First day on the blog job. But not really, because I tend to create 5,000 different Gmail accounts for different things and have started about 10 different blogs, and never follow though. Until today, (mic in hand) I will follow through today people! I will create a funny blog, that everyone will fall in love with, I’ll become famous and have an audiobook.
I am a borderline. Do I capitalize borderline? Borderline. Basically I have a personality disorder that causes me to fight my mental health demons daily with a big stick and a herd of unicorns. (Googles, what do you call a group of horses.) Okay, I have a “Team” of unicorns! How appropriate.
I was diagnosed with BPD somewhere around March of 2016. Suicidal ideations were at their all time high, so before I knocked myself off, I reached out for help. Prior to this my mother, who actually needs a Wonder Woman uniform, was the quintessential super hero. I was living in Seattle and would call her in panic, crying, expressing my ideations, creating the biggest panic possible for her, unintentionally. My mom was 3 hours and a mountain pass away. She could not just come and rescue me with every manic or depressive state. (Skip forward 2 months) I moved home with mom. I am still alive.
This blog will never have a streamline to follow, because I am borderline, and we jump around from moment to moment, so you can follow along for this wild ride, or simply stop reading. Oh and I like to say words like fuck and shit, and will often be explicit. I’m writing this on a whim, but if I can project into the future, I think it will get very explicit, and a lot of “F” words. My advice to you is, if you do not like explicitness, naughty words and random thoughts, I’d go now. And don’t be all judgey either. Mmmmm-Girl, we all got them demons in one way or another and we all need a team of unicorns.
You can google BPD, but it’s different for everyone. Thankfully, I don’t have the tendency to be angry and violent, or self harm, thanks to Allah (SWT) & my team of unicorns. Everything else is pretty textbook. For me, I’m like if you take Dory and a squirrel and squish them together, that’s me in mania, which is 85% of the time. I can’t remember shit, and I have the attention span of a gnat, yet I am a happy fucking camper! I get super exited about new things, practically cure world hunger, solve the national debt, create 15 self help groups, lose 75lbs, (all of this in theory) then, all of the sudden out of nowhere, I am bored, and have lost all interest.
When I was in my depressive state, my BGF (best guy friend) would constantly try to cheer me up, but he would always say, Tiffany you need a hobby or something that makes YOU happy inside. This suggestion, (find what makes you happy) is always like nails on a chalkboard to me. I could never find what makes me happy inside or a hobby because it changed from day to day, hour to hour, sometimes minute to minute. I’m really counting on therapy to fix this shit for real. I’d like to take up jogging, but I’m a lady, and ladies don’t jog or run. And what I mean by that is, I’m too overweight and I smoke too much. I’d die. Suicide by jogging and being non-ladylike.
Therapy began last week. I went and met with my therapist who specializes with people who have BPD. She does DBT (dialectical behavior therapy) which is ones only hope with BPD, or so I’ve read. However, there is no cure or medication for BPD, just therapy. Hope this lady knows what’s she’s doing.
Exhausted from this post….Okay not really, but I could use a nap, I kneed more coffee….it’s Monday, and Fuck.