Emergency Exit

Sometimes I wish there was an “emergency exit” door on my life, during those situations when its awkward, uncomfortable or when I know that my behavior will have consequences. Last night was a perfect night for an emergency exit door. Some times I look for the exit door in my relationships. If I can’t find out I’ll make one or cause the other person to push me out of the door.

I guess I look for the exit when my emotions get too much for me. When I feel that I am losing or when I don’t want to deal with the issues at hand. Isn’t it easier just to walk out of that exit door than to have to look at those issues at hand?

Yeah, it’s a cop-out and a lot of people just walk out of the exit door of your life and don’t look back.emergency exit, sassycat3000, borderline personbality disorder, mental illness, blog for mental health awareness, latina sexblogger, a to z challenge

Being a borderline, my emotions are up & down and back & forth. My hand on the exit door handle, threatening to leave the person whom I wish most to connect with. The fear of being smothered mixed with the fear of losing my autonomy pushes me to the door every time. There were a few times that I walked out of the exit door of someone’s life, stood on the other side of the door frantically pulling on the handle attempting to re-enter from the emergency exit. Its impossible and can’t be done. I stand there completely alone, empty and wanting to feel something. Anything to remove the pain of my stupid mistake. Never meaning to hurt the one I love, but I did. Now I’m hurting as well. Now wtf?!

If you happen to fall in love with a Borderline, please know that it’s not you, its them. You need rules. You need to always be communicating with them and breaking everything down so that they understand as if they were a child, but never ever sound condescending. This will push them quicker than ice cream melting on a 90 degree summer day.

Here I stand looking at the emergency exit door. Just looking at it. Considering all my options. I’m not ready to walk through the door just yet.

Alcohol [W4W61]

April is Alcohol Awareness Month. So far I have been out drinking twice this month. I was planning on drinking tonight as well.April is Alcohol Awareness Month

Charlie text me asking if I was coming to watch him shoot darts again tonight. I was busy at work, didn’t text him back right away. I had felt exhaustion early this morning, so I had taken a nap for about 2 hours. I was behind on my chores. I needed to make supper. My guilt won’t allow me to leave the house unless my chores are done & as long as I have made food to eat, warm up.

I changed my clothes and headed out the door. I knew Charlie, really just wanted me there to keep him company in a strange place. The same as I use him in his place. I know Charlie & I use each other for emotional support, selfishness needs and to understand each others childhood issues. He is an alcoholic, drug addict, gambler and sex addict. He has completely fallen off the wagon and is being dragged by it.

I walked inside our place. He’s playing the jukebox. I walk up to him and he slurs his words. He’s in slow motion. He whispers to me that he has taken two Xanax. One Xanax will knock me out for about 10 hours. I hate them things. I was given a bottle when I was first diagnosed with PTSD resulting from my motorcycle accident. I couldn’t sleep, I was afraid to leave the house, panic attacks. When I would take them I felt slow and numb. Having BPD I was not used to feeling. It freaks me out, I feel like I’m a zombie. Not to mention the lack of a sex drive. I wanted sex, but the desire, the urge was gone. No thank you. I tossed them in the trash. Never took Xanax again.

Charlie took two. TWO. Whole ones. In addition to the booze he was drinking. He had text me around 3pm. It was 5:30 and he was already slurring and could hardly walk.

jukeboxHe dragged me around the floor dancing to Mexican music, which he loves when he’s reliving or remembering his childhood trauma. Since he’s been staying with his mother, I could see his triggers in neon lights in his head. He was bouncing from his different friends. I sat at the table in the corner. After I got totally irritated with the bartender who didn’t take my order. I had my money in my hand when he made eye contact with me, but walked to the other side of the bar. I looked other there and watched him serve the others, but not me. I briefly thought that Charlie might have told him not to serve me, but I don’t think Charlie would do that to me. I watched Charlie stumble to the bathroom and I thought to myself “Leave! Leave now. You don’t need this. You are not his babysitter.”

