Video taken 6/15/2021 before my BPD Diagnosis-I was burnt out and miserable AF
6/30/2022
It’s been a year since I received my life changing diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder and so much in my life has changed because of it. I started therapy sometime around late June and I had to do a 3-hour mental health assessment in two separate sessions where my therapists asked me questions about past trauma and past patterns of behavior. It was a really, rough week emotionally for me because of that and other personal stuff going on in my life. I sat down across from my therapist as she explained how Borderline Personality Disorder diagnosis ended up on my concept map.
My first concept map-made on 6/30/2021, altered by me in Mid July
My reaction was one of numbness and shock. And then I made the mistake of going to the internet and looking it up and well BPD gets a bad rap for good reason. After reading all the bad things about BPD, I thought “I knew I had issues and was kind of messed up, but I didn’t expect to be this fucked up, this broken”. It doesn’t help that a couple of things that stand out on the internet about BPD are “BPD is the most painful mental disorder “Or “BPD people are manipulative” or “Some people with BPD are incapable of love”. It didn’t help that at the time I was diagnosed, I was also having a mental breakdown and my relationship at the time was on the rocks. When I told my friends and family about my diagnosis, most of them were supportive and encouraging but some were in denial and didn’t fully accept it. I was told “I couldn’t have BPD because I’m not so awful” or that “it’s not a big deal”. A couple of weeks after my diagnosis, I was broken up with. While I don’t want to go into the details about the events that led up to the demise of that relationship; I will say that the last day I saw my ex, there were a couple of things he said to me that really impacted me and made me really look at my life. I won’t say what they were, but it was useful for the next part of my journey. The breakup validated my worst fears about myself, “I’m unlovable”, I’m hard to love”, “I’m always going to be too emotionally unstable to be in a relationship” “I don’t deserve love” “I always fuck up everything good in my life” “I’m too fucked up and broken to be loved” etc., etc. Y’all have read the poetry and stories about how I don’t handle breakups well-ever. So, I’m lying-in bed crying and thinking all these things and don’t want to get up. I was on vacation when this happened so I could’ve stayed in bed all day and it would have been fine. However, something told me to keep going and getting up. The rest of the month of July is a blur to me at this point. I did document through video and journaling what I did so I know what I did, however there are parts of that month I don’t remember living.
Video taken 7/16/21, 7/19/21, 7/24/21-the start of this journey was difficult and rough-I was in and out of suicidal ideation mode for 2 weeks straight
I know I kept up with my therapy appointments and worked every day and wrote. Something I had to do for therapy was keep a daily diary card monitoring my emotions and any situations that brought out strong emotions in me. The main emotions I felt the months of July, August, and September were anger, sadness, and despair so filling out my diary card was a task but also necessary for me to get better at coping with life.
my first diary card-first two weeks of July
Something my current therapist said in group therapy was how grief makes one take a stock of life and how you’re living it. After the breakup, while yes, I felt this immense grief over that situation, I also felt grief and anger over other traumatic events in my life I hadn’t healed from. It was like I had this closet full of unprocessed trauma that was about to burst open at any time and in July, the door busted wide open and out came well, almost everything I kept inside of me well hidden. Shame, guilt, anger, fury, despair, sadness over past trauma were feelings I became well acquainted with for those first three months. I felt stuck at times in this emotional fog but somehow kept going. I continually asked myself what the purpose of all my hard work was and at first it was so that I don’t ever “split” on my kids like I had on other people in my past. I also had to learn a new language with my BPD diagnosis. I know that sounds weird but with all the new vocabulary words thrown at me, it’s what it felt like. In June and July, I learned real quick what dissociation, masking, and splitting was because that’s basically what I did those months. I also learned the term hypersexuality which I’ve addressed in some of my posts and poetry in this blog. Reflecting on everything that I’ve learned I can understand how my behavior can seem scary and unsafe to some people. I’ve finally had a deep understanding of how much of my erratic and impulsive behavior has greatly impacted my life.
