“I am proof that you can suffer with this illness and overcome it.”

I experience or have experienced all nine symptoms of BPD at different points in my life. Fear of abandonment is one that I deal with all the time, as I feel it is a driver for many of my thoughts and actions. Many times, my behaviors can be traced back to the core feeling of, “This person will leave me”.

Explosive anger has been the most destructive of my symptoms because prior to treatment I was likely to act out on these feelings. My anger runs deep and is a very powerful emotion.

I have now learned that the intensity of my anger is a result of my diagnosis and that I can take actions to keep it in check so it doesn’t control me as it has in the past. I’d say that even with treatment intense anger is a symptom that still plagues me, but I have learned to recognize it and take action to stop myself from acting on it.

I did not realize that I had a problem until I ended up in a psych ward with suicide attempts at age 41. I got married young, and I think that kept some of my symptoms under wraps. I didn’t date and had a stable partner.

My BPD affected my marriage very much and my partner was my FP (favorite person). As a result of not knowing that I had BPD and working out my own ways to cope with the symptoms (without realizing they were symptoms of something) I developed a very unhealthy, co-dependent relationship with my partner. I used him as my emotional regulator—as long as he was ‘ok’ I could be ‘ok’.

This led to him not being able to really have any feelings that were in any way negative because then I would freak out and be a mess- anxious, worried that he was mad at me, worried that he didn’t love me and would leave me. I’m sure it was suffocating for him. I didn’t like to be left alone, I sought validation constantly, and then I was unable to believe him when he said he loved me. I always thought he wasn’t really telling me the truth.

When I was diagnosed with BPD I had a hard time believing it as I kept saying to myself, “But I have friends!” Upon reflection I was able to see that I do a very good job of maintaining platonic friendships, but I have a tendency to have one good friend at a time until something happens that makes me think they don’t like me and then I just pull away from them before they can reject me. Then I find another friend to be close to. I also can cut people out very easily—it’s that black and white, idealizing and devaluing.

When I was diagnosed, I was not told that I received the diagnosis (or at least I do not remember being told) and saw it on my discharge paperwork. I was terrified.

I can’t say that the professionals in the hospital were knowledgeable or helpful, which is why I think they didn’t address it with me while there or even offer treatment options. They started me on an anti-psychotic medication at a low dose and sent me on my way. I ended up being hospitalized three more times in a short period for more suicide attempts.

My last hospitalization left me with no home to go to, with my partner filing for divorce, taking custody of my children, and kicking me out of our home. I was homeless and hopeless. I got myself into a partial hospitalization program, then an intensive outpatient program, then entered a DBT program. So I was able to get the right treatment and DBT really has worked for me.

The most challenging aspects of recovery to manage are dealing with the emptiness and loneliness and forming my own identity. I find that I felt empty and lonely a lot, especially because my children were taken from me and my identity as a mother was decimated.

I no longer felt like anyone’s mother. I instead felt like a pariah and failure. The loneliness is awful. I went from being a mom who did everything to having nothing and no one. When I reflect on it, I am actually amazed that I survived and did not end my life. I felt I had little reason to live. I found that going to work was a solace and is what kept me alive. I had a sense of purpose there and I had a sense of worth.

Forming my own identity is an ongoing process. I know that people grow and change, but with BPD I often wonder if I am growing and changing or if I just have no sense of self. The diagnosis makes me question many things about myself—is this BPD or normal? I worked on choosing values and that helped me have a more stable sense of self and identity. I can look at my values and how I live to carry them out and know that even if what I wear changes, or my hair changes, or I redecorate I still have the same core values.

The stigma is incredible. It’s everywhere. I believe my partner had an easier time taking my children because of the diagnosis. I feel nervous to disclose it to potential romantic partners because when they look it up, they’re going to see so many negative images and descriptions. I had a friend who stopped seeing me as a person and instead saw me as the diagnosis. It was so demeaning.

I feel afraid that people who know my diagnosis or have heard it through my ex see me as a crazy person who deserved the negative consequences I faced. I feel nervous disclosing it to medical professionals in case they don’t take me seriously. My ex-partner saw me as my diagnosis as soon as he found out. Everything about me could be written off as BPD and my feelings or emotions weren’t valid because I was BPD, not me. Being seen as a diagnosis and not a person is so incredibly invalidating and demeaning. It makes me feel so low.

I am very proud of how far I have come in terms of controlling my suicidal urges and thinking. I have had suicidal thoughts my entire life and never knew that was abnormal. I still have these thoughts but now I label them as poor coping mechanisms that I am unlearning.

I’m very proud that I am open about my diagnosis despite my fears of stigma and rejection. I consciously decided to be open in order to fight the stigma of the diagnosis. I want others to see me and see that I am successful and a good person and I have BPD.

I recently was awarded 50/50 custody of my children after an extensive (11 month) forensic custody evaluation and that has been so validating. I am so proud of the progress I have made and that I have won my children back. I feel that I am proof that you can suffer with this illness and overcome it. It can be managed. It can exist within but not control me. I can be a mother with this. I can live my life and have relationships and be fulfilled despite my BPD. 

I would love for people to recognize that untreated BPD is an illness, not a choice. Treat the person with empathy. Realize that our brains are different. I like the term neurodivergent because it lacks the stigma the term ‘mentally ill’ has. The brain of a person with BPD works differently and that doesn’t mean it is bad. Even after DBT I recognize that my brain works differently than someone without the diagnosis.

I think of my time with no diagnosis and no treatment as a time of uncontrolled illness, but my current reality is neurodivergent because I have learned ways to manage my thinking and brain patterns instead of being unaware and having no control over my thinking.

BPD is controllable and manageable with treatment. For me, I know that treatment is lifelong. I will always have this to manage. Loved ones need to realize that this is a diagnosis that needs ongoing management. A person with BPD can unlearn the previous, damaging coping mechanisms and can learn new, healthier ones.

It is not easy. It takes incredible effort. We need support. We need our loved ones to learn about the diagnosis and learn about how it affects each of us individually. We need our loved ones to be familiar with the treatment options and to support us in treatment, recognizing that treatment is ongoing. Mostly, we need the same as anyone else dealing with any diagnosis needs- loving support.