When he came out of the bathroom, he walked over to the end of the bar. I heard a loud thud. I couldn’t see at first. I stood up and looked in Charlie’s direction. I looked at the rest of the drunks who were sitting at the bar stand up to look where the noise came from. A few of them turned at looked at me, I decided at that moment I was leaving. I felt like I was having a heart attack. My chest hurt to breath and I wanted to cry. I seen pieces of my childhood when Charlie on the floor. I won’t cry in public, Charlie and the bartender turned to look at me as I walked past them. I smiled at Charlie. He probably thought I was headed to the bathroom, but I walked out the back door of the bar.

I sat in my car, thinking. How will you feel if this is the time he dies? Can you live with yourself knowing you left him like that? I know what happens to addicts if they do not get sober. They die, go insane, end up in prison. Death has tried to take him a few times, he always manages to come back from the brink. Prison, well he will find out at the end of the month if he goes to prison (for two years). My fear is that he will end up dead, falling and busting open his skull once again.

Seeing Charlie tonight breaks my heart to see him in such pain, to see him vulnerable to his actions.

About an hour after I was home & writing the above, my phone rang. It was him. Crying & whining on the phone about how I left him, how he loved me, how sorry he was and how the bar he was at wanted to kick him out for being obnoxious. He pleaded with me to come and bring him my darts because he had to use bar darts. My heart ached, only because I didn’t want anything more to happen to him. I drove there only to see him, stumbling around, itching for a fight, being annoyed with other people. He didn’t want to be touched by the other guys in the bar. I could hug him, caress his face but when ever a man got to close he became on edge. His friends were telling me about the fight he had the night before, how he is starting to spiral once again. It’s the alcohol. His mother is an alcoholic, suffers from mental illness and drug addiction. He father died from alcoholism. He father had been estranged from everyone in his family. I told Charlie, that’s his future. He needs help. I can’t force him, I know that. I haven’t been there when he has been beaten & broken. I have been there to help balance out his demons with mine. My fear is that if he dies as a result of the alcohol, a part of me will die with him. Because I often thought if I could understand some of his demons then I can understand mine.

alcohol awareness month

Over time, excessive alcohol use, both in the form of heavy drinking or binge drinking, can lead to numerous health problems, chronic diseases, neurological impairments and social problems, including but not limited to:

    • Dementia, stroke and neuropathy
    • Cardiovascular problems, including myocardial infarction, cardiomyopathy, atrial fibrillation and hypertension
    • Psychiatric problems, including depression, anxiety, and suicide
    • Social problems, including unemployment, lost productivity, family problems, violence including child maltreatment, fights and homicide
    • Unintentional injuries, such as motor-vehicle traffic crashes, falls, drowning, burns and firearm injuries.
    • Increased risk for many kinds of cancers, including liver, mouth, throat, larynx (voice box) and esophagus
    • Liver diseases, including fatty liver, alcoholic hepatitis, cirrhosis
    • Gastrointestinal problems, including pancreatitis and gastritis
    • Alcohol abuse or dependence – alcoholism. Facts about Alcohol

First Step is to Admit There is a Problem [BFMH2015]

It’s been a while since I have written anything personal or related to mental health. I have been busy getting back to work, stillFireball working on Spring cleaning that has now turned into Fall cleaning. However, autumn is my favorite season. Favorite season even though I spiral out of control. 

I truly don’t know what my triggers are for this down ward emotional and life spiral. I recently had an opportunity to get a better job. It’s been a year in the making. The interview went very well, the owner said he would call me within the week. I never got a phone call. I figured that I didn’t get the job. So, I did something that I haven’t done in a very long time. Then the phone call came, it was onto the next level of application. I failed. I failed. I failed. Did I really? Or did I self-sabotage my life because I was afraid that I would fail after I got the job? I’m not sure if that’s what I did. Maybe I like the option to complain about  how miserable my job is. 