It was April of 1996 and I had just broken up with my boyfriend of 3 months after he had grown distant from me. I was in a world of despair and teenage angst and longed to no longer exist. I was feeling this rush of intense sadness as I was walking home from school. I looked at the cars on the street and thought about how easy it would be to end my sadness if I got run over by one. As I was alone in my thoughts, I stopped paying attention as I crossed the street and wasn’t aware that a car was coming. It stopped within inches of hitting me and the driver honked at me and yelled at me. I continued to walk in shock of what had just happened. I didn’t know then but I would be walking into many more BPD episodes like this one.
Fast forward to the summer of 2021 and I’m 40, the mother of 3 kids, work 2 jobs, and have a complicated love life. I decide to go back to therapy due to some recent trauma and driving anxiety. I do a 3 hour assessment and when the feedback comes back, it’s there on my concept map: I have Borderline Personality Disorder. I expected the driving phobia but the new diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder was definitely unexpected.
What is Borderline Personality Disorder?
According to Mayo Clinic, “Borderline Personality Disorder or BPD is amental health disorder that impacts the way you think and feel about yourself and others, causing problems functioning in everyday life. It includes self-image issues, difficulty managing emotions and behavior, and a pattern of unstable relationships.“
What are the signs and symptoms?
An intense fear of abandonment, even going to extreme measures to avoid real or imagined separation or rejection
A pattern of unstable intense relationships, such as idealizing someone one moment and then suddenly believing the person doesn’t care enough or is cruel
Rapid changes in self-identity and self-image that include shifting goals and values, and seeing yourself as bad or as if you don’t exist at all
Periods of stress-related paranoia and loss of contact with reality, lasting from a few minutes to a few hours
Impulsive and risky behavior, such as gambling, reckless driving, unsafe sex, spending sprees, binge eating or drug abuse, or sabotaging success by suddenly quitting a good job or ending a positive relationship
Suicidal threats or behavior or self-injury, often in response to fear of separation or rejection
Wide mood swings lasting from a few hours to a few days, which can include intense happiness, irritability, shame or anxiety
Ongoing feelings of emptiness
Inappropriate, intense anger, such as frequently losing your temper, being sarcastic or bitter, or having physical fights
Causes for Borderline Personality Disorder:
Genetics. Some studies of twins and families suggest that personality disorders may be inherited or strongly associated with other mental health disorders among family members.
Brain abnormalities. Some research has shown changes in certain areas of the brain involved in emotion regulation, impulsivity and aggression. In addition, certain brain chemicals that help regulate mood, such as serotonin, may not function properly.
Risk Factors include:
Hereditary predisposition. You may be at a higher risk if a close relative — your mother, father, brother or sister — has the same or a similar disorder.
Stressful childhood. Many people with the disorder report being sexually or physically abused or neglected during childhood. Some people have lost or were separated from a parent or close caregiver when they were young or had parents or caregivers with substance misuse or other mental health issues. Others have been exposed to hostile conflict and unstable family relationships.
Learning about this disorder has been overwhelming and also life changing. Some of my friends didn’t think it was possible for me to have BPD because I’m too nice. I was also kind of in denial at first until I did the research and thought damn, my life finally makes sense to me. I’ve been coping with intense emotions since I could remember and have a pattern of risky and impulsive behavior and sometimes self sabotaging my own success and romantic relationships. One minute my mood can shift from happy and joyful to full on anger and sadness if I am triggered by feelings of rejection, abandonment, being criticized or judged. I also have a tendency to villainize people if I feel threatened by them. Also, when I feel like my life is “too normal” or “too boring”, I seek out an adrenaline rush and create chaos.
Throughout the years, I’ve leaned some healthy coping mechanisms like journaling, writing poetry or blogging, exercising, mediocre dancing and singing. I’ve also had some unhealthy mechanism like drinking, binge shopping, binge eating, having sex for only validation purposes. I’d like to think that I’ve gotten better with time because I’ve become more self aware of myself and my need to survive not only for my myself but also for my kids.
I’m hopeful that with this new diagnosis of BPD and therapy, I’ve have way better coping mechanisms to become a better version of myself. I’m hopeful that going on this new journey, I’ll not only be surviving but I’ll be thriving. I also hope that I heal the girl in the picture above who was a teenager trying to find love for within the arms of a any dude because she didn’t know how to love herself.
