If you would look at my high school record, it would say I have been stood down twice for a whole week. The first time for having formed a “destructive friendship” with a girl who, like me, was a self-harmer. It will not mention that I was introduced to this girl by my guidance counselor with the words: “I have another girl here that cuts, maybe you two could be friends and help each other”. It will not mention our counselor facilitated our introduction and it will also not mention he knew both of us were not “in-recovery”, whatever that means.
I could have seen this train-wreck coming from miles ahead, but my “counselor” (who was merely a social studies teacher, doing a little bit of psychological experimenting on the side) was genuinely disappointed when he found out we were indulging in our self-destructiveness, rather than being the textbook 12 step recovering addicts he had hoped us to be.
The second time I was stood down was for having a crafts’ knife on me. Everyone was allowed to have those at school, except for me, since I had a history of self-harm. The thing is, no-one told me this, or I would have hidden it better. So after having been back at school for just one week, they sent me home again. I thought detention would have been more appropriate, but welcomed the holiday nonetheless.
On the last page of my school record it will say I dropped out, and left school voluntarily. The truth is I was given the choice between being expelled for setting a bad example at school (and thereby making university entrance nearly impossible) or signing myself out. I chose the latter.
I was the typical borderliner-in-the-making.
If you would look at my medical records from the various public mental health services I was sent to, it would make interesting reading. It seems every shrink had his favorite flavor of the month when it came to diagnosing. It started with “Generalized Anxiety Disorder”. Then came the all-encompassing “Major Depressive Disorder”. To see if I was psychotic as well, I was put on a course of anti-psychotics. If they made me “better” then clearly I was psychotic, but to no avail, I was still the same obnoxious, defiant, manipulative, almost-old-enough-to-warrant-the-dreaded-borderline-label GI. And then when I did reach the age, a big fat “BPD” (Borderline Personality Disorder) was stamped across my file, relieving every mental health worker from having to try to help me. After all, BPD is incurable.
It seems that once you have the borderline label, you have become this whole new species. The receptionist at the mental health service no longer looks at you with a smile, but instead looks right through you, telling you without words she thinks you’re a waste of resources. Psychologists are pulled from your case, because talking won’t help the incurable. No more weekly sessions, or therapies, just a once-every-three-months visit to a psychiatrist for meds that will keep you doped up enough to keep you from seriously harming yourself. If you complain you still feel like crap, your daily dose is upped or a new drug is added to your tropical cocktail of psychotropics. If you complain the meds are not working and you want to stop because they make you feel like a zombie, you’re defying authority, and illegible notes will be added to your file about how your BPD traits are getting worse.
Nobody told me I had BPD attached to my forehead, until I was about 20. It had been in my file since my teen years, but there was never a “hi, you have a borderline personality” until I went to see my current therapist, Jay. When I asked him whether he thought I was a borderliner or not, he gave the classic “Why is it important for you to know that?” “What significance does knowing have for you?” I have found out through years of being a patient, that this is therapist speak for “yes”.
Borderline Personality Disorder. It’s got its own little subheading in the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorder), every shrink’s bible. Apparently there used to be only two types of personality disorders: Neurotic Personality Disorder and Psychotic Personality Disorder. But this left a whole cluster of crazy people without a label, even though they were clearly not as functional as those that call themselves normal. So all exhibited symptoms of this group of people came to be known as a Borderline Personality Disorder, not quite neurotic, not quite psychotic, but definitely insane. There are nine so-called symptoms, and if you tick at least five, consider yourself a winner.
Borderline Checklist
1. Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment. [Not including suicidal or self-mutilating behavior covered in Criterion 5] It’s up to your shrink to decide what “frantic” is. No-one likes being abandoned. That’s how we’re programmed in my opinion.
2. A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation. Sometimes we hate our partners, most of the time we love them. Where does a relationship become intense and unstable, and when are we just making our way through the world, trying to find our mate.
3. Identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self. Yeah, that was me. Once. Like about 99% of adolescents.
4. Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., promiscuous sex, eating disorders, binge eating, substance abuse, reckless driving). [Again, not including suicidal or self-mutilating behavior covered in Criterion 5] Show me a person who hasn’t indulged in any of those.
5. Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, threats, or self-mutilating behavior such as cutting, interfering with the healing of scars (excoriation) or picking at oneself. Ok, I guess this one applies to me. That’s one out of nine.
6. Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days). I definitely struggle with this. Once a month. Every month.
7. Chronic feelings of emptiness, worthlessness. Don’t we all feel like this during certain periods of our life?
8. Inappropriate anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights). I guess I’m a little intense, although I wouldn’t say I have an anger problem, and I’ve definitely never been in a fistfight.
9. Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation, delusions or severe dissociative symptoms. I’m not even going to try to understand what that means.
Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borderline_personality_disorder
I find the BPD label highly useless. Most of these symptoms are exhibited by most people in some degree. It’s up to your doctor to decide whether you’re crazy enough to be awarded the honorary title of borderliner.
I have found life as a borderliner difficult when it comes to dealing with health professionals simply because of the stigma attached to it. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I reckon life is more intense, with higher highs and lower lows than most people experience life. My loving husband always jokes he’d be bored to death if he’d married a “normal” woman.
My name is Gracefully Insane and from time to time I’ll share my disordered thoughts here.
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