The next day I was invited out-of-town to see a bar band. I was looking forward to getting out on a Friday night, chatting with bar people and drinking a few drinks. However, it didn’t work out that way. First, I stopped at my local watering hole. I spoke with the regulars there. I had two drinks of vodka cranberry. One shot of Fireball Whiskey that was bought by one of the regulars. I drank that all within an hour. Hopped in the car and drove to the other bar. I could feel the effects of the alcohol when I arrived. My friend noticed I was drunk already. 

When I go out to bars, I like to order the specials once I am familiar with whoever is serving the booze. [ALWAYS TIP YOUR BARTENDER]. I noticed that they were serving “Not my Father’s Root Beer” so I ordered one. Oh, back up a bit to the drive there. I had taken 4 ounces of rum with 28 ounces of pineapple juice mixed in a water bottle that I was sipping on in the car. Now, have you noticed the risk taking behavior? Reckless. Selfish. Careless. Never thinking about any of the consequences for my decisions.

Back to the “root beer” I drank that down. I was feeling no pain. Cocky & secure with who I am. Opposite of how I have felt about myself lately. I miss my drinking partner. Why? Because he drank more, I lived through him so that  I wouldn’t have to risk my life. Sounds selfish, doesn’t it?! I would watch his train wreck of a life, safe and secure about my life. I could tell myself “you’re not that bad.” This time I had only myself to look at. I was starting to have trouble walking, words were starting to slur. BUT I kept on drinking. I asked about the specials. Before I had left I drank down two more vodka-cranberrys. Usually  when I got like this, I would, at some point have sex with a random stranger or pick some guy up. I’m too old for that. There were no men that looked appealing to me not mention that no guys there even looked at me. I did take a photo with some random guy, just because he stood out. Would I have had sex with him? No. Too Young. 

Random StrangerThere was an anorexic looking blonde who came up to me and asked if I had any “weed.” Sorry blondie but that’s not my drug of choice. She said “you’re hot.” I was wearing cut off shorts, cut off band shirt and a flannel long sleeve with my high heel ankle boots. Hubby mentioned before I left “you look like a grunge rocker.” “Yeah, overweight gray-haired grunge rocker!!” I laughed. I had taken photos of the band, practicing with my new Nikon. Rocking to one of the cover versions of “Man in the Box” by Alice in Chains, when blondie came over to dance with me. I laughed. Danced with her until I got bored. That’s what I do, I quickly lose interest and will walk away from the scene. The next time I danced with her was when I was really feeling the buzz. Dancing to “Slither” by Velvet Revolver, the lead singer of the band jumped down between us. I was behind him, she was bending over showing her ass, he would thrust towards her and I would do that to him. I had flashbacks to my threesome experiences and stopped dancing, walked off the floor. Although I was very drunk I do remember 90% of the evening. That part I remember because of how it made me feel. I felt ugly, old, fat and unwanted. Past experiences with men were that I always was passed over for the blonde haired woman. The feeling I was looking for, I couldn’t find. I felt like I was sliding further down the hole. It was shortly after that “kick too my gut” that I left.

I wanted to go back to the place where I felt somewhat comfortable. Not only that but I wanted to beat the cops. Cops come out around midnight in that city and nail damn near every & any one. I told my friend I was leaving, she walked me to my car. I handed her my phone asked her to text my hubby to tell him I was on my way. She did. I had the rest of my rum in the car. She grabbed the bottle and started arguing with me about having it in the car with me. I screamed at her “Give it to me.” I grabbed it back and slammed it all down. I tossed the bottle at her. I remember leaving the parking lot. I lost time. I got lost. I was out in the country somewhere, northeast of where I was supposed to be. I remember passing a parked Sheriff’s suburban. It was raining and dark. I felt like I was driving forever, I kept turning left thinking that left is west. I remember looking at my speed and it was 40 mph, highway speed is 55. I looked for any sign to give me an idea of where I was. OH! SHIT! I seen one, I’m wayyyyyyy lost. I call my hubby and start telling him that I’m lost. He is so calm. I love him more than I did yesterday. He calmly asks “what do you see?” 

