The Original Runaway Heart

Dear, Former friend My wedding is drawing nearer, and it hurts that you've become insistent on being my enemy. You were supposed to be my maid of honor, not that you have much of that lately. My heart hurts. We've been through so much in the last several years that we've been friends. misguided relationships, career advice, parenting failures, heartache... you name it. You were there to help me dye my hair during my mental breakdowns, there to help me roll a doobie when my stress levels were out of control, there to help me clean up the vomit when I drank too quickly at beer pong ( let's not forget, I still won!) You held me when I sobbed over my decision to sign over my custody and parental rights to my daughter. You told me how brave, and selfless I was for being able to give her a better family, a better home than I was able to at that time. You sympathized with me when my mother and I fought over how I needed to be more consistent in my sons life while my mental he

Often times I struggle to remember simple facts of life, for example : Fact - it's impossible to lick your own ear while it is still attached to your head. I struggle with anxiety-induced paranoia. I often have difficulties with separating my paranoia from reality. When I was young, I used to think that everyone thought there was someone watching them from just beyond the sight of their bedroom window when they dressed. I used to think that there was someone standing just out of my eyesight at all times, with binoculars, sometimes even looking at me through the walls of my room. I used to think that my radio could record every thought that I had, every whisper, I thought my teddy bears were staring at me, watching me, silently judging. It didn't help that when I'd come home from school, my radio and teddy bears were out of place. Little did I know, my younger sister would come into my room and play. All my life I believed that there were cameras in the bathroom, recording

I am restless. I am panicked, and anxious. I await your messages, your voice clips, a call... I said I wouldn't be clingy, but I am. I've already become co-dependant, and I haven't even officially met you yet. A million frantic, panicked thoughts rush through my head, keeping me awake. Active 14 hours ago. Where are you? I cried myself to sleep last night, angry at the situation. I'm not seeing you today, we have to wait only a few more, and then we can spend a week together... We can be happy together. I am gasping for air, the thoughts don't want to shut up and they're going... going... going... faster and faster and faster, and they just don't want to shut up. They don't want to stop. Oh, god... make this stop. What if he abandons me? What if I don't hear from him today? What if he slowly stops coming online, stops calling, stops texting me? What if I'm desperately clinging to Monday like a life raft, only for it to float on

Vast darkness, looming coldness... I was suffocating. The weight of a thousand lifetimes, a million regrets, pressed down on my shoulders, I couldn't stand. There were times when it felt as if I was all alone in the universe, beside myself in my darkness, in my misery. It felt like my anxiety was a hot, blazing sun... and the world was spinning faster and faster, threatening to throw me off the axis, heading for the fiery inferno.... I felt helpless, trapped. I felt as if time was dragging on, yet life was passing me by. I wasted hours, days, weeks, months.... I wasted so much of my life, because I had believed I was destined to suffer. I'm awake now.... my eyes are opened, the cool chill stings my face, but it doesn't swallow me. I can breathe  I open my eyes, and though the edges are blurred, out of focus, I see that it isn't dark.... there's color.... so much color that I want to cry out in wonder. How did I not see this before? I'm standing, a l

I don't remember the last time I ate properly. I haven't had a proper meal in days... and it's not that I don't have food at home, or the means to cook it.... I do, but I can't be bothered. It's not that I'm deliberately trying to starve myself again, I just don't have the energy to take care of myself anymore. I'm not okay. My hair is caked in grease, and while I've taken to having a lot of bubble baths lately, I just sit in the water, spacing out at the wall, not really properly caring for myself. I don't remember the last time I ran a brush through my hair, besides today when my son offered to brush my hair for me to try to help me feel beautiful again. I wake up each morning, stomach rumbling and chewing on itself, my body feels heavy, as if it too has given up. Everything aches. My shoulders feel as if they've been carying the weight of the world on them, my throat feels coarse and dry like sandpaper and it hurts to breathe.

There's a lot of things that Doctors and mental health care professionals won't tell you about Borderline Personality Disoder... There's a lot of stigma, and a lot of stereotype, as well as horrible, heartbreaking amount of ignorance. I can't speak for everyone, but I will speak for myself, from my experiences with this misunderstood mental illness. SO many people assume that BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) is the band-aid diagnosis, that if a Psychiatrist runs a series of evaluations, and can't come to a full diagnosis of a clearly mentally ill patient, they'll just slap the good ol' BPD label on their chart.  In my experience, that couldn't be farther from the truth. I knew something was... unique about me, even in my youth. I knew that I reacted to stress faster, and more intense than my peers, I felt emotions on such an intense high, or I went so numb that I felt nothing at all. I was different, out of place... I felt so alien. I had