It’s Broke, But I Can’t Fix It.

I like order in my life, things to be clean, tidy and in their place. Everything to be exactly where it should be. I hate it when things are a mess, it makes me think of the inner confusion within my head and the inability to see past all the barriers that are in my way. When I am in crisis I don’t just like order… I NEED it!

I want to be able to organise the jumble in my brain but to do that I need to understand it!

I want to be able to get through this stage in my life, the past 5 years have been complete hell treading the balance between psychosis, depression and every so often a slight glimmer of hope.

Sometimes I get so excited during my recovery journey that I may actually start to improve and change the parts of me that need to be changed to be ‘accepted’ as ‘normal.’

But then I get hit with this immense panic and I feel like I am drowning. My heart races, my hands get clammy and I feel like I cannot breathe… Why? Because with out BPD who the hell am I?

BPD has become my sole identity – my reason for avoidance, for protecting myself from the real world, from disconnecting from reality and living in my own thoughts. The idea that  by recovering from this condition (to be honest I am still not sure that’s possible!) I will have to face the real world, every day, every long hard demanding day, seems impossible and unbearable and even more so, out of reach!

I put on a brave face, every single day, and part of that act comes this funny, weird, strange girl that makes people laugh because she says silly things or acts in a funny way. I fear that recovery will strip not only the bad or unhelpful things; the self harm, erratic mood swings, lack of social confidence and emotional regulation etc but will chip away at the positive ways I have learnt to help me cope.

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