“NOTHING!!!! I’m on a dead-end” (so I thought) there are two factories with cars in the parking lot. I pull into a parking lot and turn around to go back the same way I came. “What are you doing?” I hear shuffling on the other end.

“I’m coming to get you!”vodkacranberry

“How can you when I don’t even know where I’m at?”

“Keep talking to me…just keep talking me. What did you see?”

“I just passed through an intersection! OHHH Menard’s on Route X!!!”

“OK…I’ll be right there…keep talking to me..”

I started to cry and SUDDENLY without warning. I puked on myself, while I was driving. “I’m done.” I yelled. I dropped the phone. I just kept vomiting. It was like an out of body experience. I could see myself as if I was looking through the window. A voice said “you’re pathetic!” I answered myself “I know, I don’t know what happened.” “Well, stop driving stupid before you kill someone!” I pulled into the Menards parking lot. Pulled my keys out of the ignition and tossed them in the backseat. I had to vomit again. I opened the car door and tossed my cookies some more. I passed out briefly with the door open. Came to thinking “close & lock the door before someone kills you.” I looked up and seen his car turn through intersection towards me. I passed out again. He startled me when he knocked on the car window. He opened the door. I couldn’t walk even through I tried. “I’m trying to stand up and walk.” 

“I know baby, I got you.” he says.

I’m tossed in his car. We leave my car there, covered in vomit. We arrive home, he unlocked the door before trying to peeling me out of the car. I blacked out again, came to when I was vomiting on the floor. Somehow I fell out of the chair onto my face onto the floor. “Here’s a towel.” He pushes the towel under my face. I feel him undressing me, warm washcloth against my skin. Blacked out.

I came to again, this time on the sofa. I got up tried to run to the bathroom. Made it. Cleaned up after myself, went back to the sofa. Passed out again. For the next 24 hours I was vomiting and could barely move. 

Am I an alcoholic? No. Not in the true sense. Sure there are a few points that I would say yes that I “have issues” with drinking. Like, sometimes I drink more than I intended too or I stay too long at the bar ’cause I’m having a good time. Sure, being hung over interferes with my family responsibilities. OH MY GOD. I just realized that I have enablers in my life! I was a bit jealous of “Charlie” because I would be there for him, he had other people to keep him from serious trouble, family obligations etc. BUT so do I! Yes, I have also put myself in harmful situations. Does that make me an alcoholic? No, but those are warning lights.

Did I drink too much in a short amount of time? Yes. I drunk all of that within 4 hours. However, I think I’ve drunk more in the same amount of time. I truly don’t know how or why my body reacted for violently this time. Could this have been alcohol poisoning? Probably. Someone mentioned to me “Maybe someone put something in your drink when you weren’t looking.” I replied “nahhh, this is all my doing.” 

Blog for Mental Health 2015What I do know is that I was so irresponsible (nothing new), reckless, depressed, full of self-pity. Then the next day the overwhelming guilt kicked in, told myself if I had “him” in my life I wouldn’t be this way now. Before I completely derail I have to reassess my triggers and get the key to those triggers. I must keep my mind & hands busy otherwise if I don’t this could happen again. I truly believe that the universe was and is watching over me. I will not make any predictions for the future. I will admit that I was selfish, lacking in self-control and reckless. I let my illness get the best of me, it dragged me down to a bottom that I never wanna see again. I’m not saying just because I have an illness that it’s my excuse for acting out. I’m saying that I didn’t take responsibility for my illness and the spiral it caused. So now what? Knowing that I am slipping into a dark place, I made an appointment with my counselor.  Sometimes we have to go back so that we can go forward. First step is to admit there is a problem and that help is needed. 

