Experience of BPD sufferers and their families*
A Day in the Life of a BPD Sufferer*
Mornings are the worse part of the day. I always wake up anxious. I always wake up alone. What if no one cares about me? Would anyone even know if I got sick or died? How long would I lie on the floor dead or disabled before I am found? What if I am never found?
Why do I deserve to be treated this way? I gave what I could. As a daughter, a sister, a mother and a wife. Where are they now? They are all happy and enjoying their lives and forgetting about me. Those bastards!!! They don’t even think about me. They don’t care about me. So I won’t care about them. They are ungrateful. I would have been better off if I never let them in my life. I hate them.
Well I am not going to take this lying down. It is time for me to take care of me!! And I will do it better than my worthless so-called family. To hell with them!!! I will find people that like me, that respect me and value me.
How will I get their attention? How can I catch people’s eyes? Perhaps I will get a tattoo today. One that provokes others to talk to me. One that angers those who don’t like me. One that is highly visible and outrageous. Maybe I need some new clothes? Clothes that reveal. Clothes that will shock. Maybe all black. Maybe fuchsia. Maybe no underwear. Maybe I will cut my hair short. Maybe cut it all off.
Being seen is not enough. I need to be heard. Everyone needs to hear me. They need to hear my anger and my pain. They need to feel my anger and pain so that they will see how horrible they are to leave me. To abandon me. Everyone will know how horrible my family is to treat me this way. They will know how I suffer and pity me. They will save me from the vacuous vortex of being alone. And those that put me here: my so-called loved ones, will know and they will suffer.
What am I doing out here? My family has disappointed me. My family has failed me. They have abandoned me to their own selfish pursuits and I am out here trying to get the attention of strangers. How pathetic is that? I know how to attract men. It’s easy. Just smile, flirt and let them touch me. But they leave when they are done. They don’t stay. They don’t care. They just want what they want. Just like my family. At first I believe them – that they really like me, want me, need me. But when they are done getting what they want, they always leave.
Women are no different. I tell them they are pretty. I tell them they are thin. I tell them they are smart. I listen to their stories. And then they leave too. They tell me that they love me. They tell me that they care. I start to believe them. I start to trust them. I start to rely on them. But then they disappear when their man or their children calls and once again I am left alone. They don’t answer their phones or their emails when I need them to. They put themselves first. Always.
This is so painful. I have tools for the pain. I have my wine. I have my pills. And I have my blade. First the wine. Maybe things will feel better after I take the edge off.
I wonder what they would do if they found out I was hurt, or dead, after the fact. Would they even notice? Would they care? Let’s find out. I will call my son. Oh surprise he’s not picking up his phone. He’s probably screening me out.
“Jason? Jason. Jason this is your mother. Pick up if you are in there. Is there anyone in there? Jason I really need to speak to you.”
Let’s see if he calls back.
It’s been 15 minutes and he hasn’t called back. Let me call one more time.
“Jason this is your mother. Remember me? I need to speak to you. Don’t you know you have a mother?”
He’s not going to call back. I have ungrateful children. I need to forget that I had them. Time for the heavy duty tools. Time for the pills.
This is what my family has done to me. They don’t care. I am all alone. Nobody cares. You want to hurt me I will hurt myself. Why does cutting hurt and feel good at the same time?
I am falling asleep now. I am not sure if I will wake up. I am not sure I care.
Mornings are the worse part of the day. I always wake up anxious. I always wake up alone. What if no one cares about me? Would anyone even know if I got sick or died? How long would I lie on the floor dead or disabled before I am found? What if I am never found?
Why do I deserve to be treated this way? I gave what I could. As a daughter, a sister, a mother and a wife. Where are they now? They are all happy and enjoying their lives and forgetting about me. Those bastards!!! They don’t even think about me. They don’t care about me. So I won’t care about them. They are ungrateful. I would have been better off if I never let them in my life. I hate them.
Well I am not going to take this lying down. It is time for me to take care of me!! And I will do it better than my worthless so-called family. To hell with them!!! I will find people that like me, that respect me and value me.
How will I get their attention? How can I catch people’s eyes? Perhaps I will get a tattoo today. One that provokes others to talk to me. One that angers those who don’t like me. One that is highly visible and outrageous. Maybe I need some new clothes? Clothes that reveal. Clothes that will shock. Maybe all black. Maybe fuchsia. Maybe no underwear. Maybe I will cut my hair short. Maybe cut it all off.
Being seen is not enough. I need to be heard. Everyone needs to hear me. They need to hear my anger and my pain. They need to feel my anger and pain so that they will see how horrible they are to leave me. To abandon me. Everyone will know how horrible my family is to treat me this way. They will know how I suffer and pity me. They will save me from the vacuous vortex of being alone. And those that put me here: my so-called loved ones, will know and they will suffer.
What am I doing out here? My family has disappointed me. My family has failed me. They have abandoned me to their own selfish pursuits and I am out here trying to get the attention of strangers. How pathetic is that? I know how to attract men. It’s easy. Just smile, flirt and let them touch me. But they leave when they are done. They don’t stay. They don’t care. They just want what they want. Just like my family. At first I believe them – that they really like me, want me, need me. But when they are done getting what they want, they always leave.
Women are no different. I tell them they are pretty. I tell them they are thin. I tell them they are smart. I listen to their stories. And then they leave too. They tell me that they love me. They tell me that they care. I start to believe them. I start to trust them. I start to rely on them. But then they disappear when their man or their children calls and once again I am left alone. They don’t answer their phones or their emails when I need them to. They put themselves first. Always.
This is so painful. I have tools for the pain. I have my wine. I have my pills. And I have my blade. First the wine. Maybe things will feel better after I take the edge off.
I wonder what they would do if they found out I was hurt, or dead, after the fact. Would they even notice? Would they care? Let’s find out. I will call my son. Oh surprise he’s not picking up his phone. He’s probably screening me out.
“Jason? Jason. Jason this is your mother. Pick up if you are in there. Is there anyone in there? Jason I really need to speak to you.”
Let’s see if he calls back.
It’s been 15 minutes and he hasn’t called back. Let me call one more time.
“Jason this is your mother. Remember me? I need to speak to you. Don’t you know you have a mother?”
He’s not going to call back. I have ungrateful children. I need to forget that I had them. Time for the heavy duty tools. Time for the pills.
This is what my family has done to me. They don’t care. I am all alone. Nobody cares. You want to hurt me I will hurt myself. Why does cutting hurt and feel good at the same time?
I am falling asleep now. I am not sure if I will wake up. I am not sure I care.