Holding in the Screams

Frustration. Anger. Saddness. Those are just some of the emotions that make me split. From what I have read about splitting, when a person with BPD splits, everything is black and white. It’s an all or nothing way of thinking. When things go wrong, a person will feel “cheated”, “ruined,” or “screwed”. I found that information on verywellmind.com in the article titled “Splitting and Borderline Personality Disorder”.

There are way to many triggers for me that cause me to start splitting. I am having a really hard time being able to stop myself from it, which makes me frustrated, which, makes me split. It is brutal and I hate that trait. It makes things very scary.

I want to start this off with Anger. Anger is the hardest trigger at the moment. The moment something sets off my anger it takes about 7 seconds for it to turn into pure, blinding rage. Once that rage kicks in, I am no longer in control of my actions. I get reckless and stop caring about my safety. It is the hardest split that happens. Not that the other ones aren’t fucking awful, but the rage is really making me hate myself. I am completely open with everything I do with my therapist. I need to be. If I’m not, I’m not going to get the skills to try and get through this. But when I first try the skills and I still can’t stop. I know everything takes time, but fuck.

The rage, when it’s over, really wears me out both physically and mentally. I feel like absolute garbage, like I am a living dumpster fire. There are times when it happens that I go into a frustration split. So one after the other. It doesn’t seem fair. My brain wants to constantly be trying to put me in the ground. I don’t want that. It’s another black and white situation. So. On days when the splits just keep happening, I am so fragile, in so many ways.

Frustration. Fucking frustration. When something happens that gets me TOO frustrated I spiral to the I’m useless, I’m not worth it, I’m disgusting to look at, I’m ugly. I’m stupid, I’m boring. Feeling any of those feels like I don’t deserve anything. That I’m not worth it. That everyone would be better off without me. The frustration leads to a really dark place. I think that’s the worst one to be honest. But I NEVER want to tell anyone that makes me feel that way what they did or how I feel. Because I don’t want to feel even less shitty. I turn on myself and everything I felt makes me hate myself even more. So it’s a damned if I do damned if I don’t situation. So I keep it in. (Don’t do that at home kids.)

Saddness. This is going to have to be it’s own blog post. But what I’ll talk about now is when I’m sad, I am devastated. The world is dark. Nothing anyone can say can take the saddness away. And the saddness has a mind of it’s own. An amazing friend, Leigh, said that when we get too emotional we are emotional cutters. No visible wounds. Just the torture we inflict on ourselves to release the saddness. The emotional cutting comes in different forms. Watching movies that rip your heart out, like for me, A Star is Born. Or listening to songs that you connect to your broken heart, like for me listening to For Good from the musical Wicked, or Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again from Phantom of the Opera. Or reading a book that just destroyed you, The Fault in Our Stars. Looking at you John Green for ripping my heart out and blowing it up with dynamite. I know the hardest part of the process to gain strength and coping skills is giving that up. Thank fuck we aren’t there yet.

Today was a frustration day. We’ll see what tomorrow holds. Yesterday was almost a perfect day. Today was good for a long while, but the demons still attacked. I try so hard to be positive but so many times I just can’t find my hope. I really wish I could love me.


I am sharing my story of why and how I developed BPD and what I am doing to rebuild myself.

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