Let me make a suggestion. Don’t look up if you can recover from BPD. There are so many contradicting articles. Some have really positive things to say – with therapy in approximately 8-10 years, with DBT and extensive therapy some of the syptoms go away and you are no longer considered borderline. That’s a long time. Pretty upsetting to read to be honest. I’m trying not to think to hard about that because I don’t want to give up trying. So that’s good, right?
I just finished Girl, Interrupted. I wanted to see how BPD is portrayed in a movie. I know we all are different. People in general are. Man though. I hope that I’m not like Susanna. I don’t want to be shitty to people. I’m scared that I am and I don’t see it, like her. The whole reason I went down the rabbit hole of looking to see if you can recover from this shit was because, spoiler alert, she gets released from the hospital with a diagnosis of recovered boderline. Fucking movies.
There was a good interpretation of all the different types of mental illness. No one is the same, we all know that, but sometimes I think it’s good to look at the big picture. I really appreciated how the nurse, played by Whoopie Goldberg, talked honestly to Susanna. She didn’t sugar coat things and was real. My therapist is the same. It isn’t tough love, it is mutual respect.
The nurse said to Susanna in regards to not vocalizing the things she is feeling and seeing in herself to her doctor to “Put it down. Put it away so you can’t curl up with it anymore.” I agree. Writing my blog posts lets me say some of the thoughts that are constantly bombaring my thoughts. If you are reading this, if anyone is, writing the things that are racing through your head gets them out. At least for a little while. They are on paper(or on your computer) and pushing them out helps a little.
Before I started writing this post I had all these things I wanted to say. My stupid anxiety is starting to come back, slowly, but it is. And I forgot. Again. I’ve had so many things I wanted to tell you and talk about. I hate that this shit happens. I’ve always had a bad memory but it is like, a thousand times worse.
I guess I should also say that while I’ve kind of enjoyed not having any feelings for the past week I am kind of hating it. There were sad things that I’ve thought. Sad scenes in tv shows. A sad scene in the book I just finished. And nothing. No tears shed. I knew it was sad and I thought it was sad, but nothing. It was as if I was not inside my body completely. It’s uncomfortable. I’m trying to stop myself from being scared of what happens when I come back from this depression vacation but it keeps popping up in my head. I’m scared for Josh and Angie and Andrea because they are gonna have to see whatever happens. Now that I’m saying it I feel the pressure behind my eyes that tears want to happen and my chest is a little tight but still, nothing.
I’m gonna end this with another quote from the movie. “Crazy isn’t being broken, or swallowed in a dark secret, it’s you, or me, amplified. I’d subtract crazy and replace it with depression. Crazy isn’t something I want to think I am. It’s derogatory and wrong. I’m bruised. We all are somehow.