Being Robin Williams [BFMH2014]


photo credit: !efatima via photopin cc

Reading hearing about the suicide of Robin Williams, I asked myself why? How did he get to the edge of despair? And so late in life? From the first moment I seen him on Happy Days, I fantasized about being Mrs Williams one day. I found him attractive, his thick dark hair was the first thing I noticed. As he grew older I still found him handsome, even his very hairy body. I would close my eyes, trying to imagine what making breakfast together would be like.

His personality was one that always made me laugh. Then I thought I bet he is completely the opposite in his private life. That he could almost become borderline reclusive. He used the comedy as a facade to cover his insecurities. I do that to, making people laugh, showing off and drinking so that I don’t appear that socially awkward weirdo. However, after being out in a social gathering, I become emotionally drained, exhausted and sleep like a rock. It takes so much energy to put on that “act.” Worse when friends expect it, when they ask “what’s wrong with you?”

I read how wonderful he was to others, like going to visit Christopher Reeve and making him laugh. Doing shows for the soldiers during wartime. He was always “on.” He was always performing when he was out. It seemed he could never just be – him. Maybe he was when no one was looking, in the privacy of his own home. Yet sometimes spouses are more demanding, sometimes they expect a performance. I know at work I would become resentful towards my co-workers because they always wanting me to make them laugh. I, often referred to it as being the “trained monkey.”

Somehow I end up being the trained monkey. I make people laugh, my mother, co-workers, my kids, My beloved. It’s like a drug, hearing their laughter. However, I would get tired, angry, resentful and bored. I want someone to make me laugh, not a giggle but a stomach holding laugh. When people like Robin do not stop to re-energize it’s a disaster in the making. He went to rehab before he tried using again. Good choice. He was struggling with inner demons, not just depression, but others. He was addicted to a high that only he knows. I think he became tired. At 63, that’s an old age to commit suicide. I think he tried to find a healthy way to get his high, but couldn’t find one. He was used to drugs, sex, booze and laughter.  He was always giving of himself, his spirit, his being. Maybe he thought, in his mind he had nothing left to give the world and who would Robin Williams be without the ability to make people laugh, giving of himself.

Robin had hit a bottom in which he felt there were no windows or doors. I don’t look at him as a coward for taking his own life. I admire his courage, after the stupid decisions I made Sunday. I wanna live. Robin’s voices, the demons won. I truly believe he just tired of fighting those demons. We have all been there, in that darkest hour of our life. Bottom line: There are no answers. It is what it is.

Remission, Recovery or Cured

medium_330043763I have read a few blogs about BPD and a few people state that they no longer meet the criteria for being diagnosed with the disorder. I wonder, if a person is diagnosed with a mental illness, such a depression or BPD, PTSD, doesn’t that mean that person always has the illness? When there are no symptoms present isn’t that remission? If the person is showing some but not all the symptoms of the illness and working in a program to rid themselves of all the symptoms isn’t that recovery?

At what point to they completely stop their therapy? Wouldn’t they need to continue some sort of follow-up every six months or a year. Maybe have someone who can aid them when they feel close to relapsing. I just keep relating it to cancer or addiction. I remember hearing that some people stop taking their medication because they start to feel better and think they no longer need the medication. Then their life spirals out of control.

The BPD person needs to be aware of their possible triggers, so that they would not jeopardize their mental stability. There must be a lot of therapy sessions involved in order for a person to be aware of their triggers. I look back to when I went to get tested for ADHD and the psychiatrist said he thought I had some of the symptoms, but then when I went into weekly counseling sessions. The counselor kept asking me what was it about my spouse that made him different from all my other relationships. Because ppl like me, with BPD symptoms find it difficult to keep up long-lasting relationships. I just celebrated my 16th year being married to My Beloved. What makes him different from the other men?