I nurture my soil with love and everything that makes me smile Excitement stirs inside of me thinking of all my untapped potential and the poems and stories that are yet to be written The soil I step in is solid and I am grounded and calm Is this what’s called God’s love?
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Todo Sobre Mi Madre Roma All About A Boy La Historia Oficial Sylvia Mujeres Al Borde De de un Ataque de Nervios Annie Hall Frida Fools Rush In
My default setting must be sad because when a wave of happiness comes all I can feel is anxiety a stabbing in my gut that makes me nauseous maybe I’m still getting used to this new feeling of joy and excitement in my life Maybe I don’t know how to deal with finally being healthy and happy maybe I’m just used to my constant state of misery
I was trapped in a mental cage of misery I didn’t know how to rewrite my story and while poetry helped me it was with grief and therapy I finally felt free I learned to let go of old resentments and grudges and healed old emotional bruises and while I still have minor annoyances my anger and angst no longer control me
My disintegration looks like a tsunami that destroys me I try to navigate the tidal waves of my emotions and that tidal waves washes over me, and I’m overwhelmed and my logic is short circuited, and impulsivity takes over Oh shit I posted that Oh fuck I bought that Sorry, I didn’t mean that- And I harm myself and others without malicious intent and don’t remember how it happened
I used to live in a world full of regret, sorrow, and resentment until I no longer wanted to live in misery so I let go of everything and everyone that didn’t serve me and held onto everything and everyone who helped me grow and now I’ve blossomed with love, with purpose and for once I’m full of happiness, calm, and serenity And I finally feel free to love my life, to love who I’ve become
Morning rain makes me want to lay longer in bed and listen to music and cry cry about everything that could have been but instead I get up and start my day even try to get excited about it because if I give in to my depression for even one day my inner critic wins
Feeling the fatigue of life makes me want lay down in an endless sleep- Some people call it suicidal ideation I call it relief from grief- But that’s when I use all of my coping skills write sad poetry, or write a gratitude list or just allow myself to feel everything I’m trying to escape from and constantly remind myself feelings like this are always temporary and tomorrow could bring new and exciting things to see
Setting This takes place in a nice and clean kitchen and there is a refrigerator with pictures and Jason’s drawings and also a table.
LACIE enters following MARY into the kitchen door and sits down. LACIE puts her coat on the chair. LACIE is coming home from prison. LACIE walks with a slight limp and sits down.
LACIE: Damn, Mom, the kitchen looks a helluva lot different compared to the last time I was here. MARY: Well, I guess I forgot to mention to you. We renovated the kitchen last summer. LACIE: Well, I gotta tell ya , you really outdid yourself. MARY: Yeah, well with your dad’s new job, we’ve been able to do a lot of things around here we always wanted to do but never had the money to— LACIE: Wait, Dad got a new job? God, he’s been at Phillips Assembly for years, I thought he would stay there forever. MARY: Well, ya know we thought it was time for him to move on to something else…something where he could better our situation. LACIE: Still, Dad and change, you know damn well those are just two things that don’t go together.(Looks at fingernails and bites them.) So, where is he working? MARY: Dacute Enterprises. He’s an overseer for their assembly line.
(LACIE bursts out laughing.)
MARY: Hey, what’s so funny? LACIE: Who in their right mind would give a drunk a supervisory position?
(MARY frowns.)
MARY: Well, maybe things have changed more than ya think. LACIE: Whadda ya mean? MARY: You’ll see. So, how does it feel to finally be back home? LACIE: Pretty good. But damn, I didn’t imagine that so much shit would change ‘round here. MARY: Hey, watch your language around here!
LACIE: It didn’t bother ya before.
MARY: Well, we don’t talk that way no more.
(LACIE gives MARY a dismissive look.)
MARY: Ya know, for Jason’s sake.
LACIE: Okay, then.
MARY: So, ya hungry?
LACIE: Yeah.
MARY: Whadda ya feel like eating?
(MARY goes to the refrigerator and looks for something to cook.)
LACIE: Anything really.
MARY: Okay.
(MARY pulls out something to cooks fridge. LACIE looks at JASON’S artwork on
the side of the fridge.)
