt without noticing , except for that there have been zero fights since I moved back closer to them. I cherish my family. I CAN move past my upbringing.

I know my strengths , and I will use them, without the noise of doubt or repeating old cycles.

I really feel like I have gained self respect, and let go of ideals and things that I once held dear.

It really is a huge shift and the universe is propelling me into my next chapter. I hope I remember this feeling tomorrow.

I can only hope my upcoming PMDD won’t suck me back into the pits and darkness of my mental illnesses.

However , I’ve done it a thousand times and survived. So, I will be confident that I will again.

Thanks for reading ,

Your borderline gal,



It’s one of those eye opening times for me.

You see , I had a traumatic experience back in The winter which left me with zero desire to chase, date, be with sexually ,or pine after anyone. I mean anyone. Funny how something that I was not so long ago addicted to, means absolutely squat to me now.

To the point where if we talk for half a day and the convo is just dropped, I really don’t flinch. Somehow , I stopped caring. I don’t want that anymore.

I feel no need whatsoever to get wrapped up in a ball of sadness, madness, increased symptoms , crying, raging, memories, self destroying , etc- over attaining love.

And for us, as previously stated – it is almost always unattainable. We subconsciously set ourselves up for the fight. For ultimate doom.

Being on the outside , and having many many close people in my world from day to day, suddenly there has been this incoming hurricane of destruction in the lives of so many that I once knew as themselves , forging their way through life like the rest of us. Winning some, losing some.

But I began to notice just how inexplicably blind we become by the idea of love. Of being cared for. Of having that someone , or else we are nothing. We don’t know who the he’ll to be or who we were.

It’s really strange , and I can’t say I’ve felt this way before , but my complete hatred for the idea of love as a borderline has sent me into being quite oppositional and confrontational with these people.

One the one hand, I truly KNOW the experience. But, I also know the likelihood of succeeding to fill our love bucket that has a gaping hole in the bottom.

It’s gotten me down, avoidant , into a lesser type of splitting.

More like sternness. More like – I cannot hear another word about how these criminal animals have RUINED who I know you are. The beautiful person I see outside of bpd.

I simply cannot take in the pain I know they feel and the back and fourth traumatic drama as long as these men are around.

So why, if we have any self reflection at all, and try to be as calm, happy, and cope with this illness the best we can, do we build this lie and beat the horse until it’s skeleton is crushed into dust. Why?

Is it me? Am I now an outside to the idea of finding love because it’s been several months ?

I wish for it to end. I wish to be blunt and cut off any ties as if to say, ” if you continue, I can’t be a part of it “. It’s simply so devastating to see, and it is painful. It’s brutality against oneself. And that’s not what I ever wanted for these beautiful people.

Enough of that. I think I made my point.

My own reality stared at me intensely through my cards today as if to point the finger directly at my weakness. Tell me that it’s over if I continue on my own borderline path of self destruction.

But who am I girl, who am I.

I thank you for reading. Best,


I am speaking for myself , and for the many women and men I’ve met over the last 4 years who’ve been generous enough to share their stories .

Tonight My mind is clear, and I’m thinking straight.

The full moon had me completely disordered and lost ( see yesterdays post), and then I wake up today as normal and can be for me.

The whole day too. What an oddity.

These are the days I tune in deeply to my friends stories ,and their pain.

What similarities do I find within their stories .. what parallels , what jumps out , what have I figured out or been taught in therapy as to why we brood and contemplate living over this one , root cause of our pain which undeniably sets the tone for a life of emotional dysfunction ?


Beginning with familial, our earliest experience of the emotion.

Most of the time , we are abandoned , unwanted , abused , etc by one or both of our parents. Some worse or more obvious than others.

My story didn’t come to make sense until my thirties, but I digress.

” What is life without love !” , we hear. I often wish this emotion didn’t exist. And I often get my wish and don’t feel anything for anyone. Thanks BPD, sometimes you do something right.

Well, to us with bpd. It is non existent.

Often, we don’t even exist to ourselves if not being intensely cherished by someone we crave , want, wanted, or for any reason.

We don’t even really truly want it if we could easily get it. That’s the twist.

But when we knew someone wants us, wishes for us, thinks about us enough, or a lot , or even pleads for a word from us – we seem to feel quite well.