I ask myself that a lot. Compared to the men before him, he is completing the opposite of what I was accustom to dating. He is older, wiser, more settled. Calm. Methodical. I think he is co-dependent. Just my opinion, a part of him allows me to do whatever I want. I’m spoiled. He allows certain behaviors, which the other men would have had major problems with. I don’t wanna say it’s that he lets me get away with whatever I want, but it’s how I feel. Sometimes it’s upsetting because he doesn’t put his foot down. I guess I want him to save me from myself (sometimes).

Then there is my job. I stayed at one government job for over 15 years. What was different about that job? LOL the money! No seriously, the counselor wanted me to really think about it. How was I able to keep this job for so long. Now my current job is going on 4 years now.  I read that some BPD people have difficulty maintaining employment.

I have never self harmed. I do take part in risky & reckless & impulsive behavior. Unstable self-image from time to time.

I understand there are some things that trigger me to wanna act out. Different times of the year, make me unstable-emotionally. Mostly, due to the Seasonal Affective Disorder. The only symptoms I have with SAD is social withdrawal (irl) weight gain and craving foods high carbohydrates. I know when it hits me and when it stops. So, do I take medication? Nah. I make sure that I get enough sleep, lots of exercise. Not to lose weight but to maintain and to get the good chemicals in the brain to get kick started. 

Maybe its the wording, I don’t suffer from BPD now, I’m in remission. I just wanna know what the process is that a person gets to the point with they can say “I no longer meet the criteria for BPD.”

photo credit: 5 O’ Clock Lab via photopin cc

Stigma [BFMH2014]

 Do you think the stigma against mental health is beginning to fade compared to 10 years ago?

It’s been my recent experience that there is some stigma with mental health. However, when it comes to some friends & family, it seems to be easier for them to make reasons or excuses, allowances for me to “be” the way I am. It wasn’t my fault, it’s the way my parents treated me and so on.

I still will not tell the outer circle of friends. I think if I said “oh by the way, I’m bipolar or have schizophrenia.” There might be more of a stigma with those than with BPD. My opinion is that since I’m higher functioning, seemingly well and can be the fun chick. Most seem to overlook it, like it’s no big deal.  Not to sound mean, but because I tend not to be emotionally unstable in public, people don’t seem to be bothered with me being “different.”

When I first stumbled upon this whole “mental illness” blogging category. I realized there are millions of people with a mental illness. Some suffer from mild depression to some stuff I’ve never heard of. And most people I talk to have some form of “dysfunction” to me that’s an illness. It’s like its the new cool thing to have a mental illness of some kind. Whether it’s addiction, depression, BPD, PSTD. I do think that  society might view some illness as “cooler” than others. Like having Anti-social Personality Disorder, I think that would make people feel uneasy when they fully understood it. Another is schizophrenia, I think that one fills people’s minds with the homeless person pushing the cart with foil paper on their head and talking to themselves about government plots.

I think in another 10 years, it won’t be as it is today. More education, more people talking about their stories will help to ease the current stigma of mental illness. Mental illness is just now of one those diseases, illness, sickness that pretty much everyone has. There might even be those out there who don’t even know they are sick with a mental illness.

Keep in mind the above are merely my personal opinions on the subject of mental health stigma.

Girl with a Gun


 I have grown up around guns, weapons, crime reports and photographs. Thanks to my father’s job. I shot my first gun at 15 years old while spending one summer with my inner city cousins. I married a man whose grandfather shot dinner. Rabbits, Squirrels and other edible critters. My Beloved was taught how to use guns to protect his kinfolk and if necessary provide food. My father used guns in his job for over 35 years. I’m no stranger to them. I just never felt a need for one. Now I own two of my very own. One was a gift for my birthday, a little too big (view photo gallery) and the other was for Valentine’s Day. I love my Ruger.

I decided to do a podcast, that ended up being around 30 minutes long. Discussing a few different topics regarding guns.

A summary of the podcast is as follows. My Beloved has grown up with guns, works on guns as a hobby.