LACIE: So, these are Jason’s drawings?
(MARY closes fridge and looks proudly at artwork.)
MARY: Yeah, creative ain’t he?
LACIE: Yeah, I see that. I can’t wait ‘til he gets home. Me and him have lotsof catching up to do.
MARY: Don’t get so excited , we really do need to talk about—
LACIE: Later, I don’t feel up to listening to one of your talks…had to listen to enough of them when you use to visit me.
(MARY lets out a big sigh.)
MARY: Okay.
LACIE: So, when’s he coming home?
MARY: Well your dad shoulda picked him up from voice lessons ten minutes ago so they should be home maybe in 30 minutes.
LACIE: Voice lessons? What the….I mean, when did this happen?
MARY: Six months ago,the reverend at church heard him singing one day and thought he was pretty good and so he suggested voice lessons to fine tune his instrument, whateva that means. Your dad didn’t wanna let him at first, but Jason, as always, found a way to convince him.
LACIE: Church huh? Since, when did y’all start going to church?
MARY: Well…
LACIE: Ya know something; I need a beer about now.
(LACIE gets up and looks in the fridge for a beer.)
LACIE: Where does dad keep the beer nowadays? I can’t find it. MARY: Your dad doesn’t drink anymore.
(LACIE slams the refrigerator door and sits down.)
LACIE: What do you mean dad don’t drink no more? You gotta be joking right? MARY: Now why would I joke about something like that?
LACIE: He don’t drink no more? At all? MARY: Nope. It was one of the conditions the social worker gave us that your dad had to agree to so the state would let us have custody of Jason. I wanted him to tell you himself, but— LACIE: What the hell! I mean I know I’ve been gone for a while, but sheesh I expected at least a few things to stay the same. MARY: I thought you’d be happy your dad stopped drinking. I know it’s something you used to always whine about. LACIE: I know I did, it’s just that… MARY: What is it? LACIE: Never mind. Well, at least I can count on one thing and that’s finally getting to know my kid. I can’t wait to see him. I wonder if he’ll still remember me— MARY: We need to talk. LACIE: I told you, I don’t feel like— MARY: You just don’t know. There are some things that we’ve had to tell—
(DALE enters with JASON running. Jason notices Lacie and hides behind Mary’s chair.)
MARY: I wasn’t expecting y’all so soon. (Gives DALE an accusatory look.)A call sure would’ve been nice. DALE: Well, I didn’t expect J’s lesson to let out so early and since I was— JASON: Who’s that?
(Lacie approaches Jason slowly.)
LACIE: You should know who I am, now come over here and give your –
(Dale immediately gets in between Lacie and Jason and pulls Jason to him, faces him.)
MARY: Sister a big hug. Don’t ya remember we talked last week about a sister that might be coming to live with us? JASON: Oh! Now, I remember! The one living in…in (Jason starts scratching his head) DALE: Europe for the past six years. JASON: That’s right…Hey, I’m Jason
(Extends hand to LACIE, LACIE grabs him and hugs him, JASON is real uncomfortable. LACIE won’t let go of JASON, MARY goes and rescues JASON from LACIE’S grasp and pulls him towards her. LACIE’S eyes tear up.)
MARY: Jason, honey, why don’t you go wash up and go to your room for a little while your dad and I catch up with your sister. JASON: Okay, Mommy.
(JASON leaves, but looks back in kind of a weird way at LACIE.)
(LACIE stands there for a minute and then walks towards where JASON went, MARY stops her by grabbing her by the shoulders. They’re facing each other.)
MARY: Don’t! LACIE: Sister? Europe? What kinda lies have you been telling MY son? DALE: Keep your voice down, the boy will hear you.
(MARY motions for LACIE to sit down but LACIE won’t.)
MARY: Sit down, please, your dad and I need to explain a few things to you.
LACIE: Explain what? That you have basically stolen my son from me… YOU promised me he would know who I was once I got out. No fucking wonder you wouldn’t bring him to come visit me. I ain’t gonna listen to this shit.
(LACIE heads towards the door to get JASON but DALE stands in front of the door.)
