“It only takes a slight metamorphosis in your life to throw you back into the cycle.”
I have been told before by an acquaintance working for the NHS that Borderline Personality Disorder (or, as it is sometimes referred to, Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder or EUPD) is a condition that medical professionals give to patients who don’t quite fit the criteria for the more common disorders such as psychosis, bipolar disorder, or social anxiety. My sister was diagnosed with BPD when I was growing up, and although I knew she was ill, I never really understood what it was until I was given my own diagnosis years after her death.
On paper, Borderline Personality Disorder is a condition that affects roughly seven in every thousand people in the United Kingdom (please note there are differing estimates quoted online for the incidence rate of BPD). It is defined by several characteristics and is often diagnosed in connection with other mental illnesses such as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and anorexia nervosa.
Symptoms typically include drastic mood changes onset by what a lot of people would consider trivial or unimportant experiences (such as somebody making a small comment about the way the person is dressed, or changing plans last minute). Individuals with BPD often suffer from attachment issues; they think in extremes, one minute being adamant that a person is perfect in every way, to thinking that the same person is evil and ‘out to get them’.
They can experience intense bouts of anxiety, and commonly have difficulties in maintaining relationships and friendships due to their intense (and arguably inconsistent) attitudes and mindsets. Impulsivity, promiscuity and dissociation are common traits, and people with this condition can sometimes appear reckless and unstable when they are having trouble coping with their intense emotional episodes. It can be controlled with the use of medication and therapy, but there is no real cure for the illness, and individuals can struggle for years without actually being aware that they are showing traits of BPD.
What I would like to address, however, is not how the doctors, family, friends or partners of those with BPD experience these individuals. I feel it is important for others experiencing the same illness to hear a first-hand account from a diagnosed BPD sufferer. Perhaps, if more first-hand information is available on the internet, it would remove some of the stigma and mystery surrounding the condition. I have become aware that there is little information detailing the BPD experience, other than the usual basic websites presenting typical symptoms and statistics. I don’t want to be a statistic. I also want others to know that their personal experiences are valid, and that they are by no means diminished to being simply a set of features on an NHS leaflet.
There is no simple way of describing what it feels like to suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder. The closest way I could explain it would be to state that I have a lot of trouble with self-identity, consistent opinions of others, and recognising appropriate levels of attachment.
As mentioned earlier, BPD sufferers often think and act in extremes, but actually experiencing this can be so much worse than the description implies. I am in constant turmoil; worrying about the past mistakes I have made, worrying about who I am as an individual and making poor decisions, which ultimately affect the future and inevitably create more disruption to my mindset and those around me. I experience intense depression if I feel I am being criticised or attacked in any way, but also I become overly excited and overwhelmed with joy if something remotely successful happens to me.
When it comes to relationships, I can shamefully admit that I have never once experienced a consistent, stable connection with another person which didn’t feel abusive (from both sides), and/or turbulent. People will often mention a ‘shift’ in my personality; often accusing me of being manipulative, or lying about my feelings, as it can seem extremely confusing and strange when a person will, in one moment, have all the love in the world for their partner, only to feel completely the opposite in a matter of hours.
Because I have trouble dealing with conflict in a rational manner, this will lead to me putting myself in reckless situations such as going out alone and getting drunk, abusing drugs, self-harming or seeking attention from strangers in the hope that they will somehow validate my behaviour.
I have a constant feeling of inadequacy, partially due to the things I have done in the past which I do not forgive myself for, but also because I have a paranoia that everybody else is constantly judging me or somehow manipulating me into being a different person than the person I already am. I have a weak sense of identity, although in every moment, I feel I am convincingly a strong individual with morals and rationality which nobody else seems aware of.
I think a lot of people will assume that a person experiencing BPD symptoms may not immediately recognise the harm or pain they are causing others in their actions, but I feel that, even in the moment of acting reckless or making an impulsive decision, I will be torn between being aware that I have a mental illness, and appreciating that I am self-aware enough to change my unstable behaviour.
It can be so crippling; knowing you are hurting people and spiralling out of control, but feeling so helpless and inadequate that you cannot make changes to your reactions to simple, everyday experiences. It feels exhausting, and the guilt and depression you confront often leads to suicidal thoughts and further self-destructive behaviours.
I have been on all kinds of medication; antipsychotics, antidepressants, mood stabilisers etc. I have undergone Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, and oftentimes thought I was feeling slightly better or improving. But no matter how stable you feel at any given moment; it only takes a slight metamorphosis in your life to throw you back into the cycle of that self-deprecating, self-destructive ethos, which damages not only yourself, but everybody you come into contact with.
I do not intend to sound dramatic or radical in depicting my experiences, and it is common for any person who suffers to compare themselves to others; often using the phrase ‘there are people worse off than me’. I suppose what I am trying to emphasise is that, it is acceptable to take comfort in the fact that your own narrative may cause you distress regardless of your past or reasons – but that it is also okay to allow yourself to analyse your behaviour in an objective manner without blame or self-loathing.
I hope this article can somehow help or comfort anybody else who may relate to my own account, or merely find it useful when finding out about the diagnosis of a loved one.
