To my knowledge nothing overly traumatic has ever happened to me; I've just always been very sensitive to people's words and actions. I constantly struggled to hide my emotions as they were seen as a weakness by those around me and by myself as well.
From highschool on, I had a few disastrous friendships with people who were later diagnosed as very bipolar and I eventually began to wonder if I, too, wasn't bipolar - but many of the symptoms didn't fit the bill. That's when I began to read about BPD and everything seemed to click. I can see that my whole life I've depended on other people to make me happy. It's as if I never knew how to generate my own happiness. Even as a kid I preferred if I could play with my cousins or get my sister to go on adventures with me - which is at odds with my usual shyness and dislike of and anxiety toward social situations.
As it is I really only have a couple of close friends - two that for sure I can count on for anything but both live far away right now. I've always been slow to make friends - and very picky, too. I don't put up with any kind of sh*t. ;) I've only had a handful of relationships, only one of which (so far) was any good - she is now one of my two best friends though we've long since broken up. I'm currently in the middle of a convoluted sort-of-breakup, "let's be friends for awhile first" sort of deal and it's become long-distance. My need for attention and happiness from this person has been pushing her away. I'm afraid that I will never find another amazing person like her so I am afraid to give up. But I am miserable going weeks between phone calls- I am miserable pinning my happiness on her and am afraid that I won't get better unless I detatch from her and learn to be happy on my own.
What a mess.
This relationship is mirroring a previous one that was very brief and disastrous. I feel so defeated - I am horrible at failure. When I fail something, I give up and never try again. It took me YEARS to learn to ride a bike. YEARS to learn to swim. I went years stopping trying to ski as a kid - and I love to do all these things now, once I DID learn to do them. But it has carried over to my adult life. I can't drive. I don't like looking for jobs or places to live. I don't try making friends in person.
The worst thing is I no longer do what I am most talented at: art. I'm 'gifted' with an art ability and I rarely use it. I went to college for graphic design, thinking that applied art would be a surefire way to make money and survive long enough to make REAL art. I'm lucky in that I do currently have a graphic design job that is socially un-demanding. But with this relationship falling apart and low self esteem in general I feel so empty over this job.
All my money goes toward repaying student loans. I feel I cannot afford to move out on my own and honestly don't feel motivated enough to do so. I am so uninspired by food that though I can normally eat like a bottomless pit (and yeah, I'm a twig) it is just 'easier' to go without eating even though I know it's unhealthy. (it doesn't help I can't eat glutens, rice, corn, soy, or caesin - limiting my diet to foods I HAVE to prepare - and I hate cooking).
Oddly, I am at my best in a crisis. I do not create them of course, but if someone is having a rough time of it, or if someone's place burned down, or if someone had to go to the hospital -- boy, I'm right there and able to help. It's like suddenly all the saddness falls off and I'm functioning as a support structure for those who need it. If someone I care about is sad or depressed, I am suddenly just fine and I'm saying all these constructive and positive things. I love that I can help. But when I am no longer needed, I fall apart again. And I can never hear my own advice.
I see I have forgotten how to be happy, if I ever knew how to begin with. I try SO hard to be optimistic and to think positive thoughts and to go with the flow. But my mind is a machine, endlessly thinking thoughts that progressively get darker and darker and I can't stop it. Nothing keeps my mind busy enough. I know I do it but I can't stop it - it's like it's posessed. I can be optimistic one moment then one niggling thought worms in and the cycle begins until I'm crying so hard I choke.
I spiritually don't believe in suicide so I've never attempted it though I daydream about it. 'What if i was just lazy about watching for traffic as I cross the street? What if I slipped and fell off this trail and down this cliff?' Things that may not actually kill me but could. Or maybe more importantly, they'd injure me enough to garner some attention. I fantasise that I could get enough attention this way that people would then begin to see what's good about me.
And then I argue with myself - no, I'd never actually do this. It's not healthy and people would see through it. But it's there, tempting me all the time.
I write lists of what I'm good at, what's good about me. I like to think I am a pretty decent human being but I'm just so broken. I'm at work and I am so glad I have my own space because I just start crying. "I sunburnt my eyelids this weekend," I say. Or I cover it with a fierce yawn.
It's amazing how one tiny thing can actually perk me up. I feel like a warrior in life - I can do it! I can change my thoughts and ways! I will start doing pushups and eating more! Lookit- I almost drew in my sketchbook today! :D And I'll truck on for a few days, slowly winding back down into blah. It's like I'm slogging through mental tar. And that's just it - I feel every day, each painful hour creeps by like a funeral procession. Time will not move faster for me.
I WANT to be happy. I don't want to depend on others for that happiness. Do I have to cut off everyone in order to learn to do that?
I'm also poor and cannot afford medical help at all. I'm going to talk to my mom about all of this soon - I do quite well with talking to people about things. If I could I would talk to my best friend every day about things. I fear, though, that it means I'm dependant on her for some form of mental guidance and that I should be able to figure out things on my own. I hate second guessing myself. Also, I am staunchly against using medications for myself (if it works for others, that's fantastic but it's just not part of who I am, for me). So I worry that if I do indeed have a disorder that can be logically treated that I sabotage myself by denying medication and making things rougher for myself.
That's if I ever get around to seeing a professional. My family is very... well, we're not anti-doctors by any means, but we tend to be pretty self-help oriented for non-life threatening things. This can be good and really bad. :\
So, no real point other than to kind of let loose some of what I'm feeling as a way of messy introduction.