LACIE: Get outta my way, you— DALE: Sit down and shut up and LISTEN to what me and your ma have to say if you care about Jason at all. LACIE: Shit! That’s funny coming from you considering all my life the only thing you ever cared about was your fucking Rolling Rock. I wouldn’t be in this fucking mess if you hadn’t been such a sorry-
(DALE slaps LACIE across the cheek, MARY pulls them apart, all three of them just stand there for a moment.)
LACIE: I don’t need this shit! I’m getting my son and leaving this hellhole! MARY: Please, Lacie, don’t be so damn stubborn and hear us out— LACIE: Why the hell should I?
(LACIE walks towards the door again.)
MARY: If you’re not a completely selfish bitch, you will-
(LACIE stops and faces MARY.)
LACIE: Selfish, like you should be one to fucking talk calling ME selfish when you’re the one who wouldn’t stop HIM(pointing to DALE) from beating the shit out of me when he— MARY: Just calm down and let me explain some things to you LACIE: I guess I’ll have to just so you leave me alone. (Crosses her arms with a scowl)
(MARY sits down.)
MARY: Okay, okay. When you had your little incident- LACIE: Damn, you make it sound like I tripped and fell or something. DALE: What your ma means is that when you were arrested, we found out all of a sudden you had a son. MARY: Yeah, you don’t think it took us by surprise? You were gone for two years and we looked everywhere for you— LACIE: And so because you’re pissed off at me, you decided to get back at me by telling MY son that you are his parents. MARY: When are you going to learn the whole world doesn’t revolve around you? What we did was out of love for our grandson. Now just listen…as I was saying we looked for you everywhere. DALE: And then the cops come up to the house one day and tell us you have killed your husband and if we could take our grandson in. MARY: A grandson that needed so much out of us and we had no choice and saw ourselves raising your son. DALE: We started to see things in a new way, ya know. MARY: All we wanted for him was to grow up with a normal family… so yeah for his well being…we told him we were his parents, and you were his sister. LACIE: I can’t believe you did this! DALE: What did you expect us to do? Tell him that his real mom was in jail for killing his father. LACIE: Oh and you think I killed him for fun or something, I had to kill that asshole to save both me and Jason…you don’t fucking understand…that sick bastard had already broken my leg and when I found him trying to mess with Jason…I knew I had to do something to save him from that monster and I didn’t care if I went to jail for it. DALE: What’s done is done, there’s no turning back. You can either stay here and live under these conditions or you can leave. LACIE: I can’t fucking believe this, Mom, I expected you out of all people to understand. Don’t you understand? Everything I did, I did it for him! MARY: I do understand but …you should understand, we were left with no other choice other than to do the right thing for him. LACIE: And that’s all you have to say! DALE: Like I said before, you can either live with this or you can go. LACIE: I guess I’ll just have to—
(A basketball bounces into the kitchen and JASON enters the room skipping looking for his ball.)
JASON: Just came to get my ball…
(Picks up basketball and holds it.)
MARY: What did I tell you about playing ball in the house? JASON: I’m sorry …won’t do it again…sheesh. LACIE: Hi… JASON: You okay? LACIE: Yeah, I’m fine…I’m just a little sad. JASON: Why LACIE: I have to make a choice about something important. JASON: Why? LACIE: Because I just have to. JASON: Um…okay. (gets his ball) I got an idea… maybe if you play some b-ball with me…you might feel better. LACIE: That’s actually not a bad idea.
Could you spare me some validation and affection, so I can feel like a real person? I thrive on the love and attention of lovers I don’t know how to feel whole or enough by myself And admitting it is so embarrassing But wait, don’t go… Fuck it! I’m done with this life of dishonesty here comes my brutal truth-sorry if it bothers you but I’m done reigning it in for the comfort of others I’m clingy and melodramatic with emotional warts and all and even though my truth scares off everybody At least now I’m free to embrace and love the real me
I think the news of Heather Armstrong hit me hard because well, looking on the surface, her life seems almost idyllic. This is a rich white woman who has all of the resources at her disposal to help her get to a much healthier state with her mental health and I’m like WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED? WHAT THE FUCK WENT WRONG? While I could speculate why or how this happened, I won’t. What I will say is that nobody could possibly understand why she made that decision or how much suffering she was in. This made me reflect on my own journey with recovering from mental illness.