  • Discussing having guns in the home with small children. Educating children about gun safety. Keeping the gun locked up, so that little children can not access them so easily.
  • NEVER trust a gun. Always assume it’s loaded.  Revolver’s are easier to see due to the cylinder verses an automatic, because the bullets are hidden in the clip.
  • We discussed the topic of “concealed carry.” You are liable for any damages. Recommendation is look into liability insurance of some kind. Or something that covers you in case of an accidental shooting, injury of an innocent person.
  • Mental Illness & gun control. Briefly touching upon the Fort Hood incident. Sandy Hook School shooting. Why would that mother have those types of guns in her home? Two guns that the government what’s to get rid of?
  • My Beloved shares his favorite guns. Model 28 Smith & Wesson.
  • We talked about going out shooting with our kids. Each one of them either own guns or truly love shooting them.
  • My Beloved talks about “paper patching.” Also, how bullets are tracked once the bullets are picked up by law enforcement at the scene of a crime.
  • Ending with a recap of guns in society.


Disclaimer: We are sharing our opinions on this subject of guns. We do not support any agency nor are we affiliated with any organization or agency.


When I went to get tested for Attention Deficit Hyper Disorder the Licensed Clinical Psychologist had told me that he thought that I had some of these symptoms but would need more sessions to get a better assessment. It only took one more session to see a pattern from childhood. He did mention that I was “very together.” No trouble with the law, no substance dependency kind of thing. It’s one reason I stopped going to therapy. I wanted to know what was wrong with me, now I can work on fixing me.

I have written a few posts about mental illness while taking part in this year’s Blog for Mental Health Project.  I’ve debated whether I should say anything at all. However, part of me thinks, there’s nothing wrong with me, ya know? I look like everyone else. I seem normal. Yet, I know there are times that I am not normal. I’ve been given excuses for my past behaviors. Oh, you’re just passionate, you’re rebellious and you’re just saying what everyone is thinking. And so on.

Here are a few quotes from a few websites that I like the way it describes Borderline Personality Disorder.

…that centers on the inability to manage emotions effectively.  The disorder occurs in the context of relationships:  sometimes all relationships are affected, sometimes only one….

…While some persons with BPD are high functioning in certain settings, their private lives may be in turmoil. Other disorders, such as depression, anxiety disorders, eating disorders, substance abuse and other personality disorders. can often exist along with BPD. National Education Alliance Borderline Personality Disorder

Most people who have Borderline Personality Disorder suffer from:

  • Problems regulating their emotions and thoughts
  • Impulsive and sometimes reckless behavior
  • Unstable relationships

To be diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, a person must experience at least five of the following symptoms:

