Bipolar with borderline personality disorder

July 24, 2010 :: 8:38 PM


pony lurves the disco ball! :: bristol, ct :: march 21 2009

This is not the entry I thought I’d write.

This is not the entry I wanted to write.

Then, I read this: “Let it flow, let it go” by Miss Banshee, and it hit me hard. If you were (un)lucky enough to know about That Blog I Used To Have, you know, the one where I was open, brave, reckless, stupid, mean, etc., this one may feel like a bit of let-down. I know it does for me some days. I don’t feel like I’ve been true to myself for a long time. That blog, that domain, wow. It created a shit-ton of havoc in my life and an equally large amount of hurt feelings. That was the price I paid for being me, uncensored, without a net.

But I miss it.

I keep coming around to the fact that I want to remove the self-imposed gag order… that I want to dust off that domain and be ME again. I don’t know… Right now, I can’t. Or I don’t want to. I haven’t decided…

I stumbled upon Miss Banshee when one of her entries popped up on that BlogHer ad thingy I have on my sidebar. She blogs the way I used to, but in a much more family-friendly manner. I’m not that polished, nor disciplined, and I don’t want to be, but that doesn’t have anything to do with anything. Nope. This is related to her openness and honesty about her past. It’s something I used to be, and it started some very good dialogues, both online and off, about bipolar, depression, suicide, and the other fun aspects of being me.

Which is a very roundabout way to get to today’s entry…

The title of this entry is my official diagnosis. Bipolar with a side of borderline personality disorder. I think I’m bipolar I, but I don’t remember for sure. I do know that when I start to “slide”, I tend to live in a mixed state. I used to be severely manic… then I started taking my cocktail, and life calmed down. Literally. I’m not sure what I think about the borderline label. I’m sorry, it’s “emotionally unstable personality disorder” according to the fine people at Wikipedia. Because that’s SO MUCH BETTER.


Spend enough time with me - you’ll know that I’m emotionally unstable, but do I have to wear that obvious a label? Isn’t it bad enough that I’m MENTALLY ILL?!?!


Anyhoo, back to the point of this entry…

I’ve been in a weird place since coming back from my MIL’s funeral. It’s tended to slant toward the depression, that deep, dark, soul-crushing variety that only truly depressed people understand, and that’s pretty frightening. I’m self-aware enough to know that’s where I am mentally, and I’m trying desperately to not cross that imaginary line I have in my head. The one where I go from functional to completely withdrawing from everything. But I have withdrawn. I barely tweet and I’m never on Facebook. I’m just not interested in life online, and that’s (unfortunately) my most obvious symptom. I’m the last person to pick up a phone and call someone on a good day. But I definitely won’t pick up the phone if I’m in The Bad Place and need to hear a friend’s voice, because calling them and saying “I need you” just isn’t me.

So I sit here, trying to keep my head above water, and not let anyone know I’m drowning.

It’s fun.

You should try it.

I’ve had a break from all the doom and gloom several times, though. I live for those manic episodes, when I’m just completely in love with the world and I just want to experience more of it because it’s so wonderful andIcan’tbeleivehowgoodthisicecreamconetastesheylet’sgoshoppingorsomethingbecauseIcan’tsitstill. Yup. I look forward to being out of my mind. That’s what it’s come down to, lately. I wish I could control the mania, both in terms of scope and in terms of when it occurs. If it were as easy as forgetting to take my meds, I would have been off of them for the past two months. Anything to take the edge off of this depression…

I hate feeling like this and I hate being aware of what’s going on with me.

I hate that I can’t just “get over it” and that it’s not “all in my head.”

I hate the fact that I will be on meds for the rest of my life.

I hate that there’s no quick fix and I’m running out of patience…

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