I have battled depression and anxiety since I was a teenager except I wasn’t formally diagnosed with it until after I had my third child in 2012. It’s been a not so well kept secret in my family that I continuously tried to mask to seem well, normal to everyone else. For years, I’ve mostly kept my depressive episodes to myself because more often than not when I’ve disclosed I’m depressed, I’m met with the comments: “You need to get over it , we have no time for this” or “Think about your kids” or “But you have SO MUCH to live for”. I know the people making those comments thought they were being helpful but all it did was drive me further into a spiral of shame for having no control over my brain chemistry and being depressed. It adds fire to the fuel of my inner critic who tells me during this episode, “let’s add being a failure as a mom to your thoughts about being a worthless and terrible human being”.
The Elephant
The sun is shining Everything is green and bright And yet winter feels eternal In my heart and my mind I feel a profound darkness that Seems to seep and ooze everywhere Inside of me Is this what true loneliness feels like? Will I ever get rid of what feels like my forever depression? Or do I just learn to live with the elephant that lives on my chest? That I try desperately not to wake it up Writing, exercise, friends, tv- Everything to keep it calm But no matter what The elephant always seems To wake up
In a lot of my poetry, I’ve talked about the impossible pressure I’ve had to deal with in being a mother but I don’t think I talk enough about how this was modeled for me growing up. Growing up, I saw my mother as this larger than life woman who constantly worked hard and sacrificed for her family. She worked countless hours to provide for us. She was this superwoman who at one point had 3 jobs and still managed to keep a clean house and cook dinner. I remember her sleeping a couple hours after she got home from an overnight shift at her job and waking up to walk me to school in the morning. Throughout my childhood and adolescence, I never saw my mom breakdown or cry.
me and my mami is 1988 when she was busy being superwoman
The message I received and perceived was one that in order to be a good mother, you have to be this superwoman who balances everything perfectly all the time. Being a good mother also meant being strong and resilient and if needed it was necessary to suppress emotions to continue to function. When I became a mother at 17, I had these unrealistic expectations of motherhood that I wanted to attain. And we wonder why I ended up with a diagnosis of BPD-lol. Honestly, while I’ve healed a lot from my past, I feel like it’s still necessary to share it because this isn’t just my story. It’s the story of other mothers who are still ashamed about having a mental illness and more often than not, don’t seek help and mask, mask, mask until they explode.
me with my oldest when I was 18
I’ve often talked about how my children are one of my greatest motivators for continuing to move forward with my life, to try to continue with my self improvement; but what I have failed to talk about is how my children are a major source of guilt while I’m in a major depressive episode. If I had to be honest with myself and everyone else, when I’ve been in that really dark place with my depression, I’ve had thoughts about how maybe my kids would be better off without me, how my kids deserve a better mother than me.I’m coming from a very vulnerable place talking about this. I also want to add that I haven’t been in this dark place with these thoughts since 2021. It is a fucking scary place to be in and it’s something I would never wish upon my worst enemy. Thankfully, I have always been able to pull myself out of this headspace and seek help if I need to. However, once I start to get out of this head space, guilt over how selfish I was for not thinking about kids hits me and ooof I’m off to a shame spiral that almost loops back around to another depressive episode but nowadays I’m able to get a better handle on it. In January of this year, when I had another major depressive episode, my worst thought was, “I don’t think I’m doing enough to improve the lives of me and children ” which is irrational for many reasons. Anyways, I decided then and there that I needed to go back to therapy. It was hard to make that decision but in order to prevent my depression from getting worse; it was necessary. Some part of me felt like a failure because of how many healthy coping mechanisms I have now, how much emotional support I have from family and friends, and how much therapy I’ve had; I felt like I should be able to get this on my own. However, I’d rather be safe than sorry and get the extra guidance and help I need so I can get through this depressive episode before it gets worse. It hasn’t always been this way for me. For several years, I thought that the brave thing to do was to suffer in silence and try to get through my depression on my own. Journaling consistently since 2019 has helped me get through the worst of it but looking back on those journal entries, I’m filled with grief for the version of me who thought strength and being brave meant keeping it all in. I’m filled with grief at the version of me holding it together trying to balance it all and functioning at work when inside all I wanted to do was die or disappear. However, I hold compassion for that woman because she was doing what she knew best to survive. And sure at times that looked messy and unhealthy but at the end of day what matters is that I’m still here. Here’s a poem I wrote about my depression in 2020:
