Riddle Me This
Riddle Me This
What do you get when you mix 10 doctors, 13 prescriptions, and and 5 psych admissions? My life. That’s right. Borderline Personality Disorder has just about driven me over the edge. I had gotten lost in the therapy maze and am now trying to climb my way out.
Things were pretty rough for me after my initial diagnosis in 2010. I was homeless, unemployed, suicidal, and obese as a result of medication. I didn’t understand why so many monkey wrenches had come my way, nor did I connect the dots between BPD and ongoing rage. Anger was the only way I knew how to express myself. My local social services department could only do so much because I wasn’t pregnant or parenting. The unemployment office told me I wasn’t on my last job long enough to file for “benefits”. I spiraled into a series of manic episodes that would eventually land me in a small room with a Disability Rights attorney.
Borderline is tricky. It’s like the love child of Bipolar Disorder and Anxiety Disorder. It’s first cousin to Oppositional Defiant Disorder and Panic Disorder, with a little Eating Disorder mixed in. I didn’t ask for any of this. My mother never apologized for giving it to me. All I can do is try to cope. And that’s exactly how I spend my days.
I’m a pretty creative soul. I’ve been told that my feet never touches the ground and I would have to agree. It’s what I term “constructive troublemaking”. BPD has this hypomanic way of forcing productivity sometimes. There are days that I’m so overwhelmed, I lock myself in my room for hours. It is during this time that I write. What my outpatient therapist calls journaling, I call catharsis. When I can concentrate on more than one thing at a time, I entertain that part of my brain where curiosity lies. I’m able to focus long enough to vent online or in a script for a Youtube video. I cry out all of my pain and give it an identity afterwards. I also rehearse for speaking engagements. My literary mentor talked me into joining Toastmasters. It’s not that I’m uncomfortable speaking before a crowd; I just don’t think doing so really serves a purpose since I stutter so much.
If I get bored doing any of that, I cook. There’s no one here but me, but I still manage to fuse different recipes to see what I come up with. My personal life has made a substantial shift since 2012. I’m no longer homeless and I live on my own. I was eventually awarded Disability and can now afford ongoing therapy. I’ve long since gotten over dropping out of grad school and have been given the green light to start my own business. Suicidal ideations are a thing of the past.
I still struggle with unstable moods, just not as severe as before. My temper is a work in progress, but I’m more aware of mounting outbursts. BPD has opened my eyes. I try to explain the differences between symptoms and character flaws. How I’m really not a bad person or deliberately destructive. I want people to understand that Borderline sufferers need understanding, not tough love. So yeah, things are looking up slowly but surely. Who knows? One of these days I might even kick the meds for good.
By Agyei Ekundayo (AJ)