  1. Fear of abandonment or rejection – for me this isn’t so much a problem. I do not fear abandonment or rejection with my spouse. However, others in my life I do feel that they will leave me or reject me. I used to joke about the idea of me having the “fear of rejection” prior to my knowledge that I have this illness. I look back and did some really crazy things to keep people (especially men) in my life. I would do some really crazy shit. I sometimes try to control the other person’s leaving, by pushing them harder to leave. So I can deal with the loss of them in my time.
  2. Unstable or changing relationships – Looking back people tend not to stay long periods in my life. I push them along, quickly. There are few that have stayed in my life over 20 years, however the key is not to be on constant contact with them. My friendships/relationships would spiral into a push-pull relationship. I would push and push and push a man to the edge of his sanity. Just as he was about to fall off the edge of the cliff I will pull him back. I would use anything I could to keep him with me. Even when I knew that we were never meant to be together. I don’t have many female friends. It’s not that I don’t want a group of women that I can hang with its because of insecurities on either or both sides. I can only fit into their mold for so long before I begin to undone.
  3. Unstable self-image; struggles with identity or sense of self – I blame my parents for this. My issues with my body and who I am as a person are up & down. I was always told about “fat” people. Don’t get fat like your mother. No one wants you you’re fat. I heard this from different people in my life as I was growing up & when I got divorced. I don’t have a true sense of who I am. I tend to “fit” in with a group as best I can. I can only think of it as a girdle. Everything is held into place, until I get home and that’s when I let it all hang out. My mother taught me to “use” my assets to get what I want & need. So, my body is really my selling point. Since my main asset is no longer at its prime. I  hit a “mental pothole.”  That’s when I will do whatever I need to do to get the weight off. It can be illegal drugs, weight loss pills, laxatives, exercising for hours. I don’t go to the gym any more,  because I  would hang with the guys from the gym. I got into too much trouble which would led into #4 (below)
  4. Impulsive or self-damaging behaviors (e.g., excessive spending, unsafe sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating). Continuing from #3  I would need a way to make myself feel better about me. I would use sex as a method to get “high.” However, in my 20’s I realized that it was a circle. I wasn’t doing any thing different. I would feel worse after I snuck out of their place, car or where ever we were. The high emotion never felt the same. I was always chasing it. The wild sex adventures is what makes me feel good. I have a few regrets. I bounced from reckless & risky sex adventures to binge drinking, drugging and over spending on clothes & shoes. Funny about the driving being listed. Because, I was fast when it came to driving. Looking back, surprised I’m still here. My driving record is clean for the most part, due to it’s now my career. I must have a clean driving record, can’t mix any booze & drugs while driving.  I would lose my license. Explaining this to my beloved would crush me,  I “act out”  in private. I don’t include any one from my inner circle. Strangers or people I don’t expect to see daily.
  5. Suicidal behavior or self-injury
  6. Varied or random mood swings – I didn’t wanna believe this one. However when my kids are in emotional turmoil I tend to feed off their emotions. If someone close to me is upset, I can easily get upset also. Sometimes when the #7 kick into high gear, all of it gets pushes into mood swings into self-image issues to impulsive behavior. Just a huge circle for me at times.
  7. Constant feelings of worthlessness or sadness, emptiness – This is constant feeling. Sometimes, I go days without knowing how I feel. I just feel blank. Difficult to explain to normal people. I used to describe it as just black. There is no color. Just like my future, I don’t see myself in 5 years, 10 years or 20 years. It’s just all black.
  8. Problems with anger, including frequent loss of temper or physical fights – Not so much anymore, but when I was younger. There were fights at school, fights with family members and fights in public places. My anger in my childhood was to me extreme. I would have tantrums where I would pull all the drawers out of the dresser. Clothes everywhere. I would act out like a caged animal. I think that if I could have been allowed to express my feelings correctly, burn off energy. I might not have had such extreme anger issues. I was still having physical fights in my 20’s. Although those fights were with my ex-spouse or ex-boyfriends. I had a physical fight with my “fuck buddy” in the bar we hung out in. I was on a date with my current spouse, when my fuck buddy had said to me “You’re a fucking slut, I know you’re gonna fuck him and then come over to fuck me too.” I lost it. I punched him in the face while he sat at the bar. Since the bartender knew both of us, he told me to “take it outside.” I did. I basically fought him in the parking lot. I won. My evening ended shortly afterwards.
  9. Stress-related paranoia or loss of contact with reality

Read more my of my Blog for Mental Health posts.

The bold print above show my symptoms. Some tend to be stronger than others. Some symptoms are not as plain as the others. Looking back to my childhood I can see how & why this all occurred. To me, I believe it’s environmental along with biological. I was not sexually abused, physically abused (only spankings at times) I was very spoiled by all, except my grandmother. What a bitch. I accept that I was neglected as a child. I was placed on the pedestal, taken down and shown off by each parent when it was convenient for them. To me, half the problem is knowing the back history of it all, now to move forward. I don’t see anything major wrong with me. I’ve been able to hold down a job for long periods of time, a marriage, residence. I think the key is finding a person who understands you as an individual. Maybe even opposite of you, to help in keeping the relationship balanced.

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