Darkness
The Darkness comes back with a fierce strength and takes over my mind I want to run I want to hide But most of all I want to die
The Darkness comes back like a hurricane and wrecks my body and mind and I don’t want to work and I don’t want to talk and I don’t want to breathe
The Darkness comes back and not even the promise of love keeps it away
Fortunately for me, I learned to work through my feelings of shame in getting the help I needed to get better. My mental health improved drastically after getting a BPD diagnosis and here’s the post about that:
I’m very fortunate that my meds, my therapy, and the strict routine and consistency I now have in my life has improved my mental health so much, my depressive episode and low moods are milder and my quality of life has gotten so much better. I know that even in 2023,there is still so much pressure on mothers to be superwomen, to be “brave” and fight their battles alone but it doesn’t have to be this way. I hope that any mother out there struggling with depression/mental illness who might happen upon my blog post understands that they don’t have to fight this battle alone. In this journey, it is important to understand that being brave can also be taking the first step to seeking out the help you need to get healthier. I’m lucky to have found my own village ( my support system, my therapists, my writing community) to improve the quality of my life; my hope is that other mothers find their own village as well to lead healthier and happier lives.
me and my youngest in May of this year-I’m way more present in and my other sons lives after getting the help I needed
I want to end this post with a poem I wrote in February of this year:
The Finish Line
I have yet to cross the finish line of my uprising, my marathon of healing- Sometimes I stumble and fall for a few days, a few weeks. a month when life gets overwhelming I dissociate and drive around aimlessly Forget about all the progress I made- but always get up and do the best I can Sometimes I mask well enough to fool the people in my life Sometimes, it’s not enough and they start asking what’s wrong but somehow I always manage to get back to a place where I move forward and evolve- listen to my therapist- healing isn’t linear-healing is messy and just because I stumble sometimes, it doesn’t mean I can’t cross the finish line
Below are some resources that helped me along my journey:
this was incredible helpful in explaining how unhealed trauma affected me
this book helped explain how ACE (adverse childhood experiences) are linked to different kinds of diseases
this memoir was the first that really gave me hope that I could recover from BPD
if you’re Latine/Latinx, I highly recommend this book, it validated a lot of experience as an immigrant woman and some of the racial trauma I experienced
DBT Therapy has been instrumental in my recovery
Back from the Borderline podcast episodes that have really helped me
One thing I want to add about the above resources I have shared is that I take notes from the books/podcast episodes . I jot down certain phrases, concepts, or quotes that resonate with me and/or I find helpful. I take notes on sticky notes and have a notebook where I taped them later in a notebook where I write about it as to why I related to it or why it was helpful. This method of mine works for me in finding understanding the book better or validating my experience. You don’t have to do this at all, of course. It’s just what I found helpful. Also, if you want more books or resources, feel free to contact me:
ahora recién reconoces tu error y me pides disculpas ahora recién decides enfrentar el dolor que generaste al negar la existencia de nuestro hijo ahora recién quieres desempeñar tu papel de padre después de tu desgraciada ausencia de tres años esperando que te perdone como si nada paso lo siento, pero vete de aquí– el no necesita a un infeliz en su vida que nunca pudo dar la cara por el que prefiero esconderlo y olvidarlo por tres años que quiere usarlo para limpiar su conciencia para sentirse mejor
The princess and the queen live within me And they each serve a purpose the princess cares about the men in her life She’s soft and submissive, kind and generous She’ll do anything for love, she’s loyal But sometimes the princess get taken advantage of And the queen steps in The queen is determined, she is strong and opinionated And ambitchous and bossy She’ll do anything to protect herself and her kids and gives zero fucks about anyone else And lately I’m trying to find a perfect balance of embracing these two beings who live within me
Life on the BPD 