Story #38

I was diagnosed with BPD over six years ago. My life has always been one of torment, in my own mind. I did not have a happy childhood. I was always being pushed away, neglected, ignored, and never felt loved. Nothing I have ever done has been good enough. I always felt there was something different with me, I have always been attached to someone or something. When a friend would go on vacation, I felt abandoned. The only time that I ever felt I belonged anywhere growing up was when I was smoking pot. My "friends" accepted me the way I was. They never judged me.

When I was seventeen I learned the power I could hold with a man by having sex with them. I have never had a relationship other than a sexual one, though for me they were always more than that. I ended up having twin daughters when I was eighteen. I have been trying to raise my daughters the best that I can, as I am raising them with very little help from anyone. They are the only ones that I have ever felt that have truly loved me, a love that I don't feel I deserve. All I have ever wanted was to be loved and to belong.

When I was eight, I wanted to die. I was thinking about suicide before I knew what it was. I started cutting when I was nine. A little slice here and there, nothing ever major. When I was sixteen I looked forward to getting my drivers license so I could run the car into a support column on the highway, or into a semi truck. I drove very recklessly, I didn't want it to be an obvious suicide. When I was in my early twenties I started overdosing and cutting again. The only thing that made me make the phone calls when I felt myself slipping away was the thought of what my suicide would do to my daughters. Even now as I sit here and write this, I want to stop the pain. However, there is only one way that I know will stop the pain for me. Medications only work for a while, and I am getting tired of taking all the medications that I do. I am tired of changing meds every time that I build up a tolerance to them. Sometimes I think I am doing more damage to my girls by exposing them to the violence of my mood swings. I have never hit my daughters, but I never know when I will no longer be able to walk away when I am angry. The anger I feel just boils over sometimes, and I do not know why, or when it will do that. Sometimes I get to the point that all I see is red. I am tired of always yelling and wanting to hurt myself and others. I am tired. I am tired of everything, of living, of the pain. I am not sure how much longer I can use the thought of my daughters growing up with a mother that killed herself, to keep myself from doing it. All I want is for the pain to stop.

No one around me seems to understand what I am going through, no matter what I try to help them understand. No one around me seems to want to help. I don't know how much longer I can go on like this. My last attempt was a very serious one, and I know that my next one will be a successful one. I am at the end of my rope and don't know how much longer I can hang on. Something is going to have to give. All I have ever wanted was someone to love me and take care of me when I need to be. Being hospitalized is no longer an option for me. I cannot take my girls with me when I am in the hospital, and I have no one to help me with them. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I can't stand the pain much longer. I don't know what to do anymore, and don't have anyone I can turn to that can understand and help. I know that I have to fight through this down time, and that tomorrow will be another day, I am no longer sure I want to make it to that day. Even in the present, I live in the past. I cannot comprehend the future. I live day to day, sometimes minute to minute, and right now second to second. I have learned to live life one day at a time, and the future for me is what lies ahead in the vastness of the dark tunnel ahead of me. Every time that I think that I see a light at the end of the tunnel, it ends up being a glimmer of false hope that quickly goes out when I get so close that I can feel something besides the loneliness and pain. Hopefully one day soon I will find the help I need to get out of the tunnel and into the light. The walls of the tunnel are starting to collapse onto me, and I am not sure if I will be able to get out before the tunnel collapses completely. Right now I just exists, I want very much to live, but don't know how.