Why? Because that’s what we missed as children. Our life’s mission is to fill that void.

Some of us don’t make that connection, But I did.

Actually, to the extent of my psychiatrist drawing bone chilling parallels from my partners to my father.

Whether it was emotionally unavailable men, bi polar or psychopathic men, men with similar appearances , men who would use and/or abuse, there was always a tie to the past. Oh, and throw in a woman who was so much like my mother that my sexual connection shorted out.

An unfulfilled wish that quite frankly, would never cease until I understood the complexity , the darkness, but alas the simplicity of the connection.

I just wanted him to love me unconditionally. He was incapable, for reasons I understand now and have forgiven him for.

As an adult , I now know his story , his side , see his growth and willingness to see the pain he caused as an unfit parent for decades.

That, is why my time with the wrong men is over. Thank you ISTPD therapy. Thank you.

Now, I suffer for my friends who beat themselves to a pulp over the perceived or real loss of the current Love interests likelihood of meeting their expectations.

Usually, we attract narcissists and other mentally ill partners. Sometimes the relationship( or lack thereof) would be truly absurd to someone without bpd.

To me, I see it all from the standpoint of a borderline with enough knowledge, experience and understanding of the borderline mind , and the never met needs that we have for the subconsciously chosen unfit love interest.

We just want to be loved unconditionally. That’s ALL. Seems simple. Right?

But guess what, in my experience – a ” regular” guy that had genuine care and interest for me – pfft. Go away. I don’t want you in the slightest. I have actually experienced sick physical reactions to nice men. That comes from a childhood experience that remains unclear.

I’ll go after the psychopath with a girlfriend and take that abuse for 4 years and end up with Stockholm syndrome. Yep. That was my choice.

I’ll make a part two… but perhaps this is enlightening for someone. Remind me, because tomorrow I could be talking gibberish about my addiction and hate for people. Who knows. Only the wicked person behind the borderline wheel.

Thanks for reading,


Ps- not in the mood to edit. 🙂

You know those pivotal moments people talk about that arise in ones life – that moment where everything makes sense , and hope is found?

I believe today is that day for me.

After a brief frustration and halt in my short term intensive psychodynamic therapy with my brilliant psychiatrist- he called me into his office to discuss his conclusions after reviewing the videotapes of my previous 8-9 sessions.

I had mentioned a rather volatile and extremely mentally/emotionally abusive long relationship that I had with a man that I will call Joe.

Joe put me down like it was his job. His attitude towards me was either completely dismissive and punishing , or entirely ( seemingly) loving.
He flipped back and fourth between these two extremes for many years.
He would threaten me, make me feel unwelcome in our home, disregard my depression and physical pain, call me every degrading and insulting name in the book, etc.
I seldom left, but I always came back.

He cheated on me multiple times with the girl that he cheated on with me.
I still took him back.
You see- I grew up resenting my father for being emotionally and physically absent during a rather tough time he was having. I didn’t like the way he talked to my mother , and his anger outbursts left me scared of him. He never hit us, or abused us in any way.

What has been explained to me by my psychiatrist is that I developed an unconscious hate for my father – and sought relationships with emotionally unavailable men my whole life.
I endured their abuse, neglect, and lack of affection as I persisted on getting them to love me completely.
I would punish them, then feel great sadness and regret.
Thus, my bpd behaviours were born and kept alive.

This relationship with ” Joe” was an extension of my relationship with my father. He even looked like him.
The more I buried my sadness about Joe, and the worse he treated me, the more rage I had ,and ultimately suppressed.
Thus began the onset of my physical pain that has no known cause to date.

The only way out of my self defeating , painful existence is the release of my murderous rage towards psychopathic Joe ( my psychiatrist literally dX him that just today), and then the passage of guilt for psychologically wanting to kill my father.

It is so complex , and so upsetting to know that these two men set the path to many many years of self hate and pain.

I am now confident that I understand my complex behaviours, feelings, and need to carry on with this incredible therapy.

The bottom line that I want to share with you all, is to dig deep into your past and consider that today’s suffering CAN be figured out, and healed.
Medications and drugs were never the answer for me, and this discovery only reinforces that notion.
We must trace our suffering to the inner child who is still crying out for help and longing